“Stay there, honey. I can let myself out.”
She got up slowly and put the few dishes in the dishwasher. She hadn’t been able to deal with Rufus’s questions; her mind had been on her narrow escape. If he had arrived five minutes earlier, he’d have found Aaron there. She tried to dismiss the feeling that she stood at a precipice, about to tumble into disaster.
Rufus stepped briskly up to the lectern. Next to writing, his greatest pleasure was in talking to young people, especially teenagers. As usual, before he began to speak, he let his gaze sweep his audience as he took its pulse. Why was Naomi there? If she wanted to see him, she knew where he lived. But this wasn’t the time to think about Naomi, he told himself, and got down to the business at hand. He smiled appreciatively at the waves of applause that greeted him at the end of his twenty-minute talk. Reaching down for the small case that he’d brought with him, he stepped across the rostrum to the boys and girls who stood with their parents. He knew that the older boys weren’t shaking hands with the speaker, but with Cat Meade, the former NFL wide receiver. Nonetheless, he hoped his message would have an impact on their lives. He handed each a key ring, a small gold-plated replica of a house, on the back of which was inscribed, “Best wishes, Rufus Meade.”
He reached for the hand extended to him and looked into Judd Logan’s face. “What are you…” His glance shifted to the right and the boy beside Judd. He managed to exchange greetings with them, finish his round, smile at everyone, and get off the stage. He had to find her.
As if she’d known he’d come, she remained seated, right where she’d been all evening, open and vulnerable. He walked up to her, knowing that if he said a word, he’d regret it. The people around them were just a faceless mass of human flesh; there was only Naomi, the woman he loved beyond all reason. The woman who thought so little of his capacity for caring and understanding that she couldn’t tell him she had a teenaged son. If that boy wasn’t hers, there was no such things as genes. He stared at her for minutes and said nothing. Talking would have been useful yesterday or that morning, but not now. He shook his head sadly, not caring that his disappointment showed, nodded to the startled woman beside her, and walked away.
Home at last, away from the fuss and adulation that he hated, away from the scene of his shocking discovery. At the door to his sons’ bedroom, watching their peaceful sleep, he gave thanks for the one constant in his life: his love for his sons and theirs for him. Why couldn’t she have trusted him? Why hadn’t she realized that he’d have climbed mountains for her, and that he’d have made her problems his own, that all he asked in return was her trust, her faith in him? He walked to the window, drawn there by the howling winter wind, and looked out at the desolate, leafless trees, eerie shapes beneath the dark, cloudy skies. He’d never felt so disheartened, nor so alone.
He’d had clues, but they hadn’t fit any pattern. At last he understood Naomi’s protectiveness toward Linda and her sudden refusal to block the admittance of boys to OLC. Still, something didn’t fit. If the boy was hers, where had he been? Naomi had said she was an only child, so that boy had to be her son. And the age fit the bits and pieces of information he’d gotten from her and Judd. It’s been over fourteen years since she let herself get as close to a man as she was to you last night. And I know that for a fact, Judd had told him. That boy had to be about fourteen. He walked out of the room and closed the door. Something wasn’t right, and he had to decide whether he cared enough to find out what was beneath it all. He wondered what she was thinking right then, whether she realized what she’d done.
Naomi looked up at the inquiring faces of Aaron and Rosalie and into the knowing eyes of her grandfather. “Come on, Naomi gal, we’re the last ones here.” His withered fingers grasped her shoulders, urging her to get up, and his old eyes softened with sympathy. She trailed them outside, hardly aware of her surroundings. At her car, Judd stopped her. “No point in crying over spilled milk, gal. You didn’t tell him, and now he knows. Either find a way to patch it up, or forget him and get on with your life. Neither course is going to be easy. If I’d known this would happen, I’d still have sat with Aaron. It was past time for you to level with Rufus; you hadn’t any right to let him care for you while you kept him in the dark about something like this. I kept your secret, but you know I didn’t like doing it. I begged you just yesterday to talk to him. You’re going to have to make the first move, and you’d better make it soon.”
