Читать книгу The Family Plan - GINA WILKINS - Страница 11

T he offices seemed different without Nathan in them. Quieter. More solemn, somehow. For some reason people tended to speak in near whispers—both the clients in the waiting room and the few employees at their desks.

Did Nathan really make that much noise, Caitlin wondered during a brief respite Friday afternoon, or was everyone responding to the tension in the offices due to his extended absence?

Appointments and court dates had been shuffled, reshuffled and rescheduled, and Caitlin was having to work frantically to keep up. Irene worked the organizational miracles Caitlin had come to expect from her, but Caitlin had to admit the efficient office manager was a rather intimidating presence. Nathan’s habitual joviality served as a counterbalance to Irene’s pragmatism and Caitlin’s naturally quiet manner. Without him the office simply wasn’t as…well, as alive.

She missed him. And the next time she saw him, she fully intended to let him have it for leaving work dangling this long with little notice and even less explanation of what was keeping him in California.

The few calls they had received from him had been brief, uninformative, and carefully timed so that Caitlin wouldn’t be there to talk to him. The messages had all come relayed through Irene or one of the other staff members. Basically they all said the same thing: “Sorry. Still tied up here. Be back as soon as possible.”

No personal messages for her, but, then, she hadn’t expected any, she assured herself. She simply wanted him to hurry back because she was tired of trying to handle everything here by herself.

Late in the afternoon she sat at her desk, focusing on her computer screen and popping M&M’s into her mouth in lieu of the lunch she hadn’t had time to eat. Irene tapped on the door and entered carrying a stack of folders. “Here are the files you asked for.”

“Thanks. Another wild day, isn’t it?”

“It has been…eventful.”

Caitlin pushed a hand through her slightly disheveled hair. “You haven’t heard from Nathan this afternoon?”

“No, Mr. McCloud hasn’t called.”

Caitlin bit her lip, making no comment about the heavy disapproval in Irene’s voice. The office manager seemed to think Nathan was off on an impulsive vacation, leaving her and Caitlin and the rest of the staff to deal with the resulting chaos. Caitlin couldn’t believe that. Nathan might duck out for an afternoon of golf or fishing, but surely he wouldn’t leave them in the lurch this long unless something was wrong.

He had told his mother he was taking a few days of well-deserved vacation time. His siblings, of course, knew where he was, but Caitlin doubted they had shared that information with their mother.

Had there been a problem with putting the child up for adoption? Had the girl’s guardian changed her mind despite her grave illness? Or maybe Nathan was staying until he was certain the child would be safely placed in a suitable home. That wouldn’t surprise her. Despite his sometimes lackadaisical approach to work, Nathan’s sense of responsibility to his family was hyperdeveloped.

Or maybe he was simply having a hard time letting Isabelle go.

Caitlin still sympathized with his dilemma, but, oh, was she getting tired, she thought with a sigh, rubbing the back of her taut neck.

To add to her tension level, she had taken on a new case—a medical malpractice claim—that had seemed fairly straightforward at the beginning, but was mushrooming into what could very well prove to be an extremely expensive legal action. She had no doubt that her client had been the victim of malpractice, but such claims were difficult to prove, and the doctor in question was practically a legend in this part of the state. Wealthy, highly visible, socially powerful.

She was beginning to wonder if she’d gotten in over her head. And it didn’t help that her partner wasn’t around for consultations.

She was developing an incipient headache that threatened to become a migraine. Tapping on her computer keyboard with one hand, she used the other to toss two pain-killers into her mouth, washing them down with a sip of cold coffee. The taste made her shudder, but she kept working, refusing to let the stress get the best of her.

Someone tapped on her open office door. Without taking her eyes from the computer screen, she said, “Whatever it is, just lay it on my desk. I’ll get to it as soon as I can.”

“I don’t really think your desk is the right place for me to put what I’m holding.”

Her physical reaction to the sound of Nathan’s deep voice rather surprised her. Her heart jumped, her pulse sped up and a quiver went through her…..

Relief, she assured herself. What else could it be?

She hit the buttons on her keyboard to save her work. “It’s about time you got back,” she said, turning to face him. “I—”

Her words trailed into silence when she saw him. Or, more specifically, when she saw the sleeping toddler he held in his arms, her golden head resting trustingly on his shoulder.

