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Child by Chance

Page 22

by Tara Taylor Quinn


  Without warning his little arms were stretched around her middle, squeezing tight. “Thanks,” he mumbled into her stomach.

  And just as quickly he was gone.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  SHERMAN GOT TALIA’S voice mail Friday evening on his way to pick up Kent from his session at the Stand. Jason and his mother and little sister were going to be leaving for San Francisco in the morning, and as much as Sherman needed to hear what Talia had to tell him—her voice had sounded pretty urgent, while assuring him that it wasn’t an emergency—he wanted to be there to meet with Jason’s mother, Belinda, after the session and firm up some arrangements for the boys to see each other over spring break.

  He’d made a promise to Kent.

  As it turned out, Jason’s mother had arranged to have Kent spend the night with them there at the Stand, assuming Sherman gave his permission. They were having a movie night in the main building, and there was an extra twin bed in the little bungalow Jason and his mother and sister had called home for the past few months. And Kent had clearance to stay at the secure shelter.

  Belinda’s parents had purchased a used car for her, which she would be using to drive her small family to San Francisco. She offered to bring Kent home the following morning before they left. She wanted to see where her son would be staying for the week of spring break.

  “Can I, Dad? Please?” Kent begged as they all stood in the hallway outside the room where Kent had his sessions. Sara was there, too, but remained silent in the background.

  “Yeah, Mr. Malone, please?” Jason asked without a hint of the timidity the boy had shown around Sherman the entire time he’d spent the night at their house.

  Seeing Sara nod in the background, Sherman agreed. On one condition. “You need to be home by nine in the morning,” he said. “We’re playing golf.”

  “Come on, let’s go!” Kent said to Jason, and then turned back. “Thanks, Dad.”

  Sherman gave Belinda directions to his house, agreed to see her at eight o’clock the following day and thanked Sara, as he did every single night when he collected his son from the Stand.

  He walked out, infused with his son’s enthusiasm. At least he told himself it was Kent’s excitement he was feeling as he turned the BMW in the direction of the beach...

  * * *

  SHE’D TAKEN A long walk on the beach before settling in for the night. Sherman would call after Kent was in bed, and she’d needed to clear her mind.

  She couldn’t keep doing this—living on the fringes of a life she couldn’t have. The point was to build a new life. To leave her past behind, not live a slave to it.

  And that was what she was becoming with Sherman—and Kent, too.

  She’d never turn her back on her son. As long as she could find a way to be at least a little part of his life, she would be.

  But she could no longer be...whatever she was...with his father. It was time to be completely honest with herself. She was in love with the man. Being his clandestine sex partner wasn’t enough. It was like saying to herself that she wasn’t good enough to have it all.

  So, it didn’t work with Sherman. There’d be another man out there for her. One who could handle her past.

  Because it wasn’t just Sherman’s career keeping them apart. He might believe it was. He might just want her to believe it. But the truth was, if he loved her, really loved her, he’d find a way to make things work for them.

  She had no idea what that way would be. But she knew, as her hair blew around her face in the early-evening breeze, as she listened to a little boy calling out to his father on the beach, that the way would exist for her.

  Someday. With someone.

  She’d left the past behind. She’d come home. And found herself again.

  In one small hug from her ten-year-old biological son.

  * * *

  SHE SAW HIS car in her driveway before she noticed him, standing on the beach up by her deck, watching her. With her sandals in her hand and her white eyelet ankle-length skirt billowing in the breeze, Talia felt...healthy...as she walked toward the man who’d given her back her sexuality. She would always be thankful to him for that.

  He was walking out to meet her before she realized that he shouldn’t be there. Not yet. His step was easy. Not filled with alarm.

  “Where’s Kent?” she asked as soon as he was within hearing distance.

  “Spending Jason’s last night at the Stand with him. They’re having movie night.”

  His smile was filled with promise. Sexy promise. The second his responsibilities were met, he came running to her.

  Would always come running to her.

  Because she meant something to him. A lot. Just not enough.

  She wanted more than moments. She wanted a lifetime.

  “Your phone call sounded serious.” He’d reached her. He slipped an arm around her waist, and Talia leaned into him. Memorizing the feel of his warmth supporting her.

  “Kent told me something today,” she said, focusing on the moment instead of the lifetime. Because she’d promised Kent she’d talk to his dad before she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t settle for less.

  “He asked me to talk to you about it.”

  “Okay.” His leather loafers remained steady on the sand.

  “He...found some emails. On an external hard drive. He’s afraid he’s going to be in trouble for reading them.”

  “He might be. What emails?”

  “They were his mother’s. Between her and Alan Klasky. He thinks, from reading them, that Alan was her boyfriend.”

