Patchwork Paradise(67)

I caught Thomas leaning against the doorframe, watching me with a small grin on his face. “Don’t stop,” he said, waving at me. “I think I’m learning something here.”

I stuck out my tongue at him, but damn, he looked delicious. I pretty much forgot what I’d been about to say. He was wearing knee-length shorts and a soft, red V-neck shirt that showed a hint of his chest hair. I wanted to lay him down and feed him strawberries and lick the flavor from his everything.

“Guh,” Milo said, and I did a double take.

“He totally said ‘grape,’” I told Thomas. I bent down and bumped Milo’s fist. “You awesome, clever little dude.”

Thomas came up behind me and hugged me tight. “He did not say ‘grape.’”

“Yes, he did, you party pooper. Don’t you listen to your dad,” I told Milo. “You said ‘grape.’ I heard you.”



I didn’t know what to expect from the clinic. We drove for an hour to get there, and the entire ride over, Milo slept while I grew more and more anxious.

“What if she doesn’t like me?” I burst out when we pulled into a parking space in front of a building that looked like any other hospital I’d ever been to. I clutched my hands in my lap.

Thomas killed the engine and turned in his seat, resting one arm on the wheel. “She’s going to like you, Ollie. Who doesn’t like you?”

“Uh. Plenty of people? I make a point of surrounding myself only with people who do like me, but at work I come across idiots all the time. And in high school, nobody liked me.”

“Nobody likes anyone in high school. And you had Sam, so I’m sure it wasn’t all bad.”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“Aw, love.” He cupped the back of my neck and pulled me close. “Liesbeth is going to like you. She’s going to see how great you are with Milo, and she’ll be put at ease. That’s all we’re doing here. She’s worried about strangers taking care of her baby. You understand that, don’t you?”

I looked over my shoulder, but Milo was tucked away in his rear-facing car seat and I couldn’t see him. “I do understand,” I said. “But you’re not living with me anymore, so what’s the point? Not that I don’t want to be here, but—” I looked away.

Thomas squeezed my knee. “I’m sorry this is hurting you,” he murmured. “It’s hurting me too. But I don’t know what else to do, Ollie.”

I nodded and pressed my lips together. This wasn’t the time or the place to talk about us. “Let’s go meet your baby mama.”

“Don’t call her that. She won’t like you if you call her that.”

I glared at him, one hand on the car door handle, and he laughed, leaned across the console, and kissed my cheek.

“You’re just too cute.”

I huffed, secretly pleased, and got out of the car. Milo was still fast asleep, but at least he was in one of those easy carriers I could lift from its base.

Whatever I’d been expecting from the inside, it hadn’t been a modern building that looked more like a stylish apartment complex than a clinic. Thomas signed us in, the nurse called Liesbeth to let her know we were on our way, and up the stairs we went.

The hallway was really quiet. Thomas walked with purpose, diaper bag slung over his shoulder, all the way to the room at the end. In the seat, Milo stirred a little but kept on sleeping. Thomas knocked on the last door to the right.

“Come in.”

He opened the door and stepped aside so I could go in with Milo first. The girl I remembered from the most awful night of my life was sitting on a neat, queen-size bed, reading a magazine.

“Hi,” she said, rising to her feet. She glanced at me briefly, but her eyes zeroed in on Milo almost immediately. “Oh, he’s sleeping.” She pressed her hands to her mouth. She had very small hands, I noticed, and thick, blonde hair that was almost wiry. Her blue eyes filled with tears. I set the carrier down. I felt a little pang in my chest, because she was awfully pretty, and she and Thomas would’ve made a really amazing couple.

Thomas came to stand beside me and put his arm around my waist as Liesbeth kneeled and gently stroked Milo’s fingers.

“Hey, sweet boy.” She looked up at us. “How long has he been asleep?”

“Nearly an hour and a half,” Thomas said. “He’ll wake up soon.”

She nodded as her gaze slid toward me. I held out my hand, and she shook it.

“I’m Oliver,” I said.

“I remember you.” She let go of my hand. “From that night. I’m really sorry about what happened.”

“Thank you.” An awkward silence fell.

“Do you have coffee, Liesbeth? I could make some.” Thomas gestured toward a little alcove to the right I hadn’t noticed before. In it sat a dining nook with counter space to the side. She had a sink, microwave, minifridge, and coffee machine. Tiny, but functional.

“I’ll do it,” she said. “You guys take a seat.”

On the other side of the bed were two chairs facing the window, so I picked up the car seat and carried Milo over. Liesbeth’s view was of the grounds—invisible from the street—and I tugged her sheer curtain to the side to have a better look. Below us lay a park with a winding path that led across the lawn toward a pond with the typical weeping willow.