Naomi turned at the touch of Aaron’s hand on hers. “I’ll be over tomorrow morning, Noomie.” She nodded. Ten minutes later, she walked into her apartment, too numb to do more than pull off her clothes and get into bed. She hadn’t misinterpreted the cool disapproval in Rufus’s eyes; he had condemned her without giving her a chance to explain. She had been right not to confide in him; he didn’t care enough. And she’d have to straighten Judd out. She’d told Rufus many times that there couldn’t be anything between them, so she couldn’t be accused of leading him on.
She answered her door at eight-fifteen the next morning to find a very solemn Aaron standing there. He walked past her quickly, as if to avoid a greeting.
“If you didn’t eat breakfast yet, I’ll eat with you. All I did was get up, put my clothes on, and leave. My mom dropped me off.” She wondered about his nervous chatter; it was unlike him. She put together a hearty breakfast and sat down with him.
“What’s on your mind, Aaron?” She didn’t plan to let him disturb her equilibrium, no matter what he said or did. Rufus had given her enough to deal with.
He chewed his bacon deliberately, swallowed it, and sipped some coffee. “What is Cat Meade to you, Naomi?” She hadn’t expected his question to be so direct. Unfazed, she looked into her son’s steely, accusing gaze. She no longer had a reason for evasiveness and secrecy; she could be herself.
“I love him, Aaron.”
“I see. So he’s the one. And you didn’t tell him about me. He found out on his own last night, because I’m the spitting image of you and I was with Grandpa. Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t think I could handle it if he scorned me for having a child that was given up for adoption. He doesn’t know that part yet, and he still judged me harshly, without hearing me out.”
“Come on, Noomie. The guy got a shock. Do you think it would’ve been worse if you’d sat down and talked to him?” He sipped the last of his coffee, and she watched his young face sadden.
“I should have stayed out of your life. If I hadn’t pushed my mom so hard to find you, you’d probably be married to the guy by now. But I’m not really sorry, Noomie, because now that I know you, I understand myself better. I guess I shouldn’t have stuck so close to you and Grandpa, though. My mom says it’s natural for me to like being around you, since you don’t mind. But I’ll disappear, if it’ll make things better between you and Mr. Meade.” He looked at her expectantly, and she hurt for him. He had chosen to take responsibility for the mess she’d made.
“Aaron, Rufus can’t replace you in my life, any more than you can take his place. Try to understand that you aren’t part of any solution to my problem with Rufus. And meeting you was my decision; a decision I have never regretted. Nor will I ever. You come here as often as you like and as long as Rosalie doesn’t mind.” He seemed more relaxed, and she hoped she’d put his mind at ease.
Later, he stood at her door, about to leave, more pensive than she remembered having seen him and without his usual swagger. “I hope you make up with him, Noomie. I like him a lot. Us guys in my class think he’s a saint; he’s practically our guardian angel. Sometime you can tell me how you met him.” She laughed at the memory, and Aaron smiled broadly, as if glad to see the change in her. He left, but forgot his thumbs-up sign. If only he’d forget about her and Rufus; she knew she had to do just that. From Rufus’s behavior last night, it was over between them.
Rufus sat in his office with Sheld
on on his knee and Preston between his legs leaning against him and listened to Dick Jenkins drone on and on. He didn’t usually discuss business with his boys hanging onto him, but Dick had dragged the appointment out for three hours. He had switched on the answering machine and didn’t answer the phone, but when he heard, “I’m Aaron Hopkins. I met you last night,” he picked up the receiver.
“Hello, Aaron. I can’t speak with you right now. Give me your number, and I’ll call you in five minutes.” That should get rid of Jenkins.
“Aaron, this is Rufus Meade.” The boy wanted to come and see him. He wasn’t going to discuss Naomi with anyone, but he’d listen to Aaron, he decided. He opened the door an hour later to the handsome boy who looked so much like the woman he loved.
“Come in, Aaron.” He noticed the boy’s reticence and draped an arm loosely around his shoulder.
