“You know I will. I’ll show you how to take care of her. I’ll show you everything.”
“I don’t think I can. I just can’t do it.”
She knew Delia was confused and overwhelmed at the enormous responsibility, not to mention that her hormones were out of whack.
“They’ll bring the baby in a little while for you to nurse. Once you hold her, you’ll feel completely different.”
“Nurse?” Delia pushed up in the bed, a look of terror on her face. “No, no. I can’t do that. This baby was an accident and I don’t plan on nursing it.”
Macy stroked Delia’s arm. “A lot of mothers choose to use formula.”
Delia squirmed again. “She won’t be like me, will she, Macy? Impulsive, foolish and a little crazy?”
“You only think of yourself that way. I see someone who could be an unbelievable young woman if you’d just let it happen.”
Delia sighed. “Go away, Macy. I have to decide what to do.”
“You don’t have a lot of options.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.”
Macy didn’t know what to make of that so she put it down to hormones. Delia would feel differently once she held her baby.
“I’ll go check on the baby. Get some rest. You’ve had a rough night.”
“Macy?”
She turned back.
“I’d like to name her Zoë.”
Macy felt a moment of relief. Delia was showing an interest. That was very good. “Would you like the father’s name on the birth certificate?” She might be pressing her luck, but she tried anyway.
Delia shook her head. “You just don’t give up, do you? Just put Zoë Jane Randall on the birth certificate.”
Macy was taken aback. Jane was her middle name, named after Irene’s mother. “I like it.”
“Thought you would. It’s for Grandma.”
“Grandma Jane would be proud.”
“Yeah. She was the only one who ever took an interest in me.”
That was very true. Delia had defied discipline as a kid, but Grandma Jane had a way with her. She passed away when Delia was twelve and after that Delia’s problems had escalated out of control.
“Is there anyone you’d like me to call?”
“Like who?”
“I haven’t seen you in a year, so you had to be living with someone, someone who might be worried about you.”
Delia scooted down in the bed and pulled a pillow close. “You’re the only one who worries about me. That’s because you don’t know any better and you never seem to learn.”
Delia drifted off to sleep and Macy walked out with a sigh.
BEAU CHECKED ON Macy’s animals and fed them—a ritual he was quite used to. When Macy worked and he was at home, the trio stayed at his place. He often let them out and took them for walks. Freckles didn’t believe in exercise, but the dogs jogged with him sometimes.
They followed him to the door, so he let them come to his house, knowing they wanted some company. They curled up on his bed while he showered and shaved. Putting on clean jeans, he watched them.
Macy had taught them all sorts of tricks. One was making up the bed. He’d just thrown the sheet and comforter back last night, intending to crawl into bed after the game. But he’d never made it.
Lucky caught the corner of the sheet with his teeth and pulled it across the bed, slipping off the side of the bed and hanging by his teeth until the sheet pulled tight. Lefty did the same with the comforter. Then both dogs jumped onto the bed and sniffed and pulled until they thought the job was done. Freckles hopped into the center, curled into a ball and promptly fell asleep.
Lucky and Lefty barked at her and Beau smiled at their antics. “Thanks, guys,” he said. “Time to go home.” They followed him to Macy’s. He hated to leave them, but Macy would be home soon. Or at least he hoped she would.
He drove to his mom and dad’s. He had to tell them about the move, which he wasn’t all that sure about anymore. The aroma of something good cooking greeted him as he entered his mom’s big kitchen, her haven. She loved to cook. Katie, his five-year-old niece and Jake’s daughter, sat on a bar stool pulled up to the island staring at some cookies that obviously had just been taken out of the oven. Bandy, a small black-and-white dog and one of Macy’s rescues, looked up at Katie, waiting for a morsel of food.
“Uncle Beau.” Katie jumped off the stool and ran into his arms.
He swung her around and kissed her cheek.
Katie pointed to the cookies. “Granny and me made peanut butter cookies. Want one?”
“You bet.”
Katie slipped to the floor and he smiled at his mother. Her brown hair was turning grayer every day, but she still looked the same to him, petite with a few extra pounds and a heart of gold. She stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek.
“Hi, dear. How was your trip?”
“Pretty good.”
Katie came toward him walking very carefully with a cookie held in both hands. Bandy hopped up and down behind her. Althea grabbed a napkin and Katie deposited the treat gently on the table. Beau sat down and took a bite, Katie’s big brown eyes watching him.
“Is it good?” she wanted to know.
“The best ever.”
“It’s got lots of love in it. Granny and me always put it in.”
He kissed her forehead. “And I taste it.”
Andrew walked in, his glasses perched on his nose. “Beau, son, I didn’t know you were home.”
Beau stood and hugged him. Accepting his stepfather, Andrew Wellman, into his life after living with Joe McCain hadn’t been hard at all.
Beau was afraid of his father and his temper, but he’d never been afraid of Andrew. Everything he’d learned about kindness and caring, everything that wasn’t inherited, he learned from Andrew. He taught him about life and how to be a man with a sensitive heart and a strong faith. Church had been the cornerstone of his new life and he needed that just as his mother had. Without her eldest son, she was lost, and so was Beau.
Now they all had a second chance and he’d never seen his mother happier. She thrived on being a grandmother.
Andrew turned to Katie. “I’ve got the movie all set to go. Ready?”
“Yay.”
