Adopt-a-Dad

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Adopt-a-Dad Page 8

by Marion Lennox


  Unconsciously he started to remove it, then let it slide back.

  Better not. If officials came asking questions… If he lost the damned thing…

  What if the baby came early? he thought suddenly. What if it came tonight? His mind was heading off in all directions.

  “She has a phone,” he said into the night. “She’s not irresponsible… She’s not irresponsible but she’s too damned independent… Why too independent? Do you want her to live with you? No, but…”

  His voice trailed away. Of course he didn’t want her to live with him, but a vision of her face flashed into his mind. Her skin too pale, as if she didn’t spend enough time in the sun. Her eyes creased with worry, but her face set and resolute.

  She’d been through too much.

  And if she has cramps again tonight…

  “Butt out, Lord,” he told himself savagely. “You’ve done enough. She needs space, so get back to where you left off.”

  The phone on his belt buzzed into life, and he quickly grabbed it. If she needed him…

  “Mike?”

  “Garrett.” Michael’s breath came out in a rush. It wasn’t Jenny.

  “Hey, who were you expecting? Marilyn Monroe?”

  “Yeah, right. What do you want?” It was impossible to eliminate the impatience in his voice, and he could imagine Garrett’s eyebrows doing a hike upward at the other end of the line.

  “You were invited for dinner.”

  “What?”

  “Tonight,” Garrett said patiently. “We’ve had steak and salad, and Dylan and I have drunk most of the beer, but if you’re fast you can have some of Shelby’s pumpkin pie.”

  Jenny doesn’t like pumpkin pie.

  Somehow he didn’t say it. With a mental shake, he managed to get himself into the conversation. Into reality. “I’m not coming.”

  “Are you with someone?”

  “No.”

  “As usual. You’re neck deep in work, maybe?”

  “No, but…”

  “Then we’re expecting you.” Garrett’s growl matched his. “The girls are disappointed. Or are you planning on staying out of family life completely now?”

  “No.”

  There was a pause. Something had caught Garrett’s attention. Something different? His voice lowered a notch, and Michael heard worry come into it. “You sound… You’re not down in that damned casino?”

  “No!”

  “Then get your butt over here, little brother,” Garrett demanded. “Before I drag you.”

  Yeah. Okay. It seemed sensible enough, or more sensible than standing on the riverbank having conversations with himself. Besides, there was no point worrying Garrett and his sisters.

  He took a deep breath, gathered his wits, turned into a single man again and went to face his family.

  “THERE’S FIVE LEADS.”

  Michael was sitting on the sofa at Garrett’s ranch, a can of cold beer in his hand. He’d refused Lana’s offer of a glass. He sat there trying not to think that Jenny would be shoving a glass at him regardless. He was trying not to smile at the thought.

  “Are you with us, Mike?”

  Michael blinked and focused. Garrett was standing in the center of the room. Their sister Shelby was on the floor at his feet, playing with Lana and Dylan’s baby, Greg, and Lana and Dylan were sitting way too close on the other sofa. The way they were looking at each other, there’d be another baby before too long.

  “Oh. Um, yeah. Right.”

  Garrett fixed him with a big-brother look that said, Pay attention or take the consequences, and continued.

  “As I said, we need to do something concrete.”

  What the heck were they talking about? They looked like they were waiting for an intelligent question. “We?” he said weakly, and hoped it was appropriate.

  Apparently it wasn’t. All it earned him was a glower from Shelby.

  “Garrett and me. Michael, you’re not listening. Shut up and concentrate.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “We found five sets of triplets born around our birth dates,” Garrett repeated, frowning at his brother. Something was up with Michael, and he didn’t know what. His eyes stayed watchful as he kept talking. “Without fertility drugs, there weren’t as many triplets born then, and most didn’t survive. There are only five registered in Texas as making it.”

  “So?” Two intelligent questions in one night! He was doing well. He nudged Shelby, and she glowered again.

  “Shut up, Michael.”

  Garrett’s frown deepened. Yeah. Something was definitely up with his baby brother, but all he could do was keep talking while he tried to figure it out.

