Every Kiss (24 page)

“Eve, I know I shouldn’t have gotten myself mixed up in all
of your family matters, and I apologize for crossing the line. If I tell her
that I can’t help her, I get the impression that she won’t push the issue, but
part of me thinks he needs this. It’s clearly none of my business, though. I
just need your advice. You tell me how you want me to handle it, and that’s
exactly what I’ll do.”

“Callie, you can’t tell anyone this, but I’m the one who
gave her Wesley’s address.”

“You? But why?” If he ever found that out, he’d be pissed.

“Like you, I think he needs the closure. He needs to hear
what she has to say, but I know he won’t listen to anyone. That’s a decision he
needs to make on his own. I thought that if she showed up there, then he’d be
forced into it. But of course, he wasn’t home when she went by there, and I
think the gift on his doorstep freaked him out.”

It sure did. I saw him before and after, and “freaked out”
doesn’t quite do it justice. “So maybe Chesley should talk to you about this.
Maybe the two of you could set something up, so I don’t have to be involved at
all.”

“
No
, Callie,” she stresses. “Wes can’t know I’m a
part of this. He’ll look at it like I’m trying to push him on her, like
I
don’t want him anymore. You can imagine what that will do to him. To me, Wesley
is
my
son, not hers, and I don’t love the idea of him having any sort of
a relationship with her. But I also have a feeling that it could be healing for
him. I think you should meet up with her. Talk to her, talk to Wes, and see if
you can make some kind of breakthrough with him. He’ll listen to you. He won’t
give you any idea that he’s listening, but he will be. It may not turn out for
the best in the end, but like I said, closure could make such a difference with
him.”

I expected her to tell me to ignore Chesley’s email or to
tell her I won’t be a part of it. I never ever expected her to tell me to go
for it. She’s been his mother for . . . well, I don’t know how long, but long
enough that he considers her to be his mom. I’m shocked that she’s actually
pushing for him to see the woman who gave him up. “You’re sure about this?”

“Absolutely. But that doesn’t mean this is something you
have
to do. I just think that you’re the only one that might convince him to do it.
It’s your call, Callie, and whatever you decide, you have my support.”

“Well, I might have
your
support, but I know I won’t
have his. Wes already doesn’t want to speak to me again, so I can only imagine
what he’ll do when he finds out I’ve spoken to her.”

She blows out a breath. “You know why he doesn’t want
anything to do with you, right?”

“Yeah. He’s running again.”

“Exactly. Just think about that. I need to go referee, so
let me know what you decide, okay, sweetheart?”

Whatever I decide to do, I have a strong feeling that,
either way, there will be consequences that I may not want to deal with. The
lesser of the two evils—ignoring her—isn’t going to be beneficial to Wes, but
trying to push them together could be hazardous to my own health. Wes is going
to
strangle
me.

But who am I kidding? As much as I’d like to question it, I
already know exactly what I’m going to do.

MONDAYS. I HATE them.

So it’s only fitting that I agree to meet with Wesley’s
biological mother on a Monday, just to make it completely horrible. I’m
drowning my reluctance in coffee, but unfortunately, the overdose of caffeine
has put me more on edge than normal. I keep telling myself that I’m doing this
for Wes. I’m doing this so that he has a chance at happiness. I know I’m
sacrificing the chance for
us
to be together, simply because he’s going
to be infuriated with me, but a true friend has to be the martyr sometimes.

The bell hanging over the coffee shop door jingles, and I
inwardly cringe, looking up from my mug. Chesley looks pretty today in her
floral print dress and sandals. Her short hair is curled neatly and swept back
from her face with a lavender headband. As soon as her eyes meet mine, I can
see that I’m not the only nervous one.

She smiles sweetly and approaches my table at the back
corner of the shop. “Nice to see you again, Callie. Thank you for meeting with
me.”

“You, too. I won’t lie, though . . . it wasn’t an easy
decision to make. And I’m still worried that it might come back to bite me.
Hard.”

“The fact that you’re here tells me that you care about
Wesley.” She drops into the seat across from me, declining the waitress’ offer
to take her order. “I’m glad to know that there’s someone in his life that
cares enough to want to protect him. I know this can’t be easy for you, Callie,
and I hate to drag you into my mess. I just don’t know who else to turn to.”

“I know.” I look down at her wringing hands, her skin a deep
shade of pink from constantly twisting and squeezing. “Before I agree to help
you any more after today, I have to know for sure that talking to you will be
beneficial to him, that it won’t hurt him worse than he’s already hurt. I’m
sure you can understand that.”

