Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Everywhere She Goes\A Promise for the Baby\That Summer at the Shore (38 page)

“Sarah and I ran into the happy couple at the library. Karl was holding
What to Expect When You're Expecting
like it was a land mine he'd fished out of a Cambodian swamp and was afraid to put down.”

“And you kept this from me?”

Miles shrugged. “Wasn't my secret to tell. If I'd known how good the secret was...”

“Neither Vivian's life nor mine is a soap opera to be dissected.” His sisters stopped their chatter, but neither looked particularly apologetic. “Thank you, Miles, for trying to maintain my privacy.”

“Hey, it was worth it to be here at the great reveal.”

Now that his family was all here, he could think about something more concrete than his feelings for Vivian. “Let's focus on Mom's care. Even though the doctor said her recovery would be quick and she could go back to work soon, I think someone should stay with her. Maybe help out at the restaurant. Work is killing me right now, so I can't be here for her. Miles, Renia and Dan, you have the freest schedules. Can you guys care for Mom?”

* * *

W
HY
COULDN
'
T
K
ARL
see the obvious solution?
“I can do it,” Vivian said from her chair, her voice not quite rising to interrupt the arguing family members standing above her.

“I'm scheduled on a trip to visit some of our producers,” Dan said. “But if I can get those postponed, or I can get someone else to cover them, I can definitely help Miles and Renia.”

“I can do it,” Vivian repeated. She really should stand up and assert herself, but she was too exhausted.

“I'll set up an online calendar,” Miles offered. “Then we can coordinate schedules online and sync them with our phones...”

Vivian opened her mouth to repeat herself again and was interrupted by Renia. “You men are so busy trying to manage the situation that you've not heard Vivian offer to stay home with Mom.”

“Can you help at Healthy Food, Mom's restaurant, too?” Tilly asked. “Edward can manage the restaurant in Mom's absence, but they'll need someone to work the register.”

“I can work the register.” After two weeks of perfecting her cooking and walking down every street in the Loop, Vivian was grateful to have an opportunity to be useful and working again.

“She is
not
working at Healthy Food, nor is she staying home with Mom.” Karl's voice didn't leave any room for argument, but Renia argued anyway.

“She's not fit,” her husband said, finally.

As much as she wanted to let his words slide right off her back, they stung. She'd lived in his apartment for two weeks and not done anything but feed him and look for a job. What exactly did he think she would do to his mother?

“Is the pregnancy that risky?” Renia and Tilly's faces wore matching expressions of concern.

“It's not the pregnancy.” Karl's mouth barely opened wide enough for the words to come out. If one of his relatives tapped him, he'd shatter.

“Just because I was fired from Middle Kingdom for cheating doesn't mean I can't work a register and remind your mom to take her meds.” Four pairs of eyes blinked rapidly, but Vivian didn't care. Now that Karl knew her dirty little secret, she didn't see why the rest of the family couldn't know, too. Just throw the whole mess—one-night stand, drunken marriage, pregnancy, all of it—out into the light of day and see what happened.

She
knew she didn't deserve the distrust emanating from Karl, especially as she was volunteering to help the family out by taking care of a woman who didn't even like her. “You wanted me out of the apartment. This would give me a place to live and something to do.”

“But the register...” Karl protested.

“Whatever story your FBI agent cronies told you should at least convince you that I'm good at counting and have fast hands. I worked at that casino for sixteen years, and no one ever managed to pass a cheat by me. I can work a register.”

“Let's not decide this now,” Renia said. “We can all go home, sleep on it and come to a decision tomorrow. Maybe Mom wants a say in her future.”

Vivian looked at Karl. While it felt like forever ago, it was only earlier this evening that she'd been driving out of Chicago to leave Karl and his suspicions behind. Now she was offering to stay in the city to take care of a mother-in-law who didn't like her on behalf of a husband who didn't trust her.

At least there was security in caring for Mrs. Milek, only...where would she sleep tonight?

“Vivian, perhaps you would like to stay at our place tonight?” Tilly offered. “We have a spare room.”

Vivian flashed her blue-haired sister-in-law a grateful look. “I would really appreciate it.”

“No, Tilly, you know you have to get to
your
restaurant early tomorrow. Vivian can stay with Miles and me in Sarah's room for the night, and we'll get her set up in Mom's house tomorrow.”

The line of Karl's jaw tightened, as if he was thinking of arguing, but he didn't say a word in protest.

