Wednesday's Child

by Leigh Michaels

  “As if money matters to me. I wouldn’t take a filthy dime from you if I was starving.”

  He leaned back in his chair. “Layne, what are you fighting about? What are you giving up by coming to Wheatlands for two months? You don’t have a job to speak of. If you want to continue your business, I’m sure we can find a place for you to work. At the end of the summer you’ll have a divorce and alimony, which will make it easier than you’ve ever had it before.”

  “And lose my son.”

  “You’ll have had two months with him that you would have missed otherwise. One way or

  the other, I’m taking him home from the hospital, Layne — home to Wheatlands. You can come there, make it easier on him while he recuperates, and enjoy having him to yourself without worrying about where next month’s rent is coming from. Or you can fight me and end up hurting Robbie and yourself. If you’re not afraid of me, Layne, then just what are you afraid of? Now which is it going to be?”

  He was right. There was hurt for her whichever road she took, but if she didn’t go with Robbie, he would feel that she had turned her back on him. If she was going to lose Robbie anyway, and she knew Kyle well enough to know that he would not back down, then she did not want Robbie to suffer shame or hurt or embarrassment.

  “Damn you, Kyle,” she said bitterly.

  “Does that mean Yes, thank you, I’ll come?”

  “I’ll come. Till Labor Day, correct? And you did say that appearances are your only

  concern in this reconciliation?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Disappointed, Layne?”

  “Hardly.”

  He didn’t appear to have heard. “The appearances had better be good. They’ll have to be, to convince my father.”

  “Well, we had everyone convinced that we were made for each other last time, didn’t we?

  I’m sure we can do it again. But perhaps you should let Jessica in on the secret. She didn’t look too thrilled at seeing me again, and I’m certain she won’t be happy at the prospect of keeping your affair circumspect.”

  “I’ll tell you what I’ll do, Layne. Since Jessica obviously bothers you, I’ll contract to give her up for the duration.”

  “No sleeping with Jessica?” Layne didn’t quite believe what she had heard.

  “None. Of course, there will be no sleeping with Gary either. Fair is fair.”

  “Don’t worry about it. But don’t think you’re going to substitute me when you get lonely.”

  Kyle finished off the champagne in his glass and set it down with a thump. “I’ve lived quite happily for nine years without making love to you, Layne. I think I can hold out for one more summer.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The waiting room was quiet except for Kyle’s deep, steady voice dictating letters into a miniature tape recorder. Across the room from him was Clare, curled up in a chair and

  apparently absorbed in her magazine.

  Layne stared out the window at the parking lot baking under the July sunshine, listened to Kyle’s business correspondence, and thought she would surely go mad.

  Two floors below the waiting room, in surgery, Robbie was lying unconscious while they reconstructed his ankle. She really wasn’t worried about Robbie, Layne told herself. She was certain that the doctors were taking every possible precaution.

  Dr. Morgan had been in Robbie’s room for only a few minutes this morning, but it had

  obviously taken just seconds for him to make the connection between Robbie Emerson,

  orthopedic surgery patient, and Kyle Emerson, the contractor who had built the hospital. He had looked impressed, and he hadn’t made any more remarks about her calling the welfare office.

  Yes, Layne was certain that Robbie was getting the best of care.

  Kyle snapped the recorder off and dropped it into his briefcase. “You look exhausted today, Layne,” he commented.

  Layne jumped and turned from the window, digging her hands into the deep pockets of the blue sun dress. “Robbie didn’t sleep very well,” she said. “I’m glad I stayed with him last night.

  He’s never been in a hospital before.”

  He looked her over carefully. “Perhaps it’s the dress, too,” he said. “Blue never was your color.”

  “Thanks, Kyle.” Sarcasm dripped from the words. “Sometimes when one is on a limited

  budget one buys what one can afford, and not what one would like to have.” As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. He’d probably think she’d changed her mind about

  accepting an allowance from him.

