Father to Be

by Marilyn Pappano

  “Honey, I’d wager there’s not a woman in this county who hasn’t fancied herself half in love with the man. Heavens, look at him. He’s handsome, funny, smart, a doctor, and he’s got a body to die for, and money to boot.”

  Kelsey cleared her throat, forced her fingers to relax, forced her gaze to remain steady on her boss. “Well, I’d wager there’s not another woman in this county whom he’s fancied himself half in love with.” Unless he’d lied.

  Mary Therese’s expression turned serious as death. She got up, closed the outer door, then Kelsey’s door, then returned to rest her palms on the desk. “He’s told you that?”

  Kelsey nodded miserably.

  “A man doesn’t generally say things like that without having a reasonable expectation that his feelings are returned. Are they?”

  Her nod this time was slighter, less noticeable.

  Mary Therese paced to the opposite end of the office. For a moment she stood in front of the file cabinets, her head bent. When she turned again, she looked angry, but the anger was under tight control. “How far has this gone?”

  “We … um …” Kelsey wet her lips. This wasn’t right. The private details of her life were supposed to remain private. They weren’t meant to be laid open for examination by others, to be judged and condemned by others.

  But when she’d chosen to have an affair with one of her clients, she’d given up the right to privacy. She’d opened herself up to examination, judgment, and condemnation.

  “You slept with him, didn’t you?” Mary Therese was tight-lipped. Disappointed.

  Kelsey nodded once. “I never meant for it to happen. I’ve been doing this job for twelve years, and I’ve never been the least bit interested in any client, but with J.D., it was just … so right, and—”

  “It was just so wrong. You can’t do that, Kelsey! You just can’t—” Mary Therese came back and sat down. “Well, hell. Are you going to marry him?”

  “I—” Alone in her bed Wednesday night, Kelsey had dared such dreams of the future. After the scene in the hospital corridor the night before, she couldn’t even convince herself that they shared a future. “I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

  “I hope something comes of it. I hope you didn’t risk your career for a short-term fling.”

  Oh, God, she hoped so too.

  Her boss sat silent for a time, then reached a decision. “I’ll tell you what, Kelsey, because I am so shorthanded, I’m going to keep you on this. We’ll handle it together, because everyone deserves someone who believes them on their side. When it’s over and all this is settled, then we’ll look at the matter of your … relationship. Of course, until this is settled, I expect you to keep your distance from J.D. Fair enough?”

  More than fair. Kelsey was relieved to accept the offer.

  “Now, get me those files—oh, here they are.” Mary Therese picked up the records Kelsey had taken home with her last night and brought back again that morning. “J. D. Grayson. Did you find out what the J.D. stands for?”

  The innocent question freshened the pain Kelsey thought might never go away. “No, I didn’t.”

  “Probably something simple like John David or Jimmy Dean. Or maybe”—looking up, Mary Therese grinned—“his father was named Jay and his mother was named Dee.”

  “His father’s name is Bud,” Kelsey said. “At least, his nickname is.” She didn’t add that he was a very nice man who’d made her feel welcome—at least until last night, when he’d looked at her with such disappointment as he’d carried Noah to her car. He hadn’t spoken to her, hadn’t asked how she could do this to his son, but she’d read the accusation in his eyes. She’d felt the disapproval in his silence.

  It seemed she was disappointing everyone lately.

  Including herself.

  “What time is Caleb’s appointment with the detective?” Mary Therese asked without glancing up from the folder she was reading.

  “Ten. We should leave in a few minutes.”

  “The background material here on J.D. is a little sketchy. It covers only the time he’s been in Bethlehem, which means none of it’s more than eighteen months old. There’s nothing about his life before he came here.”

  “He came from Chicago,” Kelsey said quietly. She wasn’t betraying a confidence. Everyone in town knew where he’d lived. Still, she felt … underhanded. As if she were telling secrets.

  “Slide that phone over here, would you?” As soon as she did, Mary Therese began punching in a number. “A girl I worked with just out of college was from Chicago. She went back there when she got married. I’ll see if she can help us out.”

