by Laura Abbot
“It’s not that simple.”
“It is too.” Kylie stuck out her jaw. “You like her again, I can tell.”
Libby held her breath, knowing they were about to cross a line.
“I do.”
Kylie looked again at Libby. “Do you like my daddy?”
“Yes. But—”
“Okay, then.” Kylie slipped from her father’s grasp and jumped to the floor.
Reaching out, Libby caught her as she tried to move past her. “Honey, it’s much more complicated.”
“No, it isn’t.” Out went the jaw again. “I’m pretty sure Daddy loves you again.” She whirled and faced her father. “Right, Daddy?”
Trent rose to his feet and turned his back, composing himself.
Kylie threw a triumphant look at Libby, then marched across the room and tugged on Trent’s jeans. “Tell her, Daddy.”
When Trent turned around, the room seemed to shrink and expand with the beat of Libby’s heart.
“The truth? I love you, Lib. Will you give me another chance?” He laid a hand on Kylie’s head, then met Libby’s eyes. “Give us another chance?”
Rising to her feet, Libby stared at Trent for a long moment, feeling manipulated, yet strangely giddy. How could he put her in this position in front of Kylie? Yet how dare his words thrill her the way they did? She walked across the room and knelt in front of the girl, gently running her hands up and down Kylie’s arms.
“I care about you. I care about your daddy. But you know how it is with grown-ups. Things can’t always be the way we want them to be. And some things take time. Lots of it. I hope you’ll forgive us both for hurting you. And I hope I’ll see you in class tomorrow. I miss you when you’re not there. The other children miss you, too. One more thing. I promise from now on, I will never lie to you.”
Kylie wrapped her arms around Libby’s neck. Then, as if she hadn’t heard Libby at all, she whispered, “I don’t care what you say. Daddy loves you, and I don’t really hate you. I…I love you. Please be my new mommy!”
With those words, Libby’s wounded heart cracked open.
AFTER LIBBY LEFT, it was too late to take Kylie back to school, especially with a substitute teacher. Trent couldn’t believe it when Kylie ate a big lunch, then carried her Barbies into the living room and played house, humming under her breath and making up pretend dialogue as if nothing had happened. Or as if everything were settled.
He wished he felt as confident about a future with Lib as his daughter apparently did. Libby had loved him once. She liked him now. But did she “like” him enough?
He rinsed the last of the lunch dishes and picked up a tea towel. The stakes were higher than ever. Before, he’d been the only one focused on wooing Libby back. Now Kylie was involved.
Seeing Libby work her magic on Kylie today made him even more certain he needed her. She was born to be a mother. Why hadn’t he realized that before? Why had he never understood that loving Libby meant children? That a baby had not been a threat but an extension of who Lib was?
He set the dried glasses in the cupboard and picked up a plate and began wiping it. Back then, he hadn’t been able to confess to anyone how much the idea of a baby terrified him. How utterly ill equipped he felt to be a father. How haunted he was by that hot summer night when he’d watched his own father storm out of the house forever, muttering between curses the words bitch and brat.
Trent hadn’t known at the time of Libby’s pregnancy what he knew now. He hadn’t experienced this strong need to stick by his child and protect her and provide for her. And, above all, love her without condition. The same feelings Libby must have felt for their unborn child.
Somehow, he had to convince her he was a new man, one worthy of her.
THE NEXT MORNING, Kylie showed up for her tutoring session, her disposition sunny, even carefree. Libby wondered at the change in the girl and feared she might have jumped to unrealistic conclusions. No matter how strong her feelings for Kylie, Libby couldn’t let them blind her judgment about Trent.
What had happened to her safe, simple life? A job she loved, a home she enjoyed and Doug’s affection and friendship?
Even as Libby corrected a word Kylie stumbled over, she mocked herself. Affection? Friendship? Where did mind-numbing passion fit in?
“Daddy might surprise you tonight.”
