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Unexpectedly Yours(33)

By:Coleen Kwan


"Huh? You're jealous of that?"

"Exactly. So we're even, right?"

Caleb lifted a shoulder. "Guess so."

Feeling slightly less tense, Derek pushed a stool toward Caleb and  motioned for him to sit. "Didn't think you'd be talking to me so soon.  What happened?"

Caleb pulled a face as he sat. "Amber is what happened. She came over  and gave me hell. That woman is scary when she's all fired up, but she  made me see sense. I apologized to Hannah this morning, and now I'm  apologizing to you." He sighed. "I'm still coming to terms with it all,  but I'm getting there."

Derek nodded as he mulled over everything Caleb had said. "For your  information, Hannah is not in the same class as girls from high school  or Marla Beaudry. She's much more than that."

"Yeah?"

He shied away from the question in Caleb's eyes. "She's always been a  great friend, and I want you to know I'm going to do everything possible  to help with the-the baby."

Caleb nodded. "She could do with a new car."

"I don't just mean money. I mean taking care of the baby itself." Crap, he shouldn't be calling the baby "it," should he?

"You mean like doing the whole diapers and bottles thing?"

"Well, sure." Derek paused, waiting for the familiar ball of panic to  wedge in his throat at the thought of taking care of a helpless child.  But this time it barely registered. He was getting used to the idea of  being a hands-on dad. More than that, he was looking forward to it. Why  else was he designing a crib?

"But how will you do that when you're based in L.A.?"

The house and barn he'd inspected the other day flashed through his  brain. He could give up his TV show, relocate his business here. His  partner could continue to run the retail store in L.A. while Derek  crafted his furniture in Pine Falls. The logistics would be complicated  but nothing he couldn't overcome. Nervous excitement beat in his chest.  But it was way too soon to be making such a big commitment. Especially  when Hannah had more or less told him she didn't want anything from him.  His chest deflated.   





 

"It was just an idea," he muttered.

"No, I think it's a great idea."

"You do?"

"Yeah." Caleb scratched his shoulder. "I'm sure you'd be great at changing diapers and making bottles."

"You really think that?" It mattered to him what his best friend thought.

"I know you, buddy. If you put your mind to something, there's no  stopping you, whether it's getting into trouble or being a dad."

"Thanks." Derek glanced down at his crib sketches so he had a moment to recover. "That means a lot to me."

After a moment's hesitation, they stood, shuffled awkwardly closer, and exchanged slaps and hugs.

"Hey, is that a crib?" Caleb pointed at Derek's sketch as soon as they pulled apart.

Derek nodded. "I've never made one before. Hell, everything's going to be a first for me."

"I'm sure it's gonna be the best crib."

Derek toyed with his pencil for a few seconds, but eventually he had to ask. "Is Hannah okay?"

"I think so." Caleb tapped his fingers on the workbench. "Uh, you guys should probably talk or something."

"I don't think she wants to talk to me." His heartstrings tightened. "She called me an ass."

"She didn't mean it, bro."

"I think she did."

"Aw, hell. This is so screwed up." Caleb's face was a picture of  conflicting emotions. He rubbed his hands over his eyes. "I still can't  believe it. You're going to be a dad."

"Yeah. And you're going to be an uncle."

"Jeez, I am, aren't I? I'll have to watch my language and try not to cuss in front of the kid."

"Yep. You'll have to remember to say ‘butt,' not ‘ass.'"

"And you'll have to give up all those video games. No more GTA in front of the kid."

"That's okay." Derek smiled. "We can play dance games instead."

Now why did he say that? His smile faded as he remembered dancing with  Hannah and Caleb. That carefree night seemed a million years ago.

He shook his head in desperation to dislodge his memories. "Hey, you want a beer?"

"Don't mind if I do."

Derek grabbed a couple of beers from the kitchen and returned to the  garage. They talked about sport and cars and work. It was the kind of  conversation they'd had hundreds of times before, and Derek was glad of  it. They still had a ways to go before they were easy with each other  again, but at least he hadn't lost Caleb altogether. An hour later,  Caleb got up to go.

