Читать книгу A Baby by Christmas - Linda Warren, Linda Warren - Страница 9

JAKE HAD TROUBLE SLEEPING. He kept seeing Elise’s face, the hurt in her eyes…a hurt he had put there. Not intentionally, but still, he was the cause of her pain. He sat up and slipped on his jeans, grabbed a T-shirt and shoes and headed for the door. Wags followed. Jake went straight to his workshop, which was off the garage. Wags settled in his spot by the door, watching Jake.

The smell of fresh-shaved wood clung to the air. As a hobby, Jake did woodwork and it was something he loved. He flipped on the light and strolled over to a baby’s cradle that occupied the middle of the large room. Elise had seen it in a magazine and he was planning to surprise her with it when she became pregnant. He drew in a deep breath and pulled up a chair, staring at the cradle. Wags trotted over and barked.

“I know, boy,” Jake said. “We’ll go to the house in a minute.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the cradle.

It consisted of round spindles connected to a half-circular base at each end. The crib swung from a sturdy stand. He had spent many hours doing the intricate pattern of flowers on the circular base and the stand. The spindles were rounded in the middle and smaller on each end. Mrs. Myers, a friend of his who sewed, was making the mattress and lining out of some of the finest cotton ever grown and he’d ordered lace from Italy as a finishing touch. The picture in the magazine was white, but Elise had said if the baby was a boy she wouldn’t want white, so Jake was waiting to paint or stain the crib. Now he didn’t have to worry. It would never be finished.

He pushed the cradle and it swung gently back and forth as “Rock-a-Bye, Baby” played. He’d had a hell of a time figuring out how to get the tune to play when the cradle rocked, but a visit to the electronics store solved his problem. It worked on the same principle as a music box. Now it was all for nothing.

Wags barked several times at the sound and Jake nodded his head. Glancing up, he saw the new wood stacked against the wall. He was starting on a baby bed next, to match the crib. A tremor of despair ran through him. For the first time he realized how much he wanted a baby…how much he’d planned for it, too. Letting go of that hope wasn’t easy for him, either.

But now he had Ben. Tomorrow he’d see his son for the first time and that filled him with new hope. It didn’t diminish the feelings he had for his and Elise’s baby; it just made the whole situation difficult.

What would he do if Elise was pregnant? He ran his hands over his face. He’d deal with that if it happened.

“Jake, what are you doing working so late?”

Jake turned to Aunt Vin standing in the doorway.

“It’s almost eleven,” she added, walking farther into the room. “I just got in from playing bingo and… Oh, oh, the cradle is beautiful.”

“Yes,” Jake said in a low voice.

Aunt Vin watched him for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

Jake clasped his hands together. “Ms. Woods called. I’m…I’m Ben’s father.”

“Oh, and from your expression I’m guessing the fancy lady isn’t taking this well.”

“No,” Jake admitted, seeing no reason to lie.

Aunt Vin clicked her tongue. “She wants a baby and God just gave her a ready-made one. What’s the difference? They all need love.”

Jake pushed to his feet and put his arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, and I’m going to give my son all the love I have.”

“So you’re raising Ben alone?”

“It looks that way.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

“Thanks, Aunt Vin.”

They slowly made their way to the house, Wags running ahead. “I guess we need to get a room ready,” she remarked.

“Let’s wait for a few days. I want to meet Ben first.”

“Okay.” Aunt Vin paused. “She’s not even going to meet Ben?”

“No.”

Aunt Vin shook her head and went to her room.

THE NEXT MORNING JAKE WAS UP early and drove into Waco to meet Ms. Woods. He found the building without any problem. She was in an office that consisted of a small space cluttered with filing cabinets and a desk.

She rose to her feet. “Good morning, Mr. McCain,” she said as she shook his hand. “Have a seat.”

Jake sat in a straight chair by her desk.

Ms. Woods clasped her hands across a large folder. “Mrs. McCain not with you?”

“No,” Jake replied, and to avoid answering uncomfortable questions he asked, “When can I see my son?”

