An administrative assistant listened to his request with interest, but she wasn’t sure whether unused photographs from that time period were stored in the newspaper archives. She promised to do some research and give him a call.
Next stop, the hospital.
He bounded off the elevator and greeted the nurses working at the central station.
“Mr. Sullivan,” one of them called after him as he headed toward Jonah’s room. “Excuse me. Sir?”
Turning back, AJ removed his ball cap and approached the counter. “Is something wrong?”
“I’m sorry, but only approved visitors are permitted in the Jensen room.”
Every muscle in his body tensed. “Did something happen? Is Jonah all right?”
“I’m not allowed to answer questions about Jonah’s medical condition.”
“I’ve been here every day. Something must have happened.”
“Ms. Jensen made the request. No visitors without her approval.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“Again, I’m sorry. But Ms. Jensen was adamant, and we must respect her wishes.”
“It’s okay. I’ll call her.” He dialed Meghan’s number, but the call went to voicemail. “It’s AJ. I’m here, but they won’t let me past the nurses’ station. Call me.” Hanging up, he faced the nurse. “I don’t understand. When did Meghan decide this?”
Another nurse spoke up. “It was late last night. After that other man left. She was very upset.”
“What man?” Surely her ex-husband wasn't bailed out of jail.
“I don’t know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Blond hair. Incredibly blue eyes.” She practically swooned, and AJ clenched his jaw. “Very good looking.”
“Brett.”
The first nurse picked up a clipboard. “Here it is. Brett Somers. Ms. Jensen specifically stated that you and Mr. Somers were no longer allowed to visit.”
“Do you know him?” the second nurse asked.
“Yeah. I know him.” He strode to the elevator and punched the down button.
Shelby walked with Jillian and the girls to the library door. “While you’re in there, I’m going to walk over to the bank and invite Uncle Richard to our cookout. Mind Jillian, okay?”
“We will,” Elizabeth said.
“We will,” Tabby echoed.
“Good. See you soon.”
Inside the bank, she had to wait only a few moments before Chandra Coleman, Richard’s assistant, escorted her into his office. He stood as she entered.
“Shelby. It’s so good of you to stop by.”
“Hi, Uncle Richard.” She smiled brightly to hide her shock at his frail appearance. His cheeks seemed more deeply wrinkled, his shoulders even more stooped than when she’d seen him the week before. “Thanks for seeing me.”
“I always have time for you.” He gestured at the chair across from his desk.
“How have you been?”
“Fine, fine. And you?”
“I’m good.” She folded her hands in her lap. “I know it’s short notice, but we’re having a cookout tomorrow afternoon. I’d love for you to come.”
Blinking, he passed his hand across his eyes. “I thought you were angry with me.”
“No.” Her knuckles whitened as she gripped her fingers. “Disappointed, but not angry.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Me too.” She smiled again. “But you’re family. The only family I have within a few thousand miles. Will you come to the cookout? About four o’clock?”
“I will. Thank you.”
“Great.” She rose, adjusting the strap of her bag on her shoulder.
“Would you like me to bring anything?”
“Just you.”
He stepped from behind the desk and touched her arm. “Did you receive the notice? About the lawsuit?”
“Yes.”
“I talked to Amy. She believes you will give up rather than endure a trial.”
“She may be right.”
“You’d give up the farm?”
“I may not have a choice. But what about you? Brett said you could be in trouble.”
“Don’t worry about me.”
“I can’t help it.”
His pale eyes searched hers. “You favor your grandmother more every day. I miss her.”
“So do I.” She kissed his soft cheek. “I’ve got to go. See you tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
AJ yanked the door to Brett’s office, but it didn’t open. He yanked again, but to no avail. So Brett was playing hooky after his late-night hospital visit. He brought up his cousin’s name on his cell, then hesitated.
Confronting Brett over the phone wasn’t a good idea. Too easy for him to hang up.
He hurried back to the parking garage and drove to Brett’s apartment. Outside the door, he took a deep breath, then firmly knocked.
A few seconds later, Brett opened the door and grimaced. “I’ve been expecting you.”
“Have you?”
Brett turned back into the apartment and AJ followed. “Coffee?” Brett asked over his shoulder.
“This isn’t exactly a social call.”
“Oh, I know that.” Brett retrieved a mug from a side table and carried it to the kitchen sink. “You made your daily trek to the hospital this morning, talked to the lovely Meghan, who finally told you the truth about her son, and now you’re here to break my jaw.”
AJ took off his ball cap and laid it on the counter that separated them.
“The truth about her son?”
“So she didn’t tell you.” He set a carousel of assorted coffees in front of AJ. “Choose one.”
“She banned me from visiting.” He carelessly spun the carousel. “Banned you too.”
Brett grunted.
“Why did you go see her?”
Leaning against the stove, Brett folded his arms and scowled. “You can’t have them both, you know.”
“Have both what?”
“Not what. Who.” He held AJ’s gaze. “Meghan and Shelby.”
“What are you talking about?”
“This is the moment of truth for you, cuz. Who do you want most?”
AJ chewed the inside of his mouth. His heart trumpeted the answer, but he couldn’t trust Brett with it.
“You may not believe this,” Brett said, “but I’m doing you a favor.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “How’s that? Cuz.”
Brett placed his palms on the counter and leaned forward. “Do you know Meghan’s blood type?”
AJ furrowed his brows. “No.”
“She’s a B. Her son, on the other hand, is an A.”
A knot strangled AJ’s gut as he braced for the rest.
“From what I understand, Jonah’s dad can only be Type A or AB.”
AJ swallowed the lump choking his throat. They’d been typed, he and Brett, when Gran got ill that time. Given blood and plasma regularly for a while. Joked about how they were nothing alike, not even their blood.
“I’m not Jonah’s dad.”
“No. You’re not.”
Disbelief fought with accusation in AJ’s voice. “You didn’t.”
Brett’s lips tightened, then he exhaled. “I’m not proud of it, okay?”
AJ clenched his fist, then turned away and massaged his neck. The infatuation with Brett hadn't lasted long. Then Meghan had shown up at AJ’s apartment, begging him to give their relationship another chance.
“How could you, Brett?”
“If it’s any consolation, I felt guilty enough to break it off.”
“She said she broke up with you. That it had been a mistake.”
“Meghan doesn’t always tell the truth.”
“She should have told me the truth about Jonah.”
“Why would she, AJ? You came sweeping in like you always do, the hero slaying the dragon.”
AJ paced the room, then plopped on the
couch. Elbows propped on his knees, he pressed his forehead against his interlaced fingers. “I didn’t know you’d slept with her.” Bitterness soured his mouth.
Brett sat in a nearby chair and crossed his ankles on the coffee table. “Meghan doesn’t care about either of us, AJ. Her only concern is that boy.”
The words echoed through AJ’s brain as the truth he thought he knew turned inside out. The apartment was silent except for the hum of the A/C and the beating of his own heart.
“You don’t have to worry about Meghan anymore. Or Jonah.”
“I can’t turn my back on them.”
“I’m not telling you to. After all, you’re still his uncle.” He paused, and AJ raised his eyes. “But I am asking you to give me a chance to, I don’t know, make amends somehow.”
“You? What about the blonde-of-the-week?”
“Maybe it’s time for me to hire a brunette.”
“Right.”
Brett’s eyes bored through him. “Go to Shelby, AJ. Win her heart and be a dad to those two little hooligans who are so crazy about you.”
The perfect plan. If only she stayed at Misty Willow. “Shelby may be moving.”
“Why?”
“That little thing called a lawsuit. Have you talked to Amy?”
“I’ll call her this afternoon.”
“It won’t do any good. When did she ever give up anything?”
“Never.” Brett planted his feet on the floor and leaned forward. “I’m starving. How about I buy you lunch?”
AJ blew out air. He needed time to figure things out, to decide what to do about Meghan and Jonah.
“What do you say?” Brett asked.
AJ shrugged. “Why not?” He stood and grabbed his ball cap from the counter. “One condition. I don’t want to talk about Meghan.”
“Okay. I don’t want to talk about Shelby.”
“Or your hunt for a new Tracie.”
“What does that leave us?”
“Sports?”
“Sports.”
As he waited for Brett to put on his shoes, AJ rotated his shoulders and consciously relaxed his tense muscles. He hated to admit it, but Brett was right about doing him a favor. If what he said was true—and Brett would never admit to fathering a child that wasn’t his—then AJ’s heart no longer needed to be torn in two.
He’d still do whatever he could to help Meghan. But now he was free to give his whole heart to Shelby and her girls.
If she’d let him.
– 38 –
With hands on her hips, Shelby surveyed the kitchen table. American flags of assorted sizes, patriotic bunting, and miniature tin pails were scattered between packages of red, white, and blue napkins, plastic plates, and tableware. A bouquet of red-tinted white carnations lay across a pile of candles, stencils, paints, and brushes.
“Let’s get these things sorted out,” she said, “and we can start painting.”
“Can I paint this one?” Tabby grabbed the nearest pail.
“In just a minute, okay?” Shelby moved the bouquet to the sink and split open the plastic wrapping.
“These are going to be so adorable.” Jillian rummaged through the pile for the stencils. “What a fun idea.”
A knock shook the screen door, and Shelby turned from the sink.
“Mr. AJ!” Elizabeth scampered to the door and pushed it open. “We’re having a party tomorrow. Look!”
“Tomorrow? That’s sudden.” He rubbed Lila’s head as she pressed against his leg.
“Everyone I asked to come for the Fourth already had plans,” Shelby said as she trimmed the flower stems and stuck them in a pitcher. Later she would arrange them in smaller containers. “So we decided to have our celebration cookout tomorrow. Will you be able to come?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Lila can come too, can’t she, Mommy?” Elizabeth said.
“If Mr. AJ wants her to, she can.” She focused on the flowers and prayed her voice didn’t quiver. “Which reminds me, I invited Meghan for the Fourth, so I need to let her know about the change. But I don’t have her number.”
“Who’s Meghan?” Jillian asked, and Shelby shushed her with a look.
“An old friend,” AJ said, fidgeting with the paints. “Her son’s in the children’s hospital in Columbus. I doubt she’ll leave him even for a party as grand as this.”
Relief eased the jealous bile upsetting Shelby’s stomach but didn’t comfort her. Meghan needed a friend, not a rival. And Shelby should be that friend.
After sauntering to her side, AJ sniffed the carnations. “Anything I can do to help?”
He stood too close, his minty breath and woodsy aftershave tormenting her senses. She cut the last stem and slipped the carnation into the pitcher. “There are boxes of mason jars in the trunk of my car. Could you bring them in?”
“You’re canning something?”
“They’re for flowers and candles.” She washed and dried her hands. “The extra car key is on that hook.”
“I remember.” He grinned and disappeared out the door with Lila following after him.
Shelby and Jillian cleared one end of the table and covered it with a craft cloth. By the time AJ brought in the last box and stacked it against the wall with the others, the girls were using the stencils to paint stars and “Happy 4th of July” on the silver pails while Jillian supervised and Shelby sorted the flags.
“That’s the last box.” He waved one of the larger flags. “What are you going to do with all these?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Shelby said as she opened the cloth bunting. “These go on the front porch railing.”
“I can do that.” He gathered the other packages. “Got a staple gun?”
