Janice Johnson - From Father to Son

But rebellion immediately sparked in her. Was it so bad to want to make the house totally hers and Anna’s and Desmond’s?

Was it so bad to wish she could she could restrict their contact with the kids to an occasional outing and too many packages under the tree on Christmas morning?

Rowan didn’t know whether to hope that Anna would sleep for a long time and they would give up and go away, or that she’d wake up and give them a grandchild fix. She had a gift for softening them both. Rowan worried more about Des, who they seemed determined to correct and mold, chide and stifle. More than Anna, he was slated as the replacement for their son. In the last year, he’d gone from being happy to see Grandma and Grandpa to shutting down and getting quiet in their presence. It infuriated her that her confident, bright, happy kid had to feel that way. Even if she’d loved living with Donna and Glenn, she’d have moved out at the first opportunity for Desmond’s sake.

“Why don’t I come in and help pour that lemonade?” Donna said. “And I can take a peek to see what you’ve done to the house. I’ll be quiet, but you know dear Anna wouldn’t want to miss our visit!”

How could she say no, even though her mother-in-law didn’t know how to keep her voice low? Even though it meant hearing again that Donna didn’t understand how Rowan could possibly want to live in a place that was so dark and dingy. Why, it wasn’t fair to the children, when they’d had such a nice room at Grandma and Grandpa’s.

If only Drew and she hadn’t both grown up in Stimson. If only Gran had left her a house somewhere else, far, far away.

Minneapolis, she thought wistfully. Florida. Anywhere at all but here.

CHAPTER THREE

NIALL GROANED AND PULLED his pillow over his head. It muffled the far-off wails, but didn’t entirely mute them.

What the hell was wrong with that little girl, and why wasn’t her mother fixing her? The kid had been squalling for half an hour or more, and it was three o’clock in the morning. She’d probably awakened the entire neighborhood. He knew exactly when she’d started, because her first screams had inserted themselves neatly into his recurring nightmare about the toddler with the dandelion puff of hair soaked with blood.

Okay, he hadn’t minded that she’d woken him up. If only she hadn’t kept crying and crying and crying.

He should get up and close the window. He could turn a fan on instead. Bonus: it would provide white noise to block those pitiful sobs.

With another groan, he cast aside the pillow, got up and pulled on the pair of jeans he’d discarded on a chair. Not bothering with a light, he chose a T-shirt by touch, then fumbled his way from the bedroom. Outside, he saw that several lights were on in the main house. Good to know. At least Mom wasn’t such a heavy sleeper she’d been ignoring the poor kid.

He rapped lightly on Rowan’s back door, bewildered by why he was doing so. What could he do?

Through the glass inset, he saw her approach, her expression wary until she snapped on the outside light and recognized him. Anna clung to her like a monkey, legs wrapped around her mother’s waist, arms probably choking her.

As Rowan opened the door, Anna’s sobs quieted to hiccuping breaths as she turned a wet, hectically flushed face to Niall.

“I’m so sorry.” Rowan looked distraught. “I should have made up my mind sooner what to do, before she woke you up.”

Anna’s face crumpled. “What’s wrong?” Niall said hastily.

“She has an ear infection. I’ll have to get Desmond up…”

“He’s sleeping?” he asked in disbelief.

She made a face. “Trying. We need to go to Emergency.”

“You’d better get dressed.” He was having to raise his voice to be heard above the renewed sobs.

“Yes.” She looked hopeful. “I don’t suppose you’d hold her?”

Oh, man. Why hadn’t he stayed in bed?

He’d been trying not to notice that she wore only a T-shirt that reached midthigh. It had a cartoon character on the front, faded by frequent washings. The thin cotton knit fabric clung to her body. Her daughter’s legs, clamped around her, had pulled the hem up almost high enough for him to see whether she wore panties beneath it or not. The speculation was enough for his body to harden despite the squalling kid.

“Uh…sure. If she’ll come to me.” He hesitated, cursing the common decency that had gotten him out of bed and over here in the first place. “Do you want me to stay with Desmond? Or…” He looked at the hysterical little girl. Despite deep reluctance, he said, “Maybe I should come with you. Drive, so you can concentrate on Anna.”

“Do you mean that?” Rowan’s eyes welled with tears.

Hell. Now she was crying, too.

“Of course I do. If it would help.” He found himself holding out his arms and hoping the little girl would go into them, even though normally he would consider that a fate worse than death. “Go on. Get dressed.”

With an especially piercing sob, Anna catapulted herself at Niall. She latched on tight, buried her face against his neck and cried. The rhythmic sobs reminded him unpleasantly of a siren he longed to turn off. Rowan gave him one fraught look, then fled.

Feeling way out of his depth, he bounced the girl a little. “Hey, hey. I know you hurt. We’ll get you all better before you know it. Come on, honey.” He began to walk. He’d heard new fathers talk about walking the baby endlessly. Maybe it would work here, too. “Crying doesn’t help. I think it’s making you feel worse.”

She wasn’t impressed by the argument. She continued to sob, he continued to walk and hold that small, hot body close. It seemed like forever but was probably less than five minutes before Rowan reappeared, dressed in a haphazard way, Desmond at her side. Niall had wondered where Sam the dog was; he hadn’t showed himself when Niall crossed the yard or entered the house. Now he peered cautiously around the door frame but didn’t come any closer.

Smarter than they’d given him credit for, maybe.

They took Rowan’s car since the kids’ safety seats were already in it. Niall drove while she sat in back between them. In his desperation, he exceeded a few speed limits and rocketed to the load/unload zone in front of the emergency entrance at the hospital.

“You take Anna,” he suggested. Please. Please take Anna. “Desmond and I’ll follow you once I park.”

“Thank you.” Rowan clambered over her daughter, unbuckled her and carried her into the maws of the hospital. Niall and Desmond sat without moving or speaking for a moment in the absence of sound. Niall didn’t know about the kid’s eardrums, but his were ringing.

“She gets lots of ear infections,” the boy finally said, matter-of-factly.

“Does she.” Niall gave his head a shake and put the car back into Drive. Maybe he and Desmond could walk really slowly.

Would the doctor only give her antibiotics, or would they be able to do something to take her pain away? A shot of morphine, maybe?

Desmond was able to unbuckle his own seat belt. However, when Niall circled the car to him, he said, “Can you tie my shoes? I can’t see.”

“Sure.” Did he know how to tie them? Niall didn’t remember how old kids usually were when they learned. Sure enough, when he knelt on the pavement he found the laces straggling. He could feel a bony ankle, too; no socks.

Tying this little boy’s shoelaces, Niall had a feeling of unreality. What was he doing here? How had this happened? Why hadn’t he stayed in bed?

I don’t get involved, he thought desperately, but here he was. No. He wasn’t involved, for God’s sake, he was only giving an hour or two to help out a young mother. And it didn’t hurt to stay on his landlady’s good side, right?