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A Mother's Secret

Page 2

by Janice Kay Johnson


  The awful thing was, she couldn’t wish for a single thing about her son to be any different than it was.

  She took a deep breath. Of course she couldn’t throw everything in the car and flee. She had a job, a classroom of kids expecting her to show up Monday morning. Without a recommendation from the Cabrillo Unified School District, she’d never work as a teacher again.

  And, darn it, she’d made a good life for herself and her son right here. They had friends, a home. Naomi was right. I’m overreacting.

  Daniel had seen Malcolm and not suspected. She wasn’t likely to encounter him again by chance; with a four-year-old, she ate at McDonald’s more often than she did an upscale place like the Moss Beach Distillery. She hung out at playgrounds.

  Rebecca couldn’t imagine Daniel Kane running to make a merry-go-round twirl. And fast food was definitely not his style.

  She let out a long breath. “Okay. I’m over it. You’re right. I did dodge the bullet. The worst has happened, and I got lucky.”

  “I’m not even sure it was luck,” Naomi said. “I meant it. People see what they expect to see. That’s all he did. Although if Mal had said Mommy…”

  Another whimper escaped Rebecca.

  Naomi scrunched up her face in apology. “I almost said ‘your mother.’ Did you notice?”

  “Are you kidding? I thought my knees were going to give out!”

  Her friend was the first to giggle. She clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry! It’s just…You should have seen your expression!”

  Just like that, they were both laughing so hard, their eyes were watering. Malcolm came out to see why, and Rebecca couldn’t stop long enough to reassure him.

  Okay, so she was hysterical. But she thought she had a darned good excuse.

  Later, after Naomi had gone and Malcolm was placated enough to go back to his plastic action figures, Rebecca made herself remember the moment she’d first met Daniel Kane’s eyes.

  Why, oh, why, had she felt a spurt of such pleasure when she saw him, despite everything? Why had she wanted him to smile at her, to say, “I’ve missed you”? Why had her heart nearly stopped when he told her he’d thought about her, that he had almost called?

  Because she was an idiot, that’s why. Because she was in love with him the entire time she’d dated him, and had somehow failed in the intervening years to fall out of love with him.

  How could she, Rebecca thought wretchedly, when she saw so much of him in Malcolm, the person she loved most in the world? How could she forget Daniel, when she was forced to think of him with guilt and gratitude and fear every single day?

  How she wished she hadn’t turned her head today just at the moment Daniel was glancing out at the patio. If she hadn’t seen him, the pain of losing him wouldn’t feel raw again. And she wouldn’t have to agonize yet again over whether, in not telling him he had a son, she’d done something terrible.

  DANIEL COULDN’T HELP HIMSELF. He kept replaying the whole scene, looking for clues he might have missed. What he didn’t understand was why he’d become obsessed. Rebecca had severed their relationship five years ago with no apparent regrets, and clearly she hadn’t felt any since. Let it go, he told himself, and had to keep repeating it every time he caught himself trying to remember exactly what she’d said.

  Maybe it was an ego thing. He didn’t like admitting she just plain wasn’t interested.

  Yeah, but he met women all the time who weren’t interested. He didn’t expect to be irresistible to every woman who caught his eye. So why was he so bugged by Rebecca Ballard’s reaction to him?

  Because he had missed her. Whether he liked it or not, she had wounded more than his pride.

  He was in his office, looking at his computer monitor where cost projections for the Cabrillo Heights subdivision were laid out on a spreadsheet. Daniel couldn’t make himself concentrate on them. His mind kept doubling back to that first sight of Rebecca, laughing.

  He sat back in his chair and quit bothering to pretend he was scrutinizing the damn spreadsheet.

  It was that first moment, he thought, when she recognized him midlaugh. A moment when something else had bloomed on her face. Pleasure. Awareness. Joy. His eyes narrowed as he remembered. He didn’t think he was wrong in believing she had been happy to see him, until…what? A blink of the eye later, she had looked aghast.

  From then on, she’d been civil, but the strain was easy to see. She ached for him to depart. All she wanted was to rejoin her friend and the little boy.

