Alexis Brown knew the score. Unable to prevent the murder of
her sister, faced with the funeral costs not to mention all
ready burdened with student loans and a mortgage, she was
also charged with taking care of her new born niece
Michelle. A lot for anyone to handle and at 31 she is
getting to a point of desperation when her meager funds are
being depleted fast and her job at the D.A. office was
waiting for her return. With Social Service knocking at her
door she has one ace to play but it is risky. So Alexis has
to make a decision whether to confront the man who
unknowingly fathered Michelle and see if they could work out
an arrangement where they could split custody. Money
certainly wouldn't be any problem for him. After all Dan
Delito was the starting QB of the New England Patriots. How
was she to know that she was literally stirring up a
hornet's nest by introducing him to his daughter.
Alexis was adamant that the only way she would allow
Michelle's father into her life is if he were worthy --
parent material. Her own parents were less than adequate and
no way would she submit her niece to living with anything
less than sterling. But Dan was battling his own demons.
Having lost his wife Kim to breast cancer he found escape in
a bottle. His family was at a loss to bring him around. They
needed some kind of miracle to bring their son back from the
depths of despair he was drowning in. Alexis's first meeting
with Dan came to an abrupt end once she realized her
research on Delito never mentioned an alcohol problem. Her
father was what she called a functioning alcoholic who wound
up losing everything. No way would she entrust Michelle to
a drunk. And trust was the one thing that was evidently
going to prevent Dan from having a meaningful relationship
with not only his daughter but her aunt who was quickly
becoming just as vital to him. Initially wounded by Dan's
pronouncement that the baby would be living with him with
liberal visitation for her, Alexis questioned her decision
to prove Dan's parentage. Time does heal all wounds but the
clock starts ticking really quickly as news of Michelle's
new daddy becomes media fodder. Damage control is essential
and some difficult decisions have to be made.
Linda Barrett writes about nice people with realistic
problems that sometimes need a bit of a miracle to work out
right. Not the other worldly type of miracle but a solid
well conceived plan of action miracle. You know the kind --
no guts no glory. Well this story has lots of gutsy moves on
and off the field. Love football, love this story. Barrett
scores another one in my book. Enjoy.
A party-loving sports figure is not an ideal parent in
Alexis Brown's eyes. Too bad quarterback Dan Delito is the
only parent her niece has. Alexis isn't in a position to
raise the baby on her own, which means she needs Dan's help.
And that means she'll have to make nice with the unsuitable
man. Fine.
Much to Alexis's surprise, however, Dan is
good with his daughter. He also knows he needs help, so he
convinces Alexis to act as a nanny until he gets this
parenting thing down. And soon their uneasy friendship
changes into an unlikely romance. But can a football player,
a lawyer and a baby really make a family?
Excerpt
THE BOSTON GLOBE Friday, July 6
MURDER-SUICIDE ENDS WITH BABY BORN IN AMBULANCE
Sherri Brown, 25, and nine months pregnant, was shot and
left for dead last evening in front of her sister's
apartment building in the Leather District. The assailant
then turned the gun on himself and died at the scene. Ms.
Brown succumbed in the ambulance, where her child was
delivered by emergency cesarian section. Her sister, Alexis
Brown, was with her. Preliminary investigation revealed the
gunman to be a former boyfriend of the victim.
Three monthsafter the tragedy, Alexis Brown deliberately
removed the news clipping from her kitchen message board and
placed it in an envelope for safekeeping. Reading wasn't
necessary; she'd memorized the article. The headline,
however, still had the power to suck the air out of her.
Even now, as she handled the clipping, her pulse fluttered
when memories of that night tortured her like scenes from a
well-made horror movie.
She remembered running downstairs after Sherri to return a
child-care book her sister had forgotten to take. Arriving
just in time to watch a man shoot himself, and to see Sherri
lying on the sidewalk. Calling 9-1-1 on her cell phone.
