Rachel Gibson - Any Man of Mine

She walked into the Rainier Room and toward the four-tier red velvet cake. She had her own life, and except for Conner, her life had nothing to do with Sam LeClaire.

Any Man of Mine:

Likes Children

Autumn pulled her Subaru Outback into her garage a little after midnight. She’d stayed at the Rainier Club until the last vendor had packed up, and she’d written a final check to the band.

She grabbed her tote bag off the passenger seat and made her way into the lower level of the house. She’d purchased the split-level in Kirkland a year ago because it was on a quiet cul-de-sac and had a huge, fenced backyard that bordered dense forest. For the past three years, she’d saved a portion of Conner’s child support and paid cash for the home. She needed that kind of security. That kind of stability. She needed to know that no matter what happened with her job or with Sam, she would always have a home for Conner.

The house certainly wasn’t lavish by any means. It had been built in the late seventies and, while it did have new paint and appliances, it needed some work. The previous owner had been mad for wallpaper with flower borders, wood paneling, and faux bricks. It all had to be taken down, but unfortunately Autumn didn’t have a lot of time to take care of it, and remodeling the house got pushed farther down the to-do list. Vince said he’d help her, but he didn’t have a lot of time either.

In the family room, the overhead light burned, and the television blasted the Discovery Channel. Her tote pulled one shoulder lower than the other as she stepped over a Nerf Recon Blaster and a green plastic golf bag filled with two plastic clubs. She shut off the TV and checked the wooden dowel in the sliding glass door before hitting the light switch.

The blaster was the latest toy Vince had bought for Conner. It was Vince’s opinion that Conner spent too much time with girls and needed a manly influence and manly toys. Autumn thought Vince was ridiculous-but whatever. Conner loved Vince and loved to spend time with him. God knew he spent little enough time with his own father.

In the quiet of the house, the stairs creaked beneath her feet. Normally, she liked peace and quiet. She liked those few hours of calm after she put Conner to bed. She liked having that time to herself. When she didn’t have to work or make dinner or keep one step ahead of her five-year-old. She liked reading a magazine while soaking in the tub, but she didn’t like Conner not being there at all. Even after these past several years when he’d had overnight visitations with his dad, she still got a bit anxious knowing her baby wasn’t in his bed.

She moved across the dark living room and into the lighted kitchen. She set her tote on the table, then opened the refrigerator and grabbed some string cheese. On the outside of the refrigerator door, Conner had spelled out “hi mommy” in alphabet magnets, and he’d tacked up a new picture he’d obviously drawn while she’d been at work. In crayon, he’d drawn a figure with a red ponytail and green eyes, one arm longer than the other and holding the hand of a smaller figure with yellow hair and a big smile. He’d drawn a bright tangerine sun and green grass. Off to one side he’d drawn another figure with long legs and yellow hair.

Sam.

Autumn opened the cheese and threw away the wrapper. She pulled a long string and took a bite. For the past few months, Conner had started to randomly include Sam in his family pictures, but always off to one side. Which, Autumn supposed, was a true representation of his relationship with his dad. Random. Off to one side.

She grabbed a glass from the cupboard and poured filtered water into it. Seeing Sam that night, it was hard to remember what she’d found so fascinating about him. Oh, he was still gorgeous and rich and as magnetic as ever. He was big and muscular and larger than life, but she wasn’t the fool at thirty that she’d been at twenty-five.

She raised the glass to her lips and took a drink. It was embarrassing to admit, even to herself, that she’d ever been that big a fool, but she had been. She’d married Sam after knowing him a total of five days because she’d fallen madly, desperately, in love with him. It had been foolish but had felt so real.

She stared at her reflection in the window above the sink and lowered the glass. When she looked back on that time in her life, it was difficult to believe she’d actually felt those things. That she’d married a man she’d known for so short a time. Difficult to believe her heart had turned so soft and squishy at the sight of him. Difficult to believe she’d fallen so fast and hard. Difficult to believe she’d been a woman who would do something so impulsive.

Perhaps it had happened because she’d been at a real low point in her life. Her mother had died of colon cancer a few short months before that fateful trip. Vince had been in the Navy-off doing his scary SEAL stuff. And for the first time in two years, she hadn’t had anyone to take care of but herself. She hadn’t had to run anyone to doctor appointments or to chemo or radiation therapies.

After the funeral, after she’d packed up her mother’s life in boxes for storage, there’d been nothing left for her to do, and for the first time in her life, she’d felt alone. For the first time, she’d been alone-alone with only two things to check off her long to-do list. Sell the house and go to Vegas for an overdue break.

She would like to think she married Sam because she’d been lonely. That she’d had too much to drink and been stupid. Which was true. She had been alone and drunk and stupid, but she’d married Sam because she’d fallen head over heels, madly in love with him. It was embarrassing to admit, even now, how quick and hard she’d fallen.

But he hadn’t loved her. He’d married her like it was joke. He’d left her like she meant nothing. Less than nothing. He’d left her without looking back.

She set the glass in the sink, the sound of the glass against porcelain echoed in the empty house. He’d left her devastated and confused and with a lot of other emotions. She’d arrived in Vegas alone. She’d left married and alone. She’d been alone and scared when she’d taken her first pregnancy test. Alone and scared when she’d felt the first gossamer flutter of her baby in her womb, and the first time she’d heard Conner’s heartbeat. She’d been alone and scared when she’d discovered she was having a boy, and she’d been alone and scared when she’d delivered Conner with no one in the room but a doctor and two nurses.

A week after Conner’s birth, she’d called Sam’s lawyer and informed him that Sam had a son. A few days later, Conner had been given a paternity test, and a week later, Sam had seen his baby for the first time.

She turned off the kitchen light and moved down the hall. Autumn no longer felt alone and scared, but it had taken her a few years to stitch together a life from the shattered pieces. To make a secure place for Conner to live and forge a protective shield around her heart.

There was a part of her that wished she’d kept Conner a secret from Sam. A part of her that wanted to keep Conner to herself. A part of her that didn’t think Sam was worthy of her beautiful boy, but she knew that it was best for Conner to know his father. Autumn had hardly known her father, and she knew from experience it was best that Conner grew up having Sam in his life. Even if Autumn didn’t approve of him or his lifestyle, Sam was Conner’s father, and that was that.

She paused by Conner’s bedroom door and looked at the empty bed. His Barney pillow lay on the Barney quilt she’d made him, and her heart squeezed a little. Conner should be in his bed, hugging his Barney pillow. Sam didn’t deserve Conner. She’d seen him leave the Rainier Club with a group of his hockey buddies and the playmates. A child didn’t fit in with Sam’s lifestyle. He was an athlete, a playboy, and he was no doubt spending the night somewhere with one of those Playmates. Heck, he was probably spending the night with more than one while Autumn went to bed alone.