What Makes A Father. Teresa Southwick

time he’d been here, he was less than pleased about not being informed that he might be a father. Annie couldn’t really blame him and wondered if he was still resentful.

      “Getting to know each other is probably a good idea,” she agreed. “I was going to have a quick bite to eat while Charlie and Sarah are sleeping. It’s just leftovers but you’re welcome to join me.”

      “Thanks. What can I do to help?”

      “Set the table, I guess.” She wasn’t used to having help; it was nice. “I’m going to throw together a salad and I have cold fried chicken. I’ll nuke some macaroni and cheese.” She pointed out the cupboard with the plates and the drawer containing utensils. Napkins were a no-brainer, right in plain sight in a holder on her circular oak table.

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “One thing about me you should know right now,” Annie said as she put prewashed, bagged lettuce into a bowl. “Never call me ‘ma’am.’ It makes me feel like I need help crossing the street.”

      “Understood.” He set two plates on the table. “So what should I call you? Miss Campbell?”

      “Annie works.” She put dressing on the greens and handed him the bowl containing long-handled serving spoons. “Toss this, please.”

      “Yes, ma—” He looked sheepish. “Sorry. I’m a civilian now.”

      “I guess you can take the man out of the military but you can’t take the military out of the man.” She felt a little zing in her chest when she looked at him and struggled for something to say. “So, you were in the army.”

      “Yes. I enlisted.”

      She put a casserole dish in the microwave and pushed the reheat button. “Why?”

      “I wanted to go to medical school and couldn’t afford it. My parents wanted to help, but it’s a steep price tag and I didn’t want them taking out a second mortgage or going into debt. It was the best way to get where I wanted to go without putting a strain on them. When I got my MD, I owed the military four years. The upside is that I was able to serve my country while paying back the government.”

      Watching him toss the heck out of that lettuce, Annie realized a couple of things. He was way above average-looking and it wasn’t as hard to talk to him as she’d thought. Although, he was the one doing the talking. With a little luck he wouldn’t notice that she hadn’t revealed anything about herself yet.

      Keep the conversation on him. She could do this. She was a grown woman now, not the geeky loner she’d once been. “So now you’re a doctor.”

      “That’s the rumor. Also known as an emergency medical specialist.” He stopped tossing the salad. “I’ve started my job at Huntington Hills Memorial Hospital. Just so you know I’m not a deadbeat dad.”

      “I didn’t think you were.”

      “Just wanted to clarify.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “This kind of feels like a job interview. Maybe the most important one I’ll ever have.”

      “I hadn’t thought about it that way. And it doesn’t matter what I think,” she said. “You are their biological father. Time will tell if you can be a dad.”

      The expression on his face didn’t exactly change but his eyes turned a darker navy blue, possibly with disapproval. “Spoken like a true skeptic.”

      “I am and there are reasons.”

      “You’re not the only one. Your sister wasn’t going to tell me I’m a father.”

      Annie got his meaning. He was wondering if keeping the truth from a man was a shared family trait. Part of her wanted to remind him she was the reason her sister made the daddy candidate list. Part of her respected his skepticism about her. More often than not people let you down and the only way to protect yourself was to expect the worst. So, yay him.

      “That was wrong of Jessica. In her defense, I’d like to point out that she was taking steps to do the right thing. It’s not her fault that she couldn’t see it through.”

      “Look, Annie, I didn’t mean—”

      “Sure you did,” she interrupted. “And you’re not wrong. So this isn’t a job interview as much as it’s about finding a way to work together for the sake of those babies.”

      He thought for a moment. “Can’t argue with that.”

      “Okay.” The microwave beeped so she pulled out the casserole dish and stirred the macaroni and cheese, then put it back in for another minute. “So you have family here in Huntington Hills?”

      “Parents and siblings,” he confirmed.

      “How many siblings?”

      “Two brothers and a sister.”

      Annie felt the loss of her sister every day and not just because of caring for the twins. No one knew her like Jess had. They’d shared the same crappy childhood and her big sis had run interference at home and at school. She’d always had Annie’s back—no matter what.

      “You’re lucky to have a big family.”

      “I know you’re right, but I’m looking forward to having a place of my own,” he said.

      “Don’t tell me.” She grinned. “You’re a man in his thirties living with his mother. You know what they say about that.”

      “No. And I don’t want to know. Besides, it’s not as bad as you make it sound.” He smiled and the corners of his eyes crinkled in an appealing way.

      “There’s no way to make it sound good.”

      “I guess technically I live with my parents here in town. I sold my house before going to Afghanistan. I’m just staying with the folks until I can find a place of my own.” His smile disappeared and there was a shadow in his eyes, something he wasn’t saying.

      And she didn’t ask. The microwave beeped again and she retrieved the dish and set it on the table. “Okay, then. That makes it a whole lot less weird.”

      “Good.”

      “Dinner is served.”

      They sat across from each other and filled their plates. Well, he did. A couple pieces of chicken with a healthy portion of macaroni and cheese. He dug in as if he hadn’t eaten in a week.

      He finished a piece of chicken and set the bone on his plate. “So, what about you?”

      “Me?”

      “Yeah. I’ve monopolized the conversation. Now it’s your turn.”

      She really didn’t like talking about herself. “What do you want to know?”

      “Do you have a job?”

      “Other than caring for the twins?” She realized he had no frame of reference yet for how that was a full-time job. “I’m a graphic designer.”

      “I see.” There was a blank look in his eyes.

      “You have no idea what I do, right?”

      “Not a clue,” he admitted. “I was going to wait until you were busy with something else and Google it on my phone.”

      He was honest, she thought. That was refreshing. “Let me save you the trouble. I create a visual concept, either with computer software or sketches by hand, to communicate an idea.”

      “So, advertising.”

      “Yes. But more. Clients are looking for an overall layout and production design for brochures, magazines and corporate reports, too.”

      “So, you’re artistic.”

      “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, I guess. But I can honestly say that I’ve always loved to draw.” She didn’t