“Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick!”
Vivian laughed as young Brody, Slade’s adopted four-year-old son, launched himself into Nick’s arms. In Brody’s exuberance, he overshot his mark and nearly barreled into Vivian.
Her pulse jumped up and she placed a protective hand over her middle. It was only Nick’s quick reflexes that kept her from being wrestled right off the park bench.
Nick leaned in to catch Brody, swinging him into the air and wiggling him until he giggled in delight. The black-and-white-spotted ball the boy had been holding dropped to the ground, unnoticed.
“Look where you’re going, little dude,” Nick said, setting the boy on his feet again. “You nearly knocked over this pretty young lady here.”
Vivian’s heart skipped a beat. Did he really think she was pretty? Did that mean he didn’t see her as damaged or flawed, even after all she’d just told him?
“It’s nothing,” she assured them.
“Yes, it is,” Nick contended. “In the McKenna family little men learn to be courteous to ladies. And that includes not knocking them off of park benches. Especially not women about to have a baby. We have to be extra respectful of them.”
Vivian had a sudden vision of being cradled in Nick’s arms the day she’d fallen over the drywall. He’d been so afraid she’d hurt herself. At the time all she could remember was feeling annoyed, but now the memory came along with sensory details, things she’d missed the first time.
The gentleness and worry lining his deep, rich voice. The scent of leather and spice that was uniquely Nick. The rippling of the muscles in his arms and chest. The way he carried her as if she weighed no more than a feather, even though her body had thickened with her unborn child.
“Brody, you have to treat girls with respect. You have to be nice to them.”
Brody made a face and reached for his ball. Evidently he wasn’t a big fan of girls yet.
“What do you say you apologize to Miss Vivian?” Nick gently took the boy’s shoulders and turned him toward her.
Little Brody’s head hung. He looked adorably contrite. “Sorry I almost hit you,” he muttered almost too quietly to hear.
“You are quite forgiven, sweetheart. No hard feelings, okay?” She reached out a hand to the boy and they shook on it.
Nick stole the ball from Brody’s grip. He hefted the ball back to Brody and grinned at Viv. “Do you mind if I play with my nephew for a few?”
“No, not at all. Take your time. After spending the whole morning with a mask over my face, I’m enjoying the fresh air. Have fun playing with your basketball.”
Brody crowed with laughter.
“It’s a soccer ball,” Nick corrected, one corner of his lips tugging up.
“You kick the ball, not bounce it,” Brody informed her in a solemn tone of voice.
“I apologize for my mistake,” Viv said with equal seriousness. “I’m a complete newbie where sports are concerned. I promise I will remember that fact for the next time I observe soccer.”
Nick winked at her and lobbed the ball out onto the green grass. Both Nick and Brody chased after it, hooting and hollering as they kicked it back and forth to each other.
Vivian waved to Laney, who was sitting under a shelter chatting with a group of women and then turned her attention back to the boys. She thought the game itself was as boring as watching oil dry. Kicking the ball back and forth, back and forth, with no end in sight. But she enjoyed watching Nick interact with his nephew.
Nick’s expression, usually so serious, relaxed, the hard ridges and lines of stress diminishing. Rich laughter bubbled from his chest as he feigned right, then left, and then let little Brody steal the ball away from him—all without letting the boy know that Nick was giving rather than taking.
She loved watching how Nick subtly raised the child’s confidence as he taught him how to move the ball—dribble…apparently the word was dribble—across the grass using only the insides of his feet.
Considering the fact that they’d both admonished her that soccer was all about kicking the ball, it seemed to her that they spent an awful lot of time bouncing the ball off of other body parts—in particular, their heads.
At one point, Nick even picked the ball off the ground and tossed it repeatedly at Brody so the boy could practice popping the ball into the air with his forehead.
What kind of barbarity was that? What was he trying to do? Give the poor little dude brain damage?
Men. And little men. It was easy for Vivian to believe they might well be an entirely different species. Would it be the same way with her son? How could she ever hope to keep up with Baby G if she didn’t understand the way he ticked?
If it was anybody but Nick, she would have worried about Brody getting hurt, but his affection for his nephew was obvious in Nick’s every move, head-bonking notwithstanding. His encouragement was visibly raising the boy’s confidence level in addition to his skill on the playing field.
And he thought he wasn’t cut out to be a family man? Anyone with eyes in their head could see how good he was with children. How could he not see that in himself?
Nick smiled and waved at her, and for the first time in her life, she wished she’d paid more attention to sports when she was in school so she could join Nick and Brody in their play. She’d attended a few games in high school, but she had always been too busy talking with her friends to pay any attention to what was happening on the field. And she’d hated phys ed.
Who would teach her son how to dribble a soccer ball, or even pop it off his forehead, though the thought made her cringe? She certainly wouldn’t be the one to do it.
Here she was, in a park full of happy, joy-filled adults and children, and she felt the most completely and utterly alone she’d ever been. Her baby’s future, his care and his happiness, all depended on her. She had no partner in life with whom to share both the blessings and the burdens of parenthood.
It was she and she alone.
How could she possibly teach her son all the things he’d need to know to grow into adulthood? How could she be both mother and father to him? She didn’t even know the difference between a basketball and a soccer ball, much less how to play the games. It was a silly thing, she knew, but at the moment it felt totally overwhelming.
She was long past being angry that Derrick had abandoned her, but she still couldn’t comprehend how he could possibly refuse to be a father to his own son, or even to acknowledge paternity.
Deep down, Viv knew that it was the best thing for both her and her child. What kind of father would Derrick have made anyway, moving in and out of their son’s life? He wouldn’t have given the baby any stability or security.
Not to mention, Derrick hadn’t treated her well, and she doubted he would have been any better with their baby. It was by God’s grace that she had gotten out of that toxic relationship and returned to Serendipity where she belonged. She couldn’t bear the thought of her precious baby exposed to that kind of abuse. But even though in her heart she knew it would have been detrimental to have had Derrick in their lives, it still didn’t seem fair that her child had to grow up in a single-parent household—especially hers.
She felt so completely inadequate for the task. A child deserved to grow up with a mother and a father.
In a perfect world.
She didn’t realize Nick and Brody had stopped kicking the ball around until Nick suddenly dropped onto the bench beside her, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. Sweat slicked his forehead and he used the bottom of his T-shirt to dab it away.
“Brody, you need to take it easy on your poor uncle Nick,” Nick said, grabbing the boy around the shoulders and tickling his belly. “I’m too old to keep up with you.”
Nick met Viv’s gaze and raised his eyebrows, clearly expecting a laugh. She really should be laughing.
Nick, an out-of-shape old man?
Laughable.
She managed to wrestle up a smile but couldn’t summon the mirth to go with it, even when Nick lagged his tongue out to the side and panted like a pooch.
“You goof,” she said, playfully shoving his shoulder. She appreciated what he was doing to get her out of her funk, even if it wasn’t working.
He narrowed his gaze on her and then reached out and gently caressed the line of her jaw. A million tiny electrical currents accompanied the slow path of his fingertips.
“You usually think so.” He leaned forward until his lips were mere centimeters from her ear. His warm breath fanned her cheeks, sending a shiver of awareness down her spine.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
“It’s nothing.” She nodded toward Brody.
“Right. Hey, dude, you’d better go check in with your mom.” He waved at Laney as Brody darted across the park to return to her side.
With Brody safe with Laney, Nick turned his full attention on Vivian. “Are you feeling all right? Is your morning sickness bothering you?”
Did she look nauseated? If she did, it was all Derrick’s fault. Just the thought of him was now enough to turn her stomach. But she was tired of thinking about him. He was no longer a part of her life and she didn’t want to waste any more brain cells or emotional energy wondering about him.
She placed a palm over her belly. She’d been feeling tiny little butterfly flutters for a couple of weeks now, but this time she felt definite movement under her hand.
She gasped.
Nick’s brow lowered. “Should I call 9-1-1?”
