Chapter 4

CeCe was apprehensive as she drove to the Robinwood Recreation Center at nine Saturday morning for the first of the series of employment workshops that she and Anna Mae would be conducting. First, she felt guilty for having to bring David along this morning. It really wasn't fair that he had to be cooped up inside with her on a sunny day like today, but she had no other choice. Miss Brinson and Mr. Towers had gone to Savannah with the Seniors group from church, and the baby-sitter had canceled at the last minute. Second, this would be the first time she'd seen Nate since she'd declined his invitation two weeks ago. Her planning meetings with Anna Mae had occurred at Anna Mae's home or here at the Center, and her one or two trips to Genesis House had occurred when Nate wasn't around. During the two weeks, she'd replayed their conversation over in her mind at least a thousand times. Her conclusion: she'd overreacted. And third, she didn't know how Nate would react when he found out she had a child. He didn't know anything about her, and she knew very little about him. What if he turned out to be as shallow as the Erics and Larrys who'd passed though her life?

"Wow, look at that, Mama!" David called out from behind her, where he was buckled into his booster seat.

CeCe didn't have to ask what her son was looking at. Nate, two boys who looked to be a little older than David, and a mutt about as big as David were playing in the grassy area to the left of the Center's entrance. The dog seemed to belong to Nate, and she wondered if the boys did, too. "When we get out of the car, I don't want you to go near that dog, David," CeCe said, knowing her son's inclinations. She also knew the "I want a puppy" litany she'd be hearing for the next few weeks.

She shut off her car's motor, quickly got out, and proceeded to assist David out. "Come on, sweetie," she encouraged as her son wrestled with his seat belt. "Let Mama help you."

"No, Mama," David said. "I can do it."

CeCe bit her lips together and told herself not to be impatient with her independent young man. She'd been warned that the fearsome fours made the terrible twos look like fun. With no assistance from her, David managed to unbuckle his seat belt and scoot out of the car.

"Wait right there," CeCe said as she reached in after him and grabbed a couple of his books and toys. When she turned to him, he was bouncing from one foot to the other and his eyes were glued to the dog.

"That sure is a big dog," David said, with a tinge of what sounded like fear in his voice.

Good, CeCe thought, as David slipped his small hand into hers. Now she wouldn't have to tie him down to keep him away from the animal.

"Hi," Nate said when the two reached the entrance. He and the dog had left the boys to come and greet her and David. He wore a smile that suggested he wasn't perturbed by their last encounter, but she read the question in his eyes as he looked from her to David.

"Morning, Nate," she said brightly. Not too brightly, she hoped. Tugging on David's hand to bring him forward, she added, "This is David, my son. David, this is Mr. Nate, my boss."

She waited to see the reaction in Nate's eyes. Would she read disappointment or budding excitement? She was pleasantly surprised when she saw neither. He stooped and extended his hand to her son. "Nice to meet you, David."

David shook the offered hand but moved back closer to his mother.

Nate's face smiled when the sheepdog-mutt nuzzled at his back. "No need to be scared of old Shep here," he said to David. "He's nothing but a big baby." He looked back at the other boys, who had moved in closer to the dog. "Isn't that right, fellows? Old Shep is nothing but a big baby." As if to prove him right, the boys jumped on Shep's back. Then the dog turned and sent the boys flying onto the grass in a gale of little-boy laughter.

"I've never seen a dog that big," David said, his eyes wide and his hand holding CeCe's even tighter.

"He's big, and he likes to play. Do you like to play?" Nate asked. His interest in David struck CeCe as genuine.

David nodded but moved even closer to her.

CeCe sighed. She wasn't surprised at David's reserve with Nate. She was used to it, but it always made her wonder how different David's life would have been if Eric had assumed his parental responsibilities. She didn't complain or worry much about her son's skittishness, though, because she trusted God to be the Father her son didn't have, and so far, he hadn't let her down. "We'd better get inside," she said to Nate. "I'm late already and Anna Mae's probably wondering if I'm going to stand her up."

From his crouched position next to her son, Nate looked up at her. "Anna Mae's fine. She's in her element when she's telling people what to do." He said the words fondly, with no trace of malice.

