Taylor Lynne: The Women of Merryton - Book Two (34 page)

Rachel Laine

The Women of Merryton —
Book Three

Sneak Peek

Chapter
One

“Rachel Laine, Andrew
Turner is here to see you,” Liza our receptionist informed me by phone.

“Andrew Turner?” I wasn’t
expecting anyone this afternoon and the name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t
place him.

“You know,
the
Andrew Turner?” she whispered, trying to be covert.

I still wasn’t getting
it.

“Andrew Turner, the
all-star pitcher for the Bears,” she said as if I was completely dense. I also
detected a hint of excitement in her voice as she said his name.

I thought for a moment.
He was the guy Cheyenne had been after for a while, or maybe still was. It was
hard to tell with her. I wondered why he would be here to see me. Perhaps he
bought a new home in our lovely mountain town of Merryton and needed it
insured. Regardless, I had time to see him, so I told her to send him back.

Within a minute there was
a knock on my door. I opened the door only to find very familiar eyes staring
at me. So familiar I almost gasped. There was no mistaking the amber eyes that
looked like liquid gold framed with deep brown eyelashes. Those eyes had gotten
Drew his way on more occasions than one. They were the reason we had a dog, a
later bedtime, and a myriad of other things I said we would never have. But
right now they were staring right at me and making me feel anything but the
love I normally felt when I saw those eyes.

My first thought was,
Why
didn’t Sydney tell me that this was
the
Andrew
. My second thought
was to slam the door in his face.

He cleared his throat as
I glared at him.

“Sydney,” he said and
then shook his head. “I’m sorry, I meant Rachel. It’s just you look so much
alike.”

I hadn’t been called
Sydney in ages and it stung. After eight years there wasn’t a day that went by
that I didn’t think of her or miss her. Sometimes Drew would say something or
he would make a face and I would see her. It made me realize she hadn’t
completely left me, but sometimes in those moments I missed her so much I
physically ached.

Him saying her name made
me angry. I felt he had no right to speak her name, like he had no right to be
here.

“Yes, that’s what happens
when you share a placenta with someone for nine months.”

He cracked a smile. I
recognized that crooked grin.

“Anyway” he said, “I’m
looking for Sydney. I’m hoping you can help me find her.”

I began to tremble
slightly. I felt my own face become pale. He didn’t know.

“Is there something
wrong?”

I motioned for him to
come in. “Have a seat.” I pointed at my couch.

He sat on one end and I sat
on the far side. We stared at one another for a moment. I couldn’t believe my
son’s father was Andrew Turner, and here he was sitting in front of me
completely clueless that I was raising the son he never knew or even cared to
find.

“Mr. Turner.”

He looked confused. “Andrew,
please.”

I didn’t want to call him
anything but foul names, but I refrained and continued. “Sydney passed away a
little over eight years ago.”

His tanned faced suddenly
became ghostly white. “I’m sorry, I had no idea. How did she die? I’m sorry
that is none of my business.”

It was more his business
than he knew. “In childbirth,” I responded coldly with a knowing look. Yes, I
wanted to say. I know it’s you.

He too gave me a
meaningful look as he pulled out a letter and handed it to me.

I carefully unfolded it.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.

Dear Andrew,

I’m going to go back home
to Merryton. I know you don’t believe this baby is yours, but it’s true. Can’t
you see by my leaving how much I care about you? I know I said some things I
shouldn’t have, but I never wanted to ruin your career or use you because of
your fame. I only wanted you to care about me like I care about you. I wanted
you to love our baby.

I’m not sure where I will
go after our baby is born, but if you ever want to know where we are, contact
my sister Rachel Laine. She always knows where I am.

With Love,

Sydney

I could barely read the
last sentences through my tear-filled eyes. I remembered how depressed she was
before Drew was born. It was so unusual for her, but I think she really did
care about this man in front of me. Our whole lives she had been the life of
the party. We may have looked identical, but in personality we were complete
opposites. I followed the rules and she burned the rulebook. I cried when I got
a B in school and she rejoiced when she got a D because at least she passed.

I handed back the letter
and stood up to retrieve a tissue from my desk.

“What happened to the
baby?” he asked while my back was turned to him.

I tried to compose
myself. I didn’t want to tell him about Drew. He didn’t deserve to know, and then
a sudden thought occurred to me. What if he wanted to take him away from me?
Could he? Legally Drew was mine, but could a biological father change that even
after all of this time? I felt ill at the thought and grabbed my desk.

“Rachel, please.”

I closed my eyes and
breathed out. “Why do you want to know?”

“I’m not going to lie.
I’m contemplating running for office and I need to make sure there isn’t
anything from my past that could impede my ability to win.”

I whipped around. “So
you’re only worried he could be a liability to your campaign?”

“No, that sounds
terrible. I meant …” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he tried to
dig himself out of the huge hole he’d dug, but then I watched as what I had
said dawned on him. “Did you say
he
?”

I turned and grabbed one
of the many framed pictures of Drew off my desk. This particular one was his
latest school photo. His huge grin showcased his two missing front teeth. Teeth
or no teeth he was the most handsome boy with his sandy brown hair and dimples.
He had a smile that melted my heart. I looked at the photo and then at the man
in front of me. There was no mistaking; Andrew Turner was my son’s father. Drew
was the spitting image of his father.

Andrew took the photo and
studied it intently. I saw the spark of recognition in his eyes. He had to know
it was his son.

“My
son,
Drew, is
in third grade and he is the best kid to ever walk the face of this earth.”

