Wild Honey (25 page)

In the end Troy had apologized for the comparison to their father at his worst. He said he realized Travis was motivated by love, whereas the old Trent McLean had been blindly selfish. Still, Travis had acted blindly, too. He hadn’t seen what he was doing.

Just as he hadn’t seen what he was doing with Randi? A good question. He loved the woman, and he’d have sworn he was only trying to help her. But he’d have sworn the same about Troy, and Troy had practically accused him of being a control freak, for God’s sake! Was that what he was?

Heaving a sigh, he headed for Langley. The company shrink wouldn’t talk to him, but maybe he could consult the Internet for some insights. He had a lot to think about.

L
IPS PURSED
, twisting this way and that, Matt eyed his reflection in his mother’s antique pier glass. They were in her bedroom, and Matt’s apparel for the wedding had just arrived from the tailor. “Boy, this getup sure is fancy,” he muttered.

“Ring bearer’s an important job, honey,” Randi said fussing with a cuff on his tuxedo pants—no easy matter, given his squirming—“and weddings are pretty fancy affairs.”

“Yeah, but I’m glad we didn’t get those stupid shorts.” He wrinkled his nose. “They were
too
fancy.”

Suspecting Matt’s definition of “fancy” ran along lessthan-positive lines, his mother smiled to herself, but didn’t comment. The “shorts” he spoke of were the formal short pants that were traditional garb for ring bearers. Matt had refused to wear them. And while Jill had gone along, Randi thought he looked so adorable in them she’d tried to push the issue. But not too far, thank goodness.

It was one of many checks she’d made on such behavior lately. Controlling behavior, according to what she’d learned in sessions with Carol Martin. She hadn’t merely been growing overprotective, as Jill had once suggested; at a time when Matt needed to become less dependent, she’d been trying to keep control of him in lots of little, but telltale, ways.

Children who’ve suffered abuse often grow into controlling adults.
The doctor’s words echoed in her mind.
Because
they once felt so utterly helpless, they’re driven to prevent this from happening again. By exerting an iron control over their lives, they hope never again to become victims. But through this behavior they make themselves victims of another sort, becoming prisoners of their own fears. And when these fears extend to their children, they can become overcontrolling parents.

“Mom, how come we don’t do stuff with Travis anymore?”

Matt’s words jarred her, she blinked at him, trying to focus on his question. Or, more to the point, form a reply.

Travis was a delicate subject. He was in her thoughts more than she’d admitted to anyone except for Carol, but she avoided discussing him at home. She missed him so fiercely she feared breaking into tears in front of everyone; those she shed at night, aching and alone in her bed, were bad enough.

But she’d sent Travis away, and he finally seemed to have taken her at her word; following that initial flurry of phone calls, he’d made no further effort to contact her. Ironically this hurt, since she’d avoided contact herself; but she had a lot to sort out with regard to Travis. Surrendering control for Matt was one thing; surrendering it to a man—a man who’d already demonstrated his ability to make her lose control of her body—was something else entirely. It frightened her.

Counseling was helping her to understand and deal with her fears. But then there was the guilt. The guilt she felt every time she looked at her son and remembered how happy they’d all been together—she, Matt and Travis. Every time she looked into her son’s eyes and saw not just the son, but the father. Every time Matt mentioned that father and she couldn’t reply—because she’d sent him away. Every time—like now.
Think fast, Terhune!

“Oh…well, honey, uh, didn’t you just see that Disney movie with him last week?”

“Yeah, it was great!” Matt’s grin faded as he turned to her. “But that was just me ‘n’ Travis, Mom. How come we don’t do stuff with
you?
Don’t you like Travis anymore?”

Like him? I
ache
for
him,
but I’m afraid! Oh, God, I’m so confused! He said he cared about me, that he wanted to marry me, even, but…how can I believe him or trust him when he—Don’t cry, Terhune. Don’t you dare cry!

Stooping to pick up some tissue paper that had fallen from the tailor’s box, she avoided Matt’s eyes and summoned a reply. “Well, honey, I’ve been awfully busy lately, what with the wedding and…and my work at the hospital.”

It sounded lame even to her. The look she glimpsed on Matt’s face said he didn’t buy it, either.

“Tell you what,” she said briskly. “Let’s get you out of these things. We don’t want them to get wrinkled, and—”

“Mom…”

She looked at him, and the unfamiliar sadness in his eyes was an arrow through her heart. “What is it, darling?” she asked.

