Lover's Lane (26 page)

“Go ahead. I’ll be right here.”

Waiting to take you home.

35

“COME ON, GRANDMA! SEE HOW FAST I CAN RUN.”

Anna watched this boy, this miracle of Rick’s, feeling as if time had reversed itself. In Christopher she saw her own son at six, his sturdy legs, the tilt of his head when he concentrated, the flash of a dimple in his cheek when he smiled. Meeting this child was more wonderful than she could have imagined, and yet, at the same time, more than bittersweet, knowing Rick would never, ever see his wonderful son.

As she carefully picked her way across the uneven, grassy lawn toward a wooden bench, she was reminded that she was not here for her own sake, but for Rick. She prayed that on some level her son’s spirit was beside her, watching Christopher through her eyes.

“Sit here, Grandma.” Chris slid over on the bench, warm and welcoming. She hadn’t expected this. She’d convinced herself that Carly would have turned the boy against her, but a wide grin split his face as he patted the seat next to him.

She sat down, leaving a space between them, less than a foot that he quickly scooted to fill.

“Can I see the pictures now?”

“Of course.” She opened her purse, found her matching wallet. She hadn’t been without the photographs for years. Sometimes the plastic sleeves would flip open, and when she was totally unprepared, there was Rick smiling up at her, his image unraveling another piece of her heart.

Christopher leaned closer to peer over Anna Saunders’ arm. He didn’t know which was more exciting, meeting his real live grandma or finally seeing a picture of his dad.

She sure wasn’t like anything he imagined, but if she was anything like Matt’s Grandma Potter, then things were going to be
great
from now on.

He noticed her hands shook as she pulled a wallet out of her purse.

“Are you cold, Grandma?”

“No. Why?”

“Your hands are shakin’.”

He could tell that bothered her and wished he hadn’t said anything because she suddenly laid her hands and the wallet in her lap and took a deep breath.

Then she said, “I’m not cold. I’m a little nervous, meeting you for the first time.”

He reached over and patted her hands gently.

“It’s okay, Grandma. I’m right here.”

She made a funny sound in her throat while she fumbled with the wallet, opened it, and flipped to some color pictures, then handed it to him.

He centered the wallet on his lap, brought it closer to see through the plastic sleeve.

“That’s your father when he was about your age,” she said.

“He’s wearing a baseball uniform.”

“He loved baseball.”

“Me, too! I play T-ball but I’m gonna play baseball when I get bigger. My best friend, Matt, is on the team.” He flipped to the next photo. There was his dad, older, all dressed up, with a girl tucked in his arms.

“Who’s that
girl
in the shiny blue dress?” he asked.

“I can’t recall. Someone he took to the Winter Formal in high school. There were so many girls in his life I lost track of their names.”

He couldn’t imagine why his dad had wanted to hang around with girls. Slowly, he looked through all the photos. Another was just like the Winter Formal picture, but his dad had his arms around a different girl. Another showed him in a funny, flat hat. His grandma told him it was worn for graduation.

“Where’s Mom? Don’t you have any pictures of him with Mom?”

He suddenly found himself wondering how old Anna Saunders was.

“No, I don’t have any photos of him with your mother,” she said very quietly.

Chris was starting to worry too much to think about that right now.

“Grandma? Are you real old?”

“Not that old. Why?”

“ ’Cause I don’t want you to die.”

She pulled back. “I have no intention of dying anytime soon. Why on
earth
would you say a thing like that?”

“Well, I’ve been waiting a really long time to get a grandma and I don’t want you to die now that I have you.”

Jake had kept his distance when Anna first walked up to Carly and Christopher. After a few minutes, Chris ran across the park and Anna followed slowly behind.

Carly was left standing alone, valiant, but terrified.

As much as he’d tried to convince himself to butt out of her life, he still couldn’t bear to let her go through what had to be one of the hardest moments of her life alone.

She didn’t notice him drawing near until he was almost beside her.

