A Mother for His Adopted Son

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A Mother for His Adopted Son Page 15

by Lynne Marshall


  He had proof that she’d wanted him once upon a time, too, since he still carried around the note she’d written him the first night she’d invited him to her bed, sketched winking eye and all. Yeah, he’d folded up that letter the next morning after they’d first made love and tucked it away in his sock drawer for times like these. When he got ready for bed later, he’d pull it out and take a well-needed look.

  Seemed as if there was only one way to settle the issue.

  Maybe it was time to make their relationship full-time?

  The last bite nearly stuck in his throat. Was he ready to risk asking the big question of another woman finding her way back to her artistic passion? Proposing had totally backfired with Katie. But looking back, he realized all the obvious signs with her. Things were completely different with Andrea. He loved her. Trusted her. Wanted to make a life with her. He was pretty sure she’d want the same with him. But, still, maybe they should take things one step at a time.

  * * *

  Wednesday morning, Sam barreled into the ocularistry and anaplastology department to talk to Andrea about moving in together, not out of convenience but as a definite step forward in their relationship, with the intention of making it permanent not far down the line.

  He found Judith, wearing her usual eye magnifier headgear, talking to a young man with scraggly blond hair. The guy moved confidently around the room, making clicking noises.

  “I’m pretending to shop,” he said, with a wry smile, immediately aware of Sam’s entrance.

  Pretending? Sam stopped and had to think for a second to realize that the twentysomething man must be blind. If so, his prosthetics were phenomenal. “Don’t let me interfere.”

  “This is Ned,” Judith said, smiling. “He’s a longtime customer.” She stood off to the side, like a proud parent.

  Ned clicked more, then turned and nodded to Sam, uncannily nailing where he stood in the room.

  “Ned rode his bike over to tell me he wants to change the color of his eyes,” Judith said, pride brightening her face.

  He rode a bicycle?

  “I want to go blue. Tired of brown. Oh, hey, what if I get one blue and one green?” His wide, youthful smile was contagious, if not confusing.

  Sam needed to clarify something. “You rode a bike over?”

  “Yeah, been riding bikes my whole life.”

  “He’s taught himself something called echolocation,” Judith said. “Kind of like a sixth sense for the blind. Too bad not many use it or even know about it.”

  So the clicking sounds helped him find his way around? Kind of like bats using sonar navigation, bouncing sound waves off objects and pinpointing the location? His interest was definitely piqued. “If your technique works, why don’t more use it?”

  “Socially annoying,” Ned spoke up. “Some folks don’t want to hang out with a guy who’s always making clicking noises. I call it BurstSonor, by the way. Sometimes it even drives my sighted girlfriend crazy.” He laughed. “But she loves me anyway.”

  Sam couldn’t get past the original statement. “You seriously rode your bike to the hospital?”

  “Woodman Avenue is mostly a straight shot. I only live a mile away but, yeah, I even do off-road bicycling. Why hold myself back?”

  “Ned is a great example of a totally independent sightless person. Lives by himself and does everything the rest of us do,” Judith said.

  “That’s commendable,” Sam said, stepping forward to shake his hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”

  He took his hand as if he’d seen it. “I’m a pretty damn good cook, too, if I do say so myself. Nice to meet you, too.”

  Amazed at what this guy had accomplished without sight, Sam shook his head.

  “Ned is an outspoken advocate for independence of the blind, much to the chagrin of many who think of echolocation as annoying or disgraceful, even. Many of them are other blind people, too.”

  “Seriously?” Sam thought about Dani, and the horrible potential for him to lose his other eye. Wouldn’t he want his son to know freedom and independence like this guy if he became blind?

  “Yeah, some of my staunchest adversaries are blind people who think echolocation is offputting.” Ned laughed, having said the last phrase as though it had tasted bad. “Like the whole point of life is not to bother other people. Unfortunately, that’s what most blind people learn. That they’re an inconvenience. That they are destined to spend their lives dependent on the kindness of strangers, the government and blind organizations looking out for them.”

  “It’s a radical concept,” Judith chimed in. “Ned has even started his own coalition to raise money and teach independence to the blind through his technique.”