  “There was one set of triplets born to a LeeAnn and Gary Larrimore three towns from here at Lorretta Free Clinic. That seems the most promising lead, mostly because the hospital records are so scant, but there are four more around Texas. We thought if we split up… Mike, if you can help…”

  Michael sighed as he finally figured what they were talking about. Their birth mother again! He might have known. They were asking him to get involved, and he didn’t want to.

  “Why would I help?”

  “Because we want to find our mother, Michael,” Shelby said, exasperated. “With your resources…”

  “Sheila Lord was our mother, and that’s the only mother I want,” Michael said flatly. “Our natural mother dumped us.” Immediately Jenny came to mind. She wouldn’t have dumped her baby. No way! “Terrence and Sheila were the world’s greatest parents,” he went on. “They’re who I think of as Mom and Dad. I don’t need anyone else.”

  “Most of the time you don’t need anyone at all,” Shelby snapped. “But some of us do.”

  “There are easier ways to find someone to care about than searching for a woman who dumped us.”

  “She cares.” Shelby’s voice rose. “Our mother cares. You read the note.”

  “I know she’s having a guilt trip all these years later,” Michael argued. “So she sent Megan a stuffed toy and three cute little sweaters. It means nothing. She doesn’t suggest getting in touch.”

  “The note said she loved us. Maybe she feels too guilty to ask about getting in touch.”

  “Then maybe she’s right to feel like that. After all, she dumped us. She had no guarantee we’d be looked after.”

  “Oh, right.” Shelby was angry, and on her high horse. Fighting with Michael had been her chief pastime since she was three. She swiveled on the floor and fixed Michael with a withering look. “She dumped us at Maitland Maternity, where Megan was in charge. Even back then, the press coverage on the place would have told her that Megan would move heaven and earth to get us cared for, and cared for together.”

  “If she loved us, then she’d have stuck around to find out that we were okay.”

  “She had reasons she couldn’t.”

  “Well, I’m not interested in them,” Michael said flatly. “Terrence and Sheila did their best to bring us up. They gave us everything we needed and more, and it seems disloyal to them to go hunting for some woman who took the easy way out.”

  “You’re too hard, Michael.”

  “I’m not hard. I just see the facts. There’s no room in our lives for someone who never showed the least interest in being our mother.”

  “There’s no room in your life for anyone,” Shelby snapped.

  Now, that was a bit much. Michael considered her words while his siblings glared at him. He had everyone he needed right here in this room, he thought, and he really was fond of his hotheaded sister.

  “Hey, except you,” he told Shelby, trying to prod her into smiling. He tweaked her hair as she sat on the floor beside him. She glowered, and he tweaked again.

  “Cut it out!” Shelby protested.

  “Then cut out being mad at me. You know you don’t mean it.”

  “You’re so darned aloof. You don’t care.”

  “Hey, I care about you guys.”

  “Not enough to help
us.”

  “Nope.”

  “Because you’re selfish.”

  “Because you’re wasting time.” He paused. “And maybe because searching for this woman might be opening yourselves up to a whole lot of grief.”

  “Aren’t you even interested?” she demanded hotly. “How can you not want to know?”

  “Easy. I mind my own business. Not like some sisters I know.”

  “Oh, you are so-” She grabbed the cushion she’d been using to support tiny Greg on the floor. Greg was lying flat on his back now, surveying his toes, and he had no need of it. In a practiced maneuver, Shelby took aim and swiped the cushion across Michael’s head.

  Cushion swiping had been a skill Shelby had practiced since she was a toddler. Michael knew it and expected it. He rose and, catching her wrist, hauled her to her feet. He pushed her easily backward so she fell onto the sofa, then laughed into her indignant face.

  “Some things never change,” he said fondly. “Isn’t this you all over, Shel? When all else fails, resort to violence.”

  “And some things about you never change,” she retorted, hauling her arm back without success to aim with another cushion. “Here’s Michael Lord, resorting to indifference because he might just get hurt if he gets involved.”

  “That’s deep, Shel,” he said appreciatively. “You been doing a psychology course on the quiet?”

