Sharon had kept this information from Amanda, feeling it was better for her to believe that her parents still didn’t know, rather than face the ugly reality that they didn’t care. Amanda’s mother seemed more worried about what the gossipmongers might think about her than about the crisis her daughter was going through.
“So you’ve decided what you’ll tell your folks?” Sharon asked while making herself comfortable on the couch.
“The way I see it, I only have one choice. Keeping the baby is not an option. Catherine and Nelson would rather die first and I can’t raise a baby now, it wouldn’t be fair. So I’ve decided to give it up for adoption.”
“That’s a very loving thing for you to do,” Sharon concurred. “Children really should have two parents who love them.”
“Yeah, but how do I know that they won’t treat my baby the way my folks treat me?” Amanda asked. Sharon was touched by the teenager’s innate sense of maternal love while torn by her feelings of abandonment.
“For every crazy person who you see on the news accused of abusing their child, there are hundreds of thousands more who love their adopted children. We’ll find a good home for your baby. You don’t have to worry about that.”
“I wouldn’t worry at all if you adopted it,” Amanda said, finally voicing what she’d been thinking for weeks.
Sharon listened intently to the sound of the words she’d heard so many times in her head but had never dared to utter aloud. For months she’d been living vicariously through the teenager’s pregnancy—soaking up the experience through all the cravings, discoveries, and Lamaze techniques that come with expecting a child. And during it all, she had constantly turned that option over in her mind, studying it from every conceivable angle, only to determine it to be a solution riddled with impossibility. Still, hearing such a request from the closest facsimile to a daughter she could claim was cause for Sharon to yet again stop and ponder the possibility.
“You were meant to have kids. It’s like you’re wasting your talents by not having any,” Amanda said with fervent sincerity.
Talent. There was that word again ringing in her head like a bell reminding Sharon of the how-to article she’d read about creating her own life. She thought about her volunteer work at both the children’s hospital and the nursing home and the joy it brought her, as well as the pleasure she’d found befriending and mentoring Amanda. Maybe loving and caring about people was her special talent.
But you still weren’t skilled enough to keep your husband, Sharon’s wicked self-doubt reminded her. And with that doubt came the prompt dismissal of her adopting Amanda’s baby. How could she take care of a child when she wasn’t even certain she could take care of herself? And what would people think about her being a single mom?
“Amanda, I just can’t make that kind of commitment right now. My life is in too much turmoil, with John in the hospital and…” my marriage being over, Sharon thought, but didn’t verbalize. “I have to consider the entire situation.”
“Are you? I mean, have you thought about the possibility that Mr. Carlson might never wake up? What if he stays in a coma, or worse? Then what?” Amanda asked, her gentle tone relaying her concern.
To be so young, this girl was very wise. Whether due to John’s affair or his accident, any way Sharon looked at the situation, all bets on the future she’d once imagined for her and John were off. He could die, divorce her, or remain in a coma for the rest of his life. She could not continue to live in this suspended animation. Fate was forcing Sharon Carlson to take charge of her own life.
If John can have his love on the side, why can’t I? she decided with defiance. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t mind not having children—because I do. And I’m tired of pretending that I’m happy when I’m not, or that I’m willing to move—when I don’t want to. It’s time I start taking responsibility for my own life and happiness.
“Amanda, I’d love to help raise your child,” Sharon announced, clearing the remnant fog of her epiphany with a smile. “I’m sure we can work something out so we can both play a role in your baby’s life.”
Mandy let go a happy holler and pushed her body into Sharon’s for a hug. Just as quickly, she pulled away, grabbed Sharon’s hand, and placed it over her stomach. Within moments, Sharon felt a swift kick against her hand. “I think the baby is happy about this too,” Amanda announced. Her thrill over Sharon’s decision was dampened only by the news she hadn’t shared. Perhaps now was the time to tell her about Kevin.
But what if she changes her mind once she finds out? Amanda decided to wait. She’d tell Sharon later once everything had been worked out and there was less of a chance for her to reverse her decision.
As Sharon pulled the girl back into a hug, a thought popped into her head. I don’t want to raise this baby in New York.
Before she could change her mind, Sharon got up and walked across the room. She picked up the phone and called the real estate agent, letting Fern know that she would not grant the extension and that the house was permanently off the market. Sharon hung up, amazed by her actions. In twenty-four years of marriage to John she had never made such a major decision without his approval. But she was not going to close the window on this sudden opportunity.
In a little more than a month, she was going to be a mother, she was going to raise her child in her own home, and John Carlson was in no position to stop her.
Chapter 28
“If you do talk to him, will you tell him to give me a call?” Candace asked, frustration tingeing her voice. This was the fifth call she’d made to one of Griffin’s actor friends, to no avail. Either they really didn’t know where he was or the fraternal wall of silence was impenetrable. She wanted to explain to Griff why she lied, but he wouldn’t give her the opportunity. Basically he’d tossed Candace out of his life without giving her a chance to make things right.
