An Unexpected Match (12 page)

Elizabeth scrambled into one of the chairs and settled on her knees. “Is it time yet, Daddy?”

“Almost,” he said.

His gaze met Haley's as she glanced back over her shoulder. He lifted an eyebrow, seeming to ask her if she wanted to take the lead on the project. Was that why he had invited her to join them?

She chewed her lip. This wasn't how it was supposed to work. She hadn't come tonight with her special activity bag to entertain Elizabeth. This was Matthew's event with his child, and he deserved to get to be the hero in it.

She leaned close to him as she carried the remaining colors to the table. “Just wing it,” she whispered. “That's what my dad did.”

Matthew nodded and then headed back to the sink where he placed the eggs into an empty carton. Haley's admission that her dad hadn't been perfect seemed to give him permission to enjoy the activity without grading himself.

“How did your dad end up in charge of that activity, anyway? Didn't your mom handle the holidays? I know my mom's Christmas celebrations are the stuff that legends are made of. Or maybe cautionary tales.”

Haley guessed there was a funny story behind that comment, but she didn't ask this time. A certain four-year-old was counting on them to stick with the topic at hand. “Mom hated the mess that the eggs made, so dad took on the project every year and cleaned it up himself.”

“Your mom was right about that. It can get messy, but I'm certain Elizabeth will be careful. If we follow her example, we'll be just fine.”

“Oh, I'll be careful, Daddy.”

He returned to the table carrying the eggs, the wire tool used to lower eggs into the water mixtures and the cardboard stand where the colored eggs would dry.

Soon they were taking turns drawing stripes and dots on eggshells with the wax crayon. Matthew even played the artist when Elizabeth asked him to draw a big-eared mouse on one of them. What the mouse had to do with Easter, Haley wasn't sure, but the child was insistent that she needed it.

After the preparation work on the first six eggs was complete, they began dunking them in the glasses of dye. Really, Matthew did all of the dunking, but he allowed Elizabeth to stir the colored water around once the egg was in it. Haley tried to remain an observer of the activity, present and engaged but not quite a part of the action.

“Can we do one with Jesus on the cross?” Instead of waiting for her father's answer, Elizabeth turned to Haley and said importantly, “Easter is when Jesus came to life again after he died on the cross. It isn't about the Easter Bunny.”

“Wow, that's pretty big of you to already know that.” As usual, the precocious preschooler had amazed Haley, but she recognized the child hadn't gained the knowledge in a vacuum. “Who taught you those important things?”

“Daddy and Grammy.”

“Well, it sounds like they're very good teachers.” She caught Matthew's gaze and smiled. He seemed pleased by her compliment. Maybe she'd been wrong in her assumptions about Matthew's faith. Just because he experienced it differently didn't mean he missed feeling joy in his faith. How could he not when he'd made such an effort to instill his beliefs in his child?

“Daddy, Miss Haley says it's okay that we still play pretend about the Easter Bunny.”

Haley straightened in her seat, that sinking sense that she'd messed up again settling in her gut. Yes, she'd said something to that effect, but they were talking about Easter baskets. She wasn't making any personal faith statement, but her words had come back to bite her, anyway. She braced her hand on the edge of the table and waited for another of Matthew's criticisms.

But Matthew, who had grabbed another egg and was drawing on it with a wax crayon, only looked up casually. “Well, she's right. Pretending is just for fun.”

Haley wished she could hide her face, which felt too warm not to be red. His approval warmed her heart in a way she couldn't explain. It signaled not only that he thought she was doing a good job but that he understood just how important his daughter had become to her.

The remaining eggs, Elizabeth decided, didn't need pictures on them at all. She dunked them in multiple colors instead. “Hey, Daddy. Can we use these for the Easter egg hunt at Grammy's?”

“We could, but don't you usually like the kind of eggs that Grammy hides better? You know the plastic kind with candy and little toys in them. It's up to you.” He gave an exaggerated shrug.

The child appeared to ponder for a few seconds and then said, “We can have Grammy's kind.”

He turned to Haley. “Mom always hosts Easter dinner, and she puts on an Easter egg hunt just for Elizabeth.”

“That's cool,” Haley said when she turned to Elizabeth. “That means you get all the eggs.”

“Until there are other grandchildren, which, if you know my brothers, won't be for a while.”

He was probably right, Haley decided. Dylan didn't seem all that interested in dating right now, and Logan would have a hard time picking just one woman from his collection of dates. She didn't know where Matthew stood on the issue, and it would be in her best interest not to ask. She shouldn't start creating hearth-and-home fantasies about Matthew and her again.

Needing a distraction, Haley turned to Elizabeth. While the two adults had been talking, she was now carefully transporting eggs one by one from the drying box to their original carton.

