Page 2 of The Pairing


  “And you won’t. I promise.” Emma reached out and took his hand. Months ago, that touch would have electrified him from his head to his feet. Now it was nothing more than the caring touch of a friend. “In this day and age, it is so hard to find a truly honorable man. You have such a kind heart and a caring spirit. Coupled with your integrity, I couldn’t ask for a better person in my son’s life, and Aidan agreed.” She squeezed his hand. “Please say yes.”

  Pesh brought his gaze from Emma’s intense one to Noah’s inquisitive one. How could he say no? He loved children, and he wanted nothing more than to have a house full of them one day. The fact that Emma thought so highly of him truly melted his heart. As he stared into Noah’s sweet face, he wanted to be a part of his life. “Emma, it would be a privilege.”

  Emma’s green eyes widened as she bounded out of her chair. “Really?”

  He smiled at her excitement. “Of course, it is an honor and a pleasure.”

  “Thank you, Pesh. Thank you so, so much!” she cried, throwing her arms around his neck.

  Noah squealed happily between them and kicked his legs against Pesh’s chest. When Emma pulled away, Noah grinned at the two of them, which caused Emma to smile. “I think Noah approves of his new godfather.”

  Pesh returned her smile. “I think he does, too. Or he realizes his mother’s talents for manipulating any man within a mile radius.”

  “You’re terrible,” she replied, swatting his arm playfully.

  Kristi poked her head in the room. “Sorry to interrupt, Dr. Nadeen. But you have a patient in exam room A.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right there.” He shook his head at Emma. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

  “No, it’s fine. I understand.” She reached for Noah and took him back into her arms. “The baptism is in two weeks. I’ll send you all the details. It’ll be at Transfiguration in Marietta since it’s closer to our house. Afterwards, we’re going to have a big party.”

  “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule.”

  “Wonderful.”

  Pesh leaned over to kiss Noah’s cheek. “Goodbye my godson. Be good for your mother.” He pulled Emma to him and hugged her. “Goodbye to you as well.”

  She squeezed him tight. “Thank you again. You can’t imagine how happy you’ve made me. And Aidan.”

  He imagined that Emma’s elation was far greater than Aidan’s, but he kept that to himself. Instead, he walked to her the door. Just as he went for the doorknob, Emma shocked him with her next statement. “Oh, if you’re seeing someone, please feel free to bring her with you.”

  Pesh couldn’t help the burst of nervous laughter that escaped his lips. “That wasn’t obvious at all.”

  Emma frowned. “But I thought…at least I hoped you would be dating someone by now.”

  “Well, I’m not.”

  Shifting Noah to her other hip, Emma shook her head. “How is that possible? Do you walk around with a bag over your head? Live as a hermit?”

  “No to the bag, and I guess yes to a hermit.” He glanced around. “I’m always here.”

  Emma’s gaze left his and took in some of the nurses passing by them. He could imagine from the looks they were giving him, and more particularly the envious daggers they were shooting Emma, that she knew what was on their minds. “Do you have any idea what effect you have on women?”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “No, but I suppose you’re going to remind me again.”

  Emma sighed. “I just want you to be happy, and I know that deep down you aren’t.”

  “Please, just let it go for now, okay?”

  Although she nodded, Pesh could tell she was far from agreeing. Somewhere within that pretty head of hers the wheels of matchmaking were turning hard and fast. “See you soon,” she said, before starting down the hall.

  As he watched Emma and Noah walk through the mechanized double doors into the waiting room, a pang of sadness reverberated through him as he wondered what his child might have been like. In the months before her death, his late wife, Jade, had been on fertility medication. She’d miscarried once, but she had great hopes that their latest baby making attempts would be successful. She died never knowing if she was pregnant or not. When the autopsy had come back, Pesh refused to read whether she had been. It would have been too difficult to bear.

  Shaking off his morbid thoughts once again, he went into the room where a patient needed him.

