Yesterday's Promise

by Cheryl St. John

  “Jacques never warmed my bed. Yes, we loved each other and were married, but we never had sex. I just wasn’t his type.”

  A confused frown tightened Jakob’s forehead. She’d have to spell it out. “Jakob, he was gay. We never had sex. You are the only man who has ever... ‘warmed my bed’.”

  Jakob pointed in the general direction of the windows overlooking the street. “What about Sean?”

  Willa crossed her arms and matched his lean against the counter. She tilted her head to one side and arched her eyebrow. She’d nearly told him Sean was his many times, but the moment had never felt right. If there was such a thing as a right moment for something like this. She doubted the appropriateness now, but had jumped in with both feet. Jakob just needed to catch up with her.

  Watching Jakob’s face, she counted silently. By three the wrinkles smoothed from his forehead. At four his eyes widened. At five he straightened. “Sean is my son?”

  She waited until his smile grew and his eyes flashed with green fire. “Of course he is.”

  “You’re sure?”

  Laughter burst from Willa. “Pretty sure.”

  Jakob gathered her close and spun them in a slow circle. “I’ve imagined what it would be like to have a child with you. Sharing in the care, watching them grow. I missed too much of that with my girls. So I pretended Sean was mine. I even thought I could see my brother in the shape of his eyes or some way he moved his hands. I have a son.”

  “To go with your three beautiful daughters.”

  “At least two,” he mumbled. “I’m not so sure about Elyse.”

  The admission stopped Willa’s gentle sway. “Jakob?”

  His sad grin answered her. “Nothing I can prove. Yet. We weren’t exactly intimate after Deirdre was born. It’s a can of worms I don’t care to open right now. Especially since you’re here. No matter though, she is my daughter just as Sean is Jacques’ son.”

  Blinking back the sting of tears, Willa took his hand. He’d never mentioned his suspicions before. There was so much of his life she didn’t know or understand. They’d need to be patient with each other. In a way, this was a new relationship for them, one built on layers of the past. Through it all, one thing never changed. “I love you, Mr. Spencer.”

  Their kiss was sweet and promised so much between them. Willa sighed when he leaned back.

  “Does he know?”

  Sean remembered so little of Jacques, and idolized his papa in many ways. Discovering Jakob was his biological father shouldn’t harm that connection, and might solidify the memories the three of them created on Jakob’s trips to Denver. But she hadn’t found the courage to start that discussion. And now that Sean had a baby of his own on the way, she feared the knowledge might be too much of a burden. “No, I’ve never told him.”

  Jakob’s nod and the softening of his gaze showed his understanding. “The time will come, sweetheart, when we’ll tell him together.”

  Relief settled around her. She was always strongest with Jakob at her side. Maybe she was a coward in truth. Sean should have had the opportunity to grow up with more than just the phantom of a father’s love. With unusual clarity, she saw now she’d been afraid to lose those precious memories of Jacques herself, greedy to keep both Jacques and Jakob in her life. The past would always be with her. Changing it wasn’t possible.

  Jakob drew her back into his embrace and kissed her. Deep, lingering, dizzying. Some tiny, still functioning part of her mind reminded her that she hadn’t yet made the bed. At least the mattress wasn’t covered with boxes.

  A sharp triple beep startled her and she took a quick step back. Jakob lifted his gaze to the ceiling and tugged a small pager from his pocket. He glanced at the display and groaned. “Marguerite. Damn it.”

  The woman had an uncanny knack of spoiling happy moments. Willa ran her fingers through her hair. She’d need to become accustomed to broken stolen moments.

  “I need to call her.”

  “My phone hasn’t been connected yet.”

  ‘I’ll head over to the Wild Card. That will provide good background noise. Willa, my darling, I hate to leave you alone here your first night.”

  She grabbed his lapels and stood on tiptoe to press a quick kiss to his frown. “There are many more nights in our future. Get going before she gets crankier than she probably already is.”

  He gave a nod and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers. Willa pressed into the caress, savoring the promise in his touch. And his kiss.

