Her Motherhood Wish (Parent Portal 3)

“Eleven days,” she shot back. She was counting. And not counting down, ready for him to

be gone. “I’m a good judge of character,” she said. “In my job, I have to be. Not that he probably ever knew it, or knew I noticed, but my father used to always watch people, listen to them, before he opened up to them. He’d get their measure by things other than words. He taught me that. In eleven days, your actions have shown me that my son would be missing a vital piece of himself if he didn’t know you.”

Those complications he’d known were coming...one had just flown right out of his heart and into the world. Their little world. And now they had to deal with it.

“I think what we need is some kind of definition,” he said. “Not one designated by any sense of normal, or what other people think...but one that works for us...” Lord knew none of his other relationships had been traditional. Normal. Not since his father had died. He’d learned from them, too. “If we know, going in, what our expectations are going to be, then this will work, too.”

This thing with Cassie had to work. There just wasn’t any other option. There was a boy coming who would benefit from knowing him.

She’d just hooked him and reeled him in for life.

Whether they got hurt or not, there was absolutely no turning back.

Chapter Twelve

She had to trust herself to do the right thing. Right for her baby. Right for her. Right for Wood. Or maybe she should focus on doing what was the best for all of them. Which road would lead to the most happiness for the most people?

The guidelines between right and wrong were more clear cut when she was doing her job. But in life...when there were so many parameters, so many different societal mores and lifestyles and views of the world...what was right for some was wrong for others. It was like her mom said—she had to rely on her inner self. Live her life, and let others have theirs.

Which all sounded great, and a little lofty, but how did that translate into reality?

Before she could come up with any kind of parameters to describe who they might become, Wood suggested that they go inside and focus on the crib first. She’d practically run beside him, getting into the store. For the first time since she could remember, she was at a total loss. This wasn’t just about her, or about someone else’s life. It wasn’t just about being a part-time daughter to her father and tending to him when she could. It was about other lives, ones that were now permanently attached to hers, and her choices were going to affect all of them. For the rest of her life.

How did you control something to make certain that you didn’t screw it up?

“Maple is a viable choice, as is this birch here,” Wood was saying. He’d mentioned owning both a jointer and a planer—tools, she knew. “Pine is good, too, but a more basic option, in my opinion. Cherry’s a great choice, if you like the color,” he said. And then added, “But you can have pretty much any color you’d like. I can dye it. We have several non-toxic options, depending on what kind of top coat you’d want...”

And she’d thought crib plans would be less overwhelming.

“Maybe it’ll help if you decide what kind of style and design you want first,” Wood said as she stood there, looking at the array of choices, her mind a complete blank.

He opened the folder he’d grabbed from the back seat of the truck, moving close to her so that she could look at it with him, and started pointing out various cribs, from a Shaker style to the traditional granny style that had been around for decades. There were plain, square legged and barred, those with fancy scrollwork, and some that fell in between the two.

She looked at them all as he showed them to her. Listened as he talked. But all she could think about was how good it felt to be so close to him. And how manly he smelled. None of the expensive cologne or aftershave she was bombarded with all day at work—from the partners and the clients—but just a fresh, clean, sexy smell that was driving her nuts.

Even the deep tone of his voice reverberated through her, touching her intimately.

“I need some direction here.” The words got through her distraction to sit heavily upon her.

Yeah, she needed direction, too. And had no idea where to source it.

“It’s your gift to your...to the child your donation helped create.” She stumbled a bit over the words. But quickly continued before either of them could make note of what she’d almost said. “I think you should make the choices.” Yes, she liked the idea. More and more as she thought about it. “Make whatever crib you want, with whatever wood you want, in whatever color you want,” she told him, not only feeling good about turning the project fully over to Wood, but actually satisfied that she’d made the best decision.

One down...several major ones to go.

* * *

Eager to begin his new project in ways he’d never have imagined, Wood wanted to do some research before making choices. He knew about the different kinds of materials he could use, but he wanted to familiarize himself with more history when it came to crib making. This wasn’t going to be just any crib. It was going to hold and nurture his...the child that his donation had created.

Finally, he had a job to do. Someone to be. The crib maker.

He had a purpose in this infant’s life.

The strength of satisfaction that thought brought—that gave him pause.

And yet, with Elaina in her residency, earning her own money, Retro having learned more tricks than she’d ever use, their house fully maintained and his crew at work running smoothly, with more jobs lined up after they finished the current one, life had become more about routine than actually living. The only excitement in his life had come from his investments, and because money wasn’t the most important thing to him, even those had begun to pall. He’d mastered that challenge to his satisfaction.

But it was more than just having something to do. He finally had a purpose where his son was concerned. A job.