  Five minutes later she hung up, smiling. “She’ll get what she can and fax it to us. Now, I believe you and I have an interview to attend to.”

  Caleb was scared—more scared than he’d ever been in his life. His dad had always told him it was wrong to lie, and now he knew why. That one little lie he’d told the welfare lady had gotten bigger and bigger, and now it was causing trouble for everyone, especially Grayson, but he didn’t know how to stop it. He couldn’t tell the truth, not with the police a part of it now, and the welfare lady’s boss and the doctor at the hospital. If he tried to tell the truth, they’d arrest him and send him away and he’d never see the kids again.

  If he didn’t tell the truth, they might arrest Grayson and send him away.

  He sat at the dining table in the house where they’d spent last night. It was bigger than Grayson’s house and the lady—Mrs. Thomas—was real sweet and pretty, but she fussed over them. He liked not being fussed over, like the doc did.

  Kelsey said last night that the woman’s husband, Mr. Thomas, was their lawyer, and that had scared Caleb. He didn’t need a lawyer, he’d insisted. He hadn’t done anythin’ wrong—another lie. She’d said they had a lawyer to look after their rights ’cause they were kids and wards of the state. She hadn’t said anythin’ about him doing anything wrong, because she knew he had. She knew he’d lied, and she hated him for it. Grayson hated him for it. Even the kids hated him for it.

  There were other people sitting at the table. Kelsey and her boss, and Mr. Thomas, and a policeman. He was a detective, so he didn’t wear a uniform, but he had a badge and a gun. Caleb had seen them when he came in. He could arrest Caleb and take him away if he said one thing that was different from what he said before.

  It would break his dad’s heart if he came back and found out Caleb had told lies to the police.

  But it would break even more if he came back and Caleb was gone and no one was there to take care of the kids.

  Mary Therese Carpenter laid her hand over his. Hers was warm. His was sweaty and cold. “Caleb, we’re going to ask you some questions, all right? There’s nothing to be afraid of. All you have to do is answer them. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, then tugged at the neck of his shirt. That made his bruises hurt and made him wiggle in his chair. He wanted more than anything in the world to jump up and run out of the house and just run and run until he couldn’t go no farther. But they’d come after him. The policeman would catch him and know he’d lied and take him away.

  The policeman introduced himself, but his name went in and out of Caleb’s head. He’d never met a policeman that didn’t scare him, except maybe Alanna’s uncle. But even her uncle would be mad at him now, and Alanna would hate him because she loved the doc and she would never forgive Caleb for lying about him. She would never be his friend again.

  “Where did you get the bruises, Caleb?”

  He swallowed hard. Truth or lie? One would get Grayson in trouble. The other would get him in trouble. One would keep Grayson away from the kids. The other would keep him away. He’d promised his dad he would look out for the kids, would protect them and keep them safe. They weren’t safe with Grayson, ’cause they were starting to love him. They were starting to think of him like he was their dad, and he wasn’t, and that would break their real dad’s heart.

  He couldn’
t let anyone break his dad’s heart.

  He stopped squirming in his chair and looked right at the policeman. “He did it. Dr. Grayson.”

  He lied.

  Again.

  And nobody was ever gonna forgive him.

  When he left his house Saturday morning, J.D. pretended that he was going for a run, just as he did every morning. He went early, long before the sun was up, because he wasn’t sleeping well and might as well be up and accomplishing something, not because he wanted to avoid all the offers of sympathy and support. He headed for the south side of town because he’d run everywhere but there in the last few days, not because Kelsey’s apartment was over there.

  But he gave up his pretenses as he approached the apartment complex. He turned into the dimly lit lot, slowed to a walk at the sidewalk that led to number three. He didn’t ring the doorbell though. He simply sat down on the top step and waited. He figured she usually headed out around six. That gave him an hour to figure out what the hell he was going to say. He didn’t have a clue as he leaned against the wall.

