Return to Sender (25 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

Tags: #General, #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Self-actualization (Psychology) in women, #Mothers and sons, #Contemporary Women, #Single mothers, #Family Life

BOOK: Return to Sender
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Lin’s insides trembled with her recollection of a past she’d tried to hide, a past she wanted to deny, but in the end it’d caught up with her. Was it possible the truth had the power to set her free?

Will ducked his head, wiggled in his chair. When he finally looked at her, she saw his anger, and she saw his sadness.

“And my father was like your father?”

Lin shook her head. “That’s just it. I never knew. Beyond those few days, I never saw your father again. Two months before you were born, I managed to get an address for him and began to send him letters. I sent dozens of letters over the next year or so. They would always come back unopened, marked ‘return to sender.’”

“Why tell me this now? Why did you have to…do this? I’m okay with not having a father. Heck, you know that. You did a fine job, Mom. Really. There were times when I wished for a dad, but it didn’t ruin me. Those things I said a while ago were said in anger.”

This was her son, the young man she’d raised to be decent, honest, and compassionate.

“You need to know who your father is. I’ve struggled with this decision for weeks. Ever since your freshman banquet.”

“Why then? Was it because I’d left home? What happened that made you feel it was…I don’t know, urgent, to tell me this.”

“Because your father was a guest speaker at the banquet, Will.”

Lin knew he was trying to recall all the guest speakers, trying to put a name to a face that, what? Reminded him of himself?

“It’s Mr. Pemberton, isn’t it?”

“How do you know?”

“Because you asked me not to donate the bone marrow. You want me to sit back and watch him die, don’t you?”

Chapter 17

“I
can’t believe you have the nerve to show your face. I should have you arrested.”

“Yeah, but you won’t. It’ll look bad in the family album.” Chelsea sat down next to her husband’s hospital bed.

“I’ve still got a few tricks up my sleeve, Chels. I’m not dead yet. Besides, after giving our ‘situation’ some thought, I realized having you arrested for
accidentally
giving me too many sleeping pills wouldn’t solve anyone’s problem. So when the police showed up, I told them I was mistaken, that I must have taken a few myself and forgotten to mention it to you. Doesn’t that sound feasible? Like something I would do. Me, the guy who rarely takes an aspirin.”

“So what is it you want from me? I know you too well.”

“Right now I can’t think of anything. But the time will come when I do, and don’t you ever forget it.”

“I’m sure if I do, you’ll remember to remind me. While we’re baring our souls to one another, there is something that I’ve wanted to tell you for such a long time. I just could never find the right time to say it. When I thought I could, then boom, something came up, and it just didn’t happen.”

“Spit it out, Chelsea. I know your tricks. If you think you’re going to use one of the many women we both know that I’ve slept with to blackmail me, or some such stupid scheme, think again. It won’t work.”

“I don’t care about your stupid flings, Nick. I’ve had a few of my own. Though as much as I hate to admit it, none of them have been half as good as you are in the sack.”

“If you think I take that as a compliment, think again.”

“I don’t care what you think. Now, where was I? Oh yes. I was about to confess something that I’d tried to in the past but never seemed to find the perfect moment. Well, Nicky dear, as the old saying goes, there’s no time like the present.” Chelsea paused. She wanted to see the look on the bastard’s face when she told him her “little” secret.

“Stop playing games, and say whatever it is you think you must say. I’m tired. Those pills aren’t out of my system yet. Amazing, wouldn’t you say?”

“Remember why we got married, Nick?”

“How could I forget? You were stupid enough to get pregnant, though savvy enough to make sure you told my father. That was a good one, Chels. I hate to admit it, but going to the old man assured you the kid would carry the Pemberton name. It’s a shame he or she never lived. I could use a blood relative right now.” Nick laughed at his own wickedness. Chelsea was in for quite a shock when she learned that he had known most of what she was about to tell him for quite some time. In the meanwhile, he was going to kick back and enjoy watching her squirm.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference either way.”

“Why is that?” Nick prompted, enjoying himself immensely.

“First, the kid wasn’t yours. It couldn’t have been, since you and I never slept together that first night. I gave you knockout drops and made sure we woke together in the altogether. Secondly, I didn’t miscarry. I had an abortion.” There! Chelsea almost choked when she saw the look on her husband’s face. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want a kid. I did, but not Ricky Salvadore’s. He was a Puerto Rican from my neighborhood. It would’ve been obvious the kid wasn’t yours. Anyway, I really tried to get pregnant, give you an heir to carry on the family name, but after good old Ricky’s bastard, it just wasn’t meant to happen.”

