His fingers brushed over her lips, so lightly it almost felt like air moving over her skin. She was pretty certain her heart had stopped beating entirely. My life sucks. Really, truly sucks. She finally had a nice guy—a wonderful guy, a guy she could bring home to her parents—interested in her, and she had to smash the whole thing to bits. And I have to do it right now before he kisses me. Even though she wanted that kiss, one final kiss from Jack Wolfe, kisser extraordinaire.
She took a deep breath. She could do this. She had to do this. And losing Jack? Just one more thing that didn’t work out in her life. I should be used to this by now. He was leaning in toward her. She captured his hand with hers and pulled it away from his face.
“I have something I need to tell you.”
“Okay.” Disappointment flashed over his face. He flipped her hand over and threaded his fingers into hers.
“I got pregnant.” She wriggled her fingers free. He wouldn’t want to hold her hand after this. Wouldn’t want to even touch her.
“Oh. Okay. In Ohio?” He glanced down at her stomach.
She shook her head. “Here.”
She watched warily as his expression went from surprise to confusion, finally settling into a worrisome poker face.
“Who was the guy?”
“You.” She steeled herself for his reaction.
He frowned. “We haven’t even …” Understanding took hold in his eyes. “That one time?”
She nodded. “We didn’t use any protection.” She glanced away, unable to look him square in the face. “Because we were stupid, stupid kids.”
“Is that why you left town?”
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell me? I would have done right by you.”
She hated that phrase by now. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap, digging her fingernails into her palms, trying to keep her emotions under control. “I know you would have. That’s why I didn’t tell you. I would have gotten blamed for ruining your life.”
“Becca, that’s ridiculous—”
“You know it’s true. You would have been stuck here in St. Caroline instead of going off to the Ivy League and law school, and it would have been my fault. I would have been the girl who trapped golden boy Jackie Wolfe.”
He leaned back onto his palms on the cool stone of the patio. His face was neutral, but she could see the tightness in his jaw, the set of his mouth. He was upset. Naturally.
“I’m sorry. I know you should have been told, but I did what was best for you.”
“Thanks for deciding that for me.”
Becca unfurled her hands. “Come on. We were kids ourselves. We would have been divorced by now and you’d resent me for the rest of our lives. You know that’s the way things would have worked out.”
“So … you had an abortion?” He stared out into the blackness of the back yard.
“No! I never even considered that. The baby was adopted by a woman in Ohio.” She could barely breathe, waiting for his reaction to that news.
“You had the baby?”
“Yes. I’m sor-”
“Not exactly a baby anymore.”
“No.”
“Boy or girl?”
“Girl.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, he said, “I have a daughter somewhere. And you never told me.” He turned to look at her, his face not so neutral anymore. Anger flared in his brown eyes. “So why tell me now? Guilty conscience?” He spit the words out like a bloody tooth.
“Her mother—the woman who adopted her—is …” She paused, realizing for the first time the parallels with Jack’s life right now. “... she has cancer. She’s not going to make it.” She waited for that to sink in, then continued. “She wants to name me as Jacqueline’s guardian. She wants me to adopt her back.”
“You named her after me? Or was that a coincidence?”
“Shari let me name her. It was an open adoption.”
Jack snorted derisively.
“But I haven’t had any contact with her since she was born.”
He shoved his hands through his hair. “So are you going to do this? Adopt her back?”
“I don’t know yet. They’re coming for a visit next week.”
“Do I get any say in this?”
Becca had no answer to that. It was a question she had asked herself over and over. Of course, Jack should have a say in it. But what kind?
“Do you want a say?” she asked quietly.
He sighed, then shook his head as if in disbelief. “I don’t even know. I don’t know what to even think.” He looked at her. “This is about the worst possible time to drop this on me. I’m about to lose my mother and now you tell me I’m a father?” He stood up. “Not to mention, I barely have a job. Are you going to sue me for child support?”
“No! That never even crossed my mind.” She stood and reached for him, but he shooed her hand away.
“Yeah right.”
“Shari is leaving a trust to help with expenses.”
He turned to leave.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Sorry’s not a get out of jail free card, Becca.”
She cleaned up the remains of their dinner as she listened to Jack’s SUV start up and drive away. He was right. “Sorry” didn’t fix anything. There was nothing that could fix what she did seven years ago. But her alternative hadn’t been much better. If they’d gotten married back then, they would be divorced by now and Jacqueline would have parents who hated each other.
“Hey there.” Her father had come downstairs and out onto the patio. “Jack leave?”
Becca was certain her father wouldn’t have come downstairs if he didn’t know that Jack was gone.
“Sorry we woke you.”
“So you talked to Jack?”
“Yeah. It didn’t go well. Not that I expected it to.”
Her father sat down on the edge of the patio and patted the stone pavers next to him. Becca sat.
“If we had gotten married, that would have been a disaster,” she started to explain.
“No doubt. I also doubt that you physically overpowered him and dragged him into the trees. So he is not blameless here, either.”
