The Seven Year Secret

by Roz Denny Fox

  Missing social outlets in his life, he’d met Claire through co-workers. And he’d more or less let her direct their relationship from then on. He should’ve recognized earlier that, while he was contented enough with Claire, he didn’t love her.

  “Okay, I’m going,” Mallory said. Connor hastily turned the page and just as hastily finished the story. Liddy, totally oblivious to his inner turmoil, grabbed another book, which she declared her “second most favorite.” Connor read on as if he hadn’t been rendered numb by that stab of physical desire for his child’s mother.

  Boy, howdy! If Mallory had any idea what he was feeling, she’d toss him out on his ear so fast he wouldn’t know what hit him. He sure hadn’t been prepared for the sneak attack on his senses. Oh, he’d reminisced about the good times he and Mallory had shared but as often as not, he’d immediately switched to being furious with her for keeping her pregnancy a secret.

  For the first time, Connor saw validity to drawing up rules for living in the same quarters. When he’d first proposed the arrangement, he’d had in mind something like the setup he’d read Prince Andrew and Fergie had created. Living in the same house, sharing parental duties, but outside of that, leading independent lives.

  “Connor.” Liddy Bea nudged him. “It’s time to switch bags.”

  Rousing, Connor hurried to clip the tube to the waste fluid and unfasten the one that would carry the dialysate into her system. “I’ll have to pay closer attention, kitten. I think your mommy’s worried I’ll screw up.”

  The child studied him from serious gray eyes, so like his own. “What’s screw up?”

  “It means make a mistake.”

  “Oh? Mommy’s not grumpy ’bout mistakes. She says everybody makes ’em. We just gotta try and not make the same one twice.”

  “You’re a lucky girl to have such a nice mother.”

  “Yep. Do you got a nice mommy?”

  “I did have. She died a long time ago. In a hurricane,” he added, anticipating Liddy Bea’s next question.

  “My grandma Lydia died in a hurricane, too.” She snuggled into the hollow of Connor’s shoulder and arm. “I don’t like hurricanes.”

  “Me, neither, kitten.” Connor hugged her, attempting to ward off the shiver that coursed through her body.

  “At school, we saw a movie with a hurricane. My teacher showed us how we hafta make a straight line and follow her to a bus if we hear the siren. It was loud. Me and the other kids covered our ears. Didn’t your mommy or my grandma Lydia know they should get on a bus to take them away from the hurricane?”

  Connor wondered how on earth he’d manage if she asked more questions about his mother and her grandmother. He was going to have to watch more than his tendency to swear, it seemed. “I heard your mom’s shower shut off. We need to finish reading this story before she comes and drags us off to eat.”

  “Okay. I’m not very hungry, though.”

  “Maybe you will be by the time we get to the restaurant. Your mama picked a fish place. Do you like fish?”

  “It’s okay. I like French fries better. But Mommy only lets me have a few. ’Cause Dr. Fred says.”

  “If I’m going to stay with you during the day, your mother and Dr. Fred will have to write out a list of nono foods. I’ll probably be fixing your breakfast and lunch.”

  “Uh-huh. And dinner when Mommy goes out to eat with Dr. Robinson.”

  “She does that a lot, does she?”

  “Yep. The days Grandpapa didn’t get home early, me and Marta had a tea party in my room. She cut the center out of sandwiches with cookie cutters. It was fun. Maybe you and me can do that sometime, huh, Connor?”

  “You and I, not you and me, kitten. I’ve never cut the center out of sandwiches with cookie cutters. I guess I have a lot to learn when it comes to cooking for little girls.”

  “I don’t think Marta cooked the sandwiches.”

  “What’s this about cooked sandwiches?” Mallory asked as she whisked into the room.

  “Connor and me—uh—I are gonna have a tea party with my dolls next time you hafta go eat with Dr. Robinson.”

  Mallory blushed and sent a questioning glance at Connor.

  He noticed the dialysate bag was empty and busied himself unhooking the apparatus. “We were discussing me fixing breakfast and lunch. Liddy Bea said sometimes Marta fixed special dinners if you weren’t home. I’d appreciate you drawing up a list of foods Liddy Bea likes, and ones to avoid. Clip it to the rules when you get those set up. What’s our next step here? What happens to the used bags, Mallory?”

