The Marriage Solution

by Megan Kelly

  “Your parents relented and joined forces with you when you didn’t expect them to. They even made an effort to get here today, even though it was out of their way, and it wasn’t even for their biological grandchild. They probably didn’t really have time, but it was important to you, so they came.”

  Her stomach uncramped. She didn’t understand his objective here, but it didn’t seem to have anything to do with him leaving her. “I’m thrilled about that. Their effort didn’t escape my notice. But I’m still really confused where you’re going with this.”

  “Just think about it. Maybe being around Jimmy would thaw out Jay’s parents.”

  She jerked away, caught off guard. The situation with the two sets of grandparents were nothing alike. How could he not understand that?

  “Dylan, the Summerfields want to take Jimmy away from me. Not visit. Not have dinner with him. Not even have him stay for a sleepover. Take custody of Jimmy from me.”

  “You thought your folks were unapproachable and now they’re blending in to our family. Or trying to. Maybe if you gave Jay’s parents the opportunity, they’d see what a good mother you are and drop the case.”

  “Forget it. I don’t want the Summerfields anywhere around us.”

  “But—”

  “They sicced an investigator on me,” she exclaimed, “or are you forgetting that photograph?”

  “I’m not forgetting anything, and I’m not saying they aren’t committing a terrible, misguided act right now.” Dylan inhaled some patience. “They might back down if we gave them some reason to feel included in Jimmy’s life.”

  “No. No, no, no. This isn’t up for debate.” She slid the door open, unable to stand and calmly discuss this with Dylan.

  “Mom.” Jimmy popped up in front of her on the patio, startling her with his quiet voice. “Can we go home?”

  Alarm shot through her. She bent and ran her gaze over his face but couldn’t detect any illness or distress. Had his quiet voice stemmed from a sore throat?

  Dylan knelt beside her.

  “What the matter, honey?” she asked. “Are you feeling sick? Is it your throat or your tummy?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “I’m tired.”

  “He’s not used to swimming, is he?” Dylan said. “That might have taken it out of you, eh, sport? Or too much cake?”

  “I guess.”

  She didn’t like his whispering. He didn’t mention a sore ear but an infection might make him lower his voice to decrease the noise level. She wished Anne hadn’t had to lie down. Having a former nurse in the family would come in handy, but Tara couldn’t ask her to get up and look at Jimmy. He hadn’t even complained of any pain.

  “Go,” Dylan said to Tara.

  She glanced from his face to Jimmy to the tables outside in the yard. “But there’s so much to clean up. I can’t leave it all sitting there.”

  He stood. “I’ll help clean up here. Lily can stay with me so you can take care of the champ here. We’ll get a ride home with Mom later.”

  She hugged Jimmy to her side. “Are you sure?”

  “That’s the benefit of a two-parent household.” He gave her a wicked smile. “Well, one of the benefits.”

  “Thank you. I know you’re unhappy with me about my decision on the other matter, so it’s really sweet of you to be so understanding.”

  He shook his head. “Tara, just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I’d want Jimmy to wait around here while you put away food. The boy’s sick. Take him home.”

  She left with Jimmy while Lily was inside with Cait. His daughter barely blinked to find Tara gone. None of the other kids complained of upset stomachs, which reassured him about bad food or a virus. Jimmy would be fine in the morning.

  Dylan took shifts cleaning the kitchen while his mom and Adam alternated checking on Anne. Before too long, Adam got shooed back outside and directed the kids in cleaning up the yard while he covered the pool. Everyone had a job, even the little ones who gathered up toys.

  Dylan called home to check on Jimmy, who hadn’t thrown up but had gone straight to sleep after his bath. He didn’t have a fever, which was a huge relief.

  When Dylan returned to the kitchen, Adam was tending a pot of spaghetti. Dylan didn’t know why his brother would cook again today—there would be leftovers for a week. But sometimes keeping busy took a man’s mind off things, so Dylan didn’t give his brother a hard time. The poor guy was worried sick about Anne.