“You really are a coldhearted bitch! But, you know something, Chels? Except for the information about whose kid you were carrying, I knew the rest of it already. When I discovered that you had set me up, I was going to divorce your ass and leave you penniless. But then dear old Dad stepped in to save your hide. So, you see, since I can’t divorce you without suffering the consequences, I just decided to let things ride and make the best of a bad situation. Most of the time it was easier to let you have your way, since all it cost me was money.”

“Okay, so you knew all about it. And while you could probably make the world believe that you didn’t know anything about it should word that you were duped into marriage leak to the media, it would be just one more black mark against the Pemberton name. And I don’t think you want to go there. Or do you?”

“Did you set up that kidnapping scheme? It was you who fixed it so I couldn’t access my bank accounts! You really set me up, didn’t you?”

“As much as I’d like to take credit for those antics, I had nothing to do with them. I’ll take a lie detector test if you want. Wonder who did, though? And why? I’m sure it’s one of your business associates.”

“I would have to pay my business associates to kidnap you. Oh, some of them might want to sleep with you, but that’s all. You’re too scummy for the public eye. And now that you are aware that I’ve known most of your little secret all along, I’ll make sure to keep you tucked away safely somewhere where Nora and Herbert can keep an eye on you. I know how much you enjoy their company.”

“Oh, fuck off, Nick. I’m going home.”

“Actually, since you left the house a little while ago,” Nick lied to get a rise out her, “the locks have been changed. Did you really believe I would allow you to live under the same roof after you tried to kill me?”

“So what? Now I have to live downstairs in the servants’ quarters? Give me a break.”

“No, I thought that was too good for you. Since you’re really nothing but trailer trash without the trailer, I had Rosa rent one in Newark. All your things are being transported there as we speak. I hope you don’t mind. Nora wanted to pack them in suitcases, but I told her to keep your Louis Vuitton for herself and use some of those dark green garbage bags. You know, the ones that line the streets of Manhattan at night.” Nick laughed so hard, his sides hurt. The look on Chelsea’s face was priceless. The stupid woman actually believed him. “Now go on. Herbert is waiting downstairs to drive you to your new digs.”

“Fuck you, Nick.”

“No thanks. That’s what got me in trouble in the first place.”

Evan chose that moment to enter Nick’s room.

“Hello, Evan.”

“Nick. Mrs. Pemberton, you’ll have to leave now.”

“What? You can’t tell me to leave! This is my husband!” Chelsea screeched.

“Save it, Chelsea. He knows what you did with the pills. Leave now, or I’ll have Dr. Reeves call security,” said Nick.

One look at her husband’s face told Chelsea that Nick meant every word. She turned on her heel and left without another word.

“So, when are you going to let me go home? I’m sick of this place.”

“Not just yet. I hate to be the bearer of more bad news, since you’ve had so much lately, but I had the lab run a complete blood count this morning. Your red blood cells are low. Your white count is back up.”

“Damn. Just when I thought I was kicking this mess.”

“We’ll have to begin the chemo again. I’ve arranged for you to have a treatment this afternoon.”

“So what about the marrow drive? Any lucky winners?” Nick hated it that his voice sounded so fearful.

“We’re still working on it. You’re not at that stage yet, Nick. The chemo should bring you around.”

“Let’s hope so. I would hate to die and give Chelsea the last laugh.”

Evan shook his head. Nick Pemberton was the most outrageous patient he’d ever had. What was even stranger was that he was even starting to like the guy. “Hang in there, Nick. I’ll see you later.”

For the first time since he’d opened his practice, Evan asked one of the other doctors to cover for him for the rest of the day and into the next. He hadn’t spoken to Lin, and she hadn’t returned his calls. He thought they had something, or at the very least the beginning of something, but apparently Lin didn’t feel the same way.

He finished a few last-minute details on a patient’s chart, then went downstairs in search of a taxi. The same taxi driver who had recognized him from the paper was waiting at the curb.

“Doc, you’re going home early. What gives? All your patients get well and go home?”

“I wish. Just some business to attend to. I need to get to SoHo. Can you take me there now?”

“Sure, just give me the address.”

Evan spelled out Lin’s address. He felt like an anxious teenager. That was how anxious he was to see the woman who had captured his heart on such short notice. He wondered why she hadn’t returned his calls, but more important, he wanted to make sure she was okay. Though he’d known her only a few days, he knew in his heart she was the type of woman who kept her word. Something had happened that night in the emergency room, and he intended to find out exactly what it was.

