Saving Grace

by Denise Hunter

“You know, I’ve been thinking about what we can do to help with your decision about this adoption. A good friend of mine adopted about a year and a half ago. I’m sure I could set something up if you want to talk to him.”

  Her eyes lit. “Oh, that’d be great. Do you really think he’ll talk to me?”

  “Sure, he’s a good friend, and he loves talking about their little girl.” In fact, Joe and his wife had often gone out with him and Jilly. And though he and Joe still kept in close contact, it seemed they had less in common than ever before.

  “It would be really helpful. That’s been part of my problem. I don’t know anyone who’s been in my shoes. I don’t suppose he’s a single parent, too.” Her eyes sparkled playfully. “Divorced, with two boys, maybe.”

  “And a young, pregnant girl offered him her baby? No, I’m afraid you’re not that lucky.”

  Her lips tipped up at the corners before she sipped water through her straw.

  “He’s married, and he and Kristin couldn’t have kids of their own.”

  “I was only kidding. It would mean the world to get to talk to them.”

  “I’ll set it up, then.”

  They talked about Kyle’s friends for a minute, then conversation turned to work.

  “Has the controversy surrounding the center died down?” he asked.

  “Yes, it has, thank goodness.” He saw a flicker of concern before her gaze swung down toward the table.

  “That must’ve been pretty stressful.”

  She took a sip of her water. “The vandalism was a drag, and the news coverage bothered me, too. But what’s really messed with me was the assault. I’ve never been attacked before.”

  The assault? His confusion must have shown.

  “I think I mentioned it the night we had dinner at Paula’s.”

  “Oh, right. I can’t believe I’d forgotten.”

  “I wish I could.” She toyed with a napkin on the table.

  “Police never caught him?”

  “No. I guess I didn’t really expect that they would. Jackson Hole is full of tourists who come and go. I couldn’t even see his face.” She shuddered at the memory of that night.

  She looked small and vulnerable in the big booth. He resisted the urge to put his hand on hers. “Tell me about your boys.” Her brows rose at the change in subject, but he could see her warming to the idea.

  “Hmm. Well, Alex is six, and he’s the big brother. He’s charming, playful, and will manipulate anyone, anytime. He’s also a huge showoff, especially where hockey is concerned. He’s actually pretty good.”

  He found himself smiling at her description and the proud look on her face. “Maybe he’ll be recruited by the Jackson Moose.” Their local hockey team was very popular with the town’s residents. “Well, probably not for a few years at least.”

  “Taylor is three and a half. His favorite activity is pestering Alex, and I might add, he’s quite good at it.”

  “Sibling rivalry.”

  “At its finest,” she added.

  “Do you enjoy your time alone on the weekends, or does it seem lonely?” His own loneliness seemed to seep into that last phrase. He hoped she hadn’t picked up on it. He didn’t want sympathy.

  “A little of both, I guess. On Saturdays and Sundays I get a lot done, errands and cleaning. You know, all that exciting stuff I mentioned before.” Her lips curved into a nice smile. “But in the evenings when it’s quiet, I guess I get kind of bored.”

  “Not lonely?” Why had he asked that? She would think he was interested.

  Aren’t you?

  “There’s a difference?”

  “I think so. Bored means you’re looking for something to do. Lonely means you’re looking for someone to do it with.”

  She blinked, her dark eyes studying him. “I’ve never thought of it like that. I guess I’m both. Nothing to do and no one to do it with.” She twisted the napkin on the table, and he sensed her vulnerability. “How about you?”

  It was his turn to feel awkward. Why hadn’t he realized the question would come back around to him? Maybe he could skirt the question. “Actually, I don’t mind being alone. Suits me well. So, how long ago was your divorce, if you don’t mind my asking?”

  She hiked a brow, and he realized he hadn’t pulled a thing over on her. She’d seen his non-answer for what it was. He felt a moment’s guilt for evading the question when she’d answered so honestly.