“What?” Libby had been miles away from the Level Two primer.
“I heard him call a baby-sitter. Uncle Chad’s daughter.” Kylie smiled up at her with satisfaction.
“And that’s okay with you?”
She nodded. “If Daddy’s coming to see you.”
Libby didn’t favor this conversational turn. “Let’s read another few pages.”
Kylie cocked her head. “You look funny.”
“I do?”
“Yeah, kinda goony. Like you like Daddy but you’re pretending you don’t.”
So much for playing it cool.
“I told you I wouldn’t lie, and I won’t pretend, either.”
Kylie opened the reader and spread her hands across the pages to flatten the book. “Good. Because I talked to Mommy in my prayers last night. And she says it’s okay for you to love my daddy.”
Libby was the adult here. She should be able to respond, but she couldn’t. The lump in her throat was too big.
“So what’s this word?” Kylie moved her finger beneath the letters as she began to spell it out.
“Family,” Libby supplied, the unintentional irony causing her voice to waver.
IT WAS MIDAFTERNOON when Trent grabbed a minute to drop by the Kodiak. Weezer had been concerned when Kylie had refused to go to school. Last night he’d phoned to assure her things were better, but with Kylie within earshot, he hadn’t been able to provide details. He hung his hat on the rack by the door.
At this time of day a sole customer sat at the counter wolfing down a burger and fries. Smiling in greeting, Weezer laid aside a food distributor’s order form.
“Need a break? Let me buy you a cup of coffee.”
She hooted. “I think I can afford us a pair of freebies. C’mon.” She led him to a booth overlooking the street. “Jenny!” She beckoned to the waitress.
“Two black coffees, please.”
As soon as they were settled with their hot drinks, Weezer eyeballed him and said, “Out with it, son. What’s going on?”
“Kylie found out Libby and I had been married.”
“I see.” Weezer waited for him to continue.
Briefly he explained about the field trip and Kylie’s sense of betrayal.
“Small wonder,” Weezer said. “How did you and Libby handle it when she came over yesterday?”
“How else? We told her the truth.”
“And that was?”
Under her scrutiny, he felt like a small boy needing to confess.
“I explained I had loved Libby when we were married just as I had loved her mother.”
“What did you tell her about now?”
“I told her I loved Libby.” A peace he had not felt in months settled over him.
“What did Libby have to say about that?”
“That she liked me. Kylie, however, heard only what she wanted to hear.” He toyed with the handle of his mug. “She, uh, told us to get married.”
He could swear a smile was flirting with Weezer’s lips. “And what do you think of that idea?”
He couldn’t hold back his broad grin. “I think it’s an ideal solution for everyone. The problem is getting Lib to agree.”
“I don’t think that’s going to be particularly difficult.”
“You don’t?”
“I never knew you to run from a challenge. Heck, boy, you thrive on them.”
“I’ve hired Chad’s daughter to sit with Kylie this evening. Lib and I need to talk about the past. What happened…then.”
“I reckon it’s time, son.”
“For Kylie’s sake, I have to get this settled soon. It won
’t do for her to have false hopes.”
“Sometimes children see more than we do. I’m betting on her intuition.” Then Weezer’s crinkly brown face broke into a satisfied grin.
As soon as he returned to the office, Trent called and left a message on Libby’s home answering machine. He would feed Kylie, get her tucked in and arrive at Libby’s shortly after eight-thirty. Surely she wouldn’t refuse. She knew how important this meeting was.
AS SOON AS she returned home, Libby stripped off her dress and threw on a pair of faded jeans and a worn MSU sweatshirt. The past few days had been emotionally draining, and despite Kylie’s hint about Trent coming over, she had not heard from him. Just as well. She was looking forward to a quiet evening at home with Mona, a good book and soothing classical music. She needed time to gather herself and examine her feelings. It wasn’t fair to leave Doug hanging, nor should she let Kylie nurture false hopes.
