by Brenda Novak
“Now every time you look at it you’ll think of us,” she said.
He didn’t admit it, but he was afraid he couldn’t forget them even if he wanted to.
ANGELA REACHED FOR the phone half a dozen times without picking it up. Tonight was the night to tell him. Kayla had gone to Reno with Lewis and his family, so Angela was alone. She could talk to Matt, explain the pregnancy that had resulted from what had happened thirteen years ago and see what he’d like to do about it before she broke the news to Kayla.
Maybe he’d settle for annual or biannual visits. Why not? He wasn’t used to having a child. And it wasn’t as if Angela needed him for financial support. She did fine on her own. She’d suggest they share Kayla.
But what if he didn’t want to share? He didn’t seem like the type to have a part-time daughter. He seemed like the kind of man who claimed what belonged to him and took care of his own.
She wiped her sweaty palms on the old jeans she’d pulled on, along with a sweatshirt. She was scared. But picturing that essay, those question marks that had replaced Kayla’s last name, made Angela reach for the handset with enough resolve to get the job done. Kayla Jackson had a nice ring to it. Matt was a father to be proud of.
The phone rang just as Angela touched it. Taking a deep breath, she brought it to her ear. “Hello?”
“I want to see you. Will you come over?”
It was Matt. Of course. She’d known it would be.
Angela bit her lip. Could she really break her promise to Betty? What if he insisted on raising Kayla, and Stephanie managed to get her life together? Would he include her at all?
There were so many variables, so many risks….
“Angela?”
“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” she said and hung up.
CHAPTER EIGHT
STEPHANIE SAT ON HER COT and kept rocking, back and forth, back and forth. It was the only way to deal with the turmoil inside her. The methadone the nurse had given her was curbing her withdrawal symptoms, but nothing could ease her agitation over what she’d just learned.
When the nurse had called Angela’s work number, she’d been told that Angela was out of town. Then the nurse had explained that it was an emergency, and some assistant had said Angela had gone to Virginia City for the holidays.
Stephanie rocked faster. Virginia City. Angie had gone home without her. And she’d taken Kayla. After thirteen years.
Why? That was the question. There was nothing left in Virginia City.
Except maybe Matt.
ANGELA COULD SCARCELY breathe as she waited on Matt’s front step—and it didn’t get any easier once he opened the door.
Dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a blue striped shirt with a white T-shirt underneath, he was fresh from the shower. His hair was still damp and curled around his collar. She thought he looked better than she’d ever seen him. Especially when his lips curved into a crooked smile as his eyes swept over her, telling her that he liked what he saw just as much. “Come in.”
She couldn’t get physical with him, she reminded herself. They both needed to have clear heads, to make a wise decision uninfluenced by peripheral desires. A decision about Kayla.
But then he tilted up her chin and kissed her softly, and all she wanted to do was melt in his arms and let him bury her fear beneath a torrent of sensation.
“I’m making you some dinner,” he said, as she greeted Sampson. “I hope you’re hungry.”
Angela had been so preoccupied that she hadn’t bothered to eat. “I am hungry,” she admitted and ignored the voice that was yelling Tell him! in the corner of her mind. They had all night, didn’t they? She had to wait for the right moment.
STEPHANIE STOOD at the pay phone, cursing the long wait as other addicts called a boyfriend, a girlfriend, family. They were limited to one call a day and Stephanie had already taken her turn, but she didn’t care. She pushed in front of several people, brushing aside their complaints. She needed to use the phone again, and no one was stopping her.
Was Angela moving to Virginia City? Was that what was going on? Or was she taking Kayla to her father?
After she’d found out she was pregnant, her mother’s reaction was the only reason Stephanie hadn’t told Matt. She’d wanted to let him know about the baby, could hardly wait to break the news that he had to notice her now. That she had something no one else did, even his beloved Danielle. She’d never seen her mother as angry as she’d been the day she’d learned—thanks to Angela—exactly what Stephanie had done. Betty had promised right then that if Stephanie ever told Matt about Kayla—if she ever told anyone the name of Kayla’s father—it would be the last straw. Betty would disown Stephanie, and she’d be out on her ass. For real. No family. No friends. No one to catch her when she fell.
Deep in her heart, Stephanie had known she needed her mother too much to sever that tie. And, in her more honest moments, she’d also known that even if Matt had accepted Kayla, he would never fully accept Stephanie. So she’d been forced to stick with her only form of support. She had to save herself one last chance, always. Betty was her ticket to a better life, when she’d finally had enough.
Once she’d grown older, however, she hadn’t used that chance and she’d rarely thought of Matt. He hadn’t been much of a partier in high school. She knew he wouldn’t approve of her and didn’t need his arrogant judgments.
But neither did she need Angela thinking she could take Betty’s place now that Betty was dead. Angela had told Stephanie she had to clean up if she wanted to be part of her daughter’s life. Yet Angela had no right to make such a stipulation. Stephanie had only signed those guardianship papers, giving Kayla to her mother, because she’d been desperate for a few bucks. Angela wasn’t even related to Kayla. How could Betty have signed Kayla over to her? Angela was a parasite her mother had picked up long ago, and now the flea thought she owned the dog.
