Page 70 of More Than a Helping Hand

Tonight, when I’m alone in bed, I’ll cry my heart out. Right now, I am going to hold it together.

“Dad?”

He walks out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand. “Want a cup? This is my tenth today.”

“I thought you said not to worry.” I don’t like seeing my dad upset.

“I’m worrying for you.”

“How did you know who he was? Y’all never met him.” When I was dating Kyle, my parents were far away in Texas, and deep down, I knew they wouldn’t like him. So it never worked out for them to meet when my parents came to visit.

“Bailey looks like you, but she has his eyes.” Dad pours me a cup and hands it over. “And I wasn’t violent or rude.”

“You never are, Dad. I can’t imagine you being awful to anyone.”

He focuses on me, and his normally soft brown eyes look hard. “Only because no one has pushed the right buttons, but that boy is not going to hurt you again, and he’s definitely not taking Bailey. I won’t let that happen.”

“Did he ask about her? Probably not. I doubt he knows if I had a boy or a girl.”

“He didn’t.” Dad looks out into the hall. “Isn’t Anderson coming in?”

“We broke up.”

“That’s too bad. I was planning on Parker and Anderson being backup in case I couldn’t take Kyle alone.” He winks, letting me know he’s joking. “But it is too bad. You seemed happy.”

“I can’t talk about that right now, Dad. Please.”

He nods. “I hear you, but your mom might not be so easy to convince.”

“Just let me get through this. Then I’ll deal with all the questions.” I glance out the window as Anderson drives away. Mom wipes her eyes, then trudges back toward the house.

When she opens the door, she calls out, “Someone just pulled up in front.”

I set my mug down and march out the front door. “I’ll holler if I need y’all.”

“We’ll be by the door.” Dad has an edge to his voice.

Standing on the porch, I cross my arms.

Kyle strolls up, smiling. “It’s been a long time.”

“What do you want?” I’m in no mood for chitchat.

“I guess we’ll skip the small talk. I came because I need your assurance.”

“About?”

“I’m engaged, and my fiancée just found out that she can’t have children.”

I hold my breath, refusing to unleash my fury until it’s necessary.

“She’s really torn up about it. I’m not. After our scare in college?—”

“It wasn’t a scare. I have a nine-year-old. That you fathered.”

“True, but I never wanted children. I still don’t. That’s why I got snipped ages ago. But anyway, if my fiancée finds out I have a…” He looks at me, as if expecting me to fill in the blank with son or daughter.

“A child. That’s all you need to know.”

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