Almost five years had passed since Justin had run his hands over her body with the same deliberately enticing touch. She had been given five years to empty her heart of memories and her body of responses. Weeks, even months had gone by, when she’d thought she had succeeded. Yet this man could walk back into her life and assume his place with no preliminaries and no promises. Apparently she was still ruled by her gullibility and their chemistry together.
Vowing to show more caution, she pulled out jeans and a blouse that buttoned to her chin and began to dress.
* * *
STANDING IN THE courtyard of Bethany’s apartment, the former lovers watched Abby search for the cat as Bethany thanked him for dinner. “One of the best things about New Orleans is all those unassuming little restaurants tucked away in the middle of nowhere. That was a marvelous pizza. I’ve never had better.”
“That place has been there since I was a kid. I used to go with school friends and hang out after classes.”
“I can’t imagine you ever hanging out.” She made quotation marks with her fingers.
“Did you think I spent my afternoons at cotillions and teas?”
“Actually, I’ve never thought of you as a child or a teenager at all,” she said, trying to keep a straight face. “I guess I pictured you coming into the world as a twenty-seven-year-old attorney.”
“And you came into the world as an innocently sexy twenty-one-year-old art student?”
“Something like that.” She stopped at the screech of a cat. “Sounds like she’s found Bum.” She held her arms out to the determined little girl, who was half dragging the resisting cat. “Hand him over, sweetheart. I’ll carry him up.”
She started upstairs with Abby close at her heels until she realized Justin had remained below, watching them. “Aren’t you coming? I thought maybe you could read to Abby before she goes to bed.”
“Well. . .”
“Come on, you’re very welcome,” she said.
The evening hadn’t been as disastrous as their first dinner together. Abby hadn’t been openly rude to her father nor particularly polite. Since neutral was a giant step in the right direction, Bethany could tell Justin was feeling more hopeful. Although she still didn’t direct questions or statements to him, at least Abby responded when he spoke to her.
The shining moment of the dinner had come when Justin persuaded the little girl to play some of the arcade games lined up along one wall. One he had chosen had been easy enough for her to manipulate, and the two had fed quarters into the machine, enjoying the game and each other’s company. Bethany, watching them together, could sense how the distraction allowed them both to relax and be themselves for a few priceless minutes. For the first time, she’d felt some confidence that the father-daughter relationship might work out.
“Abby, go put on your nightgown and your daddy will read to you when you’re ready.” Rebellion lit the little girl’s eyes, but Bethany shook her head firmly. “Do as I say, kiddo. No arguments.”
“Come on, Bum,” the little voice huffed as the bedroom door closed with a slam.
“Abby will never give in easily,” Bethany said. “The man who’s lucky enough to marry her will be put on notice immediately.” She turned to Justin. “Can I make you some coffee?”
He went to stand by the windows, and she wondered what it was about that view—or turning his back to her—that intrigued him so.
“You’re doing a good job with her,” he said. “Being a parent seems to come so naturally to you.”
As she readied the coffeepot she considered the compliment, and decided it was genuine. As the pot began to heat she joined him at the window—there really was no place else to go, which was an answer to her own question. “You were good with her yourself. Before all this, had you ever imagined yourself as a parent?”
“Once before,” he said, turning to watch her profile. “Once before I thought seriously about it.”
“And you decided against it?”
He shook his head. “Not exactly. But things don’t always work out the way you want them to.”
“You should probably have a houseful of little ones. They bring out the best in you,” she said casually. So there had been a woman he had wanted to share his life and children with. After five years of knowing he had never seriously considered a life with her, she knew that imagining Justin with another woman shouldn’t bother her. But if the jealousy she felt was evidence, she was bothered more than a little.
“You’d be good with a houseful, too,” he said casually.
“I’m afraid that Abby is it for me.” With surprise she felt his hand on her shoulder, turning her to face him.
“Why? Did something happen at her birth?”
It took her a moment before she realized what he meant. “No, nothing like that. I’m capable of bearing a dozen more, I’m sure. Abby’s was an easy uncomplicated birth. It’s just that a baby needs a father.”
“I shouldn’t think it would be difficult to find someone willing to take on that job,” he said, tracing a line along her cheek with his forefinger.
Offended she pulled away to head back to the kitchen to pour their coffee. When she could trust her voice, she said matter-of-factly, “Regardless of what you think, not any man will do. Maybe I fell at your feet five years ago, but these days I’m surprisingly discriminating.”
When she turned he was there. He took her arm, guiding the hot coffee back to the counter. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
“For which time, Justin?”
“For all the times. I’ve never wanted to bring you pain.”
“Sometimes, good intentions aren’t enough.”
“Is it too late to make it up to you?”
As she searched his face the question hung between them. She thought she saw concern, possibly affection of some sort, and behind the perpetually guarded expression, emotion. But maybe all these years she had imagined a wealth of feeling in the hidden heart of Justin Dumontier that had never existed.
Finally she shrugged. “I’m not sure that making up for past pain is any way to have a relationship.”
“Do you want a relationship?”
