MASON SHUT THE DOOR, not fully comprehending all that had just happened. He’d been home for less than forty eight hours and his life was in complete shambles. What in the world had Aimee been thinking?
She was thinking you were too demanding, but kind.
Those had been her words and they still sort of stung. He always thought of himself as fairly laid back, but his sister seemed to think otherwise. All those years he’d thought he was taking care of Aimee, trying to help, but apparently, she’d taken it as more control.
Although, who could blame her? Spending time with their mother for the first time in years had opened Mason’s eyes to things he had never noticed before. And it wasn’t pretty. All those times Aimee was upset and sneaking out of the house made much more sense. Mason had always just thought she was the wild child, and maybe it was partly true, but the other part surely had to do with their overly controlling mother.
The revelation that anyone thought he was similar had been a hard slap in the face and had given Mason a determination to make sure he never drifted that far off the direction he wanted for his life. Well, he’d be determined about it as soon as he had the energy. Right now, he needed sleep more than he needed air, but unless Layla was going to fall asleep, he wouldn’t get any either.
He had no idea what to do with a child. He didn’t know Layla, she didn’t know him. She wouldn't sleep. Didn’t eat anything he set in front of her. He couldn't keep up with her messes or keep her out of his stuff. In other words...he was slowly drowning. And he had very little hope that Harper’s sudden appearance would change anything.
“It’s just as well,” he told himself as he took the crying child farther into the house. He winced as he stepped on a toy and had to physically stop himself from kicking it in anger. This was not supposed to be his life. Harper probably ran away and had no intention of coming back. He wouldn’t blame her.
“Do you want something to drink? Some juice?” Mason carried Layla to the kitchen and offered her a small, plastic cup.
She grabbed it eagerly, only to dump almost all the contents down the front of her shirt and subsequently on him, since he was still holding her. The action set off another round of crying.
Mason bit back a curse and refilled the cup, then tried to hold it for her. He would have to wash off the stickiness before too long, but that could wait...maybe. The next ten minutes consisted of him fighting with her for him to hold the cup so she could actually drink the juice while Layla screamed to be the one in charge.
“I think your mom had the in control thing labeled on the wrong person,” he muttered.
Finally, Mason walked to the couch and collapsed, Layla still sniffling against his shirt. He leaned his head back, wishing away the migraine that hadn’t left since he’d heard his dead sister’s words announce that he had become an instant father.
The sniffling quieted and Mason let out a slow breath. This seemed to be the only way that Layla slept. On him. In the middle of the day. He had always assumed he’d have nieces and nephews, even kids of his own, but Mason had had no idea that this was what it would be like. How did anyone survive to adulthood if it was this hard to deal with them? For that matter, why did anyone have more than one kid?
His mind wandered back to the shock on Harper’s face. Yeah...he was positive any possible future chance for the two of them was gone. He’d held off for a long time, trying to find his sister, but now he was raising a little girl. What woman would want to take that on?
Layla shifted and squirmed, causing Mason to hold his breath until she quieted down again. Moving meant waking her up and he was going to avoid that at all costs. He rubbed his eyes. They were so gritty he could barely see. Keeping them closed, he blew out a couple of breaths.
As his body quieted, his mind began to wander and it instantly went back to the reading of the will and everyone’s reactions. His parents had been just as shocked as Mason and Crew. Apparently, they hadn’t known about their granddaughter either, and getting Layla out of Virginia and back to Oregon had taken a feat of Herculean proportions. Without Crew’s interference, Mason was positive he would still be at his mom’s home, fighting off his mother’s demands to keep Layla there.
He might not like it, but Aimee had left Layla to him for a reason. And the more time Mason had spent with his mother, the more he realized just how difficult she was to live with. He didn’t know Layla yet, but after hearing some of what his sister went through, Mason found himself determined to save her from that fate. He owed Aimee that much. He hadn’t been there when she needed him most. She hadn’t felt like she could turn to him when she was a lone teenager under their mother’s unfairly strict rules and regulations. She had felt so alone that she had disappeared halfway across the country and never contacted a single one of them for fear their mother would find out.
His hand flexed on Layla’s back. No...he couldn’t save Aimee, but he could save her daughter. Or he could at least try. And if that cost him sleep, a clean house and...his love life...then that was a sacrifice he was willing to make.
His head flopped to the side. If Layla was sleeping, he might as well catch a couple of winks himself. It was his only shot. And maybe it would help ease the ache in his chest of losing something he’d never even had.
Harper would simply become the one who “got away”.