Ms. Woods looked as if she was going to press the issue, but then said, “There are a few things we have to discuss first.”

“Like what?”

“Ben. I want you to be fully aware of his situation.”

He heard that note in her voice again and Jake knew something was wrong. “What situation?’ he asked carefully.

She opened the folder. “Ben has special problems.”

Jake’s chest tightened. “Problems?”

“As before, the only way I know how to do this is just tell you.”

“I wish you would.”

“Ben was a twenty-seven-week baby—a preemie—and he wasn’t breathing when he was born. The doctors worked with Ben and it took nine minutes before he could breathe on his own. He was then flown to Memorial Hermann hospital in Houston. He was basically in a comatose state and the doctors didn’t expect him to live. Sherry was supposed to make the trip to Houston a couple of days later, but she never showed up. That’s when the hospital called Children’s Protective Services. They had no one to contact if the baby died. We were able to locate Sherry’s mother and she immediately came to Houston. She didn’t even know Sherry had given birth.” She paused. “They fed him from an IV because he had no sucking reflex and he was getting oxygen to help him breathe. When Mrs. Carr arrived she was devastated at the sight of Ben, but she was a very religious person and wouldn’t leave Ben or give up on him. On the third day, Ben’s sucking reflex began. It was as close to a miracle as I’ve ever seen, but Ben had a long way to go. The doctors did test after test and ruled out several disorders, including cerebral palsy. Finally Ben’s diagnosis was developmental delay and his prognosis wasn’t good.”

“Developmental delay?”

“Yes. Ben does everything much slower than other children.”

The pain in Jake’s chest became so tight that it was unbearable.

“Mrs. Carr was Ben’s lifeline and she was determined that Ben would be a normal little boy. She lived in Bryan but she relocated to Houston so Ben could be near the hospital and doctors. At first Ben didn’t have the muscle tone to accomplish simple tasks. Mrs. Carr, under a developmental pediatrician’s guidance, began an exercise program for Ben. She massaged his arms and legs, even the inside of his mouth, to stimulate him. When she took Ben home, she continued the exercises. They took from three to four hours and she did them at least twice a day, but it was worth it. This little boy—who was supposed to be a vegetable if he lived at all—was able to roll over at ten months. At fifteen months he crawled and he took his first steps six months ago. Mrs. Carr was working on his speech and he was starting to say words and whole sentences, then…”

Ms. Wood stopped. “Irene was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and she died quickly. She was so busy caring for Ben that she didn’t take care of herself. She was devoted to Ben, I suspect mainly because she’d had such a disaster with her daughter.” She stopped again. “When you met Sherry at that hotel, she was supposed to be clean and working but, as you found, that wasn’t true. She also lied to you about birth control. Irene said Sherry was never able to take the pill and Irene worried about pregnancy all the time because Sherry’s boyfriend was a drug dealer. He was in prison when you met her. CPS hasn’t been involved in Ben’s case since Mrs. Carr was granted custody, but we’ve checked on him from time to time. When Mrs. Carr became ill, she contacted us. That’s the reason I’m here today.”

Jake listened to all of this in a state of shock, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. His throat burned with an ache he couldn’t assuage. His son had needed him and he hadn’t been there.

“Mr. McCain, are you okay?” Ms. Woods asked with concern.

“Yes,” he answered with difficulty. “Sherry…where is she now?”

“As I told you earlier, we don’t know. When Ben was about a month old, her boyfriend, Rusty, was released from prison. Mrs. Carr was in Houston with Ben and Sherry was in their Bryan home. The boyfriend went there and Sherry and Irene argued. Irene didn’t want him in her house and she was trying to get Sherry to return to Houston and Ben. Sherry came one more time to see him, then she left with Rusty. Two months later Irene got a phone call from the police. Rusty shot a woman in El Paso when a drug deal went bad. The Texas Rangers became involved and said they were in Mexico. Irene got several phone calls from various border towns, but they still haven’t been located.”

Jake frowned. “She just left with her boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“How could she abandon her own son?”

