At First Sight

by Linda Cajio

  Dan smiled as he watched her leave the room. She was relaxing, and he was inordinately pleased about that. Actually, he thought, the marriage was going very well—especially at night. She might not be initiating their lovemaking, but she was a willing participant. In a way, they were still circling each other cautiously. He had a good idea that wouldn’t pose a problem for too much longer. But he was through rushing their relationship.

  The telephone rang, and he groaned. He was too comfortable to get up and answer it. Besides, Patrick was happily trying to eat his tie, and he didn’t have the heart to shift him. Angelica, however, came to the rescue.

  “I’ll get it,” she called from the bedroom.

  “You’re a wonderful woman,” he called back.

  She made a rude comment which he chose to ignore. Instead, he stretched out on the sofa and settled the baby on his chest. Finally and at last, things seemed to be smoothing out, he thought contentedly, and closed his eyes.

  “I saw ya on the TV with my kid.”

  Angelica’s stomach lurched at the words spoken by the hard young female voice on the other end of the line.

  “Who is this?” she asked numbly.

  “Who do you think?”

  Angelica tried to calm her racing heart. “What do you want?”

  “Well, I been thinkin’ that you sure did look happy with the kid. You and that rich guy you married. You’re rich, too, aren’t ya?”

  Angelica didn’t bother to correct the girl.

  “People didn’t like it that you two weren’t married before. But ya got married, didn’t ya? I think you and I should have a chat about that.”

  Angelica knew she should encourage the girl to call the authorities. She knew that if she couldn’t talk the girl into that, she should report this conversation herself.

  “I agree,” she said, deciding a little chat alone first wouldn’t hurt. “If you would like to come here—”

  “No!” She clearly heard the panic in the girl’s voice. “No, you meet me at Pioneer Square, in front of the Bay Café. And the talk is just between you and me, lady. You got that?”

  Angelica drew in a deep breath. “Yes.”

  “Good. Be there in fifteen minutes.”

  The phone clicked dead before she could say anything. She hung up the receiver and stood still for a moment. Time was precious, but she’d waste more if she panicked. She would be better off if she pulled herself together first.

  Dammit, she thought angrily. Why now? Why did Patrick’s mother have to show up at all? She knew she had to tell Dan, and she slowly walked into the sitting room.

  Her heart turned over when she saw him dozing on the sofa, little Patrick snuggled against him. The baby was contentedly sucking on his thumb while his other hand explored Dan’s nose and mouth.

  In that instant, she realized she was in love with Dan. She had tried too hard to convince herself that she wasn’t, and she’d nearly succeeded. It was all so clear to her now why she had married him, in spite of her doubts and insecurities. Dan was a part of her. The most important part. She had fought and argued and married and made love with him, and she’d done it for the sake of love.

  And then there was Patrick. She didn’t know what his mother wanted, but she would damn well find out, she thought. She couldn’t let anything come between the three of them again. They were a family now. The thing she had been so afraid of had finally happened, and she admitted that she was relieved that it had. She had always preferred her crises to be up-front.

  She walked over to the sofa and bent down to kiss Patrick. The baby raised his head and grinned sloppily at her. A fierce possessiveness shot through her, and she kissed the beloved funny little face again.

  She knelt down next to Dan and opened her mouth to tell him of the phone call … and stopped herself. The girl had made it clear that only she should come. She wouldn’t be expecting Dan. Angelica knew that if she told Dan he would insist on coming, and if he did, the girl might panic and run. The worst part was, they wouldn’t even know it. She couldn’t let that happen.

  Pushing the hair off his brow, she whispered, “Danny, I’m going now.”

  He blinked once, then opened his eyes. “Okay. Bring back something sexy.”

  “For me or for you?” she asked softly.

  He came fully awake at the teasing remark. Gazing at her, he asked, “Are you being provocative?”

  “Yes,” she said firmly. “And if you’re lucky, I’ll seduce you later.”

  “I will be damned,” he said breathily and in awe.

  “You will be loved.”

  She rose to her feet and walked out the door.

  Ten

  Angelica assessed the young woman sitting across the small table from her, and readily admitted she didn’t care for what she could see. The girl was in her early twenties and blowsy, and her jeans and zippered sweatsuit jacket needed contact with soap and water. It wasn’t that so much, Angelica thought. It was the uncaring hardness in the girl’s eyes that infuriated her beyond reason.

  The girl drank her soda and chewed on the ice. Angelica left her coffee untouched in front of her. Her mind twisted away from the thought of sharing something as normal as a drink with the girl.

  She had given her name as Jane Smith. Angelica knew it wasn’t her real one. And that was fine. Angelica didn’t want to know anything about the woman that she would have to connect with Patrick. She didn’t want Patrick to be a part of this person. Her only consolation was that Patrick held no physical trace of the dark-haired, sallow-skinned Jane Smith.

  “How could you leave Patrick like that?” she asked, remembering the baby on the bed unprotected from rolling off. She had never quite been able to believe that anyone would callously dump a child, especially one like Patrick.

  The girl laughed. “Is that what you call him? Mar—I called him Jimmy.”

