by Ginna Gray
"Don't say that. Please don't say that," she begged. "You don't have to make a sacrifice like that. There are other ways of breaking the cycle. There are support groups for children of abuse that teach parenting skills. You could also get counseling to help you work through what happened."
"No. I can't risk it. There's no guarantee either would work."
She leaned back and held his face between her hands, tipping his head up until she found his gaze. "Oh, my love," she said with aching tenderness. "There are no guarantees in life. You know that. But isn't it worth a try if it means we can be together? That we can raise our child together?" She stroked the silver hairs at his temple, rubbed her thumb over one wiry eyebrow, the hollow beneath his cheekbone, her eyes pleading with him all the while. "I know you, Dirk Matheson. Not for a moment do I believe that you would ever harm a child. It's just not in you. But if you're worried about it, I'll be happy to go to the therapy sessions with you."
Hesitating, he stared at her. She could see the struggle going on inside him, the hope and longing, and she took heart. "Please, Dirk. Won't you give it a try? For us?" she prodded.
"What if it doesn't work?"
"What if it does?" she shot back. "Prevention is always the best cure, isn't it? If there's a problem, we'll head it off now, before the baby comes."
He searched her face, his own filled with wonder. "You'd really take a chance on me? After all I've told you?"
"Of course. I love you," she said simply. "And I love our baby. You will, too, if you'll just give yourself the chance. Please, my love, promise me you'll stay. I need you, Dirk." She took his hand and placed it against her flat tummy. "Our child needs you. Whatever it takes, we'll work this out together, my darling."
He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. A shudder shook his big frame. Finally, he opened his eyes. Looking as though he were steeling himself to walk through hell, he nodded. "All right. I can't promise anything, you understand … but … I'll give it a try."
Relief cascaded through Alissa like water spilling over a dam. She cradled his head in her arms again and pressed his face against her breasts, stroking his hair, his neck, his shoulders. Dirk's warm breath filtered through her blouse and lacy bra, caressing her skin. His scent rose to fill her nostrils, warm and musky and wonderfully familiar.
"I thought you'd be revolted," he murmured against her breasts. "That maybe you'd want to get as far away from me as you could."
"Oh, really?" A slow smile spread over her face, and her eyes became heavy-lidded and sultry. She stepped back, slowly sliding her hands down over his arms until she grasped his hands. Still backing up, she tugged him out of the chair and toward the door. "Come with me."
"Where're we going?" he asked, looking confused.
"To bed. I'm going to show you just exactly how far I want to be from you."
His confusion turned to bemusement as she towed him down the hall and into their bedroom, but when she stopped beside the bed and began to unbutton his shirt, he frowned. "Is this all right?"
She chuckled and nuzzled her nose in the hair on his chest. He flinched and groaned when she nipped him gently. Not until she slid her hands inside his shorts was he aware that she had released his belt and zipper. "Of course it's all right," she murmured against his abdomen as she bent to push the garments down. "We are married, you know."
"No, I mean… Ah, sweetheart, that's … that's… Ahhhh…"
So distracted was Dirk by his wife's seduction, he completely lost his train of thought. Not until she had stripped him naked and was in the act of taking off her own clothes did he remember his concern.
"What I meant was, is this safe for you?"
Alissa shucked out of her panties, her last article of clothing, and straightened. Grinning, she stepped close, and before Dirk realized her intent she gave him a push that sent him sprawling on his back on the mattress. "Of course it's safe," she purred, wriggling atop him. "I'm perfectly healthy. Now will you stop talking and make love to me?"
Despite Alissa's playful aggression, Dirk took care with her, reining in his own need and handling her with exquisite gentleness, refusing to let her exert herself too much.
Alissa was touched by his concern, though she tried to convince him there was no reason to treat her like fragile glass.
Her protests made no difference. Each time he made love to her after that, it was with a tenderness and gentle intensity that stole her breath away and warmed her to her soul.