“Carly?”

“Oh, Jake. I had no idea this would be so hard.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. She looked so abandoned, so uncertain, that without thinking, he slipped his arm around her shoulders, expecting her to shrug him off, but her attention was completely focused on Anna and Christopher, and she ended up leaning against him.

“He’s so
happy,
” she whispered.

Christopher was looking at photos in Anna’s wallet.

“I don’t have one single picture of Rick.” Carly drew in a long breath, shuddered. “When Chris was a toddler, I thought of framing a photo from a magazine and telling him it was his daddy, but then I realized that when he grew up, I’d have to tell him the truth. He is forever asking me what his dad looked like, if he was strong, what kind of a car he drove.”

As if she only just realized she was leaning against him, she straightened, but didn’t move away. “I used to tell him to go look in the mirror and he’d see just what Rick looked like.” Then she let go a melancholy sound that might have been a laugh. “Chris said, ‘Mom, did my dad really look like a little kid?’ ”

Jake reached into his back pocket, pulled out his own wallet, and handed her the photo he’d carried for so long. He watched her study the picture of her and Christopher taken in Borrego. The color faded from her cheeks when she realized the picture wasn’t trimmed, but folded. She lifted the edge and looked down at the complete picture. It was of Chris, Rick, and her. One of the shots Wilt had taken for them.

“I’ve carried that around ever since Rick died and I started searching for you.”

She ran her fingers around the frayed edges. “I was so young.” She shook her head. “So long ago. A lifetime.”

“Chris should be able to see a picture of his dad whenever he wants to. I’ll have it copied so that you’ll have a photo of the three of you, but I’d like to keep this one.”

“Why, now that the search is over?”

“Because I’m afraid I’ve lost you again.”

Anna discovered her grandson’s endearing charm. He was bright. Intuitive. All boy.

Being with him made her want to stop time in its tracks, but she was anxious to get back to Long Beach and consult with Art Litton, her lawyer.

She walked hand in hand with Christopher, back to the edge of the bluff where his mother waited beside Jake Montgomery. Seeing the couple together, the man’s arm draped over Carly’s shoulder, infuriated her. She didn’t need to be reminded that the P.I. had known of Christopher’s whereabouts and had kept her in the dark for weeks. The fact that he’d been Rick’s friend made it even worse.

Carly was obviously very upset and failing dismally at hiding her feelings. Anna tried to convince herself that she didn’t care. Carly Nolan’s hurt would never make up for all the years she’d suffered the loss of both Rick and his son.

Jake must have sensed that she wanted to speak to Carly alone for he immediately distracted Christopher and the two of them wandered over to where a vendor was selling popcorn from an old-fashioned wagon.

She watched through a mist of tears. “He’s a wonderful boy. So much like his father.” She spoke aloud, without thinking.

“Thank you.”

Anna had meant it as an observation, not a compliment, but she let Carly’s response go and focused on the tense, vulnerable young woman beside her as an awkward silence lengthened.

Distracted, Anna listened as Jake laughed at something Christopher had said.

“Will you withdraw the petition?”

It was a moment before Anna realized Carly had actually said something to her. She shifted her purse to her other hand.

“Excuse me?”

“I asked if you’ll withdraw the petition for guardianship now that you’ve met Christopher and you’ve seen for yourself how well he’s doing.”

Anna’s gaze darted back to Christopher. He was tugging on Jake’s hand, leading the big man over to a drinking fountain, chattering all the way.

His room was ready and waiting for him in Long Beach. The court date was all set. How could she back out now when they were so close?

It was a second before she realized that there was no
they
anymore. Charles was gone. He’d pushed Arthur to go see the girl in the desert, to offer her money for the baby. He was the one who had thought having custody of Rick’s son was for the best.

Charles had taken care of everything, given her everything. She owed him so very, very much.