Candy checked her watch. She had to take a deposition at ten, which gave her another twenty-seven minutes to continue her missing-person investigation. On a whim she decided to take one last look through her e-mail. Hopefully Will had received her message and would come to her rescue with some information about Griff—anything to keep hope alive.
She clicked over to new mail and scrolled down through her mailbox, dismissing anything work-related. Candace felt her stomach jump with expectation when she came across a message from STILLWILL.
Subj: Re: SOS
From: STILLWILL
To: LOLLIPOP
Candace,
Sorry to hear about you and Griff, but you have to admit that what you did was wrong. But I’m not here to judge, only to help out a friend who was there for me when I needed one.
Griffin is in LA. He left shortly after he moved out of your place. The studio put him up in a rented house in Laurel Canyon until they finish shooting. I can’t give you his address or telephone number because I promised him I wouldn’t, but I will personally deliver any message you want to send. I have to be honest, though, he made it real clear to both me and Mel that he’s not interested in hearing from you.
I know this isn’t great news, but hang in there. Who knows what could happen once he’s had a chance to cool down. I mean, look at me. A year ago Mel and I were through and now we’re making honeymoon plans for Italy!
Will
Candace read Will’s hopeful words, but reality kept her from believing them. If Griffin didn’t want to hear from her now, he never would. Sending a note or message via Will would be a waste of time for all concerned. Griff had always been very clear about how he felt about lying and cheating. Betrayal was non-negotiable.
Why couldn’t Griff be more like Will Freedman? She knew Will well enough to know that his parting words about him and Melanie weren’t meant as a gloat but as encouragement. Will was such a good man and friend. He was fine, in a teddy-bear kind of way, smart and had bank. Not only that, he was trusting and nonjudgmental. Look how Will had let Melanie embarrass and hurt him, and still he took he
r back. There was a lot Griffin could learn from his friend—forgiveness, for starters.
What pissed off Candace most was the unfairness of this entire situation. While she was vilified for being such a conniving, two-timing cheat, Melanie was still flitting around wearing a halo and freshly starched angel wings. Melo was always so busy meditating and spouting off about truth and integrity, no one even suspected that she was just as deceitful and secretive as they all accused Candy of being.
Well, I might be all of those things, but at least I’m a loyal friend, Candace thought. Which is far more than I can say for you, Melanie. Where does loyalty and allegiance fit into to all that spiritual goulash of yours?
The hurt Candace felt over the demise of their relationship ran deep. Men came and went, but the bond between girlfriends should be ironclad. Sistafriends were the ones who always had your back, hooked you up when you were needy, shopped the hurt away when life came down hard. She had been Melanie’s friend through her crisis, but when the stuff started to fly with Griffin, Mel had bailed without so much as a look back.
Candace didn’t deserve that kind of betrayal and neither did Will. Funny how life turned out. The friendship she’d had with Melanie was over, but Will continued to be her friend and advocate, even though he was disappointed in her actions, which was more than she could say for his fiancée. Well, one loyal turn certainly deserved another. Will needed to know the truth. She hated to be the ant at his picnic, but it was better that he be hurt now than later after Melo married him under false pretenses.
“We can help each other pick up the pieces,” she decided as she reached for her phone and dialed Will’s number.
Will walked out of the Gold’s Gym locker room and headed directly upstairs to the bag room. He pulled on his gloves and began pummeling the heavy bag, trying to beat out his anger and frustration over the latest descent in his up-and-down relationship with Melanie. With every blow he delivered, his fury mounted, and each exhale took the sound and form of the word Why?
Why had she agreed to marry him if she was in love with someone else? Why did she persist in yanking his chain and playing with his feelings? And why, after everything she’d put him through this past year, could he not get this woman out from under his skin?
He powerfully punched and pushed his leather opponent as if to prove his weakness for this woman was no reflection on his strength as a man. The sweat from his face mixed with his tears. His vision, blurred by the salty blend, seemed a symbolic view of his life. He could see nothing with clarity right now. Exhausted both emotionally and physically, he delivered one last blow and then wrapped his arms around the bag, his body collapsing against the rawhide before sliding onto the floor.
He sank down into the rubber mat, marveling how his life and that of his best friend were running parallel. Both men had been totally devastated by the women they genuinely believed to be their genie-granted wishes. How could they both have been so very wrong?
His relationship with Melanie was dead, and Will saw no chance of resurrection. He was tired of shadowboxing with her elusive sense of commitment. Was he second choice? Winner by default? If John Carlson weren’t already married, would Melanie be making wedding plans with him?
She’d broken his heart twice now. A third break was not an option. His only chance for emotional survival was to rip a page from Melanie’s manual on how to leave your lover. He would simply and immediately drop out of her life, just as she had done to him. The memories of that time had dulled with their recent reconnect, but they were still tender to the touch, an emotional bruise that hadn’t quite healed. Her instantaneous departure had left him feeling as empty as a jack-o’-lantern—hollow inside, wearing a meaningless, frozen smile outside. At the time, he couldn’t understand how she could be so cruel, but now the reasoning was as clear as that DeBeers isn’t-she-worth-two-months’-salary diamond she was so brazenly wearing. To prolong the agony with talk and questions was masochistic. Leaving this way was quick and clean.
