Читать книгу Wild Honey - Veronica Sattler - Страница 10

TRAVIS WATCHED the Saab drive away feeling as if he’d been poleaxed. It had been like looking at a mirror into the past. Thirty years past. Even if his memory was playing tricks on him, which he knew it wasn’t. He’d seen enough snapshots of himself over the years to know damned well what he looked like as a kid.

Gathering his spinning thoughts, Travis made his way slowly to the bed. He lowered himself to the mattress that barely accommodated his big frame. Tucking his free hand behind his head, he stared pensively at the ceiling.

His thoughts gravitated inexorably to the clinic in Massachusetts. The clinic where he’d first seen Randi Terhune. The fertility clinic where he’d donated his sperm. On a dare. And suddenly he knew: the results of that irresponsible stunt had come home to roost.

“Damn!” The oath exploded in the quiet room as he went over the episode in his mind….

He’d been hitting the books hard, averaging maybe four hours sleep a night. Then exams were over and he’d wanted nothing more than to crash for twenty-four hours. But he hadn’t. Jenkins and Henley waylaid him on his way to his apartment and convinced him they all owed themselves a night on the town to celebrate.

So he’d gone with them from one watering hole to the next. Drinking more than he ever had or likely would again. Taking their dare had been the most singularly immature act of his so-called manhood.

Yet he’d done it. Despite the host of misgivings that plagued him when he realized what he’d committed himself to. From the moment he awoke with a king-size hangover the next morning till the instant, two days later, he walked through the clinic’s doors, he’d regretted that commitment.

His discomfort level had been acute. He’d always loved kids. The mere thought of a child of his walking around somewhere without him left a bad taste in his mouth.

“Ah, hell!” Travis shifted restlessly on the bed, his mind swinging mercilessly back to that time.

All the regret in the world hadn’t swayed him. He’d honored that commitment, no matter how stupid it seemed in the harsh light of day. Because honor was the operative term here. A McLean didn’t welsh on a dare.

Another fact of the immaturity that characterized the whole mess, he told himself grimly. A mature man would have gone to Jenkins and Henley and told them flat out that it was a dumb idea. That it violated an underlying code of ethics he intended to live by, and that was that.

But he hadn’t. Instead, he’d rationalized, telling himself his donation was a selfless act; he hadn’t sold the specimen, after all, as some impecunious med students were rumored to do. What’s more, he’d told himself, he would probably be making some childless couple very happy.

That was what he told himself whenever a twinge of conscience nagged him over the years. And eventually the twinges grew fewer and farther between. Hell, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even thought about it.

But he did remember. He’d thought about it not an hour ago. Very likely spurred by a subliminal recognition of a face he’d seen before, even if it took a while for his conscious mind to make the connection. And now that kid…

Closing his eyes, he pictured the child—all big blue eyes and engaging grin under a cap of unruly blond curls. Curls exactly like his. And he’d hugged Terhune.

Dammit, there was no getting away from facts. In his line of work, lives often depended on the ability to quickly assess the facts at hand, no matter how meager, and draw conclusions from them. And right now, the few facts he had were leading him to one earthshaking conclusion: that kid could very likely be his son!

JILL TERHUNE eyed her sister with concern as she handed Randi a mug of decaf. They were in the kitchen of the house they shared, inherited from the great-aunt who’d raised them after their stepfather’s death. Matt had gone next door to play with Robbie Spencer the minute they got home, so it was just the two of them. Jill could finally pursue what had been on her mind since picking Randi up.

“Wanna tell me about it?” The older sister kept her voice casual, pouring herself a coffee and taking a seat across the table from Randi.

Randi glanced up from her mug with a look of surprise. “Tell you about what?”

“Whatever it is that’s got you so on edge.” Jill smiled to soften her words. “You’ve been strung tighter than a guitar string ever since I picked you up from work.”

Randi grinned sheepishly. “That obvious, huh?”

Jill grinned back. “It’s me, pipsqueak—ol’ eagle eye, Jill the pill, remember?”

Randi laughed, relaxing for the first time since the upsetting encounter in the ER. Jill’s use of their childhood names for each other could do that. It could also evoke a host of memories. Memories that bound them, reminding them of what they were to each other. Of the love between them, shared gladly these four years with the small boy they both adored.

Suddenly Randi frowned. Was her sister the only one who’d noted her unease? Besides half the ER staff? “Jill, do you think Matt noticed…”

Jill laughed and shook her head. “Fortunately he was too wrapped up in the news about the Spencers’ new baby—even if she isn’t the brother Robbie’d been hoping for.”

“True,” Randi said with a chuckle. “Remember when he told us Robbie had put in an order for a boy?”

Jill chuckled, too. “And if it turned out to be a girl, he was going to tell his mother to send her back?”

“Uh-huh. And then he asked if we could…Oh, God!” Randi dropped her face into her hands. Matt had asked if they could order a baby brother for him.

Jill reached across the table and gently touched her sister’s shoulder. “Randi, what is it?”

Randi collected herself, lowering her hands and reaching for her coffee. She took a sip and heaved a sigh. “I’d love to be able to give Matt a baby brother or sister, but…I can’t.”

“Not by going the route you used to conceive Matt, I agree.” Jill knew her conservative sister was troubled by misgivings over the ethics of what she’d done in that clinic, despite her reluctance to voice them. But they were close; she needn’t be a mind reader to tune in to Randi’s feelings.

“But last I heard,” Jill went on, “the more conventional means of having kids hasn’t gone out of style. Randi, you’re only thirty-two. That’s hardly over the hill. I mean, look at me. I’ll be marrying at thirty-four. You could still meet someone special, if only you’d—”

“Jill.” Randi said her name softly, but to Jill it had the impact of a shout The topic was not to be pursued. They’d been over this before, always with the same result: Randi wanted no part of dating. No part of men and marriage. Of sex. Although she’d never put it to Jill in those terms.

The problem was that Jill was certain she knew why but could say nothing to Randi about it. Your sister’s not yet ready to deal with the deepest roots of her emotional distress, Jill. Dr. Carol Martin’s words threaded through her mind as she and Randi quietly sipped their coffees. Beyond that, I can tell you nothing. Her sessions with me—like yours—are entirely confidential….

Jill could still see the counselor’s face on the day she’d told her this. It had been calm, relaxed. But by then Jill and Carol had known each other several years and become friends. So Jill had been able to see that, while her face was professionally neutral, Carol’s eyes were troubled. Because on that day, Randi had elected to end her counseling.

Carol had urged Randi to continue, but to no avail. Basing her decision solely on the fact that Carol had declared her sister healed of the emotional wounds of sexual abuse, Randi had reasoned she must be healed, as well.

If Carol says you’re okay and ready to get on with your life, I should be, too. Now it was Randi’s words that drifted through Jill’s mind, spoken in reply to Jill’s asking her why she wasn’t returning to Martin’s office. After all, Jill, darling, you were the one—I mean, I was only a frightened witness, wasn’t I?

But Jill knew otherwise. She’d seen their stepfather coming out of Randi’s room, too, during that terrible time after their mother died. More than once. He’d been abusing Randi, too.

But Randi apparently had no memory of it. “Blocking” was the psychological term for what she was doing, according to the books Jill had read on the subject. Not that Carol Martin would confirm or deny this to Jill—that professional confidentiality again. But Jill had certainly told Carol what she’d seen, so Carol knew the score. She just couldn’t discuss it with Jill, although she’d warned the older sister not to broach it with Randi on her own.

She’d likely deny it, Jill, the doctor had said. And you might even find it causes an estrangement between you. Worse, hearing you recount what you saw might cause a traumatic reaction in Randi—especially if she’s not emotionally prepared to deal with it. I caution you to leave it alone.

And so Jill had. But on the day Randi decided to leave counseling, she’d been sorely tempted to speak. Only her fear of making matters worse had kept her silent. The best she’d been able to manage had been a faint argument that implied she accepted Randi’s version of what happened…

But being a witness is still traumatic, Randi. Remember? Remember how we both broke down and cried at school? Jill still thanked God they’d somehow found the courage to approach someone with their tale after their stepfather was killed in that car crash. Their guidance counselor had told Aunt Tess and recommended the sessions with Carol Martin. The sessions that had healed Jill, but not her sister.

Jill barely suppressed a sigh. No matter how hard she’d argued, she hadn’t been able to persuade Randi to go back to Martin. It’s time we both put the whole ugly business behind us, Jill, she’d replied, and had never gone to Carol’s office again.

The whole ugly business. Yes, it was ugly, and yes, Jill was able to put it behind her. Carol Martin’s work had gently led her to a point where she could. By focusing on her strength as a survivor and helping her to feel empowered. And accentuating the positive in her experience with men. Especially her healthy relationship with the biological father they’d lost. Carol had been able to help Jill reconstruct the positive self-image that was badly threatened by her stepfather’s abuse. Threatened, but not shattered, thanks largely to Daddy and the caring relationship the girls had had with both their parents while they were alive.

Jill had come out of counseling a whole woman. Her relationship with David was proof of it. David, a decent, stable man she trusted completely—and loved to distraction! She could barely wait for the wedding. Yes, she was ready to get on with her life.

Just as she knew Randi wasn’t. If only she’d go back to see Carol. Something had to give. Her sister was a warm, loving woman. Jill didn’t believe a career, even combined with mothering, would be enough to fulfill Randi’s deepest needs. Not for the long haul. Besides, kids had a way of growing up and—

“So I seem on edge, huh?” Randi’s question pulled her back.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Jill shrugged. “You could, of course, have taken up shredding Kleenex as a hobby, I guess.”

Randi grimaced, recalling the tissues she’d absently torn to shreds in the car. She took a sip of coffee, setting the mug down with a sigh. “Something, uh, unexpected happened in the ER last night—and I don’t mean the emergencies. Except that the man happened to be a patient, that is.”

“The man?”

Randi’s face tightened with strain. “His name is Travis McLean. I know it means nothing to you, Jill, because I never mentioned it to you. But he’s—” she paused for a deep breath “—Matt’s father.”

Jill stopped in the act of raising her mug and stared at her. “Dear Lord!” she murmured at last. “Are you cer—”

“Dead certain.” Randi’s eyes closed, then opened again. “I recognized him, but I also confirmed the name—Travis Paxton McLean. It was on the admittance form.”

Jill nodded slowly, her eyes on Randi’s face. “I can see why that would have been unnerving.” Unnerving, yes, but why did her sister look so haunted? “Did he, uh, recognize you?”

“I don’t think so, but…” Randi hesitated, reluctant to say anything about the guilt the incident had dredged up. Hadn’t she worked all that out years ago? Matt had been worth the unorthodox means she’d used to have him. Dear Lord, if she didn’t have Matt in her life, she’d—

Abruptly she shook her head. “No, as far as I could tell, he didn’t remember me.”

“Well, then—” Jill smiled and patted her hand “—if he didn’t recognize you, there’s nothing to worry about.” She threw her sister a shrewdly assessing glance. “Is there?”

Randi shrugged and took a sip from her mug. “No, I

suppose not, but…” But then, why can’t you stop thinking about the man? Why do you keep seeing his face every time you look at your son? And why do you keep remembering those odd currents that ran right through you when he grinned at you, teased you and bantered with you?

Jill looked at her expectantly, but Randi had no intention of voicing such things. Big sister would only start in again about her needing to date, and there was no way. Especially when the man under discussion was Travis McLean.

“Come on, sis, talk to me,” Jill urged, her voice gentle. “But…?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Randi avoided her sister’s eyes. “I guess I’m just blowing the whole thing out of proportion because I’m tired. I’ve been putting in some long hours at the hospital.”

“True,” Jill said, suspecting there was more to it than that but reluctant to say so. On the other hand, if seeing Matt’s biological father had triggered the old guilt in Randi, this might be the perfect opportunity to suggest she do something about it. Obliquely of course.

“I spoke to Carol Martin on the phone this morning, Randi,” she said casually, eyeing her sister as she reached for the coffeepot and refilled her mug.

“Oh?”

“She’ll be able to be a bridesmaid for sure. Her family reunion’s been postponed till December.”

“Oh, Jill, I’m glad. I know how much you wanted her in the wedding party.”

Jill nodded, sliding a careful glance at her. “She asked about you…how you are.”

“Mmm,” Randi murmured noncommittally. She knew what was coming.

“You know,” Jill said all too cheerfully, “you ought to drop in on her one of these days.”

“Drop in on her…at her office, you mean?”

Jill had the grace to blush, then laughed. “Okay, okay, but it was worth a try.”

Randi laughed, too, then grew serious. “We’ve been over this ground before, Jill, and, no, I don’t feel I need to see Carol professionally. There’s nothing wrong with me that a little R and R wouldn’t cure. So, sister mine, bug off!”

With a sigh, Jill used her index fingers to mimic the antennae of a bug and waggled her head—an old joke between them—and they both laughed.

Then Jill said, “Okay, what about the R and R? Is your vacation still on for next week, or is that summer flu gonna put a cramp in your plans?”

“It had better not. I’ll lose my five-hundred-dollar deposit on the cottage if I cancel.”

Randi had engaged a beach cottage on Maryland’s Eastern Shore for three weeks, and she was looking forward to spending some quality time there with Matt. She’d sent in her deposit months ago.

“The hospital wouldn’t force you to cancel if they were short-staffed, would they?” Jill asked worriedly.

“Relax. I reminded Dr. Harper of it just yesterday, and all signals are go.”

“Good,” Jill said, “because I’ve got something to tell you with regard to those three weeks.”

“Shoot.”

“Well, David and I were discussing it, and we think it’s super that you’re doing this with Matt.” Jill paused, wanting to phrase this exactly right. Randi was an excellent mother, despite being a single parent with a career. She’d taken great pains, since Matt’s birth, to arrange her life to accommodate a child. No, not just accommodate. Matt was a priority in everything she did.

