“What’s wrong with Sara?” Bo asked in a low, serious voice. “I thought you said things were working out between you.”
“They were—this morning. What’d she tell you?”
“Nothing, but I thought she looked happy. She seemed a little worried about what would happen after the house deal closed…But something’s not right. I get the feeling she’s faking the smiles for Claudie’s sake. What about you?”
Ren slumped back. He’d barely noticed the opulent surroundings that both Sara and Claudie had gushed about. The Stockton Club was fabled for its elegance and exclusivity—only recently had it even started granting memberships to women—but Ren could have been dining at a hamburger joint for all he cared. “I agree. I was giving Brady a bath when she got home. I haven’t had a chance to talk to her alone.” Or touch her. “If you didn’t say anything to her, then it had to be Babe.”
Bo cursed under his breath. “Claudie and I were goofing around outside. We should have been there when Babe arrived.”
Ren straightened. He and Sara had shared more than a kiss this morning—they’d connected. “I should never have let her go to work, but she insisted she needed to run some books by the jail and relieve Claudie.”
“Shall we cut this short?” Bo asked, alerting Ren by his nod that the women were returning.
“I don’t want to hurt Claudie’s feelings.”
Bo made a funny face. “I don’t think she’d care if you play your cards right. Follow my lead.”
Bo rose and motioned for Ren to stand. “Claudie, you are much too beautiful to waste on all these rich old farts. You need to go dancing. Ren’s going to take us home to get my wheels, then I’m taking you out on the town.”
“Really?” she asked, obviously surprised by the change in plans.
Ren pretended to be offended. “Who are you calling old? I’d dance you under the table, but I know Sara’s anxious to check up on my mother and Brady. Right?” he asked.
She nodded. “I don’t want to be a wet blanket, but I wouldn’t mind making sure Brady didn’t decide to disappear on her. What about dessert, Claudie?”
Claudie shifted her gaze from Bo to Sara. Her smile was both real and infectious. “This was the most wonderful meal of my life, and I ate so much I don’t think I’ll ever have to eat again. I’m ready for some exercise.” She grinned wickedly and said, “Just don’t get any ideas, Lester. A graduate like myself has to be careful of her reputation.” Her tone was so “Babe” that they all laughed.
Ren paid the bill, and they left. On the way home, Ren handed a small, wrapped gift to Claudie, who was sitting in the back of the car with Bo. “This is just a little something to help commemorate the day, Claudie. I’m proud of you.”
Sara shifted to look over the seat. In the lights from the dash, Ren could see her bare knee and smooth calf on the seat beside him. The muted glow gave her an ephemeral appearance—like a magical sprite that might disappear without warning. Silently, he prayed they’d be able to recapture the passion they’d shared earlier.
“Oh, Ren, it’s wonderful,” Claudie exclaimed, leaning forward to show Sara the opal pendant on a gold chain.
“It’s a fire opal,” Ren said. “It reminded me of you—lovely and resilient.”
While Bo helped Claudie fasten the necklace, Ren glanced at Sara. There were tears in her eyes. She reached out and touched his face, a gentle, loving caress. “That was incredibly kind,” she whispered.
He turned his face to kiss her hand. “You are incredibly beautiful.”
She pulled back, moving closer to the door.
What did you say to her, Mother? Ren’s disquiet intensified when he pulled into his driveway and spotted a burgundy Cadillac parked behind his mother’s Lincoln.
“Whose car is that?” Sara asked.
“Armory’s.”
“I wonder what he’s doing here. I hope nothing’s wrong.”
His rich meal rumbled in his gut. Ren wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. He didn’t bother to put the car away. Instead, when Bo got out, Ren handed him the keys. “Here. I don’t trust your heap.”
Bo tossed the keys in the air. “Cool. Are you ready, Miss Graduate?”
Claudie looked at Sara. “It’s getting chilly. I think I’ll grab a sweater.”
“I’ll wait for you in the kitchen,” Bo said.
