His Surprise Son (15 page)

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Authors: Wendy Warren

BOOK: His Surprise Son
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Chapter Fifteen

“W
ho’s this guy?”

Since he’d returned from camp, Eli had been using his voice more than his hands to speak. Izzy thought her son had grown an inch also, but that could have been her imagination. Eli seemed to have matured in the two weeks he’d been away. Now, as they stood in the kitchen, assembling ingredients for the “monster burritos” that were her son’s favorite meal, Izzy’s stomach buzzed with nerves.

“I told you, honey, he’s an old friend, and he’d like to meet you.”

“He’s the dude Trey saw you with at the zoo?”

“Yes.”

Pausing in his cheese grating, Eli popped a hunk of the cheddar into his mouth. “Mom. You’re dating.”

“No! I’m not.” Pushing her loose hair behind her ear, she chopped an onion, taking care to look up so Eli could assist his own hearing by reading her lips while she spoke. “Eli, don’t try to read anything into this, okay? Just enjoy getting to know him. I think you’ll like Nate.”

“Do
you
like Nate?”

Affecting an innocent look, the fourteen-year-old continued to eat rather than grate cheese. He wasn’t used to her spending time with unfamiliar men, Izzy reminded herself, and that was why he was probing. She hadn’t dated anyone in a hundred years. Slicing the onion with perhaps a little more vigor than necessary, she responded as if it should be obvious, “Why would I introduce you to someone I
don’t
like? Can you please grate at least the same amount of cheese you’re scarfing?”

Eli grinned. And shoved several tortilla chips into his mouth at once before resuming his duties.

The soothing sounds of chopping and grating lulled Izzy for the moment while she pondered again the wisdom of having Eli meet Nate before explaining who Nate was. They really didn’t look that much alike. Eli wasn’t going to guess, at least not tonight. And Nate had confirmed earlier today that he wanted time to “get Eli to like me” before they told him the truth. Nate still seemed so nervous about it that Izzy had agreed. But she was worried. There had already been too many secrets.

It’ll be okay. It will
, she reassured herself. Nate was likable and very cool. At least, he seemed like the type of person a teenage boy would find cool. She was making far too big an issue of
when
they told him; really, they should probably focus on
how
. And if she thought she was nervous tonight, she could only imagine how Nate was feeling—

“So, Mom, do you
like
him like him?”

“Oh, my gosh, Eli!” Izzy nearly sliced her finger off with the knife. The question sent her heart rate into orbit. “Can we just please— Let’s concentrate on making dinner, ’cause we’re running late. What kind of olives do you want for the burritos? Black or the green kind with pimentos?”

Wiping his hands, Eli pulled his phone from his back pocket and began thumb-typing.

Izzy swatted him with a dish towel so he’d look at her. “What are you doing?”

“Texting Trey to tell him he’s right.” Eli laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself, and Izzy realized with no small amount of surprise that her son was truly fine with the idea that his mother might want to date.

The sound of the doorbell, along with the flashing chime they’d had since before Eli’s cochlear implant, precluded further conversation.

Izzy raced to the sink to wash her hands.

“I’ll get it,” Eli announced, still laughing as he sped from the kitchen with the clear intention of beating her to the door. Izzy had to stop herself from turning off the water with soap still on her hands. She’d already promised herself several times that she would let this meeting and all subsequent meetings between father and son unfold without her interference. Man, it was hard. Bracing her hands on the edge of the sink, she counted her breaths.
Let them do this on their own. Trust.

On the other hand, there would never be another first meeting between father and son. She should get a picture.
Or, at the very least, watch it so I can describe it back to them at a later date.

To get to the living room, she had to hurdle over Latke, who was taking a rest stop in the hallway. Izzy skidded to a stop as Eli swung the door wide and said in his nasal monotone, “Hi. I’m Eli. Are you Nate? My mom is in the kitchen. Come on in.”

Nate seemed to be frozen on the threshold. Izzy held her breath.

Hungry eyed, Nate stared at her son...his son...their son...with an expression approaching awe. She could see him absorbing every detail—fair skin tanned a light gold, hair the color of an oak leaf in autumn, his mother’s eyes, all ten fingers, the legs of a colt, feet encased in a serious pair of sneakers.