Matt’s bottom lip trembled as he looked up at her out of Travis’s eyes. “I really do wish Travis could be my daddy. I wish it so hard, Mom! I’m gonna tell God ‘bout it tonight, but…do you think God’ll listen to me, Mom? I mean, I been tryin’ to be real good, but…” He swallowed a sob.

Randi nearly staggered under the pain as she moved toward him and bent to take him in her arms.
Dear Lord, help me. Help me respond without hurting
him.
Help me erase the sadness in his eyes.
“Matt, darling, listen to me. You
are
good, and I don’t doubt for a minute that God knows it. He knows everything.”

“Yeah, but will He
do
it, Mom? Will He make Travis my daddy?” Tears trembled through the plaintive query, and she felt them clogging her throat, as well.

“I…I can’t answer for the Lord, son,” she stammered, “but I do believe He hears our prayers. As for answering them, though…well, God does what’s best for us, though we may not always agree. Sometimes we just have to wait and see what He has in mind.”

It was a temporary answer at best; but how could she give him a more definitive one when she didn’t know where she herself stood with Travis? Fortunately it seemed to satisfy Matt. With a sniffle, he nodded against her chest.

She gave him a squeeze, then somehow managed, in a more cheerful voice, “Hey, isn’t it nearly time for ‘Barney’?”

He brightened instantly, and Randi swore eternal gratitude for the smiling dinosaur, syrupy lyrics and all.

“Barney’s great, isn’t he, Mom?” Matt asked with a grin. As Randi helped him out of the wedding clothes, he broke into the familiar lyrics about love and a happy family.

A happy family,
her inner voice taunted. If only she hadn’t blown it. If only she wasn’t such a coward.

A
FEW DAYS LATER
Randi hurried out of the elevator at work, car keys in hand. It was after two in the morning, and she was bone-tired. Yet her shift in the ER had been no more demanding than usual; she knew her exhaustion had to do with sleeping poorly, not the job.

She’d been having disturbing dreams. Or, rather, a single recurring dream. But it wasn’t one of the nightmares she’d suffered before. Those, thank heaven, had disappeared once she’d begun addressing her buried memories in counseling.

But this dream was no less troubling. It began with Matt saying his prayers. Prayers that asked God fervently if Travis could be his daddy. Then the scene shifted, and Matt was there again, but he was all grown-up; he looked just like Travis, yet she knew it was Matt, because he spoke to her: “Why’d you do it, Mom?” he asked. “Why’d you hide my daddy away?”

Quelling the stab of guilt summoned by the vivid image, Randi hurried toward the employees’ parking garage. The underground space was brightly lit; a scattering of cars belonging to those on the night shift threw stark shadows on its cement floor and walls as she made her way to the Jeep.

The Cherokee was parked in a far corner. As she approached, one of the shadows detached itself from the concrete. She gave a start, halting at the sound of an all-toofamiliar voice.

“Randi?”

Travis.
She wasn’t prepared for this. Why had he come? What did he want?

“I’m sorry I startled you.” Travis saw her unvoiced questions and read the dismay in her eyes. “And if you want me to leave, I will. But I’m hopin’ you’ll give me a few minutes, Randi. Just a few minutes…please?”

He was handsome as ever, although about his mouth and eyes she detected lines of tiredness that hadn’t been there before. She watched him search her face, and his eloquent gaze shone silver in the artificial light. Her heart gave a little twist as memories swirled and imploded in her brain….

Sitting on a moonlit beach, sharing marshmallows and champagne…his boyish grin as he offered her a bouquet of wildflowers…his solid strength beside her as he drove through a storm while she held their child in her arms…his laughter, merging with hers over funny stories about her father…his gentle careful hands on her body while she—God, she had to stop this!

“Travis, it’s—” she swallowed around the painful lump in her throat, began again. “It’s awfully late, and…” She heaved a sigh. “All right, then. What is it?”

“A couple of things.” He tried for a reassuring smile, but didn’t quite succeed. “First, it’s about the apology I kept tryin’ to make all those times I called. I was way off base with that cruise idea, Randi, and I’m so godawful
sorry. Sorrier than I can put into words, but…well, words are all I have right now.” He shrugged helplessly.

When she didn’t say anything, he went on, watching her face, trying to gauge her mood. “And I’m sorry I dragged your sister into it. It was all my idea, and Jill only went along reluctantly. She’s not to blame for—”

“Maybe you should be telling that to Jill!” she snapped. She’d been stung to learn of Jill’s participation, but had long since put it behind her; she’d figured her sister was as much a victim of Travis’s machinations as she was. She knew how persuasive he could be. “I haven’t mentioned it to her myself, but if you’ve got a guilty conscience, you might—”

“Uh, I have actually, but I…well, I just wanted to touch base with you on that score.”