The hospital room was cool and quiet. Always so cold that
Anna never went inside without a heavy sweater. She’d been
there for weeks, sitting beside Charles’ bed, making certain
he was comfortable, pestering the nurses to come in more
often, seeing that the doctor stopped by every morning and
evening, even though there was no hope.

There were monitors and wires, tubes and rolling equipment crowded around the bed in the private room. It wasn’t
a bad room. The walls were even papered, not like the old
days when everything was white and industrial. But the
floors were still cold and hard and the air pungent with an
antiseptic smell that never quite masked the sour scent of
urine and feces. Death lurked in the corners, patrolled the
hallway.

She hated every minute of her time there, hated that
Charles had to be confined, wired, tubed, barely able to
speak. He’d been in and out of a coma for days now. The
nurses had assured her that it wouldn’t be long.

As much as she hated to say good-bye, even one more second was too long to see him suffer.

The morphine drip was nearly empty. The heart monitor
slow but steady. Anna was half asleep when she heard him
whisper her name. She opened her eyes to find Charles
watching her from the hollows of what had once been the
most handsome face in the world.

“Not . . . not long now,” he rasped. “You have to promise . . . me . . .”

She left the chair, took his bony hand and held it as tight
as she dared, leaned close so that she could hear every word.

“What, darling? What do you want?”

“Promise.”

“Anything.”

“Promise you . . . won’t give up. That . . . you . . . find
the boy. Christopher. Bring him . . . ’ome. Please, Anna.”

She had no idea where he found the strength. He’d been
out of his head before, but tonight his eyes were clear, as if
even the drug could not keep him from begging her to make
the promise.

“For . . . Rick.” He slowly smiled, and she wondered if
what she’d heard of death was true. Was Rick there now?
Was their son beside Charles, ready to accompany him to
the other side?

She glanced around the room as a chill passed through her,
clinging to Charles’ hand, knowing there was no time left.

“I promise, darling. I promise I’ll do everything I can to
save Christopher. To bring him home.”

Satisfied, Charles quieted again, smiled into her eyes before he closed his own and let go a heavy, rattling sigh.

The monitor shrilled when his heart stopped beating.
Two businesslike nurses came bustling in. One checked the
monitors, felt for Charles’ pulse.

He was gone, but the promise had been made.

If only he’d give Anna some sign, tell her what to do now. He’d always taken care of everything. Given her everything.

Nothing was the way they’d imagined. Christopher was six years old now. The girl, Carly, was a strong young woman, obviously not wealthy, but keeping her head above water and raising Christopher right, as far as Anna could tell.

She was tempted to call Art Litton when she got home, but she knew he’d only parrot Charles’ wishes and remind her of how foolish she’d been to come to Twilight on her own.

But it wasn’t Art who would have an active six-year-old on his hands when this was all over. He wouldn’t spend a second worrying about the possible consequences of what they were doing to Christopher.

Anna realized Carly Nolan was still waiting for an answer.

Just then Christopher called out, “Hey, Mom! Grandma! Look at me!”

She looked over in time to see him turn a crooked somersault and come up laughing. Jake bent down to brush grass cuttings off Chris’ shirt.

Anna clutched her purse tighter and shook her head. Her heart was pounding like an out-of-control jackhammer.

Bring him . . . home. Please, Anna.

There was so much to consider. Carly was so different than she had imagined. Christopher so loving, so beautiful.

She put her hand over her heart, afraid it would seize up and stop beating altogether. The wind was battering her hair into a lopsided haystack, the sun no doubt damaging her skin.

She had to get home, to think this through.

She needed time. She took a deep breath, refused to cower or look away from Carly.

“Will I withdraw the petition? Actually, now that I’ve seen Christopher, I . . . I want to be with him more than ever.”

36

CARLY WAS RUNNING ON ADRENALINE FUELED BY FEAR WHEN she stopped by the Potters’ to pick up Matt, then drove both boys home.

They weren’t back five minutes before Etta knocked at the door. Not even the sight of Etta’s apple-dumpling shape covered in lemon-yellow spandex and a gypsy-black Cleopatra wig lightened Carly’s mood.

