“Everything okay?” He shoved the phone back into an open slot on the dashboard and pulled the door shut behind him.
Outside in the parking lot, the principal had corralled the bystanders away from the drama. The bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Sam must have been trying to beat the rush since he threw the truck in Reverseand wasted no time backing out of the teachers’ parking area.
“The call was from Aiden’s mother.” So awkward. She hadn’t even gotten the woman’s name. “I told her you were unavailable and asked her to call back, but she was upset, really upset. She seemed very anxious and wanted reassurance that Aiden is doing well.”
She watched Sam’s jaw flex while she spoke. He seemed to be focusing on the thinning crowd outside the window, but when he turned to meet her gaze, his gray eyes flashed with anger.
“Kind of Cynthia to check in on the child she abandoned.” He did not seem to have the same empathy for her that Amy had felt.
But perhaps he had reason not to trust the sincerity of the woman’s pleas? The woman had walked away from her baby, something Amy found difficult to fathom. But then, she also understood postpregnancy hormones could be very tricky. She readjusted the restraint on her seat belt as Sam headed in the direction of town.
Away from where they lived on Partridge Hill.
“She asked me to let you know that she is working hard to get better, and that she’ll come back soon to check in with you.” Her obligation complete, she told herself not to ask anything more about it.
Cynthia wasn’t her business.
But Sam appeared so unmoved by the message that Amy couldn’t help but wonder why he’d been screening calls from the mother of his child, especially when he’d always said that two-parent families were better than one.
“Then it’s a good thing Aiden isn’t old enough to ask where his mother went.” His grip was tight on the steeringwheel as they passed the pizza joint on Main Street that his foster family owned. “Like I was.”
Amy remembered the little bit he’d told her about his life before foster care. His birth certificate lacked a father’s name, and his mother had abandoned him one day while Sam was in first grade. He’d taken the bus to school and come home to an empty house.
“Have you looked for her?” she asked.
“My mother?” He shrugged. “I needed her as a kid. Now?” He shook his head. “I can’t see the point.”
“You told me once that even a bad mother is better than no mother.” She wondered if he still believed that. Would he try to work things out with Aiden’s mother?
And if so, she needed to be very careful about what she let herself feel for him.
“It’s human nature to want to know your birth parents. I suppose I can’t deny Aiden that.”
Her stomach clenched at the thought of Sam with another woman. Not just any other woman, but Aiden’s mother. They could be a real family one day after Amy went back to her life in Atlanta.
“Is Aiden’s mother ill?” She found herself asking the question as they drove past Last Chance Vintage, the consignment shop her sister Erin owned.
Forcing herself to focus on the scenery and not the idea of Sam with his old girlfriend, she squinted into the sun’s glare to see the display in the consignment-shop window. Her sisters had told her about the store in their letters over the years, and the storefront was every bit as quirky and charming as she’d imagined it. The faceless mannequins in the window wore Ts featuring 1970s-era rock bands paired with full, feminine skirts that had a 1950s vibe. The hand-painted sign out front used purplelettering on driftwood. Very eclectic and reflective of Erin’s aesthetic.
But not even the sight of the store could lessen her interest in Sam’s answer. Like it or not, he was bound for life to the woman through the child they shared.
“The last time I checked one of her messages, she claimed she’s suffering from postpartum depression.” He made another turn that took them away from Main Street and toward the town hall and the sheriff’s office.
“You don’t believe her?” Amy tensed, feeling defensive on the woman’s behalf.
Did Sam have any idea how strong the hormones associated with pregnancy could be? How deeply emotional they could make a woman? During and after?
“I have a difficult time trusting someone who disappeared from my life after a one-night stand, never revealed that she was carrying my child and only reappeared because she couldn’t care for our son.” His voice remained level, but the cold judgment in it was evident. “And before you jump down my throat, let me remind you that if the situations were reversed, and your partner had deprived you of getting to know your own child, you might feel every bit as resentful as I do.”
He parked the truck in the town-hall lot with a hard jolt of the gearshift and switched off the ignition. They stared at each other across the cab, the engine ticking in the quiet.
Guilt pinched as she considered that she had judged him unfairly. He had a right to be upset. And to worry about the well-being of his son.
“You’re right.” She would. “She should have told you about the baby.” Sam would never have bolted like Amy’s ex. “But if she’s truly trying to get better for Aiden’s sake?—”
“She has to.” He said it fiercely, his gray eyes flashinga cold, fiery determination. “It wrecked me when my mom checked out on being a parent. I won’t see my son go through that kind of pain.”
“He won’t.” She knew that for certain. “No matter what happens with Aiden’s mom, your son will always have you in his life.”