  Lips melded to hers, he backed them until he reached the door. “I’ll be back soon. We’ll look to the future, my love. Our future.”

  Late Summer 1992

  Aspen Gold Lodge

  Willa rearranged the two small photo frames she’d placed on a shelf in Jakob’s expansive office. Both contained pictures she’d taken to use as inspiration for the landscapes the graced the entrance to the lodge. She hoped that soon she’d be able to expose the photos tucked behind the landscapes. One of Sean as a young boy, the other of Sean with his wife and son.

  Attempting to calm her jitters, Willa left her fidgeting and moved to the windows overlooking the Lake. Just beyond the bandshell, midmorning sunlight glinted off the calm blue water. The distant mountains failed to bring the usual sense of peace to her. Even the soft tones of Jakob’s favorite John Denver album failed to ease the feeling of doom lodged in her chest.

  Marguerite had succumbed to cancer three weeks ago, and now Jakob met with a slew of attorneys in the adjacent board room. Marguerite’s bitterness had grown like the cancer inside her, and Willa had no doubt she’d found a way to mire her will in double talk and conditions.

  Jakob needed to not let his dead wife’s machinations color the next hour. Sean and Marie would be here soon.

  She’d had to skirt the questions as to why they needed to meet at the lodge. As he’d gotten older, Sean had tolerated Jakob’s occasional presence, but had never truly warmed to the man. Today even that small acceptance could be ruined. Or the direction of their relationship could turn toward a happier ending. She just couldn’t guess what was going to happen when they told Sean who his real father was.

  She moved back to the desk, sat, and stared at the shoebox she’d used to carry the photos. And a few important pieces of paper. Sean’s birth certificate. The only physical proof of his parentage.

  A rumble of voices sounded from the boardroom. Willa clutched the armrests, digging her fingers into the soft, worn leather. The meeting was over. She glanced at the clock. But there wouldn’t be time to discuss the outcome. Sean was due any minute. Straightening her shoulders, she rose and carried the shoebox with her to the seating area before the window, placed the box on the coffee table and waited.

  Jakob rushed into the office. “Andi alerted me. Sean’s coming up the stairs. Andi will keep Jackson occupied.” He paused and for a brief moment a soft smile erased the worry from his expression. “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

  No. “As much as I can be, I suppose.”

  The intercom buzzed. “Mr. And Mrs. Samuels are here.”

  “Send them in, Andi.” Willa matched Jakob’s deep breath and stared as the wide, carved teak doors opened and Sean and Marie entered.

  Sean wore a frown and concentrated on Willa, but his wife glanced around the office with wide-eyed delight. She’d never been up here before and the room was impressive. Sean tugged on her hand and Marie brought her focus to Willa.

  Gesturing with his free hand, Sean asked, “What’s going on, Mom? Why are we here?”

  She’d gone over this moment hundreds of times in the last hour and still didn’t know how to open the discussion. “Come sit down.”

  Sean and Marie sat on the couch, with Willa sitting in her favorite wingback chair. Jakob joined them, but remained standing. The weight of three pairs of eyes trained on her, increased the dread until it settled deep in Willa’s bones. There was no way this would turn out well.
She’d waited too long.

  Jakob cleared his throat. “Willa, do you want—?

  “No. It’s my responsibility.” She reached for the shoebox and retrieved the birth certificate. Holding the folded page against her chest, she held Sean’s gaze. “I should have told you this long, long ago. But I didn’t want you to be angry or hurt. I wanted you to remember your papa as the good man he was.”

  Sean’s eyes narrowed but he remained silent.

  “There is never a right time for something like this. I pray you’ll understand.” She held out the certificate to him.

  Sean took the paper and, without losing eye contact with her, unfolded the sheet. After a long glare at Jakob, he lowered his gaze and read.

  Willa dared not even breathe.

  Silent, Sean handed the birth certificate to his wife. She gasped and her gaze flitted from Jakob to Willa, back to the paper and then to Sean. He took the certificate from her and slowly rose to his feet.

  Features tight with anger, his hands shook as he began to crumple the thick paper. Willa rose with her hand extended. She couldn’t allow him to destroy the...evidence. “No. Don’t.”

