“Um, Kate’s three. She’ll turn four in the summer.”
Had Patrick just winced? Was Kate what this cool reception was all about? Figured. He’d been nice enough at the clinic when he hadn’t known she had a kid, but the minute he saw a child, he was like every other guy she’d dated since Marty.
Maybe she should save herself a lot of time and trouble and have single mom tattooed on her forehead. At least then she wouldn’t have to endure a guy’s hot and cold reactions.
“Mommy,” Kate whimpered. “I’m hungry. Please?”
“Hey, why don’t you guys eat with us. Does fried chicken, tossed salad, butter beans, cream corn and rolls sound good?” Lissa rubbed her hands together. “Dad was just saying we had plenty.”
CHAPTER FOUR
F OR THE LIFE OF HER , Dana couldn’t figure out how she came to be sitting at a dinner table with Patrick and his two daughters, one of whom was staring daggers at her.
She cast a glance at Kate, who was eating up Lissa’s attention. Usually, Kate was shy and hesitant with strangers, but not with Lissa. Lissa had her in giggles within seconds—and the fried chicken on Kate’s plate had sealed the deal.
At least one daughter was kid friendly.
The jury was still out on Patrick. After Lissa’s off-the-cuff invitation, he’d heartily agreed. Yes, absolutely, she must join them.
She’d overheard Melanie hiss, “But, Dad! This is your birthday supper!” and Dana had tried to leave then. Patrick wouldn’t hear of it.
“No, no, it’s fine. This is no big deal. Only supper and a cake. You like cake, don’t you? Melanie makes a mean coconut cake.”
The tension at the table dissipated as Patrick shook out his napkin and passed around the platter of chicken. “I was just telling the girls about my two wannabe professional wrestlers this morning. How’d they do, anyway?”
“I didn’t hear a peep out of them all day long, so I guess they must have survived.” Dana took a piece of chicken and handed the platter to Melanie. “This looks great!”
“Lissa fried it. I hope you can eat it.” If Dana was reading Melanie’s underlying sentiment correctly, the truer words would have been, I hope you get an ulcer .
But Dana just ignored Melanie’s remark and switched her praise to Lissa. “You’re a better cook than me. I never fool with frying chicken.”
“My mom is the best cook, and we do a lot of cooking together,” Lissa told her.
Dana recalled Suze’s allusions to Patrick’s divorced status and wasn’t sure what to say. She mumbled, “That’s nice.”
On the heels of that awkward moment came another when Lissa skewered her with blue eyes alight with curiosity. “So are you and Dad seeing each other?”
Dana dropped the piece of chicken she held and Patrick choked on butter beans he was eating.
“Uh, no, actually, we’re not. I met your father for the first time today.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” Lissa beamed. “I just figured, you know, you calling, looking for him on his birthday—you know.”
Dana picked up the drumstick with numb fingers. “No. No. Remember? I mentioned on the phone that this had to do with the clinic at school.”
Melanie seemed to relax a bit then. Dana wondered if perhaps Melanie’s earlier reaction derived from the same wrong conclusion Lissa had jumped to.
“I like this corn, Mommy! Why doesn’t our corn taste this way?”
“I don’t know, sweetheart.” Dana felt her cheeks heat up. She chuckled and said to Patrick and his daughters, “I did say I wasn’t much of a cook.”
“Kate, it’s probably because we grew this corn ourselves,” Patrick offered.
Kate frowned. “My mommy buys corn in cans.”
Lissa laughed; Melanie managed a subdued chuckle and Dana cringed. At least Kate’s confession indicated Dana attempted to cook. If Kate kept going, she’d probably tell them just how many trips to the McDonald’s drive-thru she and Kate made.
Patrick nodded to Kate. “Well, yeah, I guess she does. That’s what a lot of people do. But we grow it.” He turned to Dana. “My older sister and her husband live out in the country and we grow a big garden together.”
“That’s very nice.”
“You have brothers or sisters?”
“Two sisters. I’m in the middle.”
“Are they as tall as you?” Lissa asked.
Melanie again shot daggers, but now at her little sister. Dana smothered a laugh, remembering how many times her older sister had tried—and failed—to keep her straight.
“Uh, no. My older sister is a little above average height, and my younger one is on the petite side. She likes to say she’s vertically challenged.”
“Oh, that’s like my aunt. She always says—”
“Lissa, can you get us some more ice?” Melanie broke in. “Dana’s glass needs refreshing.”
The interruption caught Dana by surprise. What had that been all about?
But Lissa shoved back her chair with an under-the-breath mumble about bossy older sisters and Patrick interjected a question about where Dana had found a place to live, and she pushed aside her curiosity and answered his question.
The rest of the meal went smoothly enough. Civil, polite on Melanie and Patrick’s part; effusively warm on Lissa’s part. Dana had to admit that Lissa was a sheer wonder with Kate, and acknowledged it was great to have a meal where she had some help retrieving dropped spoons and napkins, cutting up the food into bite-size pieces, making a quick save of a toppling glass. Lissa was a natural.
When Dana remarked on it, Lissa told her, “I like kids, especially this age. I babysit a lot during the summer, and I have a little brother. He’s six now, but you know, my mom needed help. I’m going to school to be a nurse, and I hope I get to work with pedes.”
“Oh. I see. You’ll be good at it.”
Lissa beamed. “If you ever need somebody to watch Kate, I’ll be glad to do it. I’ve got excellent references.”
Dana grinned. Had Lissa’s motivation simply been to drum up business? If so, the gambit had been an effective one. “I don’t get out much, but I’ll keep you in mind.”
Not until the lighting of Patrick’s birthday cake did Dana find herself feeling awkward and in the way. Melanie brought in the cake, aglow with too many candles for Dana to count, though she did try to figure out Patrick’s age.
Then Lissa started singing “Happy Birthday” in a clear, beautiful alto and urged everyone to join in. Kate sang along without any prompting, but Dana hesitated. She felt shy and uncertain about singing “Happy Birthday” to a man she’d only just met.
Her eyes searched out cues from Melanie and Lissa and then finally Patrick. His gaze wasn’t on his daughters or the cake. It was locked on Kate as she lisped out the song. His jaw was set, his lips compressed.
The Patrick Connor she’d seen earlier in the day had vanished. Whatever interest he’d shown in Dana had vanished, as well.
She’d encountered that reaction too many times not to know it for what it was. The first time was the day she’d told Marty she was pregnant. His face had gone from happy anticipation at the prospect of big news to complete and utter gray-white shock when he learned what that news was.
Marty