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The Homecoming

Page 11

by Anne Marie Winston


  He had a feeling his island wasn’t going to be the same without Sydney.

  “I’m sorry.” God, had he just said that aloud?

  Sydney turned to him, eyebrows raised in polite inquiry. Her tone was distant and cool. “I beg your pardon?”

  He took a deep breath. He had to try to make her understand. The last thing he wanted was for her to believe she’d been just a…convenience for him. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I should never have come to your room last night.”

  “Let’s forget about it,” she said, turning her face away from him.

  “I can’t,” he said baldly. “I don’t want to hurt you, Sydney. And I’m afraid that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  She didn’t answer, didn’t even tilt her head to indicate that she’d heard him.

  “I can’t be with you,” he said, somewhat desperate to make her see. “It’s not you. It’s me. I just…there’s nothing left in me to give you. Any woman. And if you keep believing there’s more, you’re only going to get hurt.” More quietly, he reiterated, “And that’s the last thing I want.”

  “I heard you the first time.” Her voice was so completely flat and devoid of expression that he knew it already was too late. He’d already hurt her more than she deserved.

  A sense of futility and frustration enveloped him. Damn it. He should have sent her back the very day he’d found her, instead of giving in to his curiosity—and all right, his instant attraction to her. He’d known from the beginning he couldn’t get into any more relationships.

  As the flight stopped at the gate and passengers began to disembark, Danny stood and handed down the single small carryon she’d brought. Then he stepped back and waited for her to precede him from the plane.

  She was all too aware of his tall form right behind her as they headed up the ramp and into Concourse D of Portland International. As they passed the gate security and moved out into the public part of the airport, other passengers rushed into the waiting arms of families. One woman knelt and tearfully embraced a small boy of about Nick’s size, and the sight reminded her of something. “Would you like to come along to my parents’ place? You could meet Nick, get to know him and see a little bit of his life—”

  But Danny was already shaking his head. “No thanks. I have business to take care of while I’m here. I’ll be in touch after the test results come back.”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. His blue eyes were remote, his thoughts shielded from her, and she wondered if she’d ever felt more alone. Straightening her shoulders, she said, “All right. See you then.” And picking up her bag, she hurried off down the terminal toward baggage claim.

  After a moment, Danny caught up with her. She saw him from her peripheral vision, pacing along beside her, though he didn’t say anything more. Abruptly, her throat closed up and she knew she couldn’t just stand there with him until the bags arrived. Thankfully, she noted a ladies’ room sign just ahead, and as they passed it, she veered off and entered the women’s sanctum. There was a long bench and a couple of chairs usually reserved for nursing mothers in a room adjacent to the bathroom itself, though the place was deserted at the moment. She sank down into one of the chairs, letting her carryon thud to the floor at her feet. Then she pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes and willed the tears away.

  After a few moments and several deep breaths, she finally felt she had regained a bit of her nearly vanished composure. She glanced at her watch. It would take at least ten minutes for her rolling suitcase to be unloaded and brought into the terminal. She wasn’t leaving this restroom for a little while.

  She hauled out a box of raisins she’d put in her purse as an antidote for airplane food. She hadn’t been able to eat on the flight and she still wasn’t hungry, but she forced herself to eat them. Her head ached so she took some painkillers with water from the bottle in her carryon. Then she washed her face and hands and dug through her purse until she found her makeup. She might not feel top-grade, but the slight color she’d acquired made her skin glow and intensified the blue of her eyes, making her look fresh and healthy. That was good. Her mother was already worried enough.

  Finally, she stood and hefted her bag. By now the luggage should have arrived. She took her time descending to the baggage claim area and purposely didn’t look around at other people as she found the flashing sign that proclaimed her flight’s number. A crowd had gathered around the conveyor belt and she walked down close to the point at which the luggage emerged from the flap on the wall. Lady Luck must have taken pity on her because she was barely in place when her suitcase came barreling down the ramp onto the belt.

  Sydney heaved it off into an upright position, pulled up the handle and stacked her carryon atop it. Then she tilted the bag onto its wheeled side and began to maneuver through the crowd of jostling strangers. It wasn’t far to the curb outside under the huge glassed-in canopy. That was where she would meet the shuttle bus that would take her out to the long-term parking lot where she’d left her car.

  A tall man stepped into her path and she swerved to avoid him, realizing as she did so who it was, and her heart sank. She’d been hoping to get away without having to see him again.

  “Hey,” Danny said. “Let me get that for you.” He already had his own large duffel over one shoulder and he reached for her suitcase as he spoke.

  “No thanks.” She deftly rolled the luggage back out of his reach. “I’ve got it.” She sent an impersonal smile in the general direction of his face. “I guess we’ll talk in a couple of days.” And without giving him a chance for one more word, she wheeled her suitcase around him and headed through the automatic doors to the shuttle line.

  She fought tears several times on the drive to her apartment, but once she was home again, standing amid all the things she’d forgotten just a few days ago—had it really only been a few days since she’d met Danny?—she forced the hurt into hiding. This was her life. Not the idyllic experience she’d just had on a tropical island with the most charismatic, attractive man she’d ever met in her life.