“Mr. McCain, Sherry has had lots of problems since her father was killed in a freak accident when she was sixteen. He was the center of her world and she never recovered from it. She got in with a bad crowd, got into drugs. From what I understand, Mrs. Carr did everything she could to help her daughter, but Sherry was bent on a course of self-destruction.” She arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure you noticed some of this when you met her.”

“Yes,” he murmured. He recognized early that Sherry had problems he didn’t want to get involved with. He remembered her talking constantly about her father and how he understood her and her mother didn’t. But that didn’t explain how she could just leave Ben.

Jake stood on shaky legs. “I want to see my son.”

She was taken aback. “I’m not through, Mr. McCain.”

“There’s more?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yes. Ben has regressed since Mrs. Carr’s death. He’s stopped speaking, he falls often and he rarely smiles. So we have to handle this very carefully.”

“Please, I want to see my son,” he repeated.

“You will, I promise, but I wish you would listen to everything I have to say.”

“What else could there possibly be?” He was losing patience and could feel his tension building.

“You haven’t asked where Ben is.”

“I assume he’s in a foster home somewhere,” he replied.

“All the more reason for me to take responsibility for him.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Why?”

“Mrs. Carr’s sister and her husband moved in when she became so ill. She wanted someone there for Ben.”

Thank God. At least Ben was with family. “I’m glad,” he said simply.

Ms. Woods picked up a pencil, then glanced directly at him. “Our office got a call this morning from an attorney. The Fosters have decided they want to adopt Ben and they’re filing for custody.”

“What!” His eyes burned into her.

“They’re very fond of Ben.”

“He’s my son,” Jake stated as if he needed to remind her of that.

“Yes, but Ben is comfortable with Peggy and Carl. He knows them and they know how to take care of him.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed. “Are you saying I might not get my son?”

“As I told you, a judge will make that decision, but I want you to be aware of this new development.”

He gulped in a breath at the injustice of it all and then anger quickly overtook him. It seemed as if they were conspiring to keep him from Ben, and he wasn’t letting that happen. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned in close to Ms. Woods’s face. “You came looking for me, lady, and you found me. I’m Ben’s father and I want to see him…now.”

“I have every intention of taking you to Ben,” she said crisply.

Jake straightened. “Good. Let’s go.”

Ms. Woods let out a long sigh. “I have to make arrangements with the Fosters. We can’t barge in on them.”

“Okay, make the arrangement.” He tried to remain calm.

“Mrs. Carr lived in Houston, as I told you, and that’s a four-hour drive. We may not be able to do it until tomorrow.”

Jake glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back at one. That’ll give you enough time to inform the Fosters that I’m coming.” He turned toward the door.

“Mr. McCain, I can’t—”

“One o’clock, Ms. Woods,” he said, and closed the door.

ELISE WAS HAVING A BAD morning. Her eyes were red and puffy and makeup hadn’t helped. She should have been at the university by now, but she couldn’t seem to pull herself together. Jake was gone and he wasn’t coming back; she couldn’t get past that and the hateful things he’d said.

She went into the closet to get her gray suit jacket and saw Jake’s clothes…a couple of pairs of jeans and a few shirts. He also had some socks and underwear in a drawer. In six months of marriage, that was all Jake had brought to her house. It was as if he’d been visiting her, and in a way she supposed he was. Now that visit was over. A shiver ran through her as she moved to the bedroom for her briefcase and purse. Picking up her purse she saw the magazines by the nightstand…magazines with articles on conception. She dropped her purse and gathered an armful and headed for the garage. She wouldn’t be needing them anymore. Jake was gone and so was her dream of a baby. She made three trips to dump the magazines in the garbage.

With the last few in her hands, she straightened to see Derek’s picture on the nightstand. Suddenly Jake’s words echoed through her head. “How do you think it makes me feel to make love to you with his picture on your nightstand? You should’ve had enough consideration for my feelings to remove it. You’ve never considered my feelings or much of anything else where I’m concerned.”