It was only when she got to Renia's house that Vivian thought to text Karl a short message with instructions for Xìnyùn's care.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

K
ARL
SLIPPED
THROUGH
the church doors and into the end of a back pew right before the priest proceeded down the aisle. Mass was the first time he'd come south of Cermak since his mother's heart attack.

He'd let his managing sisters get Vivian set up to work at Healthy Food and get their mother home from the hospital. He didn't want to see his mom shuffling around the house in a robe, maybe with an oxygen tank and definitely surrounded by pills. Nor did he want to be surrounded by the smell of jasmine and its ambrosial lie of a fake marriage and very real baby.

His feeble excuse was that he was swamped with work. After threats and some badgering, the law department had sent another disc—still heavily redacted. Plus, back at his condo there was that stupid bird to take care of. He didn't neglect his responsibilities, despite the bird being ahead in the H-O-R-S-E basketball challenge, fifty games to ten.

He recited the greetings in unison with the rest of the congregation, as he had most Sundays for as long as he could remember. People around him stood and kneeled and sat, and he used the familiar rhythm to let his mind wander into the thoughts he'd kept at bay all week. Despite his fears—which he knew were irrational—his mother was fine. She was going to survive the heart attack. She was going to learn to eat better food and maybe start walking to work instead of driving the couple of blocks. Another family member he loved hadn't died on him. He wouldn't be an orphan; he'd be a twice-divorced man with a child he hardly ever saw and a bird whose name he couldn't pronounce. Not exactly the future his father had imagined for him.

My boys!
his dad would say.
Karl's going to do important things one day. My wife says he's going to be president, but I think he'll stay closer to home and his family.

He was close to home and his family, and he was doing important things. What more could the ghost of his dad expect out of him? He had tried marriage, and it hadn't worked out. What he had with Vivian didn't count, as neither of them could define what they had with each other, and if they couldn't define it, they couldn't know what it was. She was pregnant with his child, and he was making sure he didn't neglect his responsibilities. Everything else was...fuzzy.

You're just going through the motions of marriage and family because it's expected of you,
Jessica had accused him at the beginning of the end of their marriage.
The only thing you care about is your work, as if it will bring your family back to life. We could have a family of our own, but I don't think you can flex your mind even the slightest to see how that might be possible.

Hearing the Nicene Creed said by the man next to him was a surprise and Karl wasn't able to catch up until the second line. He'd completely missed the readings and homily, moving in concert with the congregation but not hearing a word the priest said. When flashes of white moved about the altar, Karl closed his eyes, as he had every Sunday since his brother's funeral, to remember Leon in altar boy robes. Sundays, while the priest was preparing the Eucharist, was one of the few times he could remember his brother as alive, rather than dying in a hospital room. From the back of the church he could superimpose Leon's smiling face on whatever child was currently serving at the altar.

Karl never sat in the front pews.

Jessica's accusation had been unfair and proof she didn't understand him or what his dedication to his work represented about his feelings for his family. He'd left corporate law for the low pay and drudgery of the inspector general's office because the work was important, and despite what Jessica had believed and his mom had hoped, running for office was not a substitute for the work he did for the city. He wanted—needed—to do more to stop corruption than just pay lip service to ethics. He wanted to hunt down those who thought nothing of cheating the people.

Besides, he was the good son. He came to Sunday dinners at Mom's, often ate at Tilly's restaurant and had even worked a booth at the Taste of Poland for Renia.
The good son,
just as his father had expected, even if he wasn't around to see it.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. The present—Father Szymkiewicz holding the Eucharist up in offering and the warmth of the community around him—should be the focus of his attention, not anger at those who were in prison for their crimes. Anger had not brought his family back from the dead yet, and it never would. Justice and prevention were the key. And forgiveness. Surrounded by God's grace, he couldn't forget forgiveness.

“Peace be with you.” Karl jumped at the voice and turned to see the man next to him with his hand out. He returned the greeting and shook hands with other parishioners, crossing the aisle to shake hands with Mr. and Mrs. Biadała, who asked after his mother. Karl informed them that his mother was going to be fine, which wasn't a lie. His sisters or Vivian would've called him if she'd gotten worse.

After taking communion, Karl knelt and rested his head on his hands, letting the edge of the wood on the kneeler bite into his knees and focus his mind. He looked forward to this moment of contemplation every week. No matter how many people interrupted him in a normal day—calls from his family or couriers with redacted and thus useless information—no one ever interrupted him during this moment of silence. And he could ignore the phone vibrating in his pants pocket while he talked to his father. Sometimes he used the moment to talk to his dad, and sometimes to his Father with a capital
F,
but he always took this moment to seek guidance.