  “Hello, Everett.” Nancy Allen stood in the open door of Everett Baker’s small apartment. Her eyes were warm and looked suspiciously moist, and before he could gather his wits, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her soft, wonderfully familiar body tightly to his. “Oh,” she said in a voice that made him pretty sure she was trying hard not to cry, “I’m so glad you made bail.”

  “How did you find out?” He couldn’t resist putting his own arms around her, burying his face in her fragrant hair and adjusting the fit of their bodies until he’d found that particular sweet, perfectly aligned plane that always took his breath away.

  “I was sitting in the back of the courtroom,” she said. “I saw your father make the offer.”

  “My real father. Terrence Logan.” He pulled back far enough to see her face.

  Nancy nodded. Her gaze searched his face. “How do you feel about what’s happened?”

  He hesitated. “You mean finding out who I really am…was?”

  She nodded.

  He shook his head, letting his bewilderment show. “I don’t know. Terrible.” Then the certainty that he’d lived with since he’d been arrested returned full force. “Nancy, you didn’t need to come here. I mean, I understand how you must feel—”

  “Worried to death? Sad and heartsick for you?” She took his face between her hands. “Oh, Everett, I wish I’d known. Maybe I could have done something.”

  “You did,” he told her soberly. “Because of you, I found the courage to stand up to Charlie Prescott and go to the cops. After you and I…became friends, I realized that whatever Charlie wanted from me, friendship was pretty far down on the list.”

  “Became friends,” Nancy repeated. “Is that how you think of us?” Her eyes were still soft and so very warm, and she hadn’t stepped away from him. Yet.

  “No,” he said. He would be honest from now on, no matter what it co
st him. “I think of you as the most wonderful thing ever to happen in my life. But, Nancy, the things I did were terrible. I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to talk to me again.”

  Nancy slowly withdrew her arms and he let her step away from him. But to his surprise, she didn’t leave. Instead, she took his hand and led him toward the battered couch in his cramped living room.

  Nancy put a hand over his. Tears sparkled in her eyes. “Oh, Everett, I only wish you’d told me. We could have gone to the authorities together.”

  “I know.” He turned his palm up and felt as if he’d been granted a miracle when Nancy laced her fingers through his. “I’m sorry.” Shame coursed through him yet again.

  “Don’t be,” she said fiercely. “Anyone who lived through a childhood experience like yours can be forgiven for making mistakes. Charlie Prescott chose you because he thought you were vulnerable.”

  “He was right.” And he despised himself for being so weak.

  “Do you remember your own family?” she asked. It was the first time she’d sounded hesitant, and he realized she didn’t want to pry.

  “A little.” He studied their clasped hands. “More things are coming back to me every day.”

  “Someday,” she said, “I’d like to hear as much as you want to share with me about your childhood.”

  He sighed. “There’s a lot you probably don’t want to hear. The couple who took me, the Bakers, weren’t exactly role models for the American family.”

  “Were you abused?” Her voice was very soft.

  He nodded. “I got beaten a lot. But even worse was the stuff they used to say to me.”

  “You know,” she said, “I’ve seen a lot of abused children in my line of work. And it’s so sad to see how many of them will cling to an abusive parent even after they’ve been horribly damaged. Apparently, a bad parent seems better than no sense of security, of belonging, at all. I imagine Charlie realized you needed someone, or something, to validate you.”

  He nodded. “He was right. I believed I was stupid and worthless. I guess if you get told that often enough you start to believe it.”

  Nancy nodded. “You internalized it. But you know he was wrong, don’t you?”

  He attempted a crooked smile. “Let’s just say I’m working on my self-image.”

  Nancy frowned, and when she spoke, her voice was uncharacteristically sharp. “It’s not a question of smart or stupid, it’s one of how your environment shaped your need for relationships. You’re a very smart man, Everett, and a very strong one.” She hesitated, then said, “There are doctors and counselors who specialize in deprogramming people who have been brainwashed, which is essentially what was done to you. If I could find one to help you deal with your past, would you see that person?”

  He couldn’t believe she still would bother with him after everything he’d told her. And yet, she hadn’t run, hadn’t gotten angry or disgusted. She’d said he was smart and strong. “Why?” he asked hesitantly. “Why would you do all this for me, Nancy?” He wanted to believe he knew the answer, but the world in which he’d lived had taught him never to trust, never to hope.

  “Oh, Everett,” she said. “If you don’t know the answer to that, then you really do need counseling.” She smiled then, and as his heart swelled with hope, she pressed her lips to his briefly. “So would you go?”

  “I guess so.” It couldn’t hurt, and maybe it could even help. And maybe, just maybe, Nancy wouldn’t leave him. “If you’ll go along.”

  “Of course I’ll go along,” she said, as if that had never been in question. “I’ll be right beside you.”

  Nine

  Sydney called her mother to tell her to expect her for dinner and declined the invitation to spend the night. After the emotional upheavals she’d endured for the past few days, all she really wanted was to bring Nick home and nestle into their snug little apartment together. Much as she loved her parents, she needed some time with her son. Just her son.

