When Macy arrived home at noon, she found Parker on the lounge floor, busy with his Xbox and a slab of chocolate.  She shook her head.

'I'm going to cut your allowance,' Macy walked in throwing her handbag on the counter.

'What have I done mum?  It's Saturday and I finished all my homework last night.'

'You eat far too many chocolates,' she dropped down next to Parker on the floor, and kissed his cheek.

Parker laughed.  'I didn't see you last night mum,' he looked up into her face.

'I know sweetheart. I was called to the hospital.  There was an accident; learners on a school bus.  I got home at about four in the morning.'

'Oh,' he looked sad.  'Are they ___ all okay.'

  'No fatalities,' she smiled.  'Just two very critical.  The others were kept overnight for observation.'

'I'm glad,' he picked up his console again.  'Are you going to lie down mum?'

'No,' she patted the back of his head absently.  'I did get some rest before I went in this morning.  Did you have some lunch Parker?'

'Grandma made me ham and tomato rolls.  It was yummy,' he licked his lips.

Macy smiled.  'Did you want to do something this afternoon?' She invited.

He shook his head.  'I just want to play cricket with Brooklyn.  I was waiting for you to come home,' he looked at her, awaiting her nod of approval.

'Sure,' she gave him the nod, suspecting he opted not to go out, so she could rest.  'So ___ I'll read a book or something in the patio, after I say hi to grandma.'

  Macy had been lounging with a paperback out in the patio, when she heard the doorbell.  She stepped inside, walked to the door and opened it.

     'Twain!  What are you doing here?'  She dragged her eyes away from his attractive face and very kissable lips.

He just stood staring at her.  She is so beautiful, he thought.  She was dressed in a chunky sweater and tight fitting denims, like a second skin on her shapely legs.  He wanted to ravish her.  They had unfinished business...

'I thought I told you not to come in to work,' his eyes met hers sternly.

Her eyes narrowed flagrantly.  'You might be my employer,' she hissed, 'but I don't need any special treatment, besides, I did rest before I went in this morning"...unlike you.  He needed the rest more than she did.

  She thought he'd be in bed.  He'd been in theatre all night and most of the morning.  He should be dead on his feet.  She looked up into his face.  He looked fresh, like he'd just showered.  He looked energetic and full of life.  He did not look like a man who had not slept in thirty six hours....still he looked so good.  Best she tear her eyes away before he discover her lusting after him.

'What you reading?'  He grinned, his eyes on the book in her hand.

'N__nothing important,' she hid the book behind her back.

It was a romance novel about an Arabian prince who was so much like Twain, tall, dark, handsome, powerful and oozing sex appeal.  The prince had fallen in love with a poor woman from the other side of the high society he lived in.  The prince had married his pauper and after a week of patiently enduring laborious ceremonial rituals, the prince was about to consummate his marriage.  Macy had just got to the interesting part .... when Twain had knocked on her door.

"'Nothing?'" he laughed, reaching for her book.

She went scarlet.  'Twain___ no!'  She took a step back, holding tightly onto the book.

He stopped, seeing her sudden discomfort and nodded, 'Okay,' he held his hands up surrenderingly, the smile disappearing off his face.

  'What are you doing here?'  She asked again.

Twain looked her squarely in the eyes.  'I want to discuss the arrangements for our wedding.  You need to ___.

'Twain!  Stop badgering me about marrying you.  I am not going to!'  She raised her voice.

His eyes darkened.  'You know we need to do this ___ for Parker's sake.'

'Do we?'  She laughed sarcastically, storming back into her lounge.  She slipped the book into her handbag.  She knew Twain followed her in.  She turned to do battle with him.

His teeth clenched, the cords in his neck stood out explicitly.  She could see from the contorted look on his grim face that Twain was barely controlling his anger, but she'd had enough of his bullying tactics.

'Where were you, ten years ago, when you were needed Twain?'  She dished out a look of supreme contempt. She hated to play the victim's role, but damn it, he'd just pushed her to the limit.  'You should have been there when I went into labour,' she accused.  'I wanted the father of my child there, then,' moisture filled her eyes.  With much effort, she bravely held back the tears.

Twain stared uncomfortably.  He did not defend himself.  Torment and anguish washed over his face.  His eyes lifted to hers as she continued to attack him.

'Parker needed you in those defining first twelve months.  You should have been there to shape his life,' she censured.  'Where were you, Twain?'

Twain was grief stricken.  He could not argue with her reasoning, not when she was right.

'I am sorry Macy,' remorse accompanied his apology.  'I am very sorry, that I was not there.  And you have every right to be angry with me.  I take full responsibility for failing you and Parker.'

Macy didn't want him apologizing.  She wanted him to make excuses, to lie...anything, to shift the blame to her for not ensuring she didn't fall pregnant, instead he was poking holes with her reasoning not to marry him.  She didn't want him giving her ammunition to justify her feelings for him.

