Carly's Gift (38 page)

Barbara got up and put her arms around Carly. “And all this time I've been blaming myself for staying with Frank when I knew what kind of man he was. If I had left him when you were a baby—”

“Please don't, Mom. You couldn't have known what he would do.”

“He was a mean drunk, Carly. I've asked myself a hundred times if I went to that meeting just to get away from him, hoping he'd be passed out when I got home.”

Carly was nearly choking on her own guilt, she couldn't handle her mother's, too. “None of it matters now, Mom. We have more important things to think about.”

Barbara stared at Carly long and hard as if assessing her stability. “You're right,” she finally said. “But we're not through with this.”

Carly nodded and reached up to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“Do you want me to pick the boys up from school and bring them over here?” Wally asked.

“Maybe that would be better,” Carly told him. “That way I can get Ethan to come home early. I'm scared to death someone else is going to get to him first.”

Thirty-three

Gathering the sheer
curtain in her hand, Carly pulled it aside to look out the front window. If Ethan had left immediately after talking to her, he should have been home fifteen minutes ago. It was too soon to worry that he might have gotten in an accident, but not that someone might have called him to let him in on the “news.”

On the way home from her mother's Carly had tried to concentrate on how and what she would tell Ethan, but she couldn't get Andrea out of her mind long enough to form a cohesive idea. She couldn't let go of the thought that she'd failed her daughter. What had ever made her think emotional blackmail would work on Hallie Strong? Carly should have pleaded with her grandmother, and then if necessary, gone down on her knees and begged.

The ever-optimistic Wally had suggested they try to use the publicity that would come from the reopened investigation to get people to go in for HLA typing. Carly had smiled and told him she thought it was a great idea. She didn't have the heart to point out how few people would follow through no matter how good their intention.

So far, Carly had been the one who'd come the closest to matching Andrea; only it wasn't like a game of horseshoes where close counted for something. Without a perfect match, the chances for rejection and failure rose dramatically.

Carly had released the curtain and started to turn from the window when Ethan pulled into the driveway. As if on cue, her temple started to throb again. Even after all the turmoil and hard feelings they had been through, she found her heart breaking for him. His world was about to fall apart as surely as he would help it along.

She opened the door as he stepped on the porch, searching his face for a sign that someone else had gotten to him first. All she saw was a look of irritation at being called home two and a half hours before quitting time.

He stepped inside, dropped his briefcase beside the hall table, shrugged out of his jacket, and hung it on the newel post. “God, it's hot out there,” he said, loosening his tie.

“I made some iced tea.”

“I'd rather have a beer, if we've got any cold.”

“I'll put one in the freezer.” A hysterical laugh began to build over the completely ordinary conversation they were having while their lives were falling apart around them.

“No, don't bother.” He tossed his tie on top of his jacket. “The tea's okay.”

She headed for the kitchen. He followed.

“Now, what's so important it couldn't wait until tonight,” he said, pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down.

Where should she begin? “I went to see my Grandmother Hallie today.”

“I thought you two—” He hesitated. “Oh, I get it. You wanted to see if you could get her to go in for testing.”

“Actually, it was my uncles John and Steve that Dr. Reardon thought might be Andrea's best possibilities.” The day she'd asked to see the good doctor in private to explain Andrea's genetic background was the first time she'd seen a crack in his rigid facade. Carly gave Ethan his tea and sat down across from him.

“But I thought you said the family ties had to be at least a generation closer.”

She swallowed. Why in the hell couldn't she just come out and say it? What was the sense of coming at it from every way but straight on? “John and Steve are Andrea's uncles.”

He frowned. “You mean great-uncles.”

“No,” she said softly. “My father was also Andrea's father.”

“That's impossible. David is—” As understanding hit Ethan, the confusion turned to revulsion. “You mean to tell me you were sleeping with David and your own father, too?”

She was too stunned to answer immediately. It had never occurred to her that he might put that particular perverted interpretation on what she would tell him. Disappointment bore deeply in her chest, the pain stealing her breath. “He raped me,” she said, feeling as if it had just happened to her all over again.

There was a long pause. “Jesus Christ,” Ethan said, “why didn't you tell me?” There wasn't a glimmer of apology in his look or manner for having jumped to the wrong conclusion.

“I didn't tell anyone,” she said, a profound weariness coming over her. “I couldn't. If anyone found out, my mother would have been tried for murder. They would have arrested Wally, and probably me, too, on conspiracy.”

“Barbara shot him? But I thought he—”

Carly could see a spark of understanding as he began to fill the details in for himself. She decided to let him work it out on his own.

“She came home, saw what had happened, and killed him,” he supplied several seconds later.

“It was my idea to try to make it look like he'd committed suicide. I couldn't bear the idea that she would be put in jail for trying to help me.”

“And with Wally's cooperation you pulled it off.”

“Yes.”

“He must have been in love with your mother even back then.”

His words hit like a baseball bat. If Ethan's first thought was that Wally had acted out of self-interest, what chance did they have in a courtroom? “Why do you say that?”

“What other reason could there be?”

“Compassion?”

“Don't make me laugh. No one sticks his neck out that far without self-interest goading him.”

“That's a specious thing to say.”

Ethan eyed her. “So after all this time, why take me into your confidence now? What makes you think you can trust me any more today than you could back then?”

“The choice of who I tell or don't was taken out of my hands today. By tomorrow everyone will know.” She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I made the mistake of trying to outmaneuver my grandmother Hallie by showing her proof that her son was Andrea's father. I thought she would do anything to keep me quiet.”

“ ‘Anything' meaning making John and Steve get tested.”

“Yes.”

“But she decided going after you and Barbara would be more satisfying.”

“I don't know how I could have been so wrong.”

“Wait a minute,” Ethan said, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Wait just a fuckin' minute. What you're really telling me is that you let Andrea go off to live with David when you knew he wasn't her father. That's what this is all about, isn't it?”

Finally, it was out in the open. “If you recall, you didn't leave me much choice. Either I let it be known who Andrea's father really was, or I let her go. I did the only thing I could.”

“I don't believe this. Does David know?” He threw his hands up in the air. “What a stupid question. Of course he knows.”

“Not who Andrea's real father is.”

“But he sure as hell knows it's not him. Or have you had him dancing at the end of your string all this time, too?”

“He's aware Andrea isn't his,” she admitted.

Ethan sat very still for what seemed like an eternity. “And he still took her home to live with him. Well, I guess I don't have to ask why.”

“Don't make this worse than it is,” she said.

Ethan let out a long, bitter laugh. “I just found out my wife gave her firstborn to her ex-lover to keep from telling me a secret she knew goddamn well I'd never tell, and you have the guts to say that to me?” He fixed her with a look of pure hatred. “How do you think it makes me feel knowing you trusted David more than you did me? After all we've been through together, after Shawn and Eric, this house, the bed we've shared upstairs for almost eighteen fuckin' years—and you tell me not to make it worse than it is?”

“I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Ethan.”

“That's not good enough.”

“Well, it's the best I can do. I don't know what else to say.”

“It doesn't matter. There isn't anything you could say that would make a difference. You betrayed me, Carly. You gave David the trust and loyalty that should have been mine. I earned it, goddamn it. There's no way in hell I'll ever get over that.”

“David had nothing to do with it. I was protecting Andrea. I would have done anything to keep her from finding out who her real father was.”

“I want you out of this house. Tonight. If I never see you again, it will be too soon.”

“You don't mean that.”

“The hell I don't. As far as I'm concerned, David is welcome to you. The two of you deserve each other.”

“All right,” she said, too tired to fight him any longer. “The boys and I will be with my mother until I can find a place of our own.”

“Shawn and Eric stay with me.”

She caught her breath in surprise. “I'll fight you on this, Ethan,” she warned, her fear giving her renewed strength.

“And you'll lose,” he said with a sickening sweetness. “What court would turn two impressionable boys over to a mother who was an accessory to murder?”

Thirty-four

Carly swung her
feet over the side of the bed, glanced at the clock on the nightstand, and let out a groan of frustration. It was eight-fifteen and she'd promised herself she'd get up early to phone David. She'd thought about calling before she went to bed, but knew it would be impossible to keep what she was feeling out of her voice. David's job was to be in a positive mood for Andrea—hard enough, considering the circumstances. The last thing he needed was Carly making it harder.

She dug through her purse, took out the phone number at the hospital, and punched the buttons. After several minutes she was connected with the sister in charge of Andrea's care.

“How is she today?” Carly asked, her eyes closed, her body tense in preparation of the answer.

“Pretty much the same as yesterday, Mrs. Hargrove. We've upped her lipids a bit to try to get some weight back on her and she seems to be tolerating the change just fine.”

“Is someone with her now?”

“I believe Mr. Armstrong is still there. He's been quite good about staying most of the afternoon until Mr. Montgomery comes in to take over again. Between the two of them, our girl is hardly ever alone. And then Mrs. Montgomery has been popping in several times a day, too. She doesn't stay long, but always brings a cheery bit of something with her.”

“From the looks of it, I won't be getting back there as quickly as I'd hoped.” The words felt as if they'd been torn from her.

“I'm sure that won't be the most welcome news, but Andrea's not one to begrudge her mum a couple more days' holiday after all you've been through.”

“Would you tell her I called? And Mr. Montgomery?”

“I will. And I'll tell our girl you've sent her a big kiss and hug, too.”

“Thank you,” Carly said.

“Well, I'd best ring off now and see to my job.”