  “Right now there’s a box inside my room. Each time it’s full, I seal it and put it in one of the outside trash bins. That’s a chore I won’t mind sharing. The boxes are heavy. I’ll try to find a more neutral place to put it. I think our bedrooms should be off-limits to the other person, don’t you?”

  Watching her, fresh from her shower, Connor thought bedrooms were the last place he’d want to be off-limits. However, those were fantasies that should be kept to himself. Or better yet, fantasies that should be extinguished completely. “I’m easy,” he said, lifting Liddy Bea off his lap. “Maybe you can put this one in the box while I go wash again. Did Mark leave any clean shirts here? Otherwise, I’m stuck going to dinner in what I’m wearing.”

  “Mark cleaned out everything. There’s a mall near the restaurant if you’d like to stop afterward and pick up a few things to tide you over until your stuff arrives.”

  “I’ll have to.” He rubbed a prickly jaw. “Unless you don’t mind me looking like a bum for a few days, I’ll need a razor. And at least a couple of shirts, jeans, socks and underwear.”

  “Catching the last flight back to Miami might turn out to be less expensive for you, Connor. I’ve already arranged for this month off work. We don’t have to start splitting day care tomorrow, you know.”

  “What I know is that I’ve already lost too many days, months, weeks and years, Mallory. Even one more is too many.”

  She looked guilty, and at the same time, bristled.

  “I was stating facts, Mallory, not blaming you.”

  “I’m sorry, but that’s what it sounded like, Connor. I think we should go eat and bring this conversation to an end.”

  Connor nodded, hoping they could keep things pleasant for their daughter’s sake.

  Mallory handed Liddy a light sweater. “I’ll go stash the used bags, wash and then grab my own sweater. Liddy, honey, can you show Connor the way to the tenant parking lot?”

  “Sure. Give me the keys, Mommy. I’ll open the doors.”

  “They’re in my purse. It’s on the kitchen counter.”

  Liddy Bea grabbed Connor’s hand. She ushered him into the kitchen, where she sorted the keys from other items in Mallory’s purse, while he washed.

  “We always lock the ’partment door when we go out to the car. But I guess Mommy’ll do that when she comes out.”

  Liddy Bea led the way along the hall and down back steps into a courtyard Connor didn’t know existed. There was a fenced swimming pool and a grassy area with barbecues and picnic tables shaded by gently swaying palms. Beyond, two women were playing tennis. Two other courts were vacant. Smaller fenced yards flanked the courts on either side. One yard held swings, a slide and a climbing fort. In the other, a man was letting his puppy chase a ball through the short grass.

  “That’s Mr. Peterson and his puppy, Big Foot. Hi, Mr. Peterson.” Liddy dropped Connor’s hand. She ran to the fence, sank down on one knee and stuck her hand through the mesh, all so fast, Connor barely had time to move from the spot where his feet seemed to have taken root.

  His heart still did a double flip until he heard Liddy Bea’s girlish giggle and he realized the setter pup was snuffling her arm and licking her fingers.

  Turning her hand over, Liddy Bea scratched the dog’s soft, coppery-colored ears. “Big Foot likes me, doesn’t he, Mr. Peterson?”

  “Sure does, little lady.” The elderly man glanced at
Connor and smiled. “Well, there, I guess Dad’s been away on a trip.” Still smiling at Connor, he added, “I’ve only ever seen the girl with her mama. I’ve told my wife it’s a crying shame the little one doesn’t have a dog. There’s no kids living in our complex, but your daughter wouldn’t get lonely if she had herself a pet.”

  Liddy Bea stopped stroking Big Foot’s ears and squinted up at the adults. “Connor’s a friend of my mommy’s, Mr. Peterson. I don’t have a daddy.”

  The old man straightened away from the fence. But not before he pushed his glasses up on his nose and gave Connor and Liddy Bea each a good long once-over.

  Mallory hurried up just then, somewhat out of breath. “Oh, hello, Mr. Peterson. I went directly to the car and wondered what had held up Connor and Liddy Bea. I should’ve known. If Big Foot’s anywhere outside, Liddy Bea can’t pass by without petting him. Now you’ll have to wash again at the restaurant, honey.”

