Matt was nervous. It killed him to admit it, but there was no denying it was true. His hands were sweating, and he was nauseous. Toby was going to show up soon, and Matt wasn’t ready to see his mother.
Matt was no slob, but he’d gone on a cleaning spree that even Ethan commented on.
“Why are you scrubbing the floor, Uncle Matt?”
“It’s called spring cleaning, bud.”
“Oh.”
He put Ethan to work, giving him a wet rag and having him wipe the baseboards. Matt had made it a game in the beginning, but the five-year-old quickly lost interest, so he’d let him loose on a clean load of towels, a job that always seemed to keep the boy’s interest.
“Mommy never let me fold towels,” Ethan said as he folded a bath towel into a wadded mess. “She says I don’t do it right.”
“There’s no such thing as folding towels a wrong way in a bachelor house,” Matt said with a grin. “Anything goes.”
“A bachelor house?”
“A house where single guys live.”
“Just like us, Uncle Matt!”
“Yeah,” Matt said, not nearly as excited as his nephew. “Just like us.”
“Have you ever had a puppy, Uncle Matt?”
“A puppy? Yeah, when I was a kid.”
“Like me?”
“Yeah. I think I was seven when we got him. His name was Pepper because he was all black.” Matt hadn’t thought of his childhood pet in ages.
“Did you have to feed him?”
Matt laughed. “I had to feed him and walk him, not that I minded most of the time. I loved that little guy. But your mom had to take turns with me to clean up his poop.”
Ethan giggled. “Eww!”
“Dogs poop. You don’t want to step in it, do you?”
“Do you like dogs, Uncle Matt?”
“Yeah. I love them.”
“Then how come you don’t have a dog now?”
That question had a difficult answer. “I was waiting.”
“What for?”
A family. When he thought about being married and having a family, he always pictured the dog. He’d loved having a dog when he was growing up, and taking care of Pepper had taught him responsibility. He wanted his kids to have a dog, too. But the sad truth was he was thirty-four years old and things hadn’t worked out the way he’d planned. Sure, he didn’t have the family he’d hoped for, but he had Ethan. And he had a house. Maybe it was time for him to stop waiting for what he’d hoped for and embrace what he had.
Matt tilted his head and gave Ethan a long look. “You know, come to think of it, I’m not sure what I’m waiting for.”
“Mommy won’t let me have a dog. She says she doesn’t want to take care of the mess.”
“Dogs are a big responsibility,” Matt said. “Your mommy’s busy learning how to be a doctor. That’s a big responsibility, too.”
Ethan frowned. “I guess…” Then a hopeful look lit up his face. “Can we get a dog, Uncle Matt? Please?”
The way Ethan included himself in the decision with his we warmed Matt’s chest. “Since dogs are a big responsibility, I think we should give it serious consideration first.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed. “What does ‘serious consideration’ mean?”
“It means we need to think long and hard about whether we want to take on the responsibility of a dog. Once we get one, we can’t return it. We have to promise to be his owner no matter what.”
“No matter what,” Ethan parroted, but he seemed to be pondering Matt’s words with a frown. Was he thinking about the father he hadn’t seen in nearly two years?
Matt glanced down at the towels, which were now piled into wads, and grinned. “Good job folding. Now let’s put them away.”
After they’d put the towels in the linen closet, Ethan ran in place as he asked, “How much longer till Toby gets here?”
Matt pulled out his phone and his throat constricted. Twelve fifty-eight. “Any time now.”
Ethan let out an excited squeal and ran into the living room, then pressed his nose into the window overlooking the front yard.
“That’s not going to make him come any sooner,” Matt said with a nervous laugh as he put the clothes basket in the laundry room.
Jesus, he was a mess. Why was he letting this woman have so much control over him? He had to stop obsessing over the fact that Anna Fischer was going to be standing on his doorstep any minute. No, she went by Annaliese Robins now, according to Toby’s registration paperwork. Had she started using “Annaliese” after she’d moved to London? She’d told him she thought her name was pretentious. Had she lied about that, too? He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she’d gotten married and had a kid.