“It might have ruined your friendship with the Wolfes.”
“Maybe. Because I would have opposed the two of you getting married at that age. I see enough eighteen-year-old parents in my practice to know how well that usually works out. But my children are more important than any friendship I have. That’s true for your mom, too.”
“So what do you suggest I do now?”
“With Jack or with Jacqueline?”
“Both?”
“Well, I see single parents all the time. Quite a few who are less suited to parenthood than you are.”
“That’s damning with faint praise, dad.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. Besides, you won’t be doing this by yourself.”
“You say that like I’ve already decided to do it.”
“Haven’t you?”
She stared out into the dark. Near the bottom of the yard stood the big old maple tree that Jack’s mom sat beneath at her parents’ anniversary party, the tree beneath which Mrs. Wolfe had asked Becca to finish Jack’s wedding quilt. Tonight, the tree’s trunk and leafy branches were just shadowy silhouettes in the dark. Her father waited, quietly. That was Dr. Trevor. Strong, patient, gentle, and wise. As a pediatrician, he had to figure out what might be wrong even when the patient was too young to talk.
That talent had always extended to Becca, too. She and Dan Trevor weren’t related by blood. Biologically, he was her aunt’s husband. Becca was six years old when she learned from the school gossips that she was adopted. Dr. Trevor drove to school to pick her up early, because Becca wasn’t able to stop crying. Even today, she could still remember the shock—and the shame—of that news. Not just that her parents weren’t really her parents, but that everyone else in St. Caroline already knew i
t.
He, of course, had known exactly what to say.
“Do you remember the day when I learned that I was adopted?”
“Yes, I remember it like it was yesterday.”
“You told me that we weren’t related by blood. But we were related by love.”
She felt her father’s arm drape over her shoulder, heavy and comforting.
“You always said exactly the right thing. I don’t think I have that in me.”
He chuckled, and the movement vibrated through her chest.
“I’m sure sometimes I said exactly the wrong thing. You just don’t remember all those times. I would bet my last dollar that if you asked Cass, she would contend that I always said the wrong thing.”
“The Wolfes are going to hate me.”
“No, they won’t. Tim will be angrier with Jack for not keeping his pants on.”
“Easier having boys than girls, huh? Less to worry about.”
“Well, I don’t have any sons so I can’t speak to that. But I think Jack is probably the perfect example of how nobody really knows what goes on with other families’ children.”
“I did it for—”
“I know. Your mother told me. For what it’s worth, sweetheart, I believe you did the right thing back then. Did it imperfectly. And I wish you had enlisted our help.” He squeezed her tight against his side. “You didn’t have to live out there in Ohio by yourself all these years.”
“I did it to help Jack.”
“Honestly? I don’t care about Jack. But you did the responsible thing—found a person who could give your daughter a good life. And now she is also trying to do the responsible thing for her daughter. Of everyone involved in this …” He searched for the right word, but Becca went ahead and supplied it.
“Mess.”
“Well, I was trying to be more diplomatic. But she knows this little girl better than anyone else, and she thinks you are the most responsible course of action.”
“Responsibility isn’t exactly my middle name.”
“On the contrary, you take responsibility for too many things, sweetheart. Things that aren’t your responsibility to begin with.”
“If you’re talking about the insurance deductible—”
“That’s one thing, yes. Mom and I are going to put that into a college fund for Jacqueline.”
“You’re supposed to use it to—”
He lifted his arm from her shoulder and turned to face her. “You don’t get to tell us what to do with our money, sweetheart. That’s not your responsibility. Just like Jack Wolfe’s life was not your responsibility seven years ago. Or now either. Even this little girl is not your responsibility any longer. Just because her mother thinks you’re the right solution to her dilemma doesn’t mean you have to be.” The sternness left his voice. “But Becs, if anyone is responsible enough to take this on, it’s you. Your sisters? I’m not sure I’d be sitting here offering the same advice to any of them.” He reached out and tweaked her chin. “You inherited all the responsibility genes.”
Becca looked back out into the night. There were so many things she didn’t know about raising a child. Or about herself, for that matter. And certainly, she knew next to nothing about little Jackie Weber.
“You’ll have lots of support here, Becs. Us, your sisters, Tim. I don’t know what Jack will do. Of Tim and Angie’s boys, he’s the one I know the least. But Tim will be there for you. I’m sure of that.”
He shook out his legs, stood, and reached his hand down to help up Becca.
“And you know, I’ve dealt with kids in my practice who have lost a parent. What these kids need is continuity in their lives, some things to remain the same, and the knowledge that someone understands their fears. We couldn’t give that to you. By the time we got everything sorted out in Ohio, you’d already spent several weeks in two different foster homes. Because of the girls back here, we had to just bring you to St. Caroline right away. You were so young, Becca, and you had no idea who we were. It still breaks my heart, thinking about it.”
“I didn’t make it easy, did I?” she said.
“No.” He squeezed her hand gently. “But your mom and I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.”