She pushed him away with an irritated shove. “You can be so maddening sometimes. You want everything from me. I’m supposed to tell you what to do, what to feel. Under those circumstances, no, I do not want a relationship.”
“Are we having a fight?” he asked, grasping her hands and covering them firmly with his.
“You can’t tell? I rest my case.”
“We never fought. You were always so yielding, so giving.”
“That ship sailed. I was so head over heels I’d have jumped off the roof of the law school if you’d told me to. But I was a different person then.” She tried to shake off his hands, but he held hers tight.
“If you were so head over heels why did you leave Florida without a word to me about the baby? If you were really so much in love, why in the hell did you just pick up and go? Were you afraid I’d let you down and leave you to deal with the pregnancy alone?”
“If you recall I did deal with the pregnancy alone, Justin. All alone. I worked and I saved and I labored alone. So obviously that wasn’t my worst fear.”
Gripped by anger his hands tightened over hers. He was hurting her, but she refused to acknowledge it.
“Then why?” he demanded.
“Are you so out of touch you can’t see why I wouldn’t tell you?” She heard tears of frustration in her voice.
“Just answer me, please. Why did you leave Tallahassee without telling me you were pregnant? “It was the voice he probably used when cross-examining hostile witnesses.
“Because,” she said with tears finally making their way down her cheeks, “it was apparent you didn’t love me. I wasn’t going to chain myself to a man who felt nothing for me except desire. And apparently by the time you left that was fading, too.”
“How could you have thought that was all I felt?”
&
nbsp; “What evidence did you give me you felt more? You left me, wrote stiff, unfeeling letters, and eventually even those trickled off. Was that the behavior of a man desperately in love?”
“Bethany. . .” His answer, whatever it was, was interrupted by the sound of the bedroom door opening.
“I’m ready.” Abby stood in front of them, wearing a thin cotton nightgown and clutching the scraggly cat in front of her like a teddy bear. “Why are you crying?”
Bethany wiped away the tears. “Your daddy and I were just remembering things, and sometimes memories make people cry. I’m fine now.”
Abby turned to her father. “Why did you make my mommy cry?”
“Sometimes mommies need to cry. Even daddies cry sometimes,” Justin said.
“Really?” Abby’s eyes lit up. “Do you really cry just like mommy and me?”
“I do. Is that such a surprise?”
“I’d like to see you cry sometime. That would be neat.”
It was the longest speech she had ever delivered in her father’s presence. Justin smiled at his daughter, but he didn’t look at Bethany. “The next time I cry,” he promised, “I’ll come right over and show you.”
Relieved she would now have time to collect herself Bethany found Abby’s favorite book and tucked the little girl into the bed, leaving Justin alone with her to begin forming their own nighttime ritual. Then, exhausted from the emotional displays of the past minutes, she flopped on the couch and lay back to let weariness wash over her.
Sometime later she became conscious of Justin’s arm around her and his body close beside her. “I fell asleep,” she mumbled.
“I couldn’t pass up the chance to take advantage of it.”
“How long?”
“Who’s keeping track? Here, come closer.’’ He buried his nose in her hair. “You feel good beside me.”
Only streetlamps softly lit the room. Wrapped in darkness they sat together with no words to keep them apart. She wondered if she was imagining his support, despite everything she had said. Tentatively she reached up to stroke his face. She liked the faint rasp of his cheeks, the polished feel of the skin along his nose and under his eyes.
“Have I changed?” he asked softly.
“I’m not sure. I think you have.”
“How?”
“For one thing you play video games. The Justin I knew never would have.”
“I’ve always been a secret pinball fanatic. If I had room, I’d have an entire arcade.”
“Why ‘secret’?” she said, giving up the exploration and leaning fully against him, back against his chest, head against a shoulder. His arms went around her.
He ignored the question. “Did you also know I’m an obsessed runner? I even run marathons. Competitively.”
“Well, that explains it.”
“Explains what?”
“This,” she said reaching behind her and between them to rest her hand against his abdomen. “There’s not an ounce of fat on you. You have that lean, hungry look now.”
“Lean, sure. Hungry? I’m afraid that’s becoming more and more true.” He began to kiss the back of her neck.
What had been comforting and casual was fast changing into something else again. Bethany felt herself transforming from the self-assured young artist and mother back into a starry-eyed girl in the arms of her first lover. Justin’s hands crept up her sides until they rested against her breasts. Fingers fanning out, he explored slowly and surely. She could feel her nipples hardening in response, and she knew the signs of her arousal were too easy for him to read, too.
“You’ve always been too good at that, Justin,” she said. “Don’t you think this is going to complicate our relationship?”
“What’s one more complication in a relationship fraught with them? The one thing I know for sure is that I want you.”
“Nope.” She covered his hands, moving them away. “I’m sure you have every reason to think I’m a pushover, but I’m not.”
“You want me, too. Don’t tell me you don’t. When I touch you, you melt like a snow cone on a summer afternoon.”
“I don’t want another casual fling. The last one did not end well. And there’s a child in the middle of this one.” She pulled away and stood. “I think you’d better go.”
