The Surprise of a Lifetime

by Emilie Richards

  “I can’t watch.” Robin turned away. She’d had the fore­sight to make two cakes. This one was nothing more than a glorified muffin, but Nicholas didn’t know any better.

  He slapped his palm into the cake, and it crumbled into a hundred small pieces all over his high-chair tray. Nicho­las raised his hand to his mouth and began to sample in ear­nest as Judy snapped photographs.

  “Don’t you wish the rest of us could get away with that?” Judy said. “Doesn’t that look like fun?”

  “Yuck!” Robin went to the counter to get the other cake and slice it. “I’ll settle for a fork and a napkin.”

  “When does he get to open his presents?” Devin asked.

  “When we’ve washed the icing out of his hair. Why, can’t you wait?” Robin teased.

  “I’ve drawn up plans. With all the blocks we bought him, we can build a dream city.”

  “You can build. He can destroy.”

  “Two sides of the same coin.”

  “Well, I want to see his face when he opens my present,” Judy said.

  Robin knew that Judy had bought Nicholas a scooter shaped like an elephant. Nicholas wasn’t walking yet, al­though he was on the verge. But now he could hold on to the scooter and make his way around the house on his feet.

  The doorbell rang, and Robin wiped her hands. Visitors weren’t common this far out in the country, but some of her friends at work knew that today was Nicholas’s birthday. She wouldn’t be surprised to find one of them at her front door with a gift.

  She wondered if she should invite whoever it was inside to meet Devin. Today of all days the need for secrecy seemed almost obscene. They were celebrating their son’s first birth­day. They had nothing to hide.

  She opened the door, and a middle-aged man with a carefree grin moved back a few paces as the aluminum storm door swung toward him.

  “You Robin Lansing?” he asked.

  “I am.” Another man stepped into view from behind the door. She hadn’t noticed him, but he’d obviously planned it that way. Before she could say anything, he snapped her photograph.

  “We know everything,” the first man said, his grin still in place. “We know you had Devin Fitzgerald’s baby. We know he’s here. You got any plans for the future with him? Or is he just stringing you along?”

  She made it back inside somehow and tried to pull the storm door closed. But the grinning man held the handle. “We hear he’s not supporting you. Did you ever think about taking him to court? Or maybe it’s not really his kid?”

  Robin managed to slam the wooden door and lock it. Then she began to tremble.

  “Who was it?” Judy came into the room. She was licking icing off her fingers. “More presents?”

  “A reporter.” Robin was surprised that she sounded so normal. She was shaking, but her voice was not.

  “Somebody from the Gaz—” Judy looked up. “Oh.” Her eyes narrowed. “So it begins.”

  “I don’t know how they found out!”

  Judy frowned. “Oh, come on, Robin. It’s a miracle no one in the press found out before this. There’s been a conspir­acy of silence to protect you. Don’t you think your neigh­bors know? Your co-workers? Everyone’s been looking the other way. They love you, and Devin’s the local hero.”

  Robin closed her eyes. There was pounding on the other side of the door, but she ignored it.

  “Well, I’m glad,” Judy said.

  “How can you say that?”

  “Because I am. Devin’s wearing himself out to keep up this pretense you’ve insisted on. Now there won’t be any more secrets. I wish it hadn’t taken a sleazebag reporter to get the show on the road, but I’m glad somebody did.”

  Robin had expected sympathy. She opened her eyes and stared at her friend.

  “What’s wrong?” Devin came into the room. “Robin, someone is still at the door.”

  “’Tis the press,” Judy said. “You’re going to be in the news, Devin. Not important enough for prime time, prob­ably, but I bet the tabloid shows will pay for this story. And the sleazy supermarket rags.” She shrugged.

  “Robin?”

  Robin turned her gaze to him. “Busted.” But she wasn’t smiling, and her voice didn’t come out as lightly as she’d intended. She felt violated, exposed. But worse—much, much worse—she felt terrified.

  “We’ll get through this,” he promised.