“Irene, hold my calls, please.” Releasing the intercom button on her phone, Caitlin leaned back slowly in her chair, still staring at Nathan and the child. She kept her voice low to avoid waking the little girl when she said, “You brought her back with you.”

His expression was a complex mixture of sheepishness, defensiveness and what might have been a touch of fear. “Yes.”

“Have you lost your mind?”

He grimaced. “Probably. But I really had no other choice.”

The funny thing was, she wasn’t as surprised as she should have been. Maybe deep inside she had expected this all along.

She sighed. “What happened?”

Balancing the child with a rather endearing awkwardness, he settled carefully into a chair before replying, “She recognized me as soon as she saw me, can you believe that? She’s just a baby and it’s been months since I saw her last, but the minute I walked into the room, she came running up to me saying ‘Nate,’ which is what she’s always called me.”

“That is surprising.” The tot hardly looked old enough to talk, much less to remember names and faces.

“I can tell you it gave me a funny feeling when she put her arms up for a hug as if it were only the day before when we saw each other last.”

“Was that when you decided to bring her home with you?”

“No. I was still trying to convince myself that it would be better to give her up. Anyway, I spent a couple of hours with her, and then I went to the hospital to visit her great-aunt, Barbara Houston. While I was there, one of the nurses, who seemed quite nice, called me aside to tell me that she and her husband were interested in adopting Isabelle.”

He shifted Isabelle to a more comfortable position in his arms. “The nurse said she met Isabelle when the pastor brought her to the hospital to visit Mrs. Houston. She claimed she’d become quite fond of her. And then she proceeded to ask me a few dozen questions about Isabelle’s trust fund and whether any of it would be available to whoever adopted her.”

Caitlin winced. “Ouch.”

“She tried to be subtle about it, of course. She claimed that she simply needed to know the details for Isabelle’s sake, that she wanted to be sure the child would have her needs met during her childhood. But I’ve dealt with greed enough to recognize it when I see it.”

“So because one woman was more interested in the trust fund than the child, you decided everyone would be?”

He hesitated, then grimaced. “I know how it sounds, but you didn’t see that woman’s eyes. There isn’t quite a fortune in the trust fund, but the insurance settlement from the tourist helicopter company was sizable enough to draw plenty of attention. No matter where Isabelle ends up, the trust fund is secure until she’s eighteen, but some people might think there are ways to get around the safeguards.”

“There are plenty of couples who would love to have a little girl like Isabelle whether or not she has a dime to her name,” Caitlin reminded him.

“I’m aware of that. But there would be no way for me to know for certain,” he said stubbornly.

She decided not to bother suggesting that he’d latched on to the first valid excuse he’d found to change his mind about the adoption. He’d probably known from the moment Isabelle had run to greet him that he couldn’t give her to strangers, no matter what the repercussions.

“So what are you going to do now?”

He swallowed before he answered. “I’ve spent the past few days having myself named her guardian. The process was expedited because of Mrs. Houston’s illness, but it still took some finagling. Fortunately, Alan has some influence there.”

Caitlin shook her head in amazement as the reality of what he had done sank in. “You’re her guardian.”

She would have sworn he lost a bit of color, but he nodded gamely. “I have sole responsibility for her now. As I said, there wasn’t anyone else.”

“So now what? You’re surely not going to try to raise her yourself?”

“Well…yeah.”

She felt herself sink further into her chair. “Nathan, you can’t. What do you know about raising children? A little girl?”

“Nothing,” he admitted frankly. “But I’ll learn.”

“Just like that?”

“What other choice do I have?”

“You can—” She glanced at the child to make sure she was still asleep, then lowered her voice to a whisper, anyway. “You can still put her up for adoption. Take a little time to find a nice family you can trust with her safety and her trust fund.”

“I figure I’ll adopt her myself. I’ve handled a few adoptions in my time, even a couple for single parents. With the advantage of being her biological half brother, I shouldn’t run into any serious problems.”

And then what? Caitlin stared at him, trying to imagine footloose Nathan McCloud trading in his sports car for a minivan. Cooking macaroni and cheese, doing laundry, attending PTA meetings….

“You have lost your mind,” she decided aloud.

“I can see why you might think so,” he answered rather stiffly.

“Have you told your family?”

“Not yet. I came here straight from the airport.”

“Do you…” She paused while she mentally groped for the right words. “Do you think they’ll be able to accept her?”

