by Nancy Bush
“I’d like you to be there with me, when she and I meet.”
With a feeling of unreality still dogging him like a bad smell, Jake let himself into the Beckett home, his footsteps loud in the hallway. His entry didn’t go unnoticed. He heard animated voices suddenly hush from behind Patrice’s sitting room door.
No time like the present for delivering unpleasant news, he thought, recognizing one of the voices as Caroline’s.
They say revelations happen to us all, and at that moment, Jake Beckett had a revelation — and that revelation was that he was chock full of bullshit. He’d made himself believe that he and Caroline were a perfect match when in reality they were completely wrong for each other. Together, they were colorless and empty, and Jake finally recognized how hard he’d hung on to this delusion because he hadn’t wanted to really face the future.
He couldn’t believe himself. It had been Sherry from the beginning. From the time they were barely older than kids. Could love really last that long? Be that enduring despite such a brief, shaky start?
His inaction for so many years suddenly felt like a betrayal. He wanted movement. Change. A leap toward an uncertain but exciting future. All this time spent half at his place, half at the family home. He’d been waiting for the break. Wanting something to come along and slap him on the head — and it finally had.
Without knocking, he flung open the sitting room door. Patrice gazed at him over the tops of her glasses, her ubiquitous crossword puzzle folded neatly on her lap. Caroline stood at the window, her hands clasped in front of her, her expression hard to read. Jake didn’t care. He was emancipated, and in his emancipation he spoke what he felt.
“I’ve been with Sherry.”
Caroline stiffened and a sound of protest slipped past her tight lips before she could hold it back. Recklessly, Jake added, “She told me I’m a father. I have a fourteen-year-old daughter with her.”
Caroline’s regal jaw dropped. She gaped at him in pure shock. Jake felt a pang of regret that quickly changed to wonder and fury when he realized that Patrice betrayed no emotion whatsoever.
“You knew,” he said softly. “All these years, you knew.”
She didn’t deny it. Nor did she look the least little bit remorseful. “It was the only reason that made sense that she left,” she stated primly.
Jake reeled. “You didn’t tell me.”
“Would it have made a difference? You were a child yourself.”
“I may have been a kid, but I was eighteen!”
Caroline slumped onto the window seat, staring dazedly at the floor. Patrice threw her an impatient glance, as if annoyed by her lack of backbone. But it was Caroline whom Jake suddenly wanted to comfort. Her reaction was at least real and heartfelt. His mother’s was alien to him.
“I don’t believe this,” he muttered hoarsely.
Patrice was furious. “I knew that’s why she came back. Just to torture you and turn your life into a circus!”
“Caroline,” Jake murmured, moving toward her as if in a fog.
“You spent last night with her?” she asked stiffly.
Jake couldn’t deny it. “Yes.”
“Did you come here to tell me it’s over between us?”
“He did not!” Patrice answered for him, throwing the crossword to the floor and rising to her feet in a tower of fury.
“I can’t have the two of you run my life anymore,” Jake told Caroline. “That’s over. I’m going to meet my daughter. I’m going with Sherry.”
Patrice stared at him as if he’d grown reptilian scales. “J.J., I — ”
“Don’t say it. I don’t want to hear it.”
“You can’t just leave. The business needs you!”
Very specifically, he told her what she could do with the business.
Twin spots of color flared in his mother’s cheeks. “She took money, J.J. That’s what she wanted, you know. She chased you down because you could give her a future. She got herself pregnant to ensure that future.”
“Stop it.” Jake was terse.
“I gave her ten thousand dollars the first time. And she’s collected damn near a hundred thousand over the years! Yes, I should’ve told you rather than let her blackmail me, but damn it, I knew your ridiculous chivalry would create a worse problem!”
“You gave her money? You bought her off! You knew, really knew?”
Patrice hesitated for a moment, realizing she’d overplayed her hand. Shrugging impatiently, she barreled on, determined to have her say. “Did you hear how much money I’m talking about? Do you get it?”
