Kiss the Girl (58 page)

“I don’t know how.”

She smiled at him, a bit crookedly.  “Talk to her,” she said.  “
Tell her what’s in your heart.
”

“What if it isn’t
enough
?”

“
What if it is? 
Faint hearts never won jack,
boyo
.”

“I think you may be
underestimating the degree to which I’ve
been a total ass
.”

“I never underestimate the degree to which a man can
be a total ass
.”  She smiled,
though, and
lifted a hand to
his cheek.  “But you raise a kid, you make a lot of mistakes.  And you learn that people who love you can be infinitel
y forgiving.
”

He covered he
r hand with his, pressed it
and
swallowed hard, past the
awkward lump of regret and love
blocking his throat
.

“And f
or the record?
” she said.  “
I left a lot behind when I walked away from the farm, but I never left you.  Never.”

“I know.”  And he did. 

She
gave his cheek one last little pat and drew back.  “So
.
  What are you going to do about Nixie?”

Erik reached across the table.  He
took her hand
this time and said,
“I have an idea, but I’m going to
need your help.
”

Her eyes went round, then filled with an unruly rush of tears that had Erik
half
out of his
chair
.  “Jeez, Mom, don’t cry.  I only--“

She waved him back into his seat with an impatient hand.  “Oh for goodness sake,” she said.  “Sit down.  I’m allowed a couple of tears when my only child finally asks me to be part of his life.”  She swiped her sleeve over her eyes, gave the table a brisk pat and
said, “Now.  Tell me about this plan of yours.”

One week later Mary Jane sat savoring the silence of her office.  She
loved Su
nday mornings
at the clinic
.  Doors locked tight until noon
, phones routed directly to the answering service.  She could brew up a pot of coffee and have a decent shot at
actually
drinking it before
the series of crises that passed for the work day turned it into a pot of hard-boiled sludge. 

She didn’t love the paperwork she forced hersel
f to do while she drank it, but bills
needed paying.  And in spite of Nixie’s on-air melt-down last weekend--or maybe because of it--
the gala had raised
enough cash to
actually pay them
.

She’d made a
good
dent in both the coffee pot and
the mess in her in
box when
she heard the door
rattle
.  She froze halfway through her signature.  Wanda had a key, as did Erik, but she knew they would both rather drink battery acid than give up
a
Sunday morning to
push paper at the clinic.
  That was
what
they paid her
the big bucks
to handle
.  What nonprofits considered big bucks, anyway.

Probably a couple of desper
ate junkies looking to keep
Saturday night’s party rolling
, she thought
. 
She wrapped her hand around the Louisville Slugger she kept beside the filing cabinet for just such emergencies and marched
toward
the
waiting room
. 
The receptionist pen
was
locked down and bullet proof
but t
he bat was a comforting weight in her
hand as she rounded the corner
.

And found Ty standing
in her lobby.

The br
eath left her lungs in a whoosh.  H
er hand went numb on the bat. 
And her heart, her treacherous,
stupid
heart, sang at the sight of him.

He looked tired, she thought inanely. 
It was in
the set of his shoulders,
the
tilt of his head. 
No jaunty charm, no arrogant
smirk
. 
He didn’t smile at her,
and
God
help her, she sort of missed that I-know-you-want-me-baby
grin
that made her want to strangle him because she invariably did
.

“Hey, Mary Jane,” he said.  “Brought you something.”

She
noticed for the first time
the woman beside him.

“
Jass
,” she said
, and worked up a smile for the pr
egnant, sullen teenager
.  “You’re starting to show.”

“No, I’m smuggling a basketball.”
 
Jass
rolled her eyes. 

“You said you wanted to see her,” Ty said.
 
“
See the baby.  So.”  He lifted his shoulders.  “Here they are.”

“Here they are.”  Mary Jane smiled at
Jass
.  “I’m so glad you came.  Come on back.  Let’s have a look at that baby.”

Something moved
across
Jass
’
closed
face
as she cut a questioning glance at Ty
, something hopeful and alive and
painfully young. 
He
gave her a gentle prod through the door
Mary Jane buzzed open
. 

“I’ll wait here,” he told her,
but kept his eyes
on Mary Jane. 

Mary Jane nodded and
he lowered himself into one of the puke-colored chairs in the empty waiting room.  She watched him for a moment--she couldn’t help the weakness of drinking him in from a safe distance--then shook it off.  She turned to
Jass
and said, “You ready to meet that baby?”

“Not in person, no.”

Mary Jane laughed.  “How about just a picture?”

“T
hat’
d
be cool.  I guess.”

“This way.”

Half an hour later, Mary Jane left
Jass
with a screen shot of her baby and orders to get dressed and meet her in the receptionist’s pen to make her next appointment. 
She found
Ty
where she’d left him
, his head
resting on the chair back
, his eyes closed.  She let herself into the waiting room and took the seat opposite his.  He came awake with barely a ripple.

“
So?  What’s the story?”

“Healthy baby boy,” Mary Jane said.  “Estimated date of arrival August 22.  I’ll need to run some standard tests, bloo
d work and such, but everything
looks fine
.”  She paused
.
“Thank you
for bringing her in, Ty.  It was a good thing to do.”

“Yeah, I’ve been on a roll lately.”

“You have?”

“You don’t have to sound so surprised.”

“Sorry.  I just
--”
  She cut herself off.  “No, I’m done lying.
  To you, about you.  To myself about you.
  I
am
surprised. 
Life shit on you, Ty.  I don’t dispute that.  But you’ve been
shitting
right back ever since so yes
,
the occasional good deed surprises me.”

“Yeah.  I guess I deserve that.  Hell, I deserve a lot more than that from you.”  He leaned forward, elbows on knees
and her heart leapt into her mouth.  He made no
move to touch her
but she dr
ew back anyway.  Something shifted
in his eyes, but she forced herself to look away.  She was finished looking for hope where there was none
. 

“I’m sorry, MJ,” he said.
 
“
I really am.”

“You are?” 
Mary Jane
narrowed her eyes at him.  Better suspicious than gullible.  “Why?” 

“You were right,” he said.  “All this time
.  When they took my license
--”
  He shook his head, started again.  “When I
lost
my license, I went a little crazy.  I’d worked so hard, MJ.  So hard to get myself out of this place.  To deserve more than this.  I wanted the two thousand dollar suits, the four hundred dollar lunches.  I wanted people to look at me and see power.  To see somebody important.  Somebody
who
meant something.”

“I always saw that, Ty.”

“I know.  I wanted more.”

Her heart--stupid,
stupid
--took the slap.  Deserved it, she told herself.  Five yards for being an idiot.

“And for a while, I had
more
,” he said.
 
“
I had it all--you, the job, the money, the power.  The thrill.  God, I loved it.”

“I know,” she said and the bitterness in her voice shocked her.  Was she really still so angry? 

“But
then I lost it.  I wanted to believe somebody took it from me.  Because I was young.  Because I was smart.  Because I was black.  Take your pick.”  He spread his hands.  “What I
didn’t want to believe was that I could be the problem.  That my drive for success had somehow disintegrated into an addiction to risk.  To playing fast and loose with money that wasn’t mine and morals that, unfortunately, were.  I wasn’t doing anything other people weren’t doing, right?  Couldn’t be wrong if my boss was
okay with it
, too, right?”  He rubbed
the back of his neck
.  “Well, you know how it played out from there.”