Читать книгу A Mother's Claim - Janice Kay Johnson - Страница 12
ОглавлениеTHE HOSTILITIES HAD blown up so quickly Dana hadn’t had a chance to ask whether Gabriel would go straight home after school or to Mr. Gregor’s business. Or whether, knowing she would be here, they’d arranged for him to hide out at a friend’s.
Nolan Gregor had said, “I’m not that petty,” but as she paced her room at the inn, her stomach still ached from his vicious reminder that her interests and Craig’s were not the same. It was painfully true that they weren’t a family anymore. He had backed off enough to allow her to make this trip alone, but Gabriel was his only son. He might insist on custody.
And what if Gabriel would be best off with him? He was most attached now to a man he saw as a father. If the woman who had stolen him really had been mentally ill, he might never have had a relationship with her that he could depend on. And, face it, however desperate Dana was to have her son, she knew she didn’t have the faintest idea what a preteen boy needed, how he thought and felt. Look how poorly they’d communicated on the phone!
Yes, she would fight tooth and nail—she’d meant that—but unless she was willing to alienate her son, she needed Nolan Gregor’s cooperation. There had to be a way to use his love for Gabriel to help her. First and foremost, they both wanted Gabriel happy.
But honesty compelled her to admit that her urgent need to hold her son again, to have him turning to her with love and trust, drove her so powerfully that separating that need from what was best for Gabriel would be difficult. She had no doubt the same was true for Nolan. And circumstances made it easier for him to convince himself that what he wanted was also what Gabriel wanted.
Christian.
She might have to force herself to use that name at first, but she would never, could never, think of her son as Christian. Her little boy was Gabriel, the name she’d loved, the name she’d chosen.
Nerves jumping, Dana checked her watch. Elementary school students were released at three thirty, according to the inn’s front-desk clerk. It was now three forty. She had driven by the school after her confrontation with Nolan Gregor. It was barely half a mile away, so she thought Gabriel would walk or ride a bike rather than take a bus. How long would it take him? Would he come straight here, or was he so reluctant to meet her he’d dawdle as long as he could?
She pressed a hand to her stomach, churning enough that she was grateful she hadn’t eaten lunch.
How petty would Nolan Gregor be?
Picturing the man who went with the deep voice didn’t do anything to calm her. His sheer size had intimidated her. At five foot ten, she was tall for a woman. Her father and brother were well over six feet; Craig was, too. But they all had long, lanky builds. In contrast, Nolan Gregor’s shoulders would fill a doorway. His chest was broad, his legs powerful. She didn’t make the mistake of thinking he’d be lumbering and slow, like a football linebacker. In fact, instinct insisted she keep distance between them to give herself time to react, because she somehow knew if he did move, he’d be lightning fast. Remembering his mention of a military career, she wondered exactly what he’d done to develop that kind of muscle.
It didn’t help that his face was...well, not handsome, exactly, but appealing, with prominent bones and a square jaw. Vivid blue eyes were a surprise considering his shaggy dark hair and dark stubble. She’d disconcerted herself by noticing his mouth and feeling a flicker of warmth she hardly recognized.
No, no, no. The man mattered only because he was her adversary at the very least. She couldn’t afford to soften toward him in any way at all.
She closed her eyes, dismissing him as she refocused on what mattered: Gabriel. A few deep breaths almost calmed her. It would take her five minutes to lock her room and make her way to the windsurfing shop next door.
She left her handbag this time, tucking her key in her pocket. She walked with a deliberate speed, forcing herself to exchange a pleasant smile with a couple in the elevator and then the desk clerk. Out the door, turn left and follow the path across the lawn.
Bright sails bloomed on the broad Columbia River. It took her a moment to see that while some were on boats, most sent single figures in wet suits skimming the choppy water on boards.
More deep breaths, and Dana resumed her walk. When she saw the bike leaning against the side of the driftwood-gray clapboard building, her heart leaped, the beats so light and fast she imagined herself flying across the water.
He’s here.
Suddenly shaking, she literally ached, the hunger to feel her baby in her arms almost unbearable.
She wasn’t thirty feet from the door. It seemed impossible, unreal, that this was happening, that he was so close. Alive. Good at math, athletic. Every dream that had sustained her for all these years was about to come true.
