Arnie’s change of clothing a critical once-over and grew serious. “The all-black wardrobe makes this uncomfortably real.”
“Oh, it’s real, all right.”
Eyeing him, his dad muttered, “Your coloring is like a beacon in the night.”
Arnie held up a black beanie. It pulled down to mask his face. “Standard-issue,” he drawled. “Dottie wants to brand a beanie and sell it on the NIGHTWIND website.”
“But there isn’t a NIGHTWIND website or anything else. You guys take flying under the radar seriously.”
He snickered. “Universal truth—the higher and more public your profile, the less effective you are. Also, and not for nothing”—he chuckled—“exclusivity comes with dollar signs. I don’t care about the money, and nobody else does either, but making ‘fuck-you bucks’ sure is sweet.”
His dad made a comically disappointed face. “So what you’re saying is, there’s no website or branded beanie, but y’all make bank?”
“It’s embarrassing how much we make playing a modern version of cops and robbers. Especially when someone with a real fucking job like a teacher or the guy freezing his balls off at the corner newsstand on a frigid winter day—things we can’t be without—struggle to make ends meet.”
He’d never been prouder of being Ned Wanamaker’s son than he was when his dad quietly admitted, “The farm is a business. I draw a salary—a salary I do not need to live, so I donate it directly to a scholarship fund for kids at the university in the environmental sciences program.”
Of course he did. His father was a stand-up guy. The man’s social conscience and generosity didn’t come as a surprise.
He turned the serious moment into something lighthearted with a sly wink. “Did you tell your lady friend about the gray hair ponytail?”
“Are you joking?” His dad snorted and offered an aggrieved smirk. “I took a dozen selfies. She’s probably still laughing her ass off.”
“Um, Dad? Did you, uh, tell her about Summer? And the baby?”
“One hundred.”
“What did she say?” Ordinarily, Arnie wouldn’t care what someone he didn’t know thought, but Dr. Tanya Welcher was important to his father. Period.
His father grew serious. “Starting as I aim to proceed,” he crisply replied. “Learned my lesson.”
“Meaning?”
“Honesty is the only way, son. Try to remember that when you’re on your knees begging Summer to listen.”
“Okay.”
“Tanya doesn’t know you, so her blunt honesty might smart a little, but she asked if you were man enough to step up and take responsibility.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” Arnie snarled, affronted by the suggestion he was a dick.
“Don’t jump down my throat. Nowadays, the question needs asking. You know damn well that being a baby daddy isn’t the same as fatherhood.”
It didn’t matter if his father had a point. He wasn’t just some guy who got a girl pregnant and grimaced mentally, knowing his affront was likely nothing compared to what Summer must have endured while giving birth without his support.
“I hope you set her straight.” With his mouth writing checks the situation wasn’t prepared to cash, he boldly announced how he saw the future. “Once we take Giselle to the cleaners, I intend to claim what’s mine. Getting Summer in front of a minister is priority one.”
“Good luck.” His father’s laughter was far too amused for Arnie’s liking.
“What’s so damn funny?”
“I’ve met your lady, remember? You may have seduced a girl, but I met a strong and confident woman. Don’t be so sure she’s going to fall at your feet once you reveal yourself.”
“I didn’t seduce anyone. Shit. Dad. It was mutual, and well, fuck! I don’t want to discuss this with you.”
Ned Wanamaker’s unique ability to see inside Arnie’s head offered his father a glimpse of the whole picture.
“Oh, dear god. Wait. Wait.” Shrewd eyes bored into Arnie’s skull. “Are you freakin’ serious?” His father’s tone was borderline angry.
“Uh…”
“Jesus H. Christ, son. A virgin. For real?”
“Oh, god,” Arnie moaned. “Stop.”
He felt about a foot tall when his father crossed his arms and glared at him. “The poor girl.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he blurted out. “Don’t you think I’m kicking myself for not stalking her like a crazy man after she slipped through my fingers? I should have run her to ground from day one instead of whining like a pussy about respecting her rights.”
His father’s glare did not soften one bit.
“So, shoot me because I tried to do the honorable thing, okay?”
“Son, I don’t need to know the particulars, but I’m relatively sure if NIGHTWIND wanted to take a look at the president’s taxes, it would happen. Finding Summer would have been