Adopted Parents (10 page)

Still, not finding Nate home let some of the air out of Hallie’s happy balloon. And that made her think about Roberta’s warning again. She definitely had a handle on the situation with Ahn, just as she’d explained to Liz. But was she letting herself become too attached to Nate?

No, Hallie decided as she got out of the Mercedes and retrieved Ahn.
Attached
wasn’t the right word—
dependent
was.

She had become dependent on Nate.

And why wouldn’t she? Depending on each other was part of their agreement.

With that disturbing thought settled, Hallie headed for the house with Ahn on her hip. The rich aroma of something cooking filled her nostrils the second she opened the door.

Hallie made her way through the den to the kitchen and placed the diaper bag on one of the bar stools. The note she picked up from the counter read:

Gladys.

Gladys always arrived promptly at eight and left at noon. How she managed to accomplish what she did in four short hours was still a mystery to Hallie. But the house was always spotless, laundry-free and the evening meal taken care of before Gladys left.

“Well,” Hallie said, looking at Ahn. “I guess we’d better fix you some lunch, huh?”

As soon as she said it, Hallie glanced at the clock on the microwave. 12:25 and Nate still wasn’t home. And lunch meant vegetables. No Nate, no lunch.

Hallie was leaning toward another mac and cheese meal rather than spoil their big bonding moment, when the door off the den opened. Hallie looked over her shoulder and smiled when Nate walked in.

Yes, she depended on him. And he hadn’t let her down.

“Boy, am I glad you’re back,” Hallie told him. “I was about to cave and let Ahn have mac and cheese for lunch rather than fight her to eat her vegetables.”

She’d expected at least a smile out of him, or some kind of quick comeback. When she got neither, Hallie knew something was wrong.

“Are you okay?”

He looked at her for a second. “Why don’t we go out for lunch? There’s a pizza parlor a few miles away. We could go there and still have Ahn back on time for her nap.”

Hallie hesitated. “But we don’t know if Ahn will eat pizza.”

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said and headed for the door as if the matter were settled.

Hallie remained still for a second, then picked up the diaper bag again and followed. She had no idea what had put Nate in such a pissy mood—she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know. But something told her not to argue with him about going out for pizza. They’d been getting along too well to start a fight over something as trivial as him suggesting that they go out for lunch.

She found him waiting for her when she walked onto the deck. He didn’t say a word. He simply took the diaper bag off her shoulder, reached for Ahn, then started down the steps.

O-kay.

Again, Hallie kept her mouth shut. As hard as that was for her to do, she followed along behind him without saying a word. She didn’t say anything when she got into Nate’s SUV. Not when he put Ahn in the car seat they’d bought for the Rover. And not when Nate backed down the driveway and they headed off to this mysterious pizza parlor that supposedly was only a few miles away. Neither of them said a thing.

For at least two minutes they didn’t say a word.

Until Ahn let out a bloodcurdling scream.

“Jesus!” Nate exclaimed and almost ran off the road.

Hallie burst out laughing. Ahn giggled, pleased with herself.

Nate frowned at Hallie. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

Hallie gave him a quick rundown of how all the women sharing stories about Janet had caused her mini-meltdown after play group. How she’d screamed in frustration and how Ahn had laughed for the first time. And how they’d both screamed together. How wonderful it had been to see Ahn finally expressing herself instead of giving Hallie her usual disconnected stare.

But Hallie didn’t tell him what Janet had told Liz. Or that she’d called Liz on the way home to apologize and to explain why she’d left so abruptly. She was never going to tell Nate that part.

They’d finally reached a point over these past four weeks where there wasn’t constant sexual tension between them. On occasion, their eyes would meet and Hallie could feel the heat between them. But for the most part they’d been working extremely well together as a team.

Now that Ahn was showing signs of progress, Hallie didn’t want Nate all freaked out over something random Janet had said. Especially not after she’d seen the expression on Nate’s face earlier. He’d looked as if he were ready to bolt, like the old Nate who always kept his distance.

“Don’t you realize what this means? We’re doing something right, Nate. Finally, Ahn’s showing some emotion.”

“Sounds like we’ve all had an emotional morning,” he said as he pulled into the parking lot.

He got out without expounding any further on that comment. And again, instinct told Hallie to back off. If Nate wanted to tell her what he meant, he would.

She sighed, and opened her door, too. By the time she got out of the Rover, Nate already had Ahn in the crook of his arm, the diaper bag on his shoulder, and was heading for the entrance. He didn’t look back to see if she was coming. And he didn’t wait for her to catch up.

Hallie stood there for a second with her hands on her hips.
And this,
Hallie thought,
is what married with children would be like.

She shuddered and followed.

Nate hadn’t realized how much he missed his freedom until he was sitting at the nursing home with his mother. Then finding Hallie waiting for him to feed Ahn her lunch had only made him feel more trapped.

Going out for pizza was at least a change.

Nate would take what he could get.

He returned to the table, high chair in tow. As soon as Hallie got Ahn settled, she began looking around, checking things out. Nate hoped she wouldn’t show off the new tricks she’d learned. Laughing was one thing. But that unexpected high-pitched scream had scared the living crap out of him.

Funny how this little slice of domesticity also scared the crap out of him.

He was losing his edge. Letting other people suck the life right out of him. Hallie. Ahn. His mother. Everywhere he turned, someone was depending on him. He was beginning to feel the same way he had after his father died.

As if the whole world were sitting on his shoulders.

“What do you think about spinach and cheese for Ahn?” Hallie asked. “That would give her a vegetable.”

“You decide,” Nate told her.

“Do you want to split a supreme with me?”

“Sure.” Who cared what kind of pizza they ate? Or Ahn ate? These weren’t life-and-death decisions.

A pimple-faced kid with a phony smile on his face came to take their order. Hallie spoke to the waiter and then looked at Nate. “What do you want to drink?”

“Just pick something,” Nate said. “Coke. Water. Whatever.” He didn’t even pay attention to what she got him.

“I didn’t realize until today how far behind Ahn is compared to other children her age. She doesn’t even try to interact with other children, Nate. The entire time we were there she never even looked in their direction.”

“She’s been tested, Hallie,” Nate said with more than a hint of groan in his voice. “There’s nothing physically wrong with her.”

She looked at Ahn again and so did Nate. She was slowly tearing the wrapper off one of the crayons the waiter had given her instead of coloring on the coloring sheet.

It was the same thing she had done at a session with Deb. The doctor’s explanation for the behavior was that Ahn had the tendency to focus on small things she could manage. Tiny pieces of paper, for instance, rather than a whole sheet of paper that was overwhelming for her.

Maybe that was his problem, too.

Everything was becoming too overwhelming for him.

“Nate, I hate to even say this—”

“Then don’t. Let’s just sit here, eat in peace, then we’ll go back to the house.”

Her angry expression said he’d pushed her too far.

“I have a better idea, Nate. Why don’t you sit here and eat your pizza in peace. Ahn and I will go back to the house. And you can find your own way back after you get rid of whatever bug it is that you suddenly have up your ass!”

She held out her hand for his keys at the same time the kid came back to the table with their drinks. It gave Nate the time he needed for a quick attitude adjustment.

“I’m sorry,” he said when the kid walked away. “I’m being a real jerk and I know it. I went to see my mother this morning and it left me in a crappy mood.”

The anger faded from her eyes. “How is she?”

“The same,” Nate said. “But every bad memory I thought I’d forgotten came flooding back the second I stepped into her room. I apologize for taking all that out on you.”

She smiled slightly. “I wish I didn’t know how hard it is to have bad memories of your parents, but I do. My father didn’t have Alzheimer’s disease, but he might as well have, for all the attention he paid to Janet and me. I’ve often wondered if that’s why he married my mother’s best friend only three months after our mother died. He wanted a strong no-nonsense woman who would dominate our lives so he would never have to deal with us again.”

“I didn’t realize you had that type of relationship with your father,” Nate admitted. “Or that Roberta had been your mother’s best friend.”

“Do you think our parents are the reason you and I are so screwed up?”

Nate was surprised by her comment. “You really think we’re screwed up?”

“Most people would say so. We don’t feel the need to be in a relationship, much less get married. We’re committed to our careers. Any friends we have are casual, not long-term. Shall I continue?”

“Are you saying you agree?”

“No,” she said. “I think you and I are self-sufficient people who happen to have bad memories about our parents. And I don’t think it’s fair to blame our parents for anything. Look at David and Janet compared to you and me. We had the same upbringing. And we all had the same choices to make about how we lived our lives. You and I simply made different choices than they did.”

“You’re basically telling me to put the bad memories behind me and get over it.”

“No,” she said. “I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the bug that put you in such a bad mood.”

Nate smiled at her. “You think you’re pretty clever, don’t you?”

Hallie smiled back. “Just one kindred spirit trying to talk another off the ledge, that’s all.”

They kept staring at each other.

Longer than they needed to be staring at each other.

Fortunately the arrival of the food saved them.

“Okay,” she said, changing the subject. “Work your magic. See if you can get Miss Priss to eat her spinach.”

Nate reached out and placed a slice of the spinach and cheese on a plate, cut it into small pieces, then waved his hand over the plate until it cooled. Ahn watched his every move the entire time.

“Pizza,” Nate told her. “Can you say pizza?”

Ahn looked down at the plate, then back up at him.

“Try it,” Nate encouraged. “If you don’t like it, we’ll get you something else.”

Still, Ahn made no move toward the plate.

Nate put a slice on a plate for Hallie and handed it over. “Can you say pizza, Hallie?”

Hallie played along. “Pizza.” She took a bite and said, “Mmm. Very good. Thank you, Nate.”

“I think I’ll have some myself,” Nate said.

But he and Hallie were on their second slice before Ahn finally put a piece into her mouth. When she reached for the second piece, Nate looked across the table to find Hallie smiling at him.

“We really are making progress, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” she said. “We are.”

“And us?” Nate said. “We’re good now, right?”

“Yes. We’re good now.”