What she had somehow never imagined was what would happen after that magical moment when she first set eyes on him, wrapped him in her arms. In her dreams, he always said, “Mom?” in a voice of wonder. Instead, during their call he’d been angry, shouting, “I have a mom!” In her fantasies, he never refused to believe the woman he’d called Mother had stolen him from his real mother.
Her mood shifting abruptly, she almost laughed. She had her miracle, and she was standing out here, terrified and despairing in advance?
So it wouldn’t be as easy as she’d imagined. Of course it wouldn’t. He wasn’t the baby she remembered; he didn’t remember her at all. He was a whole person, shaped by strangers, including a mentally ill woman who’d claimed to be his mother. She ought to be grateful to Nolan, who had apparently given him stability and a home.
Ultimately, however hostile he was now, he would have to work with her. She’d give him time, and he would recognize how little choice he had.
Dana started forward again, feeling buoyed, lighthearted, as bright as all those sails.
He’s here.
* * *
“WHY DO I have to see her?” Christian whined, even though he knew the answer. Because this woman was his actual, real mother.
Even thinking that made him feel disloyal.
Uncle Nolan didn’t bother to answer. “Brace yourself,” he said instead. “She’ll be here any second.”
Uncle Nolan said she’d come by earlier and that she looked like Christian, which freaked him out. It was like if he couldn’t see any resemblance, he didn’t have to believe any of this was true.
The bell on the door tinkled, and his fingers bit into his palms.
Uncle Nolan’s gaze went past Christian, but his expression didn’t change. He had on what Christian thought of as his soldier face, emotionless, hard to read.
“Ms. Stewart,” Uncle Nolan said, not exactly politely but not rudely, either.
“Mr. Gregor.” The woman’s voice was husky, like the women on the radio.
Shoulders stiff, Christian kept his back to her.
“Gabe—Christian,” the woman said more quietly. “Please, let me see you.”
Uncle Nolan’s look said, Do it.
Taking a deep breath, Christian turned around. Seeing her felt like the shock he got sometimes touching the metal door of the freezer case in the grocery store. She did look like him, or like his mom should look. He’d never wondered why he didn’t look anything like Mom, because he’d thought he must look like his father. But now—
He breathed too fast, in the grip of a panicky sense of guilt. Mom wasn’t here to tell anyone what really happened! Maybe she’d rescued him. Maybe he hadn’t been safe with his real parents. Just because this total, complete stranger said he’d been stolen—
“You’re so tall,” she whispered. Until now she hadn’t even seemed to breathe, only stared with clear gray eyes, her lips slightly parted.
Nobody had ever looked at him like this. He squirmed.
Uncle Nolan’s hand closed on his shoulder. One squeeze, and Christian settled.
“He’s already in a size-nine shoe,” Uncle Nolan said. “I’ve been thinking he won’t stop growing until he’s my height or taller.”
“I—” Her breath sounded funny. “My father is six foot three, and my ex-husband—your father—” she added, not taking her eyes from Christian, “is about the same. He played guard for the Kansas Jayhawks—that’s the University of Kansas.”
She was trying to outdo his real family. No way he was going to let her.
“So?” He shrugged. “Uncle Nolan played football for Cal Berkeley. He even got drafted by the Cowboys, only he went in the army instead.”
Her gaze strayed to his uncle. “Berkeley, huh?” A tiny smile might have been teasing. “Doesn’t seem to go with a military career.”
Uncle Nolan said calmly, “If you’ve read Thucydides, you know that ‘the society that separates its scholars from its warriors will have its thinking done by cowards and its fighting by fools.’ I subscribe to that belief.”
He was always quoting from Thucydides, an old Greek guy.
“A historian,” the woman murmured. Her eyes went back to Christian. “Could we sit down somewhere? Or go for a walk together?”
The scared feeling expanded in his chest. He looked at Uncle Nolan, who nodded. Christian saw Ms. Stewart’s eyes narrow a little, but she didn’t say anything.
“I guess a walk.” He didn’t want to be, like, face-to-face with her.
