Twice in a Lifetime
Page 21
"Oh, Bobbie," he whispered, his breath hot and unsteady against her cheek. "How can I bear to leave you again?"
For a moment shock precluded speech. Still trembling with the heat of the emotions he had aroused, she could not even think, for surely she must not have heard him correctly. Then, as he slowly pushed away, brushing back his hair and taking a few slow breaths to regain control of his own thoughts, the tragedy of the present and the problems of the future came creeping slowly back.
"It's true," he admitted heavily. "I have to leave again right away." Still she could not speak, and he explained, "It's more important now than ever that I go on with my original plan, and I've got to wind up what I have on the drawing board now so that I can settle down as a full-time father. I hate to do this to the kids, they've just gotten to know me and at this age they forget so fast."
He said suddenly, urgently, "They're good kids, Bobbie. I was expecting all sorts of psychological problems, but if they have any, I can't tell. They're open and they're happy and I guess shuffling them around from one place to another, one nanny to another, has made them adaptable, because they get along with anybody." He closed his eyes briefly and released another heavy breath. "I know what this is asking of you, Bobbie. You didn't bargain for a pair of noisy two-year-olds when you let yourself love me. Being a wife is a job in itself, much less a mother on such short notice, and a mother to someone else's children. I wouldn't think less of you if—"
She opened her mouth to speak, but he silenced her with a finger laid lightly across her lips. "Please," he entreated. "Don't give me your answer now. Kate has agreed to baby-sit for me while I'm gone, and if you will, take the time to get to know them, to think about it… and tell me when I get back. Will you do that for me? Please?"
She dropped her eyes, her brow marred with confusion and a slight hint of desperation. "Kyle, I—"
Again he silenced her, this time with a gentle touch of his lips. "Please," he insisted. Then he looked at her, his eyes deep with sincerity. "I just want you to know that whatever your decision I'll understand. Don't think I'll think less of you if—if you decide what I'm offering is not for you. Because I'll always love you."
She looked at him, wanting only to be held again in his strong embrace and to feel his body warming hers and to imagine it would be that way forever, pushing aside all sorrow and unpleasantness and the problems that threatened their happiness. But the decisions that hung over her could not be ignored so easily, and she did not speak again as they started slowly back to the house.
It was one of those rare, bright November days with temperatures in the fifties, probably the last one of the season. Michael had gotten a little ahead of himself, inspired by the presence of the twins, and erected a play yard on the front lawn, complete with sandbox, climbing dome, slide, and tunnel. His niece and nephew were doing a fine job of breaking it in for the new arrival, and Barbara and Kate sat in lawn chairs nearby, laughing at their antics, while they waited for Michael to return from the airport.
Kate, adjusting the afghan that covered the bulge of her abdomen, commented, "They look just like Kyle, don't they? It's unusual, at their age."
Barbara agreed, but there was a lot unusual about those children. They had their father's stunning good looks, his effervescent personality, his quick intelligence. Already they were stringing together sentences that were actually intelligible. They were energetic and inquisitive and had to be watched constantly, but when scolded they could melt the heart with a look and they knew no adult could resist a quick hug and a beaming smile and the simple words "I love you." They still occasionally called Michael Daddy, although they made a concentrated effort to repeat the phrase "Uncle Mike" when he reminded them. "Auntie Kate" was easier, and although they addressed both Kate and Barbara as Mama, Barbara thought they called her Mama more often than Kate.
Barbara turned to her sister. "Why didn't you tell me about the children?" she asked for the first time.
Kate shook her head wonderingly. "I thought you knew. I really did. Michael and I had agreed to stay out of it, but I thought all along that was what was keeping you and Kyle apart. I thought," she confessed, "that you were afraid Kyle was just looking for a mother for his children. There was many a time when I caught Kyle looking at you with that hurt and wanting in his eyes, and it was all I could do to keep from pounding some sense into your head."
Jason became stuck on the slide just then, and Barbara got up to help him. She took him on two squealing rides down the slide, then had to repeat the same for Jennifer, and when she left them happily playing again and returned to her seat, Michael's car was pulling into the driveway.
She was aware of taking several calming breaths, automatically smoothing her hair beneath the woolly hat that protected it from the wind, and forcing herself to relax before she saw Kyle get out of the passenger seat. Their eyes met for just a second; he gave her a cautious, questioning smile, and then he went over to the children.
It was probably true that they did not remember him, but the twins, like their father, had never met a stranger. They greeted him enthusiastically, especially when they saw the large, multistriped ball he had brought them, and they spared him a quick hug each before noisily demanding his attention with the ball.
