JOSS: A Standalone Romance (Gray Wolf Security)
Page 84
“You don’t even have to ask.”
I looked up at him, so grateful I could have kissed him.
“Thank you.”
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “I’m here for you, Penny. No matter what.”
And that brought the tears back. I brushed at my cheek as JT joined us.
“Ready?”
He looked from me to Nick and back again, and I could see that he was worried. My heart ached as I put my arm around him and led the way out to the car.
*****
We parked at the local drive-in and ordered cheeseburgers and cheese smothered tots, our favorite junk food indulgence. We didn’t really talk. JT fiddled with the radio knob, searching for music that wasn’t ‘ridiculous’ as he called anything that was written before 2005. When the food came, I picked at my burger, eating a pickle or two. But my appetite had disappeared and didn’t show signs of returning any time soon.
“So…?”
I glanced at JT. He was watching me even as he took a huge bite of his hamburger.
“What do you think of Mr. James?” I asked.
He shrugged. “He’s pretty cool. Why? Are you guys dating?”
My eyebrows rose. “What makes you ask that?”
“He was at the house this morning and you guys were fighting.”
“I’m sorry you saw that.”
He shrugged, taking another bite of the burger.
I put my burger down on the dashboard and popped a tot into my mouth. I chewed slowly as I tried to figure out how to say what needed to be said. How do you tell a kid that his biological father had just showed up out of the blue? Oh, and by the way, he’s your English teacher.
I could feel him watching me. I ate another tot to give myself a few more seconds. Then I sighed.
“Do you remember when you were little and dad explained to you what it means to be adopted?”
JT rolled his eyes. “You mean the whole forever family thing?”
I tilted my head just slightly. “I mean the whole ‘your biological parents gave you up for reasons we don’t know, but it was a loving act that meant they wanted what was best for you’ thing.”
He nodded. “Dad said my biological mother was very young and she probably gave me up because she couldn’t take care of me alone. But they didn’t know anything about my bio-dad.”
“Yeah. Well, it turns out that when the adoption lawyer went to get a signature from the biological father—the signature that said he agreed to give up all parental rights to you—she didn’t actually get his signature. Someone else forged it.”
JT set his burger down and began picking at his tots. “What does that mean?”
“It means that while your biological mother gave you up, your biological father didn’t.”
“Really?”
“He claims he didn’t even know about you until a few months ago.”
“How could he not know about me?”
I shrugged, picking the cheese off of my tots. “I don’t know.”
“So what does that mean now?”
“He wants you, JT. He wants to take you away from here and back to where he lives.”
JT was quiet for a long couple of minutes. I didn’t look at him at first, afraid that I would cry if I saw what I expected would be fear and confusion on his face. Instead, when I finally looked at him, I saw excitement and wonder.
“My father wants me?”
“We went to court today. The judge ruled that you would stay with me for right now, but that he can spend time with you and that we have to go back to court next week.”
“I get see him?”
“Yes. But next week, when we go to court, the judge wants to talk to you.”
“Who is he?”
JT was completely missing everything I was trying to tell him. All he wanted to know was about Harrison. I didn’t understand. I mean, I suppose I did, to a certain extent. He’d lived all his life wondering who his biological parents were and why they gave him up. But didn’t he care that he might have to leave me, leave his friends? What about football and school and everything else?
What about me?
“When do I get to see him? Can I see him now?”
I studied the eagerness in his eyes and sighed. “It’s Mr. James, JT. But he lied to us. His name is really Harrison Philips. He’s some sort of—“
“Mr. James?”
“Yes. He came here and got a job at the school so he could get to know you.”
JT sat back in his seat, dragging his greasy fingers through his hair.
“Mr. James is my father.”
“He is.”
“Can I see him now?”
“JT—“
I wanted to argue with him. But I could see by the expression on his face that anything I said now he wouldn’t hear. He didn’t want to hear anything other than what he’d asked. His head was spinning with thoughts that I could only imagine.
I sighed, put the car into gear and tossed my practically untouched meal into the trash on the way out of the parking lot. Harrison’s car was in the driveway outside of his rented house and the man himself appeared at the door seconds after I pulled my car to a stop at the curb.
JT didn’t even say goodbye as he jumped out of the car. But Harrison—he lifted his hand in a grateful wave.
Or maybe it was triumphant. Either way, I felt as though I’d just lost everything that ever mattered.
Chapter 12
Harrison
“It’s so weird, being inside a teacher’s house.”
“I’m not really your teacher anymore.”
JT looked up from the magazine he’d picked up from the coffee table. “Yeah, I keep forgetting,” he said, his eyes refusing to rest on my face.
“I know this must be pretty confusing for you.”
“Not really,” he said, dropping the magazine back onto the table and moving over to the bookshelves that held a collection of bells left by the last occupant of this house. He touched one or two before moving to the small collection of DVDs I had sitting on the television stand. “You like these?”
