Her Best-Kept Secret

by Harlen, Brenda

  Then his mouth brushed over hers again. She sighed and her eyelids fluttered closed as she tried to remember if he’d ever kissed her like this before—with endless patience and gentle persuasion. The passion was still there, she could feel it simmering just beneath the surface, but there was also tenderness and affection, and a hint of something warmer, softer, deeper. She was just starting to sink into it, allowing herself to be seduced by him, when he eased back.

  “Sweet dreams, Jenny.”

  Richard was awakened to the sound of a steady, rhythmic thump against the wall directly behind his head. He pushed himself up in bed, taking a moment to orient himself in the unfamiliar surroundings.

  He was at Jenny’s parents’ cabin. She hadn’t spent the night with him—which wasn’t a surprise but still a disappointment, but she’d let him stay—which was a relief as much as a surprise. He hoped it meant that she hadn’t written him off completely. He hadn’t expected the declaration of his feelings to break down all the barriers between them, but he hoped it would at least be a step toward building a life for them together.

  The continued thumping drew his attention again. He pulled on his clothes and went to investigate.

  The door of the room beside his was open, and there was a child on the bottom bunk. She was lying across the narrow mattress, her head hanging over the edge, her feet swinging back and then forward, thumping against the wall.

  Well, that explained the noise.

  “You must be Suki,” he said.

  She tumbled off the bed, her face splitting in a wide grin as she nodded enthusiastically. “Auntie Jenny’s making breakfast.”

  “Is that why you woke me up?”

  She shook her head, wide-eyed, innocent. “I promised not to wake you and not to go into your room.”

  Richard couldn’t help but smile. “I guess you didn’t do that,” he agreed. “But now that I’m awake, why don’t we go find out what’s for breakfast?”

  She nodded again, obviously approving his suggestion, and placed her hand inside his much larger one. “I’ll show you the kitchen.”

  Richard had offered to cook dinner for all of them, but after a day of hiking, Suki almost fell asleep at the table before he’d even boiled the water for the pasta. Jenny gave her a bowl of cereal and got her ready for bed.

  While the sauce was simmering, he opened a bottle of wine and set the table.

  “Looks like you thought of everything,” Jenny said when she came back into the room.

  He handed her a glass of wine. “I seem to have forgotten candlelight and soft music.”

  She took a long sip of the merlot. “Candles are a fire hazard and music inhibits conversation.”

  “Are you really so unromantic?”

  “I appreciate romance at the right time and place,” she said. “But this isn’t it.”

  “Sometimes you have to make the time and place.” He lowered his head to hers and kissed her softly. He felt rather than heard her sigh and though he was tempted to deepen the kiss, he forced himself to pull back. Her eyes were soft, clouded, her lips still slightly parted.

  “I’ve been wanting to do that all day,” he told her.

  “I’ve been thinking that I should have sent you back to the city last night.”

  “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily this time,” he told her.

  “What if I start using words like commitment or marriage and babies?”

  “Try me,” he said.

  She studied him for a moment, then shook her head. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

  “This?” he asked.

  “You and me.”

  “I think it’s a very good idea.” He dumped the pasta into the pot, set the timer, then came back to where she was standing and kissed her again. “The best idea I’ve ever had, in fact.”

  “I should send you back to the city now.”

  “It’s too late.”

  She sighed. “I know.”

  But she didn’t sound happy about it, so he steered the conversation to more neutral topics as he finished dinner preparations and throughout the meal. They worked together clearing up afterward, and then Jenny went to check on Suki.

  “She hasn’t moved since I tucked her in,” she told him.

  He took her hand and led her over to the sofa. “I remember your mother commenting that Suki reminds her of you. I think she’s right.”

  Jenny laughed as she sat down beside him. “The resemblance is uncanny, isn’t it?”

  “Not that she looks like you, but she has your spirit—your tenacity and endurance. She’s a great kid.”

  “Yes, she is.”

  “And you’re going to be a great mother someday.”

  “Maybe.” Her voice was wistful. “Someday.”

  He was surprised by how much he wanted to give Jenny the gift of a child, to see her belly grow round with their baby inside it. “How many kids do you want to have?”

  “Two or six or a dozen.” She smiled, then shrugged. “At least two.”

  It was easy to imagine her surrounded by children, obvious that she had enough love for twelve of them.

  And he knew now that he wanted to give her what she wanted, because he’d finally realized it was what he wanted, too. Not marriage and family in an abstract sense, but to marry Jenny and have children with her. To live with her and grow old with her. To be with her forever.

  It was suddenly so clear to him, but he knew she would need some time to trust he’d changed his mind before they could make those kind of plans. Still, he couldn’t help asking, “When you think about the future, do you see me with you?”

  “Why are you asking me that question?” She sipped her wine. “Aren’t you going back to Chicago in a few weeks?”

  “Most likely,” he agreed. “There are things I’ll need to deal with on that end to get this merger off the ground.”

  She nodded.

  “Any chance you would go with me?”