Oh my God. The magazines dropped to the floor at her feet as a fog lifted from her mind and she could see her insensitive actions clearly. Oh my God. Her legs trembled and she sank onto the bed. What had she done? Up until this very moment, she had never seen anything wrong with having Derek’s picture in their bedroom. And it was very wrong. She could see that now. Why couldn’t she before? Maybe she was more like her mother and Judith than she’d ever imagined, because the insensitivity of her own behavior bordered on cruelty. Yet Jake had never said a word until yesterday. Why not? He wanted a child as much as she did; that was the only reason that made sense. And now he had a child—a little boy named Ben. She wondered if Jake had seen his son. What was Ben like?

Tears welled up but she refused to cry. She couldn’t. She had a class to teach and she had to get moving, although her body wasn’t cooperating. All she could see was Jake’s face, and she knew she had to apologize. But how could she explain the mental fog she’d been in? By being honest. Years of grieving had clouded her thinking. Jake’s words had brought her to her senses.

She stood and turned Derek’s picture facedown. He was dead. She had to accept that, as Jake had said, and she had to get on with her life…a life without Jake…or a baby. She picked up her purse and walked toward the door, trying not to think about Jake. But she knew he’d be in her every thought.

JAKE THOUGHT THE SITUATION OVER. He now knew what Ms. Woods had been hiding—Ben was not a normal little boy. His mind reeled from the revelation and he tried to stay focused on the main objective. The Fosters wanted to adopt his son—a son who had problems, severe problems. As easy as that would make his life, he couldn’t even consider the possibility. Ben was his flesh and blood, and even though he’d need special attention, Jake would do everything he could to be the boy’s father. Because he was.

He decided he needed a lawyer. If he had to fight for custody of Ben, he’d need a good one. He drove straight to Beau’s office. Beau specialized in family law and Jake knew his brother could help him, give him some advice. He’d never been to Beau’s office, since Beau always visited him at the farm. They met for dinner every now and then, but other than that, they had very little contact. Jake knew that was his fault. He couldn’t face seeing his mother.

He located Beau’s office on the fourth floor of a tall glass structure. A young woman at the reception desk smiled at him as he entered.

“I’d like to see Beau McCain, please,” he said.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked politely.

“No.”

She flipped through a book. “He has an opening on Friday at two.”

Jake frowned. “I need to see him now.”

“He’s with someone and—”

Her words faded away as Jake headed down the hall to find Beau.

“Come back here.” The young woman ran after him, but Jake didn’t stop. He heard Beau’s voice, tapped on the door and went in.

As he did, his stomach caved in with such force that it cut off his breathing. His mother was there talking to Beau. He hadn’t seen her in twenty-eight years—not since the day she’d left the farm and him behind. He’d made a point of not seeing her, of not having anything to do with her, and he’d succeeded until today.

Just like that, his childhood flashed through his mind, his mother reading to him, singing to him, kissing his forehead, patiently helping him with homework, and from out of nowhere the taste of her cinnamon rolls made his mouth water. Then just as quickly those good feelings slammed into a wall of pure pain—the pain of her betrayal—and that was all he felt. All he could remember.

“Mr. McCain, I tried to stop him.” Numbly the receptionist’s voice penetrated his mind.

“It’s okay, Cindy,” Beau said as he came around his desk. “I’ll take care of this.”

Jake wanted to turn and leave, but his feet wouldn’t move. When he was younger, he used to dream of things he’d say to his mother if he ever saw her again, but those words were locked away so deep, under layers of heartache and resentment, that he couldn’t dredge them up.

Almost in slow motion he watched his mother get up from the chair and walk toward him. The pain in his chest intensified and he was beyond thinking. Don’t speak to me, screamed through his head.

But her words came as soft and sweet as he remembered. “I was just leaving. It’s good to see you, Jake.” She stared at him a moment before walking out the door.

She didn’t look any older than she had years ago, Jake thought inanely, except for the gray in her hair.