  She nodded.

  “Do you want me to talk to them?”

  “No!”

  “Then we have a party to finish. There’s a little boy in the kitchen with presents to open. He needs both his par­ents in there with him.”

  She heard the words Devin didn’t say. Nicholas would al­ways need them both. The time had come for her to face the future. In a matter of hours the world would know ev­erything. They were a family, whether she’d made up her mind to accept it or not.

  But she couldn’t accept it. She couldn’t. Fear was push­ing away every other feeling. “I think you’d better plan to leave afterward, Devin. They’re going to camp out in the front yard if you don’t. And I’m not ready for this.”

  He didn’t say anything for a moment. “What would it take to get you ready for this?” he asked at last. “A signed promise from God that I’m still going to love you when the smoke clears?”

  From the corner of her eye Robin saw Judy leave the room. She and Devin were alone except for the reporter and photographer on the other side of the door. “It’s just going to take me some time—”

  “You’ve had time. You’ve had a year. But when it comes down to it, I don’t mean as much to you as your fears. You’ve never gotten over your husband’s death. You would rather lose me than take a chance and try to build a life together.”

  “That’s not true. I—”

  “It’s true. I’ll go say goodbye to Nicholas.”

  “No, please stay for a while. Let him open—”

  “I’m leaving.” He turned sharply and disappeared into the kitchen. She wanted to follow him, to tell him that he was wrong and plead with him to hold her.

  But she couldn’t move. On the other side of the door the reporter continued to pound his fist in rhythm to the ago­nizing thudding of her heart.

  * * *

  Devin held his squirming son. He didn’t care that he would be covered with cake crumbs now, or even, selfishly, that Nicholas wanted to get down. He just held him as tightly as he could without hurting him.

  “I’ve got to go, partner,” he whispered into the baby’s dark hair. “I hope you have a happy birthday. Build a city for me, will you?”

  He’d heard Robin go upstairs and shut the bedroom door. Judy came to stand in the kitchen doorway, her arms crossed over her chest. Devin had liked her from the first moment he’d met her. She was everything that the small-town Mid­west believed about itself. Solid. No-nonsense. Whole­some. Compassionate but never sentimental.

  “I couldn’t help but overhear,” she said.

  “It’s a small house.”

  “She’s scared to death.”

  “I know.”

  “She’s afraid you don’t love her as much as you love the idea of a family.”

  “I know.”

  “There’s something you don’t know.”

  “What?”

  “She was never sure that Jeff loved her the way she needed to be loved, either.”

  He didn’t answer. For a moment it seemed in­con­sequen­tial to him what Robin had experienced with her husband. He was so hurt that suddenly everything she felt seemed in­consequential. He had a different bottom line than Robin did. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. She hadn’t loved him enough to try to make this work.

  “She’s never told me this,” Judy said. “But I think Robin believes Jeff married her because he knew, at least on some level, just how ill he was and he wanted her comfort and presence in his life while he fought death. They were good friends, and he didn’t want to be alone.”

  “What d
o you think?”

  “I think it’s probably true.”

  Devin tried to tell himself that this was important. But nothing felt important right now except the chubby-cheeked reality squirming in his arms. “I won’t be back.”

  “You can’t mean that.”

  “I mean it.”

  “What about Nicholas?”

  “That’ll be up to Robin.” He looked up. He was as close to tears as he had come in his adult life. “I can tell you what the press will do with this story, Judy. They’ll eat me alive. I’ll be the irresponsible rock star who fathered a son, refused to support him, refused to marry his mother, even refused to fight for visitation rights.”

  “You could tell the truth.”

  “I could. But how would she look if I did?”

  “Are you going to take her to court? Are you going to seek custody? Joint custody? Because you’ve certainly proved how much you care about Nicholas. You’ve nearly killed yourself trying to visit him regularly.”

  “No.”

  Judy was silent. Devin kissed the soft, icing-sticky hair of his son and set him on the floor at his feet. “When Robin’s panic subsides, she’ll realize how much Nicholas needs me. Her attorney can contact mine and work out vis­itation.”

