Chapter Ten

Cam stared in the bathroom mirror and silently commanded himself to get his shit together. All night he’d felt like his world was breaking apart and reshaping with a new center. It wasn’t theoretical anymore. He was a father. And he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

He didn’t know the baby’s routine. He hadn’t known which bedtime story was her favorite. Or what the name of her favorite bath toy was. Or which stuffed animal she needed to kiss on the nose before she would go to sleep.

He didn’t know any of those things about his nieces or nephews either. He hadn’t needed to in order to be a good uncle, but this was different. This wasn’t uncle territory. This was daddy territory and he was hopelessly out of his depth.

Rachel was a good mom. He’d never known this side of her, and he was starting to think they hadn’t really known one another at all. They’d just enjoyed one another, playing together. Sure, they’d had a few serious conversations—enough that he felt like he understood her, understood why she was such a planner—but there were so many things they didn’t know about one another. He’d always thought there would be more time for the serious stuff. And then she’d been gone. And now the serious stuff was here without warning.

This was a whole new ball game. She was a mom. He was trying to figure out how to be a dad. And neither of them seemed to know how to talk to one another.

Cam washed his hands and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear his head. He’d retreated to the bathroom after Sofie had fallen asleep in her crib—in part to gather his thoughts, but also in an attempt to keep Rachel from instantly kicking him out now that his excuse for being here was asleep. They still had so much to say to one another, though he had no idea where to start.

He wasn’t ready for any of this. But sometimes your shot at the majors came before you were ready for it and you had to play your best and hope that it was enough to keep you in the game…and not psych yourself out and ruin your hope of ever getting another shot again if you got kicked back down to the minors. He’d perfected the art of projecting confidence and pretending he had it all under control.

“You’ve got this,” he reminded his reflection—and headed back out into the living room.

The apartment was tiny. It was hard to imagine three adults and a toddler all lived here. The space probably would have felt even more claustrophobic if it hadn’t been so ruthlessly organized. There was a place for everything—and he could see Rachel’s influence in every tidy little shelf and cubby.

When he came back into the living room, the doors to the other bedrooms were conspicuously closed and Rachel’s mother and grandmother had made themselves scarce again. Rachel was standing at the tree, putting up the last ornaments. Or, to be more accurate, fixing them. As he watched, she plucked an ornament he’d put up off the tree and moved it to a lower branch, her movements quick and sure.

Cam suppressed a smile. It had been driving her crazy earlier, watching him haphazardly hang ornaments all over her tree. He was amazed she’d managed to restrain herself from fixing them this long. She moved two more ornaments and took a step back to study her work.

“Better?”

She jumped and whirled toward him, a rosy glow rising to her cheeks. “Sorry, I just…”

“Couldn’t stand it anymore?” He smiled and she took another step away from the tree, as if to stop herself from continuing to tweak it.

“I wanted to tell you I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, and he thought she meant about moving the ornaments until she continued. “For not telling you before. Though if you’d told me the truth about your marital status—” She bit off the words. “Anyway I’m sorry.”

“So am I. For not telling you about Erika. I wanted to—”

She shook her head, interrupting, “We need to move past that. For Sofie.”

“For Sofie,” he conceded, though he didn’t want it to just be for Sofie.

“My brother offered to kick your ass. I almost let him, but in retrospect I’m glad I didn’t.”

Cam frowned. “I thought you weren’t in touch with him.”

“I wasn’t. I, uh, got in touch after…”

After they broke up. After she found out about Sofie. He wanted to ask her when she’d realized she was pregnant. If she’d been excited or scared. Why she hadn’t called him. But he didn’t want to push his luck. He nodded to the tree to distract her before she could decide they were done and kick him out. “Do you always use a fake tree?”

She glanced toward it. “It isn’t fake. It’s still a Christmas tree. It’s just...”

“Not alive?”

“It’s easier. And cheaper. Do you know how expensive live trees are? And then you just throw them away in a month.”

“I’m happy to help out with money. And I don’t just mean the tree.” Cam glanced around the tiny apartment. It was cozy. Homey and comfortable. But kids were expensive. He’d heard his sisters bemoaning that often enough.

She bristled, pursing her lips. “We’re doing fine. Thanks.” She turned back to the tree, dismissing the subject and continuing to adjust ornaments.

“Do you have a schematic in your head of where each ornament goes?”

From her profile he could see her mouth tighten even more. “I just want it to be perfect. It’s the first Christmas tree Sofie might remember.”

At one and a half? “I’m pretty sure she isn’t going to know the difference.”

“I know that. But I still want it to be perfect.”

