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As had become his Saturday habit, Wes went home to shower and change after work, then headed over to Lillian’s. He was in the mood to venture out tonight. Maybe he’d take her out to eat—there was a Mexican restaurant nearby that his coworkers raved about. Maybe they could go dancing afterward. It would let them cut loose a little, and holding her in his arms for a slow dance might be a natural way to advance their relationship.
He’d been in Albany three weeks, and so far Lillian’s idea of showing him around the city was driving the streets and pointing out landmarks. He enjoyed the broader perspective of the community, but he also wanted to dive in and see what this town was all about.
When he arrived at Lillian’s apartment, she answered the door on the third knock. The curls alongside her face werefrizzed, and a pink stain flushed her cheeks. “Come in, come in. I’ve gotta stir the roux or it’ll be ruined. Make yourself at home.”
Looked like they were staying in again. The cool air-conditioning was a welcome relief from the late-August heat. “Need some help?”
“No, I think it’s going to be okay,” she called from the kitchen. “I’ve never made Cajun food, so I hope it turns out. Also, I hope you like chicken and sausage gumbo because it’s kind of a pain to make. I’ve been on my feet for two hours and dirtied every pot and pan in the place.”
“I love gumbo and it smells great.” He stepped around newspapers that had fallen to the floor and a sweater that hadn’t quite hit the coatrack and headed to the kitchen to keep her company. “I can set the table if you want.”
“Sure.” Lillian whisked the contents of a skillet, and the steam rose like a dissipating spring fog. “The plates are up there, and you know where the silverware is. Oh, wait, everything’s actually in the dishwasher. I think they’re clean though.”
He retrieved the settings from the dishwasher and cleared a space on the table for them to eat. “Looks like you’re opening a yarn factory over here.”
She chuckled. “Oh, just shove all that aside. I’m teaching myself to knit. I got it in my head that I need to make a baby blanket, and all the yarns were so pretty I couldn’t decide. I thought I could teach myself, but now I’m not so sure. My friend from church—Honor, you met her—she offered to help me. She makes the prettiest sweaters and scarves.”
“Can’t she just make you a baby blanket?”
She spared him aduhlook. “Well, of course she could, but then it wouldn’t be as special.”
“Oh, right.”
“Plus, it’ll give me something to do in the evenings. I need something to keep my hands busy—I can’t seem to stop eating.”
She was so thin—surely she wasn’t worried she’d gain too much weight with the pregnancy. “Well, you’re supposed to be eating for two, right?”
“Sure, but I don’t want to have too much to lose afterward.” She poured the brown sauce from the skillet into a big pot. “I hope this turns out okay. I don’t think I burnt it.”
“I’m sure it’ll be terrific. You’re a great cook.” After he finished setting the table he wandered into the kitchen.
She added a few ingredients to the pot, then put a lid on. “There. Now it just needs to simmer awhile. Did I tell you what little Corbin said at work yesterday? He said his mama had to stay home from work because she had a high temper. Isn’t that cute? I couldn’t even bring myself to correct him.”
While the stew simmered Lillian regaled him with stories of the kiddos she’d already bonded with. He knew she was scared about the future, but there was no doubt she would make a wonderful mom.
Last week she’d finally gotten up the nerve to tell the father about the baby. Jordan had apparently been upset she was keeping it and unwilling to commit to any kind of parenting role. Lillian seemed to accept the news with resignation.
Wes didn’t understand how a man could turn his back on his child. On his responsibility. It was unthinkable.
But he was more than willing to fill the gap. The questionwas, what kind of father would he make? He hadn’t exactly had the best example. His dad met his physical needs, but that was about it. Wes wasn’t even sure what a good father looked like. But then he’d managed to rise above his upbringing in other ways. Surely he could do the same for Lillian and the baby.
“How’ve you been feeling today?” The nausea seemed to have subsided as she approached the three-month mark.
“Pretty good.” She glanced at the messy kitchen, giving him a wry look. “Obviously I thought I was up for a challenge.”
“I’ll handle cleanup. It’s the least I can do. How about after that we go do something fun? I was thinking it might be nice to check out some of Albany’s hot spots. Is there a place around here with a dance floor and a live band on Saturday nights?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, trust me, you don’t want that—I’m a terrible dancer. The last time I danced was at my prom, and I’m pretty sure I left bruises on the poor guy’s toes.”
“Okay, well, let’s see. How about pool? Or darts?”
She chuckled. “You’d really be risking life and limb then. I’m not coordinatedat all, Wes. I always end up spraining something or hurting someone else. I’m sure Landon must’ve told you. He was forever teasing me about it.”
He didn’t remember his friend mentioning that. “All right, well, what sounds good to you?”
“Honestly? I’d just love an evening at home with you. There’s a new movie on Netflix that looks good—and it’s not a horror flick. It’s got Denzel Washington in it. I know you like him.”
Wes pushed back the disappointment and tried not to think about the way Avery had always been up for something new: card games, salsa, pool lessons. She threw herself into whatever it was and had fun with it.
