Introducing Daddy

More than anything he wanted to pull the car over, cup her perfect, heart-shaped face in his hands and kiss her silly. He was completely certain if he tried to, she’d slap his face.

He wasn’t about to give up, though. They belonged together. Damn it, he loved her, and he knew she still loved him. He’d made a serious miscalculation about how she’d felt about going overseas, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t go on like before. He was back now. For a little while. He knew he could convince her to join him. After all, they’d been together for years. They were soul mates. He’d never been as close to anyone as he had been to Evie Beauchamp. He knew she felt the same way.

He remembered the day he met her at the Alexanders’ house. He’d been at Evansville High School for less than a month, and Louis Alexander had already become a good friend. Still, Adam always hated going to someone’s home for the first time—especially the home of someone like Louis Alexander. His father was a doctor and his mother was principal of the elementary school. They were the aristocracy of the small town, and Adam’s family was very far removed from those circles.

When they’d walked in through the kitchen, the first thing Adam had seen was the enormous pot of gumbo bubbling on the stove. His spirits had risen considerably. Right next to the stove, a steaming bowl of white fluffy rice sat on an iron trivet. Loaves of crusty French bread were set out along with slabs of real butter, and there were napkins stacked next to a mountain of bowls and plates. The napkins were cloth—blue-and-white checkered. He remembered vividly everything he saw that day.

When the two of them walked through to the family room, Adam saw at least fifteen people sprawled on comfortable-looking furniture, spilling onto the floor and piled together on beat-up beanbag chairs. Everyone was watching The Wizard of Oz on Dr. Alexander’s new big-screen TV. Adam was introduced around, and though he was able to remember a few of the names—there were five other Alexander children—there were so many neighborhood kids, he couldn’t possibly remember who was who. Evie stood out, though.

She was nearly fourteen then, but could have passed for twelve. Or ten. She sat folded up on the divan like a grasshopper, wedged between Mary Margaret and little Hughie Alexander. Her hair was an untamed, ebony corkscrew mane, and she had enormous, jade green eyes. She was stick thin, and Adam’s first impression was a black-haired Little Orphan Annie.

Louis stood next to Adam; dutifully intoning names.

“…and Heather, and this is my brother Hughie, and this is Evie Beauchamp—she lives next door—and my sister Mary Margaret—”

“Hey,” some fat kid chortled from one of the beanbags. “Adam and Evie. Ha ha ha. Somebody get Evie an apple. Now you’ll finally have a boyfriend. Adam and Ee-vie sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I—”

The kid might have continued ragging her for a while before the others shushed him, but that didn’t happen. Without a second’s hesitation, Evie launched herself from the couch and flew through the air, bony arms and legs outstretched like a spider monkey flinging itself from tree to tree. She hit the boy squarely in the gut—a flailing whirlwind of skinny limbs—and had to be pulled away. Adam liked her immediately. He admired a fighter.

Later, after the movie, and replete with several bowls of Mrs. Alexander’s spicy seafood gumbo, Adam rose and thanked his hosts. He liked them and he could tell that they liked him, too. They eventually became his surrogate parents, and he lived with them his senior year of high school. But that first night Evie stood up to leave at the same time he did. He knew she’d been watching him during the evening, and had timed her exit to coincide with his. He had smiled inwardly, wondering what had piqued her interest.

He wasn’t amused; he was charmed.

“Well,” she said, standing and stretching her whippet-thin arms, “I’ve got to go feed Snoopy.”

“You’re coming back, aren’t you, dear?” Mrs. Alexander asked. Adam heard the protectiveness in the older woman’s voice and wondered at it.

“Sure,” Evie said. “I gotta go get my stuff.”

“Is Snoopy your dog?” Adam asked.

Evie met his gaze, and he realized her eyes looked more emerald close up. “No, Snoopy’s my pony. I wish I had a dog, though. That’s what I really wanted.”

