He shrugged; how much worse could it get? His son had been home less than an hour, he’d seen Dylan in bed with Hope, and he’d been yanked out of a chair and sent to his room. Things could only get better. “I’ll go get Adam from his room,” he said, but stopped by the bathroom first to down four aspirins.
Two hours later, he figured he should have just run his head through a wall, for all the good those aspirins did him.
From the back door he watched Julie’s rental car pull out of his driveway and head toward town. She hadn’t been able to get a flight out of Sun Valley until the next afternoon, and she’d just assumed she would be staying with him and Adam. After the past hours he’d spent with her, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d agree to let her stay with him. He’d called the Sandman and got her a room for the night. By morning, the whole town would know his business, but for once he didn’t care. If he had to spend any more time with Julie, he couldn’t promise that he wouldn’t strangle her.
She’d totally crapped out on him, making it sound as if she would have married him if he’d ever asked her. He’d never asked her, because they’d talked about it and decided that a baby wasn’t a good enough reason to get married. They’d both decided that, not just him, because the truth was, if she’d felt strongly about it, he would have married her even knowing it would be a mistake.
He shut the back door and went in search of his son. He found him lying on his bed, crying into his pillow. One of his sneakers had disappeared, his socks were scrunched down around his ankles, and his shorts were twisted around his waist. He was a pitiful lump of misery.
“Are you hungry?” Dylan asked from the doorway.
“No.” Adam rolled onto his back, and his face was splotched from crying. “Why’s my backpack outside?”
“Hope and I hiked up to Sawtooth Lake.”
Adam looked across the room at his father. “She used my backpack?”
“Yes, she did.”
“I don’t want her to touch my stuff. I hate her.”
Dylan moved toward the bed. “Just a few weeks ago you liked her.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
Adam turned his face to the wall. “Before you guys were doing sex!”
About a year ago Dylan had explained most of the birds and the bees to Adam, but not the real embarrassing stuff. He thought about his response and chose his words carefully. “There is nothing wrong with what Hope and I were doing. We’re both adults and you weren’t even supposed to be here until Sunday.”
Adam sat up and his eyes got squinty. “You don’t have to do that any more ‘cause you got me. Let her find someone else to make her a baby.”
“What?” Dylan sat on the edge of the bed. “People don’t have sex just to make babies, Adam.”
“Uh-huh. That’s what you said. You said men put their penis in women to make babies.”
Okay, maybe he’d screwed up the whole birds-and-the-bees thing more than he thought. “Men want to make love to women even when they don’t want to make babies.”
“Why?”
“Because… well…” He didn’t know what to say, but he’d already messed up, so he figured he’d just muddle through with the truth. “Well, because it feels really good.”
“Like how?”
How did you explain sex to a seven-year-old kid? “Hmm… like when you finally scratch an itch that you’ve waited all day to scratch. Or when your feet are really cold and you slide into a warm tub and get all shivery,” he said and watched himself fall in his son’s eyes.
“Sick!”
“You’ll feel different about it in a few years.”
Adam shook his head. “No way.”
Dylan figured it was time to change the subject. “Why don’t you tell me about your trip?”
Adam looked as if he wasn’t going to let the subject drop, but he did. “It was okay.”
“Your mom said you met her boyfriend, Gerard.”
“He talked funny.”
“Your mom also said you called him a fag. That wasn’t very nice.”
“Why couldn’t Mom stay here?” Adam asked, obviously figuring it was time to change that subject, too. Dylan would let him, for now.
“There was no place for her to sleep.”
“She could sleep with you. Hope did.”
Yes, Hope certainly had, but truth be told, there had been very little sleeping. “That’s different. Your mom’s marrying that French dude.”
“Maybe you could marry her instead,” Adam suggested as he picked at the Band-Aid on his knee. “She said she would have married you if you’d asked her. So go ask her now.”
“Too late. She loves Gerard LaFollete.” Dylan patted his thigh and Adam crawled into his lap. “There are a lot of different reasons why people don’t get married, but just because your mom and I never got married doesn’t mean we don’t love you. Or,” he added, stretching the truth a bit, “that we don’t care about each other. I’ll always love your momma because she gave me you. And if I didn’t have you, I’d be real sad all the time.”
“Yeah.” Adam laid his head on Dylan’s shoulder. “I’m your little buddy.”
“Yep.” He wrapped his arms around his son and squeezed. “I’m glad you’re home.”
“Me, too. Where’s Mandy?”
“The last time I saw your puppy, she was chasing your grandmother’s peacocks, and your grandmother was chasing her.”
Adam pulled back, his eyes bright. No one loved naughty-dog stories more than Adam. “Did Grandma catch her?”
“Nope, but maybe we should go get her.”
Adam nodded and laid his head again on Dylan’s shoulder.
“When Mom gets married, will my name be Adam LaFollete?”
“No, you’ll always be Adam Taber.”
“Good.”
Yeah, good. For the first time since Adam had walked in the door, things were looking better. The fact that he’d mentioned Julie’s marriage was a step in the right direction. Perhaps Adam was letting go of his dream of them all living together. Julie was free to live her life, and Dylan suddenly felt a lot freer to live his. Yeah, now that it was too late.