"Well, I'd still better get in there."

"You're taking David with you?" he asked, as she tugged her son's hand to get him moving.

Her back stiffened. "You have a problem with that?"

He grinned, and his probing eyes told her that she was the object of his amusement. "None." Then he rubbed his hand across David's head. "But I bet David isn't looking forward to being cooped up all day, are you, David?"

The boy shook his head and looked up at his mother. She could read the question in his eyes and was about to give him a negative answer when Nate spoke. "Why don't you leave him out here with me, Shep, and the boys? We'll take good care of him." As if the big dog knew Nate was talking about him, he chose that moment to nuzzle again at Nate's back, almost knocking him over.

David giggled and moved a bit away from CeCe, and toward Nate and the dog.

Nate fell to the ground in exaggerated fashion, and Shep jumped on top of him and began licking his face. The play attracted the other boys, and soon they had jumped into the fray as well. They looked so silly and Nate was so obviously faking that CeCe couldn't help but laugh too. David started with a soft giggle and was soon engaged in full-fledged laughter along with the others.

From under the pile of boys and dog, Nate looked over at David. "You're not laughing at me, are you, David? We men have to stick together. It's us against the dogs, don't forget that. You should help the fellows pull this mutt off me."

CeCe looked down at her son, whose eyes had grown wide at Nate's suggestion.

"Fortunately, I have a secret weapon." Nate pulled something from his pocket—a dog biscuit, maybe—and tossed it about fifty feet away from him. As if on cue, the big dog ran after it, the two boys on his heels.

Nate got up and brushed the debris from his jeans. "How'd you like to stay out here and help me, Shep, and the boys wash my truck?" he asked David. "We could even give your Mama's car a good wash." He leaned closer to the child and lowered his voice. "Between you and me, I think the Maxima needs a wash. Badly."

"Mama—"

"You don't have to do this, Nate," CeCe said before her son could pose his question. "David can spend the morning inside with us. I brought along some toys and books."

"It's not a bother, really. If I can handle two of the little rascals—" he pointed toward the other boys—"I can handle one more." At her hesitancy, he added, "We'll be right out here where you can see us from the window. Of course, you can come out and check on us any time you like."

"It's not that I don't trust you—"

"Then go on inside. David and I will be fine."

CeCe looked down at David's eager face and up at Nate's solemn one. Though she hadn't known Nate that long, she didn't doubt he would take good care of her son. His interaction with the other boys assured her of that much. And she had no doubt that David would enjoy himself. She just didn't feel right letting Nate do this personal favor for her, not after she'd gone out of her way to tell him that she wanted to keep her personal life and her professional life separate. She didn't want Nate to think she was sending mixed messages, or worse, that she would accept personal interaction when it benefited her. She looked down at David again, and the excitement in his features made her decision for her. "You do what Mr. Nate tells you to do, David, and don't ask him a million questions, all right? I'll be right inside if you need me." She glanced up at Nate. "He's at that age where everything is a question, but I'm sure you know that."

"No problem. I'm used to it." Nate placed his hand atop David's head again. "Besides, I like questions. Don't worry. We'll get along fine. Go on inside. I promise to keep my eyes on him."

CeCe met and held Nate's glance for a moment; then she nodded and went into the Center.

* * *

Nate watched CeCe as she walked away, thinking again that she was a fine figure of a woman.

"Are we gonna wash your truck?" David asked him.

Nate turned to the boy, glad for the distraction. He knew he didn't need to be thinking about CeCe's fine figure. He smiled at David, who looked so much like his mother. They had the same expressive face and the same big brown eyes. "We sure are, but first we have to track down our helpers. Think you're up for it?"

David gave a vigorous nod that made Nate's stomach tighten. Needy kids always got to him. And he could spot the needy ones a mile off. Unless he was wrong, David was one of them. Not unhappy, no, not that. Just needy. With a smile, he took the boy's hand and led him over to the other boys. After brief introductions, he directed his group back to his truck, where he assigned each one a specific task and pointed them to the appropriate supplies.