“Sure, I absolutely do. But what do you mean by hurt?”

“Forgive me for being blunt, but I don’t know any other way
to say it. Do you honestly think that knowing his mother didn’t want him makes
him feel all warm and fuzzy inside? That’s a wound so deep and infected that
it’s altered his entire course through life. Twice in his life, two of the most
important people to him walked away, so now he doesn’t believe that anyone
could ever love him enough to stay with him. He believes that he isn’t worthy
and that he’s unlovable. And because of that, he comes across that way to
people. He pushes people away before he can ever get attached.”

Her eyes are brimmed with unshed tears, and a frown mars her
thin lips. “I—I made him that way? Oh, God. There wasn’t ever a time that I
didn’t want him. Not even one second. Eve is a much better person than I could
ever be, so I’ve told myself all along that he’s been better off. I never
thought for a minute that I even crossed his mind. I have to make it right.
Even if he won’t ever talk to me, Callie, you have to tell him that he’s
wrong.”

“It’s much more complicated than that. I don’t understand
how you wanted him but didn’t stay with him. I’m sure he’s going to question
that, too.”

A long exhale escapes her lips, her body slumping slightly
as the air leaves her slight frame. “I know I told you that I’d answer any
questions you have, but no one knows the answer to that question except for me
and my parents. Not even Robert and Eve have known all these years why I’ve
never been a part of Wesley’s life. There are a couple of reasons why, but it
all started with my parents. They were very strictly religious and prominent
members of their church, and they were opposed to Robert at the first mention
of him. When we met, I was only sixteen, and even though they promised I could
date at that age, they had major issues with me dating a seventeen year old. In
fact, they were so opposed that we had to sneak around to see each other for an
entire year. I was seventeen when I found out I was pregnant with Wesley.”

This sounds somewhat similar to what Wesley went through
with his wife. “Were you still in high school?”

“Yes, I was about to begin my senior year. Morning sickness
made its not-so-graceful appearance on the first day of school, so I spent most
of the day racing to the bathroom. When I saw Robert that night, I couldn’t
keep it a secret from him any longer. He knew. And once I finally admitted it
to him, he was ecstatic, but I had a feeling he would be. It was too soon, but
it was the family we’d always wanted . . . dreamed about. We kept quiet about
it until I was four months along. That’s when I told my parents . . . a day
I’ll never forget. They listened quietly, and I was shocked that they didn’t
have much to say about it. I just almost thought they’d be understanding for
once. But when my dad stood and took his belt off, I knew there wouldn’t ever
be hope for me and the baby inside of me. He beat me with that leather strap
until his arm was too weak to lift it again. My legs were so raw and swollen
that I could hardly walk for a few days. That next Sunday in church, my parents
dragged me up to the front and told the entire congregation that I was a whore,
and they made me confess that I was carrying a bastard child.”

“That’s horrible,” I choke out through my unexpected
emotion. “I can’t imagine my parents ever treating me that way. Well, I can’t
imagine
any
parent being that way.”

Chesley wipes away a solitary tear trailing down her cheek.
“It was really bad for a few months. They promised that if they ever found out
I even spoke to Robert again that they’d press charges for statutory rape, and
they continued to threaten that until the day I went into labor. It was a month
too early, but I started having contractions at school, so the school nurse
called my mom and told her that I needed to go to the hospital. She refused to
take me, telling the nurse that if I was woman enough to spread my legs for a
man, I could use them to walk myself to the hospital. I called Robert, and he
was there within a few minutes. He didn’t leave my side until the moment my
parents showed up the next morning. He took the baby back to the nursery,
telling me that he’d come back after my parents and I had a chance to talk.
That’s the last time I saw Wesley.”

“He left with him? He’s the one that wouldn’t let Wesley see
you?”

“Oh, no. Robert was a wonderful man, even at that age. He
wanted us to be a family, and he was willing to do whatever he had to in order
to make it work. The reason I never saw him again was because of my parents. My
dad told me that the doctors found out that I was an unwed mother, and that
they wanted me out of their hospital immediately. My mom walked out of the
room, saying that she was going to go get Wesley from the nursery, and my dad
helped me to the car. I was young and scared and incredibly naïve. I didn’t
know what to do. After a few minutes, my mom jumped into the car without the
baby, and they drove me away without explanation. We drove for two days until
we reached my grandparents’ house in California. They told me that Robert’s
family would care for Wesley, and that if I ever tried to contact them or go
back, they’d press charges against him and see that Wesley ended up in an
orphanage.”

