Unforgettable (Cloverleigh Farms #5)(86)

“Cecily!” Robin scolded. “How many times have I asked you not to do that? And I thought you were going to stay in your room.”

“I changed my mind,” she said with a shrug. “I had FOMO.”

“This is Chip’s sister, Cecily,” Robin said, giving her daughter a stern look. “She’s eleven.”

“Eleven and three-quarters,” Cecily clarified.

Chip poked her on the shoulder. “No one cares about the three-quarters, CeCe.”

She gave him a dirty look. “I do.”

“Why don’t we all sit down?” Robin suggested. “If you’ll just give me one minute, I’ve got some cookies and coffee made.”

“Of course,” I said, barely able to take my eyes off Chip. He was so like Tyler at that age, from his coloring to the height to the way he stood. But I could see the Sawyer in him too.

While Robin was in the kitchen, Tyler asked Chip about the team’s last few games, and I was grateful I could just listen for a few minutes. When she returned, I was glad to take a warm coffee cup in my hands, which felt twitchy. It was Chip who put me at ease.

“So I hear you went to Central High too,” he said, meeting my eyes. It was apparent within minutes that he was not only handsome but also confident, humble, good-natured, and mature.

He was naturally curious and asked a lot of questions about growing up at Cloverleigh Farms, wondering if he could see it sometime, expressing astonishment at the number of siblings I had.

“Four sisters?” he asked, glancing at Cecily, who grinned impishly from her perch on the piano bench. “I wouldn’t survive.”

I laughed. “It was a crowded house, but a nice way to grow up. I’d be glad to show you around sometime. All of you. My family would love that.”

“Does your mom know about Chip?” asked Cecily, taking a bite of her cookie.

“Cecily,” Robin said, giving her daughter a look.

“It’s okay,” I said, smiling at the precocious little girl. She reminded me of Chloe at that age—no filter. “She does. And she’d really like to meet him—and you too.”

Cecily grinned. “Are there horses at your farm?”

“There are,” I told her.

“Could I ride one?”

“Sure.”

Her face lit up.

“So I hear you took the offer from Clemson,” said Tyler.

“I did.” Chip smiled. “Thanks again for all the advice.”

“Any idea what you might study there?” I asked.

“I’m not sure yet, but maybe environmental engineering.”

“Hey, who is Chip’s biological dad?” asked Cecily, out of nowhere.

“Cecily!” This time Robin’s tone was sharper.

“What, I’m just curious. You said you never knew, but she’s got to know. Right?”

There was an awkward silence during which I wasn’t sure what to say—Robin appeared mortified, and Chip looked like he sort of wished the earth would open up and swallow him. But rather than panic, I took it as an invitation from the universe to speak up. I exchanged a quick glance with Tyler, who gave me a nod and took my hand.

“Actually,” I said, sitting up a little straighter, “I do know.” I met Robin’s eyes and then Chip’s. “This wasn’t something I ever planned on sharing, but I’m at a point in my life where I’d like to be more open about . . . everything.”

Crickets.

Their faces were a mixture of confusion and expectancy, but I saw hope and excitement too—or at least that’s what I chose to believe.

I cleared my throat. “Okay, so, as you know, Chip, I was very young when I had you. Just eighteen. And your, um, biological dad was young too. We were just good friends, and the pregnancy was a bit of a shock for both of us.”

“You didn’t use protection,” stated Cecily matter-of-factly, swinging her feet below the piano bench. “We learned about that in sex ed this year. They call it Adolescent Health”—she made air quotes around the words—“but we all know what it is.”

“Oh, my Lord.” Robin shook her head. “Cecily Carswell, could you please button your lip? I’m so sorry, April. We do not have to discuss this.”

“It’s okay.” I laughed nervously, suddenly grateful for Cecily’s presence. “She’s right. We weren’t careful. And by the time I realized I was pregnant, I was already away at college, and he’d been drafted.”

“To the Army?” asked Robin with some confusion.

I shook my head. “To the major leagues,” I said, watching the shock overtake Chip’s face. “He was a baseball player. In fact, he was a lefty pitcher.”

Chip’s jaw hung wide open as he looked back and forth between Tyler and me, putting it together. “Oh my God. It’s you, isn’t it?”

Tyler nodded and swallowed. “Yes.”

“What?” Robin’s voice was shocked.

“Holy shit. Holy shit.” Chip glanced at Robin. “Sorry, Mom.”

“It’s okay.” She looked at us, her face a jumble of emotions. Mostly shock. “I’m just—I can’t quite—Tyler is Chip’s biological father?”