  “About two years. Though it doesn’t seem like it.”

  He wondered if she had a boyfriend but didn’t want to ask. She hadn’t mentioned anyone.

  She glanced at him, then back down at the table, and bit her lip. He wondered if she’d been about to ask him about his marriage. After what Linn had said to her about murdering Jilly, she was probably afraid to mention it. Just as well.

  The waitress arrived and set the plates down on their table, and he was grateful for the interruption. While they ate, Natalie asked more questions about adoption, and he did his best to answer. When they parted, he promised to get in touch with her about a meeting with Joe and his wife. He walked her to the car and saw her safely away before turning toward his own. As he walked in the quiet night, he wondered why he suddenly felt lonelier than he had in a long time.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Natalie was helping Taylor into his pajamas one night a week later when Alex asked the question.

  “When are we going to have another baby, Mom?”

  She almost put Taylor’s arm through the head opening of his pjs. Kids asked these questions sometimes, she knew, but Alex never had. Had he overheard her on the phone with Linn or Kyle? She didn’t think so. She’d been very careful.

  “Why do you ask, honey?”

  He sat beside her on the living room floor, gathering his knees up close to his chest. “Brandon’s mom just had a baby girl, and I want a sister, too.”

  Natalie chuckled. “You already have a brother.”

  Alex gave Taylor a glare. “He annoys me.” The adult word sounded funny coming off her six-year-olds lips.

  “Do not!” Taylor slugged Alex.

  “You don’t even know what it means,” Alex said.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Natalie said.

  “We have an extra bedroom. She could sleep in there.”

  “Honey, there’s a lot more to having a baby than where you’re going to put her. Besides, you don’t get to pick whether it’s a boy and girl. God decides that.”

  “Can’t we just ask God for a girl?” Alex asked.

  She smiled. “Sure, you can ask, but He can say no if He wants to.”

  She could hardly believe Alex’s timing with this question. Only yesterday she’d met with Kyle’s friends and discussed their adoption process. Their little girl was adorable and seemed as happy and secure as any one-year-old she’d ever seen. Joe and Kristin had been very convincing. Not that they’d tried to convince her, but their attitude toward their little girl and toward adoption in general was hard to overlook.

  “Go brush your teeth, Alex.” She took Taylor up to his room and tucked him in, listening to his little boy prayers.

  “Pray for Mom and Alex and Dad and Granny and Papaw and Aunt Hanna and Unca Micah and Aunt Paula and Unca David and … help tomorrow and the new baby. Amen.”

  Natalie opened her eyes.

  Taylor was snuggling into his pillow and comforter, a content smile on his face.

  “Taylor, what new baby?”

  He looked up at her with his big, innocent eyes. “Our new baby.”

  Her breath stuck in her lungs, where it seemed to accumulate until she felt she’d explode. Is this You, God? Is this Your way of telling me what I should do?

  No, not telling, but confirming. Maybe she was crazy, but she’d been leaning very strongly toward the idea of adopting Linn’s baby. She’d been concerned, though, about how the boys would accept a new brother or sister. She guessed she needn’t worry about that anymore.

  She tucked the comf
orter up to Taylor’s chin and said good-night.

  Over the next two days, the idea of adopting the baby grew in Natalie’s heart until she knew it was the right thing to do. She’d even begun to get excited about the thought of a baby in the house again. It had always been her favorite stage with the boys.

  She had Linn over for dinner and a game of Monopoly, but still, she sheltered the idea in her heart. Linn had been feeling her out by the things she said, and Natalie knew she was anxious for an answer. What was she waiting for?

  On Thursday of that week, the last day in June, Natalie looked at her refrigerator calendar and decided. Tomorrow, on the day that marked Linns nineteenth week of pregnancy, she would tell Linn she would raise the baby as her own.