“Damn you to hell,” Jake snarled through his teeth.
“I’ll show you the canceled checks. I’ve got every one of them.”
She walked to a drawer in the antique, roll-top desk, pulling out a neatly arranged pile of checks. Holding them in front of his nose, Patrice lifted her chin, but the desperation in her eyes gave her away.
Jake wanted to throw the checks in her face. He didn’t care. He didn’t give a good goddamn. He had a daughter and all the deceptions didn’t matter.
But they did…
Snatching the evidence of Sherry’s materialism, his heart shattered at the sight of her signature on the back of each and every check. Patrice hadn’t lied about the amount. Sherry had feathered her nest with about a hundred thousand dollars of Beckett money.
“You were a fool to let her take you,” he said into the silence that followed, then he swept away from his mother and the worst, most vulgar scene they’d played out in his entire life.
VALENTINE’S CHILD — NANCY BUSH
Chapter Ten
Patchy blue Seattle skies greeted Sherry and J.J. as they drove his newly fixed Jeep toward Sherry’s apartment. Sherry’s tension mounted with each mile that passed beneath the tires, drawing them further from Oceantides and closer to Mandy.
The Craigs had stayed beyond the weekend and were waiting in a kind of strained limbo for both of Mandy’s biological parents to arrive in Seattle. Sherry had spoken with Mandy briefly but most of her conversation had been with Gina Craig, who sounded as distracted and lost as Sherry felt.
“Mandy wants to stay, so we’ll stay. She can make up her classes. She’s a good student. She’s a good kid. She’s just got some things to sort through right now and it’s hard for her.” Gina had drawn a shaky breath. “But it’s good for her to close the chapter — or open it,” she added quickly, hearing how that sounded. “It’s important. Is — is her father anxious to meet her?”
Sherry understood the question. J.J. had been more of a phantom all these years than she had. “Very anxious.”
“Then we’ll see you on Wednesday,” Gina said, reiterating what they’d already discussed.
In the past few days Sherry had had little contact with J.J. She’d expected him to stop by or call. Their last moments together had been surprisingly tender, with J.J. struggling to come to terms with his new fatherhood. Since then, she’d sensed a withdrawal that left her a little baffled.
In their last conversation, in fact, J.J. had been terse to the point of rude.
“I’ll pick you up at noon on Wednesday, or as soon as I get the Jeep back.”
“Okay,” Sherry had agreed.
“Goodbye,” he’d responded shortly and she’d been left staring at the cell phone in her hand, wondering what in the world happened. J.J. seemed to yo-yo from acceptance to rejection with each passing hour. She never knew what to expect next.
Now, she stole a sideways glance at him. His jaw was set and his eyes were locked on the freeway, as if daring to meet her gaze would blind him. When he’d picked her up this morning he’d uttered less than ten words, and apart from a pleasant “Hello” to one of the motel’s maids whom Sherry half remembered from high school and who was also, therefore, an employee of Beckett Enterprises, J.J.’s face hadn’t altered one iota from its unforgiving frown.
But it was not her problem. She was a mass of nerves anyway. She hoped, prayed,
their coming meeting would be a joyous occasion, not confrontation. Maybe J.J. was as nervous as she was. Maybe that was it. Whatever the case, meeting Mandy was the first step toward the rest of all their lives. She had no idea what would come after.
“Turn here,” she directed, and J.J. silently guided the Jeep to the off-ramp and through the series of streets that led to Sherry’s apartment complex.
She had no feeling of coming home. The apartment, she realized distantly, meant as little to her as the colorless years of her life since high school. She’d been more alive and vibrant since Mandy had come into her life and she’d been forced to return to Oceantides. It was as if she’d been on sabbatical all these years. Absolutely everything had changed.
As soon as the Jeep was parked, Sherry slid out of the passenger door, glancing at the cars in the lot, wondering if one of them belonged to the Craigs. But no, she and J.J. were early. Mandy wouldn’t be here until dinnertime.