Chapter 26
“Why did you two break up? I thought you said things were going well.” Matt lifted another slice of sausage-laden pizza from the carryout box. He took a large bite, his eyes trained on Jack.
“Things stopped going well.” The pizza on his plate looked thoroughly unappetizing.
“How so? I know a thing or two about women, Jack. Maybe I can offer you some advice.”
Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his brother. He doubted Matt knew a thing or two about the situation Jack was currently in. Hook up once with a girl you barely know at the very end of high school. She gets pregnant and leaves town without telling anyone. Gives up the baby for adoption without your permission. Then comes back to town the exact same day you do, makes you fall in love with her, and then tells you she might be adopting your child back. Yeah, Mattie knew nothing about that.
On the other hand, he couldn’t keep the situation a secret from his family much longer. Not if the girl was coming to St. Caroline soon. Jacqueline. His daughter. That blew him away. He had a daughter. He still wasn’t sure what he thought of that. Or how he felt toward Becca anymore. He was angry, sure. Confused, definitely.
He also missed her. He was sitting on Matt’s sofa, the one where they’d had that intense make out session. She’d gotten under his skin. Maybe she had gotten under his skin seven years ago, and it had lain in wait until this summer.
“Becca got pregnant.”
“Come again?” A slice of pizza paused, mid-air, between the plate and Matt’s mouth.
“You heard me.”
“There are condoms in the bathroom. You could have helped yourself.”
“Yeah, I noticed that you have a lifetime supply. I’m not talking about now, anyway. She got pregnant seven years ago.”
Matt’s expression was one of pure skepticism. “You two got together …” Matt calculated the time. “... back in high school?”
“Just once. At a party.”
He watched as understanding dawned on his brother. “Is that why she moved away?”
Jack nodded.
“Huh. Mom and Dad never mentioned that.”
“They don’t know.”
“Don’t know? As in still? Present tense?”
“I didn’t know until a few days ago. Becca didn’t tell anyone. She just went off, had the baby in Ohio, and gave it up for adoption.”
“Damn.”
The word hung between them for several minutes as Matt finished his slice. He popped open another can of soda.
“So when are you going to tell them?”
“I don’t know. It has to be soon because the adoptive mother is bringing her for a visit.”
Matt frowned. “Why?”
Jack realized he had left a lot out of the story. “The adoptive mother is terminally ill. Cancer. She wants Becca to take the girl back.” Not “girl,” he reminded himself. Your daughter. “Jacqueline.”
“Jacqueline?” Matt shook his head. “Wow. I got no advice for you on that.”
“That’s a first. The one time I actually could use some advice, you come up empty.”
The hospital’s automatic doors slid open and Jack rushed headlong into the fresh air of the parking lot. He doubted he would ever get the smell of illness out of his nose. Every day brought the inevitable closer, like a train speeding out of control and Jack was tied to the tracks. All he could do was lie there and watch it happen. There was no escaping it, not even for a minute.
Becca had been an escape, a respite from reality, but now that was gone too. And really, he was probably making more out of their friendship than was really there. What had possessed him to confess that he was falling for her? Because was he? He came home on Memorial Day. It was now the end of July. Hardly eno
ugh time to fall in love with someone. Not to mention, there was no indication that she felt the same way. Sure, she was physically attracted to him—that much was clear. But Becca played her feelings close to the vest. He wondered whether anyone really knew her all that well.
Maybe all she had wanted was a summer fling, an escape from the reality of her own life in Ohio … until reality intervened. That was probably just as well. Jack’s own reality was upstairs in a hospital room. He had been “excused” by his father while a nurse tended to his mother.
He strolled around the corner of the hospital, through the small flower garden planted there, and back to the front entrance. Then he did it again, waiting for the text from his father saying that it was okay to return to his mother’s room. On the fourth go-round, he saw a familiar figure crossing the parking lot toward the automatic doors.
Becca.
He picked up his pace to get there before she did, because the sight of a large bundle of fabric in her arms gave him a sinking feeling. Oh hell no. She got closer and closer to the door. How was it that she could cross a large parking lot faster than he could traverse a miniature garden? He began to jog.
“Becca!” he shouted and watched as she stopped in her tracks. Yep, that was his wedding quilt in her arms. Another complication. As if there weren’t enough already. He slowed to a walk until he was standing in front of her on the sidewalk. Her expression showed her to be as wary as he felt.
“Hi.” She hugged the quilt a little tighter to her chest, like a shield.
“What are you doing here?” In the back of his mind, Jack knew there had to be a more graceful way to start this conversation but he was too tired to find it.
“Your mother wants to see your wedding quilt.” She bounced the bundle of fabric in her arms. “My mom was here to see her yesterday.”
“You’re not telling her about …”
“Jackie is her name.”
“Do your parents know?”
“Yes. I told them.”
“I haven’t told mine yet.”
“You’re going to have to do that eventually.”
“I am aware of that. But it’s hard to find a good moment these days, you know? You picked a great time for this.”
Hearts on Fire Page 21