Watching the doctor and the EMT deliver the baby. Holding
Sherri's hand, straining to hear her last words, whispered
directly into Alexis's ear.
She shivered head to toe, her stomach cramping as she
thought about the police report, the result of a first-rate
investigation. She'd learned more than she'd really wanted
to know.
Clasping a pen, she wrote Michelle's name on the envelope,
sealed it and filed the newspaper article with the baby's
other legal papers in the bottom drawer of her desk. When
her niece grew up, she'd be entitled to read it.
When her niece grew up… Alexis tiptoed to the crib in
the bedroom where Michelle napped peacefully, her little
forehead unlined, her breathing strong and even. Beautiful,
sweet and innocent. Exactly the way a baby should be, and
the way Alexis had vowed this baby's life would be. She
wouldn't fail Michelle the way she'd failed Michelle's mom.
Leaving the bedroom quietly, Alexis returned to her desk in
the main area of her apartment, a condo conversion. She
loved the place, but she'd have to sell it, and the market
was awful. Prices were falling in the depressed economy, and
she'd be lucky to break even.
Money. Everything always came down to money.
She reached for the phone, hoping Roz would be available to
brainstorm. Only a few years older than Alexis, the baby's
social worker had been supportive from Day One, and Alexis
trusted her as much as she could trust anybody.
With Roz's cheery hello, Alexis sighed in relief. "How
are you feeling about problem solving today?"
"Diaper rash or teething?"
"If only. I need a miracle, Roz, like hitting the
day-care lottery."
"Ouch. That's a tough one."
"You said it. Every place I visited downtown is way out
of my reach. I can't afford any of them, and I don't qualify
for reduced fees despite earning peanuts." She felt
panic start to build inside her. "I've got to return to
work on the twenty-ninth. That's only three weeks away!"
"Easy, Alexis," Roz soothed. "Easy. I'm
listening."
"I know, but I'm stuck, Roz. Between the student loans
and the mortgage, I don't have a lot of savings. I've only
been working for two years. My credit card is maxed out with
all the baby stuff and…and…my normal
expenses."
"I'm listening to your every word, Alexis, but I didn't
hear you mention the biggest culprit of all, and certainly
not a 'normal' expense. As usual, you're being too hard on
yourself."
Alexis remained silent, fighting tears.
"Funeral costs are high," Roz continued, "and
you've shouldered that alone."
"Did I have a choice?" Alexis whispered, her throat
hurting. "Sherri would still be lying in the morgue if
I'd depended on Cal and Peggy. You know how 'parental' they
are." She swallowed her sarcasm with a deep breath and
regained her balance.
"I know all about them, and sadly, what you say is
true," said Roz. She sighed deeply, so deeply that
Alexis heard the woman's exhalation through the phone.
"Ironically, your sister would have qualified for
financial aid, but you don't. You're off work right now,
however, so I can give you vouchers for neighborhood food
pantries…"
"Food pantries? Roz, I'm not homeless." She
heard the horror in her voice. Even her family had never
resorted to food pantries.
"Right," said Roz. "And we're trying to prevent
that."
Stay calm. Her palms began to sweat. "I can
earn a living for Michelle and me. I worked hard to get
through college, then law school…."
"I know that. You've impressed me from the first time we
met, but I've got to speak honestly here," said Roz.
"You've got temporary custody of Michelle until it's
finalized in the courts. You are the baby's closest and, in
my opinion, most capable relative. But if you think you
can't handle the responsibility right now, we could go the
foster route just until—"
"No! Please, no foster care. I'll handle it. I'll even
use the food vouchers. And—and I'll put the condo on
the market. Today. The hell with the financial loss."
Damn! She shouldn't have called Roz after all. Give Michelle
up? Never!
The baby already recognized her. She knew Alexis's step, her
touch. Since Michelle had started smiling a week ago, they'd
laughed and played silly games all day long. They were a
team. They loved each other. Michelle's home was with
Alexis. Period. In a few more months, Alexis would become
Michelle's legal mom. End of story.