  Taking a deep breath, Sean closed his eyes a moment then returning his heated glare to Jakob, refolded the sheet and methodically returned it to the shoebox. “So, an important document such as this rates nothing more than shoebox storage? Aren’t I important enough to rate at least a locked file drawer?”

  He focused on Willa. Her heart stuttered at the hurt swirling with the anger in his eyes. In the name of protecting him from... from what? Knowing his real father? How could that have hurt him while growing up?

  “Sean.” The authority in Jakob’s tone drew Sean’s focus from Willa. She released a breath. “I didn’t know this until you were grown. Your mother did what she felt was best for both of us. You were, and are, foremost in her mind and heart.” Jakob visibly struggled to relax his shoulders but his hands remained fisted at his sides.

  “Gee. Thanks, Mom.”

  Willa held up one hand and thankfully Jakob remained silent. Waves of emotion rolled off him, swirling with the anger radiating from their son. She needed to diffuse the situation. Now. “Sean, I know you can’t understand how difficult it’s been—”

  “To keep silent? Sure, Mom. I’m sure that was so rough on you. Marie, let’s go. I don’t want to hear any more of this bullshit.”

  Jakob took a step forward. “Running away won’t change anything. Sean, I am your father.”

  Sharp laughter burst from Sean. “Oh, that’s just great. Playing the Darth Vader card? That’s beneath you, Spencer.”

  Willa touched his arm and tried again. “Honey, please, can’t we talk?”

  Sean shook off her hand. “You really don’t want to hear what I have to say right now.”

  “Sean, don’t speak to your mother in that manner.” Jakob’s command froze their son in the act of assisting his wife to stand. He whirled and wrapped both fists in the lapels of Jakob’s blazer. “Listen, old man...”

  “Daddy?” The young voice from the doorway stopped whatever Sean had planned to say. The interruption came at the right moment, but their six-year- old grandson didn’t need to see his father in such a threatening posture.

  Before Willa acted, Marie moved to Sean’s side and covered his hands with hers, tugging gently until she released Jakob’s jacket. Eyes wide, she jerked her head toward the doorway.

  Sean drew in a long breath. His face relaxed to a bland, neutral expression as he turned toward Jackson. “Yes, son?”

  The not-so-subtle accent on ‘son’ made Willa wince. She’d royally messed up this entire situation. Her personal fears had taken precedence over the needs of her child to know his father. Dear lord. She had no idea how to make this right.

  Before Jackson answered, Jakob’s secretary rested her hands on the boy’s shoulders and with an apologetic grimace, guided him away and shut the door.

  Focusing again on Jakob, Sean took a step back and shook his head. “We’re leaving. I won’t be back. Marie.” He held out his hand to his wife.

  Desperate for understanding, Willa clutched Sean’s arm when he passed. “We need to talk. Don’t leave.”

  He stood stiff-backed but spoke to the floor. “Mom, I’m furious with you. With him. With everything. You don’t want to talk to me right now. You really don’t. No, don’t say anything. You’ll only make it worse. If that’s possible.”

  Marie leaned close and pressed a kiss to Willa’s cheek. “I’ll talk to him,” she whispered. “Just give him a little time.”

  Time is what had caused this blow up. If she’d introduced her son to his father when they’d first moved back to the states, how different would today be? She’d been protecting them both. Or so she believed. Just the hint of a tie between Jakob and Sean back then could have ruined Jakob.

  The reason she ran away to Paris in the first place. Willa closed her eyes and collapsed onto her chair. The warmth of her tears trailed down her cheeks. Jakob knelt at her side, took her hand, and remained silent. “Jakob, what are we going to do?”

  He handed her a tissue. “He has my temper, doesn’t he?”

  Willa’s watery laugh started her. Bless the man for finding a way to redirect her self-recriminating thoughts. “He does. He blows up and holds on to that anger for a time. I don’t know if he consciously works through issues but eventually the anger is gone and he’s my sweet Sean again. I can only pray this time he will be our Sean.”

  A knock sounded on the door.

