Authors: Susan Mallery
Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Historical
Jill knelt on the carpet and pulled Danny close to her. "Honey, people grow at different rates. Look at your uncles and your dad. You'll catch up. If not this year, then soon. Even if you don't, it's still all right. You don't have to be tall. You're wonderful just the way you are. Besides, didn't we decide that the best things come in small packages?"
But Danny didn't smile at her joke. He clung to her, sobbing as if his heart was broken. She held on, murmuring words of comfort, wondering why she ever thought she would be able to take this job and not get involved.
* * *
That night, after the boys were in bed, Jill asked Craig if she could speak with him. Evenings were the worst for the two of them. As soon as they were alone, the tension in the room climbed to an unbearable pitch. Usually they compensated by ignoring it. They were painfully polite in choosing television shows or movies to watch. Sometimes they just read, but that, too, was fraught with pitfalls. There was the choice of music, the volume, who used which lamp, the problem of chuckling at a funny part, then deciding whether or not to explain the humor.
Often, Jill sat staring unseeingly at the pages of her book, willing herself to find the courage to talk about what had happened between them. She kept thinking that if they could discuss the intimacy they'd shared, they would be able to find a new level of understanding. If they couldn't be lovers, they cold at least be friends.
The problem was, she wanted to be lovers. She hadn't been able to think of anything else since they'd returned from Glenwood. Night after night she relived those wonderful hours with Craig. He was the kind of lover most women only dreamed about. Gentle, considerate, patient, and as much concerned about her pleasure as his own.
She kept remembering him telling her they could give the relationship a chance. Her fear got in the way of that one. So where did that leave them?
It would have been easier to forget everything if they hadn't gotten along so well in the other areas of their lives. If they'd disagreed over how to discipline the boys, or if he'd hated her cooking or was dating someone. But none of that was true, which made pretending to be immune to him even more difficult.
"I need to talk to you about Danny," she said, standing in the center of the family room. "If this is a good time?"
"Sure." He put down the book he was reading and motioned for her to take a seat on the sofa.
She sat a couple of cushions away and angled toward him. The overhead light illuminated him clearly. She could see the faint gray at his temples, the stubble darkening his cheeks. His expression was politely interested. Not by even a flicker of a lash did he give away what he was really thinking.
Now that he was on a regular schedule, he changed out of his uniform when he got home from work. She'd finally grown used to seeing him in jeans and a shirt, although the sight of worn denim caressing his thighs still had the ability to make her heart race.
Tonight she ignored the soft, faded material and the way it hugged his muscles. She kept her attention on her hands.
"What about Danny?" he asked, prompting her.
"He hasn't been himself for the past week or so."
"I thought I noticed something. I asked him about it a couple of days ago, but he said he was fine."
She glanced at him. "I didn't realize you'd seen it, too."
"I was going to mention it, but there wasn't anything to say. I thought maybe I was imagining things. Obviously I'm not."
"No. This afternoon he didn't want to do anything. He just went in his room, sat on his bed and hugged his bear."
Craig frowned. "I don't like the sound of that. He'd practically relegated that to the closet. So what's the problem?"
She smiled. "Actually it's nothing to worry about. He showed me the wall by the computer where you keep track of the box's' heights at different ages. He's concerned that he's shorter than both Ben and C.J. were when they turned seven. His birthday is only a few weeks away, and he knows he can't catch up. I told him that everyone grows at different rates of speed. He'll catch up eventually. I think he feels better now. He was more cheerful at dinner. But maybe you could talk to him and tell him he's perfect the way he is. Maybe…" She trailed off.
Craig wasn't paying attention to what she was saying anymore. He stared past her, eyebrows drawn together as if he were wrestling with a difficult problem. A muscle twitched in his cheek. Something dark and painful passed through his eyes.
"Damn," he said softly. "I didn't want it to come up like this."
Cold fear rippled down Jill's spine. "Like what? Craig, what's wrong? Is he sick? Oh, God, he doesn't have something wrong with him, does he?"
When he didn't speak, she leaned forward and grasped his forearm. "Answer me, damn it. What's wrong with Danny?"
Craig drew in a deep breath. "Nothing. He's not sick. At least not that I know of. He's fine." He glanced down at her hand and touched the backs of her fingers. "I swear to you, Jill. It's not that."
Slowly she released him. Worry had formed a knot in the pit of her stomach. At his reassurance, it loosened a little, but didn't go away. "Then what is it?"
"Can we please not talk about this?" he asked.
She stared at him, not sure how to answer. "If you prefer, but I'd like to help."
"No one can help… Hell, you might as well know the truth."
He pulled free of her touch and looked straight ahead. He braced his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. "I don't know how tall Danny is going to be when he grows up. I don't know what he's going to look like or what he's going to want to be. I don't know anything about him."
"I don't understand."
"Danny's not my son."
Jill stared at him, uncomprehending. Not his son? Danny? Little Danny with the big eyes and the smile that— The smile that didn't look anything like his father's.
"Wait a minute," she said, half to herself. "That's crazy. Sure he doesn't look as much like you as the other two, but he has some of Krystal's features. The shape of his eyes. If you adopted him—"
He straightened and shook his head. "We didn't adopt him. He's Krystal's. He's just not mine."
She opened her mouth but didn't know what to say. Not his? That was crazy. "Then how did you get him?"
"I didn't plan it, that's for damn sure." He leaned back against the sofa. If his hands hadn't been curled into tight fists, she might have thought the telling didn't affect him. But the white knuckles and straining tendons gave him away. She ached for him.