'Macy, ten years ago when you called me, I thought you were ___ mistaken about the identity of the father.  I was fully persuaded then, that I could not have impregnated you,' his voice had dropped.  He was not looking at her anymore.  'I didn't know, I was the only man in your life, Macy.'

'Why didn't you demand a DNA test then, just to prove me wrong?  She challenged.  'You should have tried to do right by me then, Twain?'

'Macy!'  He raked his hands through his hair.  'Perhaps, back then, even if we did  a paternity test, I may have went down on one bended knee and  married you out of a sense of duty,  but I guarantee, we would have divorced within a year,' he turned away from her.   'I was twenty four, focused on my career, determined to hone my skills as a surgeon.  Perhaps I would have resented being trapped in a marriage, before I was ready and mature enough to shoulder my responsibility.  'Is that what you would have wanted?'

'You were being cruel to be kind then? She laced him with a dagger like glare.    'By abandoning me....?'

Her insult hit him like a ton of bricks.  By extension, her silent accusation was that he had abandoned his child...his son...the Crawford heir.

Couldn't she understand, physicians had informed him he could not father children... that the damage was permanent.  He had believed the doctors.  He believed in the logic of science.  He had never suspected that by some miracle, what doctors had told him as a teenager - was not permanent!  How could he have known that?

Twain turned away, hiding the tear that had slid down his cheek.  He had missed so much of his baby's life.  His first smile.  His first step.  His first tooth. 
I bet his first word was 'mum.' 
And all the other sports events.  Twain inhailed heavily.  Now he understood the compulsion that had dragged him to Parker's sports event. 

Parker...my son.

Twain prepared to reason with her again.  'I am not justifying my actions.  I know I failed you and I failed my son.  But I am ready now Macy.  I am ready to take responsibility.  You have provided indisputable, scientific proof that Parker is my child.  I cannot ignore that.  I cannot continue to live, separated from Parker, knowing I should be there for him on a daily basis.  I need Parker too.'

Tears streamed down her eyes.  It was not all his fault.  Science had been unfair to him.  Perhaps he was right too ... had they married ten years ago, he would have resented her for robbing him of his freedom.  Perhaps she would have been a hindrance in him achieving the professional success he now basked in.  She knew the Twain of ten years ago would not have embraced marriage.  Perhaps he was right, they may have become just another number in divorce statistics.  Macy looked up and there was moisture in his eyes.  Definitely not pity for himself, but frustration because he wanted to be a permanent feature in Parker's life.  She could sense his feeling of isolation...separation  He looked so forlorn standing there.  She longed to wrap her arms around him...comfort him...kiss him.

Macy turned away.  It hurt to look at the grief on Twain's face.  But she could not marry him.  He could become a permanent feature in Parker's life, without them marrying.

'Macy?' 

She knew he was waiting for the answer he wanted; for her to agree to them marrying.

I can't do it Twain,' she whispered.  'I cannot marry you.  Not now.  Parker is not ready.  He has to be comfortable with the man I marry.'

'I'm not just any man,' he placed his hands on her shoulders.  'I am Parker's father.'

'I need Parker's blessing,' she argued.  He has to be an integral part, of ___ the relationship.  I cannot force my son into this.'

Twain flinched.  She had not said our son.  It hurt him that Macy excluded him, that she regarded Parker as only hers.

'Don't you want Parker to enjoy the stability of having a mother and father who are married?'

'Don't force me into this Twain.  Don't trivialize marriage.  It's a sacred institution.  'I cannot marry you, knowing Parker may resent that.  I can't risk hurting him.  He's all I have...that belongs to me.

'That's not true Macy.  You have me.'

No  You're only doing this for Parker...not me.

She shook her head vehemently.  I don't have your heart.

'I want to be a part of your life.  But you won't allow it.'

I can't marry you Twain.  It would kill me to marry a man who does not love me.  Especially when I ...

'Mum,' Parker came running in.  'Is that Dr. ___.'  Parker stood still.  He observed the sadness in his mother's eyes.  'Dr. Crawford,' he finished, glaring accusingly at Twain.

Twain heaved a sigh and greeted his son.  'Hey Parker,' he smiled.

'Dr. Crawford,' Parker responded grudgingly.

'Parker,' Twain went down on his haunches.  'How about you call me ___ Twain.  My colleagues and patients call me Dr. Crawford,' he smiled.

Macy fought back the tears.  She knew Twain would much rather hear Parker calling him "dad."  But she knew Parker was not yet ready to accept Twain in that role and she knew Twain waited patiently for Parker to acknowledge him as his father.  But Twain was man enough to perceive that he had to be patient.

'Whose car is it?'  Brooklyn came running in, almost smack, bang into Parker's back.

But Parker had not heard Brooklyn.  His eyes were curiously focused on Twain.