  “Where the hell is my dress?” Megan McKenzie demanded, as she rifled through her closet. The one formal and demure dress she owned had been dropped off at the cleaners earlier in the week to prepare for her godson, Noah’s, baptism. As the godmother, she wanted to look mature and responsible. Most of the dresses in her closet were from her former life—in other words, her life before her son was born. That meant they were too short, too tight, and too revealing.

  She cut her eyes over to the couch to check on Mason. Sitting stock still, he was enraptured by the cartoon on the TV. “Be right back, sweetie.”

  “Awight, Mommy.”

  She pounded up the basement stairs and into her parent’s kitchen. She hoped she would find the dress hanging in the hall closet. If not, she was totally screwed. As she started into the living room, the mere sound of a voice on the television caused her to freeze. Her stomach churned, and her heart raced. She knew that voice all too well. It belonged to the man who had shredded her heart, crushed her spirit, and left her broken almost beyond repair.

  Her nineteen-year-old-brother, Sean, lounged on the couch, watching ESPN. On the screen, her ex-boyfriend, Davis Durello, gave an interview outfitted in his Falcons jersey and pads. Becoming enraged that he was invading her home, Megan stalked across the room and snatched the remote out of Sean’s hand. She flicked off the television and tossed the remote at him, smacking him in the chest. He glowered at her. “What the hell, Meg? I was watching that.”

  “Are you that big of an insensitive asshole that you even have to ask?”

  “I’m an asshole because you’re getting pissed I’m watching some old interview of Davis’?”

  “Aren’t you perceptive?” Megan snapped sarcastically.

  “I thought you were over him,” Sean countered.

  Megan didn’t even bother trying to explain to Sean that even after two years, it was hard getting over the man who left you knocked up and refused to have anything to do with his son besides signing a check. As a teenage male, Sean just didn’t have that much emotional depth to understand that a wound like that may look like it has healed, but it was always festering just below the surface.

  “I am,” she lied. “But that doesn’t mean I want to see him. Most people get to leave their ex-boyfriends behind, but I have to have mine thrust into my face during football season. But even when that’s over, he still seems to be creeping around.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she shot a death glare at Sean. “It would be nice if you cared enough about me not to want to watch him.”

  “Can I help that your douchebag ex happens to play for the Falcons, and ESPN is doing an interview?”

  “You don’t have to be watching it in my presence!”

  At her outburst, Sean held up his hands in defeat. “Sorry. I didn’t know it got to you that bad. I’ll turn the channel next time, okay?”

  “Fine,” she muttered. Feeling slightly psychotic after her outburst, she kept her head down as she headed for the hall closet. Thankfully, her navy blue dress hung on the rack still in the plastic from the dry cleaners. When she turned around, she found her mother outfitted in her finest pale pink suit. She eyed Megan’s robe-clad form disdainfully. “Megan, we leave in half an hour. Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

  Closing her eyes, Megan counted to ten so she wouldn’t bite her mother’s head off. “I left my dress up here after I picked it up at the dry cleaners. I’ll be ready on time. I promise.”

  “Would you like me to get Mason dressed?”

  “I’ve already taken care of him. It’s ju
st me that needs to get her act together.” Without another word, she brushed past her mother and went into the kitchen. Wearing his best suit and tie, her father stood at the bar, putting on his cufflinks.

  At his expectant look, she held up her hand. “I know we leave in half an hour. I’ll be ready. I swear.” She then threw open the basement door. Pounding down the steps, she tried calming down. She didn’t know what it was about her parents’ seemingly good intentions that grated on her last nerve. Of course, they hadn’t bothered her as much when she had lived alone. Now that she was back under their roof, they seemed to forget she was twenty-five, a mother, and not their little girl to boss around anymore.

  With clinicals looming to enable her to finish her nursing degree, she’d known she wouldn’t be able to work fulltime. Although she loved the freedom and independence of having her own apartment, there was no way she could afford it and daycare for Mason. So, she’d packed up, tucked her tail between her legs, and moved back home to her parents’ finished basement.

