The Seven Year Secret

by Roz Denny Fox

  Mallory threw an uncomfortable glance toward Connor. But it was Liddy Bea who spilled the beans. “I don’t gotta have a baby-sitter, Dr. Robinson. Connor’s moving in with me and Mommy. He’s gonna take care of me while she’s at work.”

  “What?” Alec’s harsh query bounced off the ceiling and reverberated faintly from the back wall of the garage.

  Unable to stifle the grin that spread from ear to ear of its own accord, Connor swung Liddy Bea into his arms. He slammed her car door breezily. “Come on, kitten. If Mommy will toss me the keys, I’ll take you upstairs and start getting you ready for bed. We’ll let your mom explain our living arrangement to her boss.”

  Mallory didn’t seem able to comply with Connor’s simple request.

  “Connor, Mommy left the keys in the car,” Liddy Bea said in a loud whisper.

  “So she did.” Connor opened the passenger door, bent inside and pulled the keys from the ignition. Next, he scooped up the boxes of food and handed them to the child. “We’ll put these in the fridge,” he announced. “Like your mommy suggested, I’ll warm up the fish for your lunch tomorrow.”

  He heard the angry rumble of Alec Robinson’s deep voice and quickened his pace to get Liddy Bea out of earshot. This was probably going to be an unpleasant scene and the child didn’t need to hear it.

  Connor also pocketed the keys, since Mallory had offered him the use of her car. He’d intended to call a cab, but they’d forgotten to stop at the mall and he needed to get there before it closed. A car would give him a faster getaway, too. Connor had no doubt that Mallory would be itching to take a chunk out of his hide once she sent Alec away and stormed back inside.

  Still, it was worth facing her fury to have dealt that pompous windbag Robinson the shock of his life.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CONNOR HEARD THE FRONT DOOR of the apartment slam as he was tucking Liddy Bea into bed. “Here comes your mom. I thought we’d have time to read a book, but I’d better scoot out of here and go shopping and then find myself a place to stay for the night. Save this story for tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Liddy Bea sighed, but she snuggled down with her stuffed dog. She’d already fussed with her glass frog band, making sure each figure faced her bed. “Mommy leaves my door open so I can see the hall light.”

  “Don’t like the dark, huh? I’m not fond of it, either, kitten.” Connor stroked her hair as he stored that information. He realized it was just one of the many things he didn’t know about his daughter—her fear of the dark.

  She stretched out her arms to him for another hug.

  Connor had helped her wash her face and hands after they came in. Her sweet soapy smell engulfed him as he bent over her again.

  A shadow blocked the hall light as he disentangled Liddy’s arms from around his neck.

  “Connor, you can’t toss a child in bed straight from dinner. This splitting care thing really isn’t going to work. I don’t know what made me ever think it would.” Mallory sounded more weary than upset.

  “We washed my hands and face and got me clean jammies, Mommy.” Liddy Bea sat up in bed, still clutching her stuffed toy and Connor’s hand. “I ’splained how I can’t have a real bath until my tummy heals.”

  “You washed her and found clean pj’s?” Mallory turned surprised eyes on Connor.

  “Yes. And I was just leaving,” he said. “I changed my mind about borrowing your car. I could use it, if you’re sure that’s okay. We forgot to stop at the mall, and I need a few things until my movers arrive.”

  Mallory worried her top lip with her teeth. She glanced from Liddy’s anxious face to Connor and back again, then led him into the hall and lowered her voice. “It’s probably not a good idea. As Alec pointed out, nothing about this deal we made will seem sensible to anyone on the outside looking in.”

  “Funny, I recall we once had this conversation in reverse. Back when we lived together, I used to worry about what people might think. But you never cared about anyone else’s opinion.”

  Mallory stiffened. “Time and motherhood have a way of changing one’s perspective. You’ve remained a carefree bachelor, Connor.”

  “So marry me and correct all that. Then everything will look aboveboard to these people whose opinions you’re suddenly so worried about.”

  “Marry you?” she gasped. “Connor, where did that come from? Oh, I see. You eavesdropped. You heard Alec ask me first.”

