The Secret Heir

by Gina Wilkins

  “Did you work while your children were young?” Laurel couldn’t resist asking.

  “The whole time. My husband and I tried to arrange our schedules so at least one of us was always available for ball games and concerts and teacher conferences, but there were times when work interfered, of course. Our kids had to learn that sometimes we had to take care of our other responsibilities. I think it made them less self-centered, actually. Some kids I see here think the whole world revolves around their pleasure because their folks have spoiled them rotten. And on the other side of the spectrum, others are either abused or neglected by their caretakers. It’s just amazing most people survive childhood relatively sane, isn’t it?”

  Laurel thought of her own basically rudderless upbringing. “I think you’re right.”

  Camilla glanced at Tyler. “Your little boy sure hasn’t caused us any trouble. He’s so well-behaved. He’s lucky to have a loving family around him.”

  Laurel told herself she would remember those words whenever she became too frustrated with Donna. There was no question that it was good for Tyler to have his extended family nearby. Tyler’s needs came first, she vowed. If there were some needs of her own that weren’t being entirely fulfilled… Well, she was used to that. She had learned long ago to be content with what she had.

  After all, she thought, happily-ever-after endings only happened in fairy tales.

  Ten

  Tyler was taken for a physical therapy session Thursday afternoon, which basically consisted of supervised play with other pediatric surgery patients. Having been informed that he would be gone for about half an hour, Laurel decided to pop over to Children’s Connection, just to check in.

  She was halfway down the connecting hallway when she came face to face with Leslie Logan. As elegantly coordinated as always, Leslie stopped in her tracks when she spotted Laurel. “Laurel! How’s little Tyler today?”

  Laurel smiled broadly as she relayed the news she had received only an hour earlier. “We’re taking him home tomorrow.”

  “Oh, my goodness, that’s wonderful! I’m sure you’re counting the minutes. I’ve heard you’ve barely left the hospital during the past week.”

  “As nice as everyone has been to us, I’m more than ready to be home,” Laurel admitted. “Do you know how hard it is to actually get any sleep in a hospital?”

  “I’ve had a few personal experiences. Enough to know I’m in no hurry to be hospitalized again anytime soon.”

  Leslie changed the subject then. “Laurel, I was hoping to speak to you soon, at your convenience, of course. I have a little favor to ask of you.”

  “A favor?” Though surprised that Leslie Logan would need anything from her, she couldn’t imagine turning her down. Leslie had always been so supportive of Children’s Connection, and of Laurel, personally. “Anything. Just name it.”

  Obviously touched by Laurel’s immediate reply, Leslie reached out to lay a perfectly manicured hand on Laurel’s arm. “Actually, I need your services as a social worker. I know you’ve taken a leave of absence, but maybe you could do the preliminary paperwork for one case? The interviews could even take place in your home, if necessary. I know what I’m asking is hardly standard operating procedure, but this is a special case.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Leslie looked around, seemingly to make sure no one was listening. “My daughter, Bridget, and her new husband, Sam, are interested in adopting a baby. I’m not asking you to give them any special preference or to cut any legal corners. They’ll go through procedures, then wait their turn like anyone else. But if you can find the time, I would appreciate if you conduct the early interviews.”

  “Why me?” Laurel asked curiously.

  “Bridget’s a little nervous about the whole process,” Leslie confided with an indulgent laugh that had an oddly false ring to it. “I told her I believe you’re just the person to put both her and Sam at ease about all the red tape and paperwork.”

  “Well, I…”

  “As I said, I know this is completely unorthodox for me to approach you this way, especially at such a stressful time. Please feel free to say no if you don’t think you can do this. I promise I won’t hold it against you,” Leslie promised with a smile that looked strained.

  “Give me a call next week and we’ll discuss a time for a preliminary interview,” Laurel said after only a momentary hesitation. “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

  Leslie squeezed Laurel’s arm in a quick gesture of appreciation before stepping away. “Thank you, Laurel. And please let me know if there’s anything I can do for you during your son’s recuperation.”

  Okay, Laurel thought. Now that was weird. If she hadn’t been so crazy about Leslie, she’d have turned that odd proposition down flat. After all, she was on leave. And Leslie had been right about the request being totally unorthodox.

  Shaking her head in bemusement, she moved on toward her office.

  Jackson entered Tyler’s hospital room late Thursday evening with a combination of guilt and dread. It was almost nine o’clock, and he knew Laurel would be annoyed with him for coming so late. At least she wouldn’t yell at him in front of Tyler; she’d probably “invite” him out of the room to do that.

  Already in defensive mode, he met her eyes the moment he entered the room, though he greeted Tyler first. “Hey, sport. How’d everything go today?”

  “I’m going home,” Tyler announced happily, bouncing on the end of the bed where he’d sat watching television, his penguin and new hamster sitting on either side of him.

  “Are you?” Jackson looked from him back to Laurel again. “When?”

  “Tomorrow,” Laurel said. “Both the surgeon and the pediatrician told me there was no need to keep him here any longer.”

