“Why didn’t you just knock on the door?” Connor asked. “And try to explain all this? Why break in?”
She turned to him with a world-weary look. “Because I knew you wouldn’t let me in. You’d think I was just another stupid girl who got pregnant then decided she didn’t like having a baby after all.”
“You’re not?” he asked mercilessly.
“I was,” she admitted candidly after a moment. “I thought I knew everything. I thought I knew Max’s father. I thought he meant it when he said he loved me, that he didn’t mean it when he said he didn’t want a baby, and I thought when he saw our beautiful Max he’d come back.” Tears streamed down her pale, peaked face. “I think he’s surfing somewhere in Mexico.” She sniffed. Shelly offered her a box of tissues and she took one. “Thank you. Things got so bad before that I…I panicked. It wasn’t that I wanted time to party or anything, it was just that I didn’t have any money, and I couldn’t get a job and take care of Max, too, so I left him at the coffee shop. I’d read the article about how all you Main Street Millionaires just got your money.” The girl smiled shakily. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Shelly studied the big-eyed little face but couldn’t honestly say that she did.
“I’m Valerie Simms. I came to town looking for work when I left with Max’s father. I was waiting for the truck to pick me up and I didn’t have money for breakfast. But I bought a small orange juice. You asked me if I wanted something to go with it, and when I told you I didn’t have the money, you made me pancakes and bacon. I never forgot that.”
Shelly only vaguely remembered the incident. She often fed someone she thought was in need. She thought of it as her pro bono work.
“I’ll make some coffee,” Connor said, going toward the kitchen. “We can call Luke later.”
The girl watched him walk away. “The paper said he’s the new doctor and that he’s your boyfriend.”
“He is the new doctor,” Shelly said. “He’s been helping me with Max.”
“He doesn’t like me.”
“He loves Max,” she explained. “And he comes from a big city where a lot of babies are abused and neglected. He doesn’t like it when mothers mistreat their children.”
The girl looked up at her and Shelly could see in her eyes that she’d been plagued by guilt since she’d left Max on the Cup’s counter. “I thought I was doing the right thing for him.”
“The right thing,” Shelly said gently, “if you were sure you had to give him up, would have been to take him to a CFS office.”
“I didn’t want just anyone to get him,” she said. “I wanted you to have him.”
“I was going to tell the caseworker tomorrow that I want to adopt him,” Shelly said.
The girl caught her hands and when tears would have threatened again, she fought them off with a brave intake of breath. “I want him back, Miss Dupree,” she said, her eyes pleading. “I know what I did was awful, but this time without him has proved to me that whatever happens, Max and I are a family and I can’t live without him. I’ve been miserable.”
“He’s been comfortable and happy,” Shelly said, trying to be heartless, certain she was better for Max than this girl could ever be. “I think you have to consider what’s best for him, rather than what’s best for you.”
“I know that’s true,” Valerie said. Shelly saw in her expressive eyes that she did. “But he’s mine! I was scared a week ago, but now I know I can raise my baby. I have job applications out all over. It’s just that now that Christmas is over, nobody needs extra help. But I’m going to find something.”
Connor appeared with three mugs of coffee.
“Have you eaten?” Shelly asked Valerie.
Valerie nodded. “I’m fine.” She looked miserable.
“I read about what you did in the paper. About the guys who wanted to take Max because you opened a bank account for him.” She frowned suddenly. “You probably think that’s why I’m here. Because of the bank account.”
Shelly wished she could say with righteous indignation that she did, but she didn’t. The girl’s anguish was too real. “No, I don’t,” she said.
Valerie turned to Connor, who sat in the chair opposite the sofa. “I’ll bet you do,” she accused quietly.