When he had everything organized and David was hard at work on his task of scrubbing the floor mats, Nate's thoughts returned to CeCe. There were many layers to the woman. He guessed she was raising David alone. That would explain the neediness he saw in the boy as well as CeCe's reluctance to be separated from her son. The thought that she might have gone through a divorce made him sad, for both her and her son. He knew the pain he'd felt, and he didn't wish that on anybody—especially an innocent child like David. Though Nate had wanted children, he was glad now that he and Naomi hadn't had any. Divorce was hard enough on adults. He knew it had to be even harder on children.

He shook off the sad thoughts and the questions, and turned to David. "How you doing, sport?"

* * *

By the time CeCe reached the classroom, Anna Mae was already up in front introducing the morning's session. She tried to slip into a seat in the back of the room and let her friend continue without her, but Anna Mae called her to the front, and they co-led the session just as they'd planned. About halfway through, she saw Shay enter the room and take a seat in the back. She stayed there until something outside the window caught her attention. Shay gazed out the window for a few minutes, then she eased back out of the room.

The session continued smoothly and ended right on schedule, after ninety minutes. CeCe and Anna Mae chit-chatted for about half an hour with those who wanted to hang around. After the students had all gone, the two women began to gather their equipment and belongings.

"You did a great job, Anna Mae," CeCe told her new friend. She wasn't exaggerating, either. "I think you should handle it on your own next week. I'll be here, but I think you can do it."

"I'm not ready yet, CeCe," Anna Mae said as she closed the top of the laptop they’d used to show their slides. "But give me some time. I had a real good time today. You make it seem so easy."

"We're a good team," CeCe said absently. The sight of Nate, David, and the dog playing together outside had commanded her attention. She wondered where the other boys were.

"He's good with kids, isn't he?" Anna Mae commented from behind her. "He must have guessed some of the parents would bring their children with them. His taking care of them made it easier for the parents to concentrate on the session."

CeCe nodded her head at Anna Mae's words, but she didn't say anything. The workshop had gone well, the participants had left happy, and from what she could see from the window her son had had a great time with Nate and company. Then why did she feel so down?

"Hey, did you hear me?" Anna Mae asked.

CeCe turned around. "I'm sorry, Anna Mae, my mind was somewhere else."

Anna Mae lifted her brows. "You wouldn't be the first."

"What do you mean by that?" CeCe asked, though she could have made a pretty good guess.

"I mean you wouldn't be the first woman to be distracted by Nate Richardson. He's definitely something to look at, isn't he?"

Only if you're into tall, dark, and handsome. "I wasn't looking at Nate," CeCe said. And she wasn't, not really. She had been watching David with Nate.

Anna Mae lifted her shoulders in a skeptical shrug. "Hey, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I've done my share of looking, too. Besides, Nate's a great guy." She looked out the window. "Your kid seems to think so, too. Nate's good with kids. He and a couple of his friends lead a small group at church for boys a little older than yours."

CeCe looked out the window at the two of them again. She agreed with Anna Mae's assessment that Nate was good with kids. She had kept watch on him and the boys during the workshop and, from what she saw, Nate had handled them effortlessly. It had seemed he was having as much fun as the boys were. "I know you said he was unattached, but were those other two boys his children?" she finally asked, no longer able to keep her curiosity at bay.

Anna Mae frowned. "Your mind really was somewhere else, wasn't it?"

CeCe didn't know what her friend was talking about, and she was sure her eyes reflected her cluelessness.

"No, sad to say," Anna Mae answered, "Nate doesn't have kids. Those two boys belonged to a couple of the parents who were in our session," she explained. "If any man deserved kids, Nate did, but that wife of his—"

"Wife?"

"I mean ex-wife. They've been divorced for a few years now, and she recently remarried and set that man free. It couldn't have been more than a month ago." Anna Mae waved her hand, dismissing the ex-wife and her new marriage. "Whatever. I'm sure if it had been up to him, he would have some kids, but that ex-wife..."

"What about her?" CeCe asked, looking out the window again.

"Nate's had some rough breaks, but it's not my place to tell you about them. I've said too much already. Are you interested in him?"

CeCe turned to stare at Anna Mae. "In whom?"