Sara spun around. “You can’t possibly be hungry.”
“I always have room for Revelda’s pie.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed. “You and Brady.”
Together, the group entered the house. Ren ushered Sara ahead of him through the dining room, saying, “Shall we go see what kind of damage Brady managed to do to Babe’s self-confidence?” She put on a nice smile, but Ren could tell Sara wasn’t looking forward to seeing his mother.
He found Babe and Armory in his office, drinking coffee on the sofa. “Hello, Armory. You remember Sara.”
Armory, looking dapper in lightweight slacks and open-collar golf shirt, rose and put out his hand. “Hello, Sara, good to see you again.”
“He’s brought us the lab results, Lawrence,” Babe said.
Armory pointed to a courier’s box sitting on Ren’s desk. Ren was grateful to see it was unopened.
“They delivered on a Saturday?” Sara exclaimed.
“We paid extra for express delivery,” Armory said.
“When he called to tell you it was here, Lawrence, I told him to bring it over directly. No use waiting,” Babe said.
Ren reached for Sara’s hand and pulled her closer to him. He sensed she wanted to run away. “That was nice of you, Armory, but it could have waited until morning—I’m sure you have better things to do with your time on a Saturday night.”
“Well, aren’t you going to open it?” Babe asked, standing.
Ren looked at Sara. “Yes. As soon as we’re alone.”
“What?” his mother croaked. “Alone? The whole point of having Armory here is so you can plan your strategy. Surely you know everything you do from this point on will come under scrutiny.”
Ren looked at her sharply. “Mother, thank you for watching Brady tonight. I assume he’s in bed—you don’t have him tied up someplace do you?” he asked, injecting a bit of humor to soften the frustration he felt at her interference.
He caught Sara’s tiny choke of a laugh.
Babe wasn’t amused. “Of course, he’s in bed. He was a perfect angel. But I didn’t drag Armory all the way over here, just so I could leave before you open that.”
“I’m afraid that’s exactly what’s going to happen. The contents of that box concern Sara’s future and mine, and we’d like to be able to go over it in private.”
Babe looked shocked and angry. She turned toward Armory as if to make him do something. He shrugged sheepishly, then extended a hand to Ren. “Give me a call if you need anything.”
Armory’s defection seemed to enrage Babe. She grabbed the older man’s arm to keep him from leaving.
“Armory, talk to him. Lawrence Bishop, do you have any idea what you’re doing?”
“Yes, Mother, I think so.”
“How you handle this matter will affect your future for the rest of your life.”
He squeezed Sara’s hand. When she looked up at him, he smiled. “I certainly hope so.”
“Lawrence, you and Armory should be discussing a strategy for custody. If that little boy is yours—”
“Mother,” he said sharply, “I told you five weeks ago to stay out of this. Sara and I will handle it. Why is that so hard for you to accept?”
She glanced at Sara. Her tone softened some when she said, “Sara is a very nice person, Lawrence, but I think she’d be the first to agree that, given her background, she’d be more of a liability than an asset to your career.”
Ren’s mouth dropped open. “I can’t believe you said that. Where in the hell do you get off acting like some kind of upper-class matron? Good God, Mother, your father was a farmer.”
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Babe stiffened. “I was referring to her criminal past.”
Ren groaned. He didn’t know how Babe learned those details, since they hadn’t been part of her investigator’s report. “She was a kid. She made a mistake. The only reason I don’t have a record is Granddad Bishop pulled a few strings.”
At Sara’s puzzled looked, he said, “When I was thirteen, a couple of my friends and I broke into a neighbor’s house and stole some booze. On the way out, one of the guys pocketed a bunch of old coins that were sitting on the bar—they turned out to be valuable collector’s items. The next morning, the guy with the coins confessed to his mother, who called my grandfather.”
