What He Wants

by Jessie Gussman

  That was probably true. The judge wouldn’t have given her as harsh of a sentence. But it was a gamble Torque had taken. And lost.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he finally said.

  “No, you’re right. My sentence wouldn’t have been as long. My parents have money, and when I got out, they would have showered me with it. I wouldn’t have the struggle you have right now.” She put her hand on his arm. “That’s why I want to help.”

  He breathed out heavily and stared into the darkness, as though pulling the words he needed from deep inside him. “If I take your money... If I let you help...” He hooked a hand around his neck and twisted away, before coming back, leaning down, coming closer. Holding his hands up, he said, fierce but soft, “I need to build whatever I have with these.” He shook his hands. “It needs to be mine. It can’t be ours. There is no ‘us.’ I have to do it.” He slapped his chest.

  His agony tore at her soul. She forced her words out. “Plenty of men build businesses with money they borrow from the bank.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “They pay the bank back. The bank doesn’t give them money just because they did a good deed. It’s not a good deed anymore if someone pays you for it.”

  She saw his point, but it still hurt that he was pushing her away so harshly. “I’ll give you a loan. We’ll have a contract drawn up, and you’ll pay me back with interest.”

  He stood staring down at her, his eyes dark and unreadable under the brim of his cap.

  “It’s pride that’s keeping you from accepting.”

  “Yeah. Didn’t have much of anything else for the last ten years. Pride. Faith.” He opened his mouth like he was going to add something else but then closed it.

  “Pride, faith, and what?” she prompted.

  He shook his head then answered, “Pride, faith, and a dream that ended up being a mirage.”

  AFTER TOSSING AND TURNING in his old bed in his gram’s small trailer, Torque got up before the sun and walked up the hill to the big brick mansion.

  Yesterday, Cassidy was only half-right. Pride was part of it. But he’d figured out as he tossed and turned that fear was the other part. He’d spent all those years in prison being beaten down, told he was the dregs of society, no-good, a blight on his family’s name, and all kinds of other things. Even though he hadn’t even done what he was in there for, it was hard, almost impossible to come out with even a ghost of his former confidence.

  When he’d been seventeen, he’d dreamed that he’d start his own business, be successful. So successful that someday he’d walk up bold as brass to Cassidy’s father’s house, knock on the door, and ask permission to court his daughter. Court her. He wasn’t interested in dating. He was interested in marriage. That was his dream.

  It would never happen now.

  But he could still work toward the other part of that. Owning a successful business. Cassidy was right. Plenty of people started off in debt. He’d never borrowed money before. Gram had always said “the borrower is servant to the lender.”

  But he couldn’t pass up such a great opportunity. Not when everything had lined up and all he had to do was take the risk. Ditch the pride, fight the fear, and the dream could be his.

  He was going to tell Mrs. Ford now, work at going over the books and accounts and checking the inventory in the garage today, and spend the week working his butt off. Opportunities didn’t come to people who sat around, afraid.

  CASSIDY SLID INTO HER car as dusk fell. Court ran late again, and she had to meet with one of her clients afterwards. She was already exhausted, and even though she looked forward to picking up her children and spending some quality time with them, finally, she wasn’t sure how she was going to have the energy to make it to bedtime, with all the things that they would need: homework with Jamal and any behavioral issues. Baths for the twins. Supper, that she hoped to cook herself, but it was tempting to stop at the store and buy a frozen pizza.

  At least on the way to the day care, she could return the Joining Hearts call. Anne’s boss, Larissa, had left a message along with her personal cell number.

  She answered on the fourth ring. Cassidy put her phone on speaker.

  “Thanks for returning my call, Cassidy.” Larissa sighed. “Anne’s report was not very encouraging.”

  Cassidy let out a laugh that had more nerves than she wanted to show in it. “She caught me on a really bad day.”

  “She said you said it was a typical day.”

  “Well, yes. I mean, of course, life with toddlers is always interesting.”