Beau closed the door and glared at Jake. “Would it have killed you to say hello?”

Jake was still having a hard time finding his voice.

“When are you going to let go of the past?” Beau snapped.

Air swished back into Jake’s lungs. “Some things can’t be forgiven.”

“Like what?”

“Like a mother leaving a ten-year-old boy.”

Beau shook his head. “You have a convenient memory, Jake. You refused to go with us. Remember?”

He remembered it vividly. His mother begging and pleading with him, but his father had already told him what she’d done. She was leaving him for Andrew Wellman. “I remember a lot of things,” he said harshly.

“Do you remember Mom had custody and could have forced you to go, but she didn’t? She knew how much you loved the old man and how loyal you were to him. In the end, she couldn’t hurt you anymore. She let you stay and I don’t think she’s ever forgiven herself for that.”

Jake had had all he could take. “She chose to leave. I remember that. Or is your memory convenient, too?”

Beau threw up his hands. “What do you want, Jake? I’m tired of talking to a stone wall.”

Ben—he was here about Ben. For a paralyzing moment he’d forgotten that. Now he wasn’t sure if he wanted Beau to help him or not. Too much tension existed between them, and he needed someone willing to fight for him. Was Beau that person?

“Since you’ve never been to my office before it must be important,” Beau said, moving back to his desk.

“Yes, it is,” Jake admitted. “But I’m having second thoughts now.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s awkward.”

“I don’t feel awkward. Do you?”

Jake didn’t answer as he took the seat his mother had vacated. Awkwardness or tension didn’t matter. What mattered was his son. He told Beau about Ben.

Beau eyes widened. “You have a son?”

“Yes, and the Fosters, the people caring for him, want to adopt him.”

“How bad is Ben’s health?”

“I’m hoping to meet him this afternoon and determine that for myself. Ms. Woods is trying to set it up and from what she’s said, Ben needs lots of care and attention.”

“And you’re willing to do that?”

“Of course I am. He’s my son.”

Silence, then Beau asked, “And Elise?”

Jake swallowed. “She’ll be filing for divorce.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t dwell on it. I have to move forward for Ben.” That was his one goal. As long as he had that, the pain wasn’t so bad.

“I have to be honest,” Beau said. “It would go a hell of a lot better if she was with you.”

“She won’t be.”

“Why not?”

“Dammit, Beau, I’ll be fighting for my son alone. That is all you need to know.” He wasn’t discussing his marriage with Beau or anyone else.

“Okay,” Beau muttered.

Jake’s eyes caught Beau’s. “What are my chances?”

“If Ben has severe problems and these people know how to care for him and he’s familiar with them, a judge’ll think twice before removing him from their home. Being the biological father carries a lot of weight, though. I’ll look up some case law and see if we can even the odds.”

“Thanks, but…”

“But what?”

Jake had trouble expressing what he felt. He cleared his throat. “I want what’s best for Ben and I feel that’s being with me, but I haven’t seen him yet. The Fosters might be able to give him more than I can. If that’s the case, I’ll have to leave him there.”

A slight grin tugged at Beau’s mouth.

Jake frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

“I was thinking that to do what’s best for your son, you might have to relinquish your claim on him—like Mom did with you.”

Jake drew in a long breath. “I don’t want to get into that again.”

“There’re two sides to every story, Jake. One of these days, you might want to hear the other side.”

Jake stood. “I’d better go. I want to be ready when Ms. Woods calls.”

“Call me after you see Ben and let me know your decision.”

“All I can think right now is that I want my son,” Jake said. “That won’t change unless Ben is in such bad shape that I’m unable to handle him. I don’t know anything about kids, but I’m willing to learn. I’m bracing myself for the worst and hoping I can be the father Ben needs. He may need more than me, though. That’s what I have to find out.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Jake.” Beau stopped him.

Jake turned back.

“Give me the word and I’ll fight for you any way I can.”

They stared at each other, two brothers with different points of view bound together by blood—the most powerful connection in the world.

“Thanks,” Jake replied, and walked out.