Babe looked appalled. “That is not the kind of thing that would come out of the woodwork to affect your campaign, but Sara’s record—”
Ren interrupted her. “What campaign? My reelection? Mother, you know most judges run unopposed. I think it’s a little premature to worry—”
She broke in, crying. “Your senatorial prospects!”
Ren took a deep breath, struggling for patience. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Armory move into the shadows. “Mother, we’ve been over this many times, although you seem to conveniently tune out my feelings on the matter. I have no senatorial prospects, and if I did I would sell them to the lowest bidder. I can’t think of anything I’d like less than to be in politics. My current job is more political than I’m comfortable with.”
Babe’s face drained of color, and Ren felt Sara flinch as if she wanted to reach out to comfort the older woman. “But you—”
“No, Mother. You. You’re the one who’s interested in politics. You’re the one who loves the game playing and the power. I don’t want anything to do with it. And if it turns out that Brady is my son and someone has a problem with Sara’s past, then they can have my judgeship, too. It wouldn’t be worth it to me.”
“You can’t mean that,” Babe whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
He ran his free hand through his hair. “Mother, I took this job to make you happy. I knew how upset you were when Dad died. His career was the foundation of your life, and I knew it was important to you to have those political connections. But this was never my dream.”
Babe looked wobbly as if her legs couldn’t support her any longer, and Armory hurried to her side, helping her back to the couch.
Reluctantly, Ren let go of Sara’s hand. He pulled the armchair close to the couch and sat down facing his mother. “I know what day this is, Mother. I know it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too. I remember it clear as a bell.”
She shook her head. “You can’t remember that far back. You were only four.”
“Four-and-a-half.” When Sara’s hand touched his shoulder, he took it. “I can still picture it. The minute I woke up from my nap I knew something was wrong. Becky and Jane were crying. Aunt Elaine and Uncle Frank were talking in low voices. When I asked where you were, Frank said you’d gone in the ambulance with Sunny. I knew ambulances meant hospitals. Hospitals were where you went if you were sick.” Ren didn’t know for sure how much of his memory was real, how much conjecture, but he had a very clear picture of sitting on the step waiting for his mother to return.
“It was almost dark when Dad brought you home. You were crying. I’d never seen you cry before—it scared me. When I reached for you, you pushed my hand away at first, then dropped to your knees and pulled me into your arms. You told me Sunny was gone and I was all you had left.”
Babe hunched forward, her face in her hands.
“I’ve tried to be the person you needed me to be, Mother, but I can’t do it anymore. I need to be my own person.” Gently, he touched her shoulder. Her body seemed small and frail. She’d aged more than he’d realized, more than she let the outside world know. His heart ached, knowing this would hurt her, but deep inside he knew both Sunny and his father would have understood.
“What does that mean?” she asked in a small voice.
“It means I need for you to go home so Sara and I can talk.”
She lifted her chin. “You’re my son, Lawrence. I care about what happens to you.”
“I know. But I’m forty-two years old, Mother. I think it’s time you admitted I can think for myself.” He smiled conciliatorily. “I haven’t done too badly so far, have I?”
Her eyes narrowed as if weighing his question.
“Granted, I should have bought Intel when I had the chance, but other than that…”
Her face softened, her lips turning up slightly. After wiping her tears with a lacy handkerchief she’d had in her pocket, Babe rose. Ren walked her to the door.
“Armory,” Ren said, motioning his old friend to him, “would you please drive Mother home? We’ll get her car over to the condo later.”
He gave his mother a hug. “Good night, mother. I love you and I hope you can trust me to do what’s right—after all, I am a judge.”
Her left brow lifted dryly as she took Armory’s proffered arm. Her ladylike snort seemed to sum up her opinion of both his wit and wisdom.
With a sigh, Ren closed the door. As he returned to the office he glanced toward the kitchen, but since he didn’t hear any sound, he assumed Bo and Claudie had taken off as soon as the fireworks started.
He hesitated at the threshold of his office. Sara was standing beside his desk, one hand hovering above the courier box as if trying to muster the courage to touch it.