Memories of her friend pleading with her to take control of her life threatened to undermine Stephanie’s resolve, as did an underlying knowledge that Kayla was probably better off without a mother like her, but Stephanie wouldn’t allow it. As long as Angela had Kayla, Angela couldn’t turn Stephanie away.
But Angela’s return to Virginia City seemed to confirm Stephanie’s worst fear. Was it over? Was Angela really giving up on her?
At last, Stephanie reached the front of the line. Behind her, she could hear two women complaining about how pushy she’d been. She knew they might report her. She’d leave the shelter if they did. This call meant that much to her.
She held the receiver, her hands shaking from withdrawal, but also from the emotions pounding through her. Her daughter was the one good thing that had ever happened to her. She couldn’t let Angela turn Kayla over to Matt.
“Operator. How can I help you?”
Stephanie drew a bolstering breath. She had to talk to someone who might’ve seen Angela, someone who might know what was going on. But who?
It took four tries—and all the change she’d won in a poker game earlier—before the operator actually had the number Stephanie had requested. “I’ll put you through,” she said.
Then the phone rang twice and Sheila Gilbert picked up.
“I have a collect call from Stephanie Cunningham. Will you accept the charges?”
There was a slight pause, followed quickly by a surprised, “Sure, no problem.”
MATT SAT AT ONE END of the couch facing Angela, who sat on the other. Sampson lay contently between them, stretched out at their feet. They’d had dinner and talked about his family, his job, her job, what it was like in Denver, how Virginia City had changed. He’d enjoyed the conversation, felt they’d connected in a way he hadn’t connected with a woman in years. She hadn’t touched him, but he still hoped the evening would end as he wanted it to. Imagining her as he’d seen her at his parents’, her head thrown back in wild abandon as he kissed her neck, bare shoulders and breasts, made his heart race.
He ached to touc
h her again. Would he get the same powerful reaction?
He certainly didn’t want to spook her again. That night at his parents’, everything had happened way too fast. This time, he was determined to slow things down. Maybe he could even convince her to stay the night.
He liked the thought of that. But he felt it was important to talk about their other encounter. He had a feeling this relationship could be different from the casual flings he’d had with various women since Danielle, and that made him nervous. For the first time in ages, he wanted something he could lose. Especially because Angela didn’t seem receptive to anything serious. And she lived two states away.
Obviously, there’d have to be some kind of compromise if they were going to build anything long-term out of their tremendous attraction.
“About the other night…” he began.
She lifted her eyes above the rim of her glass. She’d refused wine and was having cranberry juice. “What about it?” she asked as she set the glass aside, suddenly cautious.
“I’m confused,” he admitted. “I can tell you’re not interested in letting me touch you again, and yet…I thought you enjoyed it.”
She cleared her throat. “I did.”
Frowning, he studied her. “Then why—”
“It’s not a matter of want,” she said, still guarded.
“So…you’re upset because it was too fast? More than you bargained for? What?”
“No.” She tucked her hair behind one ear, giving him the impression she was stalling, thinking. “I—having you there, touching me, kissing me…it got the better of me, that’s all. I knew I shouldn’t let myself be swept away. But it’d been so long since I’d made love…and it’ll probably be a long time before I do it again.”
Matt felt as if she’d kicked him in the stomach. “You’re saying it wasn’t necessarily me you wanted. I just happened to come along and I could provide what had been missing from your life?”
“Matt, I’m dealing with a lot right now. I can’t worry about my own needs and desires. Like I said, that got the best of me, but now I’ve got to—”
“The other night you said my name as if I was the only man in the world,” he interrupted. “You arched into me as if you’d abandon your soul to me, too, if you could.”
Her jaw dropped as she gaped at him. “What do you want me to say?” she replied. “That I wish circumstances were different? That I wish we had a chance? Because I do. I want to make love with you right now. It’s all I can do to keep from reliving those minutes, to keep from wanting you again! But—”
Matt’s body had reacted instantly to her passionate words. He wanted the same thing. Here on the couch, on the table, anywhere. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so desperate for another woman. “But?” he echoed.
“There’s something I have to tell you.”
The gravity in her voice made him uneasy. But she’d already insisted she wasn’t married. Twice. So, as far as he could see, what she had to say couldn’t be too bad. Nothing big enough to come between them, anyway. “What’s that?” he asked.
She hugged herself as if she were almost too frightened to proceed. He was tempted to reach out and pull her to him, to comfort her, but he waited.
“Kayla isn’t really my daughter,” she said. “I—I was lying about that. She came to live with me fifteen months ago.”
He blinked. That was surprising but certainly not devastating.
“She feels like my daughter. I love her like a daughter.”
He would’ve felt relieved, except the tears filling Angela’s eyes kept him a little off balance. “Of course you do,” he said gently. “I understand.”
“No, you don’t.” She wrung her hands as the tears spilled down her cheeks. “You see…there was no man who walked out on us. She—she’s Stephanie’s daughter.”
