Mixed Blessings (3 page)

She broke eye contact and picked up her sandwich. “I'm so confused.” She put down the sandwich without taking a bite. “I'm torn between needing to stay and needing to go.”

“Staying is only right. There's no question. You can't tease me with one short hour of being with my—” he paused and shot a quick look at Luke, then back at Ricky.
His voice vibrated with restrained emotion “—With my flesh and blood, then snatch him away!”

Despair flooded her. “I care for my sister. She was injured in an accident.”

He frowned. Marie wasn't sure whether it was from vexation that she didn't accede to his wishes at once or concern for Sandy. “How is she managing without you today?”

“She's at the rehab facility. One of our church family is picking her up. He'll keep her company at home until I get there.”

“Surely he can watch her overnight.”

Marie winced. “The gentleman involved isn't exactly versed in giving her the particular type of care she'll require.”

“That's not a problem. We'll call and arrange for a private nurse to stay with her tonight. You can't leave.”

“Mr. Hallock,” she paused and watched as Peter playfully stuck an olive on Ricky's thumb. Both of their faces lit with glee. Cuddling Ricky closer, Peter grabbed another olive and did the same to Luke. All three of them laughed.
If it's so cute, why do I want to cry?

Peter looked at her and raised his brows. “What were you going to say?”

“I know I said it before,” she whispered, “but this is even harder than I thought it was going to be.”

His smile faded. “We have to work together, Marie…for their sakes.”

“I know.”

He shook his head. “It's so hard to believe. We've got a lot to do.” He accepted a carrot from Ricky. “First off, I—”

“I think,” she interrupted, “we'd be wise to not make
any immediate decisions. It's going to be complicated. Can't we please have today to just share our sons?”

“That would be easier if you'd change your plan to flit out of here.”

She tried to calm down with a sip of iced tea, but it didn't help. Her hand shook as she set the crystal goblet back down on the table. “Mr. Hallock—”

“Peter. It seems crazy to be formal when we're going to be sharing kids.”

Marie dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Peter, I learned about this a week ago. The first day, I was in shock. You're that way now. I'm falling apart, and you're acting like nothing is wrong. In a day or two, the reality will hit you full force.”

“So you're dropping a bomb, listening to it tick for a few minutes, then running before it detonates?”

She granted him a wobbly smile. His words were clever, but the reality hurt too much. Her eyes burned and her nose tingled with suppressed tears.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I'm sorry. That joke was in poor taste. I think you were incredibly brave to come here. I don't know what I would have done.”

“I admit, I'm frazzled. I prayed all of the way here, but my focus was on the boys.” She shrugged. “I'm not ready to think about all of the consequences or plot a future course.”

“Okay. We'll just concentrate on the guys today.”

Marie didn't eat much. Her nerves were strung too tight. Nothing seemed to fit past the big ball in her throat. By the end of lunch, Luke started rubbing his eyes. Marie looked at Peter. “Would you mind if I tucked him in for his nap?”

He rubbed his chin on Ricky's crown. “How 'bout if we let Ricky nap a while, too?”

“He naps well in his car seat. It might be easier if we slip out while they're sleepy. If you're free next weekend, why don't you and Luke come for a visit?”

“Nothing is more important than this, Marie. We have to make a pact that the boys come first. I'll clear my calendar and jump through whatever hoops I have to.”

Peter sat on the couch and held Ricky while Marie tucked in Luke by herself. Those few moments she spent alone with Jack's little son were bittersweet. Even after he'd fallen asleep, she held him close to her heart. Finally, she whispered a prayer over him, slipped him onto his bed and covered him with a satin-edged baby blanket. One kiss wasn't enough. The second and third were just as precious.

She knew she had to leave. It felt like a giant was reaching in and tearing her heart from her breast. Each step she took from his room and down the hall took monumental effort.

Peter rose from the couch as she reentered the playroom. Ricky lay in his arms like a boneless cat. He'd fallen asleep, just like Luke. “I'll carry him out for you.”

She blinked back tears and reached out. “My arms feel too empty. Please—” To her relief, Peter relinquished Ricky.

Peter's face was pale and taut. Marie suspected his composure was starting to crack. Part of her wanted to stay so he wouldn't have to bear the anguish alone, but she had no emotional reserves and couldn't do anything to lessen the impact of this disaster. Left alone, he'd at least keep his dignity.