  He merely raised a dark eyebrow and said mildly, “Even inexpensive clothes come in

  flattering colors, Layne. Would you like more coffee, Clare?”

  Clare hadn’t said a word in the last hour. She shook her head, and Kyle got up to refill his cup from the machine.

  Layne looked over at her friend. The strain of sitting here was showing on Clare, too. It didn’t take an expert to be aware of the tension that hung in the waiting room. It felt like a battle zone.

  It had been less than forty-eight hours since their supposed reconciliation had taken place, and the only one on whom the strain wasn’t already showing was Robbie. He was delighted at the idea of having two full-time parents. And he was too young even to question why, if they were so anxious to give their marriage another chance, they weren’t living in the same house yet.

  Layne didn’t want to face the idea that as soon as Robbie was released from the hospital, they would go straight to Mission Hills and Wheatlands. It was all too soon, she thought. Perhaps if she had had a few weeks to absorb it, to get herself ready, to prepare Robbie...

  When she thought about Robbie, though, Layne couldn’t regret that she was going along.

  She could survive two months at Wheatlands if it made the change easier for Robbie. It would be a tremendous adjustment for him, and he would need all the support she could give him.

  He would like Wheatlands, though. The house was a jewel. She had always loved it, from the first day.

  “Has Wheatlands changed?” she asked tentatively, hoping to let Kyle see that she wasn’t as opposed to going there as she had been. Had it been only two days ago that they had talked about it at Felicity’s?

  “I haven’t kept it a shrine to your memory, if that’s what you’re asking.” He wasn’t looking at her as he said it, and his tone was casual.

  Layne controlled her voice with an effort. “If it hadn’t changed at all, it would still hardly be a shrine to my memory. I didn’t even move the furniture, if you remember.”

  Kyle stirred his coffee and returned to his seat. Perhaps you’re right.” He looked her over thoughtfully. “I never paid any attention.”

  I didn’t dare, Layne thought, and allowed herself an instant of self-pity. I was too afraid you wouldn’t like it, and I couldn’t stand it if you disapproved of me.

  “You adored Wheatlands just the way it was. Down to the last detail,” Kyle mused. “Did you marry me because you wanted to play house at Wheatlands? If so, the charm wore off very quickly.”

  Clare set her magazine down and groped for her shoes, and Layne shook her head. Don’t leave me, Clare, she pleaded with her eyes, and Clare raised her eyebrows and looked even more desperate to escape. But she relented and stayed in the room.

  Layne pulled a chair around to face the window and sat down. She didn’t answer his

  question, but she couldn’t help giving in to the flood of old memories that swept over her.

  She had wanted to change things at Wheatlands. Not major things, just bits and pieces. And she had been afraid to. Wheatlands was so old and so elegant, and she was so young and so inexperienced, that she had been unable to trust her own taste.

  Now she was going back, and she would still be the outsider. Obviously Jessica Tate didn’t feel the same way, though. If she was helping to choose comforters for the master bedroom...

  Layne’s chair wasn’t comfortable. She pe
rched on the windowsill and watched cars pull

  into the parking lot. Visiting hours must be officially open, she thought. Robbie was taking a great deal of time down in surgery.

  “You’ve changed, Layne,” Kyle added. “You’re independent and much more self-assured.

  You used to be a little mouse who would never say anything until you’d checked it out for approval.”

  For your approval, she thought sadly. What he thought had always been most important.

  Layne swung around from the window. “What did you see in that little mouse that made

  you marry me, Kyle?” Would he tell her the truth? She braced herself against, the window ledge.

  Perhaps it would be better to have it out in the open, she thought, than to go on this way.

  Kyle sipped his coffee and set the cup aside. “I don’t remember,” he said flatly, and opened his briefcase with a snap.

  Layne looked over at Clare, who rolled her eyes. Layne almost started to laugh.

  Illogically, she was relieved. He didn’t want to hurt her by detailing the truth, she thought.

