Shameless (46 page)

“What?”

“If he wasn’t, I’d beat the crap out of him for putting fear and doubt in a young boy’s vulnerable mind— in
your
mind, John.” She met his eyes. “He may not have believed in you, he may have led you not to believe in yourself, but
I
do.”

“Sam.”

“No. You need to hear this.” Her lips trembled and she pulled Danielle closer to her body. The baby whimpered softly. Sam stroked the tiny head. “I’m not like those other weak-willed, spineless women you married. I trust you and believe in you, John Everest. I will love you forever and won’t ever give up on you.” She sniffled. “You hear me? Not ever.”

No, that didn’t just about kill him. He closed his eyes a moment to collect what semblance of control he had remaining. “You going to be okay?”

She nodded. “I’m always okay.” The strong words conflicted with the shaky way they were delivered. “I’ll make you a deal,” she said, her voice wavering. “Rock, scissors, paper. If I win, you have to stay with us forever. If
you
win, then—” Her words caught and she bit her lip.

“Sam, I always win that game.” He was dying inside.

Tears slid down her face, falling onto Danielle’s blanket, making dark pink splotches on the pink material. “I know.”

Chapter 26

A freezing wind buffeted John as hurried across the mall parking lot. A greeter from the Salvation Army rang a tiny bell at the entrance. Despite his bah-humbug mood, John shoved a few dollars into the money pot.

“Thank you, sir. And Merry Christmas.”

Bite me
. John stormed through the revolving doors. Warmth enveloped him and he loosened his jacket. A sign hanging from the ceiling gaily proclaimed,
Seventeen shopping days until Christmas
. Less than three weeks until the happy day and he hadn’t done a stitch of shopping, nor had he bought a tree or hung lights. What was the point? In the space of a little over a month, he’d lost everything that gave meaning to his life. First Brian, then Sam, and most recently, little Danielle. If it were up to him, he’d forgo Christmas altogether this year. No, he’d cancel it for the next fifty years or until he was dead, whichever came first. But… his niece and nephew were counting the days. He’d last seen them at Thanksgiving and they’d bombarded him with requests for presents.

Anxious to get his business taken care of as quickly as possible, before all the nauseatingly cheery decorations choked him, he headed for Nordstrom. His niece was a pre-teen and cool clothes were her life, according to his sister-in-law. And his four-year-old nephew wore out clothes faster than a baby went through diapers. Nordstrom should have most everything on his list, then he could get the hell out of there.

He passed the Santa Claus display with the long line of fidgety kids waiting to get their pictures taken with the loser in the red costume. When the fat guy boomed, “Ho, ho, ho,” to the audience, John wanted to deck him.

Reaching Nordstrom, he asked one of the perfume girls for directions to the kids’ department. Completely ignoring her efforts to flirt with him, he headed for the escalator. Getting off on the third floor, he reached into his back pocket for Harlan and Tori’s wish list. He stopped in the center of the aisle, scanning the area. His eyes lit upon the infant section beside him. He stood just inches away from a rack filled with frilly dresses in happy shades of pastel. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and fingered one of the tiny dresses. The soft material snagged on the roughness of his hands. He rubbed his fingers across the lace. The delicate pattern seemed so fragile. He let out a loud, uneven breath as Danielle’s image appeared in his mind. Life was fragile.

As he let go of the dress, the tag slid over the back of his hand. It read “newborn.” A wave of sadness and wanting washed over him as he recalled his sister-in-law telling him how quickly babies outgrew clothes.

Sam had texted him that Danielle was doing fine and would be released from the hospital soon. It had been his only contact with Sam since that gut-wrenching night in the NICU two weeks ago. How much had the tiny girl grown since then? Would she have outgrown these newborn sizes by now? He sorted through the dresses until he found one that said it fit 0-3 months. It, too, seemed exceedingly small. How long before she’d outgrow this?

The urge to bawl his eyes out hit him like a fist in the solar plexus. He didn’t want to miss seeing her outgrow any more sizes. All his worries and fears suddenly seemed so trivial, so meaningless. Sam was right. His dad had been a mean old man, and to let such a person’s words continue to rule his life was nothing short of stupid. If Sam trusted and believed in him, maybe he had to trust and believe in her.

“Can I help you find something?” asked a pleasant voice near his shoulder. He looked into the warm brown eyes of a middle-aged sales clerk.

He shook his head, but he said, “Yes.”

“Who are you shopping for?” the clerk asked.

Love swelled his heart and he wanted to shout for joy. “My daughter.”

“No way. Absolutely not,” Sam told her boss over the phone.

“I need you on this, Rossi. As you well know, we’re big sponsors of the Extravaganza. We have to have someone there to cover it.”

“Why me?”

“Because everyone else is busy. Bonnie Baldwin was supposed to cover it but she’s out with the flu. You told me to call you if we got into a bind.”