  Daniel frowned. The friend wasn’t anyone she had introduced him to, back when he and Rebecca were damn near living together for over a year. So “Aunt Nomi” was someone she’d met in the past five years. Well, Rebecca had always been good at making friends. Maybe this Nomi was another teacher.

  Adults and kids alike had been drawn to Rebecca. It wasn’t surprising the boy had seemed so comfortable with her.

  Daniel’s brows drew together again. More than comfortable, he thought.

  I’m getting real hungry. When are you coming back?

  Did children talk like that to friends of their parents? He sure as hell wouldn’t have, when he was that age.

  Forget the kid, he told himself, shaking his head. Figure out why Rebecca had been so shocked to see him. If she was truly indifferent to him, she wouldn’t have been so uncomfortable.

  Something else was going on. He wished he knew what that was.

  HE’D SPENT WORSE Christmas Eves, although Daniel wouldn’t have chosen the holiday for his own wedding.

  In the unlikely event he ever got married, that was.

  But for his nephew, Joe, and the pretty young teacher he’d evidently fallen for, it seemed to work. Joe had decided to propose in a big way, boldly doing so on stage after the Nativity play at the elementary school where Pip taught. Since he’d also flown in Pip’s family all the way from New Zealand, it made sense to get married right away, while her family was still here in San Francisco.

  They’d likely envisioned a small wedding, but had ended up with a nearly full church. Even though Pip hadn’t been in the U.S. that long, she’d made plenty of friends. Between her family and half the staff of the school, she came close to filling her side of the church. Joe had friends and coworkers, too, and family.

  Family that neither he nor Daniel had known about not so long ago. Daniel’s mother, Josephine Fraser, had died ten years ago, leaving only Daniel himself, his much older brother, Adam, Adam’s son, Joe, and Joe’s daughter from his first—failed—marriage, Kaitlin. With Adam having died this fall, this Christmas their family group should have been small: Joe, Daniel and cute, ten-year-old Kaitlin.

  But, no.

  This wasn’t the time to think about it.

  Joe waited at the altar, a big, dark, often grim man in a tux. Daniel, as best man, stood at his elbow, glad he had an excuse not to be sitting with the half sister and her daughter and assorted others who made up this new family that so entranced Joe.

  Joe’s little girl, Kaitlin, solemn with a flower circlet on her head, came first, sprinkling rose petals. Her dark hair, usually confined in tiny braids, was a wavy cloud. She looked so cute in a pretty peach-colored dress, Daniel grinned in pride and affection from her first step at the back of the church. Mostly she concentrated on her task, her brown eyes serious, but she smiled as she acknowledged her dad and her beloved uncle Daniel before she found her place in the front pew.

  And then came the maid of honor, another schoolteacher, and at last Pip, glowing for the man she loved. Her pregnancy wasn’t yet obvious, and she was lovely in beaded white satin.

  Joe watched her walk down the aisle, an expression on his hard face that was new to Daniel. There was no doubt at all, and something that might have been wonder, in Joe’s eyes. Daniel might have felt cynical if Pip hadn’t looked as amazed and awed and…soft…when she smiled at this American she’d unexpectedly come to love.

  The ceremony was simple, elegant and heartfelt. The kiss was pas
sionate enough to send a stir through the crowd.

  In the wake of the bride and groom, Daniel ushered both the maid of honor and Kaitlin out. And after breaking free of the crowd, Kaitlin drove with him to the hall rented for the reception.

  “That was perfect,” she declared. “Did you see Dad? And Ms. Browne?”

  “I saw.” Not naturally comfortable with children, Daniel made an exception for Kaitlin. He reached out and squeezed her thin shoulder. “You’re happy about this, aren’t you?”

  “It’s perfect!” The ten-year-old gave a shiver of delight. “I knew it would be.”

  The young were capable of such faith and hope, but Daniel found that, for once, he wanted to believe. Joe deserved a kind of happiness he’d never known.

  He and Daniel had been raised more like brothers than uncle and nephew. Joe’s father, Adam, was twenty years older than Daniel. They’d been too far apart in age to be close, although Adam had tried, when Daniel was young, to stand in for the father who wasn’t very interested in his son.

