In a Heartbeat

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Anna started at his touch, but didn’t immediately move her hand even though she knew she should. For that instant, there was a warm, tingling connection between them.

  “Molly and Josh were standing right next to an adult when I pulled up this afternoon,” she said, striving for composure. “I didn’t think about it, but I’ll bet it wasn’t by accident.”

  “No.” He sighed, taking his hand back as if unconsciously. “Sonja called me at work today to deliver a drunken tirade. Stupid, because I recorded her.”

  “Wait, isn’t that illegal?”

  “I checked. In Washington State, it’s okay if you inform the other party they’re being recorded. The informing part has to be on the recording. I have to admit, after the scene at the school, I set up Google Voice, just in case. I warned her right away that I was recording, but she didn’t let that stop her.”

  “Does she really think she has any chance of retaining custody?”

  “I doubt it. What I’m afraid is that she’ll try to grab Molly again, anyway. Her behavior isn’t exactly rational right now.”

  “That’s a scary possibility.” And a fear Anna shared.

  A sizzling sound made her jump. Water boiling over onto the burner. “Oh, heavens. Dinner is ready.”

  He made an obvious effort to smile. “You are staying to eat?”

  Embarrassed, she said, “If you don’t mind. I’m not as organized as usual tonight.”

  “Please,” he said simply, and went to call the kids to the table.

  Even Molly, the pickiest of the three kids, seemed to like the beef Stroganoff. Anna had learned that peas were also on her okay-vegetables list.

  Nate asked again about her day. Since they’d already covered how each of the kids’ days had gone, Anna chatted about the fun projects students had done in her classroom. “I really enjoyed leading the reading groups. It’s great seeing even a tiny breakthrough for a child who’s having difficulties.”

  She looked up from her plate to see two incredulous stares: Molly’s and Josh’s. “What?”

  Her son said, “But...we’re in second grade.”

  “Yes?”

  In almost the same tone, Molly said, “We do the same stuff.”

  “I know. I’d love to volunteer to help out in your room, like I did last year in Josh’s. If neither of you mind, I’ll talk to Mrs. Tate.”

  They exchanged a glance and seemed to come to a silent consensus. “That’s okay, I guess,” Josh said without a lot of enthusiasm. “But it’s not that much fun.”

  She laughed. “Moms and dads—and teachers —see it differently.”

  Their identical dubious expressions made her laugh again. Nate’s grin gave her another burst of pleasure, if only because she had someone else with whom to share these moments.

  Diverting Anna from her pang of guilt because Nate was taking Kyle’s place, Jenna proceeded to tell them all that she thought it sounded like fun, and she already knew her letters and how to spell a bunch of words.

  “Like bat. And cat and fat.”

  “Big whoopee,” Josh mumbled. “Those words are all the same except one letter.”

  Anna smiled at her. “That is excellent for a four-year-old. Just don’t start reading too well, or you won’t need to go to school at all.”

  Josh rolled his eyes and looked disturbingly like a teenager for a minute, while Jenna did a little flounce in her seat and stuck out her tongue at her brother.

  Nate chuckled.

  “What?” Anna asked.

  He kept smiling, his earlier grimness mostly gone. “You just reminded me how much I hated eating alone.”

  Only Anna knew what he was talking about.

  * * *

  ON WEDNESDAY, NATE walked beside his attorney out of the brick building where the hearing had been held. Relief made him feel as if he’d lost a hundred pounds.

  “Her visits with Molly do need to be supervised, but not necessarily by you,” his attorney said. “We can set up—”

  Nate lifted his hand. “Give me a minute, Keith.”

  He changed paths to cross Sonja’s. It hurt to see her face, bone white, eyes dark with pain and highlighted by the bruised skin in half circles beneath them. At the same time, anger still simmered—anger that had made him willing to crush her if that’s what it took to protect his child. He might know alcoholism was a disease, but it was a struggle to summon compassion.

  “You have to lick this, Sonja,” he said as gently as he could.

  “You really are a son of a bitch.” Her voice shook. Her hands did, too, he couldn’t help noticing. “You have no evidence I have ever been careless with Molly.”

  Maybe lying to herself was her only protection, but those lies also kept her from taking responsibility. And damned if he’d let her get away with that.

  “We both know that’s not true.” No more gentle; now, he sounded harsh even to his own ears. “Anytime you’re drunk, you’re useless if something bad happens. What if there was a fire or Molly got really sick in the middle of the night, and you’re passed out in bed? When you drank yourself into a stupor in front of her, you didn’t give a thought to how she’d feel. Molly was scared to death, Sonja. She’d been scared for a while. You just don’t want to see that.”

  “This from the man who failed her over and over again.” She glared at him. “All you’re doing is playing at being a real daddy. Let me know when you’re tired of it.” Then she strode away, arms crossed tightly.

  Hugging herself. Or trying to hide the tremor in her hands. The hearing had been held at two in the afternoon. Disturbed by the indication of withdrawal, he wondered whether she’d been boozing from the minute she got up in the morning ever since she’d escaped his watchful eye post-divorce. Or had her problem worsened after Molly’s near-drowning and Kyle Grainger’s death? Was she anesthetizing herself?