“It’s hard for me to know what to think of you,” he said reasonably. “You abandoned your baby, then you broke into Shelly’s house. It’s hard to have good thoughts about someone who’d do either of those things. On the other hand, it sounds as though you’ve had a difficult time. And when you explain the reasons behind what you did…” He drew a breath and sipped at his coffee. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess it all depends on whether or not you’re telling the truth. And we won’t know that until Luke checks it out for us in the morning.”
She looked as though she’d lost her lifeline. But she nodded. “Do you think I could see Max before I go?”
Shelly couldn’t imagine depriving her of the sight of her son. “Yes. Come with me.” She brought her up to the bedroom where Max slept like an angel.
“He didn’t sleep very well for me,” Valerie whispered, tears literally raining down her face as she put a hand gently on Max’s tummy. “He was fussy most of the time.”
Shelly nodded. “We’ve been up with him a lot. He’s just beginning to settle down a little.”
“He’s so beautiful!”
“Yes.”
Valerie looked around at the little bit of the room visible in the light from the hallway. Then she turned back to her son, her eyes wild with pain. “I’m not sure I could ever give him a house like this.”
All kinds of responses leaped to Shelly’s tongue. She was as surprised as Valerie when the words that came out were empathetic. “He doesn’t need a particular kind of house, Valerie. Just a particular kind of mother. One who’ll love him no matter what.”
Valerie hurried out of the room and down the stairs. Shelly stood alone in the hallway, contemplating her options. She hated all of them.
She could try to fight for Max and possibly win at least temporary custody until Valerie had a chance to prove more adult behavior to the court.
Or she could admit to herself that Valerie had done the best she could in a very difficult life and that when it came to the crunch, she’d given her baby to a woman she knew was kind—an action anyone would be hard-pressed to criticize.
And—hell—she could take the high road and do what she could to help this girl who really needed a break. Maybe even deserved one.
Connor and Valerie stood side by side, Connor’s size dwarfing the girl’s petite stature. He had a hand to her shoulder, in comfort this time, Shelly guessed.
“…tough, I know,” he was saying, “but sometimes you just have to own up to a bad decision and deal with the results as gracefully as you can. How you handle it will make a difference the next time you’re faced with a problem.”
Valerie nodded and wrapped her thin jacket more tightly around herself. “What time should I be back to talk to the sheriff?” she asked. “I promise I’ll come.”
“It’s so late,” Shelly replied. It wasn’t what she’d intended to say, it just came out. “You can stay the night here, then we’ll talk to the sheriff in the morning. The caseworker from Pine Run is due also. So we can talk to her about Max.”
Valerie stared at Shelly in disbelief. “You mean…stay here?” she asked after a moment.
“It’s just a bed,” Shelly said. “Maybe breakfast. And Max stays in my room.”
The girl continued to stare, then nodded.
“Go on up. Take the room at the top of the stairs. Do you have to call your friend’s mom or anyone?”
Valerie shook her head. “They work nights at a janitorial company. I’ll call in the morning and tell them I’m here.”
“Okay. See you in the morning.”
With one last confused look at Shelly, Valerie climbed the stairs.
“What are you doing?” Connor a
sked the moment the girl was out of earshot.
Her momentary courage and nobility gone, Shelly turned to him, her faced crumpling, her arms reaching blindly for him.
He swore softly and took her into his embrace. “Shelly, she’s probably a sweet kid,” he said quietly, “but she abandoned her baby. You deserve Max. Max deserves you. Don’t go getting unnecessarily noble because her regrets break your heart.”
She didn’t have the breath or the will to argue with him. “Please come up with me,” she said.
He swept her up in his arms without answering and carried her to her room. She went to the crib and stood over it for a long moment, pain visible in every line of her body. Then she climbed into bed with her robe still on, and he kicked off his shoes and followed. She curled into him and wrapped her arm around his waist. She wept until the alarm rang at five o’clock.
She climbed out of bed with a calm Connor found a little unsettling.
