Almost a Family (9 page)

The light from the window provided enough silhouette to reveal he'd wrapped a towel around his waist. He paused by his bed long enough to fling back the covers and drop the towel. Virginia squeezed her eyes shut and listened to the creak of springs as he lowered his big body onto the old mattress. She counted as he punched his pillow four times and rolled over twice before settling down. Same old routine, she thought sadly, minus the part where he'd lay his hand on her stomach before falling asleep.

As pain ballooned in her chest, she twisted the sheet in her hands and brought it to her mouth, fighting the urge to call out his name. She had to regain control of the situation, and fast. She'd once heard that in any relationship, romantic or otherwise, the person who cared the least had the most power. A wry laugh died in her throat. If the saying was true, between the two of them Bailey definitely had the most power.

Then a thought occurred to her. She could be the person who
appeared
to care the least. Bailey Kallihan was wrong—she was a great actress, and she would play the part convincingly until her heart healed completely. Eventually, she'd get over him.

But her heart squeezed sadly, reminding her that if she pulled off this part, she'd deserve an Academy Award.

* * *

Bailey started awake, disoriented at first, then remembering where he slept: in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, in the shelter where his son was staying, in a hot room exactly five strides from Ginny's bed.

Moonlight streamed through the opening of the curtains at the small window. He estimated approximately an hour had passed since the last time he'd awakened, with about four more hours to go until dawn. He knuckled his scratchy eyes, then swung his legs to the floor and sat on the side of the bed.

Ginny lay in the shadows of the wall, her figure barely discernible. After a few seconds passed and she hadn't stirred, he stood up gingerly and padded over to her bedside, standing close enough to make out her features. She lay on her back, one arm folded across her stomach, the other flung wide. She was so lovely. High cheekbones and finely arched brows, a sculpted nose and full mouth. Her hair fanned over the pillow, tangled and wild.

His gaze roved lower. She'd kicked off the covers, as was her habit. A spaghetti strap from her camisole had slipped off her shoulder, offering a tempting glimpse of the curve of her breast. The silky fabric had crept up, displaying her flat, sexy stomach. The skimpy panties were nearly hidden in the valley created by her slightly raised knee. And underneath all that luscious, smooth skin lay a heart of pure gold and a passion of pure intensity.

His naked body responded to his musings, and it took every ounce of discipline he had not to crawl in beside her and stroke her to full consciousness. She had wanted him earlier, he was sure of it. Ginny had always been forthright about her feelings—he'd been the accomplished cover-up artist. So why had she pulled back?

A disturbing thought struck him. Perhaps she did want him, in the physical sense, but felt no affection, no love for him. To a woman like Ginny, sex without emotion would be a mistake. Maybe that's why she'd changed her mind—because she had absolutely no feelings for him.

Although many obstacles blocked the road toward a long-term relationship between them, Bailey had never doubted their true affection for each other. If that one flickering flame had been doused in Ginny's heart, his chances of winning her back were bleak indeed. He took an enormous breath and exhaled slowly, then limped back to his bed. The worst of the night was yet to come.

* * *

"Did you sleep well?" Ms. Andrews asked.

Virginia nodded, lying. Her normal ten-minute makeup application had stretched to thirty that morning in an attempt to camouflage her tired, puffy eyes. Bailey and his luggage had been gone when she awoke, his bed passably made. Her momentary relief had given way to growing concern because she would have preferred their first exchange after the awkward evening be conducted in private.

Chad's counselor pushed a newspaper across the table. "I thought you might want to see this."

Frowning, Virginia picked up the paper. It was startling to see herself standing next to Bailey in a picture after all these years. She looked scared and shy, he looked confident and comforting, his arm draped around her protectively.
Return of Kidnapped Boy After Eight Years Could Reunite Divorced Parents.
The story gave scant details of the kidnapping and of the reunion, giving the most space to Bailey's quip implying they might get back together.

Virginia rolled her eyes. Love conquers all, love is the answer, all you need is love—the media portrayed romantic love as some kind of panacea, but she'd learned long before that it took more than love to keep a relationship together. Her love for Bailey had been unshakable, yet her marriage had crumbled anyway. Pushing the paper aside, she laughed dryly. "Don't believe everything you read, Ms. Andrews."

The woman gave her a bolstering smile. "Ms. Catron, the media would like to wrap up this miracle like a pretty package and put a big bow on top—everyone loves a happy ending. But make no mistake—all of you will have some trying times ahead. If I can be of help, don't hesitate to call me."

"Do you suggest family counseling?"

Ms. Andrews hesitated. "I never discourage anyone from seeking family counseling if they feel the need. But I've spent a lot of time with Chad these past few weeks, and he seems like a well-adjusted boy, if a little mature for his age. And you seem to have a supportive network in your parents and your ex-husband."

Virginia nodded. "My parents will help anyway they can." Bailey seemed eager to get to know his son, but she wasn't sure yet how much she could rely on him.

"Then I think the most healing therapy is love and time."

Virginia thanked the woman, while wondering if her fear was so transparent. When Ms. Andrews said she was going to make sure Chad was awake and packed, Virginia washed down her butterflies with a swallow of coffee and offered to go instead. Through a maze of hallways, she found the room Chad shared with another boy and quietly knocked on the door.

When the door opened, Bailey stood on the other side, looking well rested in a pale blue polo shirt tucked into neat jeans. His smile was blinding. "Morning, Ginny."

"Good morning," she said cautiously, stepping inside.

Chad stood on his side of the room, stuffing clothes into a green duffel bag. He glanced up and acknowledged her presence with a sour frown. Virginia squashed down the hurt. "Good morning, Chad."