  “It is,” Larissa said compassionately. “And life with twins is exceptionally hard.” Papers rustled before her voice came back on. “Anne said that your eight-year-old, Jamal, spent a lot of time helping you. We don’t like to see that—parents relying on the older children to do the work of a parent.”

  Cassidy tried to gather her defenses. She was trained to argue, after all. But she hadn’t expected the complaint to come from that angle.

  “Jamal enjoys helping with his sisters.”

  “Of course he does. But he needs to be a typical eight-year-old. Not your personal nanny. I don’t want to sound unkind. I know children are a hard job.” She sighed. “Pennsylvania law does not require there to be two parents in an adoptive house. And we allowed you to adopt Jamal as a single mom. However, it’s our agency’s policy, and I believe my recommendation is going to be that the twins go to a two-parent home. It’s too much work for one person. Then to add Jamal into the mix. You just can’t do it by yourself.”

  “I could hire a nanny. I’ve actually seriously considered it.” She could afford it. She had made a pledge while Torque was behind bars that she would not live a lavish lifestyle as long as he lived in a prison, doing her time. It wasn’t right. She’d kept her pledge, driving an old car, renting a cheap apartment in a bad section of town, buying her clothes at the local discount store. No housekeeper, no nanny, no meal service or maid.

  “The children don’t need a nanny. They need a mother who has time for them. And with twins, they need a mother and a father.” Larissa’s voice was firm.

  Cassidy’s fingers squeezed the steering wheel. “What about Jamal? He loves his sisters. Doesn’t he deserve to grow up with his flesh-and-blood siblings?”

  There was a pause. Cassidy had met Larissa several times, and she really did have a heart. She also had the best interests of the children first and foremost. She cared about Jamal and his desire to be with his sisters. Cassidy held her breath.

  “You’re right. I want Jamal to know his sisters. And we constantly search for families who are willing to take multiple siblings. We also always give precedence to adoptive families who have already adopted siblings, as you have with Jamal. But, Cassidy, it’s too much for a single mom. A nanny is a good idea, but it’s not a stable answer.” She paused. “I have a note here that you were in a serious relationship. Anne said she didn’t ask and you never mentioned it, but that there was no man there with you. Is that true? Is there a possibility that there could be a father in the picture?”

  Immediately Cassidy thought of Torque. If her life were her own, she might pursue him, hoping that someday he might feel something for her. Even half of what she felt for him would be more than most people lived on. But there were two impassible roadblocks. She was his mentor, and there couldn’t even be a hint of a romantic relationship between them, and...Torque’s ex-con status, while not specifically against Pennsylvania law, would almost certainly be a roadblock. Maybe if he’d been out for a couple of years...

  “Miss Kimball?”

  “I’m sorry.” She pulled slowly into the day care parking lot. “I really am sorry. I actually do have a man. A boyfriend. Serious boyfriend.” She cleared her throat. She’d never been a good liar. “Yeah. Um. In order to foster the children, do we have to be married, or could we be living together?”

  “It needs to be a stable relationship. If you’ve just r
ecently moved in together, we’d want to do an interview with the two of you. We’d want to know information that could help us assess the longevity and seriousness of the relationship. Of course, if you adopted, he would have joint custody, just as with any children, so you wouldn’t want to make a spur-of-the-moment decision.” A delicate pause. “You do have someone?”

  “Yes. I do. We haven’t spoken much about children, though.”

  “Would you like to schedule an appointment for the two of you together to come to the office, or should you discuss this with him, first?”

  “Officially, I’m fostering the twins right now. How much time do I have before you give them to another foster family or start to look at other couples as prospective parents?”

  “Oh, honey.” Her voice had a smile in it. “We’re already looking. The sooner we can get those sweet babies settled in their forever home, the better. That’s what we all want—children settled in a safe environment with loving parents nurturing and protecting them.”