His heart constricted in apprehension. This was their moment of truth. Never had Ren felt more empathy for what a defendant must feel awaiting his verdict. What was in that box would determine Ren’s fate: life or an emptiness as hollow as death.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
SARA’S FINGERS SKIMMED over the cardboard box, but she couldn’t make herself pick up the package that would most certainly alter the shape of her future. Turning, she moved to the sofa and sat down, her legs as insubstantial as the craft dough she’d made that morning for Brady.
Her heart pounded in her chest from the turbulent emotions she’d witnessed and felt on Ren’s behalf. If she closed her eyes, she could vividly picture him as a child, waiting on the stoop for his mother to return from the hospital.
Poor Ren, she thought, her heart aching for the little boy who loved his mother so much. Babe had manipulated—maybe unintentionally—many of Ren’s life decisions, and Ren had every right to resent her for it. But he didn’t.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Ren said, plopping down beside her as if drained. He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “That must have been very uncomfortable for you. I’m sorry if my mother hurt you when she said that about your past.”
“She was acting in your best interests. I’d probably do the same thing—only I doubt if Brady would be that understanding.” She sighed. “I don’t think I ever realized what a weighty responsibility the role of parenting is. I don’t know if I’m cut out for it.”
His smile—so kind and endearing—brought her close to tears.
“As a judge, I see a couple of problems with your theory. Number one, it’s too late to back out—you already are a mother. And number two, you’re a wonderful mother. Brady will never resent you.”
Sara pulled her hand free of his and sat forward. Nervously gnawing on a cuticle, she focused on the courier box. “If those test results prove you’re Brady’s father, then you’ll be the one who decides how much say I have in his life. If you’re his father, Ren, you really don’t need me in the picture.” She felt him jerk and quickly went on before he could say something he might later regret. “I mean, you’d have no legal obligation to me other than as Brady’s aunt, and I promise you I won’t fight for custody. I know I said I would, but that was before I found out what a great dad you are. He loves you, Ren, and I wouldn’t want to come between the two of you.”
Sara had tried to keep her tone level and unemotional, so Ren’s low oath took her by surprise. He vaulted to his feet and turned to face her. He seemed incensed.
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bsp; “Did you say I wouldn’t need you?” he repeated, his voice shaking with anger. “Do you mean if that test proves I’m Brady’s biological father, it somehow negates your connection to him? Your love? Everything you’ve done for him?”
“I just don’t want you to feel obligated to make a place for me in your life.”
Swearing under his breath, he threw up his hands. “God Almighty, Sara, don’t you know what you are? Who you are?”
She shook her head, feeling as lost and frightened as she had on those nights when her mother hadn’t come home, and the only thing standing between her and the big scary world was her twelve-year-old sister.
Without warning, he reached out and pulled her to him, saying fiercely, “Sara Carsten, you are Brady’s mother.” He clasped her shoulders and set her back so she could look in his eyes. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t give birth to him. You’ve been there for him every step of the way, and when he’s forty-two and his life is a mess, you’ll still be there for him.”
Fighting tears, she tried to smile. “Yeah, and he’ll probably blame me for it, just like you do your mom.”
Ren shook his head. His tone softened. “Even if Babe is to blame for some of my choices, that doesn’t mean I don’t love her. She’s my mother. She’s haughty and pretentious and can be extremely shallow at times, but she’s also loyal, softhearted and brave—like you.”
A little sound slipped from Sara’s lips. “If your life’s a mess, Ren, it’s probably because of us. If we hadn’t—”
He cut her off with a small shake. “Don’t say it. Don’t even think it. I don’t know what I can say to make you believe me, but until you and Brady came along, I didn’t have a life, Sara. I existed. Period. I had to run away to steal a glimpse of life.”
He lowered his head and said softly, “Weren’t you listening this morning? Or didn’t you believe me?”
Sara’s breath caught in her throat. “I want to believe you, but maybe this isn’t the best thing for—”
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