“And you’re not going to be doing sex any more with Hope, right?”
Maybe not so free after all. He didn’t know how to answer. He knew what Adam wanted to hear, but he couldn’t say it. It would be like taking a step back when he was finally moving forward. And the funny thing was, he hadn’t known how badly he wanted to move forward until he’d met Hope.
Sitting on his son’s bed, holding him tight, he felt more alone than he could ever remember feeling. Before Hope, he’d known he was lonely, but now he felt it more keenly than ever. Somehow she’d crawled inside him, and it was like she’d breathed new life into his lungs, made his blood and his juices flow again. And now that she was probably gone from his life, he just felt hollow.
“Let’s go get that dog of yours,” he said, because he just couldn’t tell Adam what he wanted to hear. Not yet. Not until he knew what he was going to do. Not until he figured out exactly what he felt about Hope and the whole screwed-up mess.
Hope wasn’t going to hide like she’d done something wrong. She wasn’t going to hide in her house, pacing the old wooden floors and running to the window every few minutes. At seven-forty-five that evening, she changed into her peach sundress, put on her makeup and took herself to dinner. Unfortunately, the fanciest establishment in town was the Cozy Corner Cafe.
Honky-tonk played on the jukebox, and the diner smelled exactly how it had the first time Hope had set foot inside. The dinner rush had died down and a couple with a baby occupied one booth, while three teenage girls sat at the counter laughing and smoking cigarettes.
Apparently, the Cozy Corner hadn’t heard of providing a smoke-free environment and wasn’t too concerned about underage smoking. But at least the girls didn’t have pink hair and safety pins in their faces.
Hope took a booth
near the back and ordered a cheeseburger, no onions and extra mayo on the side, a large order of fries, no salt, and a chocolate shake. Maybe she could find comfort in comfort food.
Work had been out of the question, and she’d spent most of the day trying not to cry and wondering if it was really over between her and Dylan, wondering if she should call him and waiting for him to call her. She’d spent the day reliving all the time they’d spent together, especially the closeness of the night before. He cared about her; she’d heard it in his voice and felt it in the way he’d touched her.
She’d spent hours thinking she should go back to his house and make him listen to her, make him believe that she would never betray him. He had to believe her, but she supposed the only way he would know for certain was when no stories appeared about him or Adam or Julie.
She’d mopped her floors, done her laundry, and scrubbed the bathrooms. She’d taken a long bath, given herself a facial and a manicure, all in an effort to take her mind off Dylan. To take her mind off the cold, closed-up expression on his face as he’d told her he didn’t think he even knew her. Nothing had worked.
Paris Fernwood set Hope’s milkshake in front of her. As the waitress placed a long spoon and a straw on a napkin, Hope remembered her first day in town and her second encounter with Paris. She remembered the way Paris had looked at Dylan, her brown eyes melting and her harsh features softening. He’d lit her up from the inside out, and Hope wondered if she looked at him the same way, and if he noticed.
“Thank you,” Hope said, sliding the straw from its wrapper.
Without looking up, Paris muttered, “You’re welcome,” and walked away.
Pathetic, Hope thought as she watched the waitress move behind the counter and empty ashtrays. That was how she’d thought of Paris that first day. Now she understood a little bit better. Loving Dylan Taber wasn’t an easy thing to get over. Especially when she didn’t know if it was really over. She was in limbo, her heart not quite broken. Not yet. She felt as if she were teetering on the edge of a cliff and Dylan was the only one who could pull her back.
She stuck her straw into the shake and sucked up a big dose of chocolate ice cream. She’d placed her heart in his hands, and it was up to him to decide what he would do with it now.
Paris returned with Hope’s meal and tore the ticket from the little green book she kept in her apron pocket.
“Is there anything else you’re needin‘?” she asked as she plunked the ticket on the table.
“I don’t think so.” Everything appeared just as she’d ordered it. “Thanks.”
“Uh-huh.” Again Paris didn’t even look at Hope before she walked away.
Hope didn’t know what she’d ever done to the waitress, but it must have been a major offense. She poured ketchup onto her plate and dipped a few fries. They were hot and greasy and not quite as wonderful as she’d expected. She smeared extra mayonnaise on her cheeseburger. It wasn’t as wonderful, either, but she suspected it wasn’t the fault of the food. It was her mood. She wanted comfort, but food wasn’t going to be the answer.
Out of the corner of her eye a glimpse of red caught her attention and she glanced up at the woman standing by her table. She lifted her gaze up Ralph Lauren jeans and a red silk tank, but even with the brown chin-length wig and dark sunglasses, Hope immediately recognized Juliette Bancroft.
“If you don’t want to draw attention,” Hope said, “lose the sunglasses.”
Without asking if she wanted company, Juliette slid into the seat across from Hope. “Have you called Mike Walker?” she asked, referring to The National Enquirer’s infamous reporter. She reached for her sunglasses and tucked them into her purse.
“I told you, I don’t work for The National Enquirer.”
“I know. You work for The Weekly News of the Universe, which, the last time I checked, had a gossip section.”