  Paula flung her purse on the table and went to pour herself a glass of wine. She felt like celebrating. Tonight’s broadcast had gone flawlessly. It was one of those nights when she was just on. Every word came out with just the right inflection, every segue smooth as satin, every ad-lib perfect. And her boss Donald had noticed. He’d asked to speak with her after the show.

  “Did you know there’s a temporary position in our affiliate station in Chicago, Paula?”

  She’d known, but she generated just the right amount of surprise.

  “You’re too good to be tucked away here in the mountains. I’m sending them your tape.”

  Her heart had nearly stopped beating. It was her dream to be a news anchor for a large station in a city like Chicago, and this temporary job as an investigative reporter was just the break she needed.

  She filled her goblet and took a sip, allowing herself one giddy moment. She could see herself on Chicago’s evening news in front of thousands of viewers. She had a sense of destiny about the possibility.

  Her mother would say something about God’s will, but she’d worked too hard for it to lay the credit at God’s feet.

  The front door opened and clicked shut. David. She could hardly wait to tell him. She met him in the foyer, feeling exceptionally frisky.

  “Hello, handsome.” She curved her lips in a smile she reserved just for him.

  “Hi.” He brushed past her.

  She watched him remove his wallet from his pocket and set it on the shelf. Next, he removed the coins from his pocket and placed them in the sterling canister.

  She took a sip from her glass and followed him into the room. “Can I get you a drink?”

  “No, thanks.”

  She watched him take off his shoes and set them in the closet. Hers were still by the front door, where she’d kicked them off. Is that why he was acting so short? She went and picked them up and tucked them under the end table.

  “How was your day?” she asked. He shot her a glance, and for a moment she thought something was very wrong. But just as quickly the look was gone.

  “Interesting.” He flicked on the TV with the remote control. A sitcom came to life on the screen. He didn’t turn it.

  She sat on the couch and studied him. He never watched sitcoms. He hated the canned laughter. “Did you eat dinner?”

  “Yeah.” He leaned back in his recliner and kicked out the footrest.

  So much for her news. She wanted to tell someone who would be as excited for her as she was. In his present mood, he might not even offer her an offhand congratulations.

  She sighed. “Is something wrong?”

  His jaw clenched, and the shadows moved there in the crevices of his face. He was really quite handsome. When they were dating, everyone had said they looked perfect together. Though she was tall, he still cleared her head by three inches, even in heels. The perfect dancing partner.

  She realized he’d never answered her. “Hon, are you all right?”

  He looked at her, his eyes blazing with something she couldn’t define. He looked away.

  Something in her shuddered. She’d never seen that look. David was always so controlled. So charming with impeccable manners. She couldn’t imagine what would provoke the emotion she’d seen in his eyes, but it was clearly aimed at her. What had she done? She automatically thought of the pregnancy three years ago and her deceit. Her stomach clenched in dread.

  But no, he couldn’t know about that.

  She sensed it was time for a change of topic. So much for waiting for an eager listener. “You didn’t get to see the news tonight, did you?”

  He seemed absorbed in the program. “No.”

  “I think it was my best ever. Apparently Donald thought so, too.”

  The canned laughter sounded, and he picked up the remote and changed the channel. As much as she wanted to share her news, she decided to wait. He was obviously in a snit about something. She picked up her glass from the end table and started for the kitchen. Must’ve had another picky client. Maybe if she just gave him some time to cool off.

  “I got my test results today.”

  She barely heard the words, spoken so calmly and quietly. Test results? Her brain jogged. The sperm test.

  She walked back into the room and sank onto the couch close to his chair. Something was wrong with his test. That’s why he was in this mood. She put her hand over his. “What is it, hon?” Inside, her nerves pulled taut.

  He jerked his hand from under hers and crossed them over his chest.

  She blinked at the abrupt movement. He was starting to scare her. This wasn’t David at all. “Is it bad?” She searched his face for answers. Why didn’t he just spill it? Her own appointment with the specialist was later in the week, but if there was a problem with David … well, she didn’t know what it would mean exactly.

