His Surprise Son. Wendy Warren
to you. In the back of my mind, I’ve always wondered what would have happened if I’d told him you changed your mind and were keeping the baby.”
“Nothing!” Izzy answered swiftly, her pulse speeding. “Nothing good would have happened. He’d already made his decision. If you had told him I was keeping the baby, he’d have sicced his parents on me again, so they could make me change my mind, and I was stressed enough without that.”
Insisting that adoption was the only sensible solution to the “problem” of Izzy’s pregnancy, Nate’s parents had argued their point of view convincingly. The Thayers were blue-collar folks who had worked day and night, literally, to ensure that their son’s life would be easier than their own. Wasn’t Izzy also eager for a better life? Didn’t she, too, want to attend college? And if she truly cared about Nate, how would she feel watching the plans for his future slip away? Those were some of the arguments they had used to convince her everyone’s life would be ruined unless she put the baby up for adoption.
At first Izzy had allowed them to persuade her, and Nate had gone to college believing Izzy agreed with the adoption plans and assured by his parents that they would “watch over” Izzy during her pregnancy. And they had.
Mrs. Thayer had accompanied her to an ob-gyn in Bend, far enough away that no one in Thunder Ridge would know what was going on. Then his mother had made an appointment with an adoption lawyer, too, and had sat beside Izzy, holding her hand, throughout the first visit. No “mother” had held her hand before.
And so Izzy had done what she had sworn to herself she absolutely would not do again: she had hoped. She had begun to believe the Thayers liked her, that the baby was becoming real to them, as it was to her. Surely this caring—this is what family did for one another.
And Nate’s weekly check-in calls...
At first, she had excused the fact their duration was brief and the content superficial. After all, the first weeks of college were busy and stressful. He would tell her a bit about his life when she asked him specific questions and he would ask her how she was feeling—whether she was eating right, if she was able to keep up with senior year homework. That, along with his parents’ interest, had been enough for her to begin dreaming again...
Maybe Nate would miss her and ask her to come to Chicago...
His parents would realize they couldn’t give up their first grandbaby...
She would prove that she could become a mother and support Nate’s studies and eventually his career, and someday the Thayers—and Nate—would look back and thank God that Izzy and her child were part of the family.
Welcome to fantasyland, Izzy thought now, where we pay no attention to pesky details like reality.
She had Mrs. Thayer to thank for setting her straight. With crystal clarity, she’d shown Izzy that Nate did not want her or her baby.
So in her fourth month of pregnancy, Izzy had left town, telling the Thayers she preferred to handle the adoption on her own, without their help, and that they could pass that information along to Nate, since she had no desire to see him again.
“I gave Nate’s parents exactly the out they were hoping for,” she said to Henry. “It was better for everyone’s sake to let them think they were getting what they wanted. The truth wouldn’t have changed the outcome anyway. It just would have created more tension and fighting.”
For a moment, Henry looked as if he wanted to argue, but how could he? They both remembered exactly how Nate’s family had felt about her. She had reminded them of everything they had worked so hard to rise above.
“Eli will be at camp for two weeks,” she reminded Henry. “I’m not sure how long Nate plans to be in town, but he is not entitled to any information that could hurt Eli in the long run.” As she spoke, she began to feel stronger. “Our policy has got to be don’t ask, don’t tell. Eli has me. He has you and Sam and Derek and everyone else at the deli. He knows you all love him and accept him exactly as he is. If he wants to look for his father when he’s eighteen, that’s his prerogative. Until then, it’s my job to protect him.” That had been her purpose all these years. “The Thayers wanted perfection—a son with a degree, six figures a year and a perfect family. Eli and I will never fit that mold.”
Henry shook his head. “You talk about what his parents wanted, but what did Nate want, dear heart?”
She smiled at the endearment. Dear heart. God had been good to her: despite her false starts, she’d been given a family. She answered Henry’s question honestly. “Nate wanted the life he planned before he met me.” She shrugged, way past the grief that had once consumed her. “We really were too young. If nothing else, the Thayers were right about that. Nate was a college-bound jock looking for a lighthearted summer romance, and I was a desperate, love-hungry teen.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
Izzy shrugged, unconcerned. “Maybe.”
Taking her seat, she fired up the computer. She had fought for the life she now lived, and it was a good one, built on hard work and a stern levelheadedness. She didn’t try to fool herself anymore.
Did she ever want more than she already had? Yes, sure. Sometimes. It was only natural that deep in the night, she would occasionally wish for a hand she could curl her fingers around, a bare foot to bump into, someone to hold her and make her feel warm again when life’s relentless everyday worries left her cold. But in those hungry, vulnerable moments, she would picture Eli as an adult—tall and strong, confident and self-accepting, pursuing a career he was passionate about and maybe starting a family of his own—and that would keep her on her path.
Right now, she needed to get back to business. Business was always a safe harbor.
She knew Henry would be pleased with some of the ideas she’d had while he was on vacation. Tapping on her keyboard, she said, “I’ve got some interesting advertising options to show you.”
In minutes they were talking about social media and mail outs and not mentioning Nate Thayer at all. Deep, deep in her gut, though, she wondered how long she could keep it that way.
Nate hadn’t experienced small-town life for a long time, and while some things had definitely changed, others remained memorably the same. The Thunder Ridge Public Library was a perfect example.
Still a two-story structure with a basement and ground-level square footage, the seventy-year-old building had the same heavy wooden tables and chairs and ancient shelving Nate remembered. Still smelled the same, too—a little bit like old books and a little bit like the dogs that had always been allowed to accompany their owners indoors. The major difference as far as he could tell was the current librarian, Holliday Bailey.
Ms. Bailey looked and smelled nothing like old Mrs. Rhiner, who, as Nate recalled, had resembled George Patton and smelled faintly of cooked broccoli.
“I can place a hold on some of the books you’re looking for and have them sent here through our interlibrary loan system. The problem is you’re not a local, Mr. Thayer. How am I going to get you a library card?”
Holliday tapped shiny cherry fingernails on her mouse, her matching red lips pursed as she looked from the computer screen to Nate. “And you said you’re staying at the inn? All by your lonesome?”
“That’s right.”
“Have you any friends in town, Mr. Thayer? Of the very close variety?”
“None with library cards they want to loan me, if that’s what you’re getting at, Ms. Bailey.”
“That’s exactly what I was getting at.” When she shook her head, silky dark brown hair that looked like a shampoo ad brushed her shoulders. “We need to connect you with someone in a position of power...so you can get the books you need.”
Nate grinned. Holliday