Again he felt the reassuring weight of his uncle’s big hand on his shoulder as he passed. He was trailing her to the front of the store when Uncle Nolan called, “Wait.”
They both turned. Uncle Nolan wadded up Christian’s hooded sweatshirt and tossed it.
“It’s cold out there.”
He shrugged into it, thinking if he pulled up the hood, she wouldn’t be able to see his face.
“It looks like there’s a trail along the river,” she said.
“Yeah.”
They walked in silence for a minute. He was more shambling; he really hoped none of his friends saw him. So far, nobody in town but him and Uncle Nolan knew about all this. Well, except for Dr. Santos, their family doctor, and whatever police officer had put Christian’s DNA online.
He felt a spurt of anger because Uncle Nolan had done it even though he knew Christian didn’t want him to.
“Why don’t I tell you about your father and me?” Ms. Stewart suggested. “You have two half sisters, too. And grandparents on both sides, a couple of aunts and uncles as well as—” she seemed to have to count “—six first cousins.”
Christian ignored the flash of surprise and...interest. Were any of the cousins boys close to his age?
“I had a grandma and grandpa,” he said sullenly. “And I have Uncle Nolan.”
“I know you did. Do. Still. More family never hurts.” She paused, as if waiting for him to comment. When he didn’t, she went on to tell him about growing up in Colorado Springs, where her father had been a teacher and then principal of the high school. “A couple of years ago, he became superintendent of the whole district.” Her mother had stayed home when Ms. Stewart and her brother were little kids, then had gone back to work at a plant nursery. “Mom loves to garden,” she said softly. “I think she might like to live somewhere without such a challenging climate, but the mountains are so beautiful they make up for a lot.”
Her brother liked the mountains so much he owned his own business providing guides for climbers. “Not that different from what your uncle Nolan does,” she added.
Ms. Stewart did some kind of social work with women who were having a hard time making it on their own. Kind of like Mom, he couldn’t help thinking. Except Mom had been able to come home for help. She didn’t need anyone but family.
“Your father is a businessman. He has an MBA—a master’s degree in business administration—from Harvard. He was always good with numbers, and he seems to have a gift for guessing what people will do before they do it. He has remarried and has two daughters, so you have half sisters.”
She went on talking about his father’s family—his parents and a sister who was married to a guy on the Olympic luge team, that little sled that left you hanging out there when you hurtled down the icy curves. Christian remembered watching the Sochi Games with Uncle Nolan, who said those guys had to be nuts.
“Of course, he’s not a blood relative, but you have plenty of talented athletes in your family tree.”
He’d always thought he was like Uncle Nolan, who could do any sport and make it look easy. I am, he told himself now, fiercely. He didn’t even know these other people.
“Will you...tell me more about yourself?” she asked hesitantly.
She had to be kidding. What was he supposed to say?
“I know you’re in sixth grade.” She seemed to be trying to get him started. “Are you excited about starting middle school in the fall?”
He hunched deeper in his sweatshirt. “I guess.”
“And what about high school? Do you plan to play any sports?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled.
“Do you have any hobbies? Collecting rocks or building a go-kart or learning to work on car engines or...” Sounded like she was running out of ideas.
Building a go-kart? Really?
Christian stopped and looked out at the river. Man, he wanted to be out there on a board instead of standing here with this woman who thought he should be her little boy when he wasn’t.
“I windsurf. And I give lessons for Uncle Nolan.”
“That’s pretty amazing at your age.” If she’d had pom-poms, she’d probably have waved them.
“Can we go back now?” he asked.
Without looking at her, he couldn’t tell whether the long silence meant she was surprised, mad or hurt, but he didn’t care. It was only because Uncle Nolan would be disappointed in him that he didn’t leave her and run back to the shop.
“All right,” she said at last.
They were halfway back when she asked, “Do you have any questions for me?”
As if a dam had broken, all of his confusion and fears rushed out, like a river current when the water was running high. He lifted his eyes to hers. “Do you think I’m going to go live with you?”
The wind had whipped color into her pale face, but her expression made him remember Uncle Nolan’s when he’d first seen all the blood that day.
“Yes,” she said.
“Because I’m not! I want to stay here, with Uncle Nolan. And you can’t make me go!”
