Page 30 of Alec’s Dream

As much as he enjoyed seeing Macy holding Joss, it was time to get Macy comfortable and that meant setting Jocelyn down.

He tossed the bags next to the forgotten popcorn, made his way to the loveseat, and rearranged some pillows. Once he was done he moved back to Macy and pulled his daughter free, settling her on his chest.

“You know, it normally takes me at least an hour to get her down.”

“Really? She’s always out quick for me.”

He believed that. He’d used to think that Joss was attached to Macy because she was a female and mother, albeit not hers—but now he knew better.

Joss was attached to Macy because Macy was Macy—gentle, soothing, and easy to be around.

Some of the same reasons he was getting attached. So he offered more honesty.

“When Jocelyn first came to live with me.” Alec stopped and shook his head remembering that first night. “I almost called the social worker and told her I couldn’t do it, that she needed to come and pick Jocelyn back up. Joss screamed herself to sleep the first night. Nothing I did would calm her down. The second day and night were the same. All she did was cry. It was the hardest goddamn thing I’d ever been through. My child, who I didn’t know, was upset and I didn’t know what to do to make it better. I didn’t think I had it in me. I was almost ready to make the call, Joss was lying next to me in bed, her breaths coming out in stuttered gasps, then her tear-filled eyes locked onto mine and it was like she and I were having a silent conversation. I swear to you I could feel my girl's pain, her fear, and I knew I would do anything to take it away.”

For long moments Macy didn’t say anything and Alec wondered if he’d shared too much. If admitting he almost allowed his own flesh and blood to be placed into foster care made her look at him differently. God knows he’d beaten himself up about it every day since.

What kind of father did that make him?

What kind of man?

Alec’s hand on Jocelyn’s back stilled as he remembered those shameful days.

“I think every new parent has moments of self-doubt, Alec. Moments of helplessness, fear…hell, that’s not even a new parent thing. That’s just basic parenting.” Macy stopped and took in a breath. “May I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“When you enrolled Joss, you didn’t give any information on her mother. I know you’re her sole guardian and she’s not…involved. But…um…”

“Jaime, Jocelyn’s mother died in a car accident when Jocelyn was almost three months old.”

Macy’s face paled and she fidgeted from foot to foot. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry. For both of you.”

Alec’s jaw clenched and he bit back the truth; there was nothing for Macy to be sorry for—at least not on his part. Jocelyn, yes, she’d lost her mother, but Alec didn’t feel like he’d lost a damn thing. And that made him a son-of-a-bitch and he knew it.

Deciding saying nothing was best, Alec turned back to the loveseat, settled Jocelyn’s little body near the back cushion, and arranged some of Macy’s throw pillows so his daughter wouldn’t roll off the couch.

When he straightened, Macy was there handing him the blanket he’d seen strewn on the sofa, the one she must’ve been using while eating her damn popcorn and watching TV. Belatedly, the temperature in the house registered.

“You keep it cool in here.”

It wasn’t near freezing outside, not yet, but there was a chill in the air. Cold enough most people, including him, had already cranked their thermostats up.

“Uh, yeah. When the kids aren’t here I lower the heat. It saves on heating oil.”

Macy’s cheeks had pinkened just a touch and he wondered if she was simply conservative with money or if she was hurting.

Then he remembered what she’d been eating for dinner and rage bubbled in his gut.

Fucking Doug Spencer.

No spousal support.

No child support.

What a dickless asshole.

11