  It wasn’t all bad. She had her own kitchen and bathroom, not to mention she and Mason still had their own rooms. With her father recently retired, she had a great male role model on site for Mason.

  She found him exactly as she had left him, lounging on the couch watching his favorite movie, Despicable Me. She smiled at the sight of him in his khaki pants, black, button down dress shirt, and red clip-on tie. He looked just like a little man sitting there, even though he had just turned seventeen months the day before. Usually, he would be tearing around the living room, playing with his toys. But just one look at a minion sent him practically catatonic. That had been Megan’s plan when she got him dressed earlier. He’d seen the movie almost by mistake, considering he was a little young for the PG cartoon, but with older cousins, along with her brothers, Mason was often exposed to things that were older. She liked to think being surrounded by adults and older kids was one reason why he was a such a good talker for his age.

  “Aren’t you being a good boy?” she said.

  Mason barely acknowledged her. Instead, his baby blues remained focused on the television. Since the movie was almost over, Megan knew she better slip into the bedroom and finish getting ready.

  Each time she looked into Mason’s face, she was grateful that he looked nothing like his father. His platinum blond hair and blue eyes were completely hers. It was only his build that he was taking after his father. Where Megan was a diminutive 5’3”, Davis was 6’1” and two hundred pounds. Mason was already registering off the charts in height and weight according to his pediatrician.

  Davis had seen Mason only twice in his lifetime—the day he had been born and the day he came home from the hospital. After that, he hadn’t been interested in any of the pictures and emails Megan sent. With his professional football career on the rise, Davis hadn’t wanted to be shackled with the responsibilities of a baby. Instead, he wanted to spend his time off the field partying until all hours of the night. He only paid child support when Megan threatened to have his wages garnished. She dreaded the day when Mason was old enough to ask about his father. She never wanted anything in the world to hurt him, and she knew that being rejected by his father would.

  With a sigh, she stepped into the dress and slid it over her hips. Wrestling around to get the zipper all the way up caused her to huff and puff. Standing back from the mirror, she turned to and fro to take in her appearance. She’d always loved how the dress made her feel sexy, but at the same time was very respectable. While it boasted a sweetheart neckline, the hemline fell just below her knees. She put on her pearls—a high school graduation gift from her Uncle Aidan, or “Ankle”, as she often called him.

  Aidan was her mother’s baby brother and only son of the family. When she was born, he was only eight and a half. As the first grandchild, Megan spent a lot of time with her grandparents, and that in turn, meant she spent a lot of time with Aidan. He had devoted hours to holding her and spoiling her rotten. When it came time for her to talk, she just couldn’t seem to get “Uncle Aidan” out. Instead, she called him “Ankle.” It was a nickname that had stuck with him even now that he was thirty-four and married.

  While it had been no question that she wanted him as godfather for Mason, she had been extremely honored when he and his wife, Emma, had asked her to be their son, Noah’s, godmother. She loved her newest cousin very much and planned to be the best godmother she could for him.

  As she stepped out of the bedroom, she found that Mason had yet to move. “Okay buddy, time to go.”

  When he started to whine, she shook her head. “We have such a fun day ahead of us. It’s Noah’s baptism, and then there’s a party at Uncle Aidan and Aunt Emma’s house.”

  “Beau?” he asked.

  She laughed. “Yes, you’ll get to see and play with Beau, too.” As she went to the couch and picked him up, she couldn’t help finding it amusing that out of everyone he was going to see today, he was most excited about being with Aidan and Emma’s black Lab, Beau. One day when they had their own place again, she would get him a dog. He loved them too much to be denied.

  “Oomph,” she muttered, as they started up the basement stairs.

  “Heawy?” he asked.

  “Yes, you’re getting to be such a big, heavy boy.”

  When they made it to the kitchen, Megan paused to catch her breath. She only had a second before her mother breezed in with Sean, and her youngest brother, Gavin. “Ready?” she asked.