She hadn’t gone to work at all for the first year of her son’s life, dipping into her savings to support them. And when she went back to nursing, she frequently took night duty to allow her time with Matt during the day. Jill had helped, too.

As an interior decorator working out of her office at home, she’d been able to juggle her schedule; between the two sisters, they’d managed to raise Matt with very little outside assistance.

But as Jill saw it, there were problems lurking on the horizon. She worried about how Randi would manage after the wedding, when Jill left to make her home with David. She also worried her sister might actually be spending too much time with Matt, for every free moment revolved around the child. This hadn’t been a bad thing when Matt was an infant, but as he grew older, Jill feared Randi was in danger of overdoing it. A child needed love and affection as much as food to grow up whole and healthy; but just as too much food was a bad idea, so was too much affection; it could be smothering.

And the signs were already there. Randi’s concern for Matt bordered on the overprotective. She hired a sitter—even the older woman who lived up the block and whom they’d known for years—only as a last resort; when Jill couldn’t stay with Matt, Randi frequently canceled an engagement rather than leave him with someone else.

And Randi never spent recreational time alone; her vacations always included Matt. She didn’t seem to think she sometimes needed time for herself, to recharge her batteries.

So when Randi had mentioned this vacation on the Eastern Shore, Jill had discussed her concerns with David, and they’d come up with a plan.

“Listen, Randi,” she said, “Mart’s a great kid, and I know how much you wanna be with him. Still, wouldn’t you enjoy at least part of those three weeks by yourself?”

Randi blinked, looking bemused. “By myself? Whatever for? You know how much I—”

“—love Matt and adore spending quality time with him—I know, I know. But what about you? Didn’t you just admit to needing some R and R?”

“Sure, I did, and I intend to get it—with Matt.”

Jill sighed. “Come on, sis, get real. Matt’s a super kid, and we all love him to bits. But you know as well as I do he’s a real live wire. A weekend with him can wear you out. Where’s the rest in that, huh?”

“Jill, I just couldn’t leave him while I—”

“Not even for a trip to Disney World with me and David?”

There was a moment of silence as Randi took in Jill’s grinning face. “You’re kidding, right?”

“Never been more serious in my life. David and I are going there the week after next, and we’d like to take Matt.”

“But why? Aren’t engaged couples supposed to want, uh, time with each other?”

Jill shrugged. “We already have a lot of that, with both of us living in the same town and the ability to set our own work hours.” An architect who owned his own firm, David could arrange his schedule to suit Jill’s, so the two shared lots of their own quality time.

“And besides,” she added, “we need Matt.”

“Huh?”

Jill’s grin was ear to ear now. “What good is a trip to Disney World without a little kid along to help you enjoy it? It’d be almost as bad as Christmas without children. We need kids for these things—to keep the magic in them.”

Randi shook her head and smiled, despite her reluctance to accept the proposal. Vacation without Matt? She’d feel…naked somehow. Hadn’t she rearranged her life to include her son wherever she could?

“Aw, come on, sis,” Jill pressed. “This would be a terrific opportunity for the kid, and you know it!”

Chuckling, Randi addressed an invisible witness. “Now she appeals to my conscience. You’re a rat, Jill the pill.”

Jill laughed unabashedly. Randi was weakening and she knew it. “Furthermore,” she added, “it isn’t as if you’d be missing beach time with Matt entirely. He’d go with you for the first week. Then we’d pick him up at the cottage and drive to Florida with him, while you get the rest you need.”

Randi sighed. It made perfect sense. Which, of course, coming from Jill, was to be expected. Jill had always been the sensible one, even as a child, whereas Randi had been the dreamer. As a child. When had she stopped? Somewhere on the road to adulthood, she supposed. Dreams were all well and good, but they didn’t put food on the table or clothes on your child. And they didn’t protect you from—

“Randi?” Jill’s concerned voice cut across Randi’s thoughts. “What’s the matter, sis? You looked awfully worried there for a moment. Did I say something?”

“You sure did, you sneak. Everything needed to convince me I’d be a selfish meanie not to agree to your plan.”

“Does that mean…”

“You win! Matt goes to Disney World—and I go crazy for two weeks, trying to occupy myself without him.”

‘Oh, I don’t know,” Jill said as she jumped up to hug her. “A little crazy might be just what the doctor ordered.”

But as Randi hugged her back, Jill’s words triggered an image. Doctor… Travis McLean, former med student, was now certainly a doctor, though in what capacity she hadn’t found out. Travis McLean…Matt’s father. What would it have been like for Matt to have known him? she wondered. To have his mother and father show him Disney World, instead of an aunt and her fiancé?

With an inward sigh, she swept these questions from her mind. It was too late to worry about such things. But as she and Jill began to discuss the forthcoming vacation, a remnant of unease remained….