“I have to go open the restaurant,” she said, “and see if I can get Betsy to come in and cover for me again. If you want to come with me,” Shelly told Valerie, who stood uncertainly in the middle of the hallway, “I’ll get you some breakfast, and you can call your friend’s mother so she doesn’t worry about you.”
“Okay,” Valerie said.
Shelly turned to Connor. “You coming, too?”
He couldn’t determine whether she wanted his company, or if she needed time alone with Valerie. He was sure that she was in a dangerous mood this morning. She was courteous, even smiled, but it was as though she’d built a wall around herself as something indeterminate went on in her mind. Even Valerie seemed to notice and was watching her worriedly.
“I’m coming,” he replied. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll shower downstairs.”
A little cry came from the crib in Shelly’s bedroom. Valerie’s eyes darted to it and she took a step toward it, but stopped when Shelly went into the bedroom. Connor grudgingly gave Valerie credit for deferring to her.
Shelly carried a very bright-eyed Max out of the bedroom. Apparently unable to help herself, Valerie went to them.
“Hi, Maxie,” Valerie said softly, her voice thick with tears. “Hi, baby.”
Max looked at her with no more interest than he would have another stranger.
She put a hand up to him and he caught her index finger and brought it to his mouth. Tears slid down her cheeks.
Shelly tried to put him in Valerie’s arms, but he fussed and reached for Shelly.
“It’s okay,” Valerie said with a painful sniff. “He doesn’t remember me. I…I didn’t think that would happen so fast.”
“He has a bottle in the refrigerator,” Shelly said, rocking him from side to side. “I bet he’ll let you give it to him while I shower.”
Valerie walked dejectedly down the stairs to retrieve it.
“You’re not leaving her alone with him,” Connor challenged.
“You’ll be here,” she said, going back into the bedroom with him, pulling a few things out of her closet.
Connor thought the next half hour was like watching scenes in a movie. The little life he and Shelly and Max had shared, though fraught with his disagreements with Shelly, had seemed real and affecting. He’d once imagined the three of them being together forever and it had felt right.
Then they’d decided it wouldn’t work after all. But now he was here and she seemed to appreciate that. Would she change her mind about marrying him now if she was going to fight for custody? Or did she intend to do something that might mean she wouldn’t need him at all?
It was impossible to tell by her quiet, unrevealing face.
With his bottle for comfort, Max was willing to let Valerie hold him. He looked up at her with interest and maybe even some kind of tiny baby memory of the past. His little fingers opened and closed on the bottle as he drank greedily and studied her.
Unable to watch any longer, Connor went to sit on the top stair, pain wrenching at his gut.
He heard Shelly come out of the shower. “Your turn,” he heard her say to Valerie. “I know you don’t have a change of clothes, but I can lend you a sweater. It won’t matter if it’s too big.”
When he heard the bathroom door close behind Valerie, he went downstairs to get himself ready for what he guessed was bound to be a difficult day.
They were a little late arriving at the Cup, and a few of the regulars were already there, sitting at the counter with their cups, watching the coffee drip.
Shelly handed Valerie the baby and pointed her to the playpen in the corner. “He spends a lot of the day there, getting attention from everyone who comes and goes.”
Dan raised an eyebrow at Connor at the sight of Valerie. “The mother?” he asked under his breath.
“So she claims,” Connor replied.
Dan swore.
“Yeah,” Connor concurred, and waited with everyone else for a cup of coffee while Shelly called Betsy.
The pot was finally full and he was about to walk around the counter and get it when Valerie appeared, tying on an apron and reaching for the pot. She poured cups for Dean and his cronies, who studied her interestedly. Irene had come in and was crooning at Max.
“New waitress?” Dean asked.
Valerie smiled. “For this morning, anyway.”
“We usually sit in the back booth.”
She nodded. “Go ahead. I’ll just pour Connor’s coffee, find an order pad and be right back there.”
Connor pointed to the cubbyhole under the cash register where he’d seen Shelly put her pads.
