For Now, for Always

by Lynn Turner

  He nodded jerkily and drew a deep, ragged-sounding breath, then crossed to the bar. His back was to Lacey, but she saw him reach up toward his shirt pocket. He took something out of it—she thought it was a flat pillbox—and then his hand went to his mouth before he took a couple of quick gulps of the lemonade.

  “Neil? Are you sure you’re all right?”

  His hand moved again, to replace the pillbox or whatever, she supposed, before he turned toward her. He was still pale, but his eyes burned with accusing anger.

  “No, I’m not all right!” he grated. “You didn’t tell mel Good Lord, Lacey, you’ve had over two weeks, and you deliberately kept it from me. How could you?” He broke off to rake an unsteady hand through his hair. “You wouldn’t have told me, would you? You’d have let me find out from some damned stranger on the street. Do you really hate me that much?”

  “No! Neil, I—” She took a step toward him, then stopped, spreading her hands helplessly. “I’m sorry. I know it was wrong not to tell you about the boys, but try to understand. At first, I didn’t know you intended to stay here permanently. I thought you’d be going back to Denver, and it didn’t seem fair to disrupt all our lives for the sake of a few days once or twice a year, when you could spare the time to fit in a visit.”

  Neii heard her out in a grim, tight-lipped silence, his hands gripping the edge of the bar at his back so hard his knuckles showed white.

  “All right,” he said quietly. “I’ll accept that—you were thinking of them, But you’ve known I intended to stay since last Wednesday, and why. Out at the farm, when we talked…I thought I was getting through to you, Lacey. Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to open up to you like that? Didn’t it mean anything that I bared my soul, that I all but begged?” he asked savagely.

  “Yes,” Lacey whispered tearfully. “I do know, and it did mean something.”

  “Then why? Why didn’t you tell me about my sons?” he demanded bitterly. “It would have been the perfect time.”

  “I started to,” she said in a muffled voice. “I wanted to, but then you said …” Her voice faltered, and she took a gulping breath in a futile attempt to steady it. “You said that you’d decided having children would have been a mistake, and that you were thankful we hadn’t had a child.” The last words were wrenched out in a painful spasm as she furiously blinked back tears.

  Neil closed his eyes and, if possible, paled even more. “Oh, no,” he said in a strangled voice. He swallowed again, convulsively, and then both his eyes and his arms were open as he came to her,

  “Don’t cry, baby,” he said roughly. “It’s all right, don’t cry.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lacey blubbered into his shirt as she clung to htm. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I meant to. Neil, I really did, I’ve been worried sick somebody else would before I could find a way.”

  “Shh, shh. It’s all right, I understand,” he soothed. His hands gently stroked her back and he bent to lay soft kisses on her eyelids. “I was thinking of myself when I said those things last week,” he confessed in a rough voice. “Of what it was like to grow up knowing I didn’t belong anywhere, to anybody. I only meant I wouldn’t want a child of mine—any child— to grow up like that.”

  “I should have realized,” Lacey murmured. She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks, then leaned back against his arms to look into his face. “But now that you’ve seen them, what do you think of your sons?” she asked huskily. Her eyes were dark, her mouth quivering and vulnerable.

  Neil shook his head, for a moment too moved to answer. “My sons,” he repeated, a note of wonder in his voice, and then he caught her to him, holding her tight, “They’re beautiful,” he said roughly. “Damned near perfect. How did we make two kids tike that?”

  Lacey’s laugh was shaky with nervous relief. “The usual way,” she said lightly. Then her breath seemed to catch in her throat, and Neil drew back a little to look at her.

  “What is it?” he asked with a frown.

  Lacey pulled out of his embrace and turned her back on him. When she answered, her voice was low and throaty.

  “Todd and Scott were conceived that last night,” she said simply. “Those two beautiful, nearly perfect children are the result of that night, Neil.”

  He didn’t speak, and she didn’t dare turn toward him. She hugged her arms tight across her middle, as if the pain in her heart had spread and needed containing. After a few seconds that seemed like centuries Neil slipped his arms around her from behind. She could feel the erratic beat of his heart behind his chest wall, and knew he was reliving that night, too.