'Parker?'  Brooklyn nudged his friend.

'It's ___Twain's car,' Parker murmured.  'He's a cardiologist.' There was almost a glint of pride in Parker's announcement.

'A card ___ a ___what?'

Parker rolled his eyes.  'A heart specialist,' Parker tapped Brooklyn's chest hintingly.

'Wow dude,' Brooklyn squealed. 'Cool car.'  He raised his hand to smack a high five and Twain responded accordingly.

'I could give you guys a ride,' Twain offered, if it's okay with you.'  Twain's eyes met Macy's.

She nodded.  Parker looked up at his mum.  She smiled adoringly.

'Can I sit in the front?'  Brooklyn pleaded.

'No, I'm sitting in the front,' Parker and Brooklyn shoved at  each others' shoulders.

Twain stood there hesitantly as the boys waited for him to get going.    He would much  rather have his son seated in the front, but he did not want to hurt Brooklyn either.

Twain stared from one boy to the other in indecision.

'I'm having the front seat,' Macy declared.  She saw the relief in Twain's face.

'Okay, that settles it then,' Parker announced in an adult like tone.  'Let's go then,' he held his hand out to his mum.

Brooklyn rushed out followed by Twain.

'Are you okay mum?

'Yes, sweetheart,' she smiled brightly.

'Did you make Twain cry mum?'

Macy looked uncomfortably into Parker's face.  He was just too perceptive.

'We ___ were having an argument,' she admitted.

'Better him than you then,' Parker spoke dismissively.

'Parker!'

'I don't like him,' Parker's tone was defiant.

 Macy placed her hand on his shoulder holding him back.  'You need to let Twain in, Parker.  He wants to be a part of your life.  He has a right to.  We need to give him a chance.'

'Why?' Parker questioned with all the disdain of a nine year old.

'Mind your manners Parker! Macy reprimanded him softly.

'Sorry mum.' He studied his shoes, embarrassedly.

'Do this for me Parker ___ please.'

'Okay mum,' he agreed uncomfortably.  'I'll try.'

'Thank you,' she drew him into her arms and kissed him on the forehead.

'Umm ___ Twain's waiting mum.'

'Okay, big boy,' she laughed softly, took his hand and rushed to Twain's car.

When they returned from the drive the boys had run out again, after Twain had bought them ice-creams at the convenience store.  There was still the uncomfortable tension between Macy and Twain.  She had offered him coffee.  He seemed in no hurry to leave.  He was lounging on her settee, looking reflective, sipping his coffee.  Macy didn't volunteer any conversation.

 Macy was surprised at the sound of the doorbell again.  Relieved to get away from Twain, she gladly escaped to answer the door.

'Nicky ___hi!' Macy hid her surprise.

'I hope it's a good time,' she brushed past Macy, holding a box, which Macy suspected was a home baked chocolate cake for Parker. 
'Your mum said you'd be home by twelve and that you had no plans.'

She didn't until the boss also decided to gate crash.

'Umm ___ no plans,' Macy agreed.

Nicky stopped dead in her tracks, when she saw the male hunk spread-eagled on Macy's sofa.

'Ooh la la!'  Nicky whispered to Macy with a mischievous wink.  'Introduce me,' Nicky demanded.

 Macy squirmed silently.  Twain rose to his feet when Nicky preceded Macy into the lounge.

'Hello,' Nicky reached out her hand.

'Twain,' Macy reluctantly intervened.  'Meet my best friend Nicky Stone.  'Nick, this is Dr. Twain Crawford.'

'Hi,' Nicky just stared in fascination at Twain, neither was she letting go of his hand.

'Pleasure to meet you,' Twain greeted courteously.

'You're married,' Macy again intervened, removing her friend's hand from Twain's.

'I know that,' Nicky glared at her friend.

'Macy, thank you for coffee,' he placed his cup on the coffee table.  'Be seeing you,' he smiled at Macy 'and a pleasure to have met you,' he turned to Nicky.

'Same here,' Nicky sighed.

Macy followed Twain to the door to let him out.  'Bye,' he murmured, kissing her on the lips.  'I'll call you tomorrow,' he promised.

'Bye,' she nodded and reluctantly made her way to where Nicky stood waiting.

'That's Parker's father!'

Macy was astonished that Nicky could tell so accurately.  'How'd you know?' she whispered.

'Parker has that exact same smile,' she grinned.  'And that distinctive square cut jaw,' she added.  'He's a doctor!  Good heavens, he is one sexy stud,' she laughed.

'Isn't he,' Macy concurred.

'Why did you keep him a secret?' Nicky demanded.

Macy shrugged, unwilling to discuss Twain at the moment.  'Can I make some coffee?' Macy offered.

'Thank you,' I'd love some,' Nicky astutely noted, her friend was still not prepared to speak about her mysterious lover.

             -end chapter fifteen-