  Angelica hated the name instantly. Her anger at the girl’s attitude was mounting with each moment. She wanted to slap Jane Smith. Instead, she forced her shaking hands to remain still on her lap. She was dimly aware of people laughing and chatting at the other tables of the Bay Café, and the normal behavior grated on her nerves.

  “Why did you abandon your child?” she asked coldly. “A tiny baby left—”

  “I—I had to! I couldn’t take care of him no more. I was scared to keep him. It was so hard to feed him.…”

  The girl’s voice was becoming more and more whiny and ingratiating.

  “I see.” Angelica eyed her suspiciously at the sudden change in personality. “Maybe you better tell me why you asked me to meet you.”

  The girl now looked confused, as if Angelica had asked her to jump off a cliff. At least, Angelica thought with relief, the girl was still in her chair. She’d almost lost her temper, and that might have chased Jane Smith away.

  The girl seemed to come to some inner decision and relaxed again.

  “Well … see … I see ya on the news, talking about the baby and stuff, and sayin’ that you were taking care of him. You really love him, don’t ya?”

  “Yes,” Angelica said, easily sensing where the girl was headed. After all, she was hardly being subtle.

  “Well, I want you to have him, see? I think that would be real nice. But you can’t have him unless I say you can, right?”

  Here it comes, Angelica thought with growing disgust.

  “Like, so, maybe we could arrange something, maybe …”

  “Yes?” she prompted, when the girl hesitated.

  “Well, see, I do wanna sign papers or whatever saying I give the kid to you.”

  “A private adoption.”

  “Yeah, right,” the girl said brightly. “A private adoption. I mean, I have bills and stuff from when I had him. Babies cost lots, so I’m gonna need money.…”

  “I see,” Angelica said. She saw all too well. The girl wanted money for Patrick. Anger, pure and hot, poured through her at the thought, and yet she wasn’t at all surprised. Calmly, she
said, “I’m afraid there are complications to doing that, since Patrick has been made a ward of the state.”

  “But …” The girl looked flummoxed. “But, he’s my kid.”

  “That’s debatable,” Angelica muttered.

  “What?”

  She cleared her throat. “The state has custody of Patrick now. If you want the child back—”

  “But I don’t want him!” the girl exclaimed.

  Angelica tried not to let her vast relief show. That had been a fear she hadn’t dared to acknowledge. “The point is that you will have to sign away any rights to the baby with the state. They, in turn, will make him available for adoption. And then my husband and I can apply for him.”

  “But I left him at the hotel!” The girl looked ready to bolt out of her chair, as she glanced wildly around the café. “I heard about your … husband, that he was rich, so I left Jimmy in his room. If I wanted the … state, I woulda gave the baby to them!”

  Heads turned toward them in curiosity, and Angelica rushed in. “I understand that, Ms. Smith. Really, I do. And I’m trying to help you. But a private adoption isn’t possible now. I’m also a lawyer, and I know this. You really do need to get in touch with the State Social and—”

  “No!” the girl nearly shrieked. “I can’t do none of this state stuff.”

  Angelica began again. “I know you’re scared. But they’ll understand that you’re young, and you were unsure of how to proceed about giving up a baby. It’s happened before. My friend Martha will help you and … the baby. But if you truly want him to go to a good home, then you’re going to have to legally give him up. And you can’t do that unless you get in touch with the authorities.”

  “No!” The girl’s eyes were almost wild with fear.

  “Okay,” Angelica said soothingly, terrified the girl would break for the door. “It’s okay. I really want to help you … Jane. You say you want to give Patrick to us, and we want him. But you need to understand what’s involved here.”

  The girl sat warily on the edge of her chair. “I’m not going to no State Social and … and—”

  “Health Services.” Angelica stared at the girl. “Then I don’t know how you can help the baby.”

  “Can’t I just sign a paper or something now that says I give the child to you?” the girl asked.

  Angelica carefully began to frame an answer. “With the state involved—”

  To her complete astonishment, the girl suddenly scrambled out of the chair and ran for the door.

  “Wait!” she shouted, jumping up and running after her. “Dammit, wait a minute!”

  A couple came into the café just as the girl reached the door. Angelica cried out in frustration as Jane Smith ducked around the couple and out of the café.

  “Why didn’t you stop her?” she demanded, while playing bob-and-weave as the couple and she tried to sidestep each other.

  “What?”

  She raced outside the café precious seconds later only to find the girl had disappeared into the heavy flow of shoppers and tourists. Cursing fervently, she spun around in a circle, her gaze searching the crowd. No running form caught her eye.

  She had lost “Jane Smith.”

  “Damn, damn, damn!” she exclaimed, balling her hands into fists.

  She had pushed too hard, she berated herself. She’d thought she could talk to the girl, and she had been wrong. Worse, she could easily imagine what Martha Canfield would have to say about this disaster. Then she imagined what Dan would have to say. Then she groaned aloud.

  “She asked only for me, Dan.…”

  Dan listened to Angelica explain her little shopping trip detour with an outward calmness that surprised him. The anger inside him felt ready to erupt at any second.