  Megan nodded. Feeling like she was once again a teenager, she filed behind her parents as they headed into the garage. “I want to drive,” Gavin said.

  With a smirk, Sean replied, “Like I’m gonna let you drive my car.” He then slid into the driver’s seat as Gavin reluctantly walked around to the passenger’s side.

  “We’ll see you there in just a few,” her mother called.

  Sean acknowledged her with a two finger salute before cranking up and pulling down the driveway. Megan worked to get Mason into the car seat in her parents’ Land Rover. Once he was safely strapped and buckled in, she hopped in beside him.

  Her parents rattled along to each other as they made their way through the tree-lined suburbs where Megan had grown up. While some might look on her as having a mark against her character being an unwed mother, she had lived a relatively non-rebellious life. Even though she’d been a cheerleader and ran with the popular crowd in school, she rarely partied to excess. Instead, she had focused on getting good grades. At that time, she had her heart set on going to medical school and becoming a doctor. From the time she was a little girl, she had wanted nothing more than to help people. She was always mending birds with broken wings or trying to resuscitate squirrels who had been hit by cars. She ditched playing princess for playing “hospital.” Her desire to become a doctor was why she needed the best scores and best activities and why she generally shunned any temptations to lead her off the right path.

  She had even managed to bypass the usual freshman craziness when she went off to the University of Georgia. It wasn’t until she fell in love for the first time in her life that she threw everything away. Sadly, she couldn’t say that her first love was Davis, Mason’s father. Instead, it was another football player, this time a running back at UGA, who captured and later broke her heart a year later. Carsyn ran with the fast crowd, and when she was with him, she partied and drank too much. He was controlling and possessive, and he wanted all of her time. When she was with him, she had little time for studying. With her grades already in the toilet, she was unprepared for the emotional breakdown she experienced when Carsyn broke up with her. Devastated, she stopped going to class and ended up flunking the semester.

  By the time she got back on track with her grades, she had abandoned any hope of medical school. Instead, she decided that she would become a nurse, which would fulfill her need to care for sick people. Of course, her relationship with Davis ended up derailing shortly before graduation when she got pregnant unexpectedly. She
had to take several semesters off after Mason was born. She was a few years off from when she had originally planned on graduating, but she was excited after everything had that had happened, she was finally finishing.

  Her mother’s voice brought Megan out of her thoughts. “Here we are,” she said pleasantly.

  Leaning forward in her seat, Megan eyed the clock on the dashboard. She wasn’t surprised to see they had arrived half an hour before the baptism started. One thing her mother prided herself on was being on time and lending a hand. As they started into the church, her mother reached for Mason. “We’ll take him so you can go see if Emma needs any help.”

  Megan bent over to kiss Mason’s cheek. “See you in a little while, sweetie.”

  He grinned and then happily dodged her mother’s arms for her father’s instead, which made Megan smile. He was such a man’s man already. He loved sitting between her brothers on the couch and watching TV. While it was good that he had so many male role models, she only hoped he hadn’t inherited too much of his father’s personality.

  After Megan watched them disappear in the crowd of family and friends waiting in the church alcove, she bypassed everyone by turning right and heading down the hallway. At the last door on the right, she knocked. “It’s me, Megan.”

  Emma’s best friend, Casey, answered the door. “Well, if it isn’t the fairy godmother,” she mused with a grin. After Megan stepped inside, Casey threw her arms around her. Megan had only met her a few times, but it was hard not liking Emma’s vivacious and outgoing friend. Casey’s long brown hair was pulled back in a lose knot, and she wore a demure black slip dress and heels.

  “So how’s it going?” Megan asked, gazing from Noah’s diapered but naked form to Emma. She was feeding him a bottle while her upper body was draped in a towel. Peeking out from the covering, she saw Emma was wearing her signature color, green. As Noah sucked on his bottle, he twirled a strand of Emma’s auburn hair between his fingers. Both father and son were fans of Emma wearing her hair down.