Valerie pulled one out, studied it a moment then took a quick look at a menu tucked behind the napkin holder. She drew a breath and headed for Dean’s booth.
Shelly hurried out of the back, shrugging into her cobbler apron, and stopped in surprise at the sight of Valerie waiting on Dean’s booth.
“You put her to work?” she asked Connor.
“No,” he replied. “She took it upon herself. You get covered for today?”
“Yes. But she can’t be here for another hour.”
“Did you call Luke?”
She glanced at the clock. “He doesn’t answer, but he’ll probably be in for breakfast in half an hour. What would you like to eat?”
He caught her hand as she would have reached for the coffeepot to refill the cup he’d already drained.
“Shelly, what are you going to do?” he asked. She seemed as though she existed somewhere beyond his reach, and even though he had a hold of her wrist, he really hadn’t made contact.
She looked into his eyes, expelled a breath, and he knew she’d come back from wherever she’d retreated to to prepare for the day.
“I honestly don’t know.”
“You want to talk about it?”
Even as Connor asked the question, the coffee shop door opened and two burly men in coveralls walked in, followed by Jack Hartman and two women he didn’t know.
Shelly indicated them with a tilt of her head. “Who has time to talk? Pancakes and bacon before the rush is on?”
He drew his hand back and held out his cup, resigned to being left in the dark. “Sure.”
After breakfast, he stepped outside to call Nathan at home and explain what had happened. He promised to take weekend call if Nathan would cover him today.
“Of course,” Nathan said. “Shelly still planning to file for custody?”
“I don’t know,” Connor replied. “But I’ll keep you posted.”
“Please do. And remember that she’ll love you best for letting her do what she wants to do.”
“Even if it’s wrong?”
“If she wants to do it, she won’t think it’s wrong. And sometimes when you’re determined to do something, you can make it turn out right.”
“Paymaster and philosopher. Thanks, Nathan.”
“Sure. See you.”
LUKE WAS LATE for breakfast.
Shelly looked worriedly at the clock, but she didn’t have time to speculate on
what was keeping him, when Harvey Brinkman walked in with his photographer.
“Relax, doll,” he said, when she fixed him with a threatening look, a plate of scrambled eggs in one hand and sausage and biscuits in the other. “I’m just here to do a story about your projects board.” He pointed to the board Jack had mounted for her near the door.
She looked at it in some surprise. She’d been so deep in her own thoughts the past few days that she’d failed to notice how many of the townspeople had weighed in on what projects they wanted tackled first. Connor, who’d been reading the paper in the back booth, waiting for Luke’s arrival, started to get up as though ready to intervene.
She stayed him with a raised hand.
“All right,” she said grudgingly to Harvey. “Sit down and I’ll bring you some coffee.”
His photographer took a long shot of the board, then an up-close shot of the top contenders for immediate action. Harvey copied the list, then noted a few of the comments voters had tacked on to their decisions.
“Looks like the church roof’s got it,” Harvey said as she brought two cups of coffee to the first booth where he had tossed his jacket. He leaned in to read one of the comments. “‘So it doesn’t rain in on our Valentine vows.’” He turned to her. “What’s that?” the photographer asked.
“Every Valentine’s Day,” she explained after delivering her order, “married couples promise to keep loving each other. Engaged couples, and those just in love, promise to keep trying to understand each other and give to each other. Anyone who wants to come is welcome. Then there’s a dance in the church hall.”
“Cute,” he said.
She groaned privately and cleared a table. Cute. Only someone who’d never loved anybody could think that the daily effort to understand and choose to love was “cute.”
And then it hit her, like one of the overhead lights falling on her head. She knew what love was about! She felt it for Connor. He loved her! Well, he had once.
But she was trying to hold on to her cute little life because—God! Connor was right!—marriage would make her a grown-up. And so far, all she’d ever been to anyone, even years after their deaths, was her parents’ daughter. And that was no one’s fault but her own.
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