“I’ll get it.” Retrieving the toolbox from the back room gave her a few moments to calm her breathing. All the emotion from the previous evening welled up within her. He’d been the rock she needed, his arms holding her safely together when grief melted her skin. But after a sleepless night, she had resolved not to allow such intimacy again.
A resolution made and broken before.
She returned to the kitchen and handed him the toolbox. Their fingers brushed, shooting warm tingles into her heart. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” As he entered the hall, she pulled a chair from the table and reached for a pail. “Aren’t you coming?”
She looked up in surprise. “Do you need me to?”
“Yeah.” His brown eyes drew her into their depths. He obviously needed to talk, and she couldn’t resist his silent plea.
She turned to Jillian. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead. We’ll be fine, won’t we, ladies?”
Elizabeth and Tabby, engrossed in their stencils and paints, cheerfully agreed.
When they reached the porch, AJ dropped the bunting packages onto the swing and dug the staple gun out of the toolbox. Shelby unfolded the patriotic cloth along the rail. “It’s festive, isn’t it? I think we can fit three of these along here and one on the side.”
“Who all’s coming to your cookout?”
“Cassie and Jason, Jillian and Seth, Seth’s family. I stopped in to see Uncle Richard when we were in town and invited him.”
“How is he?”
“I’m not sure. He seemed fine, but he doesn’t look very well.” She held the edge of the bunting against the underside of the rail while AJ knelt to staple it in place. “He needs to retire. Take things easy.”
“He’ll never leave that bank.”
“Probably not.”
AJ finished stapling the center bunting, then opened another package while Shelby arranged the red, white, and blue cloth.
“You’ll never guess who I had lunch with today.” AJ unfolded the fabric, then gave it a shake.
“Not Amy?”
“No, but you’re close. Brett.”
“They’re not going to drop the lawsuit, are they?” Knees wobbling, she pushed aside the unopened packages and dropped onto the
swing. She hadn’t expected Amy to stop her fight, but deep inside she’d been hoping for a miracle.
AJ moved the packages to the floor and sat beside her. “I don’t think so, but that’s not what I need to talk to you about.”
Dread tightened her stomach, and she shifted away from him. “Sounds serious.”
“I made a mistake.”
“About what?”
“Turns out I’m not Jonah’s father.”
“What?”
“Brett is.”
Her mouth dropped open. “But why,” she stammered, “why would Meghan say you were?”
“She didn’t.” He shrugged and spread his hands. “But neither did she tell me I wasn’t.”
Shelby bit her inner lip. She hated admitting that in her heart of hearts she wanted this—for AJ to be free of Meghan and Jonah. So why did she feel sick to her stomach?
“I’m sorry,” she said, bowing her head. AJ reached for her hand, and she laced her fingers with his. Though soothed by the warmth of his skin against hers, indignation kindled into resentment. “Meghan was dating both you and Brett at the same time?”
“We were dating. Apparently she and Brett were doing more than that.”
“You weren’t . . .”
“No, we weren’t.”
“Then why did you think you could be Jonah’s father?”
“I woke up one morning with a horrific hangover, and she was lying there beside me. I didn’t remember anything, but a few weeks later when she said she was pregnant,” he said with a shrug, “I believed the baby was mine.”
“Even after all these years, finding out that he isn’t has to hurt.”
“It does.” He nodded grimly as he propelled the swing. “I wanted Jonah to be my son. And I hoped to be a dad he could look up to.”
“He’d have been lucky to have you.”
“He’ll be lucky to have Brett too. If Meghan gives him a chance.”
Shelby huffed. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“Before today, I wouldn’t have been either. But spending time with you changed something in him.”
“Me?”
“You.” AJ let go of her hand and slipped his arm comfortably across her shoulders. Her earlier resolve forgotten, she scooted next to him, resting her head in the curve of his neck right where she belonged. Sitting beside him in the swing, rocking gently back and forth, she listened as he told her about Meghan’s no-visiting policy and Brett’s news flash about the blood types.
Where She Belongs Page 26