  “What? I did no such thing. People…uh…marry who have a lot less in common than we do.” Turning red, Connor mumbled that he’d never thought she was serious about Robinson. “Sorry. Today’s been…eventful. I’ll go now. We both need a good night’s rest. Tomorrow, we’ll set some rules. Don’t be hasty about any plans until then. We can make this work, I promise.”

  She seemed unable to move, and felt icy fingers of doubt tiptoe up her spine as Connor’s body brushed hers in passing. At one time she would have snapped up his offer of marriage so fast it would’ve made his head swim. Now the knowledge that he’d just become unengaged to Claire Dupree left her too confused to believe she could ever feel the same love for Connor again.

  Even though she heard the outer door close and lock, she couldn’t seem to grasp everything that had transpired in the last half hour.

  “If you married Connor, would he be my daddy?” Liddy’s eager voice floated into the hall and broke into Mallory’s thoughts. “Then he could stay here forever, right?” Liddy’s overexcitement brought Mallory rushing back into the bedroom.

  “Baby, Connor wasn’t serious. He was being a smart aleck, asking me to marry him. It’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not?” The little girl pouted. “He’d make the best daddy.”

  “You’ve seen him, what? Two or three times at most? Liddy Bea, there’s more to being a good husband and daddy than Connor’s shown us so far.”

  “I don’t like Dr. Robinson. He said I’m spoiled ’cause I want a night-light. Connor doesn’t like the dark. And he don’t smell like lemons.” Liddy’s lower lip quivered.

  Mallory almost laughed. Alec Robinson did go overboard on the lemony aftershave. It was also true that he’d been fairly vocal about her spoiling Lydia. Alec’s views on child-rearing were one reason she’d never seriously entertained the idea of marrying him. There were others. A bitter divorce he refused to let go of. Followed closely by the fact that he had more in common with her dad than with her. Dinner in formal restaurants and attending the opera were Alec’s only ideas of entertainment. He repeatedly said he didn’t like anything that involved getting sweaty.

  She supposed that also included sex. Although it’d been so long since she’d enjoyed the experience, she wondered if her memories might’ve been enhanced by deprivation.

  Mallory crossed the room and sat on Liddy’s bed. “Liddy Bea.” She smoothed the child’s still-damp curls. “I’m not going to marry Alec. I wouldn’t marry anyone you didn’t like. Furthermore, he’d have to love both of us a lot.”

  Liddy Bea nodded. “Connor loves us, Mommy.”

  Mallory’s hand faltered, growing suddenly clammy. “What makes you think that?”

  The child shrugged. “I just know. I’m sure glad he’s not gonna marry the lady he brought to see me in the hospital. Aren’t you glad, Mommy?”

  “Honestly?” It was on the tip of Mallory’s tongue to say she hadn’t given Claire a thought. But if she was going to be honest… “Yes, baby, I’m glad Connor’s not marrying Claire. But that’s got to be our secret, okay? You lie down and go to sleep now. I need to type up some rules so that tomorrow when Connor comes, we have a routine.”

  “’Night, Mommy.” Smiling, Liddy Bea flopped on her side and slung an arm over her stuffed dog.

  CONNOR ARRIVED BEFORE breakfast the next morning. He juggled house and car keys, two cups of coffee, a carton of milk and a dozen assorted doughnuts.

  Liddy Bea’s eyes lit up. Mallory wore a scowl. “I have a nutritious breakfast on the table. You should have called
to check before you bought doughnuts. Fredric is trying to restrict Liddy’s fat intake.”

  “Oh. I thought you said we needed to go light on protein.”

  “That, too. Low sodium, low protein and low fat.”

  “What’s left in the food chain?” Connor asked, plainly perplexed.

  “It’s balance we’re striving for. Fredric isn’t sure if certain foods increase her buildup of negative antibodies. If her antibody count gets too high, she’s not a good candidate for transplant.”

  “Can I have one doughnut, please, Mommy?” Liddy asked in a beseeching tone.

  Mallory sighed, and seeing her indecision, Connor stepped in. He put down the box of doughnuts and picked up the child. “Why don’t we check out what your mother fixed for breakfast? Then maybe you and I will get out of her hair for a while. You know, give her some time to herself? We’ll take the doughnuts to the university, where Da—um, where I’ll soon be setting up my project. The staff will love us for bringing a treat. And I’ll make a good first impression.”