  “And if she doesn’t?”

  There were a thousand voices screaming in Devin’s head. He wanted to snatch Nicholas and run. He wanted to stand up to the world and tell them how much he loved this child and his mother—and how in the end it hadn’t been enough for her. But one voice was louder than all the rest.

  “I love Robin too much to do anything to cause her pain,” he said. “Even if she doesn’t realize how much Nich­olas and I need each other, I’ll continue to stay away from him.”

  “Devin…” She shook her head.

  “That’s the funny thing about this, you know? I couldn’t love her more, and she couldn’t believe it less.”

  “Call me. Any time you need to know what’s going on with Nicholas.”

  He nodded.

  “I’m sorry.”

  He tried to smile his thanks, but he couldn’t. He knelt and kissed Nicholas’s hair and squeezed him tightly once more. Then he stood and left the house without a backward glance. He couldn’t look back, because he didn’t know what he would do if he saw that Nicholas was crying, too.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  If he’d really loved her, he would have stayed to work things out. But in the end he hadn’t even loved Nicholas enough for that. For the past two months Devin had disappeared from their lives as surely as if he had never rescued her in the blizzard and delivered his own son.

  If he’d really loved her.

  She had asked him to leave.

  Robin sat at the kitchen table with her head in her hands. She had been trying for hours to put together an en­tertainment-news column for the Gazette. In front of her she had two dozen clips about movies and models and what celebrity had been seen with what other celebrity. All of it seemed so foolish.

  All except one clipping.

  Devin Fitzgerald was holed up in his estate in Colorado working on a musical that was to debut in San Francisco in two years. His faithful fans would be sorry to hear that he wouldn’t be touring or recording for a while, but those in the know said that the musical would be worth the wait.

  “He’s asleep,” Judy said.

  Robin lifted her head wearily. “Thanks. For coming to see how we’re doing. For playing with Nicholas so I could work. For putting him in for his nap.”

  “He misses Devin.”

  Robin didn’t answer. She knew it was true.

  “I thought we could walk through the woods when he wakes up and look for wildflowers. Take advantage of the warm day. And Nick seems happiest if he’s on his feet these days.”

  “If I can get this finished.” Robin didn’t want to look for wildflowers. She knew what that would remind her of.

  And Nicholas was walking now. Devin didn’t even know.

  “You’re working too hard.”

  Something snapped inside her. “You’re full of criticism today, aren’t you?” Robin sighed before Judy could respond. “Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. I really am. It’s not true, and if it were, you could have a field day with me.”

  “You’re not at your best,” Judy said. “I’ll say that much.”

  “This garbage with the press has really gotten me down.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure that’s all it is.”

  Robin dropped her pen to the table. “I’m tired of the questions. I’m tired of the odd looks people give me. I’m thinking about quitting my job here and moving some­where else so I can start over.”

  “Is there a place like that?”

  There probably wasn’t. It was only March, but the story about Nicholas had already died down. It hadn’t even been that big to start with. Robin had steeled herself to tell re­porters that Devin had acted honorably right from the very start, and that the rest of the details were personal and would not be discussed. Devin had refused to comment at all. Eventually more exciting stories had taken the place of theirs.

  But Robin was a celebrity of sorts now, the mother of Devin Fitzgerald’s son. Someone would always know where she was, who she was. As he grew older, Nicholas would have to field questions.

  She thought about the most recent development and decided to share it with Judy. “Devin’s attorney has been in touch. He wants the name of mine so that negotiations can begin.”

  “For custody?”

  Robin was puzzled that Judy sounded surprised. “Well, no. He was clear about that. He’s not even asking for visitation, Judy. He wants to give us money.”

  “Oh.”

  Robin rested her head on her hands. “I don’t understand it. Devin adores Nicholas. I’m sure he does. But he hasn’t made any attempt to see him since…since he left.”

  “Did you tell his attorney he could?”

  “Of course not! I shouldn’t have to. He knows that.”

  “No, he doesn’t.”

  “Of course, he does. He—”

  “Damn it, Robin, don’t you see what’s going on?” Judy flung her arms out in disgust. “Devin’s not going to do any­thing you’ll perceive as a threat. Not ever again. The man’s willing to give up his son for your peace of mind. He’s not going to ask to visit, and he’s sure not going to try to share custody. He knows how scared you are, and he’s making the ultimate sacrifice to help you feel secure. If you don’t call him and tell him you want him to visit Nicholas, he’ll never visit him again. He trusts you to make the right decision, though I don’t know why he should.”

  Robin stared at her friend. When she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. “How do you know?”

  “He told me.”

  “And you didn’t say anything to me?”

  “What was there to say? You haven’t heard anything that’s been said to you for months. The man told you he loved you every which way to Sunday, and you didn’t hear that, either.”

  “He would give up Nicholas?” But even as she asked the question, Robin knew the answer. He would. He had. And deep inside, she had known it for weeks. Devin hadn’t stopped visiting his son because the publicity had scared him away.

  He had stopped because he loved her.

  He loved her that much.

  “Call him,” Judy said. “Or call his attorney. Make ar­rangements for visitation. You owe him that much, don’t you?”

  She owed him more.

  She owed Nicholas more.

  Most of all, she owed more to herself.

  “What if he hates me?” She knew her eyes were plead­ing for reassurance.

  But Judy had none to give. “Maybe he does hate you by now. It’s been two months. Maybe he’s found another woman. He has more than his share of opportunities.”

  Robin knew Judy wasn’t being purposely cruel, although it sounded that way. “All right. I hear you. There are no guarantees.”

  “No guarantees.
Exactly. You’re the only one who can de­cide whether loving Devin and going to him are worth what you might lose if it doesn’t work out.”

  The weariness was gone. Suddenly Robin realized how little her exhaustion had had to do with her job and how much it had had to do with Devin. She had been a fool for too long, and being a fool took an extraordinary amount of energy. “I know where Devin is.” She held up the clipping for Judy to scan.

  “I can stay with Nicholas through the weekend.”

  But Robin knew she had denied her son a father for too long. “No, I’ll take Nick with me. I’m not going to keep him away from his father for another minute. We’ll leave as soon as I can get a reservation. I’ll walk if I have to.”

  Judy didn’t smile, but this time reassurance gleamed in her eyes. “I’ll help you pack. It will be a pleasure.”

  * * *

  Snow was falling from a dark sky when Robin emerged from the Colorado Springs airport. She hadn’t expected snow, but she had come prepared with warm clothes. Nich­olas snuggled against her as she negotiated with a taxi driver to take her to Devin’s. Judy, without fuss or explanation, had presented her with Devin’s address and telephone number.

  “I still don’t know,” the driver said. He had the kindly face of a grandfather, but their negotiations had been tough going so far. “That’s pretty far into the mountains. And the roads are getting slippery.”

  “Please? I have to get there tonight. There’ll be a healthy tip in it for you.”

  The driver looked at his watch. “All right. Get in. But I’m not going to wait once we’re there. I’ve got to be back in town by ten.”

  “No problem.”

  Robin slid into the seat and fastened Nicholas’s car seat beside her. She’d come equipped with everything he needed for a short stay except a crib. Devin had never had any rea­son to buy anything for their son. She had never allowed him to bring Nicholas here. And Devin had loved her enough to accept that, despite his own needs.

  She had been such a fool.

  Nicholas fussed as the cab negotiated streets, passed the Air Force Academy and started into the mountains. He continued to fuss, despite everything she did to try to calm him.

  The ride seemed interminable. Between Nicholas’s fuss­ing and the gradual slowing of the cab as the roads thick­ened with snow, time slogged by. She couldn’t even entertain herself by looking out the window. There was a sheer dropoff on her side, and the sight of it made her head reel.