Anna Mae rolled her eyes. "The tooth fairy. Nate. Who else are we talking about?"

CeCe turned away and needlessly began straightening the chairs in the first row. "No, I'm not interested in him. I don't even know him." A fresh thought formed in her mind, and she turned back to Anna Mae. "You and Nate—?"

Anna Mae lifted her hands, palms out. "No way. We're friends. We go to the same church. That's it. Besides, Nate's not my type."

"What type is that?" CeCe asked.

"Older," Anna Mae said. "At least ten years older."

"You're not that old yourself." CeCe guessed Anna Mae was no more than thirty-six, though she could have been off a year or so. "Besides, what does age have to do with it?"

"Nate needs somebody as innocent as he is."

"Innocent? I thought you said the man was divorced."

"Not that kind of innocent," Anna Mae explained, "but somebody who sees the world the way he does. That divorce would have rocked a weaker man, but I think it made Nate stronger. He needs somebody with the same innocent faith that he has. Somebody who continues to believe even when the circumstances have so obviously turned against her. Not just faith in God, but faith in people too. Now that's real faith. And that's what Nate has."

CeCe wasn't so sure if Anna Mae was right that having faith in God and in people was a sign of real faith. Faith in God she could definitely support, but faith in people was something else. Experience told her that people would let you down. It was a lesson she had learned well. "The way I see it," CeCe said, "people are fallible, and your best bet is not to put too much faith in them. You set yourself up to be hurt if you do. And regardless of how much faith you think you have in God and in your ability to know his will, there comes a point when you have to accept that you were wrong, and that even though your intentions were right, and even though you had all the faith in the world, you were just wrong."

"Are we still talking about Nate, or are we talking about you?" Anna Mae asked, her voice soft and caring.

"A little of both, I guess." CeCe turned her gaze away again, a bit embarrassed that she'd been so transparent. She'd been thinking about the past. At one time, she'd convinced herself that Eric was the man she'd spend her life with, the man God had chosen for her. She'd had faith in God, and faith in Eric. How wrong she'd been.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

CeCe tried to shake off the past. "Not really. It's such a beautiful day, and I promised David we would go out for pizza. Let's just keep things on a light note." She touched Anna Mae's shoulder. "I appreciate your asking, though. It means a lot." She and Anna Mae had talked briefly about their pasts in the couple of weeks they'd known each other. As mothers raising children alone, they shared many of the same hurts, many of the same concerns, but CeCe had never discussed the details of her relationship with Eric, and she wasn't sure she ever would.

"What are friends for?" Anna Mae said, and then she laughed. "You know, some good came out of those parking tickets, anyway."

CeCe groaned. "Please. I hate to even think about those parking tickets. I still can't get over that judge."

Anna Mae laughed again. "It sounds just like Stuart."

"You know the judge?" It seemed to CeCe that the world was a lot smaller than she'd imagined. She didn't need six degrees of separation to find a person who knew him. It seemed everybody knew Judge Rogers.

Anna Mae went back to the desk and loaded the slide carrier into its case. "Didn't I tell you? He goes to our church, too. He's a good guy. You should meet him. I know you two would hit it off."

"There might be some hitting, all right," CeCe murmured. "I'd probably hit him."

Anna Mae laughed again. "Now that I'd like to see. The women at church have spoiled him—Nate too, for that matter. Unattached men can about get away with murder in our church."

"I know what you mean. They can do no wrong at my church either."

"And it doesn't help that both of them are so handsome and so blessedly faithful."

CeCe laughed at the pique in her friend's voice. "You're sounding upset?"

"Well, I am. I'm tired of these women fawning all over these men. It makes the men think more highly of themselves than they ought to think, if you ask me. They could actually start believing we're fortunate they give us the time of day, and then where would we be?"

"You don't have to tell me." CeCe thought about Larry from work. "I've met some of those guys before."

Anna Mae's lips twitched in barely contained laughter. "Well, there is one good thing I can say about it."

"What's that?"

"I bet we have the best-dressed, best-groomed women in Atlanta in our church. There's been a noticeable improvement in the personal care department since Nate and Stuart joined."

Both women laughed. "Anna Mae, you ought to be shot for saying that."

Anna Mae stepped back and placed her hands on her hips. "Why? It's the truth and you know it." She looked as though she were about to say something else, but she glanced at her watch instead. "Oh, no, look at the time. I promised that daughter of mine that we'd go shopping for some new clothes for her today, and I 'm running late. Just a wonder she hasn't beat a path down here to get me. Are you ready to get out of here?" she asked, lifting the laptop off the desk.

"Sure," CeCe said, her thoughts returning to Nate, his ex-wife, and his lack of children. She wondered if different opinions about children had led to their breakup, but she couldn't imagine Nate leaving his wife. He didn't seem the type. The wife probably left him, and if that was the case, he was probably still in love with her. CeCe told herself she shouldn't care since she wasn't interested in Nate. But she did care.

"OK, I'm ready," Anna Mae said, pulling CeCe's thoughts back to the task of returning the classroom to its before-workshop state.

"Me, too." CeCe gathered her purse and the toys and books she'd brought for David and followed Anna Mae out of the meeting room.

Both women headed for the doors, but they stopped when they saw Shay standing in the foyer looking out one of the windows at the main entrance. Anna Mae chatted with them for a couple of minutes, then made her excuses and headed for home.

"Take care," CeCe said to Anna Mae. "And tell Danita I said hi. I'll see you next week." CeCe had met the teenager a couple of times now, and she didn't think Anna Mae had anything to worry about. Danita seemed much more mature and grounded in her faith than CeCe had been at her age.

When CeCe turned back to Shay, the tears streaming down the woman's face replaced all thoughts of Danita. Shay had to have been on the verge of tears the entire time they'd been talking with Anna Mae. Why didn't I notice? CeCe asked herself.

"What's wrong?" CeCe asked. She looked out the window and guessed that Shay had been watching Nate and David fly a kite. CeCe pulled Shay into her arms and tried to calm her. She chastised herself for not thinking about the effect David would have on her. Anna Mae had told her of the despair Shay and Marvin had fallen into after the death of their son. She should have considered her friend's feelings. Shay had sat in on a couple of CeCe's and Anna Mae's planning meetings, and CeCe suspected she would show up today. She should have planned for that possibility.

"I'm so sorry, Shay," she said. "I wouldn't have brought David if I'd known he'd have this effect on you."

Shay sniffled some more, then said, "No, no, I'm glad you brought him. He's such a wonderful little boy. The two of them out there now remind me so much of Marvin and Marvin Jr. Oh, CeCe, I miss my little boy so much."

CeCe just held her friend. She had no words to give her. As a mother, she knew platitudes would do more harm than good, so she just let her friend cry her way through. When her tears seemed to subside, CeCe asked, "Will you tell me about Marvin Jr., Shay? I want to get to know him."

Shay smiled a trembling smile and began. She told of the joy she and Marvin had experienced when they'd found out she was pregnant, how protective Marvin had been during her pregnancy, and how proud they'd both been that their firstborn had been a big, healthy boy. "He was such a bright boy, CeCe, so happy, and so in love with his father. The two were inseparable. Oh, I miss them both so much. It's as though I've lost Marvin too. I don't know if we'll ever get over losing Marvin Jr."

CeCe listened with an almost envious heart. While she couldn't bear to allow herself to even consider the possibility of going through such a tragedy, she was envious of the intimacy Shay and Marvin had shared. Shay's story made her relive the anguish and aloneness she'd felt when she'd learned she was pregnant. How she'd gone through her pregnancy in a state of near depression. The shame she'd felt. And the guilt. Her dreams of pregnancy had always included the doting father and loving husband that Shay had in Marvin. Her reality had been much different.

"Thank you, CeCe," Shay said, gripping her friend's hand tightly. "Thank you for bringing David here today. You know, I haven't really allowed myself to enjoy a child since Marvin Jr.'s death. It was time, and I'm not sure I would have figured that out had you not brought David."