  Only he’s not my son, she reminded herself. She decided to wait until after the results of the DNA test to tell her family the unwelcome news. She was absolutely certain, deep in her heart, that Nick had been born Noah Crosby, but until she had it confirmed there was no sense in upsetting everyone. There would be plenty of time to be upset later.

  It took just under an hour to make the drive north to her childhood home in Longview, Washington. She had barely gotten her car parked in her parents’ driveway when the door flew open and a small figure hurtled toward her. “Mommy!”

  “Nick.” She scrambled out of the car and knelt with her arms wide. Her heart felt as though it was going to explode with love as her son’s small body barreled into her embrace. Nick wrapped his arms around her neck as she held him close and rocked from side to side.

  “I missed you, Mommy,” his little voice announced from where he’d buried his face in her shoulder.

  “I missed you, too, buddy,” she said, dropping a kiss on the crown of his head and his straight, corn-silk-colored hair. She drew back to smile at him. “It’s good to be home.”

  “We’re not home,” Nick said with irrefutable five-year-old logic as he pushed out of her arms. “We’re at Gramma’s house. But Gramma says we’re going home after dinner.”

  “Gramma’s right.” She stood and smiled as her son went flying back up the driveway to inform his Gramma that he needed to put his suitcase in the car.

  Her father had come out as well, and he chuckled. “That boy has ants in his pants,” he said.

  “Was he good?” She really hadn’t talked to her mother long enough to hear much while she’d been away.

  “Terrific,” her father assured her. “I took him fishing on the Catawah twice and he caught a few under-size summer-run steelhead. I had to explain a couple of times why he couldn’t keep them.”

  They chuckled together as they walked toward the house.

  “So,” her father said. “Tell me about your vacation.”

  Sydney squirmed. “You and Mom should go to Hawaii sometime, Daddy,” she said to divert him. “It’s incredibly beautiful. I saw everything I wanted, except the volcanoes on the Big Island.”

  “That’s for another trip, hmm?” her father said as he held the door.

  “Maybe sometime.” She gave him a smile, hoping it didn’t look as brittle as it felt. Given the finality with which Danny had let her know she couldn’t be a part of his life, she doubted she’d ever voluntarily go near the island chain again.

  Her mother had invited her siblings and their families for dinner, and Sydney was grateful for the whole noisy crew. Between them and Nick chattering away about everything he’d done with Gramma and Granddad while she was on “’cation,” she wasn’t required to do much but answer general questions about her time away.

  After the meal, Nick’s eyelids were drooping and she didn’t linger. After all-around goodbyes and thank-yous to her parents for keeping him, she bundled her son into the car for the drive back down to their home in Portland. As she’d expected, Nick slept most of the way. He must have played hard at his grandparents’ because he never even woke up when she unbuckled him from his car seat and carried him in to bed.

  She slipped off his sneakers and play clothes, gave his face and hands, elbows and knees a cursory washing and got him into his pajamas, all without rousing him to more than the occasional mumble.

  As she was walking back out to the garage to get the rest of their things from the car, her telephone rang. She backtracked and checked the caller ID, but it was a number she didn’t recognize and the caller wasn’t identified. Clicking on the phone, she said, “Hello?”

  “Hi, Sydney. It’s Danny.”

  He wouldn’t have had to tell her. She’d know that voice anywhere. Funny, she thought, it was just another male voice, albeit one with a deep, pleasant tone, and yet it had the power to make her stomach lurch and her heart beat faster.

  Swallowing the nerves that rose immediately, she said, “Hell
o, Danny.”

  “How was your trip up to your parents’?”

  “Fine, thanks. Nick had a great time with them while I was away.”

  “Good.”

  There was a brief, awkward silence and she wondered why he had called. Surely not to engage her in this small talk. “Is there something you need?” she finally asked.

  “Uh, no,” he said. “I just wanted to tell you that we should know the results of the DNA testing the day after tomorrow. Would you like to meet me at the doctor’s office? That way we can both hear the results and ask any questions we have at that time.”

  “That would be fine.” She retrieved a pencil and notepad from a nearby drawer and wrote down the address he gave her. Then there was another silence. “Danny?” she said when he didn’t speak.

  “Yes?”

  “Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow evening?”

  “No,” he said hastily. “Thanks but I already have plans.”

  It was exactly what she’d expected, and she’d been stupid even to set herself up for another rejection. But she hadn’t been able to prevent the words from jumping out of her mouth even though she’d known as she spoke them that he’d refuse. Still, it hurt.

  “All right,” she said softly. “Thanks for calling.”

  “You’re welcome.” He still didn’t hang up.

  Finally, she said, “Danny, was there something else?”

  He exhaled so heavily she heard it through the receiver. “No.”

  “All right. Good night.” This time she didn’t wait, but gently turned off the handset and put it back in the cradle. Her heart ached for him. By his own choice, he was determined to be alone. To stay alone.

  And because of that, her heart also ached for herself. Something about Danny called to her, stirred her heart to wanting him, to caring for him. To loving him.

 

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