He tried that on for size. This was supposed to be the big shocker? That Angela was raising Stephanie’s daughter? He hoped so, because it didn’t take longer than a split second to realize he could love Kayla regardless of what he felt for Stephanie. It actually made sense. Stephanie was much more likely to get herself in trouble than Angela, who’d been cautious even back in high school.
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m cool with that.”
She dashed a hand across her face. “I’m not finished.”
Sliding closer, he took her hand. “Whatever you have to say, it’s going to be fine.”
She closed her eyes. “Kayla’s grandmother was raising her. I—I took her to live with me when her grandmother died.”
“Why didn’t Stephanie step up?” he asked. “You said she was in Denver, in sales or something.”
She opened her eyes and her hand gripped his like a lifeline. “Stephanie’s a heroin addict, Matt. The only thing she sells is her body. She—she’s not the person I once knew. I’ve finally come to the conclusion that it’s not safe for Kayla to be around her.”
“Wow.” He reached out to smooth the hair from her forehead. “I’m sorry to hear that. Sorry for you and for Kayla. But it doesn’t change what’s between us.”
Her forehead creased in a troubled expression. “Remember that party?” she asked.
“What party?”
“In high school.”
That party. With Stephanie naked. Where he’d had one of his first sexual encounters. Sexual encounters…
Fear struck and Matt dropped her hand. “Yes?”
Angela looked bereft, as if she’d reach out to him, but didn’t. “Matt, I brought Kayla here because she belongs to you.”
Matt rocked back and pressed both hands to his chest, hardly able to breathe. How had Kayla gone from being Angela’s daughter to being his daughter in just a few seconds? His and Stephanie’s, who was now a prostitute and a drug addict!
“It…it can’t be true,” he said softly because his voice wouldn’t go any louder.
“It is true,” she insisted. “Stephanie wanted to get pregnant. She thought she’d finally be able to have you if she did. But when Betty found out what she was up to, she yanked us both out of school and we moved. Betty didn’t want it to ruin your life. She knew how unfair it was to you, your family, your girlfriend, everyone.”
He shook his head, still unable to believe what he was hearing. He’d slept with Stephanie once! And she’d drugged him to get that far. Now Angela was telling him he had a twelve-year-old daughter?
What do you want for Christmas?… I’d like to find my dad….
God! A blinding rage suddenly took hold of him and he shot to his feet. “You knew and yet…you came here, all the while knowing…You let me—” He stopped. Too many thoughts and feelings were assaulting him. He wasn’t sure what he was trying to say. He felt so…manipulated. Then and now.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He stalked to the window so he wouldn’t have to look at her and stared out. It was snowing again, coming down so thick he couldn’t see more than a foot in front of him. What was he supposed to think? What was he supposed to do?
“What do you want from me?” he asked after a long silence.
She didn’t answer right away. When he finally turned, she was standing and had her purse clutched tightly in her hands. “Nothing,” she said. “I—I just thought you should know.”
“Does she know?” he asked.
Angela shook her head. “I decided it’d be smarter to tell you first. This way…nothing has to change. I have everything I need to take care of her. But I…I didn’t want to steal anything from you. Or take anything from her if…if you felt differently. That’s all.”
That was all. She’d given him the most shocking news of his life and now she was leaving with a simple “Oops—never mind.”
He tried to focus on the act of breathing. He kept seeing Stephanie that night, her triumphant smile as Danielle had wept—and he felt sick.
He’d gotten her pregnant. He’d fathered a child at sixteen. And now that child was twelve years old and didn�
�t know who her own daddy was.
CHAPTER NINE
NOTHING HAS TO CHANGE. Those words seemed to echo in Matt’s head long after Angela left. They were so ridiculous. If what Angela had told him was true, if Kayla really belonged to him, everything had changed. Regardless of the way Kayla had been conceived, he couldn’t simply go on as if he didn’t know he had a daughter.
He’d get tests, of course—for his own peace of mind. Stephanie was the one behind this, and he didn’t trust her one bit. But he was fairly sure DNA would confirm what he’d just been told. Kayla was his. Stephanie had been so obsessed with him, he doubted she’d so much as looked at another boy that entire year. And when he pictured Kayla, he could see the family resemblance. It was a wonder he hadn’t noticed it before. Or maybe not. Why would he? He’d never even entertained the thought. Not after one incident he could hardly remember. And not after such a long silence.
I want to find my daddy….
Still at the window, Matt shoved a hand through his hair. I’m your daddy. The reality of that was overwhelming. And yet he felt a strong sense of responsibility. He had to tell Kayla. He couldn’t let a child of his go through life feeling lost and unloved.
But how did he explain what had happened? And where did they go from here?
He needed to call Angela, get her to come back so they could talk. Now that the initial shock was beginning to wear off, he could see that she was in a difficult situation, as well. She wasn’t to blame for Stephanie’s actions thirteen years ago. And yet she was standing in for the absent parents, taking care of a child who wasn’t even hers.
His child.
He wasn’t convinced he’d ever get used to the idea.
Reaching for the cordless phone, he dialed the hotel. No answer. He tried her cell.
“This is Angela Forrester. I’m out of town until after the holidays, but if you’ll leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I can. If this is an emergency, please contact my assistant, Lisa Burton, at Pierpont Realty.”