Читать книгу A Mother For His Adopted Son - Lynne Marshall - Страница 11

ANDREA TAPPED ON the white front door of the boxy mid-century modern home in the hills above Glendale. She was about to ring the bell when the door swung open. Admittedly nervous about facing the handsome Dr. Sam Marcus on his turf, she grinned tensely until she saw him with an adorable little boy balanced on his hip and wearing an eye patch, then she relaxed.

“Come in,” he said, seeming more hospitable than she would have imagined considering their first two encounters.

“Hi,” she said, stepping inside onto expensive-looking white tile in the narrow entryway. “This must be Dani.” She moved closer to the little boy, raised her brows and gave a closed-mouth smile. He buried his face in his father’s shoulder. Ack, too much.

“Bashful,” Sam mouthed.

She nodded and pretended to ignore the adorable little person after that, as Sam bypassed the living room and walked her into the more inviting family room. It was large, square, open and with excellent sources of natural light from tall windows nearly covering one entire wall of the boxy ‘50s architecture. As it was late April, the sun stuck around longer and longer, and though his house abutted mixed-tree-covered hills and stood on metal stilts at the front, the angle at this time of day was perfect for maximum light. A thick brown carpet made her want to kick off her shoes and walk barefoot. Not sure what to do next, she set her backpack and art box aka fishing-tackle box on the classic stone fireplace hearth, then glanced up at Sam. The previously upturned corners of his mouth had stretched into a genuine smile.

She’d given herself a stern talking-to the afternoon they’d made the appointment for letting herself send and pick up on some kind of natural attraction vibes arcing between them. The man was a father! Probably married. How many do-overs would she need with this guy?

Shifting her gaze from Sam, she secretly studied Dani so as not to send him into ostrich mode again. She was admittedly surprised that Dani wasn’t a mini-me of Sam. He looked Asian, Filipino maybe? Was he adopted? And Sam didn’t wear a wedding ring, which made her wonder if he might not be married, but she figured she’d find out soon enough once his wife or significant other made an appearance.

“That’s as good a place as any to set up,” he said, easing Dani down onto his own two feet. “I hope the lighting is good enough.”

“This should be perfect.”

Dani immediately ran toward his stack of toys.

“Um, should I wait for your wife?”

“I’m not married. I adopted Dani on my own.” Sam sat on the large wraparound couch and put his feet up on the circular ottoman at the center.

“That’s fantastic.” Don’t sound so enthusiastic! “The adoption part, I mean.” The only men she knew in Los Angeles who adopted kids on their own were gay. Dr. Marcus clearly didn’t fall into that category if she read that subtle humming interest between them right.

“I knew what you meant.” A kind gaze came winging her way, and she felt her anxiety over making a dumb remark take a step down.

“Does he speak English?”

“They spoke both English and Tagalog at the orphanage. He’s superbright and picks up more and more words every day.” Spoken like a proud papa.

She found the boy busy with a colorful toy TV controller, punching buttons and listening to sounds and jingles, and dropped to her knees. “So, Dani, may I look under your patch?”

The black-haired toddler, who was small for his age, kept his head down, staring at the gadget in his hand, as he let her gingerly remove the child-sized patch. She’d seen empty eye socket after empty eye socket in the four years since she’d started the apprenticeship, but this was her first toddler. Grandma had given her a pep talk that afternoon about how much she believed in Andrea’s talent and technical skills, and truth was she knew she’d caught on quickly to the long and tedious process of re-creating matching eyes for the eyeless. But this was a beautiful little kid, and her heart squeezed every time she looked at him, thinking this was way too early for anyone to need a prosthetic. But was there ever a good age?

She’d worn stretch slacks, so she sat cross-legged beside him in order to be at his level. “I need to make a little cast to fit your face, Dani. Will you let me do that?”

The boy looked at his father, who reassured him it was okay with a slow, deep nod.

“It won’t hurt, I promise, but it might feel strange and cold for a little while.” With adult patients it was so much easier to explain the process. She’d just have to wing it with Dani. “May I take some pictures of your eye, too?”