Nate stuck out his hand. Izzy understood instantly that the gesture was not about good manners.
He wants to touch.

She was gratified that her lessons on etiquette had not gone completely unheeded. Grasping Nate’s hand, Eli pumped it heartily.

Nate, clearly, could have continued standing there, shaking hands indefinitely. It was Eli who eventually dropped the hold and said, just in case Nate hadn’t heard the first time, “You can come in.”

“Hi!” she called brightly, acting as if she’d just come around the corner. “Glad you could make it, Nate. Come into the kitchen. We’re just putting the finishing touches on dinner. We’re having monster burritos, Eli’s favorite. You can help me grate some cheese. Eli keeps eating it all. Eli—” she backhanded Eli lightly on the arm as they passed “—pour Nate an iced tea, would you, please? We’ll sit down to eat in a little while.”

Okay, so much for allowing the evening to unfold without her interference. But the evening did improve from there.

As they sat down at the table to eat, Nate asked Eli what his favorite subject was in school.

“We’re learning about the Renaissance,” Eli answered. “My class is making models of the Capitoline Museums.”

Nate’s eyes lit up like sparklers. “Italy is on my bucket list.”

Eli nodded. “Mine, too.”

Izzy hadn’t even known her son had a bucket list! “What are the Capitoline Museums?” she asked.

Both Eli and Nate looked at her, their expressions so alike that her breath caught at the similarity.

“Mom, seriously? You went to high school, right?”

“Yes, smart aleck, and I’m quite sure the Capitoline Museums were not mentioned.”

Eli looked at Nate. “Where did you go to high school?”

As their son worked on a too-big bite of burrito, Nate and Izzy shared a sharp glance. “Right here,” Nate answered. “Same high school you’re at.”

“Is that where you met my mom?”

Izzy’s appetite vanished. Was this where the whole truth would emerge or more lies would be told?

“Yes.” Wiping his mouth with one of the cloth napkins Izzy had laid out, Nate sat back. “Your mother was a grade behind me.”

Eli looked between them, a broad grin taking over his face. “What was she like?” Izzy opened her mouth to redirect the conversation, but Eli held out a hand. “You don’t get to answer this, Mom.”

Izzy’s heart gave her ribs a pounding as Nate considered his response.

“She was...very much the way she is now. Sincere. A hard worker. Serious.”

“Kinda boring, Mom,” Eli teased.

Nate smiled. “She was also loyal and giving. And brave.” He looked directly at Izzy. “One of the bravest people I know.” He returned his gaze to Eli. “She’d walk through fire for you.”

Though he kept his tone light, he left no doubt that he meant every word. Izzy’s heart settled into a sweet, soft thud.

“So, Italy is on your bucket list, hmm?” she said to Eli, heaping tortilla chips onto his plate. “First I’ve heard of it.”

“I want to do a year of college there. I thought I’d wait to break the news to you.” He glanced at Nate. “She gets kinda emotional and writes a lot of lists when I leave Thunder Ridge. Not really looking forward to the scene when I leave the country.”

“I am very supportive of your independence,” Izzy protested, tearing up at the mere thought of her son, her baby, living an ocean away.

With the conversation safely deflected from questions about her and Nate, Izzy settled back and watched the two men she’d loved the most in her life. They discussed architecture and the Trail Blazers, the merits of kayaking versus paddleboarding (kayaking won by a mile), and why they loved the TV show
Grimm
. Izzy shuddered.

When Eli switched from spoken language to ASL, which he did unconsciously sometimes when addressing her, Nate simply looked to Izzy for translation.

Shooing them back to their seats as they rose to help her ferry the dinner plates to the kitchen, she met Nate’s eyes above Eli’s head.
Thank you
, he mouthed.

And when she returned a few minutes later with pound cake and fresh peach ice cream, Nate looked up again as Eli was teaching him how to play Geometry Dash on his phone and this time mouthed,
He’s fantastic.

Altogether, Nate stayed three and a half hours. Eli said he was still recovering from two weeks with younger kids and that he was ready for bed, so Izzy walked Nate to his car.

It occurred to her as she closed the front door and stepped into the evening that for the first time in Eli’s fourteen years, she could discuss her boy with the only other person likely to be as proud of his every burp as she’d always been.