  “I was telling the mister the little one needs a tail-wagger. A friend of my wife’s works for the humane society. They’re always looking for good homes.”

  As she gently lifted Liddy Bea away from the fence, Mallory’s smile turned into a frown. “Oh, I don’t think—”

  “Please, Mommy,” Liddy Bea implored. “Only two kids in my class don’t have a puppy or a kitty or a goldfish. ’Cept I don’t want a goldfish. Can I have a puppy, Mommy? Grandpapa said I could if we stayed at his house.”

  “He did?” Mallory sounded indignant. “When?”

  “The day Uncle Mark helped us move. We met Mr. Peterson and Big Foot. I said I wanted a dog just like Big Foot. Uncle Mark said he didn’t think dogs belonged in ’partments. Grandpapa said if we came back to Forrest House, he’d buy me one.”

  Mallory pressed her lips together tightly. Saying goodbye to Mr. Peterson, she hustled Liddy Bea off in the direction of the covered parking stalls.

  “Nice meeting you, sir.” Connor dipped his chin.

  “Guess if you’re the girl’s uncle, that explains the strong resemblance.”

  “Mark’s her uncle. I’m Connor O’Rourke, Mr. Peterson. I’ll be sharing the apartment with Liddy Bea and her mother, and I’ll be assuming Liddy Bea’s daytime care. Maybe I’ll talk Mallory around to thinking about a dog. If I do, I’ll get the address of the humane society from you or your wife.” Connor jogged off after the others, feeling unsettled about the half-truths he was expected to give regarding his relationship to Liddy Bea. If even nearsighted strangers saw the likeness, one of these days someone was bound to say so in terms Liddy understood.

  The ride to the restaurant would have been quiet if not for Liddy Bea’s run-on chatter concerning Big Foot.

  “Hush,” Mallory finally said as she pulled into a parking lot next to the establishment. “Liddy Bea, you can pet Big Foot whenever you’re both outside. Think how often you’ve been in and out of the hospital, baby. The last thing Mommy needs is a dog to worry about on top of everything else.”

  Liddy Bea’s lower lip trembled, and her bubbly chatter died a sudden death.

  Connor decided it wasn’t a good time to talk to Mallory about getting a dog—or about explaining to Liddy Bea his real role in her life. He gave the hostess their names while Mallory took Liddy Bea to the women’s washroom to wash her hands.

  In spite of the rocky start, dinner went well. Liddy Bea was well behaved, and the waiter remarked on her good manners.

  Mallory accepted the praise as her due. Connor was happy to let her. “You’ve done an excellent job raising her,” he said after the waiter withdrew. “I wish I could see where you missed having a man around, but I can’t say there’s any evidence.”

  As Mallory contemplated how to respond to a remark of that nature, Liddy Bea, who’d chosen to sit by Connor, slid close and wrapped both hands around his arm. “In the hospital, the day you saw Mommy’s elephant, it sounded like you knew my daddy. If you do, will you tell me and Mommy where he is?”

  Neither Connor nor Mallory was prepared for that bombshell. Both shifted in their seats and scrabbled for something to say.

  Mallory recovered first. “Baby, I want you to sit back and finish your dinner. Or if you’re full, we’ll ask the waiter to bring us a box so you can take the rest of your fish sticks home. We’ll warm them up and you can have them with a salad for lunch tomorrow.”

  Liddy Bea lifted pleading eyes to Connor, as if expecting him to contradict her mother.

  “Nice try, kitten. Eat. Your mom and I have to be on the same wavelength if we’re going to work together successfully.”

  “Will we be a family?” Liddy Bea asked, scooting fully back on her chair.

  “You and I are a family,” Mallory said, gazing in confusion at her daughter.

  Liddy Bea shook her head, making her curls dance. “Families have a mama, a daddy, kids and a dog.”

  “A dog?” Mallory and Connor said in unison.

  Liddy Bea nodded. “Remember, Mommy? I brought a liberry book home and it had pictures of a house, a mommy, a daddy, a boy and girl. And a baby and a dog. You said the book was about families.”

  “I know I did, but—” Mallory pressed a hand to her head and dropped her elbow on the table.