CeCe didn't have a response, so she just pulled Shay into a warm embrace. When they separated, Shay said, "Why don't you go on. I'm going to go freshen up before I go home. Marvin's waiting for me, and I don't want him to know I've been crying. Tell Nate I'll lock up, and he can head home too."

"Are you sure? I can stay with you."

Shay squeezed CeCe's hand. "You've done more than enough. Please go and enjoy your son before I feel even more guilty for crying all over you."

CeCe studied Shay's face, trying to determine if her friend was really OK. Her smile was wobbly but sincere. CeCe nodded. "OK, I'll go, but you call me if you need to talk."

* * *

"Mama, Mama," David called to her just as she stepped outside the Center. He ran toward her, his little legs pumping furiously.

"Slow down, David, I'm right here," she called to him. "I'm not going anywhere."

By the time he reached her, he was nearly breathless. "Guess what, Mama? Mr. Nate's taking me to a ball game. He said Timmy could come, too."

CeCe looked from her son to Nate, who'd just walked up behind the little boy. "Is that right?" she asked Nate. She couldn't help but notice that he looked as fresh now in his jeans and polo shirt as he had when she'd first seen him—a true sign that he was experienced with children. An inexperienced person would look a bit worse for the wear after spending the morning with three rambunctious little boys and a huge, playful dog.

"Hold on a minute, sport," Nate said. "Remember I said we had to ask your mother, not tell her."

"Ask her, Mr. Nate. Ask her."

CeCe grinned at the sheepish expression on Nate's face. Leave it to David to embarrass the man. "That's right. Go ahead, ask me, Nate."

"OK, I'm caught. I admit it. I coach this Little League team at church—the guys are a little older than David—and I thought he might enjoy seeing them play. Of course, you're welcome to come, too."

"Please?" David begged. The hopefulness in his bright eyes told CeCe that Nate had completely won over her son.

She grinned at her child and then at the man who'd brought him such joy. "If you're sure."

"Positive," Nate said.

"Yeah," David said. That battle won, he went for a second one. "I'm hungry, Mama. Can we go get the pizza now?"

CeCe looked down at her son. "We sure can."

"Can Mr. Nate come, too?" David asked.

CeCe's gaze skittered over to Nate, then back down at her son.

"We can't tie Mr. Nate up all day, David. It was nice enough of him to watch you while I taught my workshop. You'll see him again at the ball game."

David looked up at Nate. "But you want to come, don't you, Mr. Nate? You want to see me play the pinball game. You remember, don't you, Mr. Nate? I told you about the pinball."

Nate smiled down at the boy. "Sure I remember, sport. And I am getting a little hungry." He rubbed his stomach as if to prove his point. "I could go for a large pizza about now." He looked over at CeCe. The expression he wore bore a remarkable resemblance to the one David had worn when he was pleading to go to Nate's ball game. "That is, if your mother doesn't mind me tagging along."

She looked at Nate and wondered if thoughts of her personal-slash-professional proclamation were floating around in his mind, but his face gave away nothing. How could she say no? Both of them were giving her puppy-dog looks. After all, Nate had been so nice to David, and David wanted him to come. Besides, what could happen over pizza with a four-year-old chaperone? "Of course, I don't mind," she said in what she hoped was a relaxed tone. Inside, her heart was thumping. She hadn't forgotten her internal warning to guard her heart around this man. "We're going to Kids' Pizza. I hope you're ready for more kids."

Nate grinned at her. "Like I always say, a man can never get enough of kids."

CeCe returned his banter. "And like I always say, spoken like a man who doesn't have kids."

Nate's expression sobered, and he gazed into her eyes. She would have sworn that those probing eyes of his read every thought on her heart. "How would you know whether or not I have kids, Ms. Williams? Been checking up on me?"

CeCe held Nate's gaze, and the dance of flirtation reflected in his eyes made her question the safety of the pizza lunch they were about to share. He was definitely flirting with her. Had he misread her invitation to lunch as something more than it was? She hoped not, but... He meets David and immediately he starts flirting.

She put the pieces of the puzzle together in her head as she'd done many times in the past. In those cases, she'd been disappointed to find out the men were so shallow. With Nate, she was more than disappointed. She was hurt. She'd wanted him to be different.