Etta cradled a casserole dish against her sagging breasts.

“I made extra spaghetti and meatballs because I noticed you weren’t home all day, not that I was spying, mind you, but I thought you might be hungry.”

Carly didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Thanks, Etta.” She reached for the covered Pyrex dish. “It smells great. Chris and Matt will love it.”

It didn’t look like Etta was going anywhere fast as she lingered on the porch with Napoleon sniffing around her feet. Beauty whined and nosed against the screen.

“Is everything all right?” Etta was perfectly aware that things weren’t all right. She’d gotten to know Carly’s moods when they lived together.

“About the same.” There was no going into detail with Chris in the house. Worry lines replaced Etta’s smile.

Just then the phone rang, saving further explanation. “I’d better get that,” Carly said.

“You go right ahead, honey.”

“I’ll walk over tomorrow after work, and we’ll catch up, Etta. All right?”

Etta smoothed her hand over the ebony nylon wig. “I’ll make some muffins and put the coffee on.”

Carly carried the casserole dish into the kitchen and caught the phone on the fourth ring.

It was Jake.

“Anna’s gone.”

Carly cradled the phone, turned her back on the living room, and lowered her voice.

“Next time I see her, it will be in court.”

“Carly, don’t.”

“Don’t what? Don’t be defensive? Don’t get mad? I’m through cowering, Jake. I’ve got to look out for myself and my son now.”

“She may change her mind.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I have to.”

“I wish you wouldn’t call here anymore, Jake.”

“You don’t mean that.”

She wished she didn’t, but as long as he was around, touching her, offering her a shoulder to lean on, she’d only be reminded of how he’d made a fool of her, how he’d broken her heart.

“Let me take you and Chris and Matt out for dinner.”

“No, Jake.”

“I can bring you a pizza.”

“Please, no.”

“Carly—”

“Bye, Jake.”

She hung up, stared down at the portable phone in her hand. It rang again. She let it ring five times, pushed the talk button, heard Jake say her name and hung up again. He called three more times before giving up.

It’s over.

She knew better than to kid herself. What she felt for him wasn’t going to go away overnight, despite everything he’d done.

She closed her eyes, remembered the taste of his lips, the strength and gentleness of his touch. Making love with him had been so much more than she ever dreamed. . . .

Stop it.

One night. One night was all they’d shared. She tried to convince herself that what they had was no different than a one-night stand, but failed miserably. She’d put her heart on the block. There had only been two men in her life, Rick and Jake.

Best friends.

She walked into her studio. Too jumpy to concentrate, she called Geoff. He drove into San Luis nearly every Monday morning to shop, so she asked him to pick up an inexpensive answering machine if he went in tomorrow.

“Congratulations!” He laughed.

“What for? What’s so funny?” If he’d known what the last few hours had been like for her, he wouldn’t be laughing.

“For joining the twenty-first century. Hang on one sec, I’m ringing up a sale.”

She listened to Geoff as he spoke softly and politely to a customer.

“Guess what?” he said a minute later.

“What?”

“Someone put down a deposit on
Weathering the Storm
.”

He’d priced it higher than any other of her paintings. The news would have made her ecstatic a month ago.

“That’s nice.”

“I hate to say it, but you sound like hell. What’s going on now?”

“To make a long story short, Jake talked Anna Saunders into coming to town, and then he persuaded me to meet her. I let her meet Chris.”

“I take it she didn’t change her mind.”

“No. Now she’s more determined than ever to have Chris.” She had to press her lips together to keep them from trembling.

“What was Jake
thinking
?”

“He was trying to force a happy ending.” Her heart was so heavy that simply breathing was an effort. “He doesn’t know that they don’t exist.”

“Of course they do. When you stop believing in happy endings, you’ll be in
real
trouble.”

“I
am
in real trouble.” She began to pace from the kitchen to the living room and back. “I don’t want to talk to Jake, which is why I need the answering machine.”

