Lover's Lane (25 page)

34

BLINDLY CARLY WALKED OUT OF JAKE’S HOUSE, AWAY FROM Anna Saunders and her perfectly matched outfit, her gold earrings, diamond rings, gold bracelets—reminders of wealth and power in a world where money has the last word.

Jake was waiting on the far end of the porch. He turned the minute Carly cleared the front door, searched her face with unspoken questions in his eyes.

They exchanged a look. His eyes were full of concern, apology, an underlying, smoldering heat that couldn’t be denied. She started for the stairs, so intent upon getting home to the safety of the familiar, to Chris, that she nearly stumbled.

Jake unfolded his long legs, stepped away from the low wall that surrounded the porch, reached her as she cleared the last step. Tempering his strides, he fell into the cadence of her step as she headed for the car.

“How did it go?”

She thought he might have heard every word, but the sound of the sea wrapped around the hills, birds sang spring songs in the cottonwoods along the arroyo. Perhaps he hadn’t heard a thing.

They stopped beside the Ford. He looked down into her eyes, reached for her hand.

“Tell me,” he urged.

“Did you expect her to meet me and simply withdraw the petition? That would be the perfect ending to a sappy movie of the week, but this is real life, Jake. Wake up and smell the coffee. She wants to meet Christopher.”

His eyes hardened, his mouth tensed. He let go of her hand and took a step back.

“Don’t tell me about real life. I wanted you and Anna to get to know each other outside of a courtroom, and that’s happened. What’s wrong with my hoping the two of you would stop and think about Christopher? He has you, Carly, but it would be great if he had extended family, too.”

“He has plenty of family. He has Etta and Selma, Joe and Geoff. And the Potters.”

“You’re right. But have you ever thought of what would become of him if something happened to you? If Anna had never found you, he might have ended up in foster care, in the kind of place you ran away from. He’d never know he had family who cared about him.”

His logic frightened her. She’d often thought that she should have made provisions for Chris in the event something happened to her, but that would have meant letting someone in, explaining everything, filling out legal documents.

“She doesn’t care about him. She doesn’t even know him,” she argued.

“She knows he’s Rick’s.” Impatiently, he ran his fingers through his hair. “I probably shouldn’t have wasted either of your time. I thought I could help.”

“Did you think you were helping when you walked into our lives and treated us as if you
cared
? You moved into my son’s heart, and you expect me to forgive you for pretending to be a decent, caring guy. Now you want me to try and
understand
the woman who wants to take my son away from me?”

“If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here, Carly. I’d have called Anna Saunders the first day I laid eyes on you, told her where you were, and taken her money on the spot. I wouldn’t have turned down her offer when she asked me to take the case. I wasn’t working for her when I met you, and I’m not now. I’m blue in the face trying to convince you that I would have
never
told her where you are.”

“No, but you led her right to us.”

“Damn it, Carly. I love you. That ought to count for something.” He looked as if he’d startled himself with another raw declaration of his love for her.

He turned and stalked away, wide shoulders rigid, his hands at his sides. As she watched him go, she remembered the night he’d first walked into the gallery, how she’d seen him as a man who didn’t waste movements, a man who walked with a purpose. That purpose had been to track her down.

Let him go.

Her heart was deaf to her mind’s advice. She raised her hand, reached out for him.

“Jake, wait.”

At the sound of her voice, he stopped and turned, but didn’t walk back. His stance telegraphed impatience, his expression closed—that of a man who had defended himself for the last time and had nothing more to say.

On the second try, she found the words, though they bore the metallic taste of fear.

“I’ve agreed to take Chris to Plaza Park in an hour. I’ve agreed to let her meet him.”

Cool and distant, Jake said nothing at all, simply looked at her.

Carly turned away, reminding herself this was
his
fault, not hers. She opened the door, started Betty Ford. Something between embarrassment and downright shame hit her when she realized she would have to drive tired old Betty Ford past the window. Anna Saunders would see her beat-up car.

She kept her hands steady on the wheel, her chin high. By the time she headed back down the drive, Jake had already gone inside.