Perfect to him had always been an illusion. He and Erika had the perfect marriage—and it had vanished like smoke. He had the perfect career—and it felt like he was hanging on by his fingernails. Perfect was an impossible standard, an appearance to keep up. And sometimes he was exhausted just thinking about it.

“Perfect is overrated,” he murmured. “Sometimes the imperfections are the best part.” He closed the distance between them, eyeing the flawlessly symmetrical tree and the woman working so hard to make everything perfect.

Rachel was a planner, he knew that, but if life always went exactly to plan, he would still be married to Erika. He wouldn’t have met Rachel and they wouldn’t have Sofie. Sometimes the accidents life handed them when they were striving for perfection were the best opportunities. A wild pitch that turned into a double play to get them out of an inning. Or a checked swing that turned into a game winning base hit. He’d learned to roll with what the universe handed him—and right now it seemed to be handing him a second chance with Rachel.

The anger he’d felt this afternoon had already bled away, leaving the memory of what he’d wanted them to be in its place. He’d never been good at holding grudges. One of the most critical tools a ball player could have was a short memory—the ability to forget the mistakes of the past and focus on the next pitch, rather than the one he’d just missed. Cam hadn’t always been able to do that—every player went through phases where he got in his head—but he was determined not to strike out this time.

The light of the Christmas tree glowed on the side of her face and reflected in her eyes. Eyes that locked on his as the moment held, lingering.

“Rachel,” he murmured, reaching to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

She ducked her head, tucking the hair back herself, and her gaze flicked away from his. “Sofie’s asleep now. Maybe you should…”

Cam dropped his hand, reading the rejection loud and clear. He thrust his hands into his pockets, rocking back. “I’d like you and Sofie to meet my family. Maybe this week sometime?”

“Of course.” Rachel nodded, still not meeting his eyes. “I’ll look at my schedule and we’ll work something out.”

“Good.” He searched his brain for something else to say, some other way to put off leaving. There was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be right now. Sofie was asleep, but she was here. Rachel was pushing him away, but she was here.

But he didn’t want Rachel to regret inviting him over. He didn’t want her to think twice about doing it again because she worried she couldn’t get rid of him. So it was time to leave gracefully, even if it felt wrong to walk away.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised as Rachel watched him put on his shoes and coat from a safe distance, her arms folded across her middle. “Thank you for tonight.”

* * * * *

Rachel closed the door behind Cam, locking the deadbolt and resting her forehead against the smooth, cold surface.

“Oh! Did Cameron leave already?”

Rachel barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes at her mother’s badly feigned surprise. “You know he did.”

Her mother must have been eavesdropping to come out so soon after Cam’s departure—not that she could blame her. The apartment’s thin walls weren’t exactly the height of noise insulation. Until they’d gotten Sofie a white noise machine, she’d been waking up every time someone spoke above a whisper in the living room.

“He seems like a nice boy.”

Cam was hardly a boy. He was a man—and that was half the problem. It would have been easy to resist a boy who wasn’t ready for the reality of having a kid. It would have been easy to dismiss him and get back to her regularly scheduled life.

Restraining her comment since she really didn’t want to get into a whole post-mortem of Cam’s visit, Rachel pushed off the door, her limbs suddenly heavy with exhaustion. She moved past her mother into the kitchen, automatically going through the routine of tidying up and getting ready for tomorrow.

Her mother didn’t take the hint, following her into the kitchen. “Sofie seems to like him. Babies have good instincts.”

Rachel cringed at that glimpse into her mother’s decision making process. No wonder she blindly trusted everyone she met. Rachel couldn’t afford to do that. She needed to be smart. It was her job to look out for Sofie. To be the suspicious one so Sofie didn’t have to. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down around Cam.

Even if part of her wanted to.

There had been a moment by the tree. Intimate. Humming with possibility. Reminding her of the time when she’d thought he was a good guy. When she’d trusted him. When she’d wanted to give him her whole heart.

She couldn’t afford moments like those. Right now she had enough to manage just trying to navigate this new situation.

Everything was going to change.

It had been the right thing to do, telling him. She knew that, but she still wished she hadn’t had to. She’d liked her life. She’d been in control of her life, but now…everything was spiraling out of control and she’d never liked that feeling.

Her mother’s arm slid around her waist from the side. “Everything’s going to work out.”

“You don’t know that,” she mumbled.

“I do,” Andie insisted.

Rachel shook her head, resisting the comfort. Because she knew how empty that comfort was. Words with nothing behind them. Her mother believed everything would work out—but never did anything to make it work. Rachel had learned early that if she wanted something to happen, she had to do it herself.

And that she should never trust her mother’s judgment.

Andie trusted too much, too easily, and Rachel wasn’t going to make that mistake. Not again.