J.J. didn’t follow her to the door. “Are you coming?” she asked. He shook his head. His tension was palpable, and she felt a wave of empathy. “I can make coffee and sandwiches.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Neither am I.”
She let herself inside, flicking on lights against the growing darkness as night fell outside. Shivering a bit, she turned up the heat just as J.J., apparently reconsidering, stepped across the threshold and closed the door.
“I’m not hungry, but I’m freezing,” she said, plugging in the coffee maker.
J.J. stood at the edge of the cabinets that separated her U-shaped kitchen from the rest of the apartment. His silence unnerved her, and she kept her gaze on the coffee maker, watching steaming water gurgle through the filter. Now it was her turn to be unable to look at him.
“I know about the money.”
His voice could have chilled the Sahara. Sherry shivered and asked automatically, “The money?”
“That Patrice gave you.”
Sherry gazed at him in anguish. An unfathomable ache filled her chest. She was beaten. Aunt Elena had signed the check and she hadn’t stopped her. Sherry may have given her mother her life, but it had cost her J.J. “Aren’t you even going to try to deny it?” He asked hoarsely.
“I told the Patrice I’d pay her back.”
“Oh, God …” His words were a soft prayer. He sagged against the counter. Automatically she moved to help him but he jerked away and Sherry stopped short, stunned by his withdrawal.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Betrayal filled his eyes. “I always told myself you were different. All these years, at some level I believed you were the one. I lied to myself about it, but then suddenly, here you were. And I believed in you.”
Sherry couldn’t answer him. No excuse was good enough.
“You know I expected you to tell me it was all a trick. Something my mother managed to pull off. I never knew why she hated you so much. I couldn’t understand.” His voice broke and he stopped himself.
“J.J… .”
“Don’t call me that!” His voice shook with loathing. “I told you I loved you, but I don’t know you. It’s all a lie!”
“Mandy’s real.”
The buzz of Sherry’s apartment bell felt like an electric jolt.
“She’s here,” Sherry said. A shudder went through J.J.’s strong frame as she walked to the door, her legs lead weights. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed to twist the knob.
“Hi,” she greeted Mandy and Gina and Tom Craig. “We’ve been looking forward to seeing you …”
Sherry sat in an armchair, too exhausted to do more than cradle her cup of coffee and watch the proceedings as if she were an uninterested party. Tom and Gina Craig sat on the love seat that flanked her left side. J.J. and Mandy stood tensely near the counter that divided the kitchen from view. They clearly did not know what to do with each other, but their fascination was obvious. From the moment Mandy had crossed the threshold, she and J.J. hadn’t taken their eyes off each other. Having gone through the same experience so recently, Sherry could well understand their absorption and shock.
As for her, there was another kind of turmoil inside her breast. He hated her. She’d taken the money and he hated her. Why, in all the worry over their secret love child, had she never considered that this would be the mortal wound?
Gina leaned toward Sherry. “They look a lot alike, don’t they?”
“Yes.” Sherry attempted a smile.
“It’s all so difficult …”
Sherry nodded.
“I’ve worried for years,” Gina confided. “As an adoptive parent you know that someday your child’s going to ask questions. We never hid her adoption from her, but we didn’t encourage a lot of discussion, either. It was too hard. And then when Mandy wanted to find you, I resisted a little. I guess I was afraid she’d love you more.”
Sherry nearly choked on her coffee. Her gaze was on Mandy’s expressive face. Although Mandy tried to hide it, her delight in meeting her father was self-evident. Her cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes sparkled. She smoothed back one of her braids, her fingers twisting the rubber-banded end, a self-conscious gesture that displayed none of the defiance she’d shown when she’d first met Sherry.
“He didn’t know, did he?” Gina guessed, throwing a look at J.J.
“Pardon?”
“About Mandy. You told him after Mandy found you. That’s what took so long.”
“No, he didn’t know,” Sherry admitted.
“He’s not going to tell her. At least, not now. He’s going to protect you.”
Sherry laughed without humor. “He wouldn’t protect me. He’ll protect Mandy.”
