“Look, quit playing me out as the villain. Emma wanted a baby, so I agreed to help her.”
Patrick opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water. Once he had a moment to adjust to the news, an amused smile curved on his lips. “Ah, you’re like her stud horse or something?”
“Not funny.”
“Sorry, son. I couldn’t resist.” He patted Aidan’s arm. “All joking aside, I just want you to think long and hard about what you’re doing. I can see you care deeply for Emma, and she does for you.”
Aidan shifted in his chair and stared down at his hands. “I don’t know how I feel.”
“You know what your mother would say, don’t you?”
Sinking fast in the quick-sand of his father’s words, Aidan swept out of his chair and went to pour himself a drink. He pulled the Scotch from the cabinet. “Don’t bring her into this. She badgered me enough herself. Always wondering why I broke Amy’s heart, or why I wouldn’t settle down, marry some nice girl from church, and punch out a bunch of kids.” He conveniently left out the part about how she had made him promise on her deathbed to have children one day.
“Don’t you realize son she knew that’s what would really make you happy.”
Aidan scowled. “But she never saw the real me—she only believed the good parts. If she had really stopped to think about it, she would have realized I never wanted to be tied down or be stuck with the same woman day in and day out.”
Hurt radiated in Patrick’s eyes. “Is that what you think of the forty-five years I had with your mother?”
Aidan threw his head back and stared at the water stain on the dining room ceiling. He wished he had never answered his phone or agreed to come over. Most of all, he wished he had never, ever thought bringing Emma with him would be a good idea. She had been right when she anticipated her presence would bring on the third degree. Aidan sighed and looked over at his father. “No, Pop, that’s not what I think. But we’re different people.”
“Emma could be the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”
A snort erupted from Aidan’s lips. “How the hell would you know that? You’ve been with her all of an hour!”
“I may be an old man, but I’m not blind. She’s the total package, son. She’s just as beautiful on the inside as she is on the out. How can you not be amazed by what a special young woman she is? Why if I was your age, I’d be doing everything in my power to make her mine—especially if she was carrying my child.”
Aidan opened his mouth to argue, but at the sound of the bathroom door creaking, he closed it. “Not a word,” he whispered to his father. When Emma appeared, her face was positively ghost-like except for the flush of embarrassment on her cheeks. She eased down in her seat and tentatively glanced across the table at Aidan.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She gave a weak smile. “I’m fine.” She then turned to Patrick. “Mr. Fitzgerald, I’m so sorry for ruining your lunch like that.”
He held up his index finger to silence her. “You did no such thing.” He reached across the table to squeeze her hand. “Besides, it does an old man’s heart good to hear he’s going to be a grandfather again.”
“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!”