  “I don’t need a psych-”

  And she stopped dead.

  “I don’t need…” he prompted, but she was no longer concentrating on what she was saying. Her eyes had grown as huge as saucers, and she was staring at his hand as if it had grown another thumb.

  “Michael,” she said, and her voice sounded strangled and far away.

  “What’s wrong?” It was Garrett who asked the question. Michael had seen where she was looking and gave an inward groan. He knew what was coming. How could he have thought they wouldn’t notice?

  “Shel, what’s happening?” Lana was distracted enough to pull away from Dylan’s arms and rise in instinctive protective mode. The siblings might fight as much as they liked, but if there was the faintest thing wrong with one of them, the rest of the brood sensed it in an instant. And reacted accordingly. “Shelby?”

  “He’s wearing a wedding ring,” Shelby whispered in horror. “Michael, you’re not married!”

  Michael considered this for all of ten seconds. He stared at his family, thinking of one smart reply after another.

  None seemed right. In the end, there was only one thing he could think of to say. After all, they had to know sometime.

  “Well, yes,” he said softly. “I guess you could say that I am.”

  LANA SAT DOWN. It was as if her legs had suddenly gone from under her. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

  On the floor, baby Greg looked up in wide-eyed interest. The world was a wonderful place, his infant eyes declared, and his uncle Michael was fascinating if he just stood still.

  Which was what he was doing. As were his siblings. Michael looked around at his family, and they stared back like so many frozen statues.

  “It’s someone…” Lana gave a soft moan, finally recovering her voice. “Oh, no. It’s someone from the casino?”

  “Hell, Lana.” Michael shook his head in disbelief. This at least he could handle. “Will you get it into your head that I hit the gambling scene for a whole three months after Dan was killed? Sure, I was off the rails, but that’s over. You and Shelby have spent the last two years worrying about me.”

  “I’ve been worrying, too,” Garrett volunteered. He took Michael’s beer can from his hand. “It’s the Morrow woman, isn’t it?”

  “The Morrow woman?” Michael’s eyes narrowed. What sort of a description was that?

  “The Morrow woman?” Lana moved. She grabbed Michael’s beer can from Garrett’s hand and thrust it at Dylan, as if it was getting in the way of what was really important. She was practically gibbering. “What Morrow woman?”

  But Michael was no longer listening. He was facing Garrett head-on. The Morrow woman? It sounded like an accusation.

  “Who told you about Jenny?” he demanded, his voice dangerous.

  “Jenny?” Shelby’s voice was practically a squeak. “Who’s Jenny? You’ve married a woman called Jenny? I don’t know any Jenny.”

  “Ellie was looking for you on Friday morning,” Garrett told Michael, ignoring his sisters. His eyes didn’t leave Michael’s face. “She called me and told me there’d been a problem with your secretary.”

  “Your secretary?” Lana gasped. “Jenny, as in Jenny-your-temporary-secretary? You’re married to Jenny, your secretary? I know Jenny. She’s lovely. But she’s pregnant. She’s huge. Michael, she’s-”

  “Well, there you are. I don’t have to tell you anything about it,” Michael interrupted dryly. “You’ve figured it all out for yourselves.”

  “Catch me, Dylan,” Lana said dramatically. “I’m going to faint.” And she collapsed with theatrical effect onto the sofa and into her husband’s willing arms. There was laughter in her eyes, but there was no matching laughter in Shelby’s. Lana’s world had expanded with her husband and child, but Shelby’s life still revolved around her brothers and her sister. Her eyes were filled with undiluted horror as she struggled from the sofa to face him.

  “Michael, you haven’t…” Shelby was staring at him as if he’d been caught walking naked at midday. “Of all the… No. Tell me you haven’t.”

  “Surely there were alternatives,” Garrett said uneasily. “Ellie said the woman’s life is in a mess, but…”

  “You know, Garrett,” Dylan said conversationally from the sofa, his arm holding Lana comfortably against him, “if I were you, I’d stop calling Michael’s new wife ‘the woman.’ I’m watching Mike from down here, and every time you say it his face turns blacker.”