She made it to the front door, but Peter pressed a hand to the oak panel, blocking her exit. “Marie—”

“Peter, you have to let us go.”

His troubled gaze held her captive. “For now—but things are far from resolved.”

Marie nodded. Ricky stirred and lifted his head. Marie shrank as Peter completely closed the few inches between them. Back pressed against the wall, she gulped and her eyes widened. Then his head dipped.

“Bye-bye, tiger. You're a wonderful boy. I was so happy to meet you. I'll see you again, soon.” He spoke the words very softly, very tenderly, before he kissed Ricky's cheek and rumpled his hair. Genuine affection glowed in his eyes.

His sweetness to her son meant the world—until he whispered to her, “You take good care of him until I can.”

T
he phone rang as Marie crossed the threshold. Too tired to care, Marie let go of Ricky's hand and smiled wearily at her sister. “I don't know how people commute long distances to work.”

Sandy gave her a sympathetic look, then glanced at the still-jangling phone and made a wry face. “You'd better answer that. Some guy named Peter has been calling every fifteen minutes for the last two hours. He's frantic.”

“Great.” Marie rubbed her aching back as she headed for the phone. “Hello?”

“Marie! It's eight forty-seven! You've been driving long past dark. What took you so long? Was there a problem?”

Her purse strap slid down from her shoulder, and Marie let her bag drop onto the battered, white kitchen counter with a muffled thump. Shoving her hair back from her forehead, she sighed, “We're fine.”

“What took you so long?”

Peter's voice sounded ragged with concern, but Marie didn't want to think about him or his feelings at the mo
ment. His parting words kept echoing in her head.
You take good care of him until I can.
All the way home, she'd worried that Peter meant to try to take Ricky away. She'd been so absorbed, she'd failed to look at the gauges and run out of gas.

“I said, we're fine.”

“Thank heavens! Marie, your car is leaking oil. I saw a pool of fresh oil right where you were parked. I worried you broke down or something.”

“We made it home in one piece.”

“Good!” His sigh of relief flowed over the line.

Marie cleared her throat. “When I stopped to get gas, my license and cards were in the wrong places in my wallet.”

The line went silent.

“Mr. Hallock? I believe an answer is in order.” She could hear his steps as he paced back and forth on a hard surface someplace. The silence told her he was considering several possible explanations. That fact irked her. She wanted the truth.

“While you were in my house,” he said in a well-modulated tone, “the security officer did a search of the car and your purse. He copied your identification and put it back.”

I wanted him to be honest—but I also hoped he'd be honorable.
Fatigue gave way to anger. “I'm so mad, I could spit nails! How dare you do such a thing!”

He made an impatient sound. “I didn't have a choice! You have my son!”

“How am I supposed to respond to that?” She glanced behind herself to be sure Ricky wasn't in the room. Taking care to lower her voice, she hissed, “Am I expected to scream that Ricky is mine, or do you want me to lay claim to Luke?”

Another silence ensued. Peter finally admitted, “That didn't come out right. You were wise to leave. I'm starting to go nuts already, and I really don't want anyone seeing me when I feel this out of control. I'm glad you got home safely. Good night, Marie.”

“Good night, Peter.” Marie hung up the phone.

“Oh, sis! It sounds bad.” Sandy's eyes held consolation as she maneuvered her wheelchair closer. When her chair came to a halt, she pushed her headband back to restrain a fall of sun-bleached blond hair.

“I've opened Pandora's box.”

“I told you to get a lawyer or a private investigator. You could have at least let one of the guys on the force run a sheet on Peter Hallock.”

Marie compressed her lips and tried to ignore the storm of emotions raging inside her. She hadn't wanted to get anyone else involved. She didn't have money to hire professional help, and it felt creepy to ask one of Jack's old buddies to pull strings. Any number of them would have done so in a heartbeat. Now she wished she would have.

“What's he—your real, biological son—like?”

Marie flopped down on her brown tweed couch. She gave Ricky a vague smile as he came out of the bathroom. “Go get your jammies, Rick. It's bedtime.”

“So?” Sandy prompted as Ricky disappeared into his room.

“He's beautiful, Sandy. Beautiful. His eyes are blue, but they're shaped just like Jack's. His mouth is, too. He looks like a cherub. He's a few inches shorter than Ricky, but maybe a bit stockier.”