“Boy was she surprised Christmas Day,” Hughie said. “She named him Snoopy, anyway, ‘cause she’d already picked the name.”

“Wow,” Adam said. “A pony! Your folks must be really generous to give you a pony when you asked for a dog.”

“Not really,” she said evenly. “They’d do just about anything to keep me outside.”

Adam had started to laugh, but noticed just in time that an awkward silence had fallen in the room. Then he noticed the meaningful glances passing among some of the older people.

“Anyway,” she said. “My folks are dead. I live with my Aunt Nila and Uncle Richard. It’s the next house, but you can’t really see it through the trees.”

He noticed that Evie wasn’t as young as he’d first thought; she was just small. Her face was serious, and she had fair skin and a wide, intelligent forehead. Her lips were full and curved up naturally—a perfect Cupid’s bow mouth, his mother would say. He’d never seen hair so thick and shiny. Thick, sooty lashes fringed her eyes, and her eyebrows arched high and fine on her unfreckled skin.

“Well, I think you’re lucky, anyway,” he said. “I’ve never had a pet at all.”

She blinked. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

“You want to come see Snoopy?” she asked.

“I can’t today, but the next time I come I’d like to.” She nodded, but he could see that she didn’t believe him. He also saw that she accepted it without protest. She was obviously someone who’d grown accustomed to disappointment. At that moment it became vitally important to him not to let her down. He promised he’d go see her pony the very next time he was there. And he’d been true to his word. That time.

Adam sighed. That was ages ago—going on fourteen years. They were so different now. Although Evie looked much the same. She was still girlishly small with enormous green eyes that changed color depending on what she wore. Or her mood. And that hair. She’d tamed her mad curls, and they usually cascaded over her shoulders like a blue-black waterfall, but wet weather gave her fits with it.

He wanted to stare at her, to devour her with his eyes…and hands. After all, he’d been starved for her for months. But the traffic was crawling and the roads were glassy with water. At least she was only a couple of feet away. So close, so close. He wanted to touch her hair and her face, and take her hand in his, but tension rolled off her like high notes on a violin. Something’s really wrong, he thought. Maybe she’s found somebody else…His mind slammed shut on the thought. She wouldn’t. Not Evie. Not while they were still married.

She took a breath. “So, how long are you supposed to be in town?”

Adam swallowed. This was exactly the question he’d wanted to avoid. “I’m not sure.”

She looked at him over her shoulder, and he saw the curve of her lip. She didn’t even have to say it out loud. He imagined she was thinking, Just as I thought.

“How’s the assignment going?” she asked.

Don’t lie, just be smart. “Better than I thought. The refinery isn’t taking nearly as long as we thought to rework. They’ll be at forty percent soon. We hope to be at eighty-five percent in less than six months.”

“So everything’s working out for you. Just like you hoped.”

“No, Evie. Not like I hoped. I want you with me.” He took his right hand off the steering wheel. He meant to reach for hers, but she shrank against the door and hugged herself even tighter than before. God, she won’t even let me touch her hand. Long moments stretched out, measured by the slap of the windshield wipers and the hiss of tires on wet asphalt.

He wanted to get her talking. If only he could capture her interest somehow. God, he’d never felt so awkward—so inept. Surely there was something…“We go whale watching sometimes. You’d like that.”

“Mmm. Whale watching. Sounds fun,” she murmured, but Adam could tell she wasn’t really paying attention. She’d turned away to trace the falling pattern of rivulets on the window with her finger. When she retreated this way she always struck him as somehow childlike. Not just because she was so little, but long ago he had realized that something inside her had just given up and remained somehow suspended.

He saw it at times like this—the way she would just tune him out and go into herself. Maybe it was losing her parents so young, or being raised by that cold-fish aunt and the demented uncle. Seeing her this way—so out of reach—made him want to gather her to him all the more. To hold her. To lose himself inside her.