The guidance he sought wasn't always available. Or, as today, he didn't like what he heard.

Forgiveness. Be willing to offer it, and don't expect it when you have done wrong unless you are also willing to apologize.
He hadn't meant to expose Vivian's secret to his family. That Vivian's presence seemed to push him out of his comfortable stoicism was his responsibility, not hers. And he should apologize for any embarrassment he'd caused her—take responsibility for his actions.

Understand and have sympathy for your fellow man.
He wanted Vivian to understand why he was so upset over her actions in Las Vegas—even if she hadn't actually cheated. She needed to see why the person responsible for the Sisyphean task of keeping cheating out of the city of Chicago couldn't be living with a woman who'd been one second away from cheating herself.

If you can't bring yourself to understand why she might have done what she did, you can't expect her to understand you.
The truth of that statement was as uncomfortable in his mind as the kneeler was on his knees.

When Mass was over and he'd greeted the priest and several other parishioners he knew, Karl stepped out into the grey Chicago winter and checked the text message on his phone.

Working the lunch shift at Healthy Food. Your mom has been asking to see you. Be a good son.

What did Vivian know about being a good son? She was hiding from her father.

She's hiding from her father because he asked her to violate her morals and she's afraid she'll say yes if she sees him again. You should support that. And you
are
hiding from your mother.

Forgiveness and understanding should be easier with the realization that he shared something in common with Vivian. And that she was right about being the good son. He got into his car and turned out of the parking lot toward his mother's house.

Letting himself into his mother's house and finding her sitting in an easy chair with a blanket wrapped around her and a pot of tea on the side table, Karl disagreed with his conscience. He wasn't hiding from his mother—that would imply she could seek him out. He was avoiding seeing his mother's pale face and the pills on the coffee table.

“Don't look so scared. I just woke up from a nap.” The rosy-cheeked, robust woman who nagged him about running for mayor was gone, replaced by a stranger with sagging skin at her neck. When had his mom gotten old? “If you'd come to see me after one of my short walks with Vivian, you'd see I'm hale and hearty.”

He gave her a kiss on her dry cheek and sat on the couch. “You look fine, Mom. Better.”

“You're lying, but you're doing it more to comfort yourself than me, so I'll forgive you.” She smiled indulgently at him. “It took you three days to come see me.”

“I've been busy.” God, those words sounded hollow while worrying he would knock over her pill bottles. He counted three. Were there more? “Is Vivian taking good care of you?”

“She's a sweet girl.”

“We were here for dinner, and you didn't like her at all.”

“I didn't know you were having a baby.” His mom patted his knee. The last time someone had patted his knee had been the doctor at Vivian's prenatal appointment—and before that it had been years. At least his mom's wasn't a pity pat. “She's caring and patient. Good at managing me without seeming like she is. She'll be a good mom to my grandbaby.”

Vivian could have horns and spit fire, and his mom would still love her because she was providing the grandchild. His sister Renia's daughter, Ashley, had been given up for adoption. And even though Ashley had gotten back in contact with Renia, an eighteen-year-old girl two states away wasn't the same as a newborn his mom could coo over. His mom was excited to have Ashley back in contact with the family, but Karl thought it only reminded her how much she wanted to be surrounded by grandkids. Not to mention she was still looking for someone to take over Healthy Food one day. Tilly wouldn't do it; a grandchild might, eventually.

“Which sister spilled?”

“Vivian told me. She said everyone else knew, so I might as well. I don't know why you were keeping it a secret.”

Because Vivian wanted to, and I still wanted it to be a dream.
Not wanting to change the past wasn't the same thing as looking forward to the future. “It's bad luck to tell people before the third month.”

“Edward says she's doing really well at Healthy Food. The neighborhood is excited your wife is working there and she took to the register and hosting really naturally.”

She took to the register really naturally....

No, Karl stopped himself from thinking that. Vivian was doing the family a favor. He could be gracious and take her at her word that she hadn't actually cheated. She was carrying his child. They both shared the responsibility; he didn't have to be an ass, not even in his thoughts.

“Would you like me to get you some more hot water for your tea?”

“Are you staying?” He couldn't blame her for the doubt in her voice. He came for family dinners, but hadn't been in the habit of just dropping by to chat.

“Sure. I'll stay, at least until Vivian gets back from Healthy Food.” The work he had to review wasn't going anywhere. His mom had just had a heart attack. He could spend the afternoon with her. “I'll even fix us lunch.”

“Vivian put a list of good post–heart attack food on the fridge. None of it is kielbasa and pierogies, but what she's fixed so far hasn't been terrible.”