That sunlit afternoon of passion marked a change, not only in their relationship, but in Dirk. As he slowly accepted the possibility that he could conquer his demons and actually be a good parent, he began to loosen up and shed that taut air of mystery and remoteness.
As though his confession to Alissa had opened a floodgate, he began to tell her things about his past that he'd never revealed to a soul. He shared his feelings and fears, all his secret longings and dreams.
He told her how scared he'd been of his brutal parents, how miserably alone and worthless he'd felt, how terrifying it had been, trying to survive on the mean streets of Houston. How, a few times, he'd even resorted to shoplifting just to eat.
Alissa listened to it all with compassion and a wrenching heart. It hurt to know that he had endured such hardships, but she sensed his need to talk about it, and at night, as they lay in the darkness, she held him while it all poured out—or at least a censored version that he deemed acceptable for her ears. Alissa sensed that there was a great deal more that he wasn't telling her.
When she thought of the strength and the determination, the sheer grit, it must have taken to pull himself up out of the gutter as he had, she was so proud of him she could burst. When she thought of the Herculean effort it must have taken to overcome the poor self-image instilled by his parents and turn himself into the strong, determined, self-confident man that he was, she was awed.
The same day that Dirk made the decision to give parenthood a chance, Alissa located a psychologist by the name of Edward Houghton who specialized in abuse cases and came highly recommended.
At first, Dirk approached the counseling with wary skepticism and his usual reserve, but through it all, Alissa sat beside him, holding his hand and giving silent encouragement. After a few sessions, Dr. Houghton, while understanding Dirk's apprehensions about fatherhood, expressed confidence that, with help, he could alter the pattern set in his childhood and become a loving and competent father.
"The very fact that you are concerned about repeating the mistakes your parents made is half the battle," the doctor assured him. "Violent behavior such as you've described is definitely passed on from one generation to the next. In order to break a destructive cycle, you must first recognize its existence, or at least that the potential is there, and second, you must want to break the pattern. It's obvious that you do both."
Dr. Houghton glanced at Alissa and smiled kindly. "In addition, you have the added motivation of a child on the way and the support of your wife. I see no reason why you won't make an excellent father. Probably a better one than most men, precisely because you are so concerned."
Though he was still uneasy, the doctor's words gave Dirk enough hope to look forward with cautious optimism.
He and Alissa met with Dr. Houghton three times a week, and once a week Dirk had a private session. Gradually he began to relax and talk freely with the therapist. Day by day, Alissa could see the tautness that had always seemed so much a part of him begin to fall away.
Now that he was coming to terms with impending fatherhood, he was fascinated by Alissa's pregnancy. He read everything he could find on the subject, particularly anything to do with older first-time mothers.
Alissa could not have asked for a more considerate and loving husband. He doted on her. During the first few months, when she suffered bouts of morning sickness, Dirk was certain that something was terribly wrong; no one could possibly be that sick unless she was dying, regardless of Dr. Stevens's assurances otherwise, and he pestere
d the poor woman constantly.
Dirk was sympathetic and solicitous, holding Alissa's head whenever she retched and afterward bathing her face with a cool cloth and murmuring comforting words.
He fussed over her constantly, insisting that she put up her feet every half hour or so. If Alissa had the slightest twinge, he jumped and telephoned Dr. Stevens. He also insisted on accompanying Alissa every other week when she went for her checkups, and invariably afterward he bombarded the doctor with questions.
At the beginning of her fifth month, Dirk came home unexpectedly in the middle of a workday and found Alissa on her hands and knees, cleaning out a closet. The instant Dirk saw her, he hooked his hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet.
"The housekeeper is supposed to do that," he scolded.
"Mrs. Appleton comes twice a week to do the heavy work. She isn't here long enough to tackle jobs like this."
"Well, that cuts it. I'm hiring a full-time housekeeper this afternoon. I should have done that as soon as we married. Mrs. Appleton was fine when it was just me, but it's different now."
"For heaven's sake, Dirk, I was just doing a bit of straightening and sorting. A little light work won't kill me, you know. Most pregnant women do all their own housework right up to delivery."