  “Of course. That’s what I want, too.” It really was. But she could provide everything they needed and keep the siblings together.

  “As for fostering...I know you want the best for the children, that Jamal is their brother, and that you love them. I know that, but I also know that what you’re trying to do is too much for one person.” Silence on the line for a few heartbeats. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do. Call me back when you know about your boyfriend. After our team meets together, I will let you know our final decision. I felt it only fair to warn you today about what that decision is probably going to be.”

  “I appreciate it.”

  Cassidy put her head down on the steering wheel. She’d just lied, which she hated. There was no boyfriend. No possibility of a boyfriend. She’d had plenty of men chase her over the years. Because of her pretty face and model’s body, she supposed, since it was hard to get any of them to engage in a conversation or to care about anything other than the latest sports statistics. Maybe she’d been burned too many times, but she never felt sure that any man wanted her for anything more than her looks. People said she was beautiful. She just saw herself when she looked in the mirror.

  Torque was the only man who ever seemed to think there was a brain and emotions that went along with her looks. Even though, he, more than any other man, made her feel beautiful. Inside and out.

  But she wasn’t going down that road. Couldn’t go down that road.

  There wasn’t anyone else. She could pay someone to act, but it would turn into a nightmare, legally. Not to mention she could go to jail, be disbarred, and lose the girls anyway.

  She knocked her forehead against the steering wheel. There had to be a way to keep the girls. There just had to be.

  She wouldn’t allow herself to wallow, and she wouldn’t take this lying down. She’d fight for her children.

  Chapter 8

  Torque slammed the hood shut and handed Rex the filter wrench.

  “Thanks, dude,” Rex said.

  “Hey, no problem,” Torque answered and meant it.

  He’d been leaning against Cassidy’s apartment building while Rex was struggling to change the oil in his Oldsmobile. After walking over and offering to help, Torque had basically done it himself, since Rex was trying to watch a YouTube video while following the steps. Time had flown by while his hands were occupied. But now... Where was she? It had gotten dark a while ago. Rex and he had finished up by the pole light in the front corner of the lot.

  He should probably go home, but he wanted to meet with his mentor and tell her that he was opening a garage, for the next week at least. Who was he trying to fool? He wanted to see Cassidy, and that was the only excuse he could come up with.

  A chilly breeze blew, rustling the leaves. It was getting colder, too. He needed to buy some winter clothes soon. His pants still fit around the waist, although they were an inch or two too short, but his sweatshirts and jackets were way too narrow to squeeze his shoulders into.

  “You wanna come up to my apartment? I’ll get ya a cold one,” Rex said as he smacked his hands together.

  “Nah. Thanks anyway.” It occurred to Torque that this could be Cassidy’s husband. He studied the guy. Slightly balding on top, easy smile, baggy jeans. It was hard to picture Cassidy with him. He saw her more with a business type. Maybe someone whose airplane was just now landing at the airport. Maybe Cassidy and the kids were picking him up, since it was Friday. Maybe she was married to a doctor. A surgeon. That would explain why he was never around, although it made the rundown apartment she had not make any sense. Hardly a doctor’s digs.

  “’Preciate the help.” Rex slapped Torque’s shoulder and walked away, disappearing through the front door of the apartment complex.

  Torque had settled himself back in his earlier position, one shoulder leaning against the building wall, legs crossed, hands in his pockets, when headlights cut through the lot and he recognized the hum of Cassidy’s motor the way another person might have recognized her voice.

  He stayed in his place. If her husband was with her, he wasn’t going to rush in. It wasn’t his place.

  But she got out alone, immediately opening the back door and reaching in for a twin. Torque pushed off the wall and ambled over to the other side. He’d never touched a car seat before, but he was pretty good at figuring out how to work things.

  Cassidy’s head snapped up when he opened the door.

  “Torque?”

  His lips twitched. She said it like she wasn’t quite sure it was him. Did he look like someone else she knew?

  “Wanted to talk.”