After all of the conflicting emotions she’d experienced over the past hour, the thought of Nick calling 9-1-1 because he thought she might be experiencing morning sickness was too much for her.
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, so she did both. She chuckled and hiccupped simultaneously and then tears of joy sprang to her eyes.
All of her anxiety dissipated. Her problems appeared minute compared to the magnitude of the joy of feeling new life moving within her.
She wasn’t alone. She carried Baby G under her heart. Soon she would be holding her precious newborn in her arms. There was nothing but God’s blessing in that.
And she had Nick hovering anxiously over her, looking as if he was about ready to jump out of his skin. It warmed her heart to see him act that way. Even though he had no vested interest in them, he was overtly protective of her and her baby.
“I just felt him move,” she explained, her voice cracking with emotion.
Nick’s large blue eyes filled with wonder.
“I’ve been feeling flutters for a couple of weeks now, but this is the first time I’ve felt a good, solid kick.”
Nick chuckled. “Baby G probably wanted to join Brody and me in our soccer game.”
“That must be it,” she agreed, joining in his laughter. “I guess I’d better start learning the rules of the game.
“Oh!” She reached for Nick’s hand and placed it on the side of her swollen belly. “There he is again. Can you feel him? I think it’s his heel.”
As if in answer to her question, the baby moved again. Vivian thought he might have done a full backflip this time, the little show-off.
Nick’s smile couldn’t have been any wider and his gaze shone with delight. “I did. I felt him move. It’s amazing. What a blessing you’ve got there.”
Her hand tightened over his and she swallowed hard against the tumult of emotions welling inside her.
Now that he’d gotten their attention, Baby G appeared to be doing gymnastics.
Nick chortled. “I think he’s showing off for his uncle Nick.”
Uncle Nick?
Her heart skipped and then charged into beating double-time.
Maybe her son would have a solid, trustworthy male role model in his life, after all. She’d assumed once the spa was finished, her association with Nick would end.
She was exhilarated to hear that she was wrong.
And if Nick intended to be involved with her baby—what did that mean for the two of them?
She was afraid to even begin to consider the implications, but they nonetheless nestled someplace deep in her heart.
She offered up a silent prayer. She wasn’t alone.
* * *
Though a manager had been hired in October and residents had been trickling in for weeks, Thanksgiving Day marked the official grand opening of Serendipity’s senior center. It seemed only right to celebrate such a momentous occasion on the day set aside for giving thanks.
Nick finished a family meal with his mother, Jax—along with his new fiancée, Faith, and his adorable, twin baby girls—and Slade and Laney with Brody. After a relaxed dinner filled with good food and great fellowship, Nick and his mother headed out to watch the town council cut the red ribbon and invite the public to see the results of their generosity at the auction.
As with the rest of his family, Nick was anxious to see how his uncle James was settling in to his new home.
But along with this successful grand opening, Nick was mulling over other plans, ones that had gone awry, not at all as hoped or expected. Despite the fact that he’d spent every spare minute at Viv’s shop, they hadn’t been able to open the doors to the salon and spa in time for the holidays the way she’d planned.
Vivian hadn’t said anything—she always kept her chin up and her attitude positive—but he knew the burden of stress she was shouldering, and it had to be overwhelming.
She was the bravest, most stalwart woman he’d ever known, but he worried about her, and he was concerned about the baby. Once the town had found out about her condition, his mother had encouraged him to watch over Vivian, informing him that undue stress could send a woman into premature labor. Nick wasn’t sure how he could help, other than to do what he was already doing—taking care of as many details regarding the spa as possible and surreptitiously trying to make sure she took care of herself.
He felt woefully inadequate. But what else was he supposed to do? Though she denied it, he knew it was more than just her business affairs that were bothering her. Ever since that day in the park, she’d been more withdrawn and introspective.
Something was different. Something had changed. He hoped it had nothing to do with this Derrick fellow, but he couldn’t be sure.
Unless she chose to open up to him and talk about her problems, he was powerless to help her.
