All We Knew

by Jamie Beck

  When she put it that way, how could he refuse? Not that he’d refuse her much. Besides, he just knew this pregnancy would take, and then this would be a nonissue. Despite her open heart and energy, even Sara couldn’t handle triplets and foster kids.

  His ultimate goal today was to keep her calm and stress-free. “If it’s that important to you, I’ll support you.”

  When her gorgeous smile appeared, the room glowed from its warmth. “Grab your laptop. We can fill out an online application right now.”

  A legitimate excuse to bring his laptop into the bedroom. Maybe she was right about karma. “Be right back.”

  He trotted downstairs to the office, thinking about her request. Sara needed something he couldn’t provide, and something she wasn’t getting elsewhere.

  If being a foster parent could restore their marriage to the stable patterns he’d always counted on, it’d be worth exploring. Maybe it would even alleviate the sense he was failing her in some amorphous way he couldn’t grasp or change.

  Chapter Six

  “How are you feeling?” Colby asked while handing Sara a check to take to the Angel House.

  The distracting sounds of a busy staff moving chairs and prepping for customers drifted through Colby’s open office door. The same open door through which the sweet smell of whatever the pâtissier was baking wafted into the room. If Sara worked here, she’d probably gain ten pounds within two weeks.

  “Better now that I can leave the house.” Sara folded the check and slipped it into her wallet.

  “Any signs or sense of things?” Colby’s hazel eyes reflected hope and love. Although Sara wished her sisters and mother were here with her to share this process, throughout the years Colby had very much become a sister of her heart. Lately her sister-in-law’s happiness shone through her skin like sunlight. Sara remembered feeling that glow herself, back in her early years with Hunter. Perhaps once they started their family, it’d return even stronger.

  “My breasts are sore. My sister Mimi promises that’s a good sign. Still, it’s only been eight days, and it could just be the effect of the progesterone I’m still taking daily. I don’t want to get my hopes up.” A slight shudder ran through her, as if her insides turned cold when she made room for the possibility that she might not be pregnant.

  “I’ll keep my hopes high enough for both of us.” Colby smiled and put the checkbook away before leaning forward. “Why do you want to hand-deliver that check?”

  “I’m meeting with Gloria today to outline things I can do to help some of the women with their interview skills, and how I can also help with the childcare. I’d been hoping Hunter would get involved, too, but he’s been putting me off.”

  “His hands are full at work. Besides, you know how intimidating he can be to strangers. Not sure that’s a great fit. I wish I could go with you.” She finger-combed her light-brown ponytail and then tossed it over her shoulder.

  Sara couldn’t exactly deny Colby’s insight, but she’d been desperate for an activity she and Hunter could do together. “You’re stretched thin enough. I’ve got time to kill. This makes me feel productive and keeps my mind off my own situation.”

  “Just don’t push yourself.” Colby’s shrewd gaze narrowed. “And don’t get too attached to the residents. Those people will be moving on, you know.”

  Given Colby’s warning, Sara kept quiet about the possibility of becoming foster parents. Hunter had completed the paperwork, and the background checks were in process. Still, there were classes, SAFE home inspections, and certifications to complete. “Now you sound suspiciously like Hunter.”

  Colby mock-grimaced with a chuckle, her upward-tilting almond-shaped eyes crinkling at the corners. “On rare occasions, he and I do think alike.”

  They were more similar than either one would admit, although Colby had a softer touch and tendency toward peacekeeping. In a way, those siblings were a bit like Sara and Mimi, with Mimi resembling Hunter’s pragmatism and Sara aligning with Colby’s more accommodating personality.

  “I’ll be fine. Better than fine. I’ve needed something to sink my teeth into since quitting work. It’ll be nice to be useful and help others.”

  “That’s why I’m so grateful Alec came up with the idea for the foundation. I prefer working on it to the restaurant. Thankfully, Alec is happy to oversee most of this place, so it’s working out well for us,” Colby said, gesturing toward the general direction of the dining room.