“Yeah. You?”
He shrugged, once again moving on. He was so restless, it was like watching a puppy checking out new surroundings. I leaned against the archway between the kitchen and living room to watch, not sure there was anything else I could do.
I hadn’t expected her to bring him by tonight. When I heard the car pull up outside through the exceedingly thin walls of this house, I wasn’t sure what to expect when he jumped out of the car. When she didn’t get out…I hated that this was so hard for her. I wished again and again that there was another way.
“I guess you have a lot of questions for me.”
JT hesitated, once again picking up the magazine from the coffee table.
“I used to wonder about my birth mother a lot. What she looked liked. What she did for a living. That kind of thing.”
“She’s kind of tall,” I said, holding a hand out just above my shoulder to show him how tall. “Blond. Blue eyes.”
“Yeah?”
“She was about to start college when I knew her. Now she’s married to a Wall Street guy and they have two kids. Daughters, I think.”
“I have sisters?”
“Yes.”
“Do you?” JT kind of waved his hand like he didn’t want to say the words.
I shook my head. “I don’t have any kids yet. Never been married, either.”
JT crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me, finally meeting my gaze.
“Penelope said you got the job at the school just so you could get to know me.”
I nodded. “I didn’t want to disrupt your life until I had a chance to get to know you. Until you had a chance to know me.”
“You lied.”
There was that word again. Penelope kept throwing it in my face like that glass of whiskey that got thrown around so much in chick flicks. I buried my hands in the pockets of my jeans as I tried t
o find a defense that wouldn’t sound defensive.
“I never knew about you, JT. I met Julia in New York during summer break while I was attending Stanford. When summer was over, I went back to California and waited for her to call. When she never did, I just assumed she’d moved on to some other guy. I knew it was a possibility. Julia and I never made promises to each other because we knew we couldn’t keep them.”
“Her name’s Julia?”
I looked up. “Yes.”
JT looked away for a second, as though he needed a moment to work through that information. When his eyes came back up to mine, I continued.
“I went to New York on business several months ago. While I was at this restaurant I go to all the time, she happened to walk in and spot me. We talked. And that’s when she told me about you. She’d assumed all these years that I knew, that when she gave the adoption lawyer my parents’ address that she’d actually spoken to me. The problem is, I was at Stanford at the time. I never saw the lawyer, never saw any paperwork. I never knew about you.”
JT’s expression was unreadable. But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t move. He didn’t seem to know what to do at all.
I straightened up, but I kept my distance.
“I immediately called an investigator who used what little information Julia could give me on the adoption to track down the lawyer. Through her, we tracked you. I found out that you were born in Manhattan, that your adoptive parents took you to Albany when you were a day old. I learned that three years later they moved here and started the bakery. I learned that you were a good student, though you struggle a little in math. That you were on the football team. That you—“
“Did they tell you that my parents were dead?”
There was pain in his voice that I had expected. I studied his face for a long minute, my tone softer when I responded.
“They did. And I was very sorry to hear it.”
JT turned away. He walked back to the shelf, his fingertip tracing the painting on the side of one bell.
“I wanted to come rushing in and take you home with me immediately,” I admitted. “I even had my lawyer write up the paperwork that would make it happen. But my sister convinced me that would be a mistake.”
“You have a sister?”
“Yes. Libby.” I tugged my cellphone out of my back pocket and pulled up a picture of Libby and her kids. “That’s her,” I said, holding it out to him. “Her and her daughter, Molly, and son, Robbie.”
JT didn’t take the phone. He didn’t even reach for it. But he looked at the picture for a second before he turned away again.
“You’d like Libby. She’s a lot of fun.”
JT didn’t acknowledge me.
I slid the phone back into my pocket and leaned back against the wall again. Then I waited.
JT stood at those shelves for a long time. He could have memorized the patterns on all fifty if the bells in that time. And I just stood against the wall, watching and waiting.
I wondered what Penelope would do if she were here. Would she make him talk? Would she let him be? Would she keep talking even though JT was clearly struggling to process? I didn’t know what to do. Maybe I was in deeper than I ever imagined.
I finally went into the kitchen and snuck a swig of bourbon before pouring two glasses of soda. I carried them both into the living room and set them on the coffee table as I took a seat on the couch.
“I know this is a lot.”
“Are you going to take me away from Penny?”
And there it was. That was the question I had been dreading. I didn’t know how to answer. I could tell him the truth, tell him that I wanted to work with Penelope, that I wanted to work out some way in which everyone got what they wanted. But that would require telling him that Penelope was so angry at me for reasons he didn’t need to know about – so angry that she wouldn’t even listen to me. I could tell him that it was up to the judge, but that would sound like I really didn’t care which way his decision went when I really did. If you boiled it all down, the basic truth was that I did want him. I wanted to take JT back to Oregon and return to my normal, ordered life. But I wasn’t sure how that would work, either.