  Connor took pity on her. He wished she’d taken the opportunity to explain who he was, but he supposed he understood Mallory’s hesitation. He needed to earn the right to be included in their family. “Liddy Bea, families come in different sizes, shapes and colors. They don’t all live in houses and they don’t all have pets. And I’ll bet some of your schoolfriends have two grandmas and two grandpas, while you only have one grandpa. That’s sometimes the way it is, kitten.”

  “Oh.” Liddy Bea mulled over what he’d said, pinning him with eyes so like his own, Connor glanced away.

  Rising, Mallory signaled the waiter. “We’re ready for the check, and could we have a couple of boxes, please?”

  Connor noticed then that Mallory had barely touched her food. If this was her habit, it was no wonder she’d lost weight from when he’d known her. Back then, she’d enjoyed eating. Not that she was even the slightest bit over-weight. But she used to be solid. She skated, swam, jogged and biked several times a week, which kept her trim.

  “I didn’t see any of your sports equipment at the apartment. Of course I didn’t poke through closets, but stuff like your bike and surfboard used to sit out.”

  Mallory turned in surprise. “My bike is gathering dust at Dad’s. Mark had a friend who bought my surfboard five or so years ago. I pretty much stopped everything at the time Mom’s illness got bad. Then, what with working irregular hours and taking care of a house and a baby, the stuff I did when I was single sort of fell by the wayside. What about you?” she asked, filling the containers the waiter dropped off on his way past their table.

  “I still try to jog every day or so. I thought I’d surf on the island, but working on my hurricane-detection system filled a lot of hours. I did learn to fly. One of the guys who ferried supplies in gave me the books and a few lessons. As he had an instructor’s license, he let me log the required hours on his plane.”

  “Nice. You always talked about learning to fly. Do you have your own plane?”

  “Nope. That’s out there in my dream column. But most municipal airports have rentals. I’ll take you and Liddy Bea up one of these days before winter hits.”

  “Goody!” Liddy said excitedly.

  “Liddy, honey, Mommy hasn’t got much free time. Besides, it’s probably better if we don’t plan too many outings together.”

  “Why?” Connor was busy forking Liddy Bea’s fish sticks into the box, but he paused to stare perplexedly at Mallory.

  “Just because. We’re sharing an apartment, Connor. As we’re sharing responsibility for Liddy Bea. That’s it. Otherwise, I thought we’d agreed to operate as separate entities.”

  His stomach did a funny sinking dive as he took out money for the tip.

  “Oh, if you’re getting the whole tip, let me pay for your dinn
er.” Mallory plucked the check from the table. “We pay on the way out.”

  Standing, Connor gathered the boxes without a word. Up to now, he’d enjoyed their evening out. He had to agree with Liddy Bea—it felt like they were a family, dammit. Apparently Mallory was determined to keep them separate.

  He juggled the boxes and his billfold. At the cash register, he shoved the boxes into Mallory’s hands and snatched the check. “I said I was paying and I am, so don’t give me any static.” Once he’d paid, he grabbed Liddy Bea’s hand. Stony-faced, he walked out, leaving Mallory to sputter and fend for herself.

  There happened to be a couple of dogs in a car they drew abreast of at the first stoplight. Liddy Bea chattered the rest of the way home about everything she’d do if her mom let her have a puppy.

  Connor was seconds from putting in his two cents’ worth, making his plea to Mallory on Liddy Bea’s behalf, when Mallory swung into her parking spot. Leaning negligently against the trunk of a Jaguar parked in the adjacent space was Alec Robinson, still dressed immaculately in shirt, tie and three-piece suit. Even his shoes gleamed in the fluorescent lights that ran the length of the garage.

  Since the Jag was parked on Mallory’s side, it was conceivable that Alec didn’t see Connor until he stepped out of the car to open Liddy Bea’s door.

  Alec scowled. “What’s he doing here?”

  “What are you?” Mallory queried in return.

  “Fredric told me what a disappointing day you had. I thought I’d drop by to see how you were doing. I also brought the names of some new patrons to add to the ticket list for our winter fund-raiser.”

  “Oh, I won’t need that here at home. I’m coming back to work as early as Monday.”

  “Really? That’s great news.” Alec continued to eye Connor. “Bradford said you were going to advertise for a live-in baby-sitter. I didn’t realize you’d already done that.”