“Thanks for letting me come. Where are the twins?” He hadn’t expected that Naomi would have told the boy about him and his children.
“They’re about to have a nap.” He poured two glasses of ginger ale and sat down, motioning to Aaron to do the same. “What can I do for you?” He watched Aaron take a deep breath, as if preparing himself for an ordeal.
“I’m fourteen, and I’m very reliable. So if you need a sitter sometime, or maybe someone to run errands or something, I’d be glad to do it without charge. Reverend Logan could give you a reference.” He wondered what had given the boy such a guilt complex, but he wouldn’t pry.
“Thanks, I appreciate the offer, and I may call on you, but I’ll pay you the going rate. Never offer charity where none is needed, son. I hear my boys running around upstairs. Come, I’ll introduce you.” Sometime later, he dressed the boys for their trip to the library, listening to their chatter about their new friends, Grandpa and Aaron. What had prompted Aaron to seek him out? He remembered seeing him in the school gym, a bright, inquisitive kid, but the boy had never said a word to him. And he sensed Aaron’s protectiveness toward Naomi. But why? Strange, that he’d never seen evidence of him in her apartment.
Rufus arrived at the Journal the next morning, a few minutes early for his appointment with Hector Shaw, its editor-in-chief. He’d left the boys with Jewel’s husband, but he had been tempted to ask Aaron to stay with them. Hector rushed in at precisely nine o’clock.
“Sorry, Cat, but there was an accident, and I had to make a detour. Let’s check the police headquarters and see if we can find out anything. There appeared to be several cars involved.” He picked up the receiver, dialed and got down to business. It was routine, a part of the job.
“How old is he? Did you get his name? How do you spell that? Thanks.”
He hung up and turned to Rufus. “A bad accident, but no fatalities. Routine stuff. A kid on in-line skates. They took him to the hospital center. I’ll put Joyce on it. She’ll get the human interest aspect. Those skates are dangerous.” He puffed on his stale pipe.
Rufus saw nothing routine about a kid getting hit. An odd sensation pricked the back of his neck. “How old is the boy?”
“Early teens. Why?”
Rufus knew that he only pulled at his chin when he was disturbed. He resisted doing it, but for some reason, he had an unaccountable edginess. “What is the boy’s name?”
Hector checked his notepad. “Hopkins.”
Rufus turned on his heel with the speed for which he was famous. “I’ll speak with you later on. Right now I’ve got to get to that hospital,” he called over his shoulder.
He found Naomi and Rosalie huddled together in the waiting room, frightened. “I’m Rufus Meade,” he told Rosalie. Naomi’s tear-streaked face and sad, reddened eyes clutched at his heart as she looked at him. “Rufus, this is my friend Rosalie Hopkins. We don’t have any news yet. A car side-swiped him, and two other cars collided to avoid hitting him. He’s in surgery. How did you know about this?”
“I was at the Journal.” His mind raced, searching for a logical explanation of the relationship between the two women and Aaron. Hours later, a doctor informed them that Aaron had suffered internal injuries and a sprained knee, but would recover fully within a few weeks. He advised them to go home; the boy was in intensive care and wouldn’t be allowed visitors for twenty-four hours. Naomi had said she was an only child and that she’d never married. Rosalie and Aaron had the same last name, but Aaron resembled Naomi, not Rosalie. Somewhere in there lay Naomi’s reason for secrecy, he’d bet on that.
Naomi walked zombie-like into her bedroom and sat on the bed. Rufus had insisted on bringing her home, and she was grateful. The chill in her chest had nearly disappeared when she saw him coming toward her in the hospital, confident but concerned. “I think you should undress and try to sleep,” he advised her. “I’ll phone Judd. Then I’ll run over to Jewel’s to look after my boys, but I’ll come back and see that you get dinner.”
She tried to keep the weariness out of her voice so that he wouldn’t think she was asking for his sympathy. “I don’t expect that from you, Rufus, though I do thank you for being there today. It meant more to me than you could imagine. But I’ll be all right.”