"You are not most women. I'm hiring a full-time housekeeper no matter what you say. If Mrs. Appleton can't do the job, then I'll find someone else. I don't want you exerting yourself."
He wouldn't budge on the matter, and the next day Mrs. Appleton began working full-time. Alissa had a sneaking suspicion that the woman had received orders from Dirk to keep a close eye on her. She couldn't turn around without bumping into the housekeeper.
As the months passed, Dirk seemed more relaxed and happier than Alissa had ever seen him. His sessions with Dr. Houghton were going well, her pregnancy was progressing with no complications, and she was glowing with good health. Dirk had even begun to feel hopeful about their future.
According to her friends, the staff at Tex-Con noticed the change in him, as well. Not that he was any less arrogant or forceful. He still snapped orders and demanded the very best from every employee and would not tolerate incompetence. However, he did smile more and was more open with other people. There was a spring in his step and a gleam in his eyes that most had never seen.
Alissa's friends couldn't believe the change in him. Margo, in particular, was amazed. "Who would have thought that an intense, sexy hunk like Dirk Matheson would take to marriage and impending fatherhood the way he has?" she commented one day during their weekly lunches.
"Well, it obviously agrees with him," Dorothy said.
"Boy, I'll say," Jolene agreed. "Today, I actually heard him laugh out loud. I didn't even know he could laugh."
Alissa chuckled. "Oh, come on, now. Dirk wasn't that bad."
"Well, I think it's romantic," Annie declared in a challenging voice.
"You would," Margo drawled. Then she sighed, and her sardonic expression softened. "But for once, kiddo, I have to agree with you."
Dirk desperately wanted the therapy to succeed, and he was a cooperative patient, no matter how painful or gut-wrenching the sessions became. The only time he balked was when Dr. Houghton suggested that he reestablish contact with his brother and sister. "No. No way. Forget it."
"Dirk, I understand how you feel," Dr. Houghton said sympathetically. "And believe me, if I didn't think it was important, I wouldn't ask this of you. This is unfinished business that you need to get out of the way before you can move on. I strongly urge you to reconsider."
It took both Dr. Houghton and Alissa months to convince Dirk, but finally, reluctantly, he agreed. Even so, he put off the trip to Dallas several times. However, toward the end of Alissa's second trimester, Dr. Stevens issued orders that she was not to travel during the last two months. Even their weekends in Brenham were out. Since Dirk wanted Alissa with him when the meeting took place, he could delay no longer.
Alissa thought they should try to contact his siblings by telephone first, but he wouldn't hear of it.
"If they have advance warning, they may refuse to see me. Or else they'll have a convenient excuse ready when I get there. If I have to do this, it's going to be on my terms."
It took a detective less than forty-eight hours to locate Dirk's siblings. Both were married and living within a few blocks of one another in a pleasant, upscale Dallas suburb.
On a cold day in December, Alissa and Dirk flew to Dallas, rented a car and drove to one of the addresses the detective had given them.
"Nice to see that they've done well for themselves," Dirk said with undisguised bitterness as he rang his sister's doorbell, looking around at the two story brick homes lining the block.
"Darling," Alissa laid a hand on his arm and studied him worriedly. "Remember, you're suppose to keep an open mind."
The door opened, and his head snapped around.
"Yes? May I help you?"
The woman was taller than Alissa and in her mid-forties. Her thin face was lined and her hair was tinted a dark auburn, but she had Dirk's pale eyes. They glanced curiously between Dirk and Alissa's ripening figure.
"Hello, Jennifer."
The woman's eyebrows rose slightly. "Do I know you?"
"You should. I'm your brother."
Shock widened her eyes. "Dirk! Oh, my God! It is you!"
Giving a glad cry, she surged forward with her arms outstretched and flung them around him. Dirk stiffened and clenched his jaw. He suffered the embrace only seconds before peeling the woman's arms away and setting her from him.
"I'm not here for a happy family reunion, Jennifer."