  How had the ugliness that had dogged him in Chicago found him in Bethlehem? He’d thought he was safe here. He’d thought he could live the rest of his life here, as happy and contented as a man with his past was ever going to be. He had friends—a lot, he’d discovered in the last thirty-six hours—and a job he liked and a woman to ease his occasional loneliness. He could have lived the next fifty years like that and been satisfied.

  But, no, he’d gotten cocky. He’d had to take in those kids and try to be a parent to them even though he’d known the risks. He’d had to get involved with Kelsey even though he’d known the dangers. And what had he gotten in return? A little pleasure, a whole lot of pain, and a life that was never going to be the same.

  If he could go back to that Sunday after church … He would tell Noelle no, would run the other way, not only from the kids but from Kelsey too. He would quit being a sucker for others and would put himself first … even though putting his own needs first back in Chicago had started this whole mess.

  He would have peace.

  There was a sound behind him, then the door opened and Kelsey stepped out. She stopped immediately, as if she wanted to go back inside, then locked the door and faced him.

  She was wearing old, faded running clothes and still looked damn beautiful. The tank top revealed more of her multicolored bra than it concealed, and her shorts were so short that her legs seemed to go on forever. It had seemed that way three nights ago too, when they were wrapped around him, holding him inside her—not that he’d had any desire to be anywhere else.

  His first impulse was to smile, his second to reach for her, his third to pull her down to him, on top of him, underneath him. Instead, he swallowed hard and knotted his hands into fists and satisfied himself with simply looking at her.

  It was a sorry substitute.

  After a while she walked past him and down the steps.

  “Can’t you even speak to me, Kelsey?” His voice was hoarse, ragged.

  She stopped, then slowly pivoted to face him. There was no warmth in her eyes, no affection, certainly no love. Not even a hint of it. “Actually, no. I’m under orders not to.”

  For a moment her words confused him. Then understanding dawned. He got to his feet, feeling achy in every joint. “You told Mary Therese.”

  “I had no choice.”

  “You always have choices, Kelsey.”

  His response made her flinch, made anger flare in her eyes. “So do you. Forgetting about the mistake you made with me is one of them.”

  “What mistake? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His only mistake was in leaving her bed, in not staying there all night Wednesday, all day Thursday, and all that night too. Then Caleb could have made all the accusations in the world, and it wouldn’t matter, because she would have had irrefutable proof—the sweet aches in her own body—that he was innocent.

  So stiff with tension that she practically vibrated, she parroted back words he’d said to her in the emergency room. “ ‘You always have a choice, Kelsey. You’re just making the wrong one. Apparently so did I.’ ” The words were underlaid with sarcasm and anger and, hidden deep within, hurt.

  Bleakly he shook his head. “I wasn’t talking about you. Making love with you—falling in love with you—wasn’t a choice. It just happened, because it was right. It was meant to be. It was—you are—the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He reached out a trembling hand to her but drew back when she stiffened even more. “God, Kelsey, I never meant to hurt you.”

  For a long while she looked at him, her expression unreadable. He half expected her to walk away and leave him alone. Instead, she hesitantly, reluctantly, asked, “Then what was your wrong choice?”

  He curled his fingers at his sides. “The kids. I thought I could have them in my house, in my life, for a few weeks, maybe a month or so, and everything would be fine. They’d be better off for having known me, and I—I would remain untouched. But I was wrong.” His voice quavered. “I want them back. And I want you back. Kelsey, I lo—”

  She stumbled a few steps back. “I can’t talk to you,” she said frantically. “I can’t see you. I’m sorry.” Spinning on one heel, she started away, breaking into a run before she’d gone ten feet. Within moments she’d disappeared into the darkness.

  J.D. leaned against the wall for support. The night they’d made love, she’d stood here on this porch, touching him so gently as she gave her one argument against what they were about to do. I could lose my job, she’d whispered.

