Chris pressed his lips together, clearly wanting to argue. He finally relented. “Alright.” He followed them up the stairs. When Cassandra led Meredith into her room, Chris said, “I’ll be in my office. It’s just across the hall if you need anything.”
When he left, Cassandra asked, “Do you like purple?”
Her daughter’s room was an homage to the color. Remembering Larry’s mention of Cassandra’s new favorite color from the Mother’s Day letter, Meredith had worn a purple shirt. Now she wondered if they redecorated the room every time their daughter decided on a new favorite. “I do,” Meredith said. “It’s the best of red and blue. And it’s my favorite part of the rainbow.”
“I like rainbows.”
“Me, too.”
Cassandra worried her lower lip as she wandered around her room, touching things, putting off whatever she wanted to talk about. Meredith didn’t rush her, afraid of questions she couldn’t adequately answer. The whys.
“Your dad tells me that your favorite subject is science,” Meredith said.
“And math,” Cassandra added.
“They were my favorites, too. They still are.”
“Why did you give me away? Why didn’t you keep me? What’s wrong with me?”
The question stunned her. She thought she’d prepared for it. But nothing she’d read or researched could have prepared her for the actual words, the poignant self-recrimination of a seven-year-old child. Her daughter’s anguish tore her apart. “Oh, sweetie. Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re perfect.” She hesitated then plunged ahead. “But I wasn’t.”
Cassandra shook her head, the movement so small Meredith wouldn’t have seen it if she hadn’t been looking for the slightest hint that the girl accepted her explanation. It was the truth in a generalized form. And it was lame. Cassandra wanted—no, she needed—specifics.
“What have your dads told you?” That was the place to start. She didn’t want to contradict them, and maybe they had the magic words.
Cassandra glanced at the door before whispering, “I didn’t ask them. I was afraid it would make them sad.”
Could this child be any more amazing? Meredith was more convinced than ever that she’d made the right decision when she’d chosen Larry and Chris to parent her baby. They’d done an amazing job of raising and loving her daughter.
“Well,” Meredith began, “when I gave birth to you, I was too young to take care of you.” Cassandra stared at the floor. Meredith needed some kind of contact with her daughter as she struggled to explain, so she brushed the girl’s hair back off her face and tucked it behind her ear, knowing that, like hers, it wouldn’t stay there. “I didn’t have a job. I didn’t have a home like this one. I was still going to school.” She put every bit of passion into her next words and her heart twisted at the truth of them. “But I loved you so much. So I searched and searched until I found the very best parents for you.”
Cassandra peeked up at her.
“And finally, I found them.”
“My daddies,” Cassandra whispered.
“Yes.” She’d given Cassandra parents who loved each other, who were committed to each other, who had love to spare. They’d been financially secure, could give her everything she needed and more. Dance lessons, science kits, soccer. Larry was a stay-at-home dad. He took her to school, picked her up, presided over the frigging PTA, baked cookies and cupcakes and decorated for Christmas.
Cassandra seemed to accept Meredith’s explanation. At least, she was considering it, thinking it over. Meredith was certain she’d have more questions later, once she had time to process everything. But for now, Cassandra seemed satisfied. Meredith breathed a little easier, relieved that she hadn’t screwed up that first answer. It would pave the way for more questions, maybe make them easier for Cassandra to ask and Meredith to answer.
They talked about rainbows and school. Meredith told her about her Uncle Landon and her Aunt Nikki. Then she gave her some time alone and went in search of her parents. Chris wasn’t in his office. She found both men in the kitchen.
“I was just about to bring up the snacks,” Larry said as he picked up a tray with fresh fruit and a pitcher of ice water.
“I need to talk to y’all,” she said before her courage faltered.
“Of course.” Larry nodded toward the back porch, visible through the windows beyond the breakfast nook. “That’ll give us some privacy.”
When they’d settled on the cushioned wicker chairs, Meredith said, “One of the men who might be Cassandra’s father is back in my life.”
Both men straightened. Larry gripped Chris’s hand.
“He’s willing to do a paternity test,” she hurried on. “If he is her biological father, he wants you to know that he’s not interested in taking her away from you. He’s happy with y’all as her parents.”
“How can we be certain he’ll stick to that?” Chris said, his jaw tight, every muscle in his body tense. “He could change his mind once he knows for sure.”
“Does he know she has two dads? Does he know we’re gay?” Larry asked.
She hadn’t expected this question, but it was a valid fear. “Yes. It’s not a problem. You could meet him. Talk. Get acquainted. He’s a good man. He only has Cassandra’s best interests at heart. But I should warn you, he’s probably not her father.” She drew in a deep breath before continuing. “If he isn’t, I can probably find her biological father, if you’d like. I could contact him, but when I was pregnant—when I told him—he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby.”
“Why are you doing this now? Why after all these years?” Chris asked.
He wasn’t just referring to her revelation about Blaine and Dylan. Why, after years of them begging, had she finally given in and deigned to visit them? “I’ve been stupid. And a little afraid, too, I think. But mostly stupid. I thought she’d be better off without me.”