She fixed herself a cup of tea and a chicken-salad sandwich and sat at the table, eating and poring over the local newspaper. A small item at the bottom of an inside page caught her attention. Trent Baker had joined the area search and rescue team. That figured. When they were in college, he had been thrilled to be invited to train with the group and had often been first on the scene when an emergency call came through. In the beginning she’d been proud of him, but later she had felt neglected when, instead of coming home after meetings, he would go out with his team buddies. She set down her sandwich. Was that fair? Had it really been that way, or in her insecurity, had she put unrealistic expectations on a man who relished adventure and enjoyed male companionship?
She pushed a crumb around her plate with her forefinger. Her father had died, her stepfather had been detached and unaffectionate. Had she looked to her young husband to right all the wrongs—real and imagined—done to her by the men in her life? A pretty big load for a guy just out of college.
And what of Doug? Did she expect him to fulfill her fantasy of marriage and family? In a moment of searing honesty, she asked a big question: Could any man provide her with enough love to compensate for those years of loneliness or the ache in her heart unfulfilled by children of her own?
Her appetite gone, she carried the dishes to the sink, only then noticing the blinking light on her answering machine.
The first message immediately tapped into her guilt—Doug, reminding her he was giving her time and hinting at how difficult it was to be patient.
But the second one tapped into far more unsettling emotions—fear, desire and a sense of inevitability. Trent was coming over.
TRENT HAD NO IDEA exactly how he would persuade Libby to give him a second chance. But with a certainty that had nothing to do with the sexual urgency and naiveté of first love, he knew she was the woman with whom he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He’d struggled with his grief and loneliness for long enough. He would always be grateful he’d had Ashley in his life, but it was time to prove to Libby he was a wiser, better man now.
With Kylie’s words of encouragement ringing in his ears, he approached Libby’s door. Spits of sleet-like snow, driven by a bitter north wind, attacked the pavement. Would he find shelter from the storm in Libby’s arms, or would the storm inside rival the one without?
She cared about Kylie. He knew that. But he needed her to care about him.
He stamped his feet on the stoop, then rang the bell. The minute she opened the door, he realized just how important these next few moments would be. “I hope I’m not inconveniencing you, but I figured we couldn’t put this off any longer.”
She looked up at him, her eyes clouded. “I agree.” She motioned him toward the living room. “Can I get you something to drink?”
He would kill for a beer, but that could wait. “No, thanks.”
He took a seat at the end of the sofa close to the rocking chair, knowing she would settle in it.
She sat down, gripping the arms of the rocker. “How did Kylie seem tonight?”
“Happy. She had a good day in school.”
“I’m glad.”
“There is a more important reason she’s happy.”
Libby looked down. “I know.”
It was time to get it all out in the open. “She’s convinced we’re going to remarry.”
Libby said nothing, just continued the gentle rocking motion. At last she glanced up. “How can we let her down with minimum damage?”
Trent’s chest constricted. Was she saying there was no chance? He never took his eyes off her. “Do we have to ‘let her down’?”
“There’s too much history, Trent.”
“I’d hoped we could talk about that.”
“Why? Nothing can undo the past.”
“Not if you keep us from going there.”
She stood abruptly and moved toward the hearth, then stopped with her back to him, peering into the flames. After several moments she pivoted to face him. “You’re not a bad man. And you’ve done a good job with Kylie. But…” Her voice trailed off and she studied the ceiling as if the words she sought were inscribed there.
He forced himself to remain seated, to prepare himself for the blow that was coming.
“Go on.”
She wiped her palms on her jeans. “I can never forget that you didn’t want our baby. That you didn’t care when…” She couldn’t finish, and he caught the quick sheen of tears before she wheeled back to face the fire.
