Page 51 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
“I’d been planning to travel and vlog on the road. I have a map with all the locations I want to check out.” The light in her eyes returned. This is what she loved. “It would be kind of like theAmerican Pickershow. Travel, pick up pieces for the shop, and vlog the whole time. I was hoping to find sponsors too to help fund me. But Dad always thought it was too dangerous for me to go alone.”
My stomach twisted at the thought of her and our child on the road, alone. I knew she could take care of herself, but if something went wrong, she wouldn't have anyone to lean on.
Unless I go with her. But would I have to give up my career to stay with her?Could I give up my career to stay, even if I wanted to? And would I regret it if I did?
Once the idea entered my head, it took root and burrowed its way into my subconscious. “I’m guessing hereallydidn’t like that idea once he knew you were pregnant.”
She shook her head. “Especially not then.”
Shame ate at me. “I’m sorry. So much of your life is changing because of the baby. All I’ve been thinking about is how having a baby would affect me.”
She bit her lip, trying to hide the chuckle under her breath. “Well, you haven’t had the same amount of time as I have to get used to the idea. I was giving you space to think about it.”
“Do you want me to be in the baby’s life?”
She blew out a breath and gave me an uncertain look. “I don’t know.”
Her words hit like a sucker punch to my chest. “I get it.”
“Lincoln, we don’t really know each other all that well. From the time we’ve spent together, I know I like you. For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a good dad. You might be jaded by your childhood, but you’re still a decent guy. You care about people, and I hate to say this, but it didn’t sound like your parents cared about anyone besides themselves.”
I rubbed my hand down my face. “You’re not wrong about them.”
“The thing that worries me the most is the press.”
Time slowed as I carefully considered her words. This was the second time she’d brought this up. My parents had done an excellent job at keeping me away from the media outlets, although they’d done it so they wouldn’t have to share the spotlight with me, not to keep me safe or guard me from scrutinizing gazes. “Why? There are lots of celebrities who keep their kids out of or on the fringes of the public eye.”
Her eyebrows drew together, and deep grooves etched in her forehead. “You don’t get it, Lincoln. Negative press candestroysomeone. I don’t want that for our kid.”
Harper was hinting at something important, something not to be left alone. “Help me understand,” I whispered.
She wrapped her arms around her body. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at a spot over my shoulder. When she finally spoke, her voice was broken, raw-sounding. “Kids are vulnerable. Words hurt and stay with you forever. As a baby, they wouldn’t understand, but as they got older—there’s only so much a parent can do to shield their child from that kind of hurt.”
My heart thundered. A helpless feeling washed over me. Gently, I laid my hand on her knee, attempting to pull her from whatever nightmare she was envisioning.
She took my hand within hers, her grip so tight I had to hold back a wince. “It happened to me. I promised myself I’d never let my kid get caught in the spotlight. Or have to face what I did.”
“What happened?”
Her head violently shook back and forth. “Ihatetalking about it.”
I intentionally softened my voice. “How can I help if you won’t tell me?”
“You can’t. It’s in the past. There’s nothing anyone can do.” She stood. Her body trembled, and her eyes grew cloudy. Her feet rocked back and forth like she wanted to run. Then her gaze fell on the small box on the coffee table. “Shit. I still need to record the show today.”
“Hey.” I stood and laid my hand on her cheek. “I won’t push you to talk about it. Stay. Let’s have lunch, and then we can record your show like I promised.”
She bit her lip as she considered my request. I imagined memories of her past filled her mind.
Finally, her shoulders dropped, and she let out a broken sigh. “Okay. I’ll stay. I don’t really have a choice. I don’t have a lot of time left to pull the episode together.”
I smiled at Harper and took her hand. “Let’s go see what we have in the kitchen.” As much as I wanted to know what had her on edge, I needed to wait until she was ready to tell me.
During lunch, Harper mumbled one-word responses to most of my questions. Even asking more about her previous junk-cades didn’t spark a lively discussion.
Harper blinked a few times and brought her wandering gaze back to me. “I’m sorry. I’m still thinking about our conversation.”
“I promised I wouldn’t push you for answers. I meant it.”