“Eye gone,” he said, slapping his palm over the left socket, as if she didn’t know.

“This eye.” She pointed to the right one.

“Okay.” She could hardly hear him.

“Thank you.” She blinked when he glanced up. “Do you ever play with clay?”

He nodded shyly.

“This stuff is kind of like clay. Want to watch?”

“Okay.”

“Here, you can touch it.”

He did but immediately pulled back his hand at the feel of the foreign, gooey substance.

Andrea worked quickly to make enough casting gel to press into the empty socket area, and when it was time, Sam held Dani’s head still while she gently pressed it into the completely healed cavity. “Cold?”

“Uh-huh.”

“But it doesn’t hurt, right?”

He shook his head and they smiled at each other. He understood she hadn’t lied. A sudden urge to cuddle the boy had her skimming her clean palm across his short-cropped hair instead. “How’d you get to be so sweet?”

“Don’t know.”

A surge of emotion made her eyes prickle. This precious guy had already lost an eye to cancer. How was that for a huge dose of reality to a toddler? She swallowed against the moisture gathering in her throat. “I bet you were born sweet.” Was this how it felt to flirt with a little kid?

The statement wasn’t the least bit funny, but Dani thought it was and he giggled, his remaining almond-shaped eye almost closing when he did. She hadn’t been around many children since way back when she used to babysit for movie money, but something about Dani made her want to kiss his chubby cheeks and touch the tip of his rounded nose with her pointer finger.

She wiped her hands clean and dug out her camera from the backpack. “May I take your picture?”

“Uh-huh.” He watched her as if mesmerized, but also maybe a little afraid to move with the cast in place and taking form.

“I have to get really close to your eye. Is that okay?”

“Yes.”

She leaned in toward his cute out-sticking ear and whispered, “I promise not to touch your eye, just take pictures.”

He sat perfectly still and stared at her camera as she focused and zoomed in and shot photo after photograph of his dark brown orb. Later she’d study that eye until she had it memorized, then, and only then, would she attempt the intricate painting of his iris. Making eyes was a long and tedious process that took anywhere between sixteen and occasionally up to eighty hours, even though there was a big push to go digital these days. Mistakes weren’t acceptable in Grandma’s world. Neither was digital technology. Andrea had learned early on to take the extra time and effort at the beginning to save hours of do-overs. And she loved that part of her job.

By the age of three she knew the human eye was just a hair smaller by one or two millimeters than it would eventually become, and that by the age of thirteen it would reach the full adult size. Danilo would probably need a new prosthesis at that time, if not before, but she planned to make this one to last a full decade. The boy deserved no less.

After four minutes the timer went off, alerting her that the silicone was set. Tomorrow, back in the O&A department, she’d duplicate it in wax and later reform it until it fit Dani perfectly, which would give her another excuse to see the adorable little guy. There’d be multiple reasons to see Dani, since he’d have a trial period of wearing a clear acrylic beneath his patch for fitting purposes for the next month while she re-created his iris.

“I’m all done. What do you think about that?” She gently eased out the silicone cast from his eye socket, brow line and upper cheek.

“Okay.”

“And it didn’t hurt, did it?”

He shook his head. She showed him what the cast looked like and he made a funny face, which made her laugh, then she carefully put the partial facial and eye-socket cast into a protective carrying case. Dani watched every move she made, as if she might be taking part of his face with her. She handed him a mirror to see she’d left all of him behind. He stoically studied himself, missing eye and all, which made her want to brighten him up.

Andrea raised her brows and pressed her lips together before talking. “Did you know I brought you a present?”

His other eye widened. “No.” So serious.

“I brought you my favorite stuffed frog.” She reached into her backpack and pulled out the bean-stuffed toy that used to sit on her computer monitor at work. She’d grabbed it on a whim just before she’d left tonight. “His name is Ribbit.”

Dani giggled again. “I like him.”

“Here. He’s yours. You earned him for being so good.” She offered him the toy, and he reached for it without hesitation.

“What do you say?” For the first time in the entire process Sam spoke up.

“Thank you.”

She couldn’t help herself and kissed his forehead. “You are welcome.”

Sam cleared his throat. “Can I make you some tea or coffee?”

“Tea sounds good. Thanks.” There was a strange expression in Sam’s eyes when theirs met, as if maybe he’d been touched by the interchange with her and Dani as much as she had.

Dani played happily with his frog as Andrea helped put the eye patch back on. “There. Now you look like a pirate.”

“I don’t like pirate.”

“When I make your new eye, you won’t need to wear the patch anymore.”

He touched the patch and tugged on it. “Okay.”

“Hey, is this your truck?” She crawled over to a pile of toys in the corner of the room. “May I play with it?” The boy quickly followed her and laughed when she made a vroom-vroom sound, pushing the red truck around the carpet, while waiting for Sam to make the tea.

Next they played building blocks, and Dani took great pleasure in letting her build her colorful tower, only to knock it down the instant she’d finished. She pretended to be upset, folding her arms and pouting, but the boy saw right through her. Mostly what they did was laugh, giggle, tease each other and horse around until Sam showed up with the tea.

“I hate to break up the play, Dani, but it’s time to get you ready for bed.”

Dani acted upset. He pushed out his lower lip and crossed his chubby arms just like Andrea had done a few moments before, but she knew it was all a show. He’d been rubbing his right eye when they’d played, like any little kid who was getting sleepy. When he thought she wasn’t looking, he’d even yawned.

“Oh, jammies,” Andrea said, to distract him from his pout. “I bet you’ve got really cool jammies.”

“My jammies have trucks,” he said, his sweet single-eyed gaze waiting for her reaction.

“Trucks! I think you already know how much I love trucks.”

She was positive she saw him puff out his chest. Sam offered his hand and Dani took it, looking happily up at his father. The moment went still in her mind like a photograph, as she admired the sweet boy with the loving new parent he’d had the good fortune to find. But before he left the room she called after him. “Dani, don’t forget your frog.”

He trotted back to take it and gave her one last smile before running off to his father’s waiting hand, then walking with him down the hall. Andrea sat on the plush carpet and sipped her fragrant chamomile tea, her heart aching for a precious little boy with one eye. The warm tea helped smooth out the lump in her throat, but there was no way she’d soon forget Dani.

A large framed black-and-white photograph on the opposite wall caught her attention. She carried her tea over to it and counted eight kids with a mother and father, all grinning, on someone’s front lawn. She studied the enlarged grainy family photo and determined that the boy third from the end might possibly be Sam Marcus. Or maybe he was second in? Come to think of it, there wasn’t a very strong family resemblance.

A tallish woman with a broad smile and clear-looking eyes stood next to a droopy-shouldered man with a soft, kind face. They both had dark hair. Two of the kids looked even less like the rest, a blonde girl and a gangly boy with a buzz cut, but somehow those two had earned the favored position of each standing under a draping arm of the mother. Maybe that was Sam under her right arm? Who knew? The date at the bottom of the blown-up picture read “1990.” That would make Dr. Marcus somewhere around thirty.

Andrea’s gaze wandered to another wall and a shiny silver frame with beautiful cursive penmanship on a weathered scroll inside. The title read “Legend of the Starfish” and the short allegory taught that though a person might not be able to save everyone, in this case starfish, they could at least help one at a time. She stood pondering the words, sipping her tea, wondering what this told her about Dr. Samuel Marcus, the single guy who’d adopted a little boy from the Philippines.

Ten minutes had passed. She’d put all of Dani’s toys back where they belonged and had almost finished her herbal tea when Sam returned. He wore comfortable jeans that still managed to hug his hips and thighs, and a white with black stripes polo shirt he hadn’t bothered to tuck in. It gave her a glimpse of his broader-than-she’d-expected chest and surprising biceps. He walked around in his socks, proving he was totally at home in his castle. His cell phone rang. He checked the caller and said, “Sorry, but I’ve got to take this. It’s my sister.” She nodded her approval.

“You’re up late,” he said, then walked around the room in brief yet very familiar conversation. She tried not to listen, though envying him having a sister to share things with.