He crossed the room in two steps and put his arms around her from behind, cradling her into his chest, burying his face in her hair. “Oh, Lib, nothing is further from the truth.” She was unresponsive in his arms, but didn’t disengage herself. “I hurt you, even more than I knew at the time. But we’ve never spoken about it. That’s my fault. I was an immature jerk. But I want to talk about it now.” He shifted her around to face him, then tilted her chin so that she couldn’t avoid his eyes. “Please, Lib.”
“I suppose we have to. I have to.”
“Regardless of what happens in the future, we both need to understand what happened then—” he swallowed hard “—with the baby.”
Libby pulled away, averting her face.
“But before we begin, I want you to know I love you now in a way I was incapable of loving you before. I was too self-centered, too insensitive…too scared.”
“Scared? You were never scared. Of anything.”
He picked up her hand. “That’s where you’re dead wrong. I was petrified.”
She looked at him directly. “Of what?”
He led her to the sofa and sat close to her, his arm resting loosely around her shoulder. “Of everything. Most especially of being a lousy father.”
“You could’ve learned. Look how well you do with Kylie.”
“All I could think of when you told me you were pregnant was what a screwup I’d be. Just like my father. Like maybe a child would be too much for me, too. What if I had his genes? What if I walked out? And if I didn’t, how would I ever be able to provide everything a kid would need? Hell, I didn’t even have a steady job or the ghost of a career plan then. A baby would have to have diapers, clothes, a jungle gym. Then an older kid would need braces, dancing lessons, a car and, jeez, college. I was overwhelmed, Lib. You were so obsessed with your pregnancy and decorating the nursery and the baby book and all, I—”
At the mention of the baby book, Libby whipped her head around. “Cry me a river.”
He stared at her, stunned, her uncharacteristic sarcasm killing him.
She scooted away from him, then drew her legs up against her chest, her defensive pose putting more than physical distance between them. “I’m supposed to feel sorry for you? Excuse me all to heck for getting pregnant, but last I checked with the biology book, it takes two. But that was all just fun for you, right?”
He winced, remembering their uninhibited lovemaking. Had he put his own satisfaction ahead of her needs? “I loved you.”
“Well, you had a peculiar way of showing it. What? I suppose you blamed
me that the condom broke?”
“Aw, Lib, you know better than that,” he protested, swiping a hand through his hair.
“Do I? You’ll never know how much I wanted our baby, Trent. Do you have any idea what it felt like when I started cramping, then bleeding? Hugging my arms around my stomach in the crazed, futile notion I could prevent what was happening? And where were you? Off on some camping trip with your buddies. Having fun. Fun!” She spat the word.
Trent hung his head. “You shouldn’t have been alone.”
Her eyes flashed. “No, I shouldn’t. But no unpleasant messes for you. Women’s business, right? And what kind of sympathy did I get when you finally did show up?”
He closed his eyes, anticipating the worst, yet understanding that until she spewed out her bitterness and pain, they would have no chance for a future.
“You said, ‘We can always have another baby.’” Her face was taut with scorn. “You didn’t get it, did you? Another baby was the furthest thing from my mind. I loved that baby. I wanted that baby. I was grieving that baby. But all you could do was talk about the next one, as if the precious life that had died within me was disposable. Or forgettable.” She stared at him, her mouth set. “Let me tell you something, Trent. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t mourn our lost child.”
Silence filled the room and Trent knew he deserved every one of the ugly words she had flung at him. They were all true. He had been a total shit. How could he not have understood how important their child had been to her? His stomach turned. What if Kylie, like that doomed little life, had never been born?
“Well, aren’t you going to say something?” Her eyes glittered, but he could tell she was refusing to give in to the relief of tears.
“I deserve every last one of your judgments. I hurt you.”
“And you moved on and I didn’t.”
“So we divorced. Two people at very different stages.”
She relented. “That was then.”
“Lib, I’m not that same man. I’ve learned a lot.” His voice caught. “I’m asking you to give me a chance. Much as I would like to, I can never change the past, but I can promise you a very different future.”