“Here you are.” Evan gave the driver another hefty tip, wondering if he should ask him to wait. Deciding against it, he hurried down the sidewalk to Lin’s apartment.

He rang the doorbell, praying she was home and praying she wouldn’t slam the door in his face. For all he knew, she could have gone back to Georgia. After all, she had a business to take care of.

Evan pushed the orange neon button again. He heard the dead bolt being unlocked.

“Evan! What are you doing here?”

“I was worried about you and Will. You said you were going to wait. The desk nurse said you ran out like you’d seen a ghost or something.”

Lin opened the door all the way and stepped aside so he could come in. “I’m sorry, Evan. There are things going on in my life right now that are more of a priority than sitting around in the middle of the night at a hospital.” When she saw the look of hurt that crossed his face, she wished she could take back her callous words. She hadn’t meant to hurt him, just to tell the truth. That was going to be her new motto.
Tell the truth, no matter what.
“Please come in so we can talk. I guess I owe you an explanation.”

“If you’re sure. I don’t want to do anything to cause you any more trouble. If you’d rather I leave, I’ll understand.” The teenager that he’d reverted to made him cross his fingers that she would insist he stay.

“Honestly, I’m glad you came by. I have some questions that only you can answer.”

“Would it be those personal questions that brought you to my office?”

“Yes. I don’t know where to start, so I’ll start at the beginning. I’ve told Will what I’m about to tell you, just so you know.”

“Okay.” Evan sat on the sofa beside her.

Lin began her tale for the second time in one day.

“Will…this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do in my life. This is worse than spending night after night on my knees while my father spit on me when I didn’t recite the books of the Bible in the proper order. I think I was seven or eight the first time he actually spit on me. After that, it was the strap. He called it the devil’s tongue, I remember. Said it was hot and angry like the fires of hell. Those scars on my back, the ones you used to ask me about when you were little? They’re from the devil’s tongue. After a while your skin thickens with scars. If I was lucky, he’d hit me there. The skin was tough by then, and it didn’t even bleed as much as before.

“Did I ever tell you what the kids in school called me? Miss Stinky Pants. I was Miss Stinky Pants all through elementary school. It was true. Want to know why I was called that? Of course you do. My father forced me to pray on my knees night after night for hours, until I peed my pants. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he wouldn’t allow me to bathe. Hence the nickname. Then came the surprises. Remember, I don’t like surprises, either? I’m going to tell you why.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I do! I asked you not to interrupt. Surprises. Yes. As I got older, my father refused to allow me to shut my bedroom door. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t hiding anything. Hell, what would I have hidden? Once, when he came home, I had mistakenly closed my door. He took it off the hinges. When I would shower, I had to leave the door open—”

“Mom!”

“I never knew when he was going to come inside the bathroom and yank the shower curtain aside. That’s why I don’t like surprises, Will. That is what my father called them. Surprises. And you know what he thought? He actually believed he would catch me doing something obscene and vulgar! I never wanted you to know any of these horrid details of my life. I wanted to protect you from men like him. I wasn’t going to allow anyone to abuse or threaten my child as I’d been abused and threatened.


One weekend I was allowed to go to Atlanta, to a math competition, and stay with a girl who had been on the math team. That was really the first time in my life I was allowed out of the house on my own with no curfew, no restrictions. All my father said to me that day when I left was that I’d best win, or he and the devil’s tongue would be waiting for me when I came home. We won, of course. But I’d lied to my father. I’d told him the competition lasted a week, when in reality it was only three days. We went to a party at someone’s apartment. I can’t even remember who, not that it matters now. I met your father there. He was the most handsome young man I’d ever seen. I spent the next few days with him. I don’t need to tell you the details, but that’s when you were conceived. I came home happier than I’d ever been. He promised he’d call and that we would find a way to be together. But he never called, and it wasn’t until much later that I even knew how to reach him.

“My father heard me throwing up in the bathroom one morning two months later. He assumed I’d been drinking, but of course I hadn’t. I was suffering from morning sickness. He made me memorize the book of Genesis that day. I was so sick, I threw up in the middle of the living room while I was supposed to be praying. He hit me. Then the next thing I knew, I woke up lying in a pool of vomit and urine. A few days later I told my father I was expecting a baby and intended to keep it. He threw me out into the street with nothing but the clothes on my back, and I never went home again.”

“And my father was like your father?”

“That’s just it. I never knew. Beyond those few days, I never saw your father again. Two months before you were born, I managed to get an address for him and began to send him letters. I sent dozens of letters over the next year or so. They would always come back unopened, marked
‘return to sender.’”

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