He ran, sobbing, not letting himself look back.
* * *
THE AGONY WAS so great it was all she could do not to crumple to the paved path.
Dana stood stricken, watching Gabriel run from her. No, not Gabriel—Christian. The boy who was a stranger. Who loved his uncle and wanted to hate her.
No, she thought drearily, not wanted. Did. And could she really blame him? She’d turned everything he had believed about his family on end. That had to be damaging his sense of self.
His mother was no longer his mother; his uncle wasn’t his uncle. He wasn’t even really Christian Gregor.
Dana spotted a bench twenty feet ahead. She made it that far, grateful to sink down and bend forward, squeezing her arms around herself for warmth and protection. Thank goodness no one else was approaching. She doubted she was capable of assuming a facade.
She was bewildered, with no idea what to do. Was it even possible to get through to him? Did she batter her head against a brick wall? Or hang around in the hopes that she had aroused enough curiosity he’d come to her?
Her earlier determination and even optimism had evaporated. For the moment, Nolan Gregor had won. Adversary? More like enemy.
She hurt so much right now she wasn’t sure she was better off than she’d been before Commander Knapp’s call.
No, that wasn’t true—at least she’d seen Gabriel with her own eyes. She knew her baby was alive, safe, loved. Couldn’t that be enough? For the first time, she let herself wonder whether planning to tear him away from the life he knew was right. Or would it be an entirely selfish act?
Maybe, if she let him stay, he’d be okay with occasional visits and phone calls. If Nolan would send pictures, copies of report cards—
The stab of pain was so acute Dana curled forward until her head almost touched her knees.
Was seeing something you wanted so desperately but couldn’t have better than doing without?
How awful would those visits be? The awkward phone calls he participated in because he wasn’t given a choice? It could only get worse when the hormones kicked in. And what if she gave in but Craig didn’t? Would that mean he loved their son more than she did? Or that his selfishness was greater than hers? Oh, she could imagine that so easily. Craig and his parents would feel the need to see his lineage carried on through a son. She had read between the lines when he’d let her know his first daughter was born. The disappointment had been there, because he didn’t have the son to replace his firstborn.
Still curled over, she asked herself whether she was any better.
Crushing disappointment and hurt had her ready to drive straight to Portland and get on an airplane, go home where she could come to terms with the hard truth—she would never have her son back.
* * *
WHEN CHRISTIAN BURST through the door, face wet with tears, Nolan excused himself to the couple who’d come in thinking about buying their own equipment instead of continuing to rent.
He followed his nephew into the office. “What happened?”
Christian swiped his face with his forearm. “She said I’d have to live with her and I told her I wouldn’t.”
Anger set in Nolan’s chest, like fresh concrete hardening. “You have to go live with her. That’s what she said?”
Skin blotchy, nose running, eyes puffy and still wet, Christian didn’t look any better than he had at Marlee’s funeral. “I asked, and she said yes!”
“She wanted you to pack up and go with her right away.”
His face contorted. “She just said yes! But you said I didn’t have to.”
If he had, Nolan was beginning to think he’d made a promise he might not be able to keep. “I said I’d fight for you.”
Christian just snuffled.
Nolan stepped into the doorway so he could see his customers. The man caught his eye and waved reassuringly. “We’re good on our own for a while,” he called, obviously sympathetic.
Nolan nodded his thanks and half sat on his desk, gazing down at the boy, who looked smaller and younger than he had in a long while.
“Did you talk at all?”
Christian lifted his head in outrage. “I told you!”
“I meant before.”
“Oh.” He pulled the hem of his T-shirt from beneath the hoodie and blew his nose on it, which made Nolan wince. “She talked. She told me about, you know, her parents and her brother and...and the guy who is supposed to be my father and all his family. Like I care,” he said sulkily.
“It is kind of interesting, don’t you think?” Nolan asked. “I used to wonder a lot about your dad. What he looked like, what qualities he passed on to you.”
“Like?”
“You’re proving to be pretty gifted at math. I can handle the books for the business, but that was never a strength of mine, and I seem to remember your m—” he cleared his throat “—Marlee flunking freshman algebra.”
“She did?”