“True.” Hope paused and ate a few more fries. “But we don’t pay reporters to look through your trash. Everything you read in our Hollywood gossip section is pretty much old news.”
Juliette grabbed a menu. “I’ve already talked to my agent,” she said as she looked it over. “He’s spoken with my publicist, who will issue a standard ‘No comment’ to the press until we feel the time is right for a statement.” She flipped the menu to the back.
“No one will hear a word from me.”
Juliette glanced up. “Because of Dylan?”
“Of course,” she answered without hesitation. “But even if I felt nothing for Dylan, I would never hurt Adam.”
“Dylan and I have talked to Adam, and I think he’ll be okay. I’m the one who will be hurt the most if the story gets out,” Juliette said.
“And me,” Hope added. “Dylan would never forgive me if he read the story in a tabloid.”
Paris set a glass of water on the table. “What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Is this bottled water?” Juliette wanted to know.
“Straight from the tap.”
Juliette pushed it aside. “Do you have anything low-cal?”
“Salad,” Paris answered.
“Fine. I’ll have a chicken salad with vinaigrette dressing.”
“Don’t have vinaigrette.”
“Then give me Thousand Island, but put it on the side. And I’ll have a Diet Coke, lots of ice.”
“Do you want that ice on the side?”
Surprised that Paris might actually be making a joke, Hope looked up at her, but by the extremely irritated expression on her face, it was very clear she wasn’t kidding.
“In the glass will be fine.” Juliette shook her head as Paris walked away. “I don’t know how anyone can stand to live here.”
“Actually, it grows on you,” Hope said and was surprised as much as Juliette by her statement.
“How long have you known Dylan?”
“Long enough.”
“It was a real shock to walk into his house today and find you in his bed.”
“It was a shock to wake up and find you in his house.”
A reluctant smile tilted the corners of Juliette’s red lips. “He must care about you.”
Hope took a drink of her milkshake. She didn’t know for certain how Dylan felt about her. Beyond telling her she was important to him, he’d never actually said. Now she might never know.
A local couple sat down in the booth behind Juliette and wanted a booster seat for their toddler. Paris brought it, and Hope was struck by how nice and chatty she was to them.
“You don’t look like the sort of woman I always pictured with Dylan,” Juliette said, drawing Hope’s attention away from the change in Paris.
“Why’s that?”
“I always knew he’d end up with a pretty woman, but I figured he’d want someone more… homespun, I guess.” Juliette tucked the brown wig hairs behind her ears, then laid her hands on the table. For the first time, Hope noticed the impressive diamond on her finger. “How much has Dylan told you about me?” she wanted to know.
“Not a lot. Just that you and he were never married and when he left, he took Adam with him,” Hope answered and figured she didn’t owe Juliette anything more.
“When Dylan left L.A., he took Adam because he is a wonderful father.” Juliette lowered her gaze to her hands. “People look at a woman differently if she gives up custody of her child, even if it is best for the child, like there is something wrong with her, like she has no heart. That’s just not true. I love my son, and I never meant to keep him a secret.”
Hope didn’t know what to say about that. She didn’t have children, would never have children, but she didn’t think she could give up custody no matter how wonderful the father.
“I’m only telling you this in case you go ahead with a story. I’m telling you so you know my side. I gave Dylan custody of Adam because Dylan is a good father and a good man. I gave him custody because I love them both.”
As Hope looked into the heavenly blue eyes of America’s favorite a
ngel, she believed her. It didn’t matter if she understood Juliette Bancroft or even liked her. She was right. Dylan was a good father and a good man.
Even before she’d fallen in love, she’d made a connection, and for the first time in a very long time, she’d shared her life and dark, painful secrets. She’d shared with Dylan because she felt safe with him. She trusted him, and he’d trusted her enough to share his life with her, too.
But only to a certain point. She hadn’t told him the truth about what she really did for a living, and he’d lied to her about the woman sitting across the table. He’d told her Adam’s mom was a waitress. He hadn’t trusted her that far. She’d lied to him, and he’d lied to her. Perhaps not the best beginning for any relationship, but they could work through it.
Dylan was being a big hypocrite about it all now, but that would shortly change. When he realized she wasn’t a gossip reporter, he’d have to apologize. She’d forgive him, but she just hoped he didn’t wait too long. She wasn’t a patient woman.
And Adam. During the short time she’d been in Gospel, she’d come to care for him, and his anger hurt almost as much as his father’s.
Chapter Fourteen
MICROPHONE DETECTS SOUND OF BREAKING HEART
The cord to Hope’s Discman bumped against the front of her gray sweatshirt as she jogged toward Main Street. Her sunglasses shaded her eyes from the morning sun, and through her earphones Jewel provided commiseration for her breaking heart. She sucked cool mountain air into her lungs as her ponytail bobbed and swayed on her head.
Dylan hadn’t called. He hadn’t called the night before, and he hadn’t called that morning. Hope wasn’t good at waiting. Not when it felt as if her whole life were at stake. She’d given him until nine-thirty that morning before she’d pulled on her jogging shorts and set out for his house.
True Confessions Page 24
