It was the way Spencer looked at J.D. The worship blooming in his eyes.
Just like that, Doug was gone.
“Can I have a word with you, Spencer?” she said, her voice sharp and biting, but only J.D. seemed to notice, turning to her with a sudden tension.
“Sure, but, Mom, guess—”
“Now!” she snapped and Spencer’s mouth fell open.
I’m sorry, she wanted to say. I don’t know what I’m doing. “Please,” she murmured to soften the blow.
Spencer, silent, his inner light extinguished, jumped off the counter.
“I’ll see you later,” J.D. said to Spencer though his eyes were on Jennifer. She couldn’t read them, but they made her uncomfortable. Scared even.
The man couldn’t be further from Doug if he’d tried.
I want out of here, her heart screamed. Right now.
“What’s going on, Mom?” Spencer asked as they walked toward their room. But she knew, as much as she wanted out, Spencer wanted to stay and a battle she barely had the energy for was coming her way.
“Why don’t you get dressed,” she said, stalling for time. “Then we’ll talk.”
J.D. watched the boy and his mother leave and had to fight himself to stay put. It wouldn’t be cool to follow, to listen at the door. There was no call for surveillance.
But, man, ten minutes with the boy and J.D. hated to see him walk out of the room like that. Cowed. All the sparkle in his eyes gone.
Sam entered the kitchen behind him. Not that she touched him. Or he heard her. It was nothing that concrete. He just knew she was there even though she was feet away.
When would this end? “You told him?” Sam whispered.
He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah.”
“That must have made him happy,” she said. He could hear her trying to smile and it set off a stinging pain in his chest.
“Seemed to,” he said and turned back to the lock. He picked up the plastic from the counter and tossed it in the trash, searching for something else to do to keep his hands busy.
“Have you talked to your friend?” Sam asked. “The FBI agent?”
“I left a message this morning,” he said, turning slightly to catch sight of her out of the corner of his eye. “He should get back to me soon.”
She was pale, her eyes red, and it shouldn’t bother him, but it did. She’d been crying. But there was something else about her, something flinty and cold. Something new.
“I’d like this situation with Christina cleared up as soon as possible,” she said, her eyes unblinking.
“And why’s that?” he asked, though he could sense the answer in the tilt of her chin. It was about time, he thought, even as that stinging pain came back, harder and sharper than before.
“I want you out of my life,” she said and turned back to her office.
It was no different than how he felt. No different at all.
So the pain was a bit surprising.
The cell phone in his hip pocket vibrated and he yanked it free. Greg. Finally.
“What?” he barked into the receiver.
“We’ve got a small problem,” Greg said.
“No,” Spencer said and crossed his arms. Mom was nuts if she thought he was going to leave now. “No way.”
Mom shook her head and pushed the clean clothes at him. “It’s not a question, Spence—”
Spence didn’t uncross his arms so the clothes fell on the floor. Mom was mad, and getting madder, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t fair. She wasn’t being fair.
“You just want to leave because you don’t want me to have another Mom and Dad.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, but she was lying. Spence could tell. She’d been lying the whole trip here. For years, every time he brought up meeting his birth mother she’d been trying to change his mind. Well, it wasn’t going to work anymore. He’d already met them. And he liked them.
“You didn’t want to come here,” he yelled. “You never did. You don’t like Sam or J.D. and you don’t want me to like them either.”
“Spence—” Mom reached out for him but he slapped away her hands.
“I’m not a kid, Mom.”
“Oh, yes, you are. You’re my kid—”
“No, I’m not. I’m Sam and J.D.’s kid.”
Mom went white and stumbled backward, falling against her bed. His heart beat so hard his chest hurt.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “Mom—” He reached out for her and she put up her hand like a crossing guard at a dangerous street. He stopped and chewed on his lip. “I didn’t mean that.”
“You didn’t?” she asked like she didn’t believe him.