* * *

Nate had eaten at Michelin star restaurants, conversed with CEOs and foreign investors over Kobe-steak crostini and bottles of wine worth four hundred dollars. But he knew he would forever think of this as the best night of his life.

Beneath a lavender sky that was deepening rapidly now to purple, Izzy walked beside him, dressed in another of her simple sundresses, with skinny straps and a formfitting top that showed her figure hadn’t changed much since she was seventeen. It was easy to imagine, just for a moment, that they’d stayed together, that his life was right here where stars, not streetlamps or skyscrapers, lit the night, and where “Good night, son” and “I love you, Isabelle” could have been the last words he said every night.

Common sense tried to tell him he was reacting to the big emotions of the night, nothing more. He glanced down at Izzy, her silky hair brushing her bare shoulders, her feet small and pretty in simple sandals, and he thought,
How could I not love her for what she’s given me?
The delicate-looking woman beside him had more strength in her pinkie than he had in his entire body. Real strength. The kind that mattered. He owed her more than he could ever repay.

Turning toward her as they reached his rental car, she said, “It was a good night. A great start, I thought. Eli really likes you.”

Hope and pleasure swelled inside him. “Think so?”

“Oh, yeah. You had him at Trail Blazers.” Her impish smile shot straight to his heart.

“He’s the luckiest kid in the world to have you for a mother.”

She blinked, temporarily lost for words. “I’ve stumbled a lot,” she said at last, shrugging. “I just keep loving him.”

He nodded. “Like I said, lucky kid. I wouldn’t have been half the parent you’ve been.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is. You knew yourself, Izzy. Even at seventeen.”

“Me?” She shook her head. “No. Being Eli’s parent has taught me all sorts of things I didn’t know I needed to learn. That will happen to you, too.”

His throat felt thick. She was speaking as if she accepted that he would be an ongoing presence in Eli’s life. “I meant it when I said you were brave.”

She nodded. “I know you meant it. Thank you.”

Pressing his thumb and forefinger to the inner corner of his welling eyes, he admitted, “I was pretty damn scared Eli wasn’t going to like me at all.”

Compassion transformed her face. “Well. What’s not to like?” A moment passed, and she said quietly, “Good night, Nate.”

He didn’t want to end this night, not by a long shot, but it was getting late, and she probably had to get up early the next day. As for himself, he wasn’t going to sleep a wink.

Afraid to touch her, knowing that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to let her go, Nate settled for drinking in one long last moment with the mother of his son, before he said, “Good night, Isabelle.”

* * *

Izzy turned from Nate with conflict pulsing through her veins. She couldn’t wait to get back to the house, to talk to Eli if he was still up and to debrief with herself, too. On the other hand, leaving Nate tonight felt as hard as it had been when she was seventeen and leaving him meant returning to a lonely, miserable trailer.

She’d seen new expressions on his face tonight, expressions she was willing to bet that no one but she had ever witnessed. Enjoying their child together had been holy. Magical. And then there had been the moment by the car when she’d thought...sensed, really...was almost
certain
, in fact...that he was going to kiss her again.

But he didn’t.

And, let’s face it, almost kissing someone didn’t count for much of anything. It wasn’t worth thinking about. Anyway, she knew she couldn’t kiss him anymore. That would be insanity. The very definition of
irresponsible
. Utter emotional suicide, and he surely realized that, too.

All these thoughts Izzy managed to pack into the two steps she took away from Nate.

Before the third step, she felt his fingers clamp around her left wrist. Taking her by surprise, he turned her around and pulled her back to him, and before she could even wonder what to expect, his lips were on hers.

Warm. Firm. Hungry but gentle...exploring more than her mouth, exploring her feelings, too. A good kiss was more than foreplay; it was a conversation, and, oh wow, she could talk to Nate all night long.

His hands held her face, then moved into her hair. Her fingers curled into his chest, then slid up to his shoulders to delve into the hair at his nape. By the time he raised his head, Izzy was panting. Either she was seriously out of shape, or this kiss was aerobic.

She lowered her forehead to his chest, and Nate placed a lingering kiss on the top of her head, which was almost sweeter than his kissing her lips. Well,
as
sweet, anyway.

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