  The reception hall wasn’t anything fancy; given how quickly this wedding had been put together, they’d been lucky to find anywhere large enough for the purpose. But white tablecloths, white gardenias, a band already warming up and a buffet table laden with food made the hall plenty festive.

  Daniel was glad to be insulated from the new family again, this time by Pip’s, sharing the bride and groom’s table. They were flying home to New Zealand the day after Christmas, and savoring every moment with her in the meantime.

  Pip’s father offered the first toast, Daniel the second.

  “To my nephew, who is really my brother and my best friend, and to the woman he loves as he’s never loved before…” Daniel had trouble finishing. Couldn’t remember what he’d meant to say. Joe pulled him into a rough embrace, slopping his champagne. Afterward, he went with what he saw on their faces, even though it was sappy as hell. Holding up his glass, he concluded, “To a lifetime of joy.”

  Everyone smiled and drank. Pip’s mother, he saw, wiped tears from her eyes, and her father looked to be battling them.

  The petite dark-haired woman at the next table offered a warm toast to her nephew and the lovely woman who’d joined her life to his.

  Daniel drank to that one, too, but he didn’t turn his head to meet her gaze.

  Incredibly enough, she was his half sister. His brother Adam’s full sister. Daniel was still dazed by the revelations that made it so.

  His mother had been married twice, first to a World War II war hero who had been killed by a drunk driver shortly after coming home. Adam had always believed he was the result of that brief marriage. Josephine Fraser had remarried nineteen years later. Daniel, born of that marriage, had been barely five when his parents split, and he had virtually no relationship with his father now beyond obligatory Christmas cards.

  This past year, Daniel, Adam and Joe had been shocked to learn that Adam’s father was actually another soldier named Robert Carson who had fought at William Fraser’s side and apparently had felt obligated to take care of his buddy William’s widow. This despite the fact that Carson was married.

  Daniel couldn’t help growling damn near every time he thought about Robert’s notion of “taking care” of a woman. What he’d done was make her his mistress, and so quickly Adam had to have been conceived awfully soon after the funeral of his supposed father.

  That wasn’t the worst of the revelations, though. The part that had shocked Daniel was that the affair had continued. Two years later, Josephine had given birth to another baby, a girl, and given her up so that Robert Carson and his wife, Sarah, could raise her as their own. Adam, just a toddler when his sister was born, hadn’t remembered her. It was this sister, Jenny Carson, who had just toasted Joe and his bride.

  Daniel could no longer think of his mother without anger. It would seem he’d never really known her, a woman who would give away her own child.

  Should he feel lucky that she’d kept him?

  Since she’d died ten years back, Robert Carson almost as long ago, and Sarah Carson this past year, this all would have been ancient history except that the younger generations now had to deal with the fallout.

  Adam hadn’t been able to. Daniel believed to this day that the shock of the revelations had contributed to Adam having that second, deadly stroke.

  The Carsons’ son, Sam, who’d been raised to think he was their only biological child, wasn’t happy. He was particularly pissed to find out his younger, supposedly adopted sister was actually Robert’s child by blood, as well as law.

  Daniel’s half sister, Jenny, had taken the surprises better than most, even though she’d learned that her father had lied to her all her life, letting her think she was adopted when she was actually his. But, hey, she’d grown up in San Francisco during the sixties, so maybe she came by her attitude of peace and love naturally.

  What Daniel knew was that she didn’t feel like family to him. Neither did her daughter, Sue. Ties of blood didn’t mean anything to him.

  And he had no relationship at all to Sam Carson, the golden boy who had resented finding out Adam was also a Carson, and older by a few weeks besides. Or to Sam’s daughter, Belle.

  If not for Joe, Daniel would have shaken his head, been pleasant if any of the Carsons called, and left it at that.

  Joe, though, had finally embraced the extended family. Somehow they’d all ended up gathered at Adam’s bedside at the rehab facility. Almost all of them had attended Adam’s funeral, and now they were gathered here today to witness Joe’s wedding.

  Only Sam was missing. Even his wife, Emily, was here, and their daughter, Belle, neither of whom were related to Daniel.