  Mallory caught his almost-slip. She told Liddy Bea to go wash and watched the girl skip away after Connor set her down. Mallory pulled Connor aside. “Is that a good idea, Connor? What if people notice your similarities and think she’s your child?”

  “She is my child,” he said clearly and concisely. “Your neighbor, Mr. Peterson, made the connection yesterday. As could anyone at a park, in the grocery store or the hospital—anywhere. I’m willing to allow you a reasonable amount of time to figure out what to tell her, but I’d like it settled before she starts school. I want their records set straight.”

  He looked so big. So imposing. So serious. Mallory shut her eyes.

  “I’m here to stay, Mal. I’m back in Tallahassee, and I’m not going away. Unless you move, and if you do, I’ll pull up stakes and follow you.”

  Connor was the only person who’d ever shortened her name. The only person who said Mal in a way that still conjured visions of being together in bed. He’d usually called her Mal in the throes of passion and at other highly emotional times. Which proved he was dead earnest about this.

  “Two weeks, Connor. Give me two weeks starting Monday, when I go back to work. I have to be sure this isn’t a passing fancy with you.” Realizing he was about to protest vehemently, she held up a hand. “After nearly seven years, two weeks isn’t much to ask. I know I probably don’t deserve the added time. I should’ve let you know when she was born. But… I have to be sure! Parenting isn’t anything you’ve ever done. Look at the number of dads who regularly opt out. Those numbers triple when a child is chronically ill. I’ve seen the statistics, Connor.”

  “And I keep telling you I’m not one of those statistics. If I’d had any reason to suspect you were pregnant, the last six-plus years would’ve been different.”

  “Yes, they would. You’d be able to blame me for ruining your career.”

  “This sniping at each other is getting us nowhere.” Connor paced the kitchen in short, quick steps. “Two weeks. Fine, I agree to two weeks.”

  “Thank you.” Mallory’s voice cracked. “H-how will you handle it if anyone else remarks on…the, uh, noticeable similarity?”

  “I’ll wear sunglasses everywhere I go.”

  Mallory dredged up a smile. “I can’t fault you for not trying to accommodate my insecurities. Come on. Let’s eat. Let’s discuss the rules we’re going to establish. I have a whole list.”

  “Wait a sec. Insecure isn’t a word I’d ever connect with you, Mallory. The very opposite, in fact. It’s something I always admired about you—that ability to move easily in and among people from any walk of life. The other volunteers in our hurricane-relief group looked to you for leadership. So did I. When did you start feeling insecure?”

  “I never felt that kind of vulnerability before I had a child. You know, Fredric warned me when I mentioned finding you, Connor. He said courts look more favorably on fathers now. And when you consider the facts alone, it might appear that I’ve done you wrong.”

  Approaching her, Connor lifted the hands she had unconsciously clenched at her sides. He pried open her fingers and curled them over his, lightly stroking her knuckles with his thumbs. “I tried to be mad at you. I admit I considered fighting you in court. But the more I saw you and Liddy Bea together, the more I knew I could never do anything to jeopardize that relationship. Which isn’t to say I don’t regret missing her early years.”

  “Oh, Connor, I’m so sorry.”

  “Shh! Let me finish. I’ll always have a blank where you have memories. I simply want to start sharing the steps she’ll take from here on out.” Raising Mallory’s right hand to his lips, Connor pressed a kiss to the fingers he’d been stroking.

  A lump lodged in her throat. His eyes, which could look like storm clouds one moment and the silver skies after a rain in the next, had always left her little more than putty in his hands. When he touched her, Mallory had no resistance to him. Nor was it clear why she should resist. Except for the fact that there was so much volatile history behind them. Some of it her fault. Some his. Much more could be attributed to her mother’s meddling in their lives. But it all added up to her needing a clear head right now—since they’d be making decisions regarding Connor’s role in Liddy Bea’s chaotic life. With chronic illness, life could go rapidly into a tailspin.

  All those thoughts ran through Mallory’s head. Jumbled thoughts and indecision, thanks to Connor’s nearness.