  “I’ll get out of your hair so you can get back to work, then.” Sara admired Colby’s drive, which resembled Hunter’s. Both of them were rather sober, goal-oriented people, who moved mountains when motivated. They could be inspiring and intimidating at the same time. Sara hadn’t been a slouch, but she also liked to take long walks for no reason, read books for pure pleasure, and sleep in, whenever possible.

  Colby smiled with an extra twinkle in her eye. “See you Monday night at Jenna and Dad’s.”

  “What did you get Gentry for her birthday?”

  “A funky UNOde50 necklace. You?”

  “A spa day at Illume.” Sara slung her purse over her shoulder as she prepared to go. “I thought maybe we could make it a girls’ day.”

  “Nice!”

  “Let’s hope she thinks so. Sometimes she makes me feel ancient even though I’m only eight years older than her.”

  “True, but we’re both eons older emotionally.”

  “Maybe the tide is turning,” Sara said with hope, before she remembered Gentry’s tales from her Napa trip and realized her error. She rose from her chair, keeping that bit of info to herself. “See you Monday.”

  Sara entered the Angel House carrying a shopping bag filled with puzzles, an Alphaberry, and My Own Leaptop: a personal donation to the limited collection of toys on hand for children who temporarily lived there. Of course, she’d had Ty in mind when she’d shopped, especially knowing that she’d be watching him today while his mother went to a support group meeting.

  “The holidays have come early.” Gloria helped Sara wrestle the toys out of their packaging.

  “I hope this is okay,” Sara said, realizing she hadn’t asked Gloria for permission to supply the items. She’d also brought a small lavender-scented air freshener she planned to inconspicuously place in the corner of the living room to offset the home’s depressing antiseptic odor. The homier smell would subliminally lift the residents’ moods. “I assumed that these learning games would be helpful.”

  “It’s very thoughtful. I’m sure Ty will enjoy something new.”

  “Are you still taking Pam and Jolinda to a meeting?”

  “Yes. We’ll return in about an hour. Thank you for watching Ty. These support groups are an important step toward getting the women back on track.” Gloria glanced at her watch. “In fact, I’d better get them moving.”

  She hefted herself up and wandered back toward the bedrooms. Two minutes later, Pam, Jolinda, and Ty were in the living room. Ty stared at Sara and then looked at his little feet. Sara recalled how her niece Daisy had been at two—an exuberant chatterbox, quick to laugh. Unlike Ty, Daisy had a stable home, two affectionate parents, and plenty of stimulation.

  “I’ll take good care of your son, Pam,” Sara ventured, hoping to form some rapport with the woman.

  Without stooping to hug or kiss Ty, Pam simply said, “Be good,” before following Jolinda and Gloria out the door with a brief acknowledgment of Sara.

  She shouldn’t judge, but Sara couldn’t stop herself. If she had a child, she’d smother him with hugs and kisses and undivided attention. She’d savor every giggle, new milestone, and chance for connection. Already she could feel her heart opening to Ty, but he wasn’t hers, and she had to respect that boundary.

  After a bit of research about how to support kids with speech delays, she had formulated a plan. Without pressuring Ty, she crawled across the floor to the new toys. Sitting cross-legged, she said, “I’m playing with this puzzle.”

  Chin tucked, Ty
watched her from beneath his thick lashes. Sara separated all the wooden pieces of the fruit bowl puzzle and arranged them on the floor. Reminding herself that simplistic “self-talk” helped, she said, “I like this red apple.”

  She held up the piece and inspected it before putting it back into the puzzle board, then continued that routine with three more pieces.

  Ty edged closer. His reluctant trust seemed a bigger victory than graduating magna cum laude. Once he was within reach, she extended a piece toward him. “Please help me, Ty.”

  He took the piece from her hand, turning it over in his own. After several seconds, he handed it back to her. Not exactly what she’d been hoping for, but she smiled with enthusiasm.

  “Thank you. I think it goes here.” She settled it into place and immediately handed Ty another piece. “This yellow banana is long. You try.”