“What did they name him?”

“Luke.” She closed her eyes. “My day was a disaster. How was yours?”

“Rehab went well. They're pushing me to join an independent living group. Do you think I'm ready?”

“I think you will be soon.” Marie accepted the race-car-printed flannel pajamas she'd made and helped Ricky into them. Ordinarily, he'd try to change all on his own, but after a long, trying day, he'd come out to seek her help and reassurance. She gave him an extra hug after she buttoned his shirt.

While Ricky stayed in the living room with them, she and Sandy took care to discuss Sandy's future instead of the catastrophic events of the past week. Marie wanted to shield her son from as much of the ordeal as she could until the adults all managed to iron out the issues. She'd never imagined her sweet little tyke would be in the line of fire as he'd been today. The memory left her shaken—and more than willing to distract herself with the exciting prospects opening up for Sandy.

“My physical therapist said I've stabilized,” Sandy said as she whizzed in and out of the kitchen. She brought a pair of Red Delicious apples.

“You've worked hard,” Marie praised. “I'm really impressed by how much you can do.”

They discussed the merits of such a plan as they shared the apples with Ricky for a bedtime snack. Marie tucked him into his bed. He mumbled a nighttime prayer and fell asleep at once.

The minute Marie came back into the living room, Sandy demanded, “Okay. Now that he's in bed, give me the scoop.”

“I'm in big trouble.” Marie sank onto the couch, stared straight ahead at the brick fireplace and sighed. “Peter Hallock is rattled. From what I gather, he's an administrator at a hospital—powerful. Rich, too.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “To top it off, he's
possessive. When I left, he told me to take good care of Ricky until he can.”

Sandy's jaw dropped. “You have to be kidding me!”

“Nope.” Marie wearily propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“He's nuts! What did you do?”

“I got out of there as fast as I could.”

“So he's going to be ugly?”

“I can't say. It wouldn't be fair to judge that yet. Sandy, I'm just sick about it all. I know he is, too.”

“What's his wife like?”

“He's widowed.” Other than that fact, he hadn't alluded even once to his wife. Marie tried to rub away her headache and wanted to pretend nothing had happened. “Let's get you ready for bed. You know, I didn't see Brent when I came in. I wanted to thank him for helping you.”

“
I
thanked him.”

Marie stopped and gave her sister a searching look. “Oh? That sounds interesting.”

Sandy grinned. “We thought so.”

“What are you telling me?”

“He asked me out to lunch after church. We're going on a picnic. He said he's tired of pretending to be my buddy. His kiss backed up that claim, too.”

“Wonderful!” Marie gave her a hug. “What will you wear?”

They chattered about that issue as Marie helped Sandy transfer from her wheelchair to bed. She'd learned all of the necessary skills to take care of Sandy since she'd hurt her back in a freak surfing accident. With the passage of time and rehabilitation, Sandy had regained most of the use of her arms. She needed to build up more muscle strength so she could move herself independently, but she
was nearly to the point of being able to care for herself with a minimum of help.

Marie changed and crawled into the other bed in the same room. As she curled up under the blankets, she tried to block the image of a large, mahogany-haired man reaching for Ricky.

You take care of him until I can. Until I can…
His words kept echoing in her mind. Marie shuddered and dragged the covers up higher.

She sensed Peter Hallock dearly loved children. The protective urge he'd shown at the outset with Luke now extended toward Ricky, too. What had he meant,
the Hallocks are never losing another child?
Had there been a kidnapping? A murder? Was Luke safe? Tired and worried as she felt, Marie didn't sleep well.

 

Peter's nerves stretched taut. Darlene took their baby when she left him; yesterday, as Marie left with Ricky, the landslide of feelings and memories nearly buried Peter. Peter tried to book a flight to Orange County last night, but the galling fact that John Wayne airport closed at ten each night foiled his plan. This morning's whole flight down seemed to go in slow motion, and Peter got unaccountably impatient with the rental agency when his car wasn't ready as promised.

He swerved and focused his attention on the road again. Marie had better be an easygoing hostess, because he was dropping in without warning. If he called again, he'd only put his foot in his mouth. He even missed the freeway turnoff to her place and needed to backtrack.

Marie lived in an older tract neighborhood where it looked like an unimaginative architect had taken a pair of cookie cutters to design only two floor plans. Places of
this vintage invariably needed upkeep, but most carried the air of being well-tended.

