I poured the ruined egg mixture down the sink, watching Mom over my shoulder as her eyebrows slowly rose with each passing sentence. I cracked new eggs in the bowl and looked up just in time to see her fold and pocket the note. “I need to show it to your father.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. I ran the back of my hand across my forehead and clenched my teeth. I was already running thirty minutes behind on the breakfast schedule, but I couldn’t focus. Our first guests had been seated, there was nothing on the buffet, and individual orders would be coming in soon. “What am I going to do?”
Mom stood behind me, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure this out. I think first things first though, we find Shayla. She didn’t leave a way to contact her, but hopefully, she calls before showing up. I hate this path she’s traveled down. We…we tried to do everything right after her parents died.”
“Mom,” I whispered and leaned my head on her shoulder. “This isn’t your fault. Y’all took her in when Aunt Merissa and Uncle Ronnie died. She was a member of our family. I think of her as my sister.”
“She’s just as much a daughter to me as you are my daughter and your brother is my son. I want her to be okay, and having her in Tucker’s life wouldn’t be the worst thing if she’s sober.”
A sense of betrayal sliced through me. I’d been working on finding a way to officially adopt Tucker for a long time, but I didn’t know how to go about it. To officially make it happen, I had to track down Shayla and have her waive her parental rights. It had always felt like there was time, and now there was a ticking clock in the back of my mind, counting down until my life imploded.
“That’s not what I meant, sweetheart. Shayla is his biological mother, but you are his mom. I don’t think that should change. You’ve raised him and he knows you as his mom, but if she is able to be in his life in any capacity, don’t you think he deserves that?”
“Yes,” I answered even though it cracked my heart in half.
“We’ll figure all this out. We don’t know anything yet. Right now, let’s go about this as if it’s a normal day.”
“Normal. Right.”
“Oh my god!” Tuck yelled from the dining room area. My heart jumped to my throat and I froze for a second, fearing the worst. Fearing Shayla had arrived and spilled the beans before we even had a chance to process. I ran to the dining area, racing through my thoughts faster than my feet could carry me.
Would she even recognize him?
What if she tried to take him?
Should I call the cops?
I ground to a halt before I crashed into the dining room tables. My gaze shot around the room looking for the threat, but there was none. Mom crashed into my back, breathing hard. “What’s happening?”
Tucker was looking up at a tall man as if he’d raised the sun. Tucker’s hands were on his head, and the man was looking down at my son with a small smile on his face, nodding as Tuck raced through his words.
“Do you know who that is?” Mom asked. “I thought I recognized his name last night when he checked in, but his face wasn’t familiar to me.”
“No,” I answered before walking over to Tuck. I dropped a hand on top of his head, running my palm over his silky chestnut hair, which matched mine in color. No one would ever guess he wasn’t biologically mine. He resembled me closely. “What’s going on?”
“Mom.” Tucker turned toward me. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were bright with excitement. His other hand shook as he took a hand off his head and grabbed mine, squeezing so hard I could feel my bones smashing together. “How can you not know who this is?”
I turned my attention toward the stranger and smiled. “I’m sorry but should I know?”
“He’s only the greatest center fielder in the league, Mom,” Tucker said with exasperation leaking through every word.
“Gunner Gentry.” The man stuck out his hand for me. My gaze roamed over his face and suddenly I recognized him. Those intense blue eyes stared at me daily when I went into Tuck’s room. The easy smile he was wearing was far different from the intense stare in the poster hanging on the wall.
“Delilah Moreland. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you without the black lines under your eyes. Tuck has a poster of you. With as many times as I’ve seen your face, I should’ve known who you were from across the room.”
“Mom,” Tucker hissed through his teeth.
Gunner laughed, winked at me, and moved his eyes back to Tuck. “I had posters of all my favorite ballplayers in my room too.”
“I’m sorry he bothered you. Tuck, let’s let Mr. Gentry eat his breakfast in peace. Mr. Gentry, can I get you anything? I’m the chef here, and I’ll whip up anything you like. I hope Tucker didn’t disturb you. He’s a really big baseball fan.”
“Were you the kid hitting balls out on the baseball field last night?” Gunner gave me a reassuring smile, letting me know it was okay that Tucker had approached him. He’d never met a professional athlete before, and I knew he would be talking about this for months.
“You saw me?” Tucker swayed slightly and landed against my side.
“Yeah, you’re good. Might need another pitcher though. Your mom threw a couple of balls in the dirt. I’m around for the next few months. I’ll go out there with you sometime. Y’all live close by?” Gunner grinned at me, and my boy’s eyes lit up like the Fourth of July.
“We live here. Yes, please. Please.” Tucker bounced on the balls of his feet, completely losing his cool-guy persona.
“We’ll get it done, kid. You’re the chef?” Gunner asked me.
“Yes, I am. Thank you so much. Tucker will love that. You don’t have to though,” I whispered so Tucker wouldn’t hear.
Gunner waved his hand. “It’ll be fun. I have a question for you though.”
“Sure.”
“Are you going to make any more of those cookies? Your mom had snickerdoodles at the front last night, said you made them. I, uh, I, uh, came back in the middle of the night and uh…they’re gone.”
I laughed. “You ate the whole plate?”
His cheeks warmed with color. “I don’t eat sweets during the season, so I might’ve gone one or two overboard.”
“One or two?”
Gunner ran a hand through his hair. His bicep flexed through his long-sleeved shirt as he tugged on the ends of his chocolate-colored hair. It was thick with a slight wave, long on top and a bit shorter on the sides. His scruffy, angular jaw framed plush lips. The eyes that stared at me when I went into Tuck’s room were a deep denim blue with lighter streaks throughout. They reminded me of the marbles Tuck used to carry around and sling all over the house.
“No more snickerdoodles today.” I crossed my arms over my stomach, hoping the buzzing sensation would stop, but it only picked up when his disappointed frown turned into a radiant smile as I kept talking. “Salted caramel cookies are on the menu today.”
Gunner groaned, rubbing his stomach. “Is breakfast as good as the cookies?”
“Mom makes the best French toast. Make it for him, Mom,” Tucker demanded.