Emma giggled. “Aw, no you’re not. Actually, you remind me a lot of my mother’s father. He’s really been more of a father figure to me after my father died. Granddaddy is very traditional and old-fashioned. And pretty easy going until you mess with his family.”
“He sounds like my kind of man.”
“I think you two would get along very well. He shared your same questions and concerns when he learned I was unmarried and pregnant.” Emma twisted the napkin in her lap. “Actually, he had quite a few choice words for me.”
Aidan experienced a twinge of protectiveness at Emma’s discomfort. “You didn’t tell me that.”
“Everything is okay now. In fact, he’s really creative when it comes to woodworking, and he’s carving the baby a rocking horse.”
“That’s a nice way to make amends,” Patrick mused.
Emma smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Patrick appeared thoughtful. Then he stood up. “Come, Emma, there’s something I’d like you and the baby to have.”
He held out his hand, and Emma smiled, slipping hers into his. Aidan watched as he pulled her out of the dining room chair and led her down the hall. He sat stunned, still unbelieving the effect Emma had on his father. Aidan hadn’t seen him so animated in months. It was like she had brought a piece of him that was dead back to life—something not even he or his sisters had been able to do.
Curiosity caused him to rise from his chair and seek them out. He found them in his parent’s bedroom. Emma stood in the middle of the room, peering intently at the walk-in closet. Shuffling noises came from within, and Aidan heard his father curse softly. Finally, Patrick appeared with a yellowed box faded with time, a beaming smile on his face. “For my grandson,” he said, handing Emma the box.
She swept her free hand to her hip and challenged, “And what if it is a girl?”
“Trust me on this one.” When Emma huffed in protest, Patrick laughed. “All right, all right. It will work for my granddaughter as well.”
Emma opened the box’s lid. Aidan leaned forward as she gently pulled away the tissue paper. A little cry escaped her lips. Gently, she pulled out a white baby’s gown with intricate lace and pearls. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s Aidan’s christening gown,” Patrick said.
Aidan sucked in a breath. His father’s words coupled with Emma holding a piece of past made him feel like he had been punched in the gut. If there was any doubt how his father felt about Emma and their child, it was cemented by the tiny gown in her hands. He wasn’t entirely sure he was ready for this level of emotion and commitment. “Dad, Emma’s not even Catholic,” Aidan protested.
Without taking his eyes off Emma, Patrick shook his head. “She might humor me and have the baby Christened though.”
Emma nibbled on her bottom lip. “The truth is I’m Baptist.” At Patrick’s sharp intake of breath, she held up her hand. “But considering you and Aidan are Catholic and the baby will be half Catholic, I suppose I could. If it meant a lot to you.”
A broad smile formed on Patrick’s face. “It sure would.”
“Then I would be honored.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Patrick embraced Emma, squeezing her tight. “Thank you most of all for being such a beautiful light in the world…and in my son’s life.”
Aidan stared at his father in horror. Had he lost his mind? Emma wasn’t a light in his life…was she? He tried ignoring the tears sparkling in Emma’s green eyes when she pulled out of Patrick’s arms. She kissed him tenderly on the cheek. “Thank you for wanting to be a part of my baby’s life.”
The continued exchange of emotions between his father and Emma made it feel like all the air in the room had been sucked out. Simply breathing in and out made his chest feel like a Sumo wrestler was pressing down on him. A beautiful light in my son’s life kept replaying over and over again in his mind.
Deep down inside him, a little voice agreed with his father. Emma made him burn with desire one minute and laugh the next. The way she interacted with Beau and his nephews tugged at his heart. She was the kind of woman if he got physically sick, she would be there to nurse him through it, and if he fell on hard times emotionally, she would be his rock.
How had he been so f**king blind?
Aidan’s gaze wildly scanned the room. No, he just needed to get out of his parent’s bedroom, out his father’s house, and then maybe he would be able to think.
He cleared his throat. “I hate to be a party pooper, but we really need to get going. I’ve got a lot to take care of after being gone the last month.”
Patrick nodded. “I understand, son. I’m just so glad you came by.” He smiled at Emma. “That you both came by.”
It took Aidan a moment before he was able to say, “So am I.”
Emma clutched the Christening gown to her chest as she trailed Patrick out of the bedroom. Aidan followed close on their heels. “Now that we’re acquainted, there’s no reason for you to be a stranger. You know where I live, so you don’t have to rely on Aidan to bring you by.”
Jesus, two hours with the girl, and his father was already giving Emma full access to come over whenever she felt like it. For all he knew, his father would get down all the family photo albums or his old high school yearbooks to entertain Emma with. What a nightmare.
Patrick gave Emma a final hug before turning to Aidan. “Don’t be a stranger.”
“I’ll try.”
As Emma started down the porch steps, Patrick grabbed Aidan’s arm. “Will you at least try to consider some of the things we talked about?” he asked, in a hushed whisper.
“I’ll try, Pop. I really will.”
Patrick smiled. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Emma slipped into the passenger seat as Aidan jogged down the front walk. When he slid inside the car, he exhaled a long, ragged breath. Emma turned and gave him a tentative smile. “That was…interesting.”
“You could say that,” he replied, cranking up.
After he pulled out of the driveway, he glanced over to see Emma running her fingers over the fabric of the Christening gown. “I bet you were adorable wearing this,” she remarked.
“No, I’ve seen the pictures. I look like a chubby little pansy wearing a dress.”
“You could never look like a pansy,” she teased.