  Ty crouched down this time and tried to jam the piece into an empty hole. Before he became overly frustrated, Sara suggested, “Twist it.” She gently turned his hand—his soft skin warming her fingertips—until the piece slipped into place. “Good job, Ty!”

  Unlike with her nieces, her praise didn’t cause him to smile. He didn’t say anything, either. Maybe she was foolish to think she could make a difference, but she wouldn’t quit. Not when there was a chance she could help. And if nothing else, it would be practice for when she became a mom. If she became one, which she’d know within the next week. That thought temporarily disoriented her until Ty’s rummaging in the toy box brought her back to the present.

  For forty-five minutes, she played alongside him, narrating her every move as well as his. Mostly he watched her from a slightly wary distance. Finally, she read The Very Hungry Caterpillar book aloud with as much animation as she could muster.

  Wistfully, she wished Hunter had come with her. No one would guess it, but he read aloud to children with more flair and varying character voices than she could manage. She’d learned that about him when they’d babysat her eldest niece, Caroline, two years ago for Sara’s older sister, Katy, who had dropped her off for a few days on her way to Seattle.

  It had been Sara’s first glimpse of the kind of happy family life she and Hunter would create. Those were the halcyon days, before she’d experienced so much pain, intervention, and failure.

  Ty sat quietly at some distance from her. Might he respond better to a man, or might he cower from Hunter’s intense gaze? In any case, he didn’t come sit beside her to look at the colorful pages, so she held them up for him to see, at which point he stared at them, wide-eyed.

  He had hauntingly pretty gray eyes that, despite their innocence, conveyed the heart of an old soul.

  Just then Gloria and the women returned. Pam was sucking on a lollipop when she stopped and took in the scene on the living room floor.

  Maybe the drugs had destroyed or dulled her personality. Or maybe she didn’t trust strangers. Or maybe the woman was petrified about her uncertain future. Sara had no sense of Pam’s emotions, but she wished Ty had a mom who smiled at him and squeezed him tight.

  She stood and showed Pam the book. “I think he likes this one. My nieces did at his age.”

  Pam paused, then simply said, “Thanks.” Robotically, she waved her son over. “Let’s eat lunch, Ty.”

  Defeated, Sara put away the toys she’d used to draw Ty out of his shell, while Gloria said something or other to Jolinda. Once Jolinda left them alone, Gloria asked, “Did everything go okay?”

  “Of course. Ty didn’t say anything, but I think I engaged him a little bit.”

  Gloria’s face then shifted to the careful concern Sara had seen her exhibit before. “Don’t be discouraged if you don’t see progress. We only have these folks for a short while. We give them understanding and support while we can but must be ready to say goodbye when they go. I see the way you look at that little boy. Watch your heart, dear.”

  “Trust me, this place is good for my heart.” Sara swaddled her shoulders with her lightweight wrap, feeling certain of herself and her mission. She’d been idle too long, and this was a welcome change and distraction from her own worries. “I’ll see you later.”

  “We’re late, Hunter,” Sara sighed as she buckled her seat belt. He could tell from her tone she wasn’t pleased. “What happened?”

  “I was on a conference call with a supplier in China.” He checked the rearview mirror while backing out of the driveway. “Why did we plan a birthday dinner on a Monday night?”

  “Colby’s restaurant is closed Monday nights, that’s why. Believe it or not, your schedule isn’t the only one that matters.”

  “For most of the world, it’s a work night.”

  That earned him a major eye roll. Sara stared straight ahead and muttered, “For most people, the work day ends by six. It’s seven thirty.”

  “Please don’t start on me. Climate change is affecting tea growth in the Yunnan province. We pay more than one hundred dollars per pound for those golden tips, and now they’re going to be more expensive yet possibly yield diluted flavor. I’m sorry if that call conflicted with our social plans, but it’s sort of a big deal for the company. The only upside is that it’s a red flag I can wave in front of Pure Foods.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Colby hinted that she had some announcement tonight. Any idea what it is? Are she and Alec getting engaged already?”