Roz was still talking and Alexis tuned in again.
"There's one other possibility," said the woman.
"I wonder… Alexis, when you packed up your
sister's apartment, did you go through her clothes, look in
her pockets? Maybe letters, notes, phone messages?"
Alexis had returned to Sherri's place two days after
Michelle's birth, once the police had searched for evidence
and removed the yellow tape. Her sister's belongings had
been scattered about in her usual haphazard style.
"I bagged her clothes for donations, emptied drawers.
Took whatever baby clothes and items she'd bought. What are
you getting at?"
"It takes two people to make a baby, kiddo. Michelle's
father—"
"Did you find out who he is?" Alexis interrupted,
her throat tight once more, her heart beating in double time.
"No, I didn't," replied Roz slowly. "I was
hoping you might have discovered a clue, something in
Sherri's apartment maybe. DNA ruled out the guy who killed
her. We know that much."
The negative DNA results left the path open to someone else,
someone Alexis had been able to target. She was not ready,
however, to share that information. So she took a deep
breath and lied to her closest ally.
"I didn't find anything, Roz. Nothing. Nada. I
don't know any more than you do."
Protecting the baby was and would always be her highest
priority. She would initiate a thorough investigation of the
baby's possible father on her own before she made her next
move. She had two weeks to figure it all out, before she had
to start considering bankruptcy to eliminate some of her
debt. Just like her own dysfunctional parents had done
recently. The irony didn't escape her.
Dan Delito, starting quarterback for the New England
Patriots, slouched in his favorite club chair, staring at
the wallet-size picture of Kim that he carried with him at
all times. Tonight would have been their ninth anniversary
but for the breast cancer that had consumed her almost two
years ago. He stroked a shaking finger across her beautiful
face and down her long dark hair, wavy and soft. Oh,
baby, baby...I miss you so much. It was so unfair. To
her. To him. His gentle, loving wife had deserved better
than virulent cancer cells and toxic chemo. She'd deserved a
long life, with children and family and good times. He would
have given her twelve kids if she'd said the word. Whatever
she'd wanted, she could have had.
He eyed the bottle of single-malt Scotch on the table next
to him. It was half-gone, and his empty glass stood waiting
for a refill. No one could say he was a cheap drunk, that's
for sure. He grabbed the bottle and poured. The smooth amber
liquid would make the pain go away.
"Danny? You didn't hear the bell, so we let
ourselves…Danny! What are you doing? Dear God, not
again!"
He turned his head, glass to his lips. His folks. He took a
swallow. "Come on in. Grab a couple of glasses and join
me. It's my anniversary, and we have to toast Kim. My
Kimmy."
He took another sip, watched his parents put down
aluminum-foil-wrapped packages. The aroma from them was
delicious, homemade from his parents' Italian deli, but his
stomach suddenly rebelled. "Be right back."
Ten minutes later, he found his folks in the kitchen,
warming up some braciole. The marinated steak was one of his
favorites. His mom served it in spaghetti sauce with a salad
and warm bread on the side. He wanted it, but his insides
threatened another revolt.
"I need some air." He opened the back door and
stepped onto the patio of his four-story town house. Kim had
loved this place, and she'd turned it into a real home for
them. Her presence lingered in every room, and that made him
feel good.
He inhaled the crisp autumn air. Football weather. The best
time of the year. Goose bumps popped out all over his body
as he thought of this weekend's home game. Another deep
breath cleared his head, settled his stomach.
He sensed a big shadow behind him. His dad.
"You can't go on like this, son."
"I'm fine, Dad. Don't worry. It's because of the
anniversary, that's all."
"And what was the excuse last week?" Nicky Delito
wasn't letting go.
"Last week, I knew it was coming," said Dan.
"Come on, Dad, we're tied for the best record in the
league. What more do you want?"
His dad equaled him in size, but suddenly loomed larger than
ten linebackers, as he had when Dan was a kid.
"What more do I want?" Nicky bellowed. "I want a
sober son again. I want your mother to stop crying over you.