"Hey," he said, his voice low and sullen.

She glanced around the shared room, noting his roommate was absent, probably at breakfast. The furniture and comforters were generic but colorful, the wall and floor coverings basic and functional. "Nice room," she offered with a smile.

"It's not mine," Chad pointed out.

Remembering the feminine guest room awaiting his arrival, Virginia cringed inwardly and asked, "What was your room like?"

Chad shrugged, barely glancing up. "Lots of posters. I had a sign on the door that said 'Keep Out.'" He looked up as if to gauge her response. "I'm bringing the sign with me."

She nodded. "Everyone needs privacy." She tried a different tactic and nodded to the handheld Nintendo gaming device lying on top of his duffel. "Do you like to play video games?"

He nodded warily.

"I'm pretty good at them myself," she said, holding out her hand. "Can I try?"

He grabbed the Nintendo and held it down to his side protectively. "My mom gave this to me for Christmas last year. It was expensive."

Ginny swallowed hard. Again she'd overstepped her bounds.

"I spoke with Mr. Maybry this morning," Bailey interjected. "I arranged to have all your things shipped to Ginny's house later this week."

"Do you have a yard?" Chad asked her.

She nodded. "A small one in the back."

"Is there room for a basketball goal?"

She hated to disappoint him, but shook her head. "No, but there's a park just a few blocks away." When he didn't respond, she asked, "Did you play on your school team?"

The frown returned. "No. You got to have lots of money for uniforms and shoes and stuff."

Her heart squeezed for him. "Maybe you can play at your new school this fall."

He looked up. "Are you rich?"

She laughed. "No, but you can participate in any sport you want to, as long as you keep up your grades."

He waved off her concern with a cool flip of his hand. "School's a breeze. You just got to listen and ask lots of questions so the teacher will think you're interested."

"Ms. Andrews told us you're a good student."

Another shrug. "Whatever."

"Well," Bailey said with a wink, "looks like you inherited something from Ginny after all—plenty of smarts."

Chad scanned Virginia head to toe, doubt evident on his face.

She cast for a new topic and settled on the trip home. "Have you ever been on a plane before?"

"No," he said defensively. "But me and my mom went to see the space shuttle launch two years ago. It was real cool."

"I'll bet it was," she agreed, the repeated references to his "mother" not lost on her.

"Are you all packed?" Bailey asked.

Chad looked around the room. "Yeah."

Bailey reached for the duffel bag. "Is there anyone you want to say good-bye to before we go to the airport?"

After pondering the question, Chad angled his head at them, a challenge in his eyes. "Yeah—I want to stop by my mom's grave."

Virginia inhaled sharply but kept her face immobile. She traded glances with Bailey, who raised one eyebrow slightly in question. She nodded, then looked back to her son. "I think that would be a very nice thing to do."

Chad stared at her for a few seconds, chewing on the inside of his cheek, then grabbed his Nintendo and walked out the door.

Once again they were offered the taxi services of the shelter's van. They used the back entrance of the building to avoid lingering reporters, but if anything, the throng had grown in size. They were mostly interested in Chad, angling and shoving one another for the best shot. To shake the reporters tailing them, Mr. Maybry took a zigzag route across town to the cemetery where Lois Green had been buried less than eight weeks before.

Her heart pounding, Virginia accompanied Bailey and Chad to the unmarked grave on a steep incline, mounded with crumbly dirt. A single rusty white metal basket and bits of dead, dried flower stems were the only signs that anyone had acknowledged the woman's passing.

Virginia had prepared herself to be overcome with feelings of hatred and resentment for the woman who had cheated her out of her family, but as she stood in the scorching sun watching Chad stare forlornly at the baked earth, pity for the dead woman was the only emotion that seemed appropriate at the moment. Chad knelt down on one knee, pulled a weed from the loose dirt, and tossed it aside. He held his precious game player tightly in one hand.

"Hey, Mom." His voice sounded steady and grownup, and Virginia felt precariously close to tears. "These people have come to take me to Ohio to live with them. I don't know when I'll be back to see you, but I'll think about you all the time. Just remember I love you, and that no one can take your place." His voice cracked on the last words, and his head dropped for a few seconds.

Virginia bit down hard on her tongue. In Chad's eyes, no one would ever be able to replace Lois Green. His resentment toward Ginny was palpable. Did she have a prayer of ever growing close to her son?

Bailey shifted, coughing lightly. Chad stood up quickly, dragging his hand across his face, then walked back to the van.

The ride to the hotel to pick up her folks and Detective Lance was a quiet one. Only Ms. Andrews and Mr. Maybry broke the silence with light conversation. Virginia sat immersed in guilt, confusion, and the ever-present fear. And the emotions Bailey had stirred up the night before only cluttered the situation further. At least their exchanges had been cordial, if strained, with no mention of their mutual lapse.

Prearranged airport security met them curbside to keep the persistent cameras at a safe distance until they were processed through the general security lines. At the gate, Bailey kept a protective hand on Chad's shoulder while they waited to board. She was glad to see Chad had abandoned his surliness for the time being in his excitement over getting on the plane. Standing with his face and hands pressed against the window, watching the planes depart and land, he appeared to be a typical eight-year-old, mesmerized by the giant machines, anticipating a new adventure.

Chad's engaging grin evoked mixed emotions in Virginia—extreme joy at seeing her son happy, and extreme anxiety at the challenge to keep him that way. After watching father and son interact for several minutes, she realized with a start that Chad had begun to seek Bailey's attention. When momentary envy subsided, the touching moment triggered an additional sobering thought.

She and Chad did have one common trait—they were both captivated by Bailey Kallihan.

Chapter 6