He chuckled. "No grass growing under her feet."
They had talked a few more minutes, reassuring each other the days ahead would become easier. Addie hadn't slept well for the past three nights.
Now she set down the chalk and faced her first group of students with a smile. However, by the time the final block filed into her classroom, her nerves hummed like a hive of stressed bees.
Becky slipped into a desk at the back, her eyes glued on her books and binder as if she were gleaning spellbinding artifacts. A navy hoodie was pulled over her dark hair.
Addie began the lesson, reviewing the concept of decimal fractions and keeping the students on task by circulating the room, asking questions, noting answers and demanding tidy work.
She passed Becky's desk several times, and saw her daughter grasped the concept eagerly and wrote in a clean, precise hand.
On her last rotation around the room, she brushed the girl's shoulder, and whispered, "Excellent work," as she would to any student.
When the final bell rang, kids scrambled with homework and binders and pushed out the door into the hallway.
Packing up her work, Becky lingered. The hoodie had slipped from her hair as she lifted her knapsack onto her shoulder and gazed across the empty desks.
Addie tried to smile. "You like math."
Becky remained by her desk, unmoving. "How do you know?"
Because I loved it. "Because you were the first to remember the concept. And you're meticulous in your work."
The girl raised her chin. "My mom taught me that working neatly causes less errors."
My mom. Hedy. The barb struck hard. The child was determined to make a point. Addie's smile felt brittle. "Then we think alike."
Becky moved up between the rows. "No," she said, when she reached the front desk. "You don't think alike at all. She wanted me. You didn't." She turned and walked out of the room.
Lee called at four-thirty and said not to bother with supper, that she would be there in an hour with a chicken potpie. Before Addie could say a word the phone hummed. No sense in calling Lee back and telling her to forget it. Addie knew. The potpie was a ruse to discuss what her mother and sisters had no doubt burned up the phone lines about all weekend.
True to her word Lee arrived at five-thirty, impeccably attired as always, in a pair of trim black slacks and print top. Hugs, kisses and a discussion of Barbies were exchanged between Aunty Lee and Michaela before the girl returned to the living room where blankets, books and cushions were set up in tent fashion between chairs, sofa and coffee table.
Carrying the potpie, Addie led Lee into the kitchen.
"That's still hot." Her sister nodded to the dish. "Put it on the warmer if you're planning to make a salad or whatever."
Addie clicked on the warming burner. "I am." Turning to face her sister, she asked quietly, "Are you here to criticize me about Skip, Lee?"
The older woman cast a glance toward the kitchen doorway. "Hardly. But I can't believe you haven't said a thing to me about Becky, my niece," she whispered. An expression of hurt darkened her green eyes. "Kat's known for days."
"Oh, Lee... Kat guessed." Addie bowed her head and rubbed her forehead. Raising her eyes, she looked squarely at her sister. "I wanted to explain, but so much has happened, I just. ..couldn't get into it all again. You know how Mom is."
"I'm not Mom." Lee walked the ten feet between them. "It hurt, you know. It hurt that you wouldn't trust me with this. You're right, I thought Skip was the scum of the earth, but this, Addie... How could you believe I'd think anything but the best for you?" Tears stood in her eyes.
"How could I not?" Addie's voice squeaked. "You told me once that you planned to make sure Skip never fathered another child, that you'd wait, catch him unawares and then... Lee, you were so fierce about it. I really believed you were biding your time, that you had a bunch of bad-assed guys standing in the wings, waiting for your call." She breathed hard. "You were always so passionate when it came to family."
Lee's shoulders slumped slightly. She drew Addie into a hug. "You dummy. Don't you know I love you? I'd never hurt you, no matter what I said about Skip. I knew you loved him, that you've always loved the guy. Haven't you figured by now that I'm all bark and no bite?"
Addie laughed and wiped her wet eyes. "Well, that's not entirely true. You did slug Dempsey in the jaw when he moved out on me and Michaela."
"And broke my thumb in the process."
Addie took her sister's hand, kissed the crooked thumb in question. "He wasn't worth the pain you endured but, God, I was proud of you." She smiled into Lee's eyes. "You're my avenging angel, know that?"