Peter pulled up to the curb and gave the pink, purple and white flowers edging her yard an assessing look. The mailbox out in front of her house bore a shiny gold icthus. Instead of steps, a wooden ramp led to the front door. Painted along the widest side beam was a verse he recognized. “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Clearly, yesterday's lunchtime prayer wasn't a mere ritual. Marie lived her faith.
Good thing she does. Only God will be able to solve this for us.

He swept Luke out of the car seat, strode up the ramp and rang the doorbell.

Tired of being confined by the flight and his car seat, Luke wiggled. “Want down.”

“Okay.” Peter set him on the porch, and he immediately scampered off and grabbed for a marble-blue plastic ball that rested against the garage.

A young woman in a wheelchair opened the door. Her beaming smile and “Hi!” took Peter off guard. So did the sight of Marie, barefoot, in a pair of walking shorts and a cherry-red T-shirt. Oblivious to his arrival, she and Ricky screeched and giggled as she chased him into the corner with the hose attachment of a noisy vacuum cleaner. Peter's uneasiness evaporated.

“Can I help you?”

He refocused on the woman in the wheelchair. She had to be Marie's sister. Her wheelchair was one of the slick customized jobs, cueing him in to the fact that the injury to which Marie had alluded was significant and permanent. He cleared his throat. “I'm Peter Hallock. You must be Sandy.”

She'd already cocked her head and gazed at him suspiciously. The moment he confirmed his identity, her face
grew wary. “I don't think you should have come here, Mr. Hallock. Ricky is ours.”

He gave no reply. Marie switched off the vacuum. Though Ricky continued to shriek with glee, Peter noted Marie's laughter died the moment she spied him. Her eyes narrowed and she studied him for a second before she quickly pivoted, as if to block his access to the little boy. Clearly, this mother was protecting her young. Peter wanted to protest—but in that moment, he realized he'd managed to scare her. He'd instilled in her the selfsame sickening fear he lived with—that someone was going to harm or take away a very precious child. The thought appalled him.

Marie patted her son on the backside. “Go to your room. Put away Noah and the animals. Mommy will come check on you in a minute.” She waited until Ricky obeyed and was safely out of sight before she walked to the door. “I'll take care of this, Sandy.”

Her sister didn't budge. She kept her chair in place as a barrier and looked like a bulldog. “You don't have to talk to him.”

“I know I don't.” Marie glanced over her shoulder, as if to reassure herself Ricky was safely out of reach, then turned back toward him. “Mr. Hallock, I'll be hiring an attorney on Monday. You'll be contacted thereafter. Do you have a lawyer yet?”

“I was hoping we could share an attorney.”

She gave him an incredulous look.

Sandy scoffed, “There's a great idea. I can already see who would end up the victor.”

Marie put her hand on her sister's shoulder. Was it a move to silence her, or to protect and side with her? “If you wait at the foot of the ramp, Mr. Hallock, I'll get you a few pictures of Ricky.”

Peter noticed she still didn't look him in the eye, and that bothered him. Sandy's bitter words took him off guard, too. Still, he had no right to complain. He refocused his attention. “Luke, come back here!”

“Luke!” Marie's face transformed at once. She scrambled past her sister and plowed down the ramp. She swung Luke in a big circle, then cuddled him close. Head tilted so she could rub her cheek in Luke's soft hair and relish every last inch of contact, she turned her gaze to Peter. “You brought him!”

Peter felt a jumble of emotions. A stab of jealousy pierced him. Then, too, anger hit. How dare she think he'd leave Luke behind? Ah, but the wariness on her face had been replaced by sheer joy.

Something tugged on his shirt. Sandy laughed. “Hey, would you mind moving? That's my nephew down there.”

Peter stepped aside. As Sandy rolled over the threshold, Marie brought Luke up the ramp. “Lookie, Luke! It's Auntie Sandy!”

Luke grabbed fistfuls of Marie's shirt and buried his face in her shoulder. Peter watched how Marie held him a bit more possessively. “It's okay, punkin.” She smiled at Sandy. “He's shy.”

“Compared to Ricky,” Sandy said, “anyone is shy.”

Peter felt relieved that they accepted Luke just as he was.

“Can I come out?” Ricky's shout from the bedroom made them all laugh again.