  Her eyes widened. “To Chicago?”

  “Just until the details are worked out, then we could come back here.”

  “You want to come back to Tokyo?”

  “I want to be with you, Jenny—whatever that takes.”

  “Why?” she asked softly, the question tinged with both hope and skepticism.

  “Because I love you,” he said again. “And I’d like to think that wherever the future takes us, we can find a way to be together.”

  Again, she sidestepped the declaration of his feelings, shifting so that she was straddling his lap, her knees bracketing his hips. “Let’s not worry about tomorrow.” She touched her mouth to his, nibbling gently. “Not tonight.”

  He bit back a groan as she rocked against him. He really wanted to talk to her, to make plans with her, but the sensual movements of her body were making it difficult for him to even think. “Your, uh, niece is sleeping down the hall,” he reminded her.

  “Suki is a very sound sleeper.” She was already tugging his shirt out of his pants, sliding her palms up over his chest.

  He loved the coolness of her fingers on his skin, the eagerness of her touch. “That isn’t what you said last night.”

  “Last night I wanted you to suffer—at least a little.” She pressed her lips to his chest, swirled her tongue around his nipple. Then she tipped her head back, her lips curving in a seductive smile. “Tonight, I want you to suffer a lot.”

  Helen was becoming increasingly frustrated by the delays. She was even more frustrated by the realization that she wasn’t in any position to make demands. TAKA was in control of every step of the negotiations and then had final say over whether or not the merger would even happen. There was nothing she hated more than being on the weak end of such a power imbalance—it made her feel like she was sixteen years old again, knowing she couldn’t have the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world.

  Twenty-five years later, she felt just as helpless. She forced herself to push those feelings aside
as she poured another cup of coffee and waited for Richard to arrive.

  She forgot about ancient resentments and current concerns when he walked through the door. He looked different—she noticed that right away—more settled, and happier than she’d ever seen him. Definitely happier than the last time they’d had a morning meeting like this.

  “Looks like somebody had a good weekend,” she said.

  “It was a great weekend.”

  “Then you worked things out with Jenny?”

  “Not all the details, but those will come.”

  She was genuinely pleased for him. With everything else in chaos around her, it was comforting to believe in the healing power of love.

  “I’m going to marry her,” Richard announced.

  Helen had started to lift her cup to her lips, then set it down again. “When you decide to move, it’s always full speed ahead. When’s the wedding?”

  “Soon.” He smiled. “Jenny doesn’t know yet.”

  “When are you going to let her in on this plan?”

  “Soon,” he said again.

  “Last time we spoke about marriage, you were reluctant to even consider making that kind of commitment again,” she reminded him.

  “That was before I fell in love. Now I don’t want to imagine ever waking up without her.”

  Helen’s heart sighed at the emotion in his words, and at the same time it ached knowing that she could only dream about being loved so deeply and completely.

  “The only thing that scares me now is the thought of the dozen or more children Jenny wants to have,” Richard said.

  She pushed her own regrets aside to respond to his concern. “I think you’ll be a terrific father.”

  “I hope so,” he said. “But you know from your own experience with Jack and Evan and Andrew how much grief kids can give you—and they’re not even your own.”

  She felt the familiar pang and accepted it. “No, they’re not.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to sound insensitive.”

  “You didn’t. It’s true. I’ve tried to be their mother, but I’m not.” Maybe they might have felt closer to her, opened up more easily, if she’d had George’s baby—a tie of blood to join them together—but years of trying had been both unsuccessful and heart-wrenching.

  “Did you ever wish you’d had a child of your own?”

  She swallowed the regrets, the grief, the guilt, before responding softly, “I did have a child.”

  His eyes widened, reflecting his shock.

  He couldn’t be any more surprised than she was. Her child wasn’t something she ever talked about, but the baby she’d given up had been on her mind almost constantly since the twenty-fifth anniversary of that date. Maybe it was time she unburdened herself of the secret she’d carried for so long. “A little girl,” she admitted softly.

  “You’ve never mentioned having a daughter.”

  “I was only sixteen when I got pregnant. It seemed the best thing to do—for both of us—was to give her up for adoption.”

  “I’m sorry, Helen. I know that must have been hard for you.”

  She nodded. “Hardly a day’s gone by since then that I haven’t thought about what might have been different if I’d kept her, wondered if giving up my baby was the right decision.

  “It was twenty-five years ago on August second,” she told him. “And I still remember every detail. I got to hold her in my arms for only a few minutes before they took her away, but I’ll never forget the soft downy hair, the perfect little fingers and even tinier fingernails, the heart-shaped birthmark on her hip.”

  Richard froze. “A birthmark?”

  Helen smiled as she blinked the moisture from her eyes. “It wasn’t very big. Maybe it wasn’t even a heart. But I thought it was. And I told her it was a symbol of my heart that she could carry with her forever, so she would always know she was loved.”