Frowning, her sister stepped away. "Someone had to be."
Addie sighed. "Meaning Mom wasn't."
Lee snorted. "Have you forgotten what she said when Dempsey left?"
"All too well. He needed time to come to his senses."
"And has the bastard paid any alimony yet?"
"No."
Lee raised a lovely auburn eyebrow. "Want to argue the avenging angel further?"
Addie chuckled. "No, darlin'. But neither do I want you slugging my ex again should he show up in Burnt Bend in the future."
"Just as long as he doesn't come near you or Michaela. Don't ask me why, but somehow I would've preferred Skip over the dud whose name she carries."
Addie tucked her arms against her middle. "Skip may become her father, anyway. He's asked me to marry him."
Lee's smile was slow to evolve. "Well, now. Cancel all I've said about the man."
"Don't get your hopes up." Addie glanced toward the kitchen doorway. "Right now, Becky sees me as the interloper." Suddenly, the burn in her eyes intensified. "Sometimes, I wish...I wish he hadn't come back to the island, Lee. She was so happy with him before all this damn stuff came out of the woodwork."
Her sister cupped her shoulders. "Now you're just talking silly. Kat said Becky has a kind disposition and you know she wouldn't say something like that if she didn't feel it in her bones. Becky will come around. She won't be able to help it because she's just like you. She feels too much."
"Kat said that?"
"No, I'm saying it."
"But you haven't met her yet."
"I know her mother," Lee said, as if that said it all. "Now, let's get supper on the table before all of us evaporate with hunger."
Wednesday after school was football practice. Skip had arranged for Becky to go home with Addie, but the girl refused. She would rather sit through two hours of field practice while the team went through a series of drill circuits than be in Addie's company. Though she hadn't uttered exactly those words, the message was implied just the same.
So there his child sat, a small forlorn figure in her blue jacket, jeans and white sneakers; the coat's hood shielding her head, her nose buried in a book.
Skip frowned. He wasn't sure if she was hiding from him, the team or the world in general. He was, however, aware that in the two days she had attended school she had yet to mention Addie's name. He knew they saw each other in the hallways and in class. Hell, with a total enrollment of 318 and only two floors in the forty-year-old brick building, everyone saw each other at one time or another during the day.
He didn't dare ask how she liked Addie as a teacher. That would open a door he couldn't close, a door no doubt concealing anger and regret. Anger he could understand, but he hated the idea of Becky regretting Addie.
Once more he shot a look at the bleachers, Becky stared back, unsmiling. She didn't wave, didn't acknowledge that across the width of the field he recognized the sorrow in her blue eyes.
Dammit. How long would distress be their shadow? How long before she'd talk to him, really talk and laugh again? They'd come such a damn long way in the past ten months.
Veering his attention back to the team and its quarterback. Skip blew his whistle. Get on with the practice, man. These kids are relying on you.
But so was the girl sitting in the stands. Except with her
, there was no practice, no game.
Only hard-core reality.
Friday evening Becky sat silent in the car while her dad drove toward town where they would have supper at her Grandmother Dalton's house.
Becky was excited and scared. She'd never had a real grandma before. Hedy and Jesse's parents died before she'd been born. Now, not only did she have parents again, she had an aunty and a grandma. Two of each, really—if she counted Addie's mom and other sister in Burnt Bend.
Addie...
Oh, boy. Becky so wanted to talk to her dad and tell him all the things jammed in her head about her math teacher...and biological mother. In class, every time the woman walked past Becky's desk, her heart would pound so hard she was sure her T-shirt moved.
She wished all this confusion would just go away. She couldn't stop thinking about Addie—or about Hedy.
She couldn't stop comparing the two women. She hated that she compared. Hedy was her mother.
But so was Addie. Hard as Becky tried, she could not stop liking her biological mother. Ever since she had shown her the bees and explained how honey got into the stores, she had liked her.
Then there was the nightmare at Ms. O'Brien's place. Like Hedy, Addie had come to her side immediately, calmed her, talked things through so she could fall back asleep. Addie promised to show her how to bake bread to help with her memories of Hedy.
And Michaela. Omigod. A little sister! How cool was that? Becky knew without a doubt she already loved Mick.
The kid was cute and smart and fun. At seven years old she could talk about stuff like the environment and the way kids in Africa were dying of disease and starvation. Which totally blew Becky away. Even her best friend Kirsten hadn't talked about those kinds of issues, and Becky often wished she had, because they were important. But whenever Becky mentioned a TV documentary, Kirsten would whine. Let's not talk about boring stuff.
Sometimes she didn't miss Kirsten at all. And that was kind of scary. Oh, they still e-mailed every day, but in the past few weeks Becky had gotten tired of Kirsten's same old stories about how boring summer was and how stupid the boys were and who was wearing what and who was out of the group she used to hang with.
At Fire High she had hooked up with a couple girls in the "fast" math club Addie organized a couple days ago. At first, Becky hadn't wanted to join, because it would mean seeing Addie after school twice a week in addition to class. But the girls had begged Becky.
You're way smart, Jillian, the girl sitting in the next row said yesterday. And it's only for kids that love math and want more of a challenge. C'mon, it'll be fun. So she'd signed up.
"We're here," her dad said, breaking into her thoughts as he pulled into the treed driveway leading to a brown house with a green roof and a front porch.
A black-and-white dog climbed slowly to its feet and, wagging its feathery tail, ambled down the steps.
"Hey, old girl," her dad greeted the dog when he got out of the car. "Good to see you're still kicking around. Bean, come meet Splashes." He bent to gently scratch the dog's furry chest. "When I was seventeen, she was a little puppy"
"Wow." Becky said, amazed. "That means she's a hundred and twelve in dog years."
The front door opened and a tall, slim woman dressed in black pants and a pink blouse stepped onto the porch. Becky could see where her dad got his dark hair and brown eyes.
"So," she said, waiting for them to come up the stairs. "This is my granddaughter. Hello, dear." She took Becky's hands. Mrs. Dalton's skin was cool, as if she was anxious. Becky relaxed a little. "I'm so glad you're here," Mrs. Dalton said, offering a cheek to her son. "Skip."
"Mom." After kissing the woman's cheek, he set a hand on Becky's shoulder. "Is that roast chicken I smell?"
Mrs. Dalton grinned. "You thought I'd forget your favorite dish?" She winked at Becky. "Come in."
Becky liked Mrs. Dalton. She liked the way the woman moved her long, slender ballerina hands when she talked.
The house was fancy in an old-fashioned way, and both the front and backyards looked like Japanese rock gardens Becky had seen in one of her mom's magazines. No flowers or bees in sight.
After dinner, they sat in wicker chairs on the back deck. The evening was warm and Becky was petting Splashes when Mrs. Dalton said she could call her Miriam. Except it didn't feel right. The woman was her dad's mom and she had wrinkles around her eyes.
"Can I call you Grandma instead?" she asked.
"Sure, dear." Mrs. Dalton smiled at Becky's dad. "Son, could you get us the dessert? It's the apple crisp in the fridge. And we'd like it a la mode."
The second the door closed behind her dad, Mrs. Dalton's smile disappeared. She said, "I wanted a moment alone with you."
Becky's throat suddenly squeezed shut. Was Mrs. Dalton mad?
The woman twirled a diamond ring on her finger. "Every day I thought about you and prayed you were okay." Her eyes went watery. "And now you're here with your daddy. I can barely believe it."
"Me, neither."
"I hope we can get to know each other."
"I want to know everyone." Becky said. In her heart she knew that included Addie.
"And you will," her grandmother said. "Give it time." She smiled a sad smile. "Can you do an old woman a favor?"
Becky shrugged. "Sure."
"Please don't hold the past against your parents."
Beck said nothing. She figured her grandmother meant Addie.
"They were very much in love, you see, and wanted to marry."
That startled Becky. "Then why didn't they?"
Mrs. Dalton's head shook a little. "Let's not dwell on the past, child. It does nothing but eat at your insides."
Petting Splashes, Becky felt her eyes sting. "I had a great mom."
"Yes, darling, you did. and for that I'm indebted." Suddenly she leaned forward and patted Becky's knee. "Listen, would you like to go shopping with me one Saturday after you've settled in with school? Maybe we could get your other grandma to bring little Michaela."
"Really?" The rock on Becky's heart tumbled away.
"Of course." Grandma Dalton smiled. "We'll go to Seattle, shop for some pretty clothes, eat hot-fudge sundaes for lunch and take in a movie. What do you say?"
"Cool. I mean, that would be nice. I never had a sister to shop with. Or a grandma." Becky added shyly.
"Then it's a date. I'll arrange everything."
At that moment Becky's dad returned with three steaming desserts on a tray. As they ate. she listened to Mrs. Dalton tell him about the shopping plans, and watched his eyes fill with happiness.
Wow. Her parents, her real parents, had wanted to marry each other. They'd wanted her after all.
Addie had wanted her.
Becky felt like dancing—and crying. Because of Hedy. Because of the mother she'd loved with all her heart.
She had to set things right, and there was only one way to do it.
Next week couldn't get here fast enough.
Chapter Fourteen
At ten on Saturday morning Charmaine knocked on Addie's front door.
"Mom," she said, surprised. Charmaine always called before driving "out to the country," as she liked to refer to the home Addie had made of her grandparents' place. Both Kat and Lee lived in town, no more than a two-minute drive from each other and Charmaine.
Her mother strode inside. "When were you going to tell me?"
About Becky. First Lee, now their mother. Addie followed Charmaine to the kitchen. "Today, actually."
Charmaine grabbed a mug from the cupboard and helped herself to the coffeepot. "This fresh?"
"Five minutes ago." Addie stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of her hoodie. "If you've come to rant, Mom—"
"'Course I've come to rant. I'm hurt, that's what. You told Kat and Lee and they've known for a week! How could you not tell me that I have another granddaughter?"
"You've always known about your first granddaughter," Addie stated calmly, tamping down her
ire. Charmaine was part of the package that convinced Addie at seventeen to "do what's right."
"I mean, living here, Addie," Charmaine said. "In the same town."
"She lives out of town."
Her mother waved a hand. "Semantics. So why didn't you tell me? By the way, where's Michaela?"
"With Becky."
"Is that her name?" Her mother pursed her lips. "Short for Rebecca? Not sure I like it."
Addie pu shed away from the doorframe, went to pour her own coffee. "Too late. It's the name her mother gave her and I like it."
"You're her mother."
"Semantics. Did you know the name means joined?"
"Joined?" Charmaine frowned. "What's that got to do with anything?"
Addie shook her head. "Nothing." But it did. After Becky revealed the definition of Hedy's name, Addie had looked up Rebecca, and could see why Hedy selected the name. Following years of wanting a baby, she had been joined with one at last.
"So when do I get to see her?" Charmaine wanted to know.
"When I think it's right." Addie checked the five rounds of dough she had set to rise on the counter before breakfast, before Michaela had crept out of bed, sleepy-eyed and wanting a snuggle. Addie smiled at the memory. Her baby. Would the day come when Becky also needed a snuggle?
Charmaine sat at the kitchen table. "Why are you putting me on hold? Kat's already seen her, and so has Lee."
"Lee hasn't. And Kat saw her because she watched the girls when I went to Seattle."
"Oh, yes. About Seattle. I heard you spent the whole day with Skip Dalton. Are you two getting back together for the sake of the girl?"
A headache niggled at the base of Addie's skull. "Her name is Becky, Mom. And, no, we aren't getting back together for her sake. If we do, it'll be because we want to."
Charmaine's eyes narrowed. "So you've discussed it?"
"Mom, this is really none of your business."
"It is when you ignore me over your sisters."
Addie wanted to scream. "I didn't ignore you! I stayed with Kat when a tree fell on my house." Which is now repaired, thank you for asking. "And Michaela asked if Becky could come, as well."
Their Secret Child Page 17