  Hope sprang to life in Willa as Jakob called, “Enter.”

  The tall door opened slowly and Jackson peeked around the corner. “Grandma?”

  Dashing away her tears, Willa waved the boy over. “Jackson, come on in.”

  He dragged his feet dragged across the carpet. Face scrunched into a scowl, he lifted his glare to Jakob. “Did you make my grandma cry?”

  Willa hurried to reassure him. “Of course not, honey. I’m just sad that your daddy said you had to go back home.”

  “Me, too. I don’t wanna go. Ryder and me were gonna build a fort. Now I can’t. I gotta go home.” His lower lip quivered.

  Jakob rose and took a seat in a nearby chair. Willa opened her arms and Jackson climbed onto her lap, resting his head against her shoulder. She rubbed circles on his back but watched Jakob as she spoke. “I’m sure you’ll be back to play soon. Ryder will wait.”

  Jack straightened and nodded. “He better. I made this for you. I wanted to put it on your refrigerator for a surprise though.”

  He handed her a slightly crumpled sheet of paper. He’d drawn stick figures all over the surface in a wild array of colors. Bless Andi for keeping coloring supplies at her desk. Will held the picture up so Jakob could see it. “Isn’t this beautiful?”

  The boy frowned at Jakob, who remained silent but nodded. Jackson snuggled into Willa’s arms. “It’s just for you, Grandma. He can look at it, but it’s yours.”

  Jakob winked at her then turned his head to gaze out the window.

  “What are you gonna do with it, Grandma?”

  “I will keep it safe until I get home, then put it on my fridge so you can see it next time you come to visit me. Let’s see. How about I put it in this shoebox for right now.”

  “That’d be cool. Mom has a shoebox with my stuff in it, too. You can fold it so it fits. That’s okay.” Matching his words, Jackson took his drawing and slipped from her lap. Kneeling beside the coffee table, he carefully lined up the edges of the paper and folded it twice. Then he stood on tiptoe, lifted his arm over the shoebox and dropped it.”

  “Good aim, Jackson,” Willa said when the picture landed in the box, covering the birth certificate.

  Marie appeared in the open doorway. “Time to go, Jack. Your dad’s getting the car.”

  Happiness fled from Jackson’s face. “All right. Bye Grandma. Don’t forget about my picture.”

  She p
ulled him into a hug. “Never. Now say good-bye to Mr. Spencer. Don’t keep your dad waiting.”

  A stubborn pout, so like his father’s, settled on Jackson’s face. He didn’t look at Jakob. “Good-bye, sir. Thank you for letting me draw with Mrs. Andi.”

  “Good-bye, Jackson. See you soon.”

  The boy shrugged, gave Willa a sloppy kiss on the cheek then ran from the room.

  Marie closed the door.

  The action seemed so final, so (something), tears threatened Willa’s composure. Was this the last time she’d see her son, or her grandson? How had good intentions turned into horrible confrontations and anger? She sniffed back the emotions and the tears.

  Jakob leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. “We’ve got time, sweetheart. Sean is a good man. He’ll come around.”

  “I hope you’re right. I’ve never seen him so angry. I’ll give him time. Whatever he needs.” Telling herself to believe her own words, she put the lid on the shoebox. What was done was done. Once again she would focus on the future. “What happened with the lawyers?”

  Jakob’s head dropped and he stared at the floor. “When I said we’ve got time, it wasn’t just a platitude. I am unable to acknowledge him as my son.” He lifted a tortured expression to her. “Or you. I can’t marry you. I can’t even affirm our relationship.”

  A near physical pain filled her chest. “What? Why?”

  His gaze skittered to the windows. “I can’t say.”

  “Jakob, that doesn’t make any sense. Why can’t you tell me?”

  He remained silent and finally returned his focus to her. Willa attempted to read his expression and the dull, dark mossy green of his eyes. She didn’t understand. Wait. Maybe she did.

  “This has to do with Marguerite’s will.”

  He shrugged one shoulder.

  “She’s done something horrible. She’s still controlling you, isn’t she?”

  Jakob began to nod. “I can’t say.”