He’d told her the truth about what had happened between him and Brittany and had come clean about the agenda he’d created after Vivian won him in the auction.
Had those confessions led to Viv having second thoughts about working with him? He wouldn’t be surprised. Why should she trust him, a man who had consistently proven himself untrustworthy? His past was catching up with him, rushing in on him, coloring his future.
Lord, make me a new man.
It was more than just changing his behavior. Change had to come from his heart. And, he acknowledged, as he watched old Frank Spencer, Jo’s husband and the president of the town council, cut the ribbon to the senior center, only God could transform a man’s heart and make the old man new again.
Nick prayed the Lord would bless him, that he would find the much longed-for peace, and that he could somehow then pass it on to Vivian and her baby.
He tucked his mother’s hand into the crook of his arm as the crowd jostled their way into the new center. The facility was set up into two wings—one side for active seniors who needed little more than an occasional check-in, while the other side was a long-term care ward which provided around-the-clock care for folks like Uncle James. At the hub of the two wards was the main office, the cafeteria and a large common area with two television sets and a variety of reading material and board games.
As they entered the center, Nick kept a discreet eye out for Vivian, but he didn’t see her anywhere, although her twin sister, Alexis, was hosting the bake sale.
“Do you want to go and see if we can find Uncle James?” Nick asked his mother.
Alice patted his shoulder. “You go on ahead, dear. I’ll catch up with you in a minute.”
A group of Alice’s friends from church were waving her over. His mom didn’t get out as much socially as she’d used to before Nick’s dad had died, but helping Jax with his twin babies had put a bit of a spring back into her step—as had the announcement of Jax’s engagement to Faith, who Alice doted on. Nick was glad to see she’d begun embracing life again and reconnecting with her friends.
Sometimes, like now, being a large man in a tight space with a lot of people was more of a detriment than a help, and it took him a while to make his way through the crowd to the corridor leading to the long-term care ward.
He wasn’t sure what kind of condition he’d find Uncle James in today. Some days the man was entirely lucid. On other days, he had no idea who Nick was, and even on occasion became frightened or aggressive in Nick’s presence.
His own father had been the same way near the end. Nick had never been entirely comfortable with Jenson’s illness, and deep down he wondered if that was part of the reason he hadn’t been there when his dad passed. Had he used the ranch to avoid emotions he’d rather not confront?
Nick wasn’t the same man now. He was committed to making regular visits to his uncle James, whether or not the man was aware he was there.
He was looking for his uncle’s apartment when he suddenly heard a soft, high tinkle of laughter coming from a nearby room. The sound reminded him of a fairy.
He knew that laugh.
He peeked into the room where he’d heard Viv’s laughter and stopped short, his breath catching in his throat.
She was sitting between two old ladies, and the three of them were chatting and giggling like schoolgirls. Nick didn’t think either of the women knew who Viv was—maybe they didn’t even know who they were, themselves. They both had dementia’s blank-eyed stare, and yet Vivian had them fully engaged as she painted their fingernails a glistening bright red.
Vivian didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable with the old women. Nick knew that in their minds, Vivian might be a long-lost daughter or granddaughter, or an old friend rather than just a kind stranger, but they were clearly enjoying her ministrations.
As Viv stretched the small of her back, she glanced up and met Nick’s gaze as he stood in the doorway. She extended her hand and her sunny smile to him.
“Well, don’t just stand there, Nick. Come on in and let me introduce you to these two lovely ladies. This is Opal,” she said, gesturing to the woman on the right. “And this is Marjorie. They share this suite.”
Nick grinned and tipped his hat to the ladies. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Nick here is doing all the carpentry on the beauty salon I’ve been telling you about. He’s doing a lovely job. I’m so pleased with the outcome.”
Pride swelled in Nick’s chest. He usually had women yelling at him, not praising him. It felt mighty fine.
Her kind words made him want to earn Vivian’s respect even more.
“Are you all related?” he asked.
“They’re sisters,” Viv answered. “But I’m no relation to them. I’m just floating around here today offering my services to all of the residents. Primping hair and painting fingernails and toenails for the ladies. Shaves and haircuts for any of the guys who want it.”