  Unfortunately, the Carsons et al were acting a hell of a lot like family, no matter how much Daniel wished they weren’t.

  Yeah, but this was Joe’s wedding, and he’d wanted them here. That was what counted, Daniel reminded himself. For Joe’s sake, he’d be civil. Even friendly. He might even dance with Jenny, because he couldn’t think of a way not to, short of rudeness.

  Love wasn’t a word much in Daniel’s vocabulary, but he’d loved Adam, he loved doe-eyed Kaitlin…and he loved Joe. Who deserved whatever Daniel had to give tonight to make this Christmas Eve perfect.

  PIP AND JOE HAD DECIDED to celebrate Christmas day at home. Tomorrow they would begin their honeymoon—a short one because she had to be back in the classroom right after New Year’s. Daniel was one of the few people to know they were going only as far as Sausalito, the charming hillside town across the bay, where Joe had made reservations at an elegant waterfront hotel. They’d be taking her family to the airport before crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. Pip, he imagined, would still be teary at that point. She’d be unlikely to see her family more than once a year, considering they lived a half a world away.

  Today, though, she brimmed with happiness at still having them here. Besides her family, Daniel and Kaitlin were the only additions. Joe’s ex-wife, Nadia, had been generous, giving up her daughter for Christmas Eve and Day both, since this year they were so special to Joe.

  Pip and her mom went all out on dinner, an amazing feat given that they’d also just planned and executed a wedding. Daniel, Joe and Pip’s father did the cleanup. Content, they settled in the living room with coffee and admired the Christmas tree, bare of packages now but still bright and festive.

  Christmas carols played softly in the background. Daniel was feeling mellow enough to mildly enjoy them. There was a time and a place, and this was it. Joe’s happiness, he realized, was contagious. Kaitlin was the only person who’d been able to lighten Joe’s face in the past. But his expression when he smiled at his pretty New Zealand–bred schoolteacher wasn’t anything Daniel had ever seen before.

  Joe might have gotten really lucky this time around.

  Ten-year-old Kaitlin with her serious brown eyes sat on the arm of Daniel’s chair and whispered, “They’re being all gooey, aren’t they?”

&nbs
p; “I don’t think they can help it,” Daniel murmured, bemused by how hard his tough-guy nephew had fallen.

  “Nope.” Joe’s daughter sounded remarkably satisfied. “Usually the school won’t let kids be in their mom or dad’s class. But since we’re halfway through the year, they decided it was okay if I stayed in Ms. Browne’s class.”

  “Mrs. Fraser’s class, now.”

  “Yeah!” She wriggled in delight.

  Watching his nephew, Daniel was struck anew by how much he looked like the young Robert Carson in photos. Once you were aware of the relationship, you couldn’t miss it. According to the letter Sarah Carson had left to be opened after her death, she had always known about her husband’s other child with Jo Fraser. She might have seen this grandson, since Joe and Sue had gone to high school together. That would have hurt. Even though he was dark-haired rather than blond, Joe took after her husband—square jawed and big shouldered—far more than her own son or granddaughters did.

  The doorbell chimed, interrupting his reflections.

  “Sue said she and Rick would try to stop by later.” Joe stood. “I hope that’s them.”

  He returned with not only Sue and her husband but Belle and her fiancée. Daniel looked warily behind them, but thank God the rest of the family hadn’t descended, as well.

  Belle was in front, her dark-haired fiancé’s hand on her back. Daniel had met Sam Carson’s daughter, Isabelle, only in passing. Belle, as she liked to be called, was definitely the golden girl, with a mass of wavy blond hair and vivid blue eyes. Her smile was warm as she greeted everyone. Daniel had been surprised that she didn’t seem to share her father’s arrogance. She and Sue were apparently close friends, and she seemed willing to like Daniel, the son of the woman who’d had an affair with her grandfather. Go figure.

  It was Sue who unsettled him. He couldn’t help thinking about his mother and the decision she’d made. Had she steeled her heart to the baby girl she obviously hadn’t wanted, Sue’s mother? Had she ever caught glimpses of Jenny as the years passed?

 

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