Larry spoke gently. “We know you love her. You wouldn’t have supplied breast milk for a whole year for a baby you didn’t love. I know it was painful for you—being so close to her, but not seeing her, those daily reminders. It was almost as if you were punishing yourself.”
“I wanted her to have the very best life,” Meredith whispered. “I wanted her to have the best of everything.” Her voice grew stronger. “I was naïve and young and confused.”
She suddenly wondered what her life would have been like if she’d told Blaine, if she’d called him like he’d asked her to do. She suspected he would have tried to make things right. Could they have made a happy family?
“We’ll think about it,” Chris said.
“He’s here,” she blurted. She hadn’t planned on telling them, but she couldn’t take it back. “I mean in Boston. With me.”
Chris was already shaking his head. “Meeting you is enough for now. She already has a lot to process. And we don’t even know if this man is her father. There’s no reason for her to meet him if he isn’t.”
Actually, there was a reason. If Blaine was going to be a part of Meredith’s life, an important part of that life would be Cassandra. She’d want him to know her daughter. Charlie, too. But she wouldn’t go into that now. “No, I didn’t mean that Cassandra should meet him today. But if you and Larry want to come to the hotel and talk to him...” They were shell-shocked. It was too much, too soon. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course, you’re right. It can wait. He lives near Austin. Once y’all get settled in Houston, if you want to contact him, let me know.”
Larry nodded. “That would be better.”
She stood. “Okay, well, I’ll say goodbye to Cassandra.”
Larry and Chris jumped up.
“You’ll come for her birthday?” Larry asked.
“If the invitation is still open. Think about it.”
“
Of course we want you,” Larry said.
“More importantly, Cassandra wants you,” Chris added. “And Meredith, you can’t disappoint her. If you don’t show—” he waved his hand in the air, “—after this, it will devastate her.”
Meredith didn’t have any intention of disappointing her daughter. Not again.
* * *
Meredith was blessedly numb for the next week. She went to work every day on autopilot. She had dinner with her sister and Jake and told them the details of her meeting with Cassandra. Nikki was so happy she cried. Jake even looked teary-eyed. Next, she told her brother. He was shocked but supportive and asked what he could do to help her. Her parents? As expected, they weren’t terribly interested. When she called to tell them about their granddaughter, they were packing for an Alaskan cruise. They said they’d call after their vacation.
On the drive to the ranch Friday evening, Meredith began to thaw. Neither Charlie nor Blaine met her when she parked in front of the lodge. They were no doubt playing catch-up from their impromptu trip to Boston. She hoped Charlie wasn’t overdoing it. The dogs didn’t greet her either. They were probably with the twins. She grabbed her suitcase from the trunk and headed to her room. Not that she’d spend much time there.
Before she’d unpacked, there was a knock on her door. They hadn’t made her wait long.
She smiled and called out from the end of the bed, “Come in.” Her smile faltered when Lindsey walked in, but she recovered and said cheerfully, “Hi, Lindsey.”
“Hi. Good trip?”
“Uneventful. The best kind,” Meredith said.
Lindsey stepped inside the room and closed the door behind her. “I meant the trip to Boston.”
Meredith froze with her toiletry bag in hand. How much did Blaine’s sister know? “Yeah, it was a good trip.”
“Maybe you can tell me why Blaine felt the need to go with you.”
Play middleman for the siblings? Right. “No, I can’t.”
“In case you aren’t aware, he’s running for sheriff. He doesn’t need some kind of sexual scandal derailing his campaign.”
Was she fishing, or had Blaine said something to her? The attack angered her until she remembered what Charlie had said about anger, that it usually stemmed from fear. There was a whole lot of fear in the room. Lindsey was naturally worried about her brother. And Meredith was worried that Lindsey was right. If word of their ménage got out, his political career would be over. Feigning a calmness she didn’t feel, she placed the toiletry bag back in her suitcase. “Have you spoken to Blaine about your concerns?”
“Of course.”
“I don’t know what to say. There’s nothing more that I can add. I can’t speak for your brother.”
Lindsey’s mouth tightened, and when she spoke her tone was vitriolic. “You can tell me why you feel the need to fuck two men. Isn’t one enough?”
Meredith took a deep breath, fighting her anger, fighting the urge to defend herself. Truth was, she didn’t have a defense. She was fucking Charlie and Blaine. Not that it was just sex. Not anymore. Maybe it’d never been solely about the sex. Something had drawn her to them. Blaine in college and Charlie a few months ago. And while she’d been looking forward to more of it this weekend, what she’d really anticipated during the drive to the ranch was simply talking with them. About their week, their lives, their families, their dreams, even the last Rangers game. “I appreciate your concern for your brother. I’m just as protective of mine.” Was that what Lindsey needed—simple assurance that Meredith cared for Blaine, that he wasn’t just a convenient fuck? “I only want the best for Blaine.”
“Oh, and is your brother running for public office?”