Spence shook his head. “You’re my mom and Dad was my dad. I just—” He stopped because Mom looked like she might cry again and he felt like he was sitting at the bottom of the pool and his lungs were gonna burst if he didn’t get some air. “I just like Sam and J.D. and I don’t want to go yet.”
“I have to go to work, Spencer,” she said. Mom cleared her throat and crossed her hands in her lap.
“But you said you weren’t going to go back to work until after summer.” If Mom went back to work, he’d be stuck with Mrs. Simms all summer. And Mom going back to work meant she’d work late and on Saturdays and he’d never see her. And then both his parents would be gone.
“I know, but the First Lady has agreed to do an interview.”
“But you promised,” he said, his voice small and he knew she’d tell him not to whine, that sometimes he couldn’t get what he wanted. He knew that. He knew that really well.
But this was important.
“It’s just a week,” she said, smiling into his eyes with one of her fake smiles that he hated. “Probably only four days. And when I’m done with this we can go on a real vacation. Wouldn’t that be fun? Maybe go back to Asheville. You liked it there and—”
“This is a real vacation,” he insisted. “This is better than a vacation.”
She smiled. “Well, I’m glad you think so but—”
Suddenly the solution dawned on him. “You go to work,” he said, grabbing his mom’s hand. “And I’ll stay here.”
“What?”
“It’s only four days. You said so yourself. I can stay here and you—”
She shook her head.
“But, Mom—”
“No but Mom.” She pulled her hands free and bent to pick up his clean clothes. She held them out to him, her face like a rock. “Come on, get dressed.”
“You’re not being fair.”
“And you’re not thinking, Spence. You can’t stay here for four days. This isn’t just Sam’s home, it’s her business. Maybe there’s no room for you here.”
“But we could ask.”
“No. We can’t.”
“Dad would do it,” he whispered. Her face got so tight and terrible that he had to look away.
“Dad’s not here,” she said, her voice like a scream.
“But if he was, he’d say yes.” He looked at her and it was really scary because she was so mad and her hands were fists and her eyes were red. “You know he would.”
Mom was shaking. Her head, her hands, the ends of her hair.
Dad was the one who had always thought Spence should meet his birth parents. He talked about it a lot, and once he got sick it was about all he talked about. “It’s just more love,” is what Dad always said to Spencer when, at first, he didn’t want to do it. And Dad used to say it to Mom, at night, when Spencer could hear them down in the kitchen arguing about it. “It’s just more love, Jen. And when I’m gone, he’ll need that. You both will.”
They’d really fight then, but Spencer had understood what Dad meant. And so had Mom.
“It’s just more love, Mom,” he whispered.
“Don’t—” she cried and he flinched away from her. “Oh, no,” she whispered. “Oh, dear God, what am I doing?” Mom reached for his hand, reeling him in like a fish until he was presse
d tight to her chest, her arms around his waist. Under his ear he heard her heartbeat. She kissed his forehead and he felt like crying.
“I’m sorry,” she breathed.
“It’s okay,” he told her quickly.
“No, it’s not. It’s not okay to yell at you or make you scared.”
“I’m not scared,” he lied. Her laugh ruffled his hair.
She pulled back and smiled at him, so sad it felt like she was crying. “You’re never scared, are you?” she asked.
“I’m scared you’re going to say no,” he said. “About staying here.”
She didn’t say anything and he started to think that Dad had gotten it wrong. That Spence had gotten it all wrong.
“I’ll have to ask Sam,” she said. “So it’s still not a yes.”
“But it’s not a no yet, either,” he said, hope a balloon in his chest.
“It’s not a no,” she agreed, putting her lips right by his ear. She swayed a little and he closed his eyes.
“You’re so much like him, you know,” she whispered.
Little bombs of relief and love and sadness went off in his chest and he felt like missing his dad was something so big, and so painful he would die from it if he was alone.
And he guessed Mom felt the same way.