He’d been talking with Jill? She supposed it shouldn’t surprise her; she was aware of the good rapport the two of them had, and she knew Jill had arranged for his visits with Matt. Still, the notion that they’d been discussing other things—discussing
her
—didn’t sit well. “Oh? And what else have you two been discussing?” she asked testily.

Travis stifled a sigh. This wasn’t going well at all. Still, he had to try, especially since Jill had given him an ultimatum regarding what he was about to say. “Well, now that you ask, we—Jill and I, that is—think you oughtta know ‘bout somethin’ she, uh, once told me.”

Randi felt a premonition of dread. A lump of ice settled in her chest as she caught the look in his eyes. Was he saying…? No. Jill would never have told him any of that. She couldn’t have!

“Randi, Jill confided in me. Weeks ago. She, uh, told me all about herself. Told me what happened to her when she was a kid. ‘Bout the…abuse. She wanted me to know.”

There was a loud humming in her ears as she stood there, desperately trying to make sense of this. Of why Jill would impart such knowledge to Travis. And weeks ago, he’d
said Dear God, weeks ago, he’d been a virtual stranger! “But I d-don’t understand,” she stammered. “Why? How…?”

“Because I was deeply worried, Randi, ‘bout you and Matt. I knew somethin’ was wrong, somethin’ that was makin’ you afraid. Of me. Of men. All kinds of crazy ideas were goin’ around in my head. And so I asked Jill about it, and…and that’s when she told me.”

“She told you,” Randi repeated dully. It didn’t seem possible. None of this seemed real. If Jill had shared that with him, had he guessed the rest? When she, herself, had stumbled on the harrowing truth about herself on the
Sarah Anne,
had Travis already known?

He saw the turmoil on her face and rushed to explain. “It was
her
history I heard, Randi, not yours, except in directly. You’d been affected, she said. Frightened by what you’d witnessed as a kid.” He gave her a look so intense she nearly stepped back from the force of it. “And that’s all she told me, I swear it.”

“But…but it was private! It was family business. Aside from the professionals who helped, no one who’s still alive knows about it, except David, and he’s as good as family. Why would Jill tell
you?”

Pain lanced through him.
Because I’m family, too. Because at the time she told me Jill recognized this even if you didn’t. Knew my involvement with Matt had gone far beyond biological ties. Jill knew I loved him, dammit!

As the silent words rang in his mind, Travis fought to hide the pain and form a reply; he was here to try to rebuild the shattered trust between them, not aim accusations that would only drive her further away.

“Maybe,” he began carefully, “she did it for Matt’s sake, Randi. I don’t know, but she did it. It was only the other day, when we talked on the phone, that we…we agreed it was time to let you know.”

What Jill had said actually was that she’d no longer be
bound by his insistence that Randi not know he’d been told. “I don’t know what went on between you two recently,” she’d added, “but I’ve got a feeling it has to do with trust. Trust isn’t something my sister has in great supply, and I don’t want to add to that insecurity. It’s time all our cards were on the table, Travis. If you don’t find a way to tell her, I will.”

Randi didn’t move. Was that pain she’d glimpsed in his eyes? She couldn’t tell; she was wrestling with her own pain. What kept going round and round in her head was how terribly vulnerable she was to him. He knew the most intimate things about her—the shame of her past, her fears, the way those fears were impinging on the present in ways she was only beginning to understand. And all the while, in the back of her mind, she could still hear Matt’s voice in the dream—
Why’d you hide my daddy away?

Dear God, help me! I don’t know what to do!

Travis felt something in him twist and tear at the trapped look in her eyes. Maybe it had been a mistake to come. For all his good intentions, he always seemed to make things worse. Maybe she’d be better off if he just let it alone. Hadn’t he learned he wasn’t in charge here? Had the exchange with Troy taught him nothing?

The uncertain silence yawned between them like a vast sea, with the two of them on opposite shores. Finally Travis remembered the last, but most critical, reason he’d come. There was one thing more he had to say to her. One thing, and then he’d leave.

“Randi, before I go, there’s somethin’ I need you to know.”

He paused, and she realized he was waiting for her to acknowledge something. The importance of what he was about to tell her? Her assurance that she’d listen? It was so unlike him she nearly winced, unprepared for the stab of regret she felt; of all she’d regarded as characteristic of him, his utter self-confidence had always topped the list.
Oh,
Travis, have I made you so uncertain? I never meant to. But
I’m
still so afraid, don’t you see? I’m afraid!