“I’ve never heard you sound this angry before.”

“No? I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so mad I could spit nickels.”

He laughed. “I haven’t heard
that
in years.”

“Will you pick one up for me?”

“Of course. And it’s on me. Call it a contribution to the legal aid fund.”

“Absolutely not. I’m not exactly a charity case yet.”

“You know this isn’t going to stop him, don’t you?”

“Who? Jake?” She massaged her temple.

“Yes. Jake. I have a feeling he’s not going to let a little thing like an answering machine keep him from talking to you. Listen, Carly, I’m here for you, you know that. You need to keep your spirits up, and don’t let this ruin everything that’s good in your life.”

She looked out the huge front windows. Long afternoon shadows stretched across the quiet street out front. Spring was finally here and the weather was warming up. It was odd, she thought, how life went on even though she was caught up in a vortex of pain.

“Don’t make me cry, Geoff.”

“I can’t help but worry about you.”

“I’m through falling apart. I refuse to lose Chris.”

“What about Jake?”

“What about him?”

“From everything you’ve told me, I still can’t help but think he’s on your side, whether you want to believe it or not.”

She tensed. “Has he spoken to you?”

“No. But it sounds like he tried to help you work things out with Mrs. Saunders. It’s not his fault that it backfired. He must feel like shit.”

She’d been so upset she hadn’t given much thought to what Jake might or might not be feeling. She tried to tell herself she didn’t care.

Those last few moments at the park had been a nightmare. Anna had calmly called Chris over and told him that she was going back to Long Beach.

He asked her to stay, to go home with them, but Anna had hugged him tight and though choked with tears, had told him not to worry, that she promised she would see him soon.

Carly had taken Christopher’s hand and walked away from Jake and Anna with barely a good-bye.

He must feel like shit.

She pictured Geoff sitting on a bar stool behind the counter at the gallery.

“I can’t help the way Jake feels. He brought this on himself the day he chose to pretend he was just another tourist.” She held the phone so tight her hand started to cramp.

“Remind me never to get on your bad side, would you? I’ll bring the answering machine over as soon as I get back. Let me know when you hear anything new from Tom Edwards. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“And Carly?”

“What?”

“Try visualizing that happy ending.”

She hung up.

Geoff was big on visualization. He liked to light candles, play New Age music—Native American flutes and singing whales—but the only thing Carly could visualize right now was the determined look on Anna Saunders’ face when Chris hugged her good-bye.

She set the phone down and stared around the living room. No one was going to take her son from her. Nor was she about to stand around feeling helpless. Not anymore.

There was nothing here she couldn’t leave behind except a photo of Chris in his T-ball outfit. She picked it up, looked in on the boys, who were playing with Matt’s Game Boy, and carried the photo down the hall to her room.

She laid the picture on the bed, flipped on the closet light and then pulled out her long black duffel bag lying on the floor behind her shoes.

With Matt staying over, they couldn’t leave until tomorrow, but the delay would give her more time to plan. Betty Ford would get them out of state, then she’d sell the wagon and buy bus tickets to somewhere far away. Maybe Canada. Definitely not Mexico. She could pack the car in the middle of the night, when the boys were asleep and Etta wasn’t on patrol.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at the sagging duffel, thinking about what Geoff just said.

Don’t let this ruin everything that’s good in your life.

The life she’d made out of nothing. The home she’d established for Chris. She’d done her best. She was a good . . .

“Mom?”

Both boys and Beauty were framed in the doorway. Chris stared at her duffel. “Are we going someplace?”

The corner of her mouth quivered when she tried to smile.

“I thought it would be fun for us to go on vacation.”

“Can Matt go?”

“No, he can’t, honey. It’s just going to be the two of us. Just you and me.”

The way it had always been. The way she should have left it when Jake Montgomery came along. She’d been an idiot to think she could let someone into her life without paying a terrible price.