“Oh, yeah.” He might have smiled if there hadn’t been so many painful losses since that long-ago day. “Not sure if she stunk at it or just refused to do the work.”
“She dropped out, didn’t she?”
Christian knew the answer, but what he really wanted was the reassuring repetition of family history—good, bad, courageous, silly. “To my parents’ disappointment, she did.” Nolan heard himself say my parents instead of Grandma and Grandpa and hoped Christian hadn’t noticed. “They kept thinking once she was stabilized on medications, she’d go back to school or get her GED, but it never happened.”
They talked some more, with Christian gradually coming down from the emotional storm and Nolan wondering what had happened to Dana. He’d have expected her to follow Christian back here, if only to give Nolan a piece of her mind.
He kept seeing her face, luminous with hope one minute, stark white with pain the next. In turn fierce, despairing, wounded and resolute. If she’d gone back to her room at the inn, did she have anyone she could call? She hadn’t worn a ring, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t living with a guy or at least seeing one. It sounded as if she had parents, although that was no guarantee she could talk to them. Nolan knew he’d been lucky that way. Dana would have girlfriends, surely.
Except she’d seemed so alone. If a man in her life had let her make this trip on her own, he should be shot. Family should be here for her, too. They seemed to be MIA, which enraged Nolan when he should have been glad she was vulnerable to a knockout punch. He didn’t like these mixed feelings. His first and only loyalty was to Christian. How stupid was it to sympathize with the woman who wanted to take away the boy he loved?
He was frowning at a poster on the wall when Christian said, “Can I go home?”
Nolan ran his palm over his jaw as he glanced at the clock. He’d be closing in an hour.
“Yeah,” he decided, “that’s okay. But call me when you get there, lock the door and don’t answer if anyone rings the bell. Okay?”
The rolled eyes made him smile.
“You always say that.”
Nolan scooped him into a hard hug. “I won’t be long.”
After locking up an hour later, he jogged to his SUV. He unlocked and opened the door but didn’t get in. Shit. What kind of idiot was he, to worry about his adversary? But, damn it, that was what he was doing, and he couldn’t go home without finding out how devastated she was or how determined to fight with all the resources she could summon.
Which, he reminded himself, were substantial. Oregon state social services didn’t even know about the situation, but Dana could change that with a single phone call. Once she filed for custody, law enforcement might get involved to ensure Nolan didn’t flee with her son. Or someone might decree that until custody was determined, Christian should be placed in foster care.
Find out, he told himself, then look for a good lawyer.
In the lobby of the inn, he tried to appear casual when he approached the desk clerk, an occasional customer.
“Hey, can you tell me what room Dana Stewart is in? I forgot to ask her.”
Only twenty-five or so, Dylan Adams said, “Third floor, but let me check.” He glanced at his computer. “Three-fifteen.”
“Thanks.” Nolan lifted a hand and headed for the stairs before the kid could ask what he wanted from Dana or remember he wasn’t supposed to give out room numbers.
But he didn’t hear a peep and she sure didn’t open the door. She either wasn’t there or was disinclined to talk to anyone, especially him. Uneasy, he went back down.
“Did you see her going out?” he asked Dylan.
“No, sir.”
If she’d checked out, the computer would have told Dylan. All Nolan could do was thank him and jog back across the lawn to the smaller parking lot beside his own business.
What if she’d gone to his house to talk to Christian again? he asked himself during the short drive. But Christian knew better than to defy a direct order from Nolan and let anyone in.
She’d probably gone out for something to eat. Keeping track of guests was not Dylan’s primary function. He must go in the back or use the john once in a while.
Nolan wished he could convince himself that was what she’d done but had trouble believing it. Dana had been so hopeful. The note in her voice when she’d asked Christian to turn around so she could see his face for the first time in eleven years had gotten to Nolan.
He had a really bad feeling she was crying her eyes out back in that hotel room.
He shook his head. Face it: everyone involved could not come out of this happy. And if he had to choose—she’d be the one who ended up disappointed.
Or was that crushed? Destroyed?
Nolan groaned. A minute later, he pulled into his own driveway and turned off the engine but didn’t get out. He sat there for a long time, his guts tied in a knot, his chest tight.