His hair was less tidy tonight, and Andrea liked the effect, especially when a clump fell forward onto his forehead when he bent over to pick up an overlooked toy block. And the eyes that had practically drilled a hole into her the last time they’d met seemed smoky blue tonight without a trace of tension around them. She’d often heard the term “boyish good looks,” but never understood what that meant until now. How could that uptight man who’d barged into her department be the same guy standing in front of her? A man who’d adopted a little boy on his own and appeared to genuinely enjoy a conversation with his sister. A man like that had to have a good heart.

She took in a tiny breath as he ended the call and approached, her enjoying every step. So this was what an everyday hero looked like. Feeling nothing short of smitten, she let out a beyond-friendly smile.

Sam didn’t know why he’d choked up just before he’d put Dani to bed, but seeing Andrea with his son, and how effortlessly they’d gotten along, made him remember how much Katie had let him down. Evidently having her own kids would have been one thing, but it’d been too much for her to consider adopting someone else’s child. “You never know what you’ll get,” she’d said. “You could be adopting a million problems.” He’d argued that the same could be said for any child. Besides, he’d seen with his own eyes what wonders selfless understanding and generosity of love could work on most kids. His foster mother had been the queen of that, not only with her own children but with all the kids she’d brought into their home.

He wasn’t about to go down Katie’s road of disappointment and pain again, especially right now, not when the dramatic-looking, height-challenged blonde with big overly made-up brown eyes sat waiting for him. He smiled and she gave a flirtatious beam right back. He definitely liked that, even though he knew a smile like that could be dangerous.

“You’ve made quite an impression. Dani said to tell you good-night.”

“Great. He’s an awfully sweet kid.”

“Yeah, he has a gentle nature.” Now wasn’t the time to go all soft over the misfortune of his beautiful adopted son, and how sometimes it reminded him of his own situation as a child, so he focused on his tea. “My tea’s gone cold. Can I refill yours?” He scooped up his cup and took hers when she offered it to him, then headed for the kitchen. Surprisingly, she followed along in her bare feet. He liked it that she’d made herself at home.

He put their cups on the kitchen counter, and as he turned on the front burner to heat the teapot, he felt her expectant gaze. He glanced over his shoulder and found her still smiling at him, so he smiled back, letting her warmth pass through him. If they kept up this goofy grinning, things could get awkward.

“It’s really obvious you’re a good and loving father.”

“I don’t know how true that is, but he deserves no less.” He kept busy, opening and closing drawers and cabinets, but talked freely.

Something about her easygoing and encouraging style helped him open up. “You know my greatest fear is that Dani might lose his other eye. They say the odds are low with a single retinoblastoma, but having gone through this with him I guess I’m still afraid it could happen again. And the kid so doesn’t deserve any of this.” He bit back his frustration.

Andrea kept quiet, cuing him to keep talking, so he did. “No matter what happens, my goal is to make as normal a life as possible for Dani.”

“I can tell how much you care about him.” She folded her hands on the quartz surface, and he thought the counter was high for her stature. She’d need a little stool to wash dishes at this sink. The thought tickled him and made the corner of his mouth quirk, imagining her standing on a stool in his kitchen, washing plates. So domestic, so different than the artistic impression she gave. Where had that thought come from?

She couldn’t be more than five feet, but what a powerhouse. She’d probably never be caught dead washing dishes for a guy. He sensed she’d never let anyone take advantage of her. She sure as hell hadn’t let him that day. Thinking back to her stern father, he was sure she’d probably had to grow a steel spine to survive. Yeah, no way she’d be a happy dishwasher.

He poured them both more tea and they sat at the kitchen table, and because she was so easy to be around, and seemed so sympathetic toward Dani, he decided to really open up. “I’m afraid people will look at Dani and pity him, which, by the way, you absolutely didn’t do. Thanks for that.”

She dipped her head and blinked slowly, then took a sip of her tea, so serious. “I’ve had a lot of practice with our clientele.”

“I’m sure you have.” He sipped, but the tea was too hot, so he put the cup on the table. “I also worry that other kids will be curious about his fake eye and make him self-conscious.”