  Talia watched him while she spoke, memorizing everything. The hair that was long enough to fall naturally across his forehead. The strength in his jaw. Lips that were masculine and generous, too.

  “Alan was the man she was meeting that last night, wasn’t he? That reporter who goes for sensationalism rather than truth.”

  “Yeah.” His frown didn’t detract from his good looks at all. It added to them. Hinted at the well of emotion buried inside him. “I can’t imagine why Brooke would have been emailing with him. As far as I knew, that night was the first time she’d actually met with him. Believe me, Alan Klasky was a guy we made a point to steer clear of.”

  “I wondered if maybe he was blackmailing her. Kent seemed to think this guy had something to do with her accident.”

  Because Kent hadn’t been told they’d found the driver. He didn’t know his mother had committed suicide. Not until an official ruling had been made.

  “I need to see those emails.”

  Wrapping her hands around her arms, she said, “He said they’re on his mom’s external hard drive.”

  “I had no idea he knew how to access that.”

  “He said he found it last summer. Did you have someone staying with him at the house while you were at work?”

  He nodded, his look intense. “The daughter of a guy I work with,” he said. “She was home from college.”

  “And didn’t you say his problems really escalated at the beginning of this school year?”

  He nodded. Watching her. She could almost see the facts adding up in his mind.

  “Come with me.”

  “What?”

  “He’s gone for the night. Come with me to my house. Help me find the emails.” He held out his hand.

  The emails and whatever was in them. She loved him. She couldn’t send him off to face that alone.

  After running inside to grab her purse and lock up, Talia placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her away.

  * * *

  THE FIRST EMAIL WAS dated almost a year before Brooke’s death.

  Brooke, so unexpected, meeting you. Thank you.

  More followed. Just one-liners of two people keepin
g in touch. No hint of something more.

  Sitting at his desk with his wife’s external hard drive plugged into his computer, Sherman read the emails as though reading a newspaper. They were interesting. Things he should know.

  But they didn’t contain anything personal.

  Until he came to the one dated six months before his wife’s death. Talia, who’d pulled up Brooke’s chair, was reading right beside him.

  I’m going to be at the governor’s fund-raiser this weekend. Sherman will be home with Kent.

  And the reply.

  I have a room. Can you stay all night?

  He felt her hand on his arm. Talia’s hand. A gentle touch. Keeping him in the chair. Reading.

  More of the same followed. Clandestine meetings. A sentence or two along the way expressing their surprise, their disbelief, in the connection they’d found together.

  He and Brooke hadn’t been meant to be married. After meeting Talia he’d understood that. Apparently Brooke had figured it out much sooner than he had. They’d thought being so alike would keep them together. Instead, they’d each been attracted to someone more their opposite...

  So what had kept her there? Kent?

  There were more emails. He had to get through them. Had to know everything Kent knew. To know what his son had read. He had to know what had happened the night that his wife had apparently chosen to die. His hand fell off the mouse he’d been using to scroll.

  “I thought...that whole last year...we didn’t have sex. At all. I thought it was me.”

  Talia didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. Just having her there helped.

  He scrolled. Opened another email. And then another.

  While nothing was overt, Brooke had clearly been having sex with Alan. In her own office. While Sherman had been right down the hall in his.

  I’m sorry for pushing you out so quickly this morning. You know I have my lunch meeting with Sherman every day.

  How could she have done this? What if Klasky had been seen coming from her office?

  Maybe he had. Growing warm, then cold, Sherman considered the possibility that the entire firm had known about the affair.

  But no, they wouldn’t have stood for it. Personal integrity was the number one job qualification in that firm. Their goal was to get voters to trust them. To trust their choices and to believe what they had to say. To rely on them to steer them through all the political backstabbing to arrive at the truth...

  Roland thinks I’m courting you to tell our side of the story from now on. That was a close one. Don’t come to my office again.

  All he had to do was keep reading. The answers were all there.

  Talia glanced at him as he paused. Did he look as foolish, as pathetic, as he felt?

  I need to end things.

  The email was from Brooke to Klasky.

  What? Fingers moving more quickly, Sherman read on.

  I made a mistake. A big one. I love my family. My son. I almost screwed it all up. I want out.

  Klasky’s reply read, Meet me tonight. We’ll talk. You’re just getting cold feet. You’re my sexy kitten. You don’t think I can just sit back and know that you’re going to be purring in his bed again, do you?

  The threat was there. Veiled, but there.

  Still it didn’t make sense.

  Until he read the next email.

  I love you, Alan. You know that. But I made promises. I married a man. I have a life with him. Debts and savings and a home we own together. We adopted a child together. Our futures are planned. I won’t be able to live with myself if I just walk away from those obligations. I also can’t not see you one more time. I love you so much...

  The email was sent fifteen minutes before Brooke had left their house for the last time.

  * * *

  “SHE WENT TO meet him that night to break up with him.” Sherman had offered to make dinner for Talia. He was scrambling eggs. She was making toast—finding her way around his kitchen and promising herself she’d forget the experience of being at home with him just as soon as it was over.

  “And was so devastated that on the way home, when she saw that car coming at her, she just let it...”

  He was standing at the stove, but no longer stirring the eggs. They were starting to congeal in the pan.

  Taking hold of his hand, she helped him stir. And then moved away to butter the toast. He got out plates. Silverware. She found jelly in the refrigerator. Together they moved to the table.

  And she didn’t know where to sit. Didn’t know which chair was Kent’s. Sherman’s. Or Brooke’s.

  This wasn’t her home. She would never be his wife.

  Talia needed to be a wife.

  And a mother.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “BROOKE WAS EXACTLY opposite of the way we lived.”

  They’d finished their light dinner. Sherman knew he had to get up, maybe do the dishes and then take Talia home. He couldn’t hold her hostage there in his home.

  But he didn’t want her to leave.

  He wanted to take her to his bed. To make wild and crazy love with her until he forgot any ugliness existed. And then to sleep beside her until morning.

  Just one night. That was all he asked for.

  “In what way?” she asked, seemingly in no hurry to go. He knew she had homework to do. Friday nights were reserved for homework.

  “We chose to live deliberately.” He tried to explain a way of life that had seemed like the surest bet to happiness. “We didn’t let ourselves be swayed by the moment. We considered every response, no matter how big or small, weighing them against the big-picture goals that we’d laid out together.”

  He didn’t get it.

  “It sounds like you were trying to make yourselves live solely according to your heads.” Talia’s soft words fell like boulders. “Brooke found out that she couldn’t shut out her heart, no matter how hard she tried.”

  And she had tried. The emails had made that clear.

  “And she couldn’t control it, either.”

  Right. But the human experience granted one the right to control his or her life. He’d made the choice to exercise that right. Every moment of every day.

  Back in college, Brooke had made the same choice.

  Thoughts pushed at the back of Sherman’s mind. He shook his head. He had to stay the course. It was what he’d always done.

  It was easy to slow down and consider one’s choices when the choices were easy. The critical moments, the hard times, were when he most needed to think. Not just react. Years of practicing self-control held him in good stead.

  Sherman cleared the table. Did the dishes. Talia helped. Then she picked up her purse, and he kissed her. Just leaned over in the middle of his kitchen with his hands still wet from the sink and kissed her. Long. Adding more pressure as he went along.

  He needed her. In his bed. With shaking, damp hands he lifted the white shirt that had been teasing him all night, and kept lifting until it was over her head and gone from his sight. Her bra was next. He took it off quickly. Before he could think. Before she could.

  “Are you going to stop me?” He needed to know.

  “No.”

  “You need this, too?”

  Her gaze wasn’t clear. Or open. “Yeah.” He took her at her word and left the rest.

  * * *

  TALIA WOKE AT three in the morning, naked, in Sherman Paulson’s bed. In his arms. If her son had been down the hall, she might have thought she’d died and gone to heaven.

  But if Kent were down the hall, she wouldn’t be there.

  She was Sherman’s Alan Klasky. The person he had sex with in secret. Never to be acknowledged or legitimized.

  Because he’d made promise
s. Adopted a child. Had obligations.

  He’d said it himself. He and Brooke walked the same path. Except that Sherman had never even told her that Kent was adopted like Brooke had told Klasky. Proving...what?

  But at least that answered one of her questions. Kent obviously knew.

  So did her son ever wonder about her? Was he at all curious about the woman who’d given birth to him?

  Sherman moved next to her.

  “You awake?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  She wanted to make love with him one more time. For the last time. “Can you take me home, please?”

  “Of course.”

  Without another word, he dressed, grabbed his keys and turned the BMW back toward the ocean.

  When they arrived he walked her to her door, waited for her to be safely inside and then, hands in his pockets, he stared at her. She stared back. She loved him. But she couldn’t be who he needed.

  Seeming to get that, he nodded, turned and left.

  Talia was pretty sure they’d just said goodbye forever.

  * * *

  SHERMAN DIDN’T GO back to bed. He walked over to the calendar on his refrigerator, saw the list of chores for Saturday and set to work.

  Everything was going to be fine. Things always looked darkest before the dawn and all that.

  He’d already known he’d lost Brooke. Even before the accident. Now he knew why.

  The sun would shine Saturday. He and Kent would go golfing. He’d do some business. And after they left the course, he’d take his boy out to eat wherever he wanted to go. Maybe they’d head to the batting cages after that. Kent would be sad, knowing that Jason had left. Maybe they’d stop by the animal rescue and adopt a dog.

 

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