Praying on her knees every single night. Your
brother… your sister… the kids. You're always
the topic
of conversation and it's enough. You hear me, Danny-boy? I
want a son I can count on. That's what I want!"
"Nicky, stop yelling." His mom stood in the doorway
to the patio. Danny waved to her, but then addressed his father.
"You can count on me, Dad. On the weekends, on the
field. I haven't let the team down yet, and I don't intend
to. My coaches, the management—everyone's happy with
our performance so far, and we have a home game this
Sunday."
Nicky raised both arms up in the air and let them fall to
his sides. He looked at his wife. "He doesn't get it.
Who gives a damn about a football game when his life's a
mess?"
"If I didn't care about the game, Dad, I'd drink all the
time. Now, I only drink in the middle of the week." He
clapped his dad on the shoulder. "Don't worry. I can
handle being a part-time drinker."
"Maybe you should join a twelve-step program," said
Rita Delito.
"Are you kidding, Ma? Those programs are for real
alcoholics."
His parents stared at him.
"What?"
Their silence continued.
"Oh, come on. I can stop whenever I want to."
"Prove it." His dad wasted no time. "No more
drinking at all. Not even midweek."
His mom looked so hopeful, her brown eyes wide and shining
up at him. God, he loved these two people.
"Okay. I won't have another drink for the next seven
days."
"It's a start," said Rita.
"I'm going to empty the liquor cabinet when we leave
tonight," Nicky said. "Just to make sure."
Dan's mind raced, picturing the rest of the house. Yeah,
he'd brought a bottle to his bedroom last week.
"Okay."
"And I'll check out the rest of the place," Nicky added.
"No," Dan replied quickly.
His dad was like that. Always knew what was going on in his
kids' heads, in their lives. Dan, Joe, Theresa— none
of them ever got away with anything when they were small,
and it seemed they wouldn't as adults, either. Not even the
quarterback for the New England Patriots.
"No?" repeated Nick softly. "I've done some
research, Danny. That's what a twelve-step sponsor would do
with you. Together, you'd clean out the house. Your brother
and I, we're going to act like your sponsors."
"No. You're not." He gulped for air. A face-off with
his dad was an extraordinary event, but now he looked Nicky
straight in the eye. "I'm over twenty-one, Dad. I can
handle it."
Stalemate. Until his mom's soft voice interrupted. "What
would Kim say, Danny, if she saw you like this?"
Mothers. He grabbed the back of a chair with two hands.
"If I could have her with me again," he replied, his
Adam's apple bobbing, "I'd give up everything. The
bottles. The touchdowns. The career. The house. The money.
Nothing I've got is worth a damn thing without her."
Fighting the tears behind his eyes, he turned around, walked
past his mother and into the house, opened the fridge and
took out a longneck. "Anyone else?"
"There's no talking to him," said Nicky.
Rita sighed and banged a plate onto the table. "At least
eat first. Today is only Tuesday. Do we have to come back
tomorrow?"
Ordinarily,Alexis wouldn't have connected the crisp cool
days and blazing autumn colors of New England with perfect
football weather. In fact, she wouldn't have noted the
football season at all. Alexis was not a fan of the game, a
game where grown men tried to kill their opponents and
themselves. During the three months since Michelle's birth,
however, she'd made it her business to read the sports pages
every day and track the progress of the New England
Patriots. She'd focused mainly on one particular player: Dan
Delito, starting QB and captain of the team. From what she
read, the man obviously knew his business, worked hard and
was leading his team in a winning season.
On Wednesday, two mornings after her phone conversation with
Roz, Alexis noted the NFL schedule for the following Sunday
and then headed toward her bedroom, where it sounded as
though Michelle had awakened from her nap. As soon as the
baby saw her, she flashed her magical baby grin, and
Alexis's heart melted one more time. Her love for this child
constantly astounded her. In the beginning, after Michelle
was born, Alexis had had no idea how awesome motherhood
would be.
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