Home For Christmas. Carrie Weaver
past. But Nancy made him respond physically whether he wanted to or not. Worse, she challenged every brain cell he had. Contrary to his rough exterior, he read voraciously and could carry on a conversation about world politics or great philosophers as well as the next guy. He just chose not to let on most of the time.
No, it was better if he didn’t run into Nancy. A man had only so much self-control, and he, it seemed, had less than most. He had three ex-wives to prove it.
Beau absently fingered the business cards in the breast pocket of his western shirt. His reason for joining Parents Flying Solo was to network, plain and simple. If he wanted to hang on to the job that allowed him to stay in town with his daughter, he needed to keep generating more sales than the owner’s cousin.
So Beau concentrated on his personal three Ms: mix, mingle, make eye contact. “Hey, how’s it going?” He greeted a man he’d met the week prior. Chip? Trey?
They chatted for a few moments when the group leader, a balding, middle-age man, signaled for quiet. “I attended a Parents Flying Solo summit last weekend and gleaned a few tips on increasing participation. It’s been brought to my attention that some of the members are too shy to utilize the group phone list. This is an important resource during those times when you need to talk to another adult or you think you’ll lose your mind.” The leader chuckled and so did Chip or Trey or whatever his name was.
Beau found himself nodding. He sure could have used another adult to talk to when he’d first found himself the sole parental unit responsible for a teenage daughter.
“A few other groups in the region have had success with the buddy system. Each member is assigned a buddy to help him or her through the rough spots.” He picked up a basket and held it aloft. “Here are names of all our members. Pairs will be assigned randomly. I’m asking you to leave personal likes and dislikes at the door and make the buddy system a success. Each and every member has the potential for learning and teaching.”
Glancing around the room, Beau was relieved Nancy still hadn’t appeared. And a little disappointed, too. But that was the old Beau. The new Beau was all business.
Yeah, right.
The group leader pulled names from the basket. Some announcements were met with dead silence, as if Snidely Whiplash had been paired with Dudley Do-Right or worse, the lovely, innocent Nell. But nobody protested aloud.
“Beau Stanton.”
Beau glanced around and mentally catalogued the people still available. Emily Patterson hadn’t been paired yet and seemed relatively safe. Maybe he’d get her. He liked her cheerful, down-to-earth attitude. And there was an underlying layer of steel that might be helpful when dealing with Rachel. Somehow, he knew Emily could whip Rachel into shape in five minutes flat.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, he rocked back on his heels while he waited for the other slip of paper to be drawn.
“Two cookies,” a child screeched from the direction of the ladies’ restroom.
Beau was pretty sure he recognized the voice.
An adult female admonished the girl to be quiet as they exited the restroom.
He would have known that honeyed accent anywhere.
“Nancy McGuire,” the leader read from a slip of paper. “You’re buddies with our newest member, Beau Stanton.”
Beau cleared his throat. “Um, are you sure that’s right?”
The hostile glances sent in his direction would have wilted a lesser man. But Beau was a three-time loser fighting for his life. “I mean, um, my daughter’s fourteen. It might be more beneficial if I was paired with another parent of a teen.”
He could feel the crowd turning on him. They’d stoically accepted their fate, why couldn’t he accept his?
“Certainly not. Again, all members have the ability to teach and learn. Our next name is....”
The roaring in his ears drowned out most of the rest. He was aware of Nancy handing him her business card, as if he didn’t already have access to her phone number from her loan documents. As if he hadn’t copied it to his desk calendar, toying with the idea of asking her out.
He automatically withdrew a card from his pocket and handed it to her. She mouthed something about calling him later and pulled Ana, kicking and screaming, toward the door.
He was a dead man.
Beau had a vision of God somewhere above, laughing his ass off.
Nancy held Ana’s warm, little frame close to her chest and inhaled the scent of baby shampoo and freshly scrubbed little girl. Her heart did a flip-flop of joy. These were the times to be treasured.
Easing into the antique bentwood rocker, she sighed at the pure luxury of sitting. She pushed gently with her foot.
Ana snuggled close and murmured, “Mama.”
“Yes, sunshine, Mama’s here.”
She continued rocking long after Ana’s eyes had fluttered closed and her breathing slowed. Having a child was a miracle Nancy had given up on long ago.
Sighing, she rolled her neck to work out the kinks. The power struggles and tantrums would ease in a few months. Tatiana would grow out of them, she was sure. Nancy just wished she was half as sure she’d survive her first year of motherhood. Nobody had told her how all-consuming it was. And rewarding. And frustrating. And how she wouldn’t change a minute of it.
She’d joined Parents Flying Solo at the urging of Ana’s pediatrician. After two sleepless nights for both mother and daughter, and one ruptured eardrum for Ana due to an infection, Nancy had surrendered to her doubts. Would she ever get it right?
The kindly doctor had told her there were no right or wrong answers with parenting. Children, even children who weren’t adopted from a foreign country, didn’t come with instruction manuals. With the initial cultural and language barriers and the fact that Nancy was single and had no one to help pick up the slack, she had been severely in danger of burnout. And what would have happened to Tatiana then?
That’s how he’d convinced her to join the support group for single parents. For Ana, not for herself.
But then she’d met Emily and a few other parents and she’d enjoyed talking with people who understood what she was going through. No one seemed to look down on her because she, a single woman, had chosen to adopt a child and now was experiencing the trials that went with it.
It was a much different scenario from some of the people back home in McGuireville, Arkansas. Many of those had made veiled comments about her suitability as a parent. As if having a man in the house would guarantee a bright, normal, carefree childhood for Ana. She’d be willing to bet those narrow-minded folks would feel she deserved to struggle in her new role as a mother.
So how to handle her new parenting buddy? Her concentration had been so focused on getting Ana outside before a full-blown tantrum, she’d barely heard her name and the fact she’d been paired with Beau Stanton. She’d only had time to fling her business card in Beau’s direction, accept his card and leave.
As she placed Ana in her crib, the phone rang.
It was Beau.
His accent brought memories of another man, another place. And a sense of loss so intense she sucked in a breath. No, she couldn’t allow memories of Eric to somehow get tangled up with Beau, urging her to rewrite history by trying to get another restless man to change.
Beau’s words seeped through her distraction. “I’m quitting.”
“You’re dropping out of the group?” Her voice was shrill.
“I’ve given it some thought. I, um, joined the group under false pretenses and it wouldn’t be fair for me to be a buddy to anyone.”
Just as she’d suspected. Beau was a lying,