“So, tell me,” she said presently. “Where are you off to after San Asfallia?”

Adam didn’t answer. For years he’d stressed to her that hardship assignments were a shortcut to promotion. But it was more than that. He’d taken difficult assignments because he liked—no, he needed the challenge. Ever since he was young, his accomplishments—the evidence of his success—had distanced him from the memory of the grinding poverty he’d grown up in.

At first Evie had understood his need to be challenged, to fight the elements in the oil field and the boardroom. She’d known how the gnawing sense of failure that had always seemed to be waiting to devour him could only have been defeated by achievement. That had been the essence of his personality. He’d known that, and Evie’d known that. She’d taken pride in his drive and ambition. At first. Later on it had forced a wedge between them.

It seemed that as soon as they were married, Evie wanted to settle down—right away—and start having children, even though she knew if they had small children, company policy would exclude Adam from the assignments he wanted. This had been the source of Evie’s unhappiness.

God, the arguments they’d had over kids. And after only a couple of years—four or five at the mostshe’d just become so stubborn and had refused to see, wouldn’t be reasonable or even try to understand at all.

“Well are you going to answer me?” She swung around, and Adam recognized the challenge in her posture. She might as well have said it. Was it worth the breakup of our marriage? Or does this mean you’ve decided to come home to stay? “Where to next? Afghanistan? Ghana?”

God, it was like she was clairvoyant. How many times had they laughed about reading each other’s thoughts? But things just weren’t that simple.

“I’m not sure, this assignment’s not over yet, and I won’t know what comes next until we’re done. Like I said, we’re ahead of schedule—months, but it’ll be at least another—”

“I see,” she said, and turned away again.

“Evie…”

“What? You see? Even now, no matter what you say, work comes first, doesn’t it?”

“Why don’t you come with me? Just try it, darling. Argentina’s not beautiful, but we can travel to other places. I need you with…”

“I want a divorce, Adam,” she said. “As soon as possible. Tomorrow. And there’s something else you ought to know.”

She turned to face him, and when Adam saw her eyes, he almost pulled the car over. The way she looked was almost scary—like a cornered animalterrified but ready, almost eager to get on with the fight.

“I have a baby, Adam.”

Chapter Three

Adam hit the brakes, and the car fishtailed dangerously. As they slid into the outside lane, a rain-dappled half-ton pickup drifted into Evie’s peripheral vision, and she cringed in anticipation. Just in time the driver swerved and avoided them, but his horn blared—almost in Evie’s ear it seemed—and she clutched at the dashboard to brace herself. “What are you doing? Have you lost your mind?”

Adam didn’t answer, but his knuckles stood out white against his dark skin as he deftly brought the car back under control and maneuvered across the lanes. Nearly expressionless he coasted into the next parking lot they came to without ever saying a word. Evie knew he was dangerously angry.

When the car came to a stop he turned to face her. “What did you say to me?”

“I said, ‘Have you lost your mind?”’

“Don’t be cute, Evie. What the hell is going on?”

She swallowed and looked around. They were just blocks from the shop, and she knew it would only take a few minutes to walk home. At this point she didn’t give a damn if she had to walk in the rain. “I don’t want to stop here.” She popped her seat belt and reached for the door handle. “If you’re not going to—”

She wasn’t even aware that he’d moved until his hand clamped down around her wrist. His expression never changed. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on. What about a baby? Whose baby?”

Evie didn’t bother to struggle, instead she faced him square on. “Her name is Juliette, and I’m adopting her. Her mother is—was—my roommate. Don’t worry, Adam, she’s not your responsibility. Nothing is going to stand in the way of your career.”

“Wait a minute. Did you say her mother was…”?

“Yes.” Evie made a point of looking down at her wrist, not only because she wanted him to let go, she also knew she couldn’t look him in the face—not now, not with what she had to say next. “Her name was Marlene Hitchcock,” she said softly. “Marlene’s dead.”

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