"When are you leaving?" Caleb asked at the front door.

"Tomorrow." Derek couldn't help grimacing. He didn't want to think about tomorrow. The sick feeling welled up again.

Caleb nodded. "I'll talk to you later." He left with a wave.



After Caleb had left, Derek shut the garage and returned to the house.  The silence indicated Otto was still napping. He moved into the living  room and dropped into an armchair, feeling heavy and beaten.

The past weighed down on him. This living room hadn't changed much since  his mom had dumped him here. Same green wallpaper, same old-fashioned  bookcases, same stacks of TV guides and car magazines. He'd never paid  much attention to this room, but now he looked around him with new eyes.

He'd have to tell Otto about the baby, preferably before Derek left,  since he didn't want Otto finding out from others. He wasn't looking  forward to it. How did you have a sensitive conversation with a grouchy  grandfather who didn't like chatting?

Hannah's advice about old folks and photo albums came to mind. It made  sense, but did Otto even keep photo albums? Derek's gaze caught on the  bottom row of the bookcase where there was one solitary photo album. He  got up and pulled it out. Funny how he'd spent years in this house and  never noticed it before. Maybe Otto had kept it hidden and only brought  it out once Derek had left home.

He flipped open the album. The photos were old and dusty. A  black-and-white picture of a young boy in suspenders. It was Otto, age  around five or six. Some photos of people he didn't know. A young couple  on their wedding day-Otto and Shirley, Derek's grandmother. More people  he didn't know. Then Shirley with a toddler on her lap. That must be  Lorne, his father, Derek thought. They shared the same eyes, the same  dark hair that wouldn't lie flat.

There were more pictures of Lorne showing his progress from child to  man. From the photos of football and swimming teams, he seemed a good  sportsman. He also seemed popular with women. Derek squinted at the  girls in the photos, but none of them were his mom. There wasn't even a  picture of their wedding day, though that was probably because it was a  shotgun wedding in Reno and Otto hadn't been invited.   





 

He turned the final page and found a single photo of Lorne with a child,  a boy of about two or three. Lorne was in the act of throwing the boy  up in the air, and they were both laughing at each other, the bond  between them unmistakable. Derek and his dad.

Derek traced his fingers over the photo. His chest filled and filled until he felt like he'd burst apart.

"That's you. You and your dad."

He whirled around to find Otto standing at the entrance of the living  room. Otto didn't appear to be angry at him for looking through the  photo album. The old man moved forward, his walking stick clomping on  the carpet.

"I didn't hear you wake up," Derek said, feeling weirdly disconnected from reality.

Otto eased himself into his usual armchair. "Never thought you'd be interested in those old photos."

"I never was, but now … " He shrugged. "What was my dad like?"

"Your dad?" Otto seemed startled by the question. He tapped his fingers  on the arm of the chair. "Well, he was a good student and good at  sports, and sometimes he was a handful." Otto sighed and pulled at his  fingers. "Wish I could've been a better father."

Derek sat up. He'd never heard Otto talk about being a father before, and he was dying of curiosity. "Why do you say that?"

"I was away a lot, and I left the bulk of the raising to poor Shirley.  She was a saint. She knew I wasn't too good at the father stuff." Otto  eyed Derek warily from beneath his bushy brows. "My own father was a  brute. Caned me every chance he got."

Derek started. "That must've been tough."

Otto shrugged. "Back then, plenty of fathers caned their boys." He  leaned forward. "But I want you to know I never hit my boy, not once."

His grandfather was telling the truth. Otto might be blunt, but he was  always honest. Derek nodded, not wanting to say anything, as he hoped  Otto would continue.

"I didn't want to use the cane." Otto prodded his walking stick at the  carpet. "Sometimes, when I was at my wits' end with Lorne and the urge  was so strong, the only thing to do was to stay away. So that's what I  did. And being in the army didn't help. I neglected the boy, that's for  sure."