  Or your heart, he’d replied. He’d thought that her concerns for her job were an excuse—a valid one, but still an excuse. He’d thought her real reason for holding back was fear of commitment, of falling in love, of risking her heart.

  Apparently he was wrong again.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Alanna Dalton pushed her bike across the intersection, then hopped on to pedal the last half block. She’d told her aunt Emilie that she was going to Susan’s house, and just so she wouldn’t make a liar of herself, she intended to go there, but first she had to make one stop. She had to see Caleb.

  It was supposed to be some sort of secret where Caleb, his brothers, and Gracie were staying now that they’d left Dr. J.D.’s, but Bethlehem was a little place. Everyone talked about everyone else, and her friend Nelia, who lived across the street from the Thomases, said the Browns were there. She’d seen them from her bedroom window when Miss Kelsey and Chief Walker brought them over Thursday night and had seen Miss Kelsey and another lady and one of the detectives who worked with Uncle Nathan come back Friday, and she’d called Alanna and told her all about it.

  Alanna rode her bike into the Thomases’ yard, then let it fall as she climbed the steps to the porch. For just a second she hesitated, then pushed the doorbell and waited. It took only a minute for Miss Melissa to answer the door. She smiled widely, as she always did. “Hi, Alanna. What are you doing so far from home?”

  Alanna brushed back her hair. “It’s not so far,” she said nervously, because it was farther than Aunt Emilie let her go by herself. “And I rode my bike, so it seemed even shorter. Is Caleb here?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “Can I see him, please?”

  “Sure.” Miss Melissa stepped back and let her in, then pointed upstairs. “He’s in his room—turn right at the top, last door on the left. Would you like some lemonade and cookies? I just served the younger kids, but Caleb said he didn’t want any.”

  “No, thank you. I just want to see Caleb.” She climbed the stairs quickly, then went down the hall to the right. There were two rooms there, both with doors open. In the room on the right were two beds covered with Gracie’s and Noah’s stuffed animals, and there were toys and clothes scattered around. In the room on the left, there was just one bed and nothing scattered around. Caleb sat on the bed, his knees drawn up, his face hidden in his arms.

  “Hey, Caleb,”
she said uneasily as she walked in.

  “Go ’way.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything’s wrong.” He raised his head then, and she wished he hadn’t. He’d been crying, and he looked miserable, as if he just wanted to curl up and die. She knew other kids cried sometimes—so did she once in a while—but she’d never thought about Caleb crying. No matter how mean kids were to him at school, he never cried. He just got madder and quieter. He must be hurting really, really bad to cry now, and that made a lump form in her own throat.

  She sat down on the edge of the bed. “Why’re you in here by yourself? Why aren’t you downstairs having lemonade and cookies with the others?”

  At first she thought he was going to yell at her and maybe call her stupid. But he didn’t. He just looked like he might cry again.

  “They don’t want me down there, or sharing their room or nothin’. They don’t even want me bein’ their brother no more. They said I ruined everything.”

  Alanna felt her face turn red. She thought he’d ruined everything too. They’d had it good at Dr. J.D.’s. He would’ve been a good father if Caleb had just given him a chance and if he hadn’t lied about Dr. J.D. hurting him. “Who hit you?”

  The look he gave her was mean and scary and made her scoot back a bit. “Did he tell you to ask that? Did you come here ’cause of him?”

  “No. I came because … well, yes, because of him. Because you’re lying and hurting everybody. If you’d just tell the truth, Caleb, it’s not too late. Everything can be fixed, and you guys can go back to Dr. J.D.’s house, and we can all still play together, and—and everyone would be all right. But you have to tell the truth.”

  He rolled off the other side of the bed and went to the window. “If I told—if I changed my story, they wouldn’t let me go back. They’d arrest me and send me away. ’Sides, even if they did let me go back, he wouldn’t. He don’t want me. He never did.”

  “I don’t think they’d arrest you,” she said hesitantly. “You’re just a kid, and I don’t think they arrest kids, not just for telling lies, not even big lies like this. I can ask Uncle Nathan if you want.”