Midnight Promises (22 page)

“And anytime I can’t, I’ll come to you, Mama. I promise.”

“Then I’d better run along. I want to bake gingerbread for the grandchildren, and they’ll be home from school soon.”

“Thank you for treating Daisy and Mack like family,” he said.

She regarded him with surprise. “They
are
family,” she said simply.

He knew, that whatever issues she might still have with his marriage to Karen, that much was true. Daisy and Mack were family. He wished it always felt that clear-cut to him.

12

K
aren was taking a break in the kitchen at Sullivan’s after a crazy Saturday lunch hour when the back door opened and Elliott came in with Mack in tow. Her son was only seven, but big for his age with a square body and sturdy legs. He still had the same impish grin he’d had as a toddler, and his eyes were filled with excitement.

“Guess what?” he called out as he ran across the room to hug her.

“What?” she asked, laughing at his exuberance.

“Elliott and me went to the park and all these kids were playing football and Elliott says I can play, too. Isn’t that the best, Mom? It’s just touch football for little kids, but we talked to the coach and everything. We have practice just like the big kids. And our first game is next week. Will you come?” He was all but bouncing up and down with excitement as he reported his big news.

Karen’s gaze shot to her husband. “Football?” she asked quietly. “Without mentioning it to me?”

Elliott shrugged. “I took him to the park. The kids were practicing and he said he wanted to play. Travis, Tom and Cal are coaching the teams and they said he could play with the little guys. You heard him, Karen. They’re playing touch football. There’s no tackling.”

“
So
not the point,” she said tightly, not wanting to start a fight in front of Mack or to ruin her son’s obvious excitement. All she seemed to do recently was put a damper on her family’s enthusiasm for one thing or another.

“Mom, I’m even gonna have a uniform if they can find sponsors for the team,” Mack said, tugging on her sleeve to get her attention. “Maybe Sullivan’s could be a sponsor. You could ask, couldn’t you?”

Apparently sensing that Karen would eat dirt before doing that, Elliott quickly stepped in. “Your mom doesn’t need to do that, buddy. Remember, Mr. Sullivan said he could work it out.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mack said, then looked around the kitchen. “Did Erik bake cookies today? His chocolate chip cookies are the best.”

Karen laughed despite her annoyance. She had no idea what secret ingredient Erik included in his cookie batter, but they were better than hers, or even Maria Cruz’s. Leave it to her traitorous little boy to remind her of that.

“I think he saved a few just in case you stopped by today,” she told Mack, tousling his hair as she went to look for the secret stash Erik always had on hand for the various kids popping in and out of the kitchen these days. She returned with two. “That’s it, kiddo. And once you’re finished getting chocolate all over yourself, make sure Elliott gets you into the tub when you get home. You look as if you’ve been playing in a mud pit.”

Mack grinned. “Playing football is no good if you don’t get dirty,” he advised her. His eyes suddenly went wide. “Maybe I’ll even get cut and need stitches! Timmy Marshall needed six stitches when he got slammed into the ground.”

He sounded as if that were an incredibly desirable badge of honor. He obviously missed the concept that stitches required needles, something he despised.

Karen sighed. She’d hoped for a few more years before her son’s athletic tendencies involved him in some of the more rambunctious sports. Why hadn’t she mentioned that to Elliott? She should have known that her fitness-oriented husband would think football was a perfectly acceptable way for a seven-year-old to spend his Saturday mornings. Now she got to spend those days with her heart in her throat until she saw whether Mack got through the games without an injury.

* * *

Elliott hadn’t started out the day with the intention of signing Mack up for football, but he hadn’t resisted when Mack expressed interest. He hadn’t played in any kind of formal league at that age, but he had hung out with neighborhood kids who were obsessed with the game. He’d had his share of bumps and bruises at Mack’s age. It was all part of growing up, to his way of thinking.

He sighed, thinking about the look on Karen’s face when Mack had made his big announcement. She obviously didn’t see it that way. He knew that was going to come back to bite him in the butt.

When he’d dropped Mack off at his mother’s so he could get to the spa for his afternoon clients, he spotted Cal in Maddie’s office. He tapped on the open door.

“Do you all have a minute?”

Maddie looked up from the papers on her desk. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Karen’s not happy you signed Mack up for football,” Cal guessed at once, giving him a sympathetic look.

Maddie looked startled. “You signed him up without talking it over with her? He’s seven, for goodness’ sakes.”

“He wanted to play,” Elliott said defensively.

“He’s
seven,
” Maddie repeated.

Cal chuckled. “Obviously it’s a mom thing. Dads can’t wait to get our kids involved in every sport out there.”

“Because you seem to forget that those little heads aren’t made out of concrete,” Maddie said in disgust.

“They wear helmets,” Cal reminded her. “And it’s touch football. No tackling allowed.”

“And yet they still get concussions,” Maddie said. “I thank my lucky stars that all Ty ever cared about was baseball, and Kyle never was interested in playing sports at all.”