She gave him a once-over that made his nerves tingle. He didn’t like the look in her eye, nor the fact that she had shears and a razor in her apron.
“Your husband is a real looker.” Marjorie gestured toward Nick.
“Yes, but he’s unkempt,” Opal added frankly. “You really should do something about that hair, Viv.”
“Oh, I’m not—” Nick started to say, but Vivian cut him off with the briefest shake of her head.
She was right, of course. The women would probably just get confused if he tried to explain that he and Viv weren’t married. The old folks saw what they wanted to see.
“I know, right?” she said instead. “He won’t let me anywhere near him with a pair of scissors. I’m going to keep trying, though.”
Gathering her supplies, she kissed each of the ladies on the cheek and reached for Nick’s elbow, guiding him out of the room.
He stopped just outside the door.
“They thought we were—”
“I know,” she said, smothering a chuckle. “Can you imagine?”
Their eyes met and held, and for one moment, as he lost himself in the impossibly deep blue pools of her eyes, Nick could imagine. His pulse jolted to life and his gaze dropped to her lips.
She laughed nervously and turned away from him, gesturing to a room across the hallway.
“Were you looking for your uncle? I believe that’s his apartment over there.”
It took Nick a beat to regroup. He glanced at the door number and nodded. “Yep. That’s him.”
“Does he need his hair cut, do you think?”
“I doubt it. He usually keeps his hair shaved into a buzz cut.”
She produced a pair of shears from her apron pocket and waved them at him in mock menace.
“How about you? What do you say, Nick? Are you ready for a haircut and a nice close shave?”
He belted out a laugh and held both hands up in protest. “You stay away from me with those things.”
“Spoilsport.” She pouted playfully, her full lips arcing downward. “Just think of what good advertising you would be for my salon.”
He shook his head. “No, ma’am. Your beauty salon doesn’t need my kind of advertising. That would be catastrophic—especially since it isn’t even open yet.”
A shadow crossed her gaze and he wanted to kick himself.
Way to go, McKenna. Remind her of all the hurdles they still had to jump over to get her spa up and running.
He reached for her free hand—the one without a sharp instrument in it.
“It’ll happen, Vivian,” he promised. “Maybe not on our original timetable, but your spa will open, and it will be successful. Wait and see. Remember, it’s all in God’s hands, sweetheart.”
“I know,” she said through tight lips.
She didn’t sound like she believed him. It was discouraging, his Vivian losing faith.
His Vivian? Now, where had that come from?
“Nick? Is that you?” Uncle James appeared in the doorway in a battered brown bathrobe and mismatched house shoes. “I thought it was your voice I heard.”
“Hello, Mr. McKenna,” Vivian said brightly, all traces of her own worries instantly erased as she addressed the man. “Are you settling in okay?”
James stared at her, suddenly confused. “Who are you?”
Vivian’s smile didn’t waver. “My name’s Vivian.”
“Viv’s a friend of mine, Uncle James.”
James seemed to dismiss her, his gaze fixed back on Nick. “Are you here to take me home?”
Nick swallowed hard. How could he explain to his uncle that this was home?
He looked to Vivian for guidance. She was way better at dealing with people than he was. She flashed him an encouraging smile.
“Do you have any treats in that minifridge of yours?” she asked, diverting his uncle’s thoughts. “Nick hasn’t eaten in at least an hour. I’m sure he’s famished.”
She glanced back at Nick and winked, her lips twitching with mirth.
He nodded, acknowledging both her sense of humor and his thanks.
“Come on, Uncle James,” he said, gently turning his uncle by the shoulders and leading him back into the room.
“I’ll stop by the cafeteria and see what they’ve got for you,” Viv volunteered. “But then I’ve got to get back to the other residents. There are a lot of ladies waiting to get their hair done.”
He watched her walk away, marveling at her ability to give of herself to others even when she was struggling through issues in her own life.
Not every woman had such a large and loving heart.
But then again, not every woman was Vivian Grainger.