Sam closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the wall of her kitchen. “This is a bad weekend, Oz. Danielle is coming home Sunday and I have a ton to do to get ready for her, plus I’d wanted to spend the tomorrow with her at the hospital.”

“It’s just a couple hours out of your day. You can figure it out.”

“Please, Oz. I can’t handle this right now.” The memories would be too painful.

“Sam, I hate to pull rank on you, but I’ve gone above and beyond in helping you out lately. I could have nixed your request to work from home after you return from maternity leave. I’ve also been open to your suggestion to cover primarily feature articles, even though you’re my top sports reporter.”

Yes, he had been great about that, she agreed silently.

“I’d hate for you to return to work in a few weeks to find that situation will no longer work out. I’d really hate to see that.”

Sam was stunned. He was blackmailing her. If she didn’t do this stupid story, she’d lose her dream job of being able to work at home alongside Danielle. She blinked back tears. Oz knew exactly why she was reluctant to cover this story. Apparently he had a smaller heart than she’d thought.

“Fine. You’ll get your story.” And
she’d
start looking for a new job Monday.

She put it off as long as she could. From the sounds on the other side of the door, she could tell the show was getting underway.
Quit being a baby and do your job
.

Taking a gulp of courage in the form of a deep breath, she pushed through the double doors and entered the auditorium. She found a spot next to the other journalists in the back and pulled a narrow notebook from her purse. She jotted notes about the surroundings, the decorations, the general ambiance. Finally, she glanced at the stage. Same setup as last year. Potted palms at the corners, metal stools lined across the stage with their bachelor occupants perched atop, adoring female audience frothing at the mouth for a chance at those men. She still found it distasteful.

Her gaze scanned the bachelors, taking notes of their names, occupations and any other interesting information as Adele Bartholemew, same emcee as last year, introduced the men. Sam sighed. She could have done the story without coming here. Everything was the same, right down to—

She gasped.

Right down to John. Oh, God. He was Bachelor Number 8.

Her breathing shallowed. She was going to hyperventilate. He’d obviously gotten over her since he was putting himself “out there” again, charity be damned. How could he? How
could
he? She looked around for a hiding place or a big person to hide behind.

She barely paid attention as each bachelor was introduced and told a little about himself. Until the microphone was put in front of John. Adele told the audience about his health clubs, his work with the kids, then she asked him the big question: “What are you looking for in a woman?”

“I want to find someone to settle down with. Someone who likes to laugh and have a good time. Someone who likes old movies. But most important, someone who loves kids just as much as I do.”

“You want kids, John?” asked Adele, sticking the mike in his face.

He nodded. “Desperately.”

Sam was going to throw up. He’d told her he couldn’t stay with her because he didn’t want kids, but what he’d really meant, obviously, was that he didn’t want her and Danielle. She blinked back stinging tears. Needing to get out of here, to hell with her job, she scooted toward the doors, but Adele’s next words gave her pause.

“Okay, ladies. Just to be different this year, we’re going to start at this end with Bachelor Number 8.” She waited for the applause to die, then said, “John? Will you pick from the hat or directly from the audience?”

“I’m not interested in the hat, Adele.”

Cocky son-of-a-bitch. Sam closed her eyes and told herself to leave
now
. But she was apparently a glutton for punishment because she really wanted to see what kind of woman John was interested in, what kind of woman he wanted to have babies with.

He rose from his stool. “I see someone in the audience I’d like to meet.” The audience cheered in anticipation.

Sam scanned the crowd, trying to find someone there he might be interested in, all the while her heart broke into tinier and tinier pieces.

“In fact, Adele,” John continued in a confident voice, “I see someone in your audience I’d like to marry.” Giggles and
oohs
erupted from the crowd.

Oh, God. Oh, God. This was too much. He was a total creep. Marry.
Marry
? She was out of here. The exit, her escape and salvation, was only feet away, but the closer she got to it the farther away it seemed, like that crazy dream when you’re running down a long hallway toward the door that somehow stays just a step ahead of you.

“She’s not actually a ticket holder, but we didn’t let that stop us last year… did we, Samantha?”

What
? Sam froze, afraid to turn around, afraid her heartbroken soul played tricks on her. Praying this wasn’t just a dream, she turned. John wove through the crowd of tables, toward her. His expression wasn’t as confident as his words had suggested.

Blinking a few times, she stepped toward him, uncertain this was really happening. Afraid to believe. When they were a couple of feet apart, they stopped.

“Am I dreaming?” she asked.

His answering smile was tender. “If you are, I’m having the same dream.”

Tears fell onto her cheeks, blurring him. “Was Oz in on this?”

He nodded. “And Adele.”

“You jerk. I really thought that you—” Her voice caught and she cleared her throat. “You— you really want to marry me? Me and Danielle?” She was oblivious to the crowd surrounding them.