Marriage On The Cards. Susan Carlisle
not stupid,” Rayna said. “It’s human.”
“I suppose so...” Mackenzie helped Max to the floor safely. “You know what, guys? If it’s all the same to you, I think I’m just gonna skip dinner.”
“Are you sure?” Rayna asked, disappointed. “I was going to try out a new recipe on you! And I have wine...”
“Yeah. I’m sure.” She stood up, glad that she lived next door. “I just need some time to...decompress before Hope gets back from the movies.”
“Bath salts, candles and a hot bath.” Rayna hugged her tightly at the door. “Everything always looks better after a bath.”
* * *
Dylan drove slowly up the winding, tree-lined private driveway that led to his aunt’s farm. When he was growing up, and Uncle Bill was still alive, the farm had been bustling with activity. Now the place felt lifeless. The horses were gone, the stable hands and horse trainers were gone. The only thing left were empty pastures, empty stables and Aunt Gerri’s sprawling two-story 1900s farmhouse with its wraparound porch and old tin roof. At one time, Forrest Hanoverians claimed over a hundred acres and were renowned for the quality of their Hanoverian breeding program. Over the years, Aunt Gerri had sold off much of the farm’s land until only the central twenty acres of the farm remained.
Dylan parked his car in the circle driveway in front of the house. Aunt Gerri swung open the front door and waved at him.
“I was just getting ready to play the organ, when I saw you coming up the driveway!” Aunt Gerri called to him from the door. Just shy of her eighty-third birthday, Geraldine Forrest was a petite woman with intelligent bright blue eyes, a steel-trap memory and a kind-hearted disposition. Dylan always marveled at her energy; she kept herself busy going to garage sales, playing the organ at her church and socializing with her long list of friends.
“How are you, Aunt Gerri?” Dylan walked up the porch steps.
“Well...I’ll tell you...I’m fit as a fiddle.” Aunt Gerri held out her arms to him. “Oh! I’m so happy to see you!”
“I’m glad to see you, too, Aunt Gerri.” Dylan hugged her and kissed her on the cheek.
“Okay...so let’s go inside.” Aunt Gerri turned to head back into the house. “You’ll have to shut the door real hard—it’s been sticking lately.”
Dylan ran his hand up the edge of the door. “I’ll fix it for you before I leave.”
“Oh! Would you?” Aunt Gerri beamed. “That would be such a big help. I was finally going to break down and call someone about it tomorrow. You’ll be saving me the trouble. Do you want coffee?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” Dylan stopped to straighten a picture of Uncle Bill hanging in the foyer. After his mom died, this became his permanent home. Uncle Bill and Aunt Gerri took him and raised him. This house, with its creaky wide-planked wooden floors and thick crown molding, was his home. It was the one place that never really changed. The one thing he could always count on, especially when something significant happened in his life.
“Let’s go to the sitting room, then. I want to show you my brand-new organ.” Aunt Gerri headed into the large room to the left of the foyer.
“It’s a Lowrey Holiday Classic...” Aunt Gerri stood proudly by her organ. “I just traded my old one in. This is my seventh organ and this’ll probably be the last one I buy...”
Dylan sat down in his grandmother’s rocking chair. “It’s nice. I like it.”
“I’ll be sure to play it for you before you go.” Aunt Gerri settled herself in another rocking chair. “So...” Her sharp blue eyes were curious. “What’s the news?”
“Can’t I visit you without being accused of having an ulterior motive?”
“Oh, I think I know you pretty well,” Aunt Gerri said. “There’s gotta be something real important going on to bring you all the way out here on a business day.”
“You’ve always had my number ever since I was a kid.” Dylan fiddled with the loose rocking-chair arm before he looked back at his aunt. “And you’re right. There is something I need to tell you.”
“Well, go on and tell me what it is so we can talk it out.”
“I found out a couple of weeks ago that I have...a daughter.” Dylan watched his aunt’s face to gauge her reaction. “Her name is Hope. She’s ten.”
“Did you just say you’ve got a daughter?” Aunt Gerri stopped rocking. “Who’s the mother?”
For the next half hour, Dylan talked and his aunt listened. He told his aunt about the first time he’d ever seen Hope at the barn and he recounted his recent conversation with Mackenzie. Like a confession, he didn’t leave anything out. Not even the fact that he hadn’t been sober the night Hope had been conceived or the fact that he had never dated Mackenzie. And when he was done, he felt as if a weight had been lifted. Now that Aunt Gerri knew about Hope, it was real. No matter what happened, no matter how tough it got, there was no going back.
When he had said his piece, Aunt Gerri thought a bit before she spoke. She rocked back and forth, mulling things over.
“Now that I think about it, I remember Mackenzie. She was a heavyset girl, wasn’t she? But she had beautiful blue eyes.”
Dylan nodded. “She still does.”
Violet eyes.
“She was such a sweet little girl,” his aunt said. “But so serious.”
“She still is.”
“Well...what does she want from you, Dylan? What does she expect?”
“She wants me to spend time with Hope. That’s all. She doesn’t want money...”
“Not even for the medical bills? Good gracious, cancer treatment can’t be cheap.” Aunt Gerri had always held the purse strings for the farm.
“I know,” Dylan responded to his aunt’s skeptical expression. “I thought it was strange, too. But she was adamant about the money. More than that, she doesn’t want me to be a parent to Hope, either.”
Aunt Gerri frowned. “But is that what you want? You’re the child’s father.”
“Honestly, Aunt Gerri? I have no idea what I want.”
“Well...I suppose that’s where you need to start then, don’t you? If you don’t know what you want, how in the world can you figure out what you’re going to do?”
* * *
Hope had picked Pegasus as their first father-and-daughter day. It seemed like a better idea than a restaurant, and he wanted Hope to feel comfortable, so he had agreed. Now that he was here, he started to doubt the soundness of that decision. Perhaps they should have met in private, at his house, before they went public. Dylan parked his car next to Mackenzie’s Chevy and shut off the engine. Instead of getting out, he stayed in the car. He’d never felt capable of having a panic attack until today. His heart was racing, his mouth was dry and beads of sweat were trickling down the side of his face. He was a mess. The thought of spending the day with Hope made him feel panicked. He had absolutely no idea what to say to a ten-year-old girl; ten-year-old girls hadn’t exactly been his target demographic.
“Quit being a coward,” Dylan said to himself. “And get out of the stupid car.”
After convincing himself to leave the car, Dylan headed to the office. Lucky for him, Aggie was the only one there.
She greeted him with a broad smile and a loud, booming voice. “I heard you were comin’ out to lend us a hand today!”
Aggie stomped over to him in her crusty, knee-high black rubber boots and pumped his hand a couple of times. “Come on over here and take a