  As he had expected, her voice had just a hint of a chill to it, but there was something else, too. Something that made him suspect she was more disappointed in him than angry. That made him feel even worse than he had before, which, of course, only made him more defensive.

  Jackson swung his son off the bed and into his arms, taking a bit more care than usual as he hugged him. “It will be so good to have you home again.”

  Laurel made a sound deep in her throat, then seemed to swallow whatever she had almost blurted out. Probably something about how Tyler would be home but Jackson probably wouldn’t be.

  “I tried to call you after the doctor left,” she said after a moment, “but your cell phone was off.”

  “I forgot to recharge the battery last night. When I checked it this afternoon it was completely dead. I meant to call you from another phone, but everything was so chaotic today I never had the chance.”

  “I’m sure you thought you were needed where you were.”

  Her prim tone made his jaw set. “Yes, I was needed. I had two men injured this afternoon when a scaffolding collapsed. After they were taken by ambulance from the site, we had to inspect all the rest of the scaffolding and then reconstruct the section that fell.”

  Her expression eased just a bit. “How badly were they injured?”

  “They’ll be okay.” He was the one who sounded stiff now. “Bob Cooper broke his leg, and Howie Young probably has a concussion and some broken ribs.”

  “I’m sorry. Do you know what caused the collapse?”

  “Yeah. Stupid mistakes.”

  “Made while you were here at the hospital, I suppose, and not there to micromanage every detail.”

  “You got it.” He set Tyler back on the bed. “And who do you think will take the blame for it?”

  “Your boss won’t blame you for taking care of your son.”

  “Hmm.” Because he knew his boss better than she did, he didn’t bother to argue. But then he conceded, “I should have called you.”

  Relenting a little, she shrugged. “I can understand why you didn’t. It must have been a terrible afternoon for you.”

  “Hearing that Tyler’s going home makes up fo
r it. Damn, it’ll be good to have him home again.”

  Tyler looked up from the TV to frown repressively at his father. “You don’t supposed to say that word, Daddy.”

  Jackson grinned and ruffled Tyler’s hair. “You’re right, sport. I’m not. Do you think your mommy’s going to make me stand in the time-out corner?”

  Laurel laughed—probably for Tyler’s sake, Jackson thought. “I’ll just give you a warning this time.”

  He moved to sit in the other visitor’s chair. He glanced at the cartoon that seemed to be holding Tyler’s attention as he asked Laurel, “Have my parents already left for the evening?”

  “Yes. Your mother said she had a headache. Carl talked her into going home a little early tonight.”

  Despite the reassurance he’d felt about his mother’s health after his talk with Carl, Jackson began to worry again that she was ill. She’d never been one to suffer from headaches. “I don’t suppose she’s talked to you any more about what’s been bothering her?”

  “To me? Hardly.”

  “Have you tried asking her?”

  “Yes, I’ve tried. She wouldn’t say a word.”

  He could only hope his mother would be back to normal tomorrow, after Tyler was home and safe. Despite the complaints he’d had about his job and his marriage, it seemed that now all he really wanted was for things to go back to the way they were before.

  Maybe a few small things had changed, he thought—or, more accurately, hoped. Maybe he and Laurel had settled a few issues. Maybe they’d been brought a little closer together during this crisis with their son.

  Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw that her face was almost expressionless, her gaze focused on Tyler, her lower lip protruding just slightly, the way it did when she was deep in thought about something. And he realized he didn’t have a clue what she was thinking. Once again, she could have almost been a stranger sitting in the room with him. So maybe they hadn’t solved their problems, after all.

  What was with the women in his life, anyway? How come they were both so distant from him lately? He was almost used to it from Laurel, but his mother had always been forthcoming with him. He’d never had the feeling that she was hiding things from him—until this past week, anyway.

  Was it something he was doing that was driving them away? If so, he sure as hell wished they would tell him what it was, he thought wearily, the stress of a hard day making itself felt in the knotted muscles at the back of his neck. He could use a massage himself.

  Glancing at his wife again, he thought ruefully that there was no hope for help from that direction tonight.

  He stayed a couple of hours, until Tyler was ready to go to sleep for the night. Laurel assured him there was no need for him to remain any longer. “We’ll be fine here for one more night.”

  “You’re sure you don’t need me to stay?” He had offered several times to be the one to spend the night in Tyler’s room and allow Laurel to go home and sleep in her own bed, but she refused even to consider it.

  She nodded to Tyler as the boy gave a huge, noisy yawn. “He won’t be awake much longer. The nurses will be in soon to get him settled for the night and to bring clean sheets for me.”

  “What time will he be released tomorrow?”

  “The doctor said sometime after ten. Camilla told me to expect a lengthy check-out process, since so many patients are released on Friday. It could be several hours of waiting.”

  “I’ll be here to take you home. I’ll run by the site early and be here by ten.”

  “You’re sure you can get away?”

  “To take my son home from the hospital?” It rather annoyed him that she had even asked. “I’ll be here.”

  “All right. I’ll call if anything changes.”