Michael and Kate watched them fondly for a moment, dreaming of their own future, and then Michael scolded, "You shouldn't be sitting out in this wind. Come on inside."
Kate groaned as he helped her struggle to her feet. "He's going to kill me with kindness," she complained. Then, "I'll make some hot chocolate. You'd better not keep them out too much longer."
"I won't," Barbara responded. "It's almost time for their naps, anyway."
Kyle left the children absorbed in the fascination of the new toy as Michael and Kate went inside. Barbara gave him a cautious smile as he approached. "Rough trip?"
"The usual," he replied, and his smile too was a little reserved.
"Did you get everything accomplished you set out to?"
"Sure did."
He sat on the ground at her feet and linked his fingers lightly through hers. For a moment he simply studied their entwined fingers, and then he looked up at her. His smile was brave and encouraging, his eyes were filled with both dread and hope. "Well, friend," he said softly, "there's no time like the present. Tell me what you've been thinking."
But even as she looked at him, she knew he had prepared himself for the worst. She took another deep breath, dropping her eyes. "Kyle," she began, "you were right—it's not a decision to leap into hastily, and I've given it a lot of thought." She had to look at him. "They're beautiful children, Kyle," she said softly. "They're sweet and they're smart and they're so like their father it breaks my heart." She felt his fingers tighten on hers with a leap of hope, and she went on quickly. "But you wanted to know what I've been thinking, and it's this: There's so much to consider, Kyle. I've just now gotten my life back together again, I love my job, and I have a chance at a really rewarding career in a position of responsibility."
She felt the despair seep through him, heard his catch of breath, but she had to go on. Anything less than perfect honesty would be unfair. "You were right when you warned me we would have more problems than the average couple, and, well, I'm not very good at adjusting, I'm afraid. I don't know anything about children, about being a mother." She felt him slowly retreating from her. His head was bowed. "It's not that the twins aren't easy to love," she insisted, "it's just that I'm wondering if it would really be fair to them for you to take on an underconfident, inexperienced wife. They are going to need all your attention and all your love for a while, and it won't be easy—"
"It's all right," he interrupted quietly, quickly. "I understand." He looked up at her, and the pain in his eyes was almost unbearable. "I told you," he said, "that whatever you decided I would understand." He stood, letting her hand drop. He could no longer look at her, and he turned to the children. "Jason, Jenny," he called. "Come along. Time to go in
side."
He glanced back at her. "I, uh, guess it would be better—" he shoved his hands miserably into his jacket pockets, dropping his eyes again "—if we left right away. As soon as I get the kids packed and cleaned up." He looked at her for one brief, agonizing moment. "I do still love you, Bobbie," he said softly and turned back to the children.
She gaped at him in astonishment.
"Come on, kids," he called, forcing brightness in his tone. "We're going on an airplane ride!" The children, involved, ignored him.
Barbara stood and swept passed him into the play yard. "You didn't let me finish," she accused.
She knelt and opened her arms to the twins. "Didn't you hear your daddy!" she exclaimed. "We're going on an airplane ride! Come on!"
She heard Kyle's surprised breath and his cautious step behind her as the children ran happily to her. A slight flush of anger colored her cheeks as she looked defiantly up at him, an arm around each child. "You wanted to know what I thought," she told him, "and now you know. Are you interested in what I've decided?"
He looked bewildered, cautiously hopeful, thoroughly confused. "I—I thought—"
"You're always thinking for me," she returned in annoyance. "You thought I wouldn't like your paintings, you thought I didn't like children." And then her face softened. "One of the things I love most about you, I suppose, is that you almost always know what I'm thinking, but in this case you were wrong." She smiled at him. "I hope you made reservations for four, because we go as a set."
For a moment a joy so intense it transfigured his face swept over him, then he knelt beside them and included all three in his embrace. The children thought it was a marvelous new game, and they laughed and squealed and finally escaped, until only the two adults remained, their arms linked loosely around one another, cheek against cheek. "Idiot," Barbara whispered, stroking his hair. "I didn't need all this time to think about it. I know life doesn't come with a money-back guarantee. I know there will be problems. But I love you. We can handle them."
Kyle's arms tightened around her waist, his lips brushed her hair, and joy surged through Barbara in slow, pulsating waves. The children played happily in the background and for a moment both adults turned to watch them, experiencing the same emotion, sharing a single dream of a home ringing with laughter, dozens of children, and love filling every corner of their lives.
Then Barbara turned to him. Her lips met his in a flood of contentment and happiness too great to be expressed in words, her back against the past and her arms around a future filled with the promise of a lifetime.
It was enough. It was more than enough.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen