Rachel remembered driving by the last house where she’d lived with her mother and insisting that Mrs. Byers stop. She’d scampered to the door and rung the bell, expecting her mother to appear, and been horrified when an unfamiliar man answered. Despite his kind face, she’d been horribly upset. The poor guy. He hadn’t deserved to find a sobbing, hysterical little girl on his doorstep.
Rachel’s thoughts skipped to the issue at hand. “Should I do anything to prepare for Sunday?”
“Janine’s likely to ask how we met and how long we’ve been dating,” Russ noted. “We’d better get our stories straight.”
Rachel’s brain was already spinning from trying to keep straight what she’d told her various friends. “We should stick as close to the truth as possible. That we met recently and that Lauren’s circumstances influenced our decision to get engaged. Otherwise she might see through us and get mad. She could still change her mind.” The prospect of Lauren’s being handed over to strangers was too painful to consider.
“Well then, I guess we’ve got it covered.” He seemed satisfied to leave the matter at that.
Nothing about what came afterward. No sign of any change in his attitude.
Rachel yearned to press the matter, to marshal her points and hash this out. But Russ stood and, with a brisk good-night, escaped to his bedroom.
She couldn’t bear to lose him this way. Rachel needed advice, and in a flash she recognized where to get it.
LAUNDRY. THAT WAS THE FIRST THING she noticed in the Byers household. In the morning, there was always a basket or two awaiting the washer, and by afternoon a heap of clean clothes and linens stood ready for folding.
Rachel had driven ten miles to visit her mother on Tuesday afternoon because Susan Byers was the wisest woman she knew. After sharing a warm greeting, the two of them instinctively repaired to the living room sofa, where they sat folding garments of various sizes while they talked.
The big coveralls were for Rachel’s dad, Tom, to wear to the garage he owned with twin sons Nick and Nate, who were five years older than she was. They’d bought the shop in Garden Grove seven years ago, at which point Tom and Susan had relocated from Villazon. Nick, who was single, lived with them, while Nate and his family rented a house nearby. The remaining laundry belonged to Rachel’s sister Kathy and two foster siblings, Denzel and Alicia, who wouldn’t return from school for several hours.
“I wondered why we’d heard so little from you these past couple of weeks.” Susan unsnarled the Velcro fastenings on a blouse. The material made it easier for Kathy’s palsy-stiffened hands to manipulate.
“Didn’t want to lie,” admitted Rachel, who’d just finished outlining her predicament.
To her relief, her mother refrained from pointing out that she shouldn’t have lied in the first place. She grasped that the consequences for Lauren would have been too dire.
“Are you sure this man shares your feelings?” At sixty-two, Susan’s face showed remarkably few wrinkles, in part because of the weight she’d gained from heavy-duty cooking and baking. The local kids loved to hang out here, enjoying the cookies, jovial atmosphere and tolerant approach to mess.
“He’s practically said so.” Lint, plucked from a towel, flew into a small wastebasket on the floor.
“‘Practically’? Pardon me for pointing out that you aren’t the most objective person to make such an interpretation.” Deftly, her mom rolled a pair of socks without even glancing at them. She must have dispatched thousands over the years.
“He’s afraid I’ll die. That shows he’s not indifferent, right?” Rachel persisted.
“There’s a big gap between ‘not indifferent’ and ‘madly in love.’” Heading off an objection, Susan continued, “And that isn’t the only issue. From what you’ve told me about his parents and his upbringing, you two make an odd couple.”
The sleeves on a kid-size T-shirt resisted Rachel’s attempt to pull them right side out. Taming them required three attempts, much to her annoyance. “That’s why we’re good for each other. With me, he can have fun and talk things over. And with him…” She hesitated before admitting, “I feel like a woman instead of his buddy.”
“You are a woman, and a beautiful one,” Susan returned. “I’d love to see you settled with the right guy.”
After placing the T-shirt aside, Rachel leaned forward eagerly. “So how do I bring him around?”
“The only thing that can do that is time,” her mother answered.
Not a helpful answer. “Time’s against me. My condo’ll be fixed anyday now. As soon as Russ gains custody, out I go. Except for visiting Lauren, I won’t even have an excuse to drop by.”
Gently Susan cupped one hand over the fists that had formed in her daughter’s lap. “Listen to yourself, honey.”
“Listen to myself how?” she demanded.
“If this man were in love, he’d find excuses to see you.” Sympathy softened the conviction in her mother’s words. “Obviously, you mean a lot to this doctor, but not the way you hope. He’s made his position clear. You have to cut him loose, Rache. Mourn the loss and move on.”
She’d sought encouragement, not an agonizing truth. Tears clouded Rachel’s vision. Man, this hurt worse than getting dragged across the pavement while trying to stop a hit-and-run motorist, which had happened a couple of years ago. The abrasions had stung for weeks, though not as long as the guy’s penalty had burned him.
A lump clogged Rachel’s throat. She indulged in one last wistful fantasy: Russ, his slate-blue eyes shining, leaned above her on his bed, whispering how much she meant to him. He loved her. So did Lauren.
“She insisted on a haircut exactly like mine!” Rachel burst out.
“We’re talking about his daughter?” Getting to her feet, Susan gripped the edge of a sheet. Automatically, Rachel located the other end and stood facing her mom as they brought the pieces together. “You’ll have a better chance of staying close to her if you don’t pressure her father.”
She longed to argue. But she couldn’t. Rachel probably had misconstrued Russ’s behavior. She’d warned herself about the danger of jumping in, but nevertheless she had. Heart-first.
She’d dreamed for so long about falling in love. In her naiveté, she hadn’t paid attention to those old songs about loving and losing, because she’d figured she’d never be fool enough to tumble for someone who didn’t love her in return. But she had.
He’d asked to remain friends. That ought to be her goal, too. Friends for Lauren’s sake.
“Guess I learned my lesson,” Rachel said shakily.
“You’re a terrific person. You deserve a man who’s so crazy in love he’ll consider himself lucky to be in the same room with you,” her mom added loyally.
She’d been so certain that Russ cared. Rachel wondered if she’d ever develop enough judgment to tell the difference. “I think I’ll wait awhile before I try again.”
“I’m sorry, dear.” Susan glanced up as a figure entered jerkily from the hallway. “Oh, hey, here’s our scholar.”
“Hi, big sis,” came the familiar greeting.
At twenty-two, Kathy had defied predictions that she’d never learn to walk. Her movements might require the aid of a brace and a crutch, but her freckled face and welcoming smile made her instantly lovable.
Rachel went to hug her sister, careful not to upset her balance. The reminder of how hard Kathy worked for accomplishments that most people took for granted put other problems into perspective.
“I can’t wait for graduation day!” Rachel took pride in Kathy’s intelligence and hard work. “Four more months.”
“With honors! Did I tell you?” The speech emerged slurred because of the stiffness in her jaw.
“That’s better than I did,” Rachel admitted.
She was glad to leave the subject of her ill-fated love life, and for the next few minutes the three women happily discussed plans for the Cal State Fullerton graduation ceremony and a big party afterward. Th
is marked a true commencement rather than a conclusion, because Kathy intended to earn a master’s degree in psychology and, ultimately, to counsel the handicapped.
When Rachel reluctantly excused herself to drive home, Kathy escorted her to the door while Susan answered a phone call. “Heard what you said earlier.” Their discussion must have carried into the bedroom where she’d been studying. “Too bad. Doctor sounds nice.”
More than nice. Special. Sexy. Afraid to mention those attributes, Rachel replied, “He’s a good father.”
“But stupid!” Kathy finished. They both laughed.
Outside, Rachel gazed longingly around at the working-class houses with patchy lawns, overgrown camellias, budding rosebushes and a scattering of toys. Maybe someday she’d share a place like those with a husband.
But not with Russ. The recognition that she’d lost him—or perhaps never really had him—twisted in her gut.
Right now, Rachel didn’t feel at all like a tough cop. She felt like a woman who’d just had her heart broken.
Chapter Fifteen
Russ wasn’t sure how to interpret Rachel’s behavior. On Sunday night, she’d come on strong, yet ever since, she’d reverted to the casually friendly attitude of their first few days.
Once or twice he caught something he couldn’t interpret in her body language. A kind of pulling away, a flash of hurt. But she recovered so smoothly that he figured he must be mistaken.
In many respects he welcomed the change. Dinner-table dialogue resumed its lighthearted tone, and on Thursday she sketched a humorous picture of the ruckus created by the local weekly. The chief had stomped around all day, furious at the way the paper treated Vince Borrego as front-page news and recapped his problems.
“He claims Villazon must be the most boring place on earth if the editor can’t find anything more important to report than that,” she relayed. “As if folks didn’t always love a juicy scandal!”
Thank goodness there’d been no further sightings of the prowler. Russ’s muscles still jerked at the memory of that gunshot. He tried not to think about the fact that, each day, Rachel sallied forth in her patrol car on missions potentially just as dangerous.
Preparing for Sunday pushed everything else to the background. Lauren grew overly excited ever since he’d told her about the meeting. Despite his warning that her old house was empty and about to be leased, she chattered eagerly about seeing it again and insisted on carting most of her dolls and toys in the car.
He understood that she feared leaving them behind, because at some level she imagined she might resume her former life. However, he was about to put his foot down when Rachel suggested they arrange the toys inside the car and leave them there when they arrived.
“I’m sure they’ll enjoy the view out the window, Lauren,” she said, her tone serious. “They don’t need to go indoors.”
Lauren agreed, clearly desperate for his consent, so Russ yielded.
“I draw the line at holding Officer Bud on my lap while I drive,” he teased, and was rewarded by his daughter’s giggle.
On Sunday Rachel returned from work nearly two hours late. Although they didn’t have to leave for another hour, Russ’s blood pressure rose with the worry that she might be lying in the street or en route to a hospital.
He was fixing dinner shortly after five when she strolled in. He popped a plate of hot dogs into the microwave oven before asking, “What kept you?”
“Robbery attempt.” Without missing a beat, she added a bottle of ketchup to the condiments on the table. “A customer recognized a robber we call Baldy outside a pharmacy and called in. He must have seen her, because he fled.”
“Anyone hurt?” A salad and a bag of banana chips completed the meal.
“Nope,” she said. “Can you believe three people saw him and nobody can describe his car, let alone recall a plate number? Frustrating!”
Russ hoped the sighting frightened the crook into leaving town. There’d be other crooks, though. And abusive husbands, gang members, drunk drivers with a grudge against cops…. Maybe he took the situation so hard because, as an intern, he’d worked a rotation in the emergency room and seen the damage. To him the possibilities weren’t merely abstract.
He was about to call Lauren to dinner when Rachel added, “By the way, my condo association e-mailed.”
Russ preferred that his daughter not hear this. He didn’t dare reveal the cancellation of their engagement, not before the meeting with Janine. “About when you can move back?”
“Would you believe, the place is almost ready.” Her tense body belied her casual tone. “If all goes well with your ex, we can…I can—” she breathed in and out deeply before concluding “—vacate next weekend.”
A knot formed in his chest. The return to her condo hardly represented a shock, of course. And they’d already agreed that after her departure Rachel should continue to pick up Lauren from day care and join them for dinner several nights a week. If he were lucky, she might stick around for games as well. Friends, as he’d requested.
But the prospect of her absence churned in Russ’s gut. He’d grown accustomed to discussing the day’s events and sharing jokes. At night her presence filled the house with quiet comfort.
The pounding of little feet broke his trance. Lauren flew in, crying, “Rachel! Come see my toys! We loaded the car already.”
“Okay, but then let’s eat. I’m starving.” She let the little girl whisk her out to the garage.
Russ busied himself pouring drinks. His daughter’s future depended on making a good impression tonight, and walking around with a scowl on his face wasn’t going to accomplish that.
After dinner, the drive to Los Angeles passed smoothly. The three of them sang camp songs to which he was surprised to find he remembered the words. The devastation of losing his grandfather’s toy soldiers had overshadowed that summer so completely that, until now, he’d forgotten there’d been enjoyable experiences as well.
The former home of Joan and Jerome Holt sat on a block of 1920s and ’30s-era homes west of downtown L.A. Russ had assumed that the senior couple owned a large house, perhaps because Janine gave the impression of hailing from the upper crust. However, her directions brought them to a modest white stucco structure. Its only distinctions were an arched doorway and two bird-of-paradise plants flanking the front steps.
Lauren unfastened her booster seat the moment the engine stopped. “Grandma! Grandpa!” She struggled to unlatch the door.
“Honey, they’re not here.” Rachel exited to help her out. “We’re going to see Janine.”
The child grabbed Officer Bud. “Please, can I bring my doll? Just this one?”
“All right.” Russ eyed the expensive, late-model sedan parked in front of them. A safe guess it belonged to his ex-girlfriend.
The situation called for tact and charm, but at the moment he wasn’t certain he could form a coherent sentence. And if Lauren started sobbing because her grandparents were missing, Janine might assume the child was miserable living with him.
He doubted she had any desire to go in search of an adoptive family as originally planned. Nevertheless, his brief encounter with her two weeks ago had reinforced his impression of his ex-girlfriend as high-strung and therefore unpredictable.
A For Rent sign in the yard drew a frown from Lauren, who clung to Russ’s hand. He doubted she could read it, but the thing must strike her as out of place.
The door swung open as they ascended the steps. “Glad you found the place.” Janine stepped aside to admit them.
Russ noticed how gaunt she appeared in her designer jeans and knit top. Perhaps she was stylishly thin, but compared to Rachel she seemed unhealthy and insubstantial.
He introduced his fiancée, who shook Janine’s hand firmly. “Looks like you’ve been working hard.”
She was referring to the living room, where a dim overhead fixture revealed a forlorn scene. Amid areas of wear on the carpet loomed the darker footprints of now-absen
t furniture. On the walls, patchy shapes revealed where the paint had been covered for decades.
Flustered, Janine brushed a wisp of hair off her face. “A charity picked up the stuff that didn’t sell, but you wouldn’t believe the trash! I filled two bags.”
Clutching her doll, Lauren stared around wide-eyed. Clearly, this was nothing like what she’d expected.
Russ wished he could’ve softened the blow, but at least now his daughter might grasp the permanence of the change.
“The place’ll look better after it’s painted and recarpeted. Boy, I’m stiff!” Janine performed a twisting exercise in place.
“Who’s going to live here?” Lauren asked wistfully.
“The rental agency’s received several applications.” She must have realized that fact offered no comfort, because she added encouragingly, “Maybe they’ll find a family with a little girl. I’m sure she’d love it here.”
But this is my place! Lauren’s expression proclaimed.
“Her bedroom furniture looks beautiful in her new room,” Russ told Janine.
“Well, that’s good.” She sounded a bit uncertain. He understood why, when she added, “My friends can’t believe I’m giving her up.”
“Except Byron,” he hastened to remind her.
“Sure. But…” She searched for words. “You wouldn’t believe how many people consider this a second chance for me. Not many birth moms get such an opportunity.”
“Not many birth fathers, either. I feel incredibly lucky.” Russ had to persuade her that relinquishing custody was the best decision. For heaven’s sake, she didn’t really want the child; she was simply reacting to peer pressure. “The past couple of weeks has been a real adjustment, but everything’s starting to gel. I think Lauren feels at home with us now.”
Janine studied the child, whose lashes glistened with tears. “Yes, but this is obviously hard on her.”
Impatience threatened to sharpen Russ’s tone. He struggled for the right words, but conciliation came hard.
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