He wrapped his arms around her, feeling the bones of her back and pressed his nose in tight to her throat. He took a big breath of his mom’s smell, so happy. So glad.
Sam looked up at the knock on her door, both hoping and dreading it would be J.D. standing there, but it wasn’t.
It was Jennifer. And she didn’t look happy.
“Come on in,” Sam said, sitting back from her desk and the doctor’s appointments she’d been scheduling for Christina Conti.
“I don’t mean to interrupt.” Jennifer was back in Ice Queen mode, totally controlled. Totally unemotional.
What an act, Sam thought, looking into the woman’s eyes. She didn’t know what Jennifer struggled so hard to control but Sam would bet it wasn’t pretty.
Jennifer reminded her slightly of J.D., and all of his restraint.
“No worries. Please come in.” Sam waved her hand toward the other free chair. “How was your room last night?”
“Fine.” Jennifer sat. “Everything is just fine.”
Liar, liar. “What can I do for you?”
Jennifer took a deep breath and seemed to hold it while studying her fingernails. “I, ah…” She sighed, then smiled, but her lips trembled. Sam had the very real sense that inside that woman’s head barriers were being stormed.
“It’s okay, Jennifer,” she said. “How can I help you?”
Jennifer’s laugh was more like a gasp of pain and she stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. “I want to hate you,” she said and Sam sat back, slightly stunned. “I want that J.D. man to get the hell out of here so my son won’t want to spend time with him.” Tears spilled down Jennifer’s cheeks. “I want you to be a terrible person so my son won’t like you.” Jennifer tipped her head down and looked at Sam with eyes filled with pain. “Can you do that?”
Sam shook her head.
“I didn’t think so.” Jennifer hauled in a deep breath and pressed away the tears with the palms of her hands.
“Jennifer, I am no threat to you as a mother,” Sam said. “I would love to get to know Spence, but I will never be able to take your place. And J.D.—” She stopped, unsure of what she could say about J.D. that would reassure Jennifer. J.D. will only break Spence’s heart? Probably not what Jennifer wanted to hear.
“I know,” Jennifer said. “In my head I know all this. But in my heart—” Her face twisted with pain. “Sometimes I forget. Actually, most of the time I forget.”
“Tell me what I can do,” Sam said, charging in the way she always did, ready to bear the load and ease the pain. “If you two want to stay here longer, or leave right now. Not that I want you to. The shelter is practically empty and I’m really enjoying having—”
“Good, because Spence wants to stay.”
“Wonderful, you can stay as—”
“Just Spence,” Jennifer said. “I have to go back to work.”
Sam blinked at Jennifer, her heart in her throat. “For how long?” Forever? Was that how this would play out? The son she’d given up returned to her?
“Four days,” Jennifer said with a slight twist to her lips. “But if it’s an inconvenience in any way, he can come with me. He knows that you run a business here and he can’t just impose on you.”
“It’s not an imposition at all. He’s welcome to stay. You both are.”
Jennifer stared at her, the ice melting, the human woman emerging. “You’re a good person, aren’t you?”
“I try to be.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been so mean—”
Samantha held up her hand. “Please, no apologies. You’ve been under a lot of stress lately. Spencer told me about his father.”
“It hasn’t been easy,” Jennifer breathed and Sam felt a pull toward the woman, a kinship that she’d never expected.
Jennifer was doing the best she could and Sam had to admire that. Had to really respect it.
“J.D.?” Jennifer said, watching Sam carefully. “Where is he?”
“He’s not out in the kitchen?” she asked, stunned. She’d just told him she wanted him out of her life ten minutes ago. He wouldn’t have already acted on that statement, would he?
“Has he left?” Jennifer asked. “Just like that?”
“No.” Sam shook her head. He wouldn’t do that, not with Christina and the mafia question unanswered. “I’m sure he’ll be right back.” She tried to put as good a face on it as she could, but she could tell Jennifer wasn’t entirely believing or reassured.