  Adam picked up Penny from her high chair and rocked away her fretful tears. Dylan could hear the children still playing outside in the half hour left to them before sunset.

  “I think Mom’s up to something,” Dylan said. “A few times I’ve called her at home and she’s been out. When I asked where she’d been, she didn’t have an explanation. Said she couldn’t remember.”

  “So?”

  “It’s like when she planned that trip to Europe without telling us. It makes me wonder what she’s up to now.”

  “What do you think is going on?” Adam asked.

  “Do you think she’s dating someone?”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Absolutely. That’s the obvious answer. Let’s shine a light in Mom’s eyes until she confesses.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. I’m just saying she’s acting suspicious. She was late getting here to help you guys the other week. She never breaks her word, especially about babysitting.”

  And he and Tara had wound up together. Had his mom been matchmaking? Nah. As she’d barely even mentioned him getting married before he sprang his announcement on her, he discounted that possibility. His mom wasn’t built like that.

  “So every time someone’s acting suspiciously, they’re secretly dating?” Adam shook his head. “Man, you’ve got something on your mind, but I don’t think it has anything to do with Mom. It’s Tara. Marriage has turned you into a romantic.”

  “Now you are being an ass.”

  Water boiled out of the spaghetti pot behind Adam, making a bubbly mess. He took a step, stopped, then turned and thrust the baby into Dylan’s arms before going to the stove.

  “I could get the spaghetti,” Dylan said, going into a sway that had become second nature with his nieces and nephews. If only he could bundle Lily in his arms and soothe her this way. Pain pierced him as he thought of all the time he’d missed with her as a baby, time he could never recover.

  “You deal with Penny.” Adam ran a hand across his jaw. “She’s too young to be teething, but I swear the kid never stops fussing.”

  Dylan crooned to his red-faced niece, watching his brother from the corner of his eye. Adam had always been unflappable with the other seven babies, even when they’d arrived as triplets and twins. He’d been a model father, who Dylan had planned to emulate someday.

  He just hadn’t planned to start so soon and definitely not with a toddler who shied from him.

  Seeing Adam now, Dylan wondered if his brother had coped well only because he had Anne. Their marriage was a true partnership, based on the love that was driving Adam crazy right now. “You’re worried.”

  Adam tossed a look over his shoulder before cocking the lid on the pot to let steam escape.

  “Why don’t you let me handle the kids for tonight? Lily’s fine here with Cait, and Tara won’t mind if I stay over. You could take care of Anne.”

  “We’re fine.” Adam dropped into a chair and held his arms out.

  “Penny’s okay with me.” Dylan stepped out of reach. “Honestly, bro, you look like—” he glanced around for little ears “—a bag of you-know-what.”

  Adam’s lips lifted in a humorless smile. “I gave up swearing when Mary started talking. Anne called them ‘construction words.’ The babysitters were horrified when my sweet baby girl blurted them out like show tunes.”

  Dylan laughed. “I remember. Mom wasn’t too crazy about it either. But seriously, go get some sleep. I’ll clean up the kitchen, then stuff the kids in their closets for the night.” He glanced
down at the snuffling angel in his arms, quieting now. “All but you, Penny-poo. We’ll stay up and watch movies.”

  “No porn.”

  “So you’ll let me help?”

  Adam opened his mouth just as a scream sounded outside. Panic clenched Dylan’s gut. Lily? He and Adam rushed out to see Jane shaking Bethany, who was lying on the ground near the play set. The other children stood frozen with horror, gazes glued to their little sister.

  “What happened?” Adam called, white-faced. “Jane, don’t shake her.”

  Jane jumped to her feet, tears streaming down her face, and tucked her hands behind her back. “Daddy. I didn’t do anything. She…she fell off the bar.”

  Adam squatted next to his three-year-old with Dylan beside him. “I know, honey,” Adam said. “It’ll be all right.”

  “I’ll get Mom.” Paul dashed toward the house.

  Jane cried louder, her words incoherent. Dylan pulled her to his side, shifting Penny to a more secure hold to hug the distraught six-year-old. He yearned to push his brother aside, to do something, but instinct told him to let Adam handle it. Adam had probably handled hurt children numerous times in his nine years of fatherhood.