  “There isn’t anything I can say that would be enough,” he murmured above her head.

  Lacey agreed. “No. Not now.”

  “Does that mean it’s too late?”

  She shook her head listlessly. “I don’t know, Neil,” she replied. “At a guess, I’d have to say yes, it’s probably too late. For us, at least.”

  “I still love you, Lacey,” he said softly. “Doesn’t that count for anything? I love you, and I want to be with you—with all of you.”

  She gave a bitter little laugh. “Love? We seem to have different ideas about what it means, Neil. You claim you loved me eight years ago, but you sure had a strange way of showing it.”

  “Stop it!”

  His hands suddenly shot out to seize her shoulders, his fingers digging into her flesh until she gasped in pain. His face was a taut white mask. “You think you’re the only one who’s had to live with that night, Lacey? You think I haven’t suffered, too?”

  “Suffered?” she responded scornfully. “Oh yes, I can just imagine the suffering and torment you went through, Neil, living in your luxurious penthouse apartment, driving to work in a thirty-thousand- dollar car, going to bed at night between silk sheets. You want to know about suffering? Suffering is having to resort to welfare checks to keep your children fed and clothed—”

  She broke off suddenly, her voice quavering as the fear, shame and indignity of that time returned in a wave of fury.

  “It was degrading and dehumanizing, and I hated it. I hated it!” she choked, her fists clenching in impotent rage.

  Neil spun away, but not before she saw the ravaged look in his eyes.

  “I didn’t know. How could I have known?”

  Lacey had her wish. His control had finally snapped, but instead of satisfaction all she felt was a faintly nauseating remorse for having brought him to this. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breathe to bring herself under control again.

  “You couldn’t,” she admitted in a flat, emotionless voice. “Anymore than I could have known what you were going through. I’m sorry, Neil. I didn’t mean to…bring all that up,” she said inadequately. “I just… that first year and a half was so bad, I try not to even think about it. But I got through it—all three of us did, and if there are scars they’re all mine, and they’re all pretty much healed. The boys were too young to know or remember any of it.”

  She hesitated, then took the two steps necessary to bring her within touching distance. Her hand faltered in midair for a moment before it came to rest on his shoulder. There had been enough hurting, on both sides. It was time to really put the past behind them, if only for the sake of the boys’ future.

  “They’re terrific kids, Neil,” she said softly. “But they’re reaching the age where they need a man around to serve as a role model. They need their father/’ she murmured. “I’d like to share them with you. It’s not too late for that, at least.”

  Neil turned slowly. His features were composed, but there was an unmistakable sheen of moisture in his eyes. As Lacey’s hand dropped, he caught and held it tight.

  “I don’t know a damned thing about being a father,” he said harshly. “I’m forty-five years old, and I haven’t had anything to do with kids since I was one. This maybe the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”

  He was watching her intently, and Lacey shook her head with the suggestion
of a smile. “Somehow I don’t think so.”

  “What if they hate me?”

  “They won’t,” she said confidently, “In the first place, I don’t think it’s in them to hate. They haven’t learned how to, yet. And I’ve never criticized you to them, tried to turn them against you. I wouldn’t do that, Neil.”

  The slight relaxing of his body told her she’d answered his unspoken question as he pulled her into his arms. He held her tight, but there was no passion in the embrace, only relief and gratitude. Lacey slipped her arms around his chest, once more surprised by the faint odor of turpentine as her cheek lay against his shirt. She could just make out a slight bulge in the pocket, and wanted to ask him about it, but this didn’t seem to be the time.

  “Thank you.” His deep, rough voice rumbled beneath Lacey’s ear, and she gave him a brief squeeze of acknowledgment. His sigh lifted her head slightly as his chest rose and fell.

  “For what it’s worth, Lacey, I’ll try to be as good a father to them as you’ve been a mother. God only knows whether or not I’ll succeed, but I’ll give it everything I’ve got.”

