They reached the fence, ducked between the two rails and started off into the trees. The woods quickly enveloped them, the air cooler here than by the house and heavy with the fresh smell of rich earth and spring growth.
After they’d walked a hundred yards or so, Hank said, “Do you feel up to talking to Robbie tonight before he goes to bed? Or would you rather leave it till tomorrow?”
Her pulse skipped a beat. As much as she’d been wanting to tell him she was his mother, she wasn’t sure she did feel up to it. Aside from everything else, the prospect made her very nervous.
What if he got upset? What if he didn’t want her for a mother? What if...
Forcing away a dozen more what-ifs she said, “It’s going to be tricky, whenever we do it, isn’t it. Considering you told him his mother was dead...
“I didn’t intend that as a criticism,” she added quickly, “but...”
Hank stopped walking and turned to face her. “I explained why, didn’t I? Because as far as I knew you were dead. And my ex-wife...well, when she left she said Robbie was all mine. That she wasn’t interested in being part of his life.”
She nodded, wondering once again how a woman could adopt a baby, then just walk away from him. For that matter, how could a woman walk away from a man like Hank?
Before she’d even thought about whether she should just keep quiet or not, she was saying, “Hank, can I ask what happened? I mean, I know what was in Rodger Spicer’s report, but it really didn’t tell me why your marriage broke up. Or is that totally none of my business?”
He eyed her for a few seconds, then shrugged and slowly said, “My ex-wife, Jane, is the sort of person who’s never entirely happy.
“I don’t mean I figure it was all her fault that things didn’t work out between us. Cops have a high divorce rate. The shift work and the stress of the job don’t make for ideal husband material.
“But Jane... Take the reason I live here, for example,” he said, gesturing back in the direction of the now-invisible house.
“When we were first married we had an apartment in Brooklyn. She wanted a house, though. On a good-sized piece of property. So we bought here and I started commuting.
“Two months later, she was complaining about feeling isolated. And telling me she didn’t like the fact that I was around even less than I’d been before. Which, of course, was because I was spending so much time driving into the city and back.
“As for Robbie... She’d convinced herself that the problems in our marriage would be solved if we just had a baby. Then we got Robbie, and she discovered he was a lot of work and no solution at all.”
Hank shrugged again. “End of story.”
“I’m sorry,” Natalie murmured.
“Don’t be. By the time she left... Well, let’s just say she didn’t leave me brokenhearted.”
“And you stayed here, commute and all.”
“Uh-huh. Finding Audrey had a lot to do with that. Plus the house is comfortable. And having this practically outside the back door... It’s like our own private forest.”
They were silent for a moment, then Hank said, “We got off track.”
“Yes, I guess we did.”
“The question was, are we going to tell Robbie tonight?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
STANDING ON THE porch beside Hank, Natalie uneasily watched a car turn into the driveway.
She knew it was Mary Gerard bringing Robbie home. And they’d decided that as soon as she left they’d sit down and explain things to him. However, the prospect of doing so had her anxiety level creeping higher by the minute.
She kept telling herself Hank was right. That they might as well get it over with. And that by the time he left for work Robbie would have asked his questions, gotten his answers and be fast asleep.
Still, she just couldn’t shake the fear he’d wake up later, when only she was here, and...
But worrying about something that might not happen was a waste of energy. So she did her best to force her concerns away as Mary climbed out of the car—then opened the back door for Robbie and her own little boy.
Gary was a bit bigger and probably, Natalie guessed, the best part of a year older. But given the way they raced off together, as if only the two of them existed in the world, she’d also guess they got along just fine.
When she focused on Mary again, the woman was heading toward the house, her expression a mixture of friendliness and curiosity.
After Hank introduced them, she said, “Robbie’s been talking about you. He told us you’re a doctor.”
“Right, I am.”
“Oh. I thought he must have been confused.
“Don’t take that the wrong way,” she added quickly. “I just meant it struck me as strange that a doctor would be babysitting him.”
“It’s a long, involved story,” Hank said.
Mary glanced at him, then back at Natalie, clearly hoping one of them would elaborate. By then, though, Robbie and Gary were on the porch and Robbie was announcing they’d had hot dogs for dinner.
“And ice cream,” Gary added.
“You did, huh? We had liver,” Hank lied.
Robbie grimaced; Gary pretended he was throwing up.
The truth was, they’d had pizza, although it might as well have been cardboard for all Natalie had tasted.
“Did you remember to thank Mrs. Gerard?” Hank asked Robbie.
As he nodded emphatically, Hank focused on Mary. “I really appreciate your taking him.”
“No problem. Anytime.”
There were a few seconds of silence, then Hank said, “I’d ask you in for coffee, but I’m working nights.”
“That’s all right. I think these two have had enough of each other’s company, anyhow. They were being really silly on the way here.”
While Mary was speaking, Natalie wondered whether she realized that by “nights” Hank actually meant the shift started at midnight. If she did, she’d wonder what that had to do with not asking her in for coffee when it was barely seven-thirty.