And then there was Penelope.
“I want you to be a part of my life.”
That was as honest as I could be.
*****
JT stood there at the bells for a bit longer, then asked if I could drive him home. He didn’t speak to me in the car and when I pulled to a stop outside the house he shared with Penelope, he got out without a word. Penelope came to the door and watched as he came up the walk. She said something to him, but I don’t think he answered. I got the impression that JT was the kind of guy who had to work things out in his head before he could talk to anyone about it. He was like me that way.
I lifted a hand to Penelope, but she didn’t respond. She just turned and went back inside.
Back at my house, I paced the living room for a while, feeling like a caged lion. I hated this. I hated the feeling that I’d screwed this whole thing up. I would do anything to take all this back. But, then, I was glad that JT finally knew the truth. I was glad I was finally able to be honest with him.
My cellphone rang and I snatched it out of my pocket, irrationally thinking it might be Penelope. But it was Libby’s voice that filled my ear.
“You never called back and told me what was going on.”
I grunted, the whole day unfolding in my head again. Somehow I just couldn’t get past the mark of tears on Penelope’s face.
“Why did I think I could just charge in here and take my son back?”
“The judge granted the injunction?”
“Yeah. But he’s called another hearing next week. It’s pretty clear that he’s going to set the adoption aside and allow me custody.”
“Then it’s a victory.”
“Yeah, well, JT doesn’t know how to respond to all of this. And his sister—“
“You can’t worry about what you can’t control.”
“But I can control this. Or else, I could have before I stupidly started the ball rolling.”
Libby sighed loud enough that I could clearly hear it over the phone. “Don’t confuse the situation, Harry,” she said. “This is about your son. That’s it.”
I sat heavily on the edge of the couch. “You’re right.”
“I’m always right.”
I laughed. “Not always. Just occasionally.”
She was right. I came here to claim my son. I came here to fix what my parents screwed up so many years ago. JT should never have been given up for adoption. He never should have been raised by these people. I understood they did the best they could, but look at the mess they left behind when they died – the mess their daughter was left to clean up. It wasn’t right.
I was going to fix this even if it meant taking JT away from Penelope. He deserved what his birthright offered him. And I was going to make sure he had everything I lost out on.
Chapter 13
Penelope
JT wouldn’t talk to me. But he also wasn’t sassing me or resisting me when I woke him in the mornings as he had done every morning for the past year. And he showed up at the bakery right after school as he was supposed to. But then he would go to Harrison’s.
I wanted to ask what they talked about. I wanted to know what Harrison told him about our parents, about me. If they were making plans to move to Oregon, I thought I had the right to know.
I lay awake in bed at night, torn between my fear of losing JT and my need to relive the night I shared with Harrison. I hated him. I did. He was the one who was going to take my whole world away from me. But, at the same time, I so desperately ached for his touch.
It was insane. How could I want the man who had hurt me so deeply? How could I remember the way his kiss had tasted when I knew that in just a few days he was going to take my brother and disappear? How could I want him when it was pretty clear he couldn’t care less about me? I was prob
ably just another notch on his bedpost, another one night stand that he enjoyed, but never thought about again.
Three days. That’s how long we had until the next hearing.
I climbed out of bed and went down the hall to JT’s room. He was asleep under a pile of blankets and dirty clothes. His room was always such a disaster. I could never get him to clean it. I don’t how my mother ever did. But I remember it was always pristine when I came home from college for the holidays or the few trips home I made when I moved to New York.
I picked up a few things, wrinkling my nose at the pungent smell of a pair of socks that were stuck under his desk chair. There were more clothes on the floor than he had in the closet. I wonder: did Harrison have a maid who would take care of these issues once they were back in Oregon
I suddenly felt like I couldn’t breathe. I dropped the clothes where I stood and walked, rushing to the front door. It was unlocked—even in this day and time, hardly anyone locked their doors in this town—and I burst through and just wandered toward the street. I still couldn’t breathe despite the cool fall air that immediately penetrated the thin sweats and t-shirt I was wearing. I just walked, my mind such a whirlwind of thoughts that I couldn’t really concentrate on one thing. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t know what I wanted. I just…I just needed to go.
I ended up at the bakery. Maybe I was hoping to find Nick there, but it was still a couple of hours until he would arrive to begin making the donuts that would go flying out the door the moment the storefront opened. The place was dark, the sweet smells of cake and frosting and donuts permeating the air. I was convinced that even a hundred years from now when this building was nothing more than rubble, it would still smell of cakes and butter cream frosting and donuts.
I had a huge pile of paperwork I needed to do. And since I was here…I let myself into the office and stared at the bills from suppliers that were waiting to be paid, the bills to our customers that still needed to go out, the orders that had come in over the last few days and were waiting to be put on the schedule. I really didn’t want to touch any of it, but I was the only one who could.