  “I know you will,” she murmured, and she suddenly believed it. A massive weight seemed to lift from her shoulders, and she raised her head to smile at him softly. Neil smiled back, and her breath caught at the warmth in his eyes.

  “The thing is… where do I start?” he asked with a crook of one shaggy brow.

  Lacey started to reply that he’d just have to take things as they came, like every other parent, and then a commotion outside the patio door at the end of the dinette caught her attention. Todd, Scott and the Crawford boys were struggling valiantly with the four-man tent, each one apparently trying to direct the others. Her smile widened.

  “Well… do you know how to pitch a tent?” she asked with a grin.

  CHAPTER SIX

  As Lacey and Neil stepped onto the patio they made an unspoken agreement not to reveal his identity to the twins that night. They both wanted to wait until the four of them could be alone.

  Once Neil had been recruited by the boys, Lacey stood back and watched, not offering help or advice with the tent pitching until Neil finally looked up at her in exasperation and muttered, “For pity’s sake, woman, don’t just stand there with your teeth in your mouthl Can’t you see we need a hand?”

  All four children gurgled with enjoyment, and when Lacey smiled and obliged by giving them all a round of applause their giggles turned to peals of laughter, while Neil rolled his eyes and groaned. He stood up in one lithe movement, grabbed her by a wrist and dragged her into the tent. After they helped the children spread their sleeping bags inside, Lacey fetched two flashlights and a transistor radio from the house.

  “Eight to one the batteries will all be dead in the morning,” she said as she and Neil returned to the kitchen. “How about a cup of coffee?”

  “Thanks,” he accepted easily.

  He parked himself on one of the cane-and-leather bar stoois and watched while she prepared two cups. Lacey hadn’t been at all nervous or self-conscious while they were with the children, but now suddenly she was both. Neil thanked her again when she brought him his coffee, then hooked a toe under the tubular chrome footrest of the stool next to his and pulled it away from the bar for her to sit on. It was too obvious a gesture to ignore.

  “You were right,” he said quietly when she was seated beside him. “They are terrific kids.”

  Lacey smiled as she clasped both hands around her cup, “Of course we could be just a little bit biased.”

  His solemn expression softened, and he smiled back. “Maybe just a little,” he agreed, then reached over as she set her cup down and took her hand in a light clasp. “But even allowing for parental pride, I’d have to say those are two dynamite kids. And not as identical as I thought at first, either. Scott seems to be more like you—easygoing, slow to rile. But Todd’s got my temperament. Or maybe I should say my temper,” he amended wryly, “If there’d been a tree handy, I think he might have wrapped that stake around it.”

  Lacey stared at him in amazement. Most people who’d known the twins for years still couldn’t tell one from the other, yet after less than an hour in their company Neil had accurately identified the basic differences in their personalities.

  She told him how impressed she was, adding with a trace of awe, “Even their pediatrician mixes them up now and then.”

  Neil shrugged off the idea that there was anything unusual about his perception. “Blood calls to blood,” he said in explanation. Then his gaze seemed to sharpen. “You mentioned their pediatrician. They’re healthy, aren’t they? l mean, no physical problems?”

  “Oh no,” Lacey assured him quickly. “They seem to have inherited your constitution,” she added with a smile, “They hardly ever even have colds. I have to admit to being a little overprotective, though. I can handle the scraped knees and stubbed toes all right, but at the first sign of a cough or fever I head straight for the doctor’s office. Serious illness., even the thought of it, throws me into a panic,” she admitted with an involuntary little shiver.

  Neil frowned as he turned his hand to link their fingers. “I don’t remember you being frightened of sickness.” His voice was low, almost guarded.

  “You’d remember, if you’d ever been sick,” Lacey said grimly. “I go to pieces whenever anyone I care about is seriously ill, I think it started when one of my friends in school died of leukemia. She was like a sister to me, and she was very ill for a long time. And then something happened when the boys were babies that made it worse.”