But she didn’t say anything about it—just took her son’s hand and said, “Well, we’d better be getting back home. We’ll see you again, sweetie,” she added to Robbie. “And nice meeting you, Natalie.”
“Nice meeting you, too.”
When she and Gary reached the bottom of the porch steps, she turned back. “Is Audrey still going to stay out west the full two weeks, Hank? Now that Betty’s in the hospital?”
He nodded. “She offered to come back sooner, but I told her no way.”
“Ah, well, in that case I might see you again, Natalie.”
“I’d like that.”
Mary smiled, then she and Gary headed for her car.
Robbie stood waving goodbye until she’d pulled out onto the road. As she began to pick up speed, he said, “Can I watch a movie, Daddy?”
“Maybe later,” Hank told him. “First, Natalie and I want to talk to you about something.”
“What?”
Butterflies in her stomach. The tired phrase flitted through her mind, but it didn’t precisely describe the sensation she was feeling. More accurately, there seemed to be gigantic moths beating their wings inside her.
Hank lifted Robbie up, then sat down with him on one of the two Adirondack chairs.
“Natalie?” he added, gesturing toward the other one while Robbie wiggled around, getting comfortable on his knee.
She made herself sit.
“What?” Robbie repeated.
“This is an important talk,” Hank said. “So I need you to concentrate. And whenever you don’t understand something, you stop me right away. Okay?”
He nodded solemnly.
“Good. Now, do you remember, a long time ago, you asked me why you don’t have a mother?”
He shook his head.
“Well, you did. And I said it was because she died.”
Robbie thought about that for a minute, then nodded.
“Well, I said tha
t because I believed she had. Because that’s what I’d been told. But the people who told me were wrong. She isn’t dead. You do have a mother.”
Robbie simply gazed at Hank, his expression uncertain.
“What happened,” Hank continued, “was that when you were a tiny baby your mother got hurt. And she had to be in a hospital.”
“Like where Natalie works?”
“Uh-huh. Like where Natalie works. And while she was getting better, some people she didn’t know were taking care of you for her.”
“How come you weren’t taking care of me?”
“Because I hadn’t adopted you yet. It was before you were my son.”
“When I was just a real little baby.”
“Yes. Now I need you to concentrate very hard on this next part, okay?”
“’Kay.”
“All right. These people who were looking after you made a big mistake. They mixed you up with another baby—one who didn’t have a mother. And that was when you came to live with me. So by the time your mother got out of the hospital, and went to get you from the people, you weren’t there anymore.”
“’Cuz I was here?”
“Exactly.”
“But didn’t they tell her I was here?”
“No. It was such a big mistake that they didn’t know where you were. She started looking for you, though. And it took her a long, long time, but she finally found you.”
“She did?” Robbie said, his eyes wide.
“Yes, she did,” Hank said softly.
He glanced at Natalie then, and she could see what this was costing him emotionally.
She swallowed hard. For three years there’d been just the two of them. Then she’d come along and...
But she had every right. Robbie was her son. She only wished—
Before she could finish that thought, Hank was saying, “Robbie, Natalie is your mother. She came here because she finally learned where you were.”
Robbie’s glance flickered to her, then he focused on Hank again, his thumb sneaking into his mouth.
Natalie’s heart began pounding, and the words she’d thought of to say at this point vanished from her mind.
“Robbie?” she finally said. “Robbie, I loved you so much that I spent three long years searching for you. Trying to find you every way I could.”
When he merely buried his head against Hank’s chest, her throat grew tight.
“Robbie, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Hank murmured. “This is good. It’s wonderful, in fact. Now you’ve got both a father and mother to love you.”
“I don’t want a mother,” he whispered fiercely. “I want Mrs. Chevy to come home.”
“She will,” Hank said, resting his chin on Robbie’s head and cuddling him. “We explained that before she left, remember? She’s just going to help take care of her daughter’s baby for a little while, then she’ll be back with us again.”
“Really?” Robbie shifted enough that he could look at Hank’s face.
“Yes. Really.”
“But where will she sleep?”
“In her room, like always.”
“With Natalie?”
“No, Natalie’s only using Mrs. Chevalier’s room while she’s gone.”
“Then where will she sleep?”
“Natalie, you mean.”
He nodded.
“Well, Natalie isn’t going to be staying with us much longer. Remember I told you she lives a long, long way from here?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, she’ll be going back there soon.”
“When Mrs. Chevy comes home?”
“We’re not sure exactly when. But soon.”
“Then she’s not my mother.”
“Why do you say that?”
He slowly shrugged.
“Robbie, she is your mother. And she loves you very much.”
“No! If she loved me she’d live here. With me.”
“Look, I realize this is tough to understand. But—”
Robbie pushed hard against Hank’s chest and slid off his lap.
“Wait,” Hank said, reaching for his arm.