  Then she started to wonder. Did he realize that she already knew the answer to her question? Had Jessica bragged of what she had done that day at Wheatlands?

  It was another half hour before he looked up again. “Would you stop pacing that floor?” he demanded.

  Layne stopped in the center of the shiny tiles. “Which floor would you prefer me to pace?

  It’s taking too long. He should have been back up here by now.”

  “They don’t allow anyone in the recovery area, so Robbie will be back in his own room by the time they call us. It takes a little time.”

  She turned her back on him again.

  “You really care about him, don’t you, Layne?”

  “Of course I do. He’s my son.”

  “He’s mine, too. So why don’t you think I care about him?”

  He seemed to know that she would not answer. He picked up his briefcase. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. I’m going to go make some telephone calls.”

  As soon as he was gone, Clare uncurled from her chair and stretched. “Layne, it’s driving me crazy to sit here and watch him take potshots at you. Just how in heaven’s name do you expect to live through two months of it?”

  “I don’t plan to spend much time in the same room with him, that’s how. Clare, you’re a darling to stay here.”

  “It seems as if Robbie’s taking forever.”

  “I know. How do people stand these places, anyway? And this is only minor surgery. How do parents make it through their child’s open-heart surgery, or something serious?”

  “You do what you have to do,” Clare said, and shrugged her shoulders. “The human animal is amazing. And I suppose that’s how you can make it through the summer, too. Are you going to keep your house, so you can move back to it in the autumn?”

  “No. I called the landlord last night and told him. There’s no point to it; Robbie won’t be coming back with me and I don’t need the house if I don’t have a boy and a dog. An apartment will be plenty.” Layne’s voice was cheerfully determined.

  Clare looked as if she didn’t believe a word of it. “Is Kyle going to let him keep Beast?”

  “I think making him leave the dog would be the only thing Kyle could do that might give Robbie second thoughts. And Kyle was smart enough not to do it. Beast moves to Wheatlands with us.”

  “Now that’s coming up in the world, for a stray sheepdog to end up in Mission Hills.”

  “Beast will love it. The social level of cats is much higher, and he’ll soon discover that it’s a lot more fun to tree a registered Persian than an ordinary calico. Nobody calls the fire department to rescue the calico.”

  Clare laughed. Then she said, “You’re all right as long as he’s not around, aren’t you?

  Kyle, I mean.”

  Layne nodded, “I doubt he’ll be there much. He used to work fearful hours, and I can’t imagine that he’ll have relaxed that. So when he’s gone, I’ll have Robbie. And when Kyle gets home, I’ll retreat into the closet until he leaves, so I don’t interfere with his time with Robbie.”

  “It all sounds so fearfully cold.”

  “Of course it is, Clare. Neither one of us wants to do this, but we do have to watch out for Robbie, and he won’t be helped by a battle between us or by losing contact with me.”

  “I can’t imagine that he’ll be helped much by seeing this farce of a marriage, either.”

  “It’s better than the alternative.” Layne swung her foot, deciding that she had to buy shoes soon. There was nothing left on her closet floor that was fit to wear. “Didn’t you say Gary would stop by?”

  “Yes, but he had something to do first. Can’t remember what it was.” She saw Layne

  studying her shoe, and said, “We need to go shopping, Layne. You can’t go out there with the clothes you’ve got.”

  Layne shook her head. “I can’t afford to buy more, and I won’t spend a dime. I have little enough hoarded as it is, to get me through the summer.”

  “Won’t Kyle give you an allowance?”

  “He’s suggested it. But I don’t want to owe him a cent. Even if it’s actually my father’s money that he gives me, Kyle will expect something in return. I have my pride, Clare.”

  “I know,” Clare sighed.

  “And if he doesn’t like the way I look, he can just put up with it. It won’t hurt him to suffer a little aggravation. What good would a Mission Hills wardrobe do me two months from now?”