“In time, it will all work out.” Gina smiled. “I really did worry a lot before. I was so afraid she would meet you both and all of a sudden you’d be this happy family, and Mandy would be gone.”
Tom reached over and silently clasped his wife’s hand. It was then Sherry realized that Gina was trembling; that this whole scenario was so incredibly hard on her.
“You never had to worry,” Sherry blurted out. “You’re her parents. You raised her. I can’t deny I haven’t had those same dreams, but that’s not the way it works.”
“When she got so belligerent, I blamed myself,” Gina murmured, tears developing in the corners of her eyes. “I wanted to just hold on and keep her home.”
“You can’t do that,” Tom muttered, as if he’d said it a thousand times before, which he probably had.
Gina nodded. “No, you can’t. But it’s so hard!”
“You’ve been really wonderful,” Tom interjected seriously. “Gina was so afraid, and so was I, that meeting her parents would backfire and Mandy would be more angry.”
Sherry twisted her cup in her hands and flipped a look at J.J. His animosity toward her was carefully veiled, or with any luck, momentarily forgotten, as he talked quietly with Mandy. “I think it’s a good thing.”
“Oh, it is.” Gina nodded. “I’m so glad.”
“I guess we’re all wondering what the future will bring,” Tom said, and at that moment there was a lull in J.J. and Mandy’s intimacy.
“Mandy says you’re not flying back until this weekend,” J.J. said to Tom and Gina. “If that’s the case, I’d like to invite you all to Oceantides, where I live.”
Mandy’s bright face turned eagerly to her parents. Tom and Gina looked uncertain, and the pain in Sherry’s breast swelled to drastic proportions. She wanted to be a part of this. She wanted to be invited, but she knew there was no hope.
“All right,” Tom agreed.
For a split-second J.J. glanced at Sherry. His thoughts were unreadable, but the slant of his jaw told a story of its own.
“I’m driving home tonight,” he suggested. “Why don’t I take you all to your hotel and we’ll pick up your luggage and go …”
The yearbook tumbled out of her closet as if it had been waiting for just the right moment to surprise her. Stuffed ben
eath the piles of belts and jewelry, she’d taken it to be part of the shelf during her search. Her eye had traveled over it a dozen times while she’d concentrated on more hidden areas where she’d assumed the yearbook must be.
Now, when one of her belts lopped down and impeded the closet door, she yanked the offending article out and the yearbook followed. A sense of premonition ticked icily down Sherry’s spine. Frozen for a moment, she almost reluctantly picked it up and carried it to the bed.
J.J. and company had been gone less than an hour, and in that time she’d desperately tried to put them out of her mind. Thinking about them was dangerous. She’d always wanted a family and for the second time in her life she was the uninvited and unwelcome interloper. Couldn’t she be a part of it? Couldn’t she?
She’d called Dee at work, but Dee had been unable to talk because she was working alone and there were just enough customers to keep interrupting their conversation. Sherry had offered to help, but Dee absolutely insisted she stay home and “work through this.” Sherry thought working at the deli might be a better antidote, but she could sense how weary she was. So, she’d prowled around the apartment in misery and frustration and then the yearbook had popped into her possession.
With slightly unsteady fingers she opened the gilt-edged cover. Memories from high school flooded her vision. Jennifer and Julie and Roxanne and Summer, and most of all, J.J. Beckett. Casually she turned the pages, lingering on his senior picture, consumed by how young he looked. How young she looked.
It was all well and good remembering, but it struck Sherry how incredibly long ago and far away it was.
His football pictures brought back an extra tingle of resentment. She’d been blamed, after all, for the team’s floundering in the play-offs. But seeing him drawn back for a pass, right hand in the air, his uniform mud spattered, a surge of players surrounding him, Sherry suddenly wondered what all the fuss was about. Why had she cared so much? Why had everyone? It was silly, really. A silly game. A silly time of her life. There was absolutely no reason to waste all this energy on something that, in the end, mattered so little.