He jerked it away and raced into the house.
“Oh, no,” Natalie murmured.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want your bedtime story?” Hank asked, tucking Robbie’s sheet around him.
“No,” he said, still refusing to meet Hank’s gaze.
“You mean no, you’re not sure, or no, you don’t want it?”
Hank smiled; Robbie didn’t.
“Don’t want it,” he said sullenly.
“Then do you want Natalie to come kiss you good-night?”
“No.”
Hank rested his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Robbie, I’m really sorry you’re so upset. But I think it’s mostly because this came as such a big surprise. I was upset at first, too.”
At last, Robbie looked at him. “Really?”
“Yes. But then, once I got to know Natalie... You like her, don’t you?”
Robbie fiercely shook his head.
“Well, you liked her yesterday. And the day before. You even still liked her when we drove her to work this afternoon.”
“I don’t now!”
“Well...maybe you will again tomorrow.”
“No.”
Hank ruffled Robbie’s hair, then kissed his forehead.
“You want me to check for monsters under the bed?”
“No.”
“In the closet?”
“No.”
“All right. But I’ll leave the hall light on, okay?” he added, absolutely certain he wouldn’t get a “no” to that.
What he got was silence.
“Well...good night, then. And if you wake up later, I’ll be here. I’m not going to work.”
He never called in sick unless he felt as though he was dying. Still, he figured there should be exceptions to most rules. And he didn’t know whether Robbie or Natalie was in worse shape, but he knew it would be a bad idea to leave them alone together tonight.
After walking out of Robbie’s room, he simply stood in the hall, wondering what on earth he should say to Natalie.
Robbie hadn’t really decided he hated her, of course. He was just confused as hell. And according to that well-worn copy of Your Three-Year-Old’s Behavior, confusion led to frustration—which, in turn, led to expressions of anger.
Man, oh, man, that book was sure bang on in this instance. But how could a little kid be expected to understand a situation like this one? Or accept that his mother loved him, yet was still going back to Guatemala?
From Robbie’s perspective, things were black-and-white. If Natalie intended to leave it meant she didn’t even like him, let alone love him. So he sure wasn’t going to admit he liked her.
Wearily shaking his head, Hank thought back to the beginning of all this. To when Natalie was “the enemy.” To when his fantasy had been that Robbie would reject her and she’d go home.
Things had sure changed. Now he was trying to come up with a way of making her feel better because Robbie had rejected her. And when it came to the part about her going home...
Well, he’d done a full one-eighty on that. If there was any way of convincing her not to...
Telling himself only idiots kept banging their heads against brick walls, he looked back in at Robbie and discovered he was already asleep.
The emotional upheaval, following on the heels of a few hours hard play with Gary, must have really drained him.
Hank closed the bedroom door, then started for the living room. When he reached it, Natalie was sitting in the gathering darkness.
She glanced at him, so clearly morose that he could almost feel her distress, and said, “How is he?”
“Totally wiped and already dead to the world. I doubt he’ll move a muscle until morning.”
He realized that didn’t answer the question she’d asked, but he needed a minute to ease into this.
“Bummer of a day, huh?” he said, sinking onto the couch beside her without bothering to turn on a light. The darkness seemed fitting, somehow.
“First Emma and her grandmother, then Robbie,” he continued. “I guess we should have left telling him until tomorrow.”
“Maybe we should have left it forever.”
“What?”
“Maybe I should have simply waited until Audrey came back, then gone home. Should have been content with seeing that he’s happy and healthy and...”
She paused, making him suspect her throat was too tight to go on, then said, “He hates me, Hank.”
“No, he doesn’t hate you. He—”
“Well, he doesn’t want me for a mother. You heard him. He wants Audrey back.”
“Natalie, he didn’t say he doesn’t want you for a mother. He just doesn’t understand how you can be his mother if you don’t live with him. That’s what he said.
“As for Audrey, she’s been around for longer than he can remember. She’s like a grandmother to him. And...look, we knew this would take a while. But his reaction’s only temporary. He needs time to get used to the idea, that’s all.”
Shaking her head, she said, “I didn’t realize it would be so hard. That he’d feel so threatened. I just...”
“You’ve just had a hell of a day,” he said quietly.
He hesitated for a long moment, telling himself not to do anything stupid. But she was so damned unhappy that he finally put his arm around her and drew her close, saying, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she murmured against his chest. “Robbie won’t want to come to Guatemala. And if he does he’ll be miserable there without you.”
“Natalie...”
He tried to think of what else to say, but couldn’t make his mind work right. He was too distracted by her soft warmth against him and the faint, sweet scent of her perfume.
It made him think of a garden filled with exotic flowers, their scent mingling with the scent of her.
“Natalie...” he said again.
This time, she eased away a little and gazed at him, her eyes darker than the night.
“Hank,” she whispered, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He wasn’t the least bit sure what she meant. Was she talking about Robbie, or about what she was doing right this instant—with him?
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