“We won’t be leaving until we drop Matt off at home tomorrow,” she explained.

“How long are we gonna be gone?” Chris crossed his arms over his chest and frowned as he looked from her to the duffel and back.

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe two weeks.” She tried to keep her voice light, her smile pasted on, but the words left a bad taste in her mouth.

“Wednesday’s hot dog day in the cafeteria.”

“We’ll buy hot dogs on the road.” Mentally she tallied the emergency money she had hidden in a zip lock bag in the toilet tank. It would have to last until she found another town, another job.

“But, Mom I’ll miss T-ball . . .”

“Yeah, T-ball,” Matt echoed, looking glum.

Christopher’s eyes were huge with disbelief. He’d never seen her like this, and she could tell she was frightening him. Gently she put her hands on his shoulders.

“Maybe we should drive to the Grand Canyon before school is out. There won’t be very many tourists there yet. Don’t you think that would be fun?”

Chris shrugged, unconvinced. “Maybe. What about Beauty?”

Beauty. They don’t sell bus tickets to dogs.

“Oh, we’ll take her along, of course.” She was amazed at how steady her voice sounded. Beauty was a complication, but having her along might help Christopher adjust. She’d find a way to work things out. She always did.

“Shouldn’t we tell Jake good-bye? And Grandma?”

“We’ll leave them both a nice note. Now, why don’t you two go back and play with Matt’s Game Boy and I’ll warm up dinner, okay?”

“Okay.” Chris dragged his feet. Matt and Beauty took off ahead of him down the hall.

She closed her eyes.

This won’t work.

Not again.

She sat down on the bed, suddenly deflated, empty as a popped party balloon.

She wasn’t fifteen anymore. She wasn’t nineteen with an infant who only needed a full diaper bag and regular feedings. She had a home and a job and a life here in Twilight, and most of all, she had Christopher, who had a life of his own.

She took a deep breath and stood up. No matter what the outcome might be, she would stay and fight for what was hers, what was right. The running was over.

Before she could put the duffel back in the closet, someone knocked on the front door. She wondered if she’d ever have a moment’s peace as she headed down the hall.

Halfway to the living room she heard Chris say, “Hey, Jake. Come on in. Guess what? We’re going on a vacation, but I’d rather stay home for hot dog day.”

Carly stepped into the room. “Chris, you and Matt go back to your room and take Beauty with you.”

She waited until they were gone before she turned on Jake.

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t want to talk to you.”

“A vacation?” He leaned back against the door, crossed his arms, and shook his head.

She watched his gaze dart around the living room.

“What’s wrong with making vacation plans? The petition hearing isn’t going to drag out forever, you know. When it’s over, Chris and I will need some time away.” Her insides were fluttering as she walked into the kitchen and filled the tea kettle with water. Anything to keep moving, to distract him, to keep Jake from reading her mind.

“How do you plan on disappearing this time? You haven’t got any aliases left, or have you?”

She slammed the kettle on the burner harder than she intended. “What I’ve got is none of your concern. Besides, if I want to move, that’s my business, not yours.”

“What about Chris? Will he thank you for it when he grows up?”

She lowered her voice. “You saw Anna today. Now that she’s met Christopher, do you really think she’ll change her mind? I can’t wait around and just roll over and play dead.”

She lifted a plastic canister of assorted flavored teas out of the cupboard, pulled one out without even looking at the packet.

“What if I won’t let you go?” He followed her into the kitchen, backed her up against the stove, though the only thing he really threatened was her composure.

“I’d like to see you stop me.”

“If you’re so bound and determined, I
can’t
stop you, but I can sure as hell give you something else to think about.”

Before she knew it she was in his arms, and he was kissing her. Putting up a weak resistance, she moaned against his lips but she was defenseless against the magic of his kiss, his tongue, his mouth.

Carly closed her eyes, felt his large, warm hands against her back as he pressed her closer. Lost, she kissed him back until reason kicked in, and she remembered everything.