Good God. A few times a week? If she insisted on being part of every visit—and she already had—she was about to spend the better part of three months with her ex-husband.
Trisha began to pretend to feed her bear. Max glanced back at Kate, then rose from his little plastic chair and walked over to her.
“I’m not sure what the protocol is here, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”
Though it killed her, she politely said, “You’re fine. We don’t have to be at the hospital until seven.”
“I know, but it’s just that we had a nice visit and I don’t want to spoil it by boring her.”
Familiar fear spiraled through her. “You’re ditching her?”
“Not ditching. Keeping her from disliking me because I bore her.”
She fought the instinctive anger that rose in her—remnants of the insult of always being left alone while he drank with his friends—and forced herself to be logical, not emotional. Their visit had been good, albeit short. Nice, short visits would get Trisha accustomed to him. And get him accustomed to Trisha without pushing either one of them.
“Okay.” Eager to get away from him, she walked over to the table and tapped on it to get Trisha’s attention. “Your dad is leaving now.” She picked up the teapot. “Say goodbye.”
Trisha gave him her toothless grin. “Bye.”
As goodbyes went, that left a lot to be desired. Seeing the confused look on Max’s face, Kate sucked in a breath and did what she had to do. “Give your dad a hug.”
Trisha got up from her chair and went to her father. She wrapped her arms around his legs, squeezed quickly and pulled back. “Bye.”
He closed his eyes, savoring the hug, then stooped down beside her and took her into his arms. Guilt tightened Kate’s stomach, but realism knocked it out of position. He might be a nice guy now—might—she suspected all this good behavior could be an act—but he’d ruined their marriage with his drinking. He’d forced her away. And she’d take Trisha away from him again in a heartbeat if he started drinking.
“Bye.” He rose and left. Quickly and quietly.
Relieved that he was gone, Kate carried the dishes out to the kitchen where her mom was wiping down a countertop. Trisha skipped in after her.
Sliding onto a chair by the table she said, “I liked him.”
Kate and her mom exchanged a glance, and Bev said, “Yeah. He’s a peach.”
Trisha giggled. “He’s not a peach. Peaches are fruit.” She grabbed an apple from the bowl on the table and skipped out of the room.
Kate’s mom rounded on her. “So?”
“So, what?”
“So do you think you appeased him? Is he going to do something like file for custody?”
Kate slumped against the sink. “With Trisha around, we didn’t really have time to talk about anything.”
“Oh, Katie! That was the whole point of the visit. Making him happy enough that he didn’t go to court.” She sighed and turned back to the sink. “I think you’re going to have to go talk to him.”
Even the thought made her stomach jump. She didn’t want to see him. But if she didn’t pin him down, he could easily pick up a phone, an entire staff of lawyers would be drafting motions and she could potentially lose control. At least this way, she called the shots. She would say when Trisha saw him. And she also would stay with them while he visited.
Slim as it was, she had an upper hand and she had to keep it.
CHAPTER THREE
MAX LEFT THE HOUSE with tears in his eyes. His first hug from his daughter had been quick, almost an afterthought. One of the biggest moments of his life had been treated as an afterthought.
He sucked in a breath, forcing himself to face some realities. Though it was momentous for him, it might have actually been scary for a little girl to hug a man who was a virtual stranger. So he couldn’t be angry that Kate had seemed flip about asking Trisha to hug him. She might have done it for Trisha’s sake. He had to take it in stride.
But so many things whirled around in his head. Anger with himself for ruining his marriage, his entire life for so many years. The desire to be angry with Kate. The argument that he couldn’t be angry with Kate. The sure knowledge that he had to take responsibility. His head was so full of thoughts and his heart so full of emotion that he wasn’t even sure if he was right or wrong.
Walking to the Range Rover, he grabbed his cell phone and hit speed dial.
His personal secretary answered. “Hey, boss.”
“I’m not coming back this afternoon.”
Silence. Annette was the only person who knew where he’d been—knew about Trisha.
“Is everything okay?”
“Peachy.”
“It doesn’t sound peachy.”
Forty-five, with four kids of varying ages, Annette was wise beyond her years. She was also someone he trusted.
“I need to think some of this through.”
“The talk with your wife didn’t go so well?”
Talk? They’d barely spoken, and when they had, an argument had always huddled just below the surface. He drew in a breath. “We didn’t shout.”
“Well, that’s a start.”
He laughed.
“Look, it’s Friday afternoon anyway. You haven’t had a day off in probably a decade. I’ll hold down the fort.”
He opened the door of the Range Rover. “Why don’t you go home, too?”
“Hey, you don’t have to ask me twice.”
With that she clicked off and Max drove home. He walked into his silent foyer and stopped as memories flooded him. When he and Kate were first married, she would greet him at the door. Sometimes naked. He shook his head. They had been so in love it was hard to fathom that they could barely hold a conversation now.
Walking toward the kitchen, he was grateful that his housekeeper was gone for the day. With his mom in Houston visiting friends, he didn’t have to worry about interruptions or having to make small talk—or having to tell her she had a granddaughter she didn’t know about.
He winced. That conversation was not going to be pretty. His mom would either explode with anger or melt into a puddle of emotion. And he’d have to remind her that Kate had had good reason to leave. Just as if it were eight years ago, he was back to facing the consequences of his drinking.
He walked to the master bedroom. It was the one room he had changed after he’d sobered up. He couldn’t