  His gaze was glued to the TV, where a commercial for Paxil CR was running. His nostrils flared. Whatever it was, this was serious. She braced herself.

  “It turns out I have a low sperm count. And low motility.” He drilled her with a look. “It’s very unlikely I can get you pregnant, Paula.” The corner of his nose turned up in a snarl.

  The way he said it, with hatred almost, made her flinch. Why was he acting this way toward her? She allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. She’d read about problems with male infertility. The problems he mentioned weren’t rare, by any means, but when you combined both the low count and the low motility, it severely limited the chances for pregnancy.

  “How bad is it?” Why wouldn’t he look at her? Why was he acting so cold? Maybe he was feeling responsible for their problem conceiving. “Hon, this isn’t all bad. In fact, if there’s no health problem with me, I’ll bet in-vitro is a strong possibility.”

  He fixed her with a glare, then pushed up his trendy glasses.

  She’d never seen him this way. Didn’t know how to handle him. And she always knew how to handle people. Right now, though, her emotions teetered between rank fear and justified anger. What had she done to deserve his silent treatment? It wasn’t her fault he had an infertility problem.

  He flicked off the TV and tossed the remote on the table. It clattered, then spun and plunked on the carpet.

  She looked at her husband, suddenly feeling that she didn’t know him at all. “What is wrong? This is more than just a test result.”

  He turned toward her then, and she saw the full weight of his anger. “I can’t get you pregnant, Paula.” He spat the words as if spewing some nasty food from his mouth.

  Her heart pressed against her ribs, her blood gushed through her veins, but still, she couldn’t figure out why—

  And then a terrible thought occurred to her.

  “Do you get it now? Yes, I see that you do.” He blinked rapidly.

  “You can’t be serious.”

  Silence. So heavy and oppressing, it felt as if she smothered in it.

  “You are.” She couldn’t believe he thought she’d—

  “What am I supposed to think? The doctor told me it was highly unlikely I could get you pregnant. ‘Practically impossible,’ she said.”

  “But you did. We did.”

  “Did we?”

  The words hung in the air betwe
en them. Suspended like a poisonous cloud of gases. It sucked the air from her lungs. Her eyes stung. “Of course, we did. Think what you’re saying, David.”

  “I’ve had all afternoon to think. And you know what I thought about? I thought about the time I found a bunch of e-mails from Evan in your inbox—”

  “He was just seeing how—”

  “I thought about the time we had those mysterious hotel charges on our credit card—”

  “That was—”

  “And I thought about how you act around other men, how you flirt and act so coy, and how you and that … that Dante were acting two weeks ago when I walked in on you at the TV station.” His voice escalated. “That’s what I thought about, Paula.”

  He shoved in the footrest, stood, and left the room.

  She felt as if some heavy boulder sat on her chest. Sure, she’d been attracted to Dante. And maybe she did act a little coy with men, but that was just her personality. Couldn’t he see that?

  Maybe he senses your guilt

  She shoved away the thought. That was a whole separate matter. He was accusing her of cheating on him.

  She followed him into the kitchen on legs that felt uncharacteristically wobbly. When she reached the kitchen, he was making a pot of coffee. She leaned against the counter.

  “I know I sometimes act a little flirtatious with other men, but I have never cheated on you.”

  He emptied the water into the reservoir and shoved the pot on the burner.

  “That baby was yours, David,” she said emphatically. Her heart turned flip-flops in her chest when he didn’t respond. She’d told him the truth. Why wouldn’t he believe her? She trembled now, but not from fear. “How could you even think it?”

  He took a mug from the cabinet and turned to get the half-and-half from the fridge.

  She grabbed his arm. “Why are you doing this? Talk to me!”

  He flung the creamer across the counter, where it slid and toppled.

  “The doctor said ‘practically impossible,’ Paula. Do you understand what that means?” He jerked his arm away, and her hand fell. “I grieved that baby. For weeks, I grieved that baby. And it wasn’t even mine.”