“Not until we settle some things. There are too many issues that need clarifying. We were on our way toward clearing up some misunderstandings when Abby walked in. I want to finish what we started.”
“Not now,” she said firmly. Her heart was pounding, and she was standing on unsteady legs. “I think we should talk when we’re calmer.”
“That’s never going to happen. I’m never calm around you, and I want to finish our discussion.”
“Well, you can’t always have things your own way, though God knows, I’m probably responsible for teaching you that you can.”
“I’m not quite the egotist you’re trying to make me out to be.” He stood, too, and she wasn’t sure what he planned, but a noise from the bedroom stopped them both.
On alert, Bethany stood perfectly still. “Did you hear that? I’d better check on Abby.”
“I’ll come with you.” There was to be no avoiding him tonight. Without a word she went to open the bedroom door and peer into the dark room.
“Abby?” she whispered.
“Mommy,” said a pathetic little voice. There was a gasping sound, a choke and a wheeze. “Mommy. . .”
“Turn on the light, Justin.” Bethany, momentarily blinded when he did, stumbled to the bedside, almost tripping over Bum, who leaped off the bed. “Abby? What’s wrong?”
Justin was at her side in a moment, taking in the sight of the little girl clutching her throat and trying desperately to breathe. In a moment he had picked her up and was headed toward the bathroom. “Turn on the hot water full force, Bethany and leave the shower curtain open. If it’s just the croup, then that will help. Shut the door behind you.”
The tiny bathroom filled slowly with mist. Too slowly, Bethany agonized, because there was only one hot-water heater shared by the four apartments and the shop. Justin held Abby on his lap, talking calmly to her, but the mist and his patience made no inroads in the little girl’s struggles for air.
When it was obvious the steam wasn’t helping, he stood, jerking his head in an unspoken command for Bethany to follow. Still talking patiently to Abby, he swept her through the apartment and down the stairs. “Get my keys, Bethany, and unlock the car door.” She reached in his pockets, struggling to keep pace without running, and managed to extract them. They covered the blocks to his car in record time, and she unlocked the door and slid into the passenger seat to receive Abby on her lap.
Expertly Justin swung the car onto the narrow French Quarter street and made his way through traffic. Minutes ticked by until he reached an intersection where he could begin to gather some speed. “What hospital does her pediatrician use?” he asked.
“We don’t have a pediatrician, Justin. The last time she was in the hospital a general practitioner looked in on her. The emergency-room doctor took care of her treatment.”
“Where was that?” he asked tersely, obviously upset by her answer.
She named a hospital and then shook her head. “Don’t take her there. I’m not finished paying the bill, and they might give us trouble since I don’t have insurance.”
“Damn,” was his answer.
They were at another hospital in minutes, pulling up in the emergency-room parking lot. Justin ran around to open the car door and lift Abby out of Bethany’s arms. Inside the nurse on duty took one look at the child and paged the physician on call.
The next hour was a whirlwind of activity. After the briefest of examinations the doctor ordered medication that quickly helped Abby breathe more normally. With the worst of the anxiety behind her, Bethany, too, was breathing normally again, except whenever she looked at Justin. Loving and patient with the frightened little girl, he was frozen with Bethany, answerin
g her questions in monosyllables.
The emergency-room doctor, who was an older man with a forbearing air, asked the two of them to step outside Abby’s cubicle after she seemed to have stabilized. “Mrs. Walker. How often has this occurred?”
She shook her head. “Never like this. She’s been wheezy from time to time. and she’s had pneumonia two—no, three times—” she flinched at the look Justin directed toward her “—but she’s never had anything like this before.”
“Mr. Walker, have you ever noticed her wheezing?”
“I’m Justin Dumontier.” He held out his hand to the man. “She’s my daughter, but I’ve had no contact with her up till now. Her mother will have to answer your questions.”
The doctor looked perplexed at the relationship, but shrugged his puzzlement away. “Has anything major changed in her environment in the past week, Mrs. . . Ms Walker?”
“She’s been under some stress. Other than that I can’t think of anything.”
“How about that cat?” Justin asked quietly. “Abby told me tonight you’d never let her sleep with the cat before this week.’’
“That’s true. It’s not even our cat. We’re just watching him this week. Could that have anything to do with this?”
The doctor seemed satisfied by her answer. “I wouldn’t be at all surprised. I suspect your daughter has an allergy to cat dander. She probably has other allergies, too, if her respiratory history is any clue.”
“What can I do about it?”
The doctor patted her on the shoulder. “It could be a lot worse. If it’s allergies, and I feel pretty certain that’s what it is, you’ll have to make some adjustments in her environment and see an allergist.”
“What are you going to do with her now?” Justin asked.
“I’m going to recommend she stay overnight, maybe two nights. I don’t like the way her chest sounds, and I want to be sure it’s clear before I send her home. Besides, this will give you a chance to clean her room and get rid of the cat.”
“Please go ahead and admit her. I’ll be along to take care of the paperwork in a minute,” Justin said.
Bethany watched the physician disappear down the hall. “She’s going to hate this,” she said.
The Unmasking Page 11