  Hell, he could diagnose her all day, but in the end, what it came down to was that she couldn’t be trusted with Molly.

  What he needed to think about was what he’d do if Sonja did complete treatment and succeed in staying sober, whether a few months down the line or a few years. Was he willing to hand over Molly and go back to being an every-other-weekend father? Could he and Sonja figure out a better arrangement?

  Or was he being seduced by Anna Grainger into thinking family life was fabulous? Would he be as eager to go home every day after work once she and her kids were gone?

  The answer didn’t help his mood.

  * * *

  ANNA WORKED TUESDAY in the same classroom, and Friday in a special-education class at another elementary school in the Lake Washington district. Both pleased and a little alarmed, she wondered whether she’d be working full-time before she knew it. Financially, it would be great, allowing her to save for the uncertain future.

  In other ways... She worried about the new issues because that was her way. What would the impact be on Jenna? She had fun spending a few hours here and there at Mrs. Schaub’s, but what if that changed to her being there all day, five days a week? Looking into more formal preschools was an option...but then again, as long as Jenna was happy, maybe Anna should leave well enough alone.

  And then there was the fact that her first obligation was to Nate and Molly. On working days, she was a lot more frazzled by the time she got the kids home. Had Nate even noticed the difference?

  She really should talk to him. Which was easy to think—and even easier to put off.

  Saturday morning, he rapped on the apartment door to say that he’d like to join her to watch Josh’s soccer game. As she’d discovered other weeks, that meant him assuming he’d drive. Did he ever let anyone else drive? On the other hand, the kids weren’t as squished in the back seat of his car as they were in hers, which cut down on the bickering.

  Roomy as the Lexus was, she felt too close to Nate in t
he front seat. Too conscious of his body, his every movement, the way the fabric in his chinos pulled taut over the long muscles in his thigh. When they reached the soccer fields, Anna all but leaped out of the car even if she immediately felt the cold drizzle on her face.

  They’d all brought raincoats, of course, and she had an umbrella. She’d noticed before that the fathers on the sidelines all pretended to be impervious to cold, sleet or pouring rain. Nate turned out to be no different, scoffing at the idea of using one.

  Today was her turn to provide snacks for the whole team. With the big cooler resting on his shoulder, Nate fell into step with her. As usual, Josh raced ahead as soon as he saw two teammates, one carrying a big net bag full of balls. The two girls lagged, but Anna could hear their voices.

  Nate touched Anna’s arm. “Once Molly and Jenna get distracted, can we talk?”

  Her pulse picked up speed. He might intend to ask her to stay longer...but what if, instead, he’d started looking for a permanent housekeeper willing to provide child care, too? What if he’d found someone and wanted to let her know when she needed to move out? The reminder of her vulnerability stung. She’d felt good about working three days this week, but she couldn’t support herself and the kids on the money she’d earned.

  She wanted to be a coward and put him off, but then she’d only worry more. So she said, “Sure,” as if his request was no big deal.

  By the time they reached the sideline, Josh was already warming up with his teammates. Molly and Jenna latched on to their usual crowd of girls and a few younger boys.

  Anna watched them start a game of tag, before suddenly realizing Nate still stood beside her, watching, too.

  For no good reason, she said aloud what she was thinking. “Most of those kids are older than Jenna. So why is she taking charge?”

  His mouth quirked. “She usually does. Are you just noticing?”

  “No.” Anna made a face. “I have a bossy daughter.”

  “And I have one who hangs back.” Of course he sounded rueful; a man so obviously accustomed to being in charge might well be dismayed to have a kid who was a follower, instead.

  “Molly’s not herself right now, not with everything going on,” she suggested.

  “She’s retreated a little, but...” Furrows formed on his forehead, as they often did when they talked about Molly. He paused, maybe searching for the right words. “She’s always tended to be shy. Happy playing by herself.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. Anyway, she’s reconnecting with friends from last year.” Molly had gone home with Arianna after school one day this week, saving her from Wednesday’s soccer practice, and then to another girl’s house on Thursday. Josh had actually seemed disappointed that she wasn’t home to hang out with.

  “That’s true.” Nate seemed to shake off his concern, turning to face her. “Walk with me?”

  Evidently, he didn’t want nearby parents to hear what he had to say. Anna nodded mutely, ditching her umbrella, and fell into step as he strolled along the sideline. Once again, she found herself painfully conscious of him. The light rain had turned his hair almost black and as slick as a seal’s coat. Looking down, she focused on his hand, inches from brushing hers. So much broader than hers, the fingers long, his wrist thick. Male, like his bared forearms with strong muscles and the visible tendons. Her skin prickled at the memory of how his hands felt touching her.

  Damn. She forced herself to glance toward the field even though it was empty except for a couple referees chatting toward the middle. Both teams huddled with their coaches on the sidelines.

  “It’s looking a lot like Molly will be staying with me permanently,” Nate said abruptly. “For the foreseeable future, anyway.”

  Anna braced herself, but still didn’t say anything.

  “You probably know where I’m going with this.”