  Neil turned Sideways on the stool. “Tell me.” When he saw her reluctance he reached up to turn her face toward him, his fingers under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

  “Come on, Lacey,” he insisted softly, “I have a right to know. And I’m a big boy—I can take it,” he added in a mocking drawl.

  She kept her eyes lowered, acutely conscious of the warm pressure of his fingers on her skin. “When they were eight months old, I left them with a neighbor one afternoon to apply for a job at a discount store that was opening in our area. It was winter, and there was already a long line of people with the same idea outside the store. I caught a cold. A couple of days later it developed into pneumonia, and I had to go into the hospital. The county put the boys in a foster home until I was strong enough to take care of them again.”

  She lifted her eyes then, and the look on Neil’s face cut her to the quick. She reached up to take his hand.

  “They couldn’t have done anything else. I had no family or close friends the boys could have stayed with, and the foster couple were very nice—elderly, and kind-hearted, It was just knowing they could be taken from me, simply because I got sick. Not being able to see them, hold them, was torture, and I couldn’t help worrying that something would happen because I wasn’t there to take care of them myself.

  “Anyway,” she shrugged, attempting to ease the tension she could feel in Neil’s hands, “now you know what’s behind my terror of illness. I know it’s neurotic, but I can’t help it. I don’t take any chances. We eat well-balanced meals, take our vitamins religiously, get plenty of rest and exercise, et cetera. So you don’t have to worry,” she said with an encouraging smile. “Your sons are probably the healthiest kids in town.”

  He didn’t look reassured, and Lacey impulsively slid off her stool to stretch up and kiss the taut corner of his mouth. She felt his long release of breath against her cheek and was glad she’d made the gesture.

  “We were only separated for three weeks,” she said softly. “And they haven’t spent a night away from me since then.”

  Neil moved to lay his cheek against hers and put his arms around her, drawing her between his legs. He didn’t speak, but there was a brooding quality to his silence as he held her in a light embrace. She wished he would say something to let her know what he was thinking, and then when he did, she wished he hadn’t.

  “I guess you wouldn’t consider l
etting me stay tonight,” he murmured in her ear, his breath warm and moist.

  Lacey s mouth went dry. “I…no, I don’t think so,” she stammered.

  “I could try to convince you,” Neil suggested, his voice soft and low. His lips closed on the lobe of her ear and tugged gently, and Lacey twisted her head away,

  “Don’t,” she whispered. “Please, Neil. I’m not ready, and you promised you wouldn’t—”

  “Will you ever be ready?” he interrupted as he pulled back to look into her eyes. “Be honest, Lacey. Are you just stalling because you don’t want to come right out and tell me to take a hike?”

  “Nol” she denied at once. “I’m not just stalling! I’m still so confused about what I feel. Everything’s happened so fast, and I can’t afford to make a mistake, especially now that I’ve got the boys to think of. Can’t you give me a little time?”

  She thought for a moment that he was going to argue, but then he nodded reluctantly. “Okay. If it’s time you need, I’ll give it to you. But don’t take too long, Lacey. I don’t want to just be a visitor in your home. I want us to live together as a family. Now, more than ever. I’ve already missed so much of my sons’ lives, and I don’t intend to miss any more if i can help it. When can we tell them? Tomorrow?”

  “They have a soccer match at one,” she said thoughtfully. “Why don’t you come and watch, and then afterward we can all come back here.”

  Neil agreed, and his mobile mouth slanted crookedly as a thought occurred. “So they play soccer. I’ll bet they like pepperoni pizza, too,” A speculative look came into his eyes. “That takes care of two of your army of jocks. How about Rosetti the Shrimp? Was he just a smoke screen, too?”

  “His name is Paul Rossi, he’s not a shrimp, and I don’t know what you mean by a smoke screen,” Lacey retorted. She tried to pull out of his arms, but Neil refused to let her.

  “The truth, Lacey! How involved are you with him?”

  Irritated and flustered, she evaded a direct answer. “Paul is a very good friend,” she said, stressing the “very” a little more than the “friend.”