  “What’s wrong?” Dylan asked. “Did she hit her head?”

  Adam leaned over his child, ear to her face. “I can’t tell if she’s breathing.”

  Several of the kids screamed and began calling for Bethany, their mom and dad, anyone to help.

  Adam glanced at the house, obviously looking for Anne. “Call 911.”

  He could tell his brother was about to panic, and Anne might not even be coherent—Dylan thought she might have taken something for the pain before lying down. He needed to do something.

  God, help me.

  Letting loose of Jane, he retrieved his cell phone from its holster on his hip. He thrust a now-squirming Penny at Adam, then the phone. “You call.”

  The children surrounded them now, most stunned into silence at the sight of their sister on the ground, all of them crying. Lily had come over, standing with the girls, tears streaming down her face.

  Dylan took a breath to calm himself, then leaned over Bethany and went through the basic ABCs of first aid: airways, breathing and circulation. As he inspected her, following the training he took as a diver, he added in liberal doses of the letter P: praying for help.

  Establishing her nose and throat were clear, he placed a hand lightly on her chest and leaned down to listen for breathing, hovering near her nose and mouth. No breeze brushed his ear. “I think she just had the breath knocked out of her.”

  He prayed it was so. Otherwise, he’d have to give her a recovery breath and start CPR. He heard Adam giving his address to the emergency operator. Dylan ran his hands over Bethany’s limbs and ribs, checking for breaks, then raised her arms over her head.

  Anne rushed out with his mom and Paul trailing behind. “Bethany!”

  They were just getting here? Could so little time have passed since Jane’s first scream? Fear had stretched the time into hours.

  Bethany gasped. Dylan halted his examination as the kids froze around him. Adam caught Anne as she fell to her knees beside Dylan and their daughter.

  Bethany gulped and coughed, trying to sit up. Her eyes opened and Dylan’s breath whooshed out in relief.

  Anne put a hand on her shoulder in restraint. “Stay still, baby.”

  Adam pushed Dylan out of the way and bent over Bethany to hug her close. “Honey, are you okay?”

  Dylan looked around for Penny, relieved to see her fretting on the grass where Adam must have lain her down.

  Christopher whooped with joy and jumped around cheering, followed by Paul. Lily and the girls cried harder, smiling and hugging each other, but Brian stood white-faced and frozen, staring at his twin. Dylan folded him to his chest, whispering into his hair. “She’ll be okay. She’ll be fine. Bethany’s okay.”

  Brian went limp, collapsing in his arms and sobbing. Dylan squeezed his eyes to stem tears of his own. He met Lily’s gaze; she didn’t look away. When she smiled, he considered it a huge step forward.

  Dylan started to laugh, as exuberant as the boys. He’d come through this trial, kept his head and relied on his training, which had, thankfully, leapt vividly to his memory when he needed it. And Lily had smiled at him.

  For the first time since bringing his daughter home, Dylan felt optimistic about his future as a parent.

  “Thank God everything turned out all right,” his mom said later as he sat with her and Adam in the kitchen, sneaking a second piece of cake while the children played in their rooms. “What a chaotic day. Makes my plans seem tame in comparison.”

  Dylan paused with the root beer bottle to his lips. He shared a bewildered glance with his brother. Hah! he wanted to shout in Adam’s face. Which son knew his mother better?

  But her tone, as matter-of-fact as if she’d just mentioned the Royals baseball score instead of some mysterious plans of hers, worried him. He did know her, well enough to recognize that her nonchalance masked something he wasn’t going to like. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m confident Anne will get a clean bill of health on Monday, so I’ve rescheduled my trip. I’m leaving for Europe next Friday.”

  Chapter Nine

  Tara had her hands full that week, trying to absorb all Betty had to tell her about running the Wee Care. With preschool classes finished for the summer, she had less to worry about on that front, but more children enrolled in day care. The summer employees had been trained and were working their third week already. The routine was set. Tara just had the pressure of keeping a well-oiled machine running smoothly.