  He stopped suddenly, and she realized they’d reached the end of the field. She’d probably have kept walking until she smacked into the wall of the cinder-block building that housed the restrooms. They turned in concert, but he didn’t start walking, so she didn’t, either.

  She did her best to sound...curious. “You’ve found someone permanent?”

  “No.” His keen gray eyes met hers. “This is me asking whether you’d continue the arrangement we have at least for this school year. I think it’s going well for all of us. You staying would give Molly the stability she needs. You’d give me peace of mind.”

  Peace? she thought semi-hysterically. He stirred her into a state that was far from peaceful. Obviously, that wasn’t mutual, even if he had felt momentary lust for her the one time.

  “You’d have the opportunity to save some money,” he continued, “boost your résumé and have plenty of time to make plans for the future.”

  She couldn’t seem to look away from him even though she was peripherally aware that the teams had taken the field and were clustered in the middle, ready for the drop. And...why did she have the feeling that his pleasantly persuasive tone was a front for an emotion a whole lot more intense?

  Because his eyes said something different.

  “I... You don’t mind me working? Even though that gives me less time for the kids?”

  His subtle relaxation didn’t escape her. It also confirmed what her instinct was telling her. “Of course not.”

  “Are you sure about this? I don’t think Sonja likes having me taking care of Molly.”

  His jaw tightened. “The decision isn’t hers. Anyway, why would she object? You were the one hurt by my absence or Sonja’s carelessness, or just because shit happens.”

  “Seeing me reminds her.” Of course it did. “She might be able to let her guilt go if I wasn’t here as a glowing neon reminder.”

  Scowling, Nate said, “She should be glad I’m offering some recompense.”

  Anna flinched from the blow and took a step back. “So much for the idea that I could hold on to any dignity while I worked for you. You just found a sneaky way to relieve your own blasted guilt. I can’t believe I fell for it.” Shaking her head, she whirled and hurried toward the cluster of parents.

  How had she not seen that she was deceiving herself? No, she wouldn’t take blood money from Nate Kendrick—but an apartment? Hey, sure. Not the same thing at all.

  “Anna.” His voice came from right behind her. “Stop.”

  “No.”

  “Please.”

  Despite her burn of humiliation, the raw tone reached her in a way the command hadn’t. She slowed, stopped, closed her eyes. Finally, she turned around, because what else could she do? Tell him to go to hell and call for a taxi to get them home after the game? Home being his house.

  What she didn’t expect was to see anguish on his face.

  “What I told you at the beginning was the truth. Our arrangement isn’t about my share of the guilt. I’d met you, Molly talked about you, and yeah, I took advantage of knowing you needed a refuge. But I offered it because I needed someone I could trust. I do trust you, Anna. You have to know that.”

  She swallowed and gave a jerky nod. Seeing him so unguarded was a shock.

  “Having you and your kids has made everything better for me,” he said hoarsely. “For Molly.” His big hands had curled into fists, but he opened them and flexed his fingers with what appeared to be an effort. “If I thought you had a great opportunity, somewhere good to go, I wouldn’t let myself be selfish. I’m not that much of a son of a bitch.” His mouth twisted. “Sonja’s opinion to the contrary.”

  They stared at each other until he said, “Say something. Are you going to pack up and leave?”

  After a moment, she shook her head. He’d stripped himself bare in front of her, and she didn’t know how she felt about that. If it turned out this was all a lie, that he was playing her...she’d deal with it then. Pride had held her together when nothing
else could, but using it to justify a decision that would be bad for Josh and Jenna wasn’t acceptable.

  Not for her, either.

  “No,” she said softly. “You’re right. The arrangement has worked out well. Josh is happy in school, and I don’t want Molly to feel abandoned. If you’re sure this is what you want, we’ll stay until school lets out.”

  He bowed his head suddenly, as if he didn’t want her to see his expression. His chest rose and fell with a couple of deep breaths before he lifted his head again. “It’s what I want,” he said in a low, gruff voice.

  “Then...then we’ll go on the way we have been.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  What a stupid thing to say! If anybody should be saying thank-you, it was her. Because she could only lie to herself so long.

  When he’d extended her a lifeline, she had grabbed right on, her fingers clamping around it. She’d have to let go eventually...but not yet.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  EVEN THOUGH THEY’D been home for a good ten minutes, Anna’s toes still hurt. Thawing out always did. How could she have forgotten how miserable November could be in the Northwest?

  The rain that fell during Josh’s practice today had felt perilously like sleet. Molly and Jenna and their little crowd had kept themselves warm by running nonstop, stomping rubber boots in soggy patches of grass and shrieking when the splatter soaked their jeans. Anna had worried about Josh stuck waiting in the goal, but when the ball was on the other end of the field, he jogged in place and did jumping jacks. When it came his way, he went into action—including a headlong dive into the muddy pig wallow in front of the goal.

  The parents were the ones who’d suffered. Anna had stood up from time to time and walked, sometimes with another mother, or just stamped her feet, but that hadn’t been enough to warm her. Clearly, she needed to double up on the socks and visit storage to find her ski gloves. Everyday fleece ones didn’t cut it.

  Or drop off Josh at practice and come back for him at the end. But she was reluctant to consider that. Maybe when he was older.