Across the table, Matthew was studying his daughter. “Are you sad because you chose to have other kinds of eggs at Grammy's?”

Elizabeth nodded, touching one of the colorful shells.

“Don't worry. You may have both kinds of eggs there. We'll keep these in the refrigerator until Sunday, and then after church we'll put them in an Easter basket and take them to eat at Grammy's.”

“Eat?” Her eyes went wide with shocked horror. “We can't eat them.”

“Of course, we can, silly.” He reached over and tugged one of her braids. “That's what you're
supposed
to do with Easter eggs. Some kinds of art you just look at, but this kind of art you eat.”

Her eyes were already brimming with tears again, but she blinked them back. “Really?”

“Really.” He nodded for emphasis. “We'll put them in the basket and make sure everybody gets to see all the pretty colors and decorations first.”

“Even Grammy and Grandma Trina and Uncle Dylan and Uncle Logan.”

Probably only them, Haley wanted to say, but she kept it to herself. Matthew had done such a great job with this activity. He'd had fun playing with his daughter, reaching out of his comfort zone to become an even better father. Haley was relieved for him that the evening hadn't ended in a meltdown over their art project's edible end.

“We'll even take a picture if you want to,” Matthew told her. “Then we'll let each person pick a favorite egg, and we'll all eat them.”

“I get the cross one,” she announced.

“It's yours.”

Elizabeth applauded with hands that were stained with dye. The matter of consumable art settled, Matthew sent his daughter upstairs to get her pajamas ready for her bath and to pick out the story they would read together afterward.

“I'll get to this when I get back.” He indicated with a wide sweep the mess that remained in the kitchen.

“Don't worry. I'll get it.”

“I didn't invite you here as a maid. You're the guest. I'll clean it up as soon as I'm done up there.”

“No, really. I can be done with it by the time—”

Matthew crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at her until she stopped talking. “Okay, you may help. But could you at least wait until I get back so we can do it together?”

“Fine.”

“Oh, did your mom tell you that you're invited to Easter dinner at my mom's house?”

“Mom mentioned it. She also said it was too bad that Caroline and Jenna couldn't make it back for Easter.”

“That's too bad,” he said in a solemn voice, but he wore a hint of a smile.

“I think I should be offended on my sisters' behalf.”

“Don't be. Really.”

She gave a noncommittal shrug that probably was no more convincing than his
disappointment
that her sisters wouldn't make it for Easter. He was probably no more relieved than she was that at least one Warren-Scott family dinner wouldn't double as a matchmaking session.

Haley didn't want to analyze why this mattered so much to her. She hadn't even been one of the targets of their mothers' efforts. The truth was it did matter.

She would have liked to think that her feelings were magnanimous: that she hated to see Matthew and Caroline so uncomfortable being thrown together. But to call Haley's interest “selfless” would be more of a stretch than most rubber bands offered. If the two moms kept pressing, they just might get their way. Matthew and Caroline probably would think dinner and a movie was a small price to get the matchmakers off their backs for a while.

That was what Haley dreaded most. When Matthew went out with Caroline, he would discover that their mothers were right: she was great. He would see how amazing Caroline was and how much he had in common with her. Those were good things, right? She dreaded that moment, though, because when Matthew finally recognized Caroline's amazing qualities, he would no longer see Haley at all.

S
he'd waited for him. Matthew wasn't sure why it pleased him so much that she hadn't cleaned up without him, but it did. It couldn't be that he enjoyed spending time with her and wanted to extend it for as long as he could. He preferred to think that he didn't want to feel guilty for letting her clean up after him.

At the newspaper-covered table, Haley sat sipping a can of soda, her thoughts appearing nowhere near his yellow kitchen. She didn't notice him as he entered the room. He couldn't help wondering where her thoughts had traveled. Wherever it was, her sad expression didn't make it seem like a happy place.

As if she sensed his gaze on her, Haley turned to look at him over her shoulder.

“So you waited after all.”

Her expression transformed as a glimmer of mischief appeared in her eyes. “Are you kidding? I'm one of three sisters. I learned early on never to do a job or at least a
whole
job when I could insist that everyone do her share.”

“Unfortunately, I never could get my brothers to do theirs.”

“Caroline would probably say the same thing about Jenna and me, but I wouldn't buy it if I were you. Our mothers are quite a bit alike. Neither suffered slackers easily.”

“Are you sure that wasn't ‘fools'?”

“Those, too.”

When Matthew glanced at the mess on the table, Haley's gaze followed his. The only thing missing from when he'd left earlier was the carton of eggs.