An hour later, Carly fought to quell the small riot going on in her stomach as she tried to get Chris ready to go. In the end she had agreed to the meeting, not because Anna requested it, but for Rick—certain it was what he would have wanted.

At least there was still a glimmer of hope. Maybe when Anna met Christopher, the woman would be reminded of her own son and remember what losing him had done to her.

Chris was excited when he heard they were going to the park, but Carly couldn’t bring herself to tell him why. She simply couldn’t find the words. Trying to make it seem like any ordinary Sunday afternoon outing, she let him choose what he wanted to wear and reminded him to bring along a sweatshirt.

She changed her clothes, took off her good slacks and slipped on her jeans. No use pretending to be something she wasn’t. Besides, Anna had already given her a once-over.

“Can we take Beauty?” Chris was standing by the door with the leash in his hand. The dog sat at his feet, already used to following him all around the house.

“I think we should let her get used to being here alone.”

His little brow furrowed as he stared down at the dog that stared back in adoration.

“She’ll be all right. Etta leaves Napoleon alone when she comes over here to sit with you,” Carly reminded him.

“But Etta’s had Napoleon a long time. He’s used to being left all alone.”

“Not today, Chris. Please.”

With a long-suffering sigh, he went to put the leash in his room. Beauty padded along after him.

Carly looked into the studio at the painting she’d originally started for Jake. The one-and-only figure in the piece was finally taking shape. The deserted bluff, the vastness of the Pacific backlit by a vibrant orange and yellow sunset, dramatized a stark loneliness.

She wished she could undo the sadness rendered on canvas, but if she altered it now, it would never, ever be right.

When they got to the plaza, she and Chris walked past the fountain, across the expansive grass-covered bluff to the sidewalk promenade that bordered the cove.

She had to trust her intuition, to do what was right, not for Anna Saunders or herself, but for Chris.

“Look, Mom! Over there!” He pointed out to sea. “I saw a dolphin jump out of the water.”

She scanned the brilliant sparkling ocean reflecting the afternoon sun. A few surfers bobbed in the current, waiting for waves, but she saw no sign of a dolphin.

Chris tugged on her sleeve. “Can we get an ice cream later?”

She reached down, straightened the shoulder seam of his navy sweatshirt. When had he grown from a toddler to a boy?

Someday would she look at him and suddenly realize he’d gone from a boy to a man? Would they share the years between?

“I don’t want you to spoil your dinner.”

“Maybe we should ask Jake to dinner.”

“No. Not tonight. Matt’s coming over, remember? We have to pick him up later.” Both boys had Monday off because of a teacher inservice. Tracy had asked if Matt could sleep over so that she and Glenn could register early for a motivational seminar they were attending.

Carly hoped having Matt around would keep her mind off of whatever happened this afternoon.

Together she and Chris leaned against the iron safety rail overlooking the view that had enticed so many tourists and locals. Chris tried to hook his legs through the lower rail and dangle them over the edge, but as always, she pulled him back, admonishing him to be careful. Then she looked around, hoping that maybe Anna wouldn’t show. Her heart stumbled when she noticed the woman watching them from a few yards away.

I’m not ready.

At first Carly thought Anna was alone, but then she saw Jake at the far end of the bluff leaning on the guardrail, staring at the ocean.

Her palms grew clammy. Her throat tightened, making it hard to swallow. She had an urge to grab Chris by the hand and sprint across the park.

Anna had almost reached them. Carly glanced over at Jake. This time their eyes met.

Life doesn’t hand out a lot of second chances.

He had sounded so sure—as if he’d found out the hard way.

Anna hadn’t changed clothes, but she was wearing sunglasses that covered her eyes, masking her expression. Walking along the edge of the bluff, she looked out of place and uncomfortable. The steady breeze off the water battered her hair.

Chris was still trying to sight dolphins when Anna reached them. The woman nodded to Carly, then turned to face the water, standing a foot from Christopher.

Both women flanked him, neither willing to say a word, neither knowing exactly what to say.