Cal grinned at her. “But now we have a son who will probably go pro and play for the Falcons or maybe the Carolina Panthers,” he said, speaking of their son who was little more than a toddler.

“Bite your tongue,” Maddie said with feeling. “
If
our baby expresses an interest in playing football in high school, I’ll consider it.”

“Good players start in middle school,” Cal told her. “Some start in the Peewee League.”

“Then our son will be ordinary,” she countered, her expression defiant. “I’m with Karen on this.”

Elliott listened to the exchange, oddly relieved by it. “You really think she was upset because she thinks Mack’s too young to play football?”

“Of course,” Maddie said, giving him a puzzled look. “What did you think it was about?”

“I’m still a little fuzzy on the rules of being a stepdad,” Elliott admitted. “I figured she was furious because she didn’t think I had any right to make the call at all.”

Maddie shook her head. “You’re a fantastic stepfather. Karen knows that. Nope, if you ask me, it was all about making a stupid decision, not about your right to make it.”

Cal chuckled. “My wife, the diplomat.”

Elliott grinned, despite his overall mood. “Hey, I wanted her opinion. She didn’t have to sugarcoat it.”

“As if I would,” Maddie retorted. “It’s not in my nature.”

“I can vouch for that,” Cal said. He winked at her. “It’s actually one of the traits I love about you, at least most of the time.”

She gave him a considering look. “Okay, you’re almost out of that hole you dug for yourself a minute ago. Keep going. What other traits do you love?”

Elliott backed out the door. “That might be too much information for my tender ears. Thanks for the input.”

“Anytime,” Maddie murmured, though she was already distracted because Cal had moved closer and was whispering who-knew-what into her ear. Whatever it was had put a smile on her face and a look in her eyes that Elliott recognized all too well. The man obviously knew exactly how to charm his wife. Elliott should probably ask for lessons.

* * *

“You signed him up without even asking me,” Karen complained in a hushed voice to Elliott that night. “I thought we’d agreed that we needed to talk about things like this.”

Elliott frowned at her words. “I could use a little clarity here. Is this about the possibility that Mack could be injured playing touch football, which is what I thought your objection was, or is it about me not consulting you?”

“Both,” she said at once. “Mostly it’s a problem because I’m his mother. I get to decide what he can and can’t do.” She spoke without thinking through the implication of her words. Only when she saw the immediate hurt in Elliott’s eyes did she realize she’d taken entirely the wrong approach. He looked as if she’d slapped him. As annoyed as she’d been, she realized his reaction was totally justified, but before she could muster an apology, he was on his feet.

“I see,” he said softly. He stood up and headed for the door. “I need to go out. I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

Stunned that he would walk out in the middle of a discussion, she stared at him. “You’re leaving now?”

“If I don’t, we’re both going to say things we don’t mean. We need a time-out. Since I’m sure you don’t want to leave
your
son and daughter, then I’m the one who needs to go.”

Hearing her own ill-advised comment thrown back at her with so much pain in Elliott’s voice snapped her out of her own anger. She hurried after him and caught up as he stepped outside.

“I’m sorry,” she said, filled with contrition. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out. You’re a wonderful father to Daisy and Mack in every way that counts.”

“But you’re the biological parent,” he said stiffly. “Obviously I should keep that in mind.”

She crossed the porch and touched his arm, felt the muscle quiver, saw the tension in the set of his shoulders. “I am so, so sorry.”

Elliott sighed. “It’s clear we have a lot more work to do on our communication skills,
querida.
We can’t keep hurting each other like this.”

“You’re right,” she said at once. “Can we table all of this for now? Frances is taking the kids tomorrow night. I’ll fix a special dinner, and we’ll talk. We need to decide how we’re going to handle situations like this when they come up.”

Elliott held her gaze. “What we need to decide is what my role is to be with your children,” he told her. “I don’t want to be an uninvolved father figure who’s little more than a babysitter from time to time.”

“Of course not,” she said at once. “You’ve never been that.”

“And we need to figure all this out before we consider having a baby of our own,” he added. “We can’t have one set of rules for our child and another for Daisy and Mack.”

“Agreed.”

He faced her, then held her gaze. “Before this dinner tomorrow, maybe you should think about whether you’d let me adopt Daisy and Mack. Their father hasn’t been around in years. I think Helen could work out the legalities, if it’s what you want. I
know
it’s what I want. I’ve been telling you that for a long time, but you’ve brushed me off every time it’s come up.”

Karen regarded him with surprise. “I always thought you were talking theoretically. I guess I didn’t realize how much it would mean to you. I should have understood.”

“It’s difficult being the outsider in the family.”

Karen was genuinely stunned that she’d made him feel that way. “I’ve never meant for you to feel like an outsider. You’re more of a father to Daisy and Mack than Ray ever was. That’s how they think of you. You know that.”