Okay, maybe it was more than concern for her brother’s emotional happiness. Although having Blaine’s name dragged through the political pigsty could adversely affect that happiness. Still, she needed to talk to him before getting into this with Lindsey. The three of them hadn’t discussed how to publicly handle their unusual relationship. And she sensed that Lindsey was guessing. Of course, it wasn’t an outrageous conclusion, considering Blaine and Charlie had followed her to Boston.
“Look, Lindsey, you need to talk to Blaine, not—”
Another knock on the door interrupted her. Maybe there was a God.
“Come in,” she called, hoping it was Charlie. Blaine’s appearance probably wouldn’t help. She discounted the brief possibility of God’s existence when the door opened to Charlie and Blaine.
Blaine’s warm smile froze when he saw Lindsey. “Hey, Linds. Grant’s looking for you.”
Lindsey crossed her arms over her chest and frowned as she glanced back and forth from Meredith to Blaine.
“Linds,” Blaine said, a warning in his voice.
“Yeah, okay,” the woman said, her tone angry, sulky.
She didn’t close the door behind her, so Blaine shut the three of them inside Meredith’s room, alone. “Sorry about that.”
“She’s worried about you. She’s right. If this gets out, your campaign is over.”
His beautiful mouth, which was always smiling, tightened into a straight line. Not a hint of that natural curve she loved. “Screw the campaign.”
He was letting emotion overrule logic. “You don’t mean that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Hang on,” Charlie said. “Everyone needs to calm down.”
Meredith closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them, both men were watching her. “I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. I don’t know what she knows, what you’ve told her.”
“I haven’t told her a damn thing, but obviously she suspects there’s something going on with you.”
She grabbed her toiletry bag and tossed it on the dresser. “You abandoned your business without any warning in the middle of the summer season to help me in Boston. Safe bet there’s something more going on.”
“Will she say anything to anyone else?” Charlie asked Blaine.
“No. But we need to talk about this. I said it after you came home from the hospital. How’re we gonna handle things in public.”
“That’s an easy one,” Meredith said. “We can’t go public, not with you running for sheriff.”
“For now, let’s forget the campaign. Let’s pretend I’m not a politician.”
“That’s a pointless exercise,” Meredith said. “The fact is you are a politician.”
Blaine dug his cell from his pocket. “I can change that with one phone call.”
He was bluffing. Wasn’t he?
“No need for that.” Charlie closed his hand over Blaine’s and the phone. “Doc, what Blaine wants to know is how going public will affect your life.”
She shrugged. “Once I have tenure, it won’t.”
“It can’t be that simple,” Charlie said. “You’re more than your work. What about your family?”
“My family is the least of our worries.”
“You’re saying they’d be okay with us?” Charlie asked.
“Yes.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Jake’s sister, Hailey, lives with two men. And they’re not just roommates.” She loved the shock on their faces.
“You never told me that,” Charlie said.
“It wasn’t relevant to any of our conversations until now.”
“Right. Okay.” Charlie’s brows drew together. “What about your friends?”
She didn’t have many friends. Coworkers, yes. But close friends, no. “You have more to worry about with your friends. And what about your family?” She spoke to Blaine. “I’m assuming his job is secure.”
“She’s right,” Blaine said. “Your friends and family think you’re straight.” He shrugged. “You’re not.”
* * *
Blaine held his breath. Would Charlie deny the truth? How far was he willing to go?
Charlie wandered over to Meredith’s suitcase and closed and fastened it before storing it in the corner. “I hadn’t thought about it. I don’t know why not. Guess I was more concerned about y’all.” He slid a sidelong glance at Meredith. “Or her. I was worried about her.”
“Because we’re men, and we can take care of ourselves,” Blaine said.
Charlie looked sheepish. “Yeah.”
Meredith rolled her eyes and groaned. “That is so chauvinistic and so sweet and so unnecessary.”
“Well, I see that now,” Charlie said.
“You have the most to lose,” Blaine said.
Charlie was already shaking his head. “The campaign.”
“If the voters want to return Jerry Walton to office, more power to ‘em. I don’t think that will happen, but if it does...” He shrugged. “The county kingmakers dragged me into this campaign kicking and screaming.”
“You want to sabotage the campaign?” Meredith asked.
“I didn’t say that. But I’m not gonna live a lie.” He’d tried that. It had sucked the life from him. He didn’t want to feel that way again. He didn’t want to rub anyone’s nose in their relationship, but he wanted to be honest about it. Especially with the people closest to them.
“Unless Charlie and I choose to live a lie?”
Blaine shrugged, but that was as much indifference as he could fake. If they made that choice, he’d have to wonder how serious they were about him. No, he wouldn’t have to wonder. He’d know.
“I don’t have a problem with my family, but I need tenure. If I’m fired, I’ll never get tenure anywhere.”
Charlie spoke. “When does that happen? I know you’ve started the process, but when will you know?”
“Next spring.”
Charlie let out a low whistle. “Damn.”
“Yeah, it’s a long, drawn-out process. It doesn’t come easily.”
Tempting Meredith Page 29