Free A Mother's Homecoming by Tanya Michaels

again.
My taste in women sucks.
    â€œI’ll think about it,” Pam said. “But standing on my aunt’s porch bullying me isn’t going to get you the result you want any faster. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m late for a meeting.”
    â€œReally?” He quirked an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem to be in such a hurry to get rid of Dawn.”
    â€œYeah, well, I didn’t feel such a pressing need to go to a meeting when she was here, either.”
    He leaned in closer, studying her as intently as a forensics investigator seeking clues. She swallowed, shuffling back a little, although the rocker left her nowhere to go.
    â€œYou’re serious,” he decided. Despite her matter-of-fact tone, there was a barely banked urgency in her shifting eyes. “What kind of meeting?”
    â€œAA. I scoped out times and places online, just in case.” She gave a short bark of laughter. “Turns out the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. I’m Mae’s daughter through and through.”
    â€œAlcoholics Anonymous? But you never drank.” The most he’d ever seen her imbibe was a wine cooler.
    â€œI told you, Nick.” Her voice softened, more apologetic than argumentative. “You don’t know me.”
    â€œNot because I didn’t want to.” He locked gazes with her. “You took that choice away.”
    â€œIt was the best thing for all of us.”
    Based on what, her woman’s intuition? The fact was, they’d never know. Maybe he and Pamela Jo and Faith could have been a happy family, once they’d found their footing, moved out of his parents’ house. But she hadn’t given them a chance.
    â€œWe’ll have to agree to disagree,” Nick said. He hadn’t come here to debate the past. He just wanted to help Faith. “You should trust me, as the man who raised her, to have a good idea of what’s best for my daughter now. She should meet you. Think about it?”
    â€œEvery waking second,” she said grimly.
    He took out his wallet and reached for his business cards. Holding one out to her, he said, “My number’s on here. Let me know, whichever way you decide.”
    Her arms remained crossed over her chest. “I don’t need that. It’s a small town. I can find you.”
    Was she so determined to keep her distance from him and Faith that she couldn’t even extend a hand? His temper sparked. “Just take the damn card, Pamela Jo.”
    â€œIt’s Pam.”
    He ground his teeth. “Take the card, Pam. Please.”
    With obvious reluctance, she complied, delicately grasping the very edge between her fingers. It stung more than it should have, the way she rejected him with every motion and mannerism. Why should he be surprised by her abhorrence to being around him or Faith? She’d made it clear in the letter she’d left on his nightstand years ago, the one that had granted him absolute, uncontested custody of the baby she didn’t love.
    Despite his promise to Faith, he teetered on the brink of just telling Pam to forget it, not to do them any favors.
    But then she asked in a tiny voice, “Do you have a picture? Of how she looks now?”
    The request startled him. “Yeah. Hang on.” He once again retrieved his wallet, fumbling this time. An entire clear plastic section showcased Faith’s maturation from a chubby-faced baby to the grinning honors student who would be dating boys and driving cars before he knew it. He pulled out her school photo from last spring. “This one’s recent, only a few months old.”
    Pam swallowed. “She’s beautiful.”
    She looks like her mother.
Faith’s hair was the same color as his, but she had Pam’s features and build. “She has your smile.” He wasn’t sure why he was compelled to point that out, when surely Pam could seethe resemblance for herself, or why he