“Oh, I did put the eggs away,” she said. “If we're all going to have to eat them on Sunday, I figured we wouldn't want to get sick.”

“Good thinking.”

Together, they transported the glasses of dye from the table to the counter and then started rolling up the newspapers from both ends to the center. The experience reminded Matthew of a certain shaving cream cleanup.

“What's so funny?”

“The only thing missing here is the scent of lime.”

“We could arrange that if you'd like it.”

He shook his head. “That won't be necessary.”

As he wadded up the damp newspapers and stuffed them in the trash can, Matthew cleared his throat. “I wanted to thank you for tonight. It was great.”

“
You
were great,” she gushed. Her cheeks turned an attractive shade of pink. “I mean you did a great job. Elizabeth had a blast.”

“She did, didn't she?” He was probably grinning like a idiot, but he didn't care. He was even impressed with himself tonight. “I worried she was going to lose it when I mentioned eating the eggs.”

“Do you think Michelangelo or Gauguin would have
handled it any better if you suggested eating
their
artwork?”

“Probably not,” he said with a shrug. “Anyway, I just wanted to say that I really appreciated you being here. I feel so out of my element when I do arts and crafts or try to play pretend with her.”

Haley stepped to the sink and poured the liquids down the drain, avoiding getting the dye on the white porcelain. “You shouldn't worry about doing those things. You did just fine. I'm sure you always do, even if you're uncomfortable with the activities.”

As she rinsed each of the glasses, Haley handed them to Matthew, who loaded them in the dishwasher.

“It's easy for you,” he said as he loaded the final glass. “You're a natural with Elizabeth. Even when you're playing pretend with her, it doesn't look like an act.”

“It's not an act.” She turned her head to look at him with a confused expression on her face, and then, as if she thought she understood, she stiffened. “Those of us who aren't quite grown-ups find it easy to relate to kids.”

“That's not what I meant.”

Her lips pressed into a line, Haley shut off the water, all the while looking at him with her side vision.

“What I meant was,” he began, trying again. “Oh, learn to take a compliment, will you?”

“I will when I hear one. That one sounded pretty backhanded to me.”

“Only if you chose to hear it that way.”

“Are you trying to convince me or the judge?”

Her sardonic comment made him smile. “Both, of course. Attorneys like to win all arguments, whether we're paid for them or not.”

That she didn't even chuckle told him he was losing this
argument at an alarming pace. Even if he'd never called her a child, he'd told her she didn't have any structure in her life. Once he'd even slipped and called her a “girl,” but that probably had more to do with him seeing the Haley he remembered than the one he knew now. Suddenly, the things he'd said and thought seemed unfair.

“I'm sorry. I really was trying to compliment you.” He turned to face her so she could see he wasn't kidding. “I didn't intend to include any veiled barbs about your maturity, though I can see how you might suspect me.” He glanced at the floor and then back up at her. “I was pretty hard on you.”

For a few seconds, she didn't answer. Instead, she reached in the drawer to the left of the sink for a washcloth, rinsed it and wiped down the kitchen counters. “You're just as hard on yourself,” she said finally.

Matthew took her comment as acceptance of his apology. Instead of waiting for her to change her mind, he took out the teakettle and filled it with water in an unspoken invitation for her to join him. After he put it on the stove, he turned back, lifting an eyebrow in question. Her tiny nod pleased him far more than it should have.

While she moved to the table to clean, he took out cups and a box of herbal tea.

“You've always expected so much of yourself in everything you do.” Haley returned to the table.

It took Matthew a moment to realize she'd continued with the point she'd started to make earlier.

“I guess I have,” he admitted. Dunking tea bags into two mugs of hot water, he carried them and some napkins over to the table and sat.

“What you don't realize,” she continued as she bobbed
her tea bag, “is that Elizabeth doesn't expect you to be the perfect parent.”

“I know that, but—”

“Do you? Really?” She removed her tea bag and rested it on the napkin.

He looked at her, not at all certain that he did know. What was he really afraid of, that Elizabeth would announce to everyone that he'd failed to meet her needs? She was four years old. She still ranked eating ice cream or playing preschool board games right up there with shopping for a new toy.

“If you're not sure,” Haley began, “I want to clarify for you that she doesn't expect perfection. You're the only one who does. You're her hero. She's thrilled when you play with her or do activities with her. Just look at the happy dance she does when you come home from work.”

Matthew nodded. Her argument was sound, even if he was having a hard time accepting it. Vulnerability didn't sit well with him, either. He felt most comfortable when he was in control of his life, and now he felt like a rowboat adrift in a squall.

“I just don't want anyone to fail her again,” he said with a frustrated sigh.