But one thing was certain—her recent reappearance had made him take a long, hard look at his own life.
It was hard to admit he’d put part of his life on hold, especially when it was obvious Anna hadn’t. Maybe he should give serious thought to getting a dog. He worked long hours with his commercial construction business, but he could install a pet door so the dog could let itself out during the day to go outside and do his business. Plus, Matt was home most evenings and weekends. Now that Tyler and Kevin were married and he had Ethan full-time, he saw his best friends even less. There’d been a lot fewer nights out at the Power and Light District and hanging out on Sunday afternoons to drink beer and watch whatever game was on TV.
“He’s here, Uncle Matt! He’s here!” Ethan shouted, and Matt heard the front door open.
Crap. He hadn’t locked the deadbolt.
“Ethan! Don’t go outside.” But when Matt rounded the corner, the front door was standing wide open, and Ethan was already in the middle of the yard, hugging Toby.
Matt descended the front porch steps and walked toward the boys as Anna got out of the car. She stood a foot away from her open door and watched the boys with a frown.
A wave of defensiveness washed through Matt. He hadn’t let their past bleed into his feelings for her son; could she do the same with his nephew? But then he noticed that sadness filled her eyes, not disdain. Did she have regrets? Or was she sad that her son was friends with someone tied to Matt?
She glanced up at him and every nerve in his body became tightly strung. Her blond hair was loose and hung in soft waves that rested just above her shoulders and framed her face. She was dressed in jeans and a gray scoop-neck, long-sleeved T-shirt that showed off her curves, and damn did she have curves. He forced his gaze up to her face before she realized he’d been checking her out.
Toby and Ethan broke up their hug fest and Ethan asked, “Did you bring your soccer ball and shin guards?”
Toby’s smile fell.
Anna looked worried. “I can go home and get them.”
“No need,” Matt said as he moved closer and put a hand on Ethan’s shoulder. “I doubt we’ll need shin guards, and I’ve got plenty of balls.” Remembering Tuesday night’s practice fiasco, he added. “Soccer balls.”
A smile ghosted her lips. “Thanks for clarifying.” Then just as quickly, her smile disappeared. “Thanks again for letting Toby come over. He’s been so excited he could hardly sleep last night.”
“Ethan, too.”
He could see the questions in her eyes. Why did he spend so much time with his nephew? Why wasn’t he married with kids of his own? He wasn’t about to go there. Not now. Not ever.
“Do you want to come in and look everything over?” he asked. “Did you do a background check?” He was partly joking, but the mother of one of Ethan’s pals had gone overboard with her paranoia when she brought her son over for his first playdate. “I really don’t mind.”
Her face softened. “I trust you, Matt.”
Somehow that was even worse.
She sucked in a breath, making her chest rise, and he resisted the urge to watch more closely, forcing his eyes to remain on her clear blue ones. Watching her now, all he could think about was the life he’d imagined for them, and how she’d just thrown it away.
“Do you still want me to pick him up at four?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
She hesitated then crossed her arms over her chest. “You have my number so feel free to call me if you need me to come early or something comes up or…” She paused and Matt could sense she was anxious. “This is the first time I’ve left him since we came back.”
Matt was pissed all over again about what she’d done to them in the past, but this was the present and she was a worried mother. He wanted to put her concerns at ease. “If Toby asks for you before four, I’ll give you a call. I’d hate for him to not want to come back. Ethan’s already planning their next playdate.”
Relief washed over her face. “Thank you. I was worried you would…I can understand how this would be difficult.”
Anger burned in his gut. He glanced over to make sure the boys, who had moved closer to the door, were out of earshot. “The past is in the past, Anna. I sure as hell would never hurt or traumatize your son to get back at you.”