  “This is fascinating, and, for the record, I think you should go with one green and one blue. Or get a pair of each and change eye color anytime you feel like it.”

  “That’s a great idea.” Ned smiled, as if really considering the suggestion. “Maybe I’ll go violet.”

  They all laughed, but Sam suspected Ned might become Judith’s first violet prosthetic-eyed customer.

  “Well, it’s been great talking to you,” Sam said, suddenly eager to get back on track to why he’d come down here. “Judith, is Andrea around?”

  “She took the rest of the day off after her appointment with Admin this morning,” Judith said, unfazed, gazing happily at Ned. “She’s painting. The hospital lobby needs new paintings, fast.”

  “I see.” Sam winced over that expression with Ned in the room.

  “And I don’t,” Ned said, not missing a beat. “But, you know, I’ve always wanted to try my hand at painting.”

  The quick levity may have gotten a chuckle out of Sam, but it didn’t help the uneasy feeling crawling over his skin. Andrea had made connections and had found a way for her talent to be showcased. He certainly didn’t begrudge her success, was happy about the hospital lobby deal, but she’d skipped work today because of it. Maybe it was her way of pushing back at her father?

  She had paintings to paint, and a part-time job to hold down. Hell, he’d opened the door for her to showcase her work in the St. Francis Hospital lobby after the remodel. He should consider himself responsible for her taking the day off. If her art took off, lack of time might force her to make a decision about working at the hospital and helping guys like Ned look sighted, or going full speed ahead with her painting...and kissing this place, and him, goodbye?

  His history with the women walking away who meant most to him still managed to step in and keep him insecure and off balance. He needed to get hold of himself. Stop the negative, insecure thoughts. But it was the first thing to pop into his head.

  Of course he wanted the best for Andrea, wanted to support her every step of the way, whatever made her happiest.

  Sam had big plans he wanted, no, needed to bring up with her today. But she wasn’t here. She was home, painting. Having to postpone what he wanted to ask her made his stomach knot and kept the knot tight. Women didn’t stick around for him. But what if he showed up at her house with the perfect secret weapon?

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT HAD BEEN an amazingly productive day. Andrea’s arms ached from the nearly nonstop painting. The bright sun had helped make her small workroom ideal during the morning, but by afternoon she had to move outside to her postage-stamp-sized patio for the best light. That had never been a problem before because her painting schedule had been so irregular. Now, however, with a couple of commissioned paintings and, in one case, a cash advance, she needed to paint more and consistently.

  Maybe it was time to consider renting space in a real studio. She knew artists who did that, shared studio space to make the rent more reasonable, and once she’d cleaned up she planned to make a call or two.

  Someone knocked at her door. She glanced at the cloc
k on the wall—it was six-thirty. Wow, she’d really lost track of time this afternoon. She looked a mess wearing a baggy T-shirt and the oldest, holiest jeans in her wardrobe, probably had as much paint on her face, arms, hands and her clothes as on the canvas, but there wasn’t time to clean up before answering the door.

  Not bothering to check the peephole on the old thick wooden door, she pulled it open a few inches and peeked around the corner.

  “Surprise!” Dani blurted, tickled with himself and clapping.

  “Hi!” She dropped to her knees, genuinely happy to see him, put her hands on his shoulders and kissed his chubby cheek.

  “You look silly,” he said.

  “I know, I’ve been painting.” Slowly she shifted her vision from the toddler to the long jeans-clad legs behind him, lifting her gaze until she saw Sam’s handsome face looking a little more worn than usual. He’d combed his brown hair neatly, and his piercing blue eyes promised this was a no-nonsense visit. Her pulse fluttered at the sight of him, as it always did. “Hi.”

  “Hi. You get a lot of work done today?”

  “Yes. Come in!”

  “Don’t know if you’ve eaten, but I brought you some of that take-out chicken you like with black beans and a side salad.”

  “How thoughtful of you. Thanks. I’d totally lost track of the time.” She stood and hugged him hello.

  They all went into the kitchen. “Share?” she said.

  “We’ve already eaten. Thanks.”

  It felt so formal, and not at all the usual casual, comfortable routine between them. Something was up. She opened the bag and took out a chicken leg seasoned with the usual lime and pineapple