  “… Besides, I didn’t want to involve you since I should have reported the contact right away to Martha.”

  “That’s no excuse for not telling me,” he said, glowering at her.

  “Yes, it is,” she said, glowering back. She was holding Patrick strategically in front of her. “It was enough for me to take the chance. You know you would have insisted on going. And that would have scared the girl away, so what good would it have done to tell you?”

  He wondered if she were right, then decided it was still no excuse. She should have told him about the phone call from Patrick’s mother. It had been foolish of her to keep it from him. Fear surfaced in his mind. Anything could have happened to her, and nobody would have known where she was.

  “You should have told me,” he said. They were the only words he could get out at the moment.

  “You would have insisted on going!” she repeated. “I couldn’t trust you not to.”

  Pain, deep and wounding, knifed through his body. He suddenly realized that was the real heart of the matter. Despite all they had shared, she couldn’t trust him. She hadn’t trusted him again. Nothing had changed between them. He thought about the words she had said right before she left. They had been a lie to soothe and mislead him from seeing or sensing something was up with her.

  He turned away from her abruptly and walked over to one of the sitting room chairs. He sat down heavily on it.

  “Dan, please try to understand,” she said, following him. “I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “You still don’t understand about trust, do you?” he asked. “I thought you were going to give this marriage a chance.”

  “I was!” she nearly shouted. “I was giving it the best chance—”

  “No,” he broke in, before she could say more. “It’s exactly what you were not doing. Giving it a chance means sharing. You don’t know how to share. You didn’t even consider that this was information I was entitled to know.”

  “Dammit! Will you listen? This had nothing to do with trusting you.”

  “It has everything to do with it.”

  “Danny, Patrick’s mot—Jane Smith said only I could meet her! She probably would have taken off if she’d seen you with me.”

  “That is not the point here,” he said harshly.

  “Are you telling me that you wouldn’t have insisted on going?”

  “I …” He stared at her for a long moment. “I truthfully don’t know, but—”

  “See?” she cried triumphantly.

  “I was going to add that I wasn’t given the chance to find out.”

  She gazed at him mutely.

  “I wasn’t given the chance,” he repeated numbly. “You never gave anything between us a chance.”

  “No,” she whispered, then added more forcefully, “No. Dan, don’t you understand? As a lawyer, I’m an officer of the court, and I couldn’t involve you in any trouble that might come out of this for me. And, dammit, the girl was expecting only me! Anyone else would have scared her away.”

  “You said she saw the television interview,” he reminded her. “She would have known who I was—if I had gone with you.”

  “Dan, I trust you. Please understand—”

  “Oh, I understand all right.”

  “No, you don’t. I wanted to help get Patrick free. For you.”

  He closed his eyes. It was just like her to have a noble reason on top of everything else, he thought. But the truth, no matter how it was wrapped, was still the truth. She hadn’t trusted him. Without trust, how could they have a marriage? How could they have anything?

  He stood up. “I’ve got some work to do.”

  He went into the bedroom and shut the door.

  Angelica sat on the bed in her old room in the suite and stared at the wall. Patrick had been put to bed for the night, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing between his guardians. Dan had again retreated to his suite, the door shut.

  She admitted to herself she was afraid to invade his privacy. She had been sharing his bed, giving the marriage a “chance,” but he’d made it clear he didn’t want her anymore. She was so fragile now, she couldn’t open that door and face a physical rejection too. She’d break into a thousand pi
eces.

  None of her reasons for excluding him mattered really, she thought, closing her eyes in pain. What mattered was that she had hurt Dan, and she wished with all her heart she could take it back. But how? Meeting with that girl had had nothing to do with trust or the lack of it.

  But he saw it that way, and she had no idea how to correct his notion. Clearly, his idea of trust was quite different from her own.

  She had been deluding herself, she thought. She and Dan weren’t any closer to agreeing on fundamentals than they had ever been. She had allowed herself to be swept away by … love. She had known better, but despite all her fears, it had happened anyway. She had fallen in love, and now it was turning on her. “Killing her softly,” she thought. Funny how apt that song title was.

  She had no one to blame but herself. She’d gone into this, if reluctantly, with her eyes wide open. Now it was falling apart, just as she’d been afraid it would.

  Realizing she’d been sitting there on the bed for a long time, she finally forced herself to get up. She walked quietly into the baby’s room, glanced once at the closed door to the other bedroom, and sat down on the sofa. She watched Patrick suck on his thumb as he slept. Her heart flipped over … and she realized who really had been hurt by today’s fiasco with Jane Smith.

  “What else was I supposed to do, Patrick?” she whispered.

  The baby moved slightly and smiled around his thumb, as if to say he understood she had done her best for him and he forgave her anyway.

  The door to the other suite opened, startling her out of her thoughts.

  “Is something wrong with Patrick?” Dan asked. He was standing in the doorway, dressed in his robe.

  She drew in a deep breath, acutely conscious of her own thin cotton nightgown and matching robe. “No. I … just thought I’d sit with him for a while.”

  He turned away and stared at the baby. “It’s very late.”

  She glanced at her watch and noted it was after two. “Yes. Were you working?”