“He really is Spencer’s father?”
“He is.”
“He didn’t seem terribly interested,” Jennifer said. “And now that he’s told Spencer he’s got all his hopes up.”
“I know.” Sam could not believe she was about to defend the man. “But he didn’t know about Spence. You’ve got to give him some time.”
Jennifer’s eyebrows nearly hit her hairline. “That’s quite a secret to keep.”
“He’s kept a few of his own,” she said, not about to explain their relationship.
“Are you two…” Jennifer trailed off.
“Is it any of your business?” Sam asked.
“It is if Spence is going to stay here. If J.D.’s going to just walk away, or…”
It was Sam’s fear, too, that J.D.—this new J.D. she didn’t know and couldn’t depend on—would hurt Spencer with his callousness. Like he’d hurt her.
“I’ll take care of J.D.,” she said.
Astonishingly, Jennifer smiled. At least Sam thought that slight tip to her lips was a smile.
“Have you been together long?” Jennifer asked.
“Ah.” Sam stalled. How was she supposed to answer that? “Yes and no,” she finally said. “It’s complicated.”
“I was with Doug for fifteen years and in some ways, it never got less complicated,” Jennifer said. “In some ways it was like we’d known each other our whole lives. And then I could turn around and wonder who this stranger was that I married.”
“I know that feeling.” Sam laughed without much humor.
“It’s worse now with Spence. When I look at him I expect to see my baby and instead there’s this little man standing there.”
“You should be very proud of him,” Sam said.
“I am.” Jennifer flushed. “I’m not sure he could say the same right now.”
“Don’t judge yourself too harshly,” Sam said but Jennifer shook her head, apparently not ready to say anything else on the subject.
“At the risk of repeating myself, I’m so glad you’re here,” Sam said, reaching out and covering Jennifer’s cold hand with her own. “Both of you. And I mean it. You can stay as long as you need to.”
Jennifer’s smile was fragile b
ut real. “Thank you,” she said, flipping her hand around and giving Sam’s the smallest squeeze, before pulling away.
It wasn’t much, Sam thought, but it was the beginning.
“Spence is so excited about staying,” Jennifer said and suddenly Sam felt her stomach bottom out.
Spence—her son—was staying. For four days. By himself.
What in the world was she going to do?
10
J.D. wished he could leave. Staring at Serenity House lit up in a bubble of security lights against the black night, he wanted to start the car and drive north, away from what he’d done here today. Away from Sam. Away from Spence.
But because of this mess with Greg, J.D. was firmly locked in here. Christina’s boyfriend didn’t meet with the bureau last night and was now considered to be on the run.
All day dealing with the fallout and J.D. still couldn’t believe it. Greg had lost a seventeen-year-old boy and, with the resources of the government behind him, he still couldn’t find the kid.
And so Greg had called J.D., told him to keep a lookout, that the boyfriend was probably headed toward Christina. Greg and his fellow agents suspected the two would try to disappear.
So he was here. Staring at Serenity, at the light on in Sam’s room, and he felt as though he’d always been here. That, no matter where he went, part of him would always be here.
Sitting in his car outside Sam’s house.
“Get a grip.” He swore, then forced himself into action, climbing out of the car and slamming the door behind him.
He’d remained outside most of the day. He’d kept an eye on everyone from his car while he made phone calls. He’d done what he was good at, observed from a distance. Not involved. Not attached.
He’d watched while Jennifer drove away, Spence and Sam standing on the front lawn waving goodbye, and he’d wondered what was going on. Then he’d quickly reminded himself that it didn’t change anything. He was working a case and the case remained the same no matter who was here.
At one point, he emailed pictures of Brett Trachten, Christina’s boyfriend, to some of his associates in the area, asking them to keep an eye open for the kid.
The Story Of Us: A Secret Baby Romance (Serenity House Book 1) Page 11