She watched as he held the toddler closer. “I hope so. They’ve got good hearts, despite the pain my father caused them. I find it hard to believe they could look at Isabelle and not fall for her, despite the circumstances of her conception.”

Caitlin wasn’t so sure. Lenore McCloud was a woman who was greatly concerned with her social standing. Having just rebounded from her former husband’s betrayal, she wasn’t going to easily accept this reminder. Gideon was a taciturn, withdrawn man—a writer who seemed to live more inside his head than in the real world. She couldn’t imagine him melting in response to a child’s smile.

Caitlin had only met Deborah a couple of times, but Caitlin had gotten an impression of a woman who was impulsive, tempestuous and stubborn—a volatile mixture of her brothers’ diverse personalities.

Nathan had a tough road ahead of him.

“I sure hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Are you kidding? I don’t have a clue. I’m open to any advice I can get.”

“Don’t look at me.” She held up both hands. “I know nothing about raising kids—or placating irate family members. I was an only child, remember, and my family actually got along pretty well, despite our other problems.”

“You’ve never told me much about your family,” Nathan remarked. “I’d like to hear about them sometime.”

She didn’t want to talk about her family now. She wondered if it was incredibly selfish of her to be wondering how Nathan’s impulsive move would affect her. Professionally speaking, of course, she assured herself—though she knew there was something more to her stunned reaction than that. Something she didn’t want to think about right now.

With a drowsy murmur, Isabelle roused and lifted her head from Nathan’s shoulder. Her big blue eyes were still heavy-lidded when she looked around in curiosity at her new surroundings, her gaze finally settling on Caitlin’s face. “Hi,” she said.

A bit surprised by the calm greeting, Caitlin attempted a friendly smile, hoping it wasn’t as stiff as it felt. “Hello, Isabelle.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Caitlin.”

“Miss Caitlin,” Nathan murmured, deeply ingrained Southern traditions kicking in.

“Are you Nate’s friend?”

Apparently Nathan hadn’t exaggerated when he had gone on about how smart and well-spoken his half sister was for her age. There was hardly a baby lisp in the clear little voice. “Yes, I’m Nathan’s friend.”

“I’m his sister.”

Caitlin couldn’t help smiling again at the quiet pride in the statement. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m going to live with him now. Aunt Barb is sick.”

The desk intercom buzzed before Caitlin could reply. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Briley, but the call you’ve been waiting for is on line two.”

“You’d better take that.” Nathan stood. “Isabelle and I are going to my office to see how much work has piled up while I’ve been away.”

“You probably don’t want to know,” Caitlin warned as she reached for the phone. “Don’t you want to go home for a while before you dive in?”

“I thought I would gather some things to take home with me. I can get some work done tonight after Isabelle’s asleep.”

“I’m not tired,” the child said quickly.

Nathan chuckled. “I didn’t say you have to go to bed now. I meant later.”

“Okay. Can I get down now?”

“Sure.” He set her on her feet.

Dressed in a purple-and-green-striped knit top with purple pants, her feet encased in impossibly tiny white sneakers, her blond curls tumbling almost to her shoulders, the child looked like a life-size porcelain doll. Caitlin couldn’t get over how lovely she was. Maybe Nathan was right. Maybe his family would be too captivated by the child to hold her parentage against her. Maybe.

Nathan held out his hand to Isabelle. “C’mon, poppet, let’s leave Miss Caitlin to her call. I’ll show you my office.”

Lifting the receiver to her ear and pushing the button for line two, Caitlin spoke absently into the mouthpiece, but her attention was focused on the twosome leaving her office. Stunned was hardly the word to describe her feelings at the thought of Nathan bringing a child home as casually as he would have adopted a puppy.

She couldn’t even imagine his family’s reaction to the development.

Okay, so he had been a little conniving.

Nathan knew very well that Caitlin had never intended to come home with him that evening, but when she had asked, as they were leaving the office, if there was anything she could do to help him out, he’d jumped on the offer so quickly and so fervently that she’d had no chance to back out.

He had assured her that he just needed a little help getting Isabelle set up in his home and had promised he wouldn’t keep Caitlin long. Almost before she’d realized what she had agreed to, they were in their cars, Caitlin following as Nathan drove home.