  “No idea.”

  He loved Alec, but this seemed too soon for that commitment. Sure, Hunter had known Sara was the one from their first date, but they’d waited five years to get married. He took commitments seriously, and marriage required love that transcended lust.

  Although Colby and Alec had grown up as neighbors, they’d been dating only a couple of months. After his sister’s recovery from her husband, Mark’s, suicide two years ago, he didn’t want to see her hurt again.

  Sara laid her hand on his thigh. “I know you don’t deal well with change, but whatever they announce, please act happy. Keep your concerns to yourself until we’re alone, okay?”

  He couldn’t argue her point. He hadn’t liked change since his dad packed his bags and walked out twenty-seven years ago. Since then, his first inclination was to equate it with loss. But it went deeper, too.

  Routines and structure allowed him to focus on his goals—to perfect them, whether that meant artfully steering CTC’s finances or racing his bike over the streets of Clackamas County. Unanticipated changes affected his control, and he never enjoyed a loss of control.

  “I’ll be the picture of enthusiasm,” he promised.

  They pulled up to his father’s house. The imposing structure reflected Jenna’s tastes: formal, fancy, overblown. He didn’t like it any more than he liked her. He never looked forward to spending much time with her, but tonight he wasn’t even eager to visit with his dad. Since their meeting about the sale, they’d restricted their conversations to those of a need-to-know basis at work.

  He hadn’t told Sara about his argument with his father. She didn’t need to be upset while they awaited the results of the embryo transfer. Those potential babies came before everything for her.

  He also didn’t dump it on Colby because he didn’t want to put her in the middle. Sadly, the only person whom he could talk to lately was Bethany. He hadn’t said much, given that he wasn’t prone to sharing intimate family details with outsiders, but he’d needed to vent to someone. Bethany always understood what CTC meant to him.

  Now that Pure Foods had started its investigation and signed a nondisclosure agreement covering the duration of the due diligence period, he and Bethany had a ticking clock hanging over their heads. He needed a solution, but pondering his options would need to wait a few hours.

  He followed Sara up the front walk, past the perfectly manicured garden beds, and entered the house. The rest of the family had gathered in the massive kitchen. The one Jenna had remodeled twice even though she never cooked. Hunter glanced at his father and nodded hello, wondering if anyone noticed the awkward distance be
tween them, or if his father even cared.

  Hunter blamed Jenna, of course. Once again, she’d come between him and his dad. It hurt almost as much as it had the first time. How humbling to admit that the little boy inside was still waiting for his dad to make the first move to bridge the gap now.

  “Nice of you to join us,” Jenna quipped, her chin slightly raised. She’d been sexy when younger, and Hunter couldn’t deny she looked good for fifty-four. Tonight she wore a fitted dress and high heels. She’d pulled her red hair into a tight bun, which enhanced her harsh appearance. In truth, though, nothing about her appealed to him. “Dinner is likely ruined.”

  “Chill, Mom. It’s not like you slaved all day cooking. Take-out enchiladas can’t be ruined by a warming drawer.” Gentry handed Hunter a beer with a slice of lime and winked.

  “Sorry, Jenna,” Sara said, smoothing things over like always. She set a small gift bag on the marble-topped island, making him realize he’d never even asked what they’d bought his sister. He should remember to thank his wife later. “Can I help get things to the table?”

  While Sara helped Jenna, Hunter kissed Gentry on the forehead. “Happy birthday.”

  “Go ahead, say it. I know you’re thinking something about my being a year closer to thirty and still being a drifter.” She raised her own beer to her lips, revealing the vine tattoo scrolled around her left forearm.

  “Actually, I’m told you’re taking to your part-time position with Colby. Maybe you’ve found your calling.” He aimed for compliments because he didn’t like the idea that he hadn’t been as good of a brother to her as he’d always been to Colby. While some reasons for the disparity weren’t his fault, others were. He could do better. He would do better.