  Her fingers stilled. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Do you mind if I get the kids in and start feeding them?”

  “Figured I’d help.”

  To his surprise, her eyes filled before her jaw clenched and she looked back at the little girl who was pulling on her hair. What would have caused that reaction? Bad day?

  He didn’t say anything but put his fingers on the car seat latch and worked on figuring it out. The little girl with the tight black curls and sparkling black eyes scrunched up her nose, not sure if she liked the big stranger leaning over her. Torque figured she wanted out of her car seat more than she wanted to protest the invasion of her space because her face straightened out and she grabbed his nose.

  “She likes to get peoples’ noses,” Jamal said from the back seat.

  One finger was actually up his nose, and her nails were kind of sharp, but he’d rather deal with a thousand sharp fingernails than one crying child, so he gritted his teeth and answered Jamal. “If that was a warning, it was a little late.”

  Jamal’s teeth flashed white. The latch popped, and Torque carefully lifted the armrest over the baby’s head.

  “Good thing you’re doing Nessa. Nissa doesn’t like anyone but Mom to hold her.”

  Torque plucked the baby from the seat and stood. She stiffened her body immediately, and the cuddly, soft baby of a minute ago became a stiff board.

  “She likes to walk,” Jamal said with the wisdom of an older brother.

  “I see.” He set her down, her chubby legs churning as soon as her little feet hit the blacktop. He snagged her hand.

  “I’ll get the baby bag. She wants to be first to the door.” Jamal stuck his head in the car.

  “Hmm.” Torque wasn’t sure how Jamal knew all that, but Torque wasn’t going to argue. His experience with babies was limited to...whatever he remembered from his own and his brothers’ childhoods.

  He was right, though. She raced through the parking lot so fast Torque half-expected to see black smoke leaking out her diaper. Stopping at the steps, she let out a howl, apparently because the door didn’t magically open in front of her.

  “Here,” Cassidy called. He turned and reflexively snatched the keys that she’d thrown out of midair. “You can take them up.” She stuck her head back in the car, pulling a newish-looking briefcase out.

&
nbsp; Jamal stood behind him, a baby bag slung over one narrow shoulder and a book bag slung over the other.

  “Let’s go. This is heavy,” Jamal said.

  Torque opened the door and got pulled through by the little bulldozer holding his hand. He had to smile at her tenacity. The steps were a little big for her, but he found if he lifted up, just a little, on her arm, she could do the rest herself.

  Jamal went over to her other side and held that hand. Torque could see how that would make everything go faster, but Jamal had trouble keeping the baby bag and book bag from slipping off his shoulders.

  “Give me that.” Torque reached over and took the baby bag, which was surprisingly heavy, like it contained a rebuild kit for a B-model Mack.

  “Mom says she’s gonna be doing these steps all by herself soon, but someone will still have to be behind her so she doesn’t fall and hurt herself.”

  “Good idea.” Because the question was burning a hole in his tongue, he spit it out. “Where’s your dad?”

  Jamal shrugged. “Prison, I think.”

  Torque blinked. Holy frig.

  Jamal chattered while they finished climbing the stairs. Cassidy had caught up with them by the time he’d reached the door and unlocked it, remembering the key from the other night. The little steam engine beside him was still tugging on his hand, but he hardly noticed.

  The father of Cassidy’s children was in prison. And he’d never in his life unlocked a door with children at his feet and a woman at his back, like they were all a family waiting to go into their home and spend the evening together. Intense longing like he’d never felt before slammed through his body with the unstoppable force of a forty-ton truck.

  “Are you okay? You swayed, like you are having a dizzy spell.” Cassidy’s voice from behind him grounded him back in reality. Except no one ever asked him if he was okay.

  “Fine.” He pushed the door open.

  The next couple of hours went by in what felt like a few minutes’ dream. He lay on the living room floor, playing with all three kids while Cassidy made the whole house smell delicious.