She looked stricken, and he regretted being so harsh.
He ran a hand over his head, suddenly wondering if this was a bad idea after all. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I do. And so much more. I trust you, Matt. Toby wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.” Turning on her heels, she got into her car and shut the door.
Matt realized she hadn’t told Toby good-bye, and when she started to back out of the driveway, Toby’s eyes widened. He glanced up at Matt.
“Do you want to tell your mom good-bye?”
Toby watched her pull out into the street then she stopped and rolled down the window, giving Toby a warm smile. “You have the bestest afternoon, okay?”
He nodded. “Yes, Mummy.”
“I love you,” she said as her smile lit up her entire face.
Toby’s shoulders relaxed, but Matt’s gut tightened. She used to smile at him just like that years ago.
* * *
An hour later Matt was in his backyard, watching Ethan and Toby run around the orange cones while kicking their miniature soccer balls. Poor Toby lacked some coordination, but he’d been concentrating hard as he tried to control the ball.
“You’re getting better, Toby,” Matt said. “Are you sure you haven’t played before?”
Toby got to the end of the line of cones then glanced over at him. “This is only my second time, Coach Matt.”
“Wow. With improvement this quick, next thing you know, you’ll be trying out for the Arsenals.”
Toby scrunched up his nose. “Who?”
Matt shook his head. “Never mind. Who’s ready for a snack?”
“Me! Me!” both boys shouted.
“Then leave your balls there and let’s head inside. Ethan, show Toby where he can wash his hands.”
“Yes, sir,” Ethan said then ran inside with Toby on his heels.
Matt followed them through the door to the kitchen, then paused as he grabbed an apple from the counter. He hadn’t asked Anna if her son was allergic to anything. He considered calling her, but decided to ask Toby first.
The boys came barreling down the hall in their excitement, and Matt couldn’t hide his smile. He hadn’t seen Ethan this excited in months, and it warmed his chest to see him so happy.
“Toby, are you allergic to anything?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“I was going to cut up some apples and give you peanut butter to dip them in. You’re sure you’re not allergic to peanut butter?”
“Of course he’s not, sillyhead,” Ethan said with a laugh. “He’d have to sit at the peanut-free table if he was.”
“There’s a peanut-free table at school?”
“Yeah,” Ethan said like he was a fool for not knowing. “Duh.”
Matt’s eyebrows rose. “Saying ‘duh’ isn’t polite. We’ve discussed that before.”
Ethan’s chin dropped to his chest. “Sorry, Uncle Matt.”
“It’s okay. Now let me cut up those apples.”
“How come we can’t have chips like Wesley’s mom gave us at his house?”
“Because chips aren’t healthy. They don’t make you grow.”
“That’s not what Ms. Peterman said to Ms. Murphy at recess,” Toby said, taking a drink from the cup of water Matt handed him. “She says too many chips will make you fat. Only she was talking about the other kind.”
“What other kind?” Ethan asked. “Tortilla chips?”
Toby shook his head. “No, not the kind that come from bags. The other kind.”
Ethan looked confused. “You mean the ones in the cans?”
Toby looked frustrated, but Matt put a plate in front of him and said, “Ethan, I think the problem is that ‘chips’ mean something else in England. I suspect Toby’s talking about what we call French fries. Is that right?”
Toby nodded with relief.
“That’s just dumb,” Ethan said. “Why would they call it the wrong thing?”
“Who says it’s wrong?” Matt asked. “I’m sure they think we’re wrong. And we don’t tell our friends that something’s dumb.”
Ethan scowled but pressed on. “If they call French fries chips, what do they call real chips?”
“Crisps.”
Ethan laughed and looked at Toby. “You say things weird there.”
Matt was about to intervene but Toby laughed. “You say things weird here.”