  “Plenty, when you go back to work. He’s right, you know. Even inexpensive clothes come in flattering colors, and that blue was a mistake.”

  Layne held up a fold of the skirt as if inspecting it for the first time. “Robbie liked it.”

  “So let’s make him a shirt out of it.” Clare looked up as Gary came in. “It’s about time,”

  she told him.

  “Sorry. Why is it always the mornings I’m in a hurry that everything runs late?” he mused.

  He rested his folded arms along the back of Layne’s chair. “We need to have a talk, Layne,” he said, and nuzzled the nape of her neck.

  “About what?” Layne asked. She sat up straight, uncomfortably shifting away from his

  touch. She hadn’t seen him since he had left her house, declaring that he had some things to think about. She wondered what conclusions he had come to.

  “About us,” he said. He sounded a little surprised.

  Clare glanced at her watch and reached for her shoes. “I really have to be going,” she said.

  “Give my love to Robbie — I will see him again, won’t I?”

  “I’m not sure, Clare. We won’t be coming back to the house, but you can always come and visit us.”

  Clare nodded and brushed her lips against Layne’s cheek. “I’ll be thinking about you.” Her heels clicked away down the hall.

  Gary asked, frowning, “What do you mean, you won’t be coming back?”

  “Didn’t Clare tell you?” But obviously she hadn’t. “Robbie and I are going to Wheatlands as soon as he’s released from the hospital.”

  “What?” Gary almost screamed the word. “You’re going back to live with that man?”

  “Not exactly,” Layne parried. “It’s only for the summer.”

  “Oh, just a brief fling, right?” He paced across the room. “Layne, I love you, but I can’t put up with any more of these games.”

  “I’m not playing games. Kyle is going to take Robbie to live at Wheatlands whether I go or not. And it will be a lot easier on Robbie if he has me to rely on until he gets used to his new surroundings.”

  Gary shook his head. “I should have expected it. After all, what am I, beside Kyle

  Emerson?” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

  “It’s got nothing to do with Kyle. I’m only going because of Robbie.”

  “I don’t believe what I’m hearing. You swore that your marriage w
as over. You even let me believe that you were divorced and done with him. Then as soon as he snaps his fingers you’re right back in line to get into his bed. Well, Layne ...”

  “I am not going to be in his bed!” Layne was furious. “Gary, I’ve made no promises to you.

  Right now my son is the most important thing in my life. I will do whatever Robbie needs. And he needs me to be at Wheatlands this summer.”

  Gary just shook his head. Finally, he said softly, “You’re lying, Layne. To me, and I think even to yourself. I’m not staying around for any more of it.” He didn’t look back.

  At the door, he brushed past Kyle, muttering something under his breath. Kyle’s eyebrows drew together, and for a split second Layne wondered if he was going to put his fist through Gary’s face. But the instant passed so quickly that she told herself she had imagined it.

  She sat frozen in her chair. Kyle regarded her thoughtfully as he retrieved his cup and refilled it. He sat down across from her, still watching her over the rim of the cup. Finally he said, “Volatile, isn’t he? I suppose you told him that you wouldn’t be sleeping with him this summer. Didn’t he take it very well?”

  Layne looked up. “For your information, Kyle, I haven’t been sleeping with Gary,” she

  snapped.

  “Oh? It certainly didn’t look that way to me. The first morning I came to your house he was in the bedroom when I arrived. Was he just getting up, or was he waiting for you to come back to bed?”

  “He wasn’t in the bedroom! He...” What was the use, she asked herself. Kyle had made up his mind and he would believe as he chose. He certainly wouldn’t believe the story about Beast and the coffee cup — at least not until he knew the dog better.

  “Poor Layne,” he mused. “Your love affairs never have gone smoothly, have they? Tell

  me, have there been many men in your life? And have they all been like Gary?” The tone of his voice suggested that, if so, there was something remarkably wrong with her.

  Layne was still groping for words when a young nurse came to the door of the waiting