Just like the first day I met her, I notice the years of
heartache and worry on her face. Every wrinkle tells the same story; every line
shows the deep regret she’s lived with every day since Wes was born. I truly
believe that she never would’ve walked away if it wasn’t for her awful parents.
I don’t even know them, and they disgust me. It wasn’t necessarily Chesley that
caused Wesley’s years of hurt . . . it was his grandparents. “I can’t imagine
what you went through. I don’t understand how your parents could be so
narrow-minded and shallow. He’s their grandchild.”

She shakes her head. “No, they would never admit that. I
cried for weeks. I couldn’t eat or sleep. I tried to run away, but my dad
caught me and started locking me in the basement at night, so I couldn’t sneak
out. After several months of listening to their threats, I’m ashamed to admit
that I gave up trying. I was defeated and exhausted. Finally, after nearly two
years, my parents started letting me out of the house for church. That’s where
I met my husband. I told him what had happened with Wesley, and he helped me to
get away from my parents by marrying me. We planned to divorce after a while,
but we ended up falling in love and I stayed with him until he passed away five
years ago. I haven’t seen my parents since the day I was married.”

I take a sip of my coffee, which has now turned cold. “So
why didn’t you try to contact Robert after you got away from your parents? I’m
sure your husband would’ve understood that.”

“I did,” she admits. “I guess Wesley was about four years
old by the time I got up the nerve to track him down, but I couldn’t be a
coward and call Robert. I wanted to tell him face-to-face why I disappeared,
and I knew I probably had to do some damage control because I didn’t know what
my parents had told him. I found out that he and Eve had just gotten married
and moved into a home near his parents. When I drove up that day, Robert and
Eve were outside pushing Wesley in a swing. They were all laughing and happy.
They looked like the perfect family, and I knew that I would steal that away
from them if I got out of my car. So I left and didn’t try to make contact
again until a few months ago when I called Eve and explained everything to
her.”

Wait a minute. So Eve has known for a few weeks why Chesley
left? I understand why she doesn’t want Wes to know she is pushing them
together, but this news changes things a little. Chesley never wanted to leave
him at all. Surely, he’d be able to understand that Eve only wants to help
Chesley clear the air, not push him away. Well, this is Wes I’m talking about,
after all.

“So what gave you the courage to call Eve and tell her the
story?”

A grim line forms on her lips and she looks up from her lap,
her eyes focused intently on mine. “I’m dying. I feel like it’s something I
need to do before I leave this world, to let him know how much I love him. How
much I’ll always love him. The cancer is just too widespread, and the doctors
can’t do anything more for me. I just need one chance to talk to him, even if
he can never forgive me. Just knowing that I was able to look him in the face
one time and tell him I love him . . . it’s all I need. If he never gives me
that chance, then I guess I deserve it. But I have to try.”

No, she doesn’t deserve it, which is exactly why I have to
make sure she succeeds.

AFTER CHATTING WITH Chesley for a
few hours, I find myself walking through those heavy glass doors of Wes’ office
building. I have no idea how I’m going to explain why he needs to listen to me,
why he needs to meet the woman that he absolutely refuses to speak to me about.
Hell, right now, he’s refusing to even speak to
me
, so I’m not quite
sure what reaction to expect from him. I just know that, either way, it’s not
going to be pretty. Or civil.

He’s going to be pissed enough for me showing up at his
office, but he’s the one that deleted his number from my phone, and it’s going
to be a lot easier to catch him here than it will be to catch him at home.
Besides, he should be getting off in about half an hour, so if I can just get
him to see me, maybe we can go somewhere to talk. That is,
if
I can get
past the snooty bitch at the reception desk. She’s wearing the same scowl and
too-tight bun again, so I don’t see this going well.

“May I help you?” she snaps impatiently.

“Yes, I’m here to see Wesley Baxter.”

“Do you have an appointment with him?”

“Umm . . . yes?” Shit.

Judging by the hint of a smirk on her lips, she knows she’s
caught me. “Name?”

“Callie.”

She rolls her eyes. “One moment.” Picking up her phone, she
taps her long red nails on the phone’s keypad. “Sandra, I have a ‘Callie’ here
claiming to have an appointment with Mr. Baxter. Can you confirm her . . .
what? Oh. I’ll send her up.” She hangs up the phone and glares at me. “He’s
expecting you. Go on up.”