Will picked himself up off the floor and slowly treaded back toward the locker room. His head had finally accepted the fact that Melanie Hitts was never going to be his wife. Now if someone could convince his heart.
Melanie sat in the dark, a single candle illuminating the printout of Will’s short, parting e-mail. I can’t marry someone I can’t trust. Simple. Direct. Final.
What was happening? Just when she’d sorted out her feelings and put everything in its proper perspective, her personal life had become a gigantic mess. She was sadly incommunicado with the very people she’d come to depend on as her pillars of loving support. John was battling to get well. Candace and Will had apparently teamed up against her, both wrongfully accusing her of betrayal, each too hurt and angry to return her calls or listen to her explanations.
In hindsight, she was sorry she hadn’t told Will everything about her relationship with John. Just as she’d feared, Candace had flung her vengeful tale, snaring Will in a net of half-truths and misinterpretations. What shocked her most was Will’s readiness to believe Candy without so much as a question or confrontation. Didn’t she at least deserve the chance to defend herself?
“What goes around comes around,” Mel told herself, repeating the familiar karmic warning. In all fairness, she couldn’t be angry with him. She could understand his confusion and pain. Will was working on the same unsettling level as Sharon Carlson, using assumptions to fill in the missing pieces of a puzzle, resulting in a painfully inaccurate picture. They both needed to know the truth, and with John in the hospital, she was the only one who could provide it. Melanie intended to find a way to make things right again.
John and Candace may be lost causes, but she refused to give up on Will. This year had come full circle and through the love of a good friend, she’d learned exactly how and with whom she wanted to live her life. There was no way that she was going to let William Gregory Freedman slip through her fingers for a second time. As soon as she returned from her business trip to South Beach, Melanie intended to do whatever it took to prove to Will that her love was true.
Chapter 29
After sixty-two days without regaining consciousness, John’s doctor recommended taking him off the respirator. Forty-eight hours later he was still comatose, but breathing on his own. The irony was not lost on Sharon that his CAT scan had detected increased brain activity following Melanie Hitts’s visit. Apparently the woman had ways of stirring her husband that even a deep coma could not prevent.
It didn’t matter what Gwen had revealed when she’d handed her Melanie Hitts’s business card and delivered her message about the so-called reality of their relationship. What was she supposed to say, once she’d gotten caught trespassing in forbidden territory? John had briefly read from the same cue cards before his accident. “It’s not what you think. I can explain everything.” Sharon wasn’t buying any of it. She’d seen the letters the woman had written—full of words declaring her love. And she’d witnessed the caring body language Melanie had exhibited at her husband’s bedside.
But what if they are telling the truth? What if John recuperates and decides he wants our marriage to continue? she allowed herself to wonder. Between the bouts of anger came swells of hopefulness. And with those swells the truth always buoyed to the top—she still loved John.
He’ll have to accept me, with the baby, and in this house, Sharon decided as Amanda came downstairs dressed for their meeting with her mother. Sharon watched as she lumbered around the kitchen. The girl’s face was marked with exhaustion and apprehension. Both were to be expected now that she was in the final stages of her pregnancy, but they were even more evident due to the anticipation of seeing her mother after such a long time and under such dubious circumstances.
“Here’s the mail,” Amanda said, handing Sharon a pile of envelopes and catalogs. Sharon tucked them into her tote bag to read later when she went to visit John.
An hour and forty minutes later, the two women stepped off the train at
Grand Central Station and proceeded to flag down a cab to take them uptown to the Sarbains’ Fifth Avenue apartment. Amanda continually shifted in her seat, her discomfort both emotional and physical. They rode in nervous silence, each mentally preparing themselves for the meeting about to take place. Both were steeling themselves for an icy tête-à-tête with Catherine Sarbain—Amanda consumed with the guilt of disappointing her mother in this most public manner, and Sharon feeling the need to protect Mandy from the woman who should be her ultimate source of comfort and unconditional love.
When the driver stopped behind a diplomat’s double-parked limousine, Amanda turned to Sharon and cleared her throat. “I need to tell you something,” she stated in a serious tone that immediately caused Sharon alarm.
“What is it, honey?”
“It’s about Kevin.”
“He hasn’t changed his mind about the adoption, has he?” Sharon said, her panic increasing.
“No, but there is something about him I haven’t told you. About his background.”
Sharon closed her eyes as a myriad of possibilities ran through her head.
“He’s African-American.” That bombshell, accompanied by a painful moan, left Amanda’s mouth. Sharon opened her eyes and focused on Amanda. Her eyebrows were knit together, framing a grimace of pain and confusion. Suddenly she closed her eyes and opened her mouth, the strain on her face screaming out in silent pain.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” she asked as Amanda grabbed her stomach and released another small groan. Sharon was concerned, but also grateful for the distraction, as she had no idea how she felt about Amanda’s revelation.
“I feel funny and I’ve got cramps.”
“How long have you been having pains?”
“They started late last night.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Sharon asked, trying not to sound as alarmed as she felt.
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