Borrowed Dreams (Debbie Macomber Classics) (18 page)

“You have a lovely home, Kay.” Carly tried again, knowing how difficult this meeting was for the older woman.

“Thank you. I do my best.” The words were polite.

Carly swallowed tightly and looked at Brand. He was pensive, sad. He must have felt her gaze because he gave her a reassuring smile. But it didn’t fool Carly. She knew what he was thinking.

“Are there parks in Anchorage?” Shawn wanted to know.

“Lots of them,” Brand confirmed.

“Are there any close to where we’re going to live?”

“Not real close,” Carly answered. “Farther than walking distance. But there’s a big backyard in the house we’re renting and I think we can probably persuade your dad to put up a swing set.”

“Really?” Sara’s blue eyes became round as saucers. “Grandma doesn’t like us to play on her lawn.”

“Children ruin the grass,” Kay announced in starched tones. “So I take Shawn and Sara to the park.”

“Almost every day,” Sara added.

“How nice of your grandma to do that for you.” Brand’s mother had obviously tried hard to give the children a good home.

“I’ll be sending a list of instructions with Shawn and Sara,” Kay said, her eyes avoiding Carly’s. “It’s quite extensive, but I feel the transition from Oregon to Alaska will be much smoother for them if you follow my advice.”

“Mother, I don’t think—”

“That was thoughtful of you,” Carly said, interrupting her husband. “I’ll be pleased to read them over. Mothering is new to me, and I’ll admit I have lots to learn.”

“I’m finished now, Grandma,” Shawn said eagerly. “Can I go brush my teeth?”

“Say it properly,” Kay St. Clair ordered.

“May I be excused, please?”

A small smile of pride cracked the tight lines of the older woman’s face. “Yes, you may be excused. Very good, Shawn.”

“May I be excused, too?” Sara requested.

“Excused,”
Kay corrected. “Say it again.”

“Excu … excused.” Sara beamed proudly at having managed the difficult word.

“Yes. Both of you brush your teeth and then you can see what your father brought you.”

“Carly brought the gifts.” Brand corrected the intended slight.

Her meal was practically untouched when Carly set her fork aside. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get the gifts from my suitcase.” She didn’t wait for Kay’s permission, although she had the
suspicion that it was expected of her.

The edge of the mattress sank with her weight as Carly covered her face with her hands. This meeting with Kay St. Clair was so much worse than she’d anticipated.

“We brushed our teeth.” Shawn and Sara stood in the open doorway, startling her.

Carly forced herself to smile. “Then I bet you’re ready for your presents.”

They both nodded with wide-eyed eagerness.

Carly took out the two decoratively wrapped packages from inside her suitcase and handed them to Shawn and Sara.

They sank to the floor and ripped off the ribbon and paper with a speed that was amazing.

“A doll,” Sara cried, her young voice filled with happy delight. “I’ve always, always wanted one just like this.” Two young arms circled Carly’s neck and hugged her close.

Carly squeezed her fondly in return. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Wow.” Shawn’s eyes were wide as he leafed through the picture book about the Alaskan mountains. “Thank you.”

“Can we show Grandma?” Sara wanted to know.

“Of course.” Carly followed them into the living room and noted again the censure in Kay St. Clair’s eyes as she examined the gifts.

“I never did approve of those dolls.” She spoke to her son, but the slight was meant for Carly.

Indecision flared in Brand’s eyes. He was as confused and unsure as Carly.

“Daddy said you were going to be our new mother. Can I call you Mom?” Sara asked, tugging at Carly’s pants leg.

“If you like.”

Kay St. Clair’s mouth narrowed into a tight line.

“Maybe you should call me Carly,” she added hurriedly.

Brand brought Sara onto his knee. “You do what’s the most comfortable for you.”

“But I thought we already had a mom.”

“You did,” Kay St. Clair inserted coolly. “But she died.”

“I think I’ll call you Carly,” Shawn stated thoughtfully, after a long pause.

“If that’s what makes you most comfortable.” Carly responded as best she could under the circumstances. In one foster home where she’d lived, the parents had insisted she call them
Mother and Father. Half the time the words had stuck in her throat. She wouldn’t be offended if Shawn chose to call her by her first name.

“I think I’ll call you Mom,” Sara said from her father’s knee. “I don’t remember my other mommy.”

“Sure you do, Sara,” Kay St. Clair said sharply.

“All I can remember is that she smelled funny and she didn’t have any hair.”

A pained look flickered in Brand’s eyes, one so fleeting that for a moment Carly thought she’d imagined it. But when he spoke, the pain in his voice confirmed the sadness in his eyes.

“That was the smell of the hospital and all her medicine,” Brand explained carefully. “She lost her hair because the doctors were doing everything they could to make her well again. One of those treatments was called chemotherapy.”

“And it made all her hair come out?” Two pairs of serious blue eyes studied Brand.

He nodded. “But your mother had real pretty hair. Just like yours, Sara.”

The small face wrinkled in deep thought. “I wish I could remember her better.”

“I do too, sweetheart,” Brand murmured tenderly, holding his daughter in his arms.

Standing outside the circle of this poignant family group, Carly felt a brooding sense of distance, of separation. These three—four, if she included Brand’s mother—were a family in themselves. The breath caught in her lungs as she watched them. All the emotional insecurities of her childhood reared up, haunting her, confronting her with the unpleasant realities of this marriage.

Again, just as she had been as a child, she was on the outside looking in. She belonged, and yet she didn’t. She wasn’t part of the family but separate. Any love and attention she’d received when growing up had always been what was left over from that given to the family’s real children. She wasn’t Brand’s first wife but his second. And clearly a poor second, judging from his mother’s reaction after meeting her.

“If you’ll excuse me, I’d like to lie down.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. She avoided Brand’s eyes as she turned toward the bedroom.

Her heart was pounding so hard and fast that by the time she reached the bed she all but fell onto the soft mattress. Everything she’d dreaded and feared was happening. And the worst part of it was she could do nothing to change what was going on around her.

When she heard Brand’s footsteps, Carly closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep. He
hesitated in the doorway—before turning away.

Carly didn’t know how long she stared at the ceiling. The muted sounds coming from the bedroom next to hers distracted her troubled thoughts. As much as she wanted to hide, Carly knew she couldn’t stay in the bedroom for the entire weekend.

After combing her hair, she added blush to her cheeks. If she didn’t, Brand was sure to comment on how pale she looked.

As she walked past Sara’s room, Carly paused and glanced inside. The little girl was sitting on top of her mattress. A jewelry box was open in front of her, and whatever was inside commanded her attention.

“Hi.”

“Hi … Mom.” Sara looked up and spoke with a shy smile.

“What are you looking at?”

“Pictures of my other mommy.”

Carly’s heart plummeted. She was a fool to believe that Sandra wouldn’t haunt her. Borrowed dreams were all the future held. Another woman’s husband. Another woman’s children.

“Would you like to see?”

Some perverse curiosity demanded that Carly look. Sitting on the bed beside the sweet, blond-haired child, she examined each color print.

“My hair is like hers, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” The strangled sound that came from Carly’s throat made Sara turn and stare at her.

“She was real pretty, too,” Shawn said from the hallway. “Sometimes she sprayed on perfume and smelled good.” Shawn seemed to want to correct his sister’s memory.

“Did she read to us?” Sara inquired softly. “Like Grandma does sometimes?”

“Yup. Don’t you remember, Sara? Don’t you remember anything?”

Carly couldn’t stand much more of this. She was certain the children didn’t often talk about their mother. Brand’s presence had resurrected these curious memories. The pain it caused her to listen to them speak about Sandra was beyond description. She couldn’t take their mother away from them, but she wasn’t sure that she could live in the shadow of Sandra’s memory.

“I think I’ll go find your father,” Carly said, hiding behind a cheerful façade.

“He’s talking to Grandma on the patio,” Shawn provided. “We’re supposed to be resting.” He added that second fact with a hint of indignation. “Second-graders shouldn’t have to take naps,” he mumbled under his breath just loud enough for Carly to hear. “When we come and live with you and Dad, I won’t have to, will I?”

Carly ruffled the top of his blond head. “No,” she whispered. “But don’t say anything to your grandmother.”

Shawn’s wide eyes sparkled and they shared a conspiratorial smile.

“When are we moving to Anchor … Alaska?” Sara asked, tucking the pictures back inside the jewelry box.

“Three weeks.” Hardly any time at all, Carly realized. Certainly not enough to settle the horrible doubts she was facing.

“Will you read to us and tell us stories?”

Carly stared blankly at the pair. “If you like.”

“Goody.” Sara clapped her hands gleefully.

“Shh,” Shawn warned. “Grandma will hear.”

Raised voices on the patio outside stopped Carly halfway through the kitchen. Brand and his mother were in the middle of a heated exchange. Their voices struggled to remain calm and composed. Carly doubted that Brand’s mother ever shouted.

“But you hardly know her,” Kay returned, with an uncharacteristic quiver that revealed how upset she was.

“I know everything that’s necessary. Carly’s given me back a life I thought I’d lost when Sandra died.” There was an exasperated appeal in the way Brand spoke.

“There was no need to remarry so soon. Certainly you could have found someone more suitable,” Kay St. Clair said, as she examined the rose bushes that grew in abundance around the patio.

Carly stood next to the sliding glass door, but neither was aware of her presence.

“I wish you’d give her a chance, Mother. Carly’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t I deserve a little happiness? Shawn and Sara …”

“That brings up another matter,” his mother interrupted crisply. “How can you possibly think Carly is a proper replacement for the care I’ve given Shawn and Sara? When I told you I wanted to relax and travel for a time, I assumed you’d hire a housekeeper. I had no idea you’d
marry the first woman to turn you on.”

Brand’s jaw went white and he seemed to struggle with his anger. The lines that were etched out from his eyes relayed the effort it took. There was a silent, dangerous glare in his eyes. “Carly is everything I’ve ever hoped to find in a woman.”

Slowly, deliberately, Brand’s mother shook her head with disapproval. “Can’t you see that she’s trying to bribe the children? Bringing them presents, telling them about a swing set. Really, Brand. And her family …”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Brand’s tight expression grew grim.

“Honestly, son, sometimes you can be so blind.” Kay cut a delicate rosebud from the flowering bush. “I don’t mean to sound crass when I say that Carly is hardly the type of woman that men marry.”

Shock waves tumbled through Carly. Her hand reached for the kitchen counter to steady herself. Her knees felt so weak that she thought for a moment that she might collapse. In all her life no one had ever said anything that could hurt her more. With an attitude that bordered on the fanatical, she’d tried desperately not to be anything like her mother. Anger and outrage seared her mind.

Brand looked as if he was about to explode.

Stepping onto the patio, Carly tilted her head at a proud angle. “You will apologize for that comment, Mrs. St. Clair.”

Carly didn’t know who was more shocked: Brand or his mother.

Kay was obviously flustered, but to her credit recovered quickly and cleared her throat. “It’s often been said that people who listen in on conversations don’t hear good things about themselves.”

Brand moved to Carly’s side and slipped an arm around her waist, bringing her close to him. “You owe us both an apology, Mother.”

Carly didn’t want him to touch her but hadn’t the strength to escape him. She felt stiff and brittle. Her heart was pounding so loud, she was convinced the whole city could hear it.

Kay St. Clair conceded. “Perhaps. Only time will prove what I say. Until then, I can only offer my regrets for any thoughtlessness on my part.” Without a hint of remorse, she returned her attention to the rosebush.

Brand took Carly’s hand and pulled her into the kitchen. “Let’s get out of here,” he
insisted. “I won’t have you subjected to this.”

“No.” Her throat worked convulsively. “We can’t.”

“Oh, yes we can.” He raked a hand through his hair, his voice tight with impatience. “You don’t have to take this from anyone. Least of all, my mother.”

Gently, Carly shook her head. “She loves you, and she loves Shawn and Sara. I’m a stranger who’s invaded her world. And I’m not carrying the proper credentials.”

“Carly.” Brand frowned, unsure.

“I understand her better than you think,” Carly whispered. “If we leave now, the situation will be unbearable for Shawn and Sara.”

“We could take them with us,” Brand argued.

“And cause an even greater rift between you and your mother? Taking the children now would be heartless. She loves them, Brand.”

“But she’s hurt you, and I won’t stand for that.” His eyes roved over her face.

“Your mother’s doubts and mistrusts are natural.”

Brand’s fingers bit into her upper arms. “Don’t make excuses for her.”