He glanced in the rearview mirror to check on Isabelle, who was belted into a toddler seat behind him on what passed for a back seat in his small car. He’d brought the toddler seat from California; decorated with Sesame Street characters, it was the one she’d used in Barbara Houston’s car. Nathan thought it was important for Isabelle to have as many familiar things around her as possible to make the transition easier, though she seemed to be adapting to the changes very well thus far.

“You doing okay back there?”

She had been looking out the side window, watching the passing scenery with the avid curiosity that was so characteristic of his baby sister. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror and she smiled. “I’m okay.”

“Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

He made a quick mental inventory of his pantry and refrigerator and winced. He didn’t have milk. No bread, either. Or peanut butter or fresh fruit or veggies or anything else a growing child needed. Maybe he could call for pizza or something tonight, but that would hardly work for breakfast tomorrow.

Making an impulsive decision, he switched on his turn signal and drove into the parking lot of a shopping center. Noting that Caitlin was still behind him, he parked in front of the supermarket at one end of the center. Caitlin parked beside him.

“I’m really glad you’re helping me this evening,” he said as soon as they were both out of their cars. “Grocery shopping isn’t one of my talents, I’m afraid, and I’m out of everything. You can help me choose the things I’ll need to keep on hand for Isabelle.”

Still looking a bit confused about how she had become his assistant for the evening, Caitlin wrinkled her nose. “You’re looking at someone who eats take-out for nearly every meal. My usual purchases are coffee, bagels and ice cream.”

“I like ice cream,” Isabelle commented, catching the end of Caitlin’s comment as she climbed out of Nathan’s car with his assistance.

“And I like ice cream, but we have to buy some healthy food, too.” Nathan took her hand. “Surely between the three of us we can gather the stuff to put together some healthy meals.”

“I’ll help you,” Isabelle offered. “I went to the grocery store all the time with Aunt Barb.”

Nathan smiled at Caitlin over the child’s head. “Sounds like we’ve got a shopping expert here to help us out.”

Caitlin fell into step beside them. “I’m sure we can use all the help we can get.”

Rows of silver metal shopping carts waited just inside the supermarket doorway. Nathan lifted Isabelle into one of the plastic seats, then grasped the handle and guided the cart toward the first aisle. Caitlin stayed close by, saying little but seeming agreeable to help with this necessary task.

They looked like a family.

The thought occurred to Nathan abruptly as he and Caitlin strolled down the aisle side by side, pushing Isabelle in front of them. And then, for the first time, he wondered what he would say if someone they knew saw them looking so cozy. He had known when he brought Isabelle home with him that explanations would be inevitable, but it wasn’t going to be easy.

“Maybe I should have talked to my mother before coming out in public like this,” he murmured to Caitlin, suddenly feeling as if eyes were focused on them from every direction.

“Maybe you should have thought of that sooner,” she replied, setting two jars of applesauce in the cart.

“Maybe we’ll get out of here without seeing anyone we know.”

The look she gave him was skeptical—and rightly so. Honesty wasn’t that big, and he had lived here all his life. He rarely stepped out of his house without running into at least one person he knew.

He drew a deep breath and concentrated on the shopping, hoping he wouldn’t be spotted by anyone likely to call his mother before he had the chance to talk to her.

Other than his concern about potentially awkward encounters, he might have enjoyed the shopping trip. Isabelle was delightfully serious about helping with the selection process. Caitlin was obviously, if reluctantly, charmed by the little girl—who wouldn’t be?—and she revealed a softer side of herself, one that she usually kept hidden at the office.

“Do you like cereal, Isabelle?” she asked, studying a dizzying array of colorful boxes.

“Yes. Cereal’s good for breakfast.”

Nathan reached for a chocolate-flavored puff cereal, figuring every kid must like that flavor. After all, it was the one he usually bought for himself.

“Not that one, Nate,” Isabelle admonished him. “Too much sugar.”

Caitlin laughed. Nathan placed his hands on his hips and cocked his head at his sister. “What brand would you recommend?”

Isabelle placed a fingertip against her rosy lips, studying the offerings. “That one,” she finally decided, pointing to a box of bite-size wheat squares. “I like those.”

Moving down the aisle, they added boxes of flavored instant oatmeal and bags of dried fruit to the cart, both heartily approved by Isabelle. The next aisle held cookies. “I suppose we need to pass these?” Nathan suggested. “Too sugary, right?”