His gaze seared her, and she shifted nervously under its impact. “I said I’ll be back here. Give me your keys, and I’ll let myself in.” She gave them to him, wondering why he’d bother.
She awakened at his urging two hours later to a lobster dinner complete with white wine and chocolate mousse for dessert. He had set her kitchen table for two, adding candles and three calla lilies he’d brought her. He reached across the table, took her hand in his, and said grace, then proceeded to eat as though it was their daily routine. She loved lobster, but salty tears impaired its taste.
He spoke for the first time. Lovingly. Compassionately. “Don’t worry, Naomi. The doctor said he’ll be okay, and that there won’t be any aftereffects.”
She brushed away the tears and forced a smile. “If I’d known you could cook like this, I’d have asked you to marry me. With this kind of talent, I’d take a chance.”
He looked steadily at her. “I’m glad you feel like joking, even if it’s at my expense. And incidentally, if I can cook like this, why would I want a wife?”
She laughed; he could give as good as he got, though she figured he felt about as much like teasing as she did. She looked at him. Oh, Lord. He wasn’t joking.
“I’m sorry.” Poor recompense, she knew, but it was what she felt. They finished the meal, and he insisted on straightening up the kitchen. She took the flowers from the table and thanked him for them. He only nodded, and she realized too late that he wasn’t a man to diminish his standard of behavior no matter what anyone else did. He would be gracious and considerate even if he wanted to throttle her. She walked out of the kitchen slowly, dispirited; from the way he acted, she could be a woman he’d just met.
She put the flowers beside her bed and crawled under the covers. “Life begins tomorrow,” she told herself, “and if I can’t have him, I’ll just get along without him.”
Her heartbeat accelerated wildly at the sound of his soft knock. “Yes?” Emotion clogged her throat, nearly strangling her. Was he asking to come in? He couldn’t be!
“If you need me, Naomi, I’ll be in your guestroom. I’ve just spoken with the doctor at the hospital. Aaron is comfortable and not in any danger. Good night.”
“Goodnight, Rufus. And th-thank you.”
Hours later, she turned on the light, unable to sleep. Was this how Rufus felt when she refused to tell him what kept them apart? When she got downstairs the next morning, Rufus had already left.
Each morning she joined Rosalie in Aaron’s hospital room and sat there with her most of the day. And she watched the door impatiently every afternoon until Rufus arrived. She and Rosalie noticed that Aaron was brighter and more responsive during Rufus’s visits. And Naomi became increasingly cons
cious of the bond that had begun to form between her and the woman who had nurtured her son. She gasped in astonishment at Rosalie’s suggestion that Aaron recuperate at her apartment, explaining that she had lost two weeks’ pay and couldn’t afford to lose more.
Naomi remembered that Rosalie was a nurse and would have been the more logical choice as caregiver for Aaron. Her common sense told her that Rosalie’s financial circumstances must be more modest than she had thought, and the knowledge saddened her. But she gloried in the chance to care for Aaron and to help him stay abreast of his schoolwork. She expected that Rosalie would be attentive to Aaron, visiting him daily. But she could not have imagined that Rufus would care for them and nurture them as he did, calling in advance for her shopping list, even cooking on occasion. She looked forward to his daily visits and especially to those times when he brought the boys with him. But the deep, aching need that spread through her each time she saw him remained unappeased when he left. How could he be so impersonal? Friendly. Caring. Considerate. And still so detached. She’d catch him looking at her and see the hot desire in his eyes immediately turn to cool disinterest. Chills coursed through her as she thought of him sitting beside her in Aaron’s room or passing within inches of her, always with a smile that barely reached his lips and always avoiding touching her. He hadn’t made a semblance of an overture toward her since that awful night, and she knew he wouldn’t.
Judd visited Aaron nearly every day, and one afternoon, he followed Naomi into the living room. “He’s giving you a hard time, isn’t he, gal?”
“Oh, Grandpa, I made a terrible mistake. I just know it. He is completely unselfish and caring. I believe he might have understood if I’d given him a chance. He quietly takes care of us; if we need anything, we don’t have to ask him, he just seems to sense it.”
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