“You understand that you can't shield her from that, don't you? Whether it's a classmate, coworker, future boyfriend or even a fiancé,” she paused long enough to smile over at him, “people are bound to fail her or disappoint her. Even a great dad like you doesn't have the power to protect his child from that pain.”

“Isn't it enough that she lost her mother?”

“It's a lot to handle.”

Matthew studied her for several seconds. Yes, this was the same Haley Scott he'd known since she took her first
steps, and yet it wasn't. She was still young, but she seemed like an old soul living in that youthful form, seasoned by life and yet not broken by it.

“When did you get so wise?” he asked her finally.

“When my life changed in the time it took to read a ‘Dear Jane' letter.”

“Probably long before that,” he couldn't help saying.

During all the time Matthew had been getting to know Haley again, he'd been impressed by her restraint in not asking about his failed marriage. She hadn't even asked on the night when he'd nearly spilled his guts all on his own. Maybe her mother had warned her that the subject was off-limits, or maybe her own wounds were too fresh for her to wish to share anyone else's. He'd never wanted to give all the gory details, anyway.

But now he found he wanted to share it with her, to let her see that others had faced unimaginable pain and had come out the other side, if not whole, then at least patched up.

“Why haven't you ever asked me about Stacey?”

“It wasn't my business.”

“That's fair. I probably would have told you that if you'd asked.”

“I know. Anyway, I appreciated you not forcing me to talk about Tom right after the breakup, and I wanted to return the favor. I figured you would talk about it when you were ready.”

He tilted his head to the side. “So you don't want to know?”

“I want to know.”

Haley tried not to look too eager. She'd been waiting a long time to hear this story, at least the part of it only Matthew could relate, and she didn't want him to reconsider telling her.

For several long seconds, he said nothing. He took on a faraway expression, as if he had to relive it all in order to discuss it. She almost told him she didn't want to know after all. She didn't want to make him experience that pain again just so she could know his story.

“Do you realize that you're the only member of the Scott family who didn't attend my wedding? Even your dad was there.”

Okay, this wasn't the way she would have broached the subject, but then it wasn't her story to tell.

“I guess I did know that.” She remembered coming up with an elaborate but true excuse so she didn't have to attend the event with her family. There were limits on how much humiliation a person could withstand, and that wedding would have put her over her threshold.

“I remember noticing that you weren't there, and I felt badly that you didn't come.”

“Really? You noticed? You didn't hear about it from your mother or brothers later?”

She couldn't bring herself to ask why he'd felt badly, just as he didn't ask her why she hadn't come. They both knew why. It probably had sounded like a lame excuse then because it felt even sillier now. What had happened between them had been so far under the bridge that it could have traveled to the ocean by then, and still she hadn't been able to face him. She'd never considered that he would have been aware of her absence, let alone been bothered by it.

“No, I noticed.” He nodded as if to affirm what he'd said. “It's strange the things you focus on at your wedding. Like people who crash the reception or people who RSVP and then don't show up. Never the important things like whether you should be getting married at all.”

She didn't know how to answer that. Maybe her near-marriage offered her a little experience to draw on, but it wasn't enough to have something profound to say. Instead, she sipped her tea and waited. If nothing else, she could give him a listening ear.

“I never even realized she wasn't happy,” Matthew blurted.

Trying not to show her surprise, Haley reached for her napkin and blotted her lips. Though she expected the rest of his story to come out in fits and starts, after he had started, he rushed on as if he needed to get it all out at once.

“Elizabeth had been only six months old. I was still in awe of the whole parenting thing, amazed by this perfect little person.” He paused long enough to brush his hands through his hair. “Anyway, Stacey probably gave signals that things weren't right, but I never saw them. One day she was just gone.

“Her note said that she needed to find herself, as if she was lost or something. She said she didn't want to be a mother. Never had.”

“How could she say something like that? She
was
a mother!” Haley blinked, stopping herself before she said more. Still, fury on behalf of Matthew and that sweet little child flowed through her veins. She took a deep breath to calm herself. “I'm sorry. I don't even know this woman, and I've become her judge and jury.”

She shook her head as the anger refused to fade. “Didn't she realize how blessed she was?”

For a few seconds, Matthew only watched her, and then he smiled. “Are you sure you want to hear the rest of this? Your blood pressure might not be able to take it.”

“I can handle it,” she said, frowning. He was kidding
her; she recognized that. But he also seemed pleased to have her as a champion.

“Well, I didn't hear from Stacey until six months later. That contact came in the form of divorce papers. She didn't even come to the hearing. She didn't ask for any of our possessions or any visitation with Elizabeth.” He shrugged. “My attorney told me it was the most civil divorce she'd ever handled. Stacey just wanted out.”