They spent the next five minutes discussing different words in England versus the United States while Matt cut up apple slices and scooped peanut butter onto their plates. His mother would have tossed the boys a bag of chips and cans of soda, turned on the TV, and been done with it. But that’s not how he would have raised his kids, so that wasn’t how he was going to raise Ethan.
He paused, his spoon still on Ethan’s plate. He wasn’t Ethan’s father, yet he’d been deciding a lot of rules for raising Ethan and it made him uncomfortable. Those decisions were supposed to be made by Abby, but she wasn’t around and someone had to make them.
“Uncle Matt makes the best spaghetti,” Ethan said as he scooped his apple slice into his peanut butter. “Maybe you can eat over sometime.”
“Yeah,” Toby said, looking down at his plate.
Was he missing his mother? While Ethan was full of bravado now, when Abby had left last summer and then again after Christmas, Ethan went through some separation anxiety. Talking about Abby and reminding him she still loved him had seemed to help. “What’s your favorite dinner?” Matt asked. “What’s your favorite thing that your mother makes you?”
“Nanny Maureen makes my favorite dinner,” Toby said. “Bangers and mash. But when Mummy cooks, she makes me fish fingers.”
Anna had a nanny?
“Fish fingers?” Ethan giggled. “Fish don’t have fingers.”
Toby stuck out his bottom lip. “Some fish do.”
“No they don’t,” Ethan said. “They have fins, not fingers.”
“Ethan,” Matt said in a stern voice.
Ethan stopped and realized Toby was unhappy then looked up at Matt in confusion. “But it’s true.”
“We just had an entire discussion about people in England having different names for things. Maybe that’s the case here.”
“Oh.”
“In fact,” Matt continued, “I bet fish fingers are the same things as fish sticks.”
“That’s what my grandad calls them,” Toby said. “He says the house stinks to high heaven when Mummy cooks them.”
Matt waited for Ethan to comment on the fact Toby called his mother Mummy, but thankfully he let it pass.
“So your favorite food is fish fingers—”
“And chips,” Toby added before he took a bite of his apple. “Fish fingers and chips. The hot kind, not the crispy ones. Mummy lets me line them up on the baking sheet. Nanny Maureen won’t make them. She says they are processed food.”
“Is your nanny like the ones in the movies? Is she mean?” Ethan asked. “Does she live in the attic of your house?”
“I don’t have a house,” Toby said. “We live on floor twenty-one. I can see the river from my bedroom because we’re so high.”
“You live in an apartment?” Ethan asked. “Like on those shows on TV?”
“Mummy calls it a condo. And Nanny Maureen comes in the morning to take me to school, then she brings me home and makes me a snack and helps me with my homework. She’s nice.”
“What about your dad?” Ethan asked. “Do you get two birthday parties and two Christmases? Wesley said it’s the best part of a divorce, but my daddy hasn’t started yet.”
Matt’s heart skipped a beat. He had no idea his nephew had been waiting for his father to start fulfilling his parenting job. Knowing Abby’s ex, Ethan would be waiting a long time. One more heartbreak for the boy to deal with.
Toby shrugged. “No. I don’t see my dad. You’re lucky you have Uncle Matt. I only have my grumpy grandad.”
Anna was a single mom in the truest sense. Did the deadbeat pay child support? Part of him said he should feel vindicated Anna’s relationship had failed, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel any happiness. Not when a child was caught in the middle.
Toby started telling Ethan about his school—that he’d been going there since he was three and he wore uniforms. Ethan listened like Toby was telling him some crazy tale, but Matt wondered more about Toby’s father. The man Anna had chosen to have a child with.
“Do you see your other grandparents?” Matt asked before he could stop himself.
Toby’s gaze moved to Matt’s. The color of his blue eyes—a bright cornflower—were just like his mother’s. Even the set of his mouth when he concentrated on something reminded him of Anna. He was very much his mother’s son. “No.”
No father or grandparents part of Toby’s life…was Anna home for good? And why did his heart trip at the thought? Matt began to wonder about things he had no business wondering.