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She returned the tiny baby garment to its original place. “I hate to be insensitive, but are you sure the baby is yours?”
“Yes. Given the circumstances and everything Michelle told me, I was pretty sure without a test, but the results confirmed that I’m the father.”
“Michelle. She’s the mother, the one who says she wants nothing to do with her baby. Do you believe her? What will happen if she changes her mind?”
“I don’t know her well enough to gauge her future actions, but she was firm in her immediate plan. She’d had counseling while she was pregnant. The legal stuff was already in motion, whether I said yes, or the baby went to adoptive parents. She called me to the hospital only to give me an opportunity to take custody, no other underlying reason. She didn’t pressure me to take the baby—I could have walked away and never looked back. As for what’ll happen if she comes back one day and wants to be a part of Sachi’s life, I’ll figure that out if and when that happens.”
“Sachi?”
A smile crested on his face as he nodded. A proud-father smile. “It’s a Japanese name. Michelle is half Japanese, so I thought it would be good to give the baby a tie to that part of her heritage. It means ‘blissful child.’ So far, it’s true.”
“It’s a beautiful name.”
“Thanks. Do you want to meet her?”
“No.” The answer came out before she had a chance to think.
Sam’s smile dissolved into a straight line. “No, as in, not until we’re done talking, or, no, as in, not ever?”
“No, as in, not today. And…I’m not sure about the ever part.”
“Why? I don’t get it. You’re such an amazing, dedicated mom.”
“Tomychild, yes. Lennox is the child I wanted desperately. She’s also the only child I ever wanted.”
“I’m not asking you to jump in and be an instant mom to Sachi.”
“What about eventually, at some point down the road? Is it in your mind that I might fill the mom role in some capacity?” She raised her hand before he could answer. Hearing any version of confirmation would only make the next part harder. “I’m forty-two. I’m too old to go back to the beginning of the cycle.”
“That’s bullshit. You’re not too old for anything. Besides, you said your parents were in their mid-forties when they had you.”
“They were. And they’re both gone. Because they started so late, they didn’t get to see Lennox sing in the Christmas choir. They aren’t around to watch her grow up. They were barely able to watch me.”
“It won’t be that way for you. You told me your parents were unhealthy, used-up people. You’re the opposite.”
“You’re right, I am. I’m in the prime of my life. I’m healthy and active. My daughter is on the cusp of independence. I want the next chapter of my life to be filled with fun and freedom, not feeding schedules and babyproofing and being so tired that by the time the baby sleeps, that’s all I want to do too.”
“What are you saying?”
Crying wasn’t her thing, thank God. The pressure of impending tears was there though, and that was bad enough. “I’m happy for you, because I know how much joy your daughter is going to bring to your life. But this,” she motioned to the baby gear that filled every view of the room, “isn’t what I want for mine.”
“You keep surprising me.” No trace of smile or awe, like the other times he’d said those words. “I never took you for a hypocrite.”
“Excuse me?”
“It was okay for me to accept all the rules and limitations of dating a single mother, but you won’t even try making a go of things with a single dad.”
The tightness in her heart released, replaced by the thump of indignation. “You knew what you were getting into from the beginning. I was a single mother when we met. I was a single mother when you asked me out. I tried to warn you off, Sam. Repeatedly.”
“Well, I’m not warning you off. I’m crazy about you, Leigh. I want you in. All in. And not because I need help. I can get that from my family. I want to do this with you. I want to do everything with you.” It sounded like commitment talk. More than what they already shared.
One way or the other, her next words would change their relationship forever.
“I understand if you need time to think.” He’d given her a reprieve.
Taking it would only be a stay of execution. “Time to think won’t change the plan I’ve made.”
“A plan isn’t written in stone. Hell, even if it was, stone can be broken.”