  She jerked out of his loose grasp more forcefully than either of them might have expected. “That’s going to be rule number one, Connor,” she said in a shaky voice. “This arrangement—our part, anyway—must remain strictly platonic.”

  He backed away, raising his palms. “Sure. Whatever you say. I can live with that rule.”

  Five minutes later, all three of them were seated at the small breakfast table, eating Mallory’s whole wheat waffles and fresh fruit. The coffee Connor brought was reheated in the microwave, and Liddy had grape juice. Mallory and Connor sat across from each other, their knees companionably touching, and Connor wondered if he could abide by such a rule. When he used to come upon her studying in their tiny kitchen, her shiny chestnut curls had a way of brushing a spot below her ear that made his toes curl with wanting to kiss the soft, untanned flesh of her neck. In that previous life, he’d answered the call of such yearnings. Now it was going to be pure hell to ignore the blood pounding through his veins.

  Leaning his elbows on the table, Connor closed his eyes and dropped his forehead into his splayed hands. How could he ever have been so stupid as to walk away from her in the first place?

  Mallory glanced up, thinking she heard him groan. “What’s wrong? Is it my waffles or the timetable I drew up?”

  Connor opened his eyes to gaze at her between his fingers. “You should’ve been in the army, Mallory. You have our schedule so regimented, all that’s missing is reveille.”

  She drew back. “It’s not that bad.”

  “No?” He glanced down at the papers spread around them. “You arrive home at five-thirty. I hit the road by five-thirty-three. I come in at two-thirty in the morning and sleep until six, because I’m scheduled in the bathroom to shower and shave from six-o-five to six-twenty-nine. At six-thirty, you have the shower so you can leave the house at seven.” He leaned across the table and slammed a hand on the page. “How do we communicate? When? Don’t parents—uh…people who raise kids together—need debriefing time?”

  Mallory blinked. Moving his hand, she frowned down at her copy of the timetable she’d blocked into his and her segments. “I don’t see any problem. I assume we both have voice mail at work.”

  “Voice mail? Dammit, Mallory.”

  Her frown became a scowl. “You promised to watch your language, Connor.”

  “I did. I’m sorry. You’re not going to budge on this schedule, are you?”

  “At least let’s try it for a week or two. Is that too much to ask?”

 
“Okay. So, after today, I fix Liddy and me breakfast and lunch. You’re on your own. Then you and she have dinner together, and I’m eating at the U’s cafeteria. I do morning, noon and four o’clock exchange. You handle the one at night.”

  Mallory beamed. “See how logically that fits with our work schedules? Except for today and through the weekend. By the way, I’ve already done Liddy Bea’s morning exchange.”

  “What about weekends?”

  “What about them?”

  “You’ve got the same schedule seven days a week. Do you work weekends?”

  “Sometimes there are Saturday-night fund-raisers. Typically, Liddy Bea and I save Saturdays for errands. Sundays we meet Dad for church and spend the afternoon and evening at Forrest House. With Dad’s busy schedule and my working, it’s about his only opportunity to spend time with her.”

  Connor saw that she’d manipulated the week quite nicely to keep the two of them separated as much as humanly possible and still share quarters. “Since you’ve sewed up Liddy Bea’s Saturdays and Sundays, I guess those are days I can socialize?”

  She looked confused, so he spelled it out. “For instance, if I want to invite co-workers in to say, swim or have a barbecue or just hang out, Saturday or Sunday would be the best time for me to do that?”

  “I, ah, are you talking about dating?”

  Connor hiked a shoulder and his lips quirked in a smile.

  Mallory’s neck grew blotchy and red. She folded her hands atop the pages and muttered, “You’ve repeatedly said that the point of this exercise is so that you can get to know Liddy Bea better. I never factored in more than that, Connor.”

  “Well, you factored me out of her weekends. Am I supposed to twiddle my thumbs two days a week?”

  “No. I assume you’ll have laundry, grocery shopping, and…and stuff,” she ended lamely.

  “I planned to handle domestic chores during the day. Remember, I said we’d be partners in running the house. I know you’ve had to do it all alone up to now. Part of the reason I suggested a fifty-fifty split was to free up more time for you to have fun. Remember how we used to go to the beach or rent movies and make popcorn at home on a rainy afternoon?”