Carly snuck a glance at Anna and saw her wipe away a tear that had slipped from beneath her glasses. The mother inside Carly wondered what it would be like to stand beside the son of her son for the first time.

“What are you looking for?” Anna drew Christopher’s attention.

Before he answered, he looked to Carly for permission. She’d preached to him never to talk to strangers, and he took the warning seriously. Carly nodded, but her lips trembled when she tried to smile.

“I saw a dolphin jump out of the water. They kinda curve up and dive back in. Like this.” He demonstrated by arcing his hand through the air. “I saw it right by the surfers.”

“Do you like the ocean?” Anna was gripping the rail so hard her knuckles were white.

“Sure. We have a beach of our own where we live. Huh, Mom?”

“We do,” Carly agreed.

“Where do you live?”

“Seaside Village. It’s around those rocks.” He pointed to the end of Twilight Cove. “It’s the next cove over, but you can’t see it from here.” Then he smiled. “I’m Chris. This is my mom.”

“I already knew your name.”

“You know my mom from the diner?”

“No. Your mother and I met earlier today. My name is Anna.”

“Hey!” He whipped his head around to Carly. “Her name’s Anna, like my grandma.”

When Carly saw Anna cover her mouth, she suspected the woman was having difficulty swallowing.

“This
is
your grandmother, Chris.”

Anna dropped her hand and cleared her throat. “I’ve waited a very long time to meet you,” she told him.

Christopher, in all his sweet innocence, took Carly’s hand and squeezed. “Really, Mom? Is she
really
my grandma?”

“I wanted to surprise you. She came a long way to meet you.” When an overwhelming protectiveness swept her, Carly rested her hand on Christopher’s head.

She so ached for him. It hurt that he’d never known Rick, that he hadn’t ever known a father’s love.

Seeing Anna’s emotional reaction to Chris, Carly ached for her, too.

“Wow.” Hands at his sides, dolphin forgotten, Chris tipped his head back and stared at Anna in amazement.

“You don’t look like a grandma.”

The corner of Anna’s mouth twitched. “What do you think a grandmother looks like?”

Chris shrugged. “Kinda chubby with fluffy white hair, not gold like yours. Grandmas wear glasses and aprons and bake trays of gingerbread men.”

Carly bit her lips. Christopher had just described the Little Old Woman illustrated in his Gingerbread Man picture book.

“I’ve never made a gingerbread man in my life,” Anna admitted honestly.

“My mom makes them, and I get to help. We use the recipe in the back of my book, and she lets me put the raisins on for eyes and buttons.”

The colors of the ocean and the sky suddenly flooded into a watercolor wash as tears swam in Carly’s eyes. She turned away—damned if she’d let Anna see her cry—pretending to watch the surfers.

The woman trying to insinuate herself into Christopher’s life didn’t know what he liked to eat or the names of his favorite books. She couldn’t know that he got quiet when he was scared or that he got sullen if he stayed up past his bedtime. She didn’t know that he wore Batman underwear, that he liked to brag he had his own private box of Band-Aids. She had no idea what treasures he kept hidden in his collection of empty Altoids boxes under his bed.

She had no right to him at all. DNA was their only connection.

“Do you have any pictures of my dad? Mom said you’d show me some when I come visit.”

“When you come to visit?”

Carly quickly explained. “I told Christopher about how you wanted him to . . . come to
visit
at your house.” She was certain her heart was going to break into so many pieces it would be impossible to collect them all again.

“Would you
really
come visit me?” Anna asked.

“If I can bring my dog, Beauty.”

“I’ll have to think about that.”

“Maybe I better not come then.”

“I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Can I see the pictures now?” Chris stepped closer, staring at her leather handbag.

Anna tried to smooth down her flyaway hair, but without any luck. She glanced around the park before turning to Carly.

“Would it be all right if we sit on that bench under the tree?”

“That’s a fig tree,” Chris piped up, pleased with himself for remembering. “There’s a big, huge, giagantor one in Santa Barbara. I never saw it, but my teacher said so.”

“Then it must be true,” Anna told him.

No matter what she was feeling, Carly couldn’t deny him this chance to fill in the missing pieces of his life.