  “Right. I’ll remember to charge the cell phone tonight. Do you need me to bring you anything tomorrow?”

  “I’m good. I still have the extra clean clothes you brought yesterday.”

  “Okay. Then I’ll see you both tomorrow.” He leaned over to kiss his wife, noting that frustrating hesitation in her response again. And then he kissed Tyler, pleased that at least his son held nothing back in his goodnight embrace.

  As he stepped into his dark, empty house a while later, he thought with relief how nice it would be to come home to his family again. Even if they were already asleep, he thought with a self-directed grimace and a vow that he would try not to spend so many nights working when he should be taking time with his son. The son he could so easily have lost, he reminded himself.

  And as he climbed into his empty bed, he wondered how many more nights he would have to sleep in it alone. Would things really be different when Laurel and Tyler came home? His son was being returned to him—but had he already lost his wife?

  Laurel was almost giddy with anticipation Friday morning. She was taking her son home. Every medical professional she had spoken to had assured her that he was recovering phenomenally well from his surgery and had every reason to expect a long, healthy life. Though his activities would be slightly limited for the next two weeks, until his post-surgery checkup, he would be free after that to be as active as any other boy.

  She worried a little about being responsible for his care now, of course. She had come to depend on the nurses and staff who had hovered so protectively over him during the past week. But they had all promised her she had nothing to be troubled about.

  She had memorized the list of instructions but still worried whether she was up to the responsibility. It was that same old demon that had haunted her from the beginning—the one that taunted her with the possibility that she was no more fit to be a mother than her own had been.

  It irritated her that she still fought those groundless fears. A strong, competent woman should be able to rid herself of the baggage from her past, shouldn’t she? Feeling scared and inadequate so much of the time seemed to her to be a sign of weakness. And she didn’t try to place any of the blame for her insecurities on Jackson or Donna. She knew she wouldn’t allow herself to be shaken by their expectations if she had enough confidence in her own capabilities.

  “You’ll be fine, Mrs. Reiss,” Camilla assured her. “You both will,” she added with a smile for Tyler. “But if you have any questions at all, feel free to call any of the nursing staff here, okay?”

  “I’ll do that. Thank you so much.”

  Camilla reached out to give Laurel a quick hug. “Sometimes the parents up here need a little TLC themselves,” she said understandingly.

  Laurel returned the hug warmly. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for us these past few days. I’ll be sure and let the administration know what wonderful nurses they have working this wing.”

  “You do that.” Camilla drew away and turned toward the door. “Well, good morning, Mr. Reiss. Ready to take your boy home?”

  Laurel felt her smile fade a bit as she met Jackson’s eyes. He kept his own firmly in place when he spoke to the nurse. “You bet I am. Is he ready to go yet?”

  “Oh, we still have to finish the paperwork and get the doctor’s signature. You should know our motto by now—everything happens at the doctor’s convenience, not the rest of us. But you can be taking his things out to your car if you’d like. That might save you a little trouble later.”

  Jackson and Laurel spent the next few minutes packing up Tyler’s clothes and toiletries, along with the toys, books and games people had brought to entertain him. He refused to let go of his penguin or his hamster, but he allowed everything else to be packed with the promise that he could play with them again when he was home.

  In addition to his belongings, there were several balloon and flower arrangements sent by friends and co-workers, and the remains of another fruit basket provided by Donna’s neighbors. Jackson had to borrow a wheeled cart from the nurses just to get everything moved to his car, which he’d parked in the deck.

  By the time Jackson returned, Tyler was almost ready to go. Dressed
in a thin red hoodie with jeans and sneakers, he looked so much back to normal that it brought a hard lump to Laurel’s throat.

  She watched as the entire staff from the wing told him goodbye in a cheery ceremony that probably took place several times a day. She knew it must bring joy to the nurses to watch their little charges going home so happy and healthy, when all too often there was a different outcome. She wondered how they were able to deal with losing any of their precious patients. In their place she was afraid she would get too attached. She’d always believed it took a special person to be a nurse, but after the past week, she was sure of it.

  Tyler thoroughly enjoyed the wheelchair ride to the car. Buckled securely into his car seat, he talked incessantly all the way home, which saved Laurel and Jackson the need to make conversation.

  Leaving the baggage to be retrieved later, Jackson carried Tyler into their house on his back, making an elaborate production out of the pony ride. Tyler squealed in delight, holding on to his father’s broad shoulders, happy to be home.

  Carrying an armload of flowers, Laurel hovered close behind, trying not to be overprotective, but mindful of the need to protect Tyler’s incision. She knew Jackson was being careful, but she couldn’t forget the doctor’s warning that Tyler shouldn’t engage in any activities where he could hit his chest. No climbing trees, hanging from jungle gyms, riding his bike, contact sports or wrestling with other children for the next two months, she mentally recited. No limits on stair climbing or regular play, but he should be encouraged to nap if he was tired.

  And there were no limits on pony rides from his daddy, she added, forcing herself to relax. Laughter had to be as good for him as any medicine.