"Krystal and I had been separated, but still in the same house," he said. "Not the best way to live or bring up kids, Ben was five, C.J. barely two. She didn't bring her men home. I used to tell myself that was something. God, I was a fool."
"I'm sorry," she said softly.
"Me, too." He closed his eyes. "I told you before she'd been unfaithful from the beginning."
"Yes."
"Once we'd finally started talking about getting a divorce, she went wild. Coming in at all hours of the night, usually drunk. Men started calling here. I hated it and her. Then one night, she came on to me. I was immune by then, and she was furious. She finally blurted out she was pregnant and had planned to pass the kid off as mine. But when I wouldn't cooperate, she was forced to tell me the truth."
Jill shuddered. Craig's pain filled the room. She wanted to comfort him the same way she'd comforted Danny earlier that afternoon. But Craig wasn't a six-year-old boy. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs.
"At first I thought she was going to have an abortion," he continued, opening his eyes, but not looking at her. "She didn't. I don't know why, and I never bothered to ask. As her pregnancy started to show, she became less active, sexually, although she still went out at night."
"You never asked who the father was?"
"No. I told her I didn't care. In my heart, I was curious, and hurt, but I didn't want her to know. She asked to stay until the baby was born, then she'd move out. She'd decided to give it up for adoption. I agreed. Ben and C.J. didn't really understand what was going on. I tried to shield them from her as much as possible."
He glanced at her and grimaced. "I couldn't disconnect from her, though. When her time came, I drove her to the hospital, but instead of leaving I stayed. What a sucker I was. I hated her, but even she deserved someone there. Then they brought me this tiny baby and placed him in my arms. Krystal hadn't bothered to make any arrangements. I saw her staring at me and then I knew. She'd planned it all along. She'd known I would take in her child. I never despised her more than I did at that moment. But I couldn't blame the kid for what his mother had done."
"You did the right thing," she whispered, too stunned to do more than take in all that he was telling her. Danny wasn't his. She couldn't believe it. He'd never even given a hint. Of course, being Craig, he wouldn't ever slight the boy. He'd had her convinced Danny was his favorite.
"I couldn't let him go to strangers," he said. "Besides, by then Krystal had explained her pregnancy to the boys. They were expecting a baby brother or sister. After she left the hospital, she got her things and that was it."
Craig shifted uneasily on the sofa. He already regretted his confession. Jill was staring at him as if he'd just rescued an entire classroom of children from a burning building.
"I'm not a hero," he said harshly. "Don't start thinking I am."
"What would you call it then?"
"Making the best of a bad situation. I did what any decent person would have done. Keeping Danny was the right decision. I didn't trust Krystal to actually give him up. Do you know what that kid's life would have been like with only her as a parent?"
"He would never have survived."
"Exactly."
The room was silent for a moment. Jill looked at him, studying him as if they'd just met. The lamp behind her made her red hair glow, as if touched by moonlight. Her delicate features were so different from Krystal's obvious and flashy beauty. Why couldn't he have fallen for someone like her instead of Krystal? Then he remembered the boys, and he knew that whatever his ex-wife had cost him, it was worth every payment because he had them.
"Are you going to tell Danny?" she asked.
"Maybe when he's older. I know he already feels a little different. I don't want that information weighing on him, as well. Besides, as far as I'm concerned, Danny is as much mine as Ben and C.J."
"Do you know who—" She paused and shrugged. "You know."
"No, I don't know who his father is. Krystal said she didn't know, either. I don't know if she was lying, but it doesn't matter now. When Danny was born, I had him tested for drug addiction and AIDS." He swore. "I had myself tested, too. Just to be safe. Hell of a thing for a husband to have to do because his wife is a slut. Everything came back negative. I know we got lucky. The way Krystal was living her life, who knows what could have happened. But that's over now."
He was ashamed of his past and talking about it brought everything back. He just wanted to get away.
He rose to his feet. Jill stood up and moved close. "I'm so sorry," she murmured.
"Don't be. It's done. We survived."
"You did better than that." She stared up at him. Tears clung to her lower lashes.
"Stop," he said, touching his finger to the single tear that escaped. "It's not that bad."
"I can't believe she did that to you. And her children. To walk away from them like that. Didn't she know what a precious gift they are?"
"Appreciation was never one of Krystal's best qualities. Besides, it's over now. The boys are fine and I am, too. I'm going to make damn sure I'm never in that situation again."
"Life doesn't come with guarantees."
"Maybe not, but next time I'm not taking any chances."
Chapter 15
C
raig heard soft voices in the hallway, followed by muffled footsteps in the hall. He finished fastening his belt, then opened his bedroom door. Ben and Jill had already reached the front door and were heading outside for their morning walk. He followed after them and arrived at the front door just as they started stretching. He pushed aside the front-window drapes to watch.
It was a perfect late-spring morning. The sky was clear, the air still with just a hint of coolness. Dew coated the lawn, making the individual blades of grass glisten. Pansies and marigolds provided bright color along the walkway.
Ben waited impatiently by the sidewalk. He shifted his weight from foot to foot and motioned for them to get going. Jill laughed. She shook out each leg, then moved toward him.
They were both wearing shorts and T-shirts. His once-pudgy son had slimmed down. According to Jill he'd already lost fifteen of the extra twenty pounds he carried. With his new eating habits and increased activity, the rest would be gone by the end of summer.
Ben had lost more than weight. He'd changed from a sullen boy who never wanted to participate in anything to a funny, outspoken charmer. He would never match C.J.'s natural ability, but he was a close second.