The Surprise Holiday Dad. Jacqueline Diamond

to see his son, either. Nervous energy surged through him. My boy. Although he didn’t yet have a sense of Reggie’s personality—how could he?—he felt a connection deep in his gut, a longing that he’d strained for years to deny. He was angry, too, at the woman who’d put him in this position and at himself for yielding.

      How would the little boy react to meeting his dad after all these years? While it might be awkward, he hoped Vicki’s sister had had the decency to prepare her nephew for this major life change.

      He recalled meeting Adrienne only once. She was blond like Vicki and had barely acknowledged the introduction, muttering an excuse about her busy schedule before brushing past him and out of the house. She’d been in her last year of medical school, as he recalled.

      The lawyer had claimed that Adrienne was unaware that her sister had tried to wreck his career and that he’d made regular child-support payments. Maybe, maybe not.

      By two-thirty the laundry was done. Daryl had returned and gone out again to repair a tenant’s sink, so Wade locked the door and went to his car. From the trunk, he withdrew the toy police-station set he’d bought for his son’s birthday. Although it was a few days early, a gift might help to smooth their meeting.

      Relying on memory, he navigated across town toward the Cavill home. Passing his old hangouts—Krazy Kids Pizza, where he’d celebrated childhood birthdays, the Corner Tavern, where he and his fellow officers used to play pool, even the Bull’s Eye Shooting Range—reminded him that he’d accepted his exile too easily. He’d missed this place.

      As Wade left the commercial area and rolled through quiet residential streets, it hit him once again that he was about to meet the most important person in his life. Vicki had, grudgingly, sent a few photographs after Wade threatened to withhold payments. The last one, which he carried in his wallet, showed a boy of about four, blond, with a couple teeth missing. Cute little guy.

      Now the kid was turning six. At that age, Wade had still had his mother, along with a dad who wore a uniform and carried a badge. Although Wade had sensed undercurrents of tension, he’d trusted his parents to take care of him.

      What about Reggie? The kid must have been stunned and overwhelmed when his mom died. Wade was sixteen when he’d lost his own mother in a small-plane crash three years after she and his father divorced. Although she’d moved away and they rarely saw each other, he’d been devastated.

      If only he’d known about Vicki’s death, he’d have rushed down here. Well, he’d do his best to compensate for that now.

      After a couple wrong turns, he found the cul-de-sac. Picking the right house proved harder than expected. There were several two-story Craftsman structures with wide front porches, none of which matched his memory of fading beige paint and a patchy lawn edged by boxy hedges.

      It had to be the one on the left, almost to the end. Wade recognized that row of sash windows on the second floor with a tiny attic window above. The house had been repainted cream with blue trim and the hedges replaced by blooming bird-of-paradise plants interspersed with hibiscus bushes, fronted by a mixture of miniature roses and colorful annual flowers. The doctor took good care of her property.

      From the porch roof hung a bunting banner, each one of its green triangles displaying a picture of a teddy bear. A cluster of green and white balloons fluttered from one of the supports.

      As he parked, he saw a bouncy little girl and her parents stroll toward the front door. There was something familiar about the mother, who had short stick-straight hair and the low-hipped stride of a cop accustomed to wearing a duty belt. When she glanced toward him, Wade recognized her as Patty Hartman, one of his fellow rookie officers from his stint at the local P.D. She carried a wrapped present.

      After making startled eye contact with Wade, Patty waved. He returned the gesture.

      Several more children scampered up the walkway with parents in their wake. They, too, brought gifts.

      Reggie’s birthday might not be until Tuesday, but the aunt had obviously scheduled his party for today. And Wade wasn’t invited.

      Well, he’d just invited himself.

      Chapter Two

      With Anne Murray singing “Teddy Bears’ Picnic” from a boom box on the patio, Adrienne hurried along the outdoor tables, distributing containers of Play-Doh along with teddy-bear molds.

      “I should have done this earlier,” she fretted to Harper Anthony, whose seven-year-old daughter, Mia, was romping with Reggie in the large backyard. “I’m usually better organized.”

      “I’d say you’re remarkably well organized.” That was a high compliment coming from Harper’s fiancé, Peter Gladstone, a gifted teacher and sports coach. He indicated the refreshment table with a tray of cut-up vegetables, the teddy bear–themed yo-yos awaiting the guests and the decorated party hats, plates and gift bags. “This is impressive.”

      “That’s due as much to my friends as to me,” Adrienne protested. Through the kitchen window, she could hear newlyweds Stacy and Cole Rattigan bustling about fixing sandwiches.

      Harper and Stacy had been close friends with Adrienne’s younger sister since junior high. Both nurses, they’d done their best to steer Vicki into treatment for her bipolar disorder and her drinking, and since her death had pitched in to babysit Reggie when his regular sitter wasn’t available. They’d also become Adrienne’s allies and mutual support system.

      Harper, who’d volunteered to take pictures today, snapped the two children as they chased a butterfly. “You seem on edge. Is everything okay?”

      “I’ve noticed that, too,” said Stacy, bringing a bowl of teddy-bear graham crackers from the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

      With guests due to arrive any minute, Adrienne hesitated to spill the news she’d kept to herself all week. But it had to come out sometime. “It’s about the adoption. Reggie’s birth father is contesting it.”

      “What?” Harper stared at her in dismay. “That lowlife?”

      Stacy smacked the bowl onto the table. “Where does he get the nerve?”

      “And if he takes my little boy away, I don’t know what I’ll...” Adrienne broke off.

      “He can’t!” Stacy protested.

      “Unthinkable,” Harper added. “If you need money for a lawyer, we’ll help.”

      “So will we.”

      “Thank you.” Adrienne struggled to regain her composure. “I already have an attorney. Unfortunately, he believes Wade has a case.”

      “What kind of case?” Harper’s eyes narrowed.

      “It turns out Vicki didn’t tell the whole story.” Adrienne explained about the checks and gifts.

      “Sending money isn’t the same as being a father.” Stacy’s hand dropped to her abdomen, visibly enlarged with triplets due in four months. “I don’t know how I’d get through this pregnancy without Cole.”

      “A real dad does whatever it takes to protect his kids,” Harper said. “Look how far Peter was willing to go to have children.”

      A widow with a young daughter, she’d donated eggs so that Peter—himself widowed—could have a child by a surrogate. Unexpectedly, the two had fallen in love and were now due to be parents next June. They’d been overjoyed to learn that the surrogate was carrying twin boys.

      Adrienne glanced toward the interior of the house, expecting to hear the bell, which she’d turned on high for today. No one had arrived yet, though, giving her a few more minutes. “I haven’t even told Reggie his father might be here next week.”

      “When are you planning to break the news?” asked Peter.

      “As soon as Wade actually shows up. He’s driving down from Northern California.”