Andrew looked up at me
and slowly handed back the picture. “He looks happy.”

“He is.”

“I need to know if he’s
really mine.”

“Why? Are you planning on
being part of his life now?”

“No—”

I narrowed my eyes at him
and he squirmed.

“I mean, I don’t know.
It’s just important I know.”

“If you’re worried about
whether or not Drew and I will adversely affect your precious campaign, let me
put your mind at ease. Drew has no idea who you are. He doesn’t even know your
name. I didn’t even know your full name until today. So you can walk out that
door and keep pretending like Drew never existed. I promise we will do the same
for you.”

The mama bear in me
wanted to come out so badly. If I could have clawed his eyes out I would have.
How dare he come in here after all these years and how dare he only be worried
about himself. Part of me was relieved that he seemed to want nothing to do
with my son, but what kind of man waits eight years to find out if he really
fathered a child? From the looks of it, a selfish man.

He stood up and I wasn’t
sure what the look on his face meant. Relief perhaps?

“Would you allow for a
paternity test?” he had the audacity to ask.

“I don’t see why that’s
necessary.”

Again with the neck
rubbing. “If he’s mine, I want to fulfill my financial obligation.”

“Your financial
obligation?” I scoffed. “Don’t you think you should have thought about that
when my twenty-one-year-old sister told you she was pregnant?”

“Look,” he raised his
voice, “I know I’ve made some mistakes here, but I’m trying to right them.”

“No, what you’re trying
to do is cover them up by writing a check. You can keep your money; we don’t
want it or need it. Drew has always been well taken care of.”

“Rachel, I didn’t mean to
imply that he wasn’t, I just want to …”

“Cover your tracks.” I
finished for him.

He hung his head down.

“Don’t worry Mr. Turner,
your secret won’t leave this room, so feel free to announce your candidacy for
whatever it is you are running for. From what I can tell you already have the
makings of a fine politician.”

He stared hard at me with
those eyes of his. I wished he wouldn’t. I could read them so well and they
pleaded for understanding, but I couldn’t understand this. I couldn’t
understand a father not wanting to know his son, especially my Drew.

He didn’t respond.

“Excuse me, it’s time for
me to pick up
my
son from school.”

I seethed all the way
over to Mountain Brook Elementary, but once in the car line I began to worry.
All of the what if’s began to accumulate in my worrisome mind. I didn’t like
the fact he knew about Drew and where to find us. I also could no longer tell
Drew that I had no idea who his father was. From time to time he would ask. I
knew it was natural for him to want to know, even part of me was curious. I
would have never guessed in a million years that Sydney had a semi-famous
secret. No wonder she never wanted to say. I wondered if I told Drew who he was
if he would want to meet him.

Call me selfish, but I
didn’t want to share Drew, especially with someone that obviously cared more
about himself than anyone else. Part of me had always felt like an impostor
since I didn’t give birth to him. I know it is dumb, but I couldn’t help it.
Drew knew I wasn’t his biological mother. He knew I was really his aunt, but he
had always called me Mommy or Mom. Since Sydney and I were genetically
identical, he did look like my son, but he looked more like Andrew Turner’s
son.

Andrew Turner looked a
lot like I had pictured Drew’s father to be. He was tall and handsome with
those unusual amber eyes. He wasn’t an unapproachable handsome. You know the
kind of man that is way too good looking and every woman is attracted to. No,
he was only nice looking, but I bet his profession had women throwing
themselves at him. Women like my sister and Cheyenne. I probably shouldn’t have
been surprised she chose someone like him. She loved the limelight, but she
also loved the ridiculously attractive men too. Andrew didn’t really look like
her type. Truth be told, he was more my type—minus the self-centeredness—if I
had a type or the time.

I tried to forget about
him, but seeing my little guy who wasn’t so little anymore was a glaring
reminder. I didn’t need a paternity test to tell me that Andrew Turner was his
father; my eyes and heart could do that.

“Hey, big guy,” I said
with a smile as he climbed into our Grand Cherokee.

“Hi, Mom.”

I loved that title more
than any other and today in particular it made my heart melt.

“What was your favorite
part of school today, besides recess and lunch?” I asked as soon as he was
buckled in.

I could see him grin in
the rearview mirror. I asked the same thing every day.

He thought for a moment
before his eyes lit up. “Andy laughed so hard that milk came out of his nose.”
The thought made him laugh. His laughter was contagious, so I had no choice but
to laugh as well.

After we calmed down and
we were back on the road to the office I asked my other usual, “Did you learn
anything interesting today?”

“Nope,” he responded.

“Nothing at all?”

“Mom, I told you school
is soooo boring. I already know everything.”

“That’s great because I
was hoping you could take over my job.”

“Mom …”

“Well since you know
everything.”

“Okay—maybe not
everything.”

“I guess I’ll keep my job
and you can keep going to school.”

He rolled his eyes at me.
I knew he really liked school, especially the social part, but he was too smart
for both of our own goods at times. The school had talked to me about moving
him up a grade, but he was already one of the youngest in his class with a July
birthday, so I declined. I did agree to let him go to fourth grade for math
though.

I noticed my dad’s old
Ford truck in the parking lot when we pulled up. Drew did too and was excited
to see his grandpa. He wasted no time unbuckling himself as soon as I stopped.
He was out the door and running into the office before I could make it to the
curb. I credited him for my still slim figure. Who needed diet and exercise
when you had an energetic boy to chase after?