Isabelle frowned. “We need some sweets,” she said earnestly. “A little doesn’t hurt.”

He grinned. “Just point to what you like.”

Isabelle happily selected a bag of chocolate chip cookies and some pink-frosted animal crackers. He’d have bought out the store at that point, if she’d asked, just because she was so darned cute.

He’d better be careful about that, he thought, or she just might get the idea that he was a soft touch.

Moving on to the canned goods, Nathan stood back and watched while Caitlin and Isabelle debated the relative merits of chicken noodle soup or chicken and stars. He couldn’t seem to stop smiling; they made a lovely picture as they focused so intently on the display of red and white cans.

His smile faded when he heard his name spoken from behind him. “Nathan? Is that you?”

His eyes closed in a spasm of emotion. Of all the rotten luck….

He turned. “Hello, Aunt Betty.”

She wasn’t actually his aunt, not by blood, anyway. She had been married to his father’s uncle, which made her his great-aunt by marriage. But she had never let such distinctions deter her. Betty McCloud enjoyed nothing more than bossing around the younger members of her late husband’s extended family.

A very large woman—nearly six feet tall and well over two hundred pounds—the seventy-five-year-old former loan officer had a voice like a bullhorn. Several nearby shoppers glanced their way when she asked loudly, “So, what’s up? Doing some grocery shopping?”

Resisting the impulse to make a smart-aleck remark to that very obvious question, Nathan merely nodded.

Betty’s attention had already turned to his companions. “The law partner, right? Kate?”

“Caitlin,” Nathan corrected her.

Caitlin’s smile was only slightly strained. “Hello, Mrs. McCloud. It’s nice to see you again.”

Her hawk-like eyes zeroing in on Isabelle, the older woman asked, “This your little girl? Didn’t know you had one. She’s a cutie.”

Uncertain how to respond, Caitlin looked at Nathan. “I, uh…”

It might not have been the noblest choice Nathan could have made, but he decided to take the easy way out. Escape.

“You know, it was great to see you, Aunt Betty, but we really have to hurry. I’ll call you soon and explain everything, okay?”

“Explain what?” she asked, frowning at him.

He merely smiled and pushed the cart so quickly away that Isabelle’s fine hair ruffled in the resulting breeze. Her eyes big, she gazed up at him. “Who was that?” she asked in a stage whisper.

“That was my great-aunt Betty. Yours, too, I guess.”

“She’s loud.”

Nathan nodded. “I know.”

“She thinks I’m Miss Caitlin’s little girl.”

Nathan avoided Caitlin’s eyes. “I know. I’ll explain to her later.”

“But why…?”

“What kind of fruit juice do you like, Isabelle?” Caitlin asked quickly.

Isabelle seemed to debate for a moment whether to continue her line of questioning or allow herself to be distracted. But then she conceded and requested apple juice.

Staying well ahead of Betty, Nathan practically jogged down the rest of the aisles, tossing food items into the cart until it nearly overflowed. He kept his eyes focused on the shelves, operating on the theory that if he didn’t see anyone else he knew, they wouldn’t see him, either.

Caitlin helped him pile his purchases on the conveyor belt at the cashier’s station. He paid the sizable bill with a bank debit card, then pushed the cart full of now-bagged groceries toward the parking lot. A golfing buddy hailed him just outside the door; Nathan waved and kept moving, successfully avoiding conversation.

“You have to talk to your mother,” Caitlin said as they reached their cars. “There’s no way you can keep this quiet for long.”

“I know.” He glanced into the back of his car, which was filled with his bags and Isabelle’s. “Think we can put some of these bags in your car? I’m not sure everything’s going to fit in mine.”

Caitlin hesitated a moment before opening the trunk of her Saturn. He wondered if she had considered parting from him here rather than accompanying him home. “If you have other plans for the evening, I’m sure Isabelle and I can manage by ourselves…..”

She sighed and reached for a bag of groceries. “No, I don’t have other plans. I’m happy to give you a hand this evening. We are partners, after all.”

Partners. Maybe she was trying to downplay the cozily intimate nature of their shopping expedition by reminding him of their business relationship. He couldn’t think of any other reason for her to bring it up. But he merely nodded, thanked her and helped her transfer the groceries to her car. He should probably feel at least a little guilty about shamelessly using her this way, but he needed her help too badly.