  He thought back to the bouquet of balloons he’d seen in Jenny’s office—the admission that it had been her twenty-fifth birthday on the second of August. He knew that she had a heart-shaped birthmark on her hip, and now he knew why she always looked so familiar to him.

  Jenny was Helen’s daughter.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “I used to believe I’d find her,” Helen continued, lost in her memories. “During the first year after my baby was born, I looked into every stroller I passed, searching for the slightest hint of familiarity. I can’t count how many times I thought—maybe it’s this child, maybe it’s her.”

  “Have you tried to find her?” Richard asked.

  “I considered it,” she admitted. “But I figured, having given her up once, I had no right to interfere in her life later. I also figured she would have tracked me down if she wanted to.”

  And she hasn’t.

  The unspoken words echoed in the silence of the room.

  “Do you want to find her?” he asked softly.

  “More than anything else in the world. I want to see my little girl again.”

  “Your little girl is twenty-five years old now,” he reminded her gently.

  “I know.” She managed a tremulous smile. “Objectively I understand that. But despite the passing of time, in my heart, I still think of her as the baby I held so briefly in my arms.”

  Richard didn’t respond. He could hardly tell Helen that her daughter had grown into a beautiful young woman—a woman who had made it clear she had no interest in finding the mother who had given birth to her and given her up.

  Jenny was pleasantly surprised when Kari buzzed through to tell her that Richard was there to see her. He came through the newsroom a few minutes later carrying two bento box lunches.

  He smiled at her, but she sensed the tension in him.

  “I thought you would be tied up in negotiations at TAKA all day,” she said.

  He set the boxes on her desk. “We seem to alternate between periods of intense negotiation and twiddling our thumbs.”

  Today he was obviously twiddling his thumbs, and she guessed the inactivity with respect to the merger was responsible for his tension. She knew he was anxious to finalize the deal. Was he also anxious to return to Chicago? Did he still want her to go with him?

  He hadn’t mentioned the possibility since they’d returned from the lake, and she was wishing now that they’d talked about it more while they were there. But she’d been taken aback by the suggestion, thrilled at this evidence that he wanted their relationship to continue, and equally scared to hope that it could. There were a lot of obstacles to overcome if they were to build a future together and after having her heart broken so many times before, she was almost afraid to let herself believe they could make it work. But she wanted to try. She wanted to be with him.

  One day at a time, she reminded herself again.

  “I did see my boss this morning, though,” Richard told her.

  “Did that meeting go well?”

  He smiled, but she still saw the hint of shadows in the curve of his lips. “Helen wants to meet you.”

  “She does?” Jenny was both surprised and a little apprehensive.

  “She’s curious about the woman who’s stolen my heart.”

  “You didn’t tell her that?”

  This time when he smiled, it came more naturally. “I didn’t have to. She said it was the smile on my face that gave it away.”

  Jenny felt her cheeks flush as her own lips curved.

  “She invited us both to have dinner with her tonight,” he said.

  “Do you want to?” she asked, sensing there was something about the suggestion that was causing him to hesitate.

  “I would really like you to meet Helen,” he admitted. “But there’s something you need to know before you decide whether or not you want to.”

  “What’s that?”

  He paused, cleared his throat. His obvious hesitation made her tummy flutter with apprehension.

  “Just tell me,” she said.

  “Duri
ng our conversation this morning, Helen mentioned that she had a baby a long time ago, and she gave her up for adoption.”

  She considered the revelation as the slow, throbbing ache of longing she’d learned to deny so long ago began to beat inside her breast again. Jenny was adopted; Helen had given her baby up for adoption. She wasn’t sure if that gave them something in common or set them apart. She guessed Richard was wondering the same thing. “And you think, because I was adopted, I’ll hold that against her?”

  “I wish it was that simple,” he said.

  She frowned.

  “I think you’re Helen’s daughter.”

  Jenny could only stare at him, stunned. Then she shook her head. “That’s impossible.”

  Richard reached across the desk for her hand, but she pushed her chair back and stood up.

  “Helen’s daughter was born on August second twenty-five years ago,” he told her.

  She shook her head again. “It’s just a coincidence.”

  “I’m not telling you this to upset you,” he said gently. “But I think this could be a great opportunity for you to finally know your biological mother.”

  She turned away. “I don’t want to talk about this. The idea is just too ridiculous.”

  “I know it seems unlikely—”

  “I doubt I’m the only child born on that day who was given up for adoption,” she interrupted.

  “You’re probably right.”

  The easy agreement and soothing tone didn’t help to ease the panic building inside her. Somehow she knew there was more to come.

  “And if it was only your age and date of birth, I wouldn’t have jumped to any conclusions,” he told her.

  “What else is there?” she demanded.

  “You look like her.”

  “She’s blond,” Jenny said automatically.

  “Which is probably why I didn’t make the connection immediately,” Richard said. “But the first time I saw you, I thought you looked familiar. I realize now, it’s because you look like Helen.

  “It’s not an obvious resemblance,” he continued. “But your bone structure is the same, your eyes are the identical shape and color, even the way you move is similar.”