“I think all kids are self-conscious about something.”

A quick flash of him being around seven or eight and having to wear faded thrift-store shirts that didn’t fit to school, because that was all his mother could afford, reminded him firsthand about self-consciousness.

“The thing is, I don’t want him to slip into the mindset of feeling inferior. That could set the tone for the rest of his life. I’d hate for that to happen.” He’d been fighting those feelings his entire life, and he’d obviously said something to move Andrea, because she leaned forward and her hand cupped his forearm and tightened.

“I’m going to make the most perfect eye ever for him. The other kids won’t even notice.”

“Then it’ll be my job to teach him to be totally independent, not afraid to try things.” His crazy, lovable foster family came to mind. “Hell, if he takes after any of his new uncles, he’ll give me gray hair before my time.”

“I think your plan is perfect. Dani’s a lucky boy to have you as his father. By the way, is that your family in that big picture?”

He considered the Murphys his family, especially after he’d been taken away from his mother at ten and she’d officially given him up when he’d been twelve—which had hurt like nothing he’d ever experienced before and could never be matched until Katie had walked away— and they’d kept him until he’d been eighteen, then sent him off to college.

“Yep. The big clan, circa 1990. I was around ten in that one.”

“Ah, you were the middle brother. I thought I recognized you.” She laughed lightly, and he was glad she’d taken the time to look at his family picture, but didn’t feel like going into the complicated explanation of who they really were. He hardly knew her. He’d let her think what he let the rest of the world think—he’d come from a big, happy family.

“Yeah, try being in the middle of four daredevil brothers. Those guys were tough acts to follow. Probably why I went into medicine.” His professional choice had also been part of his determination to prove the positive impact fostering could have. It had been his way of giving something back. But she didn’t need to know that, either.

She smiled and he grinned back. He found his smiles coming more often and easier, spending time with her. It felt good.

“I can only imagine.” She went quiet.

They sat in silence for a while, him in deep thought about the responsibilities of being a single father, about how his parents had taught by example the importance of routine and stability in every kid’s life, and having no clue what Andrea was ruminating about. Soon the tea was gone and she stood.

“Time to go?” How could he blame her? He’d gone quiet after the topic of his family had come up, then had gotten all maudlin about his lack of parental skills. Great company. Who’d want to stick around for more of that?

“Yes. I want to get an early start on my project tomorrow.”

He stood now, too. “I’m really glad you’re doing it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re not nearly as bad as I originally thought.” They laughed together, and it lightened the shifting mood. He wanted that earlier ease back between them.

“Oh, yes, the impertinent ocularist strikes again,” she teased. “But I could have sworn you started it.”

“I was uptight. Give me a break.”

He could tell from the benign look on her face that she was indeed giving him a break, that she totally understood, especially now having met Dani, and he truly appreciated that.

They headed for the family room, where her tackle box and backpack had been left, Dani’s silicone cast safely tucked inside. “And I had no idea what you’d just been through.” With the backpack over one shoulder she faced him, an earnest expression softening her serious face. “Please forgive me for being rude to you that day.”

“I’ve already forgotten. Besides, after the way you and Dani became fast friends tonight, I kind of have to.”

That got another smile and a breath of a laugh out of her.

He walked her to the door and allowed one quick thought about how great she looked in those black slacks and the pale blue sweater hugging her curves. It was so much better than those faded scrubs and that frumpy white lab coat.

They said good-night, and he asked when he’d need to bring Dani in for reshaping of the wax mold she planned to make.

“I’ll be in touch,” she said, “as soon as possible, I promise.”

“Then I’ll take you at your word.”

They said their goodbyes. He closed the door and scratched his chin and let his mind wonder about the possibility of something more working out between him and the perky ocularist. That was a first since Katie, too, and a good thing. Wasn’t it about time to start dating again? For an instant he realized how single mothers must feel, wondering if a man wanted to get involved with a lady with kids. Was that how it worked the other way around? Would it matter to Andrea, as it had mattered to Katie, that he was an adoptive father?