  That stopped them dead. Garrett and Shelby stared at Dylan, then turned to stare at Michael.

  His expression was like a thundercloud.

  Lana made a noise that was somewhere between a squeak and a gasp, then somehow collected herself. She hauled herself out of her husband’s arms and bounced up to stand before Michael. She took his hands in hers and fixed him with the Lord look-the look that told him he wouldn’t get away with anything but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  “Of course she’s not ‘the woman.’ She’s Jenny and she’s really, really sweet,” she said warmly. “And you’ve married her. So tell us all about it, Michael. Don’t leave a single thing out, and don’t tell us any lies. Just tell us.”

  Michael looked at his sisters’ troubled faces and gave an inward shrug. What the heck? They needed to know. These guys were his family. And somehow…so was Jenny.

  So he did as ordered. He told them everything, while they stood and took it in with various degrees of disbelief and incredulity.

  “Well,” Lana said at last, plonking herself down at Dylan’s side again. “Well.”

  “She’s eight months pregnant?” Shelby asked in a distant voice. “You mean, she’s found herself a father for her child? When you had nothing to do with it? Of all the conniving-”

  “Sort of like me and Lana,” Dylan said softly, holding his wife. “Like me finding a mother for Greg when Lana had nothing to do with it. Conniving like that, do you mean? Careful, Shelby.”

  “It is not like that,” Shelby snapped. “You guys love each other. She-she trapped him.”

  Michael’s brows lowered. “I offered, Shel.”

  “But you don’t love her?” she demanded, wheeling on Michael with anger. “Of course you don’t love her! Where is she now?”

  “I don’t know. Home, I guess.”

  “Your home?”

  “No, her home.”

  “You don’t plan on living together?”

  “Not yet.” He frowned. Not until he could make her see sense. Tomorrow maybe?

  “Well, that’s something.” Shelby look
ed relieved, but Garrett was shaking his head.

  “Mike, do you have any idea what sort of legal minefield you’ve put yourself into?”

  “I can handle it.”

  But Lana’s mind had gone off on another tangent. “You’re married to a woman who’s eight months pregnant and you don’t know for sure where she is?” she demanded, bouncing up from her husband’s hold again to face Michael head-on. Her indignation was palpable. “What if she goes into labor?”

  “She has a phone.”

  “She knows where you are?”

  “I have the cell phone.”

  “She’ll call you?”

  “I…yes.” He fell silent. Would she? She’d promised.

  Maybe she wouldn’t.

  She would.

  “You’re worrying about her, aren’t you?” Lana said triumphantly. “You care about her.”

  “Lana, she’s my secretary. She might have been hired as a temp, but she’s the best assistant I ever had. This way…this way I get to keep her.”

  “As your secretary?”

  “Yeah. Why else would I want her?”

  She stared. “How about as a wife?”

  He sighed. “How often do I have to say it, Lana? This is a business arrangement. She needs to stay in the country, and I appreciate her secretarial skills. There’s no way I want to marry anyone else, so what’s the problem?”

  “Does she have anyone else?” Lana demanded. “Friends? Family? Or is she completely alone?”

  “I guess she has friends.” He didn’t know. Hell, he didn’t know!

  “Are you bringing her to the wedding?” Lana had moved into organization mode.

  “Wedding?”

  “Camille and Jake’s wedding,” Lana said patiently. “It’s here. Tomorrow. Remember? Don’t tell me you didn’t notice the marquee on the front lawn.”

  “Yeah, but…” Okay, he’d forgotten. After all, Jake and Camille had had a civil ceremony a few months ago, but Megan had convinced them to hold a formal ceremony so the whole family and their friends could attend. A wedding. Heck, why had he ever accepted the invitation? He hated them. He’d barely gotten over Lana’s wedding. Or his own.

  “Bring her, Mike,” Lana said firmly. “Let us all meet her. I know her a bit from popping in to see you at work, but I don’t know her well. She’s always friendly, but just efficient friendly, if you know what I mean. We need to get together.”

 

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