Her face fell as she looked at his stony expression, and she backed away a step. Guilt flickered in her eyes, and her gaze fell. "I—I see. Uh…" She gestured behind her. "Perhaps we'd better go inside."
"Yes. I don't think you want to have this meeting on the front doorstep."
Inside, the woman led them into the den and invited them to sit. On an end table beside the sofa were pictures of three young people, each wearing a cap and gown and beaming at the camera. "My children," Jennifer said nervously, seeing Dirk staring at the photos. "Paul and Lydia are twins. Jason is the youngest. They all graduated from Texas Tech. Of course, they're all grown and married now and spread all over the state. Two of them even have children of their own."
Dirk looked at her without expression.
She shifted nervously and twisted her hands together. Her gaze darted to Alissa. "Is … is this your wife?"
He made the introduction, and Alissa responded cordially, hoping to ease the tension, but it was a wasted effort.
"Uh … I should call Scott. He'll be anxious to see you."
"Will he?" Dirk's mouth twisted. "Fine. Why don't you do that? It'll be easier and quicker if I only have to do this once."
Looking pale and shaken, Jennifer went to the telephone on a table across the room and punched out a number. She turned her back and spoke softly into the receiver. Neither Dirk nor Alissa could hear what she was saying, but within ten minutes the front door opened and a big man in his late forties with a shock of gray hair barreled into the room.
He skidded to a halt in the middle of the floor and stared at Dirk, a look of hope and desperation on his face. "It is you. Thank God," he said with abject relief. "When you didn't come back, we thought you were dead."
He started forward with his hands outstretched, but his sister must have warned him on the telephone. Either that, or Dirk's cold stare did. He halted and let his arms fall to his sides and looked to their sister for assistance.
In a too-bright, strained voice Jennifer introduced Alissa, but after a brief exchange the taut silence returned.
"I can't tell you how good it is to see you, Dirk," Scott said as his gaze went helplessly to his brother once again.
"Yeah, right." Dirk shook his head. "Look, why don't we just cut the chitchat? As I'm sure Jennifer told you, I didn't come here for a famil
y reunion."
"Yes. I can see that you're angry." Scott sighed and sat down in a chair opposite the sofa, his shoulders slumping. "Hell, I don't blame you. In your place, I'm not sure I could stomach the sight of us."
"Why? That's all I want to know. Why did you let them get by with it? Why didn't you do something?"
"I've asked myself that a million times." Scott glanced at Jennifer. "We both have. At the time, I tried not to think about it, but now I realize we were cowards. I'm ashamed to admit it, but we were afraid that if you were taken out of the house, Mom and Dad would turn their hatred on us."
"So you sacrificed me instead. Thanks a lot."
"I'm sorry. I can't tell you how sorry I am. We both are. For as long as I can remember, guilt for what my cowardice did to you has been eating me up inside."
Jennifer covered her face with her hands and began to weep. The sound was more than Scott could take, and his face crumpled, too.
Stunned, Dirk stared as tears streamed down his older brother's cheeks and great, racking sobs shook his big body. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Scott cried. "I'd … I'd do anything to g-go back and ha-have a cha—a chance to make it up to you. If … if I had done things differently, my son would be … would be whole today."
"What does that mean?" Dirk demanded, but Scott was too broken up to speak.
Struggling to control herself, Jennifer drew several hitching breaths and dabbed at her eyes. "Af-after you left, everything was fine for a wh-while," she stammered. "Then Scott married Bonnie and they had a son. He … he looks a lot like you, and … and Dad hated him. When Damon was three, Dad beat him so badly he injured his spine. Damon—" She turned away and battled fresh tears.
When she had control of herself again, she gazed sorrowfully at Dirk. "Damon has been confined to a wheelchair ever since. He'll never walk again."
"Dammit to hell!" Dirk shot up off the sofa and stalked to the window. He stared out for a long time, shaking with rage. Behind him, his brother and sister sobbed quietly and Alissa sat shaken and battling tears of her own. Finally Dirk whirled back. "What happened to the old man?"