Page 33 of One More Heartbeat
“Her name…my granddaughter’s name is Peony?” Mom smiles, her face further softening. Any softer, and it would drip onto the kitchen floor.
Dad takes Mom’s hand. “Jo, maybe you shouldn’t think of her as your granddaughter. Not yet. Not until Garrett sees the paternity results.”
Mom’s shoulders sag. She then pushes them back, her expression taking on a determined tilt. “How long will that take?”
“I ordered the test online yesterday. So about two weeks.”
She huffs out a sigh, tearing her hand from Dad’s. “Two weeks?” She snatches a cookie from the plate. “Please tell me I don’t have to wait two weeks to meet my granddaughter.” She waves the cookie in my face, as if tempting me with a treat will get me to change my mind.
“Jo,” Dad drawls, his tone a sympathetic warning. He picks up his mug, peers inside, and shakes his head at it—though I suspect his reaction has nothing to do with the contents and more to do with Mom’s response to my news.
She snaps the cookie in half and waves his warning aside. Flying crumbs hit Dad in the chest. “Oh, hush. I’m not waiting that long to meet her.”
Dad grunts and straightens his spine, his tell that he’s about to hunker down for a storm with Mom. “And what if she isn’t your granddaughter?” His tone is no longer sympathetic. It’s commander stern. “Are you sure you’re willing to risk that disappointment after getting your hopes up? She could be trying to scam Garrett.”
Mom lifts her chin, unfazed by his tone. “Yes. I am. And if Kenda was positive Peony is Garrett’s daughter, so am I. You’re worried thenanny is scamming Garret. I’m worried about that little girl who has no mother.”
I stare at my parents. I knew they wouldn’t lecture me about not practicing safe sex and getting my ex-girlfriend knocked up. But I also hadn’t expected Mom to accept Peony as her granddaughter so easily—not without proof.
Really? You hadn’t expected the woman who has been dying to have a grandchild for years to get excited at the possibility now?
Mom might be done with the topic, but Dad isn’t. I can see it in his expression. “How do we know the nanny isn’t actually the girl’s mother? Or the little girl isn’t someone else’s child who was abducted for this farce?” He leans forward on his chair, his concerned eyes on Mom. “Your son’s a famous author.”
“I’m not that famous.” Just famous enough to end up with a stalker one time. “And Kellan checked the database to make sure there are no missing children fitting Peony’s description.”
“Okay, she wasn’t kidnapped from another family, but that doesn’t mean she’s Kenda’s child.”
“She looks nothing like the nanny. She does look like Kenda though.” I take a sip of my coffee, wishing it were something stronger.
“Why are Peony and her nanny at the hotel?” Mom asks.
Dad makes a sound that’s somewhere between a grunt and a huff. The sound of surrender. He knows he’s lost this battle. Until the paternity results are in and they prove otherwise, Mom’s stance won’t be swayed.
“My home isn’t toddler proofed, and I didn’t have anything for Peony to sleep on.”
“Didn’t?” Of course Mom would pick up on the past tense.
“I was in Eugene this afternoon and bought a few things. Including, er, furniture for her. It arrives on Tuesday.” Which means I need to empty one of the rooms to use as Peony’s room.
And redecorate it so it’s little-girl friendly.The voice in my head belongs to Zara.
Dad scoffs a laugh. “Sounds to me like you don’t care what the paternity test has to say. You’ve already made up your mind she’s your daughter.”
“Kenda had her reasons for finally telling me Peony is ours.” I’m glad she did, though I would’ve preferred she hadn’t waited until she died to tell me. “And given I seem to be the only thing she has left in this world, other than the stuffed panda she showed up with?—”
“What do you mean ‘the only thing she has left’?”
“There was a fire at the apartment where Kenda, Peony, and the nanny were living. They lost everything.”
Mom gasps. “The poor dears.”
I explain to them about Kenda’s request in her letter and about Peony and Athena. “As soon as I have Peony’s and Athena’s rooms set up, I’ll move them into the house. And then you can meet your granddaughter.”
Dad looks like he’s going to argue again, but Mom gives him a quelling glance, and he shuts his mouth.
Mom’s lips push out in a pout. “Do I really have to wait till Tuesday? Couldn’t you arrange for Athena to take Peony to a playground, and we meet them there? That way it might not be so overwhelming for Peony, especially if she’s as shy as you say she is.”
Mom makes a valid point. Things might go better if I can ease Peony in when it comes to meeting my parents.
