The Proposition (The Proposition #1)(49)
“Shit, Pop, I said not a word!” Aidan exclaimed as Emma’s eyes widened as big as saucers.
“You told him?” she demanded.
Patrick shook his head. “Now don’t be getting upset with him. I’m the one who guessed it. When my late wife was pregnant with Aidan, she suffered terribly with morning sickness—well, we jokingly called it the all day sickness because it wasn’t just regulated to the morning. And smells bothered her something terrible.”
Emma clutched her abdomen. “It’s awful.”
“If I were a betting man, I’d put good money on you’re carrying a boy. After all, my wife only experienced what she did with Aidan.”
Emma gave a dreamy smile. “A boy would be wonderful, but I’ll just as happy with a girl—as long as he or she is healthy is all that matters.”
Patrick patted her hand. “Oh, but you need a boy. That way the Fitzgerald family name will go on.” He turned to Aidan. “You are planning on giving the baby your last name, aren’t you?”
“Jesus Christ, Pop! Lighten up.”
“I’m a staunch Irish Catholic, son, I’m not going to ease up on the legitimacy of my grandchild.”
Aidan felt the blood draining from his face. He immediately reached for his glass and knocked back the rest of the Scotch. At his father’s continued scrutiny, he shifted in his chair. “Well, Emma and I haven’t discussed it.”
“Don’t you want to carry on our family’s name?” Patrick turned his intense gaze on Emma. “I was the only son of my parents, and I had only one son. I have five grandsons and a great-grandson, yet our name will die out with Aidan.”
“Oh come on, Pop, it’s not like I’ll be the last Fitzgerald ever. Granddad Fitz had seven brothers!” Aidan argued.
Patrick crossed his arms over his chest in a huff. “Fine then. If you won’t give the baby your name, I’ll give him mine!”
When Emma squeaked across from him, Aidan knew she was upset by the overt tension between the two strong-willed men facing off. “Would you please knock it off? You’re freaking Em out.”
Patrick’s expression immediately softened. “Emma, I’m so sorry if I offended or upset you. I’m fiercely protective of my family, and now that you’re carrying my grandchild, you’re a part of that.”
Aidan watched as Emma’s expression turned from apprehension to positively beaming. “That’s very sweet of you to care so much. My baby will be very lucky to have you as a grandfather.” She drew in a breath. “But before I got pregnant, Aidan and I set very clear parameters on what his role would be.”
“So you object to the baby having his name?” Patrick demanded.
“Well, no…I mean, I wouldn’t mind.” Before Aidan could stop himself, he glowered across the table at Emma. She quickly shook her head. “But I don’t want to pressure Aidan into anything. No offense, Patrick, but you’re kind of putting him on the spot. I don’t want Aidan to feel uncomfortable.”
Patrick harrumphed and leaned back in his chair. “Fine then. I’m just an old fashioned, out of touch, old fart!”
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.”