  The older woman’s announcement had rocked the Ross world.

  Tara sat at her own desk for a break, recalling Dylan’s arrival home from the party Saturday. After she’d left with Jimmy, Bethany had fallen and Betty had dropped her bombshell.

  Her announcement had certainly rocked Dylan, at least. Adam and Anne were handling it fine. Anne’s doctor appointment and subsequent testing had revealed unexplained migraines, but at least there was medication to ease her pain until a further diagnosis could be achieved.

  Dylan’s pain was a different kettle of fish. Plainly put, he’d panicked.

  “We’ll be fine,” he’d said when he told her about Betty’s leaving. He sat beside her in the living room, holding her hands. His earnest blue eyes had filled with both trepidation and determination. “We can get through this.”

  “I’m sure we can.” Tara hid her amusement. Good grief, his mother was only leaving for five weeks, not even the three months she’d originally planned.

  “Right. Don’t worry. I’ll be here to help you.”

  “Thanks.” He was the sweetest man sometimes.

  “It’s just you and me now. We can get through everything if we trust each other. No going off to see Jay without discussing it with me. No relying on Adam and Anne—that would be me who needs reminding about that one,” he added with a sheepish smile.

  His underlying uncertainty and determination to make everything right made her chest ache with tenderness. He was trying so hard to be a good parent. He’d told her about Lily’s response to his helping Bethany.

  “She’s been looking right at me all night,” he said. The awe in his tone acknowledged this as a gift he hadn’t expected but had longed for.

  If she were ever going to fall in love with Dylan, it would be during a moment like that. When he looked so strong and scared, so brave and uncertain, so capable and needy.

  So like a man she could give her heart to. A man she could respect and trust and keep for her own.

  But then his cell phone would ring with a call from with one of his “former” girlfriends. While he hadn’t met up with any of them, he didn’t plan to be married forever.

  She’d be wise to keep that in mind.

  A WEEK AFTER HIS MOTHER LEFT, Dylan sat on the living-room couch with his laptop, having missed dinner to take part
in a phone conference with Joe and a prospective client. Tara mended clothes at the dining-room table while Lily and Jimmy set up their play area in the living room across from him. He stared into middle space, his mind occupied with a personal conundrum that couldn’t be solved, no matter how he manipulated the data.

  “Can you play forts with me, Dylan?” Jimmy asked quietly.

  “Honey,” Tara cut in, “he’s working. He can’t right now.”

  Dylan closed his laptop even though Jimmy nodded his acceptance. “I’m not getting anything done at the moment. Just thinking on a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit together.”

  “I like puzzles,” Jimmy whispered.

  “So do I, usually. This one, not so much. Maybe a break will help me think more clearly.”

  They built a block wall around Lily, who was brushing her doll’s hair to premature baldness. Jimmy guarded her and her baby from dragons, marching his little knight figurine back and forth in front of the wall. Dylan smiled at the kids playing a fairy-tale version of house and went back to the couch.

  But his work project appeared as gibberish on his monitor because he couldn’t keep his mind clear of the personal. Answers eluded him. Maybe a female perspective would lend him insight.

  “Tara.” He patted the sofa cushion so they could talk quietly and was grateful when she walked over without his having to explain. “Do you have any idea why a woman would take something that didn’t belong to her,” he nodded at Lily, “and disappear?”

  Tara glanced at the kids engrossed in their play, then eased down close beside him. “I don’t think you’ll ever know for sure.”

  “But why move where she did?” That frustrated him, the not knowing. If only she’d left a diary or written to her mom, but Violet hadn’t found anything in Rosemary’s belongings so far to give them a clue.

  “Maybe you-know-who,” Tara said, “wanted to be closer to where you grew up. Maybe she planned to contact you.”

  “I’m not sure I ever mentioned Howard or even being from Missouri. I think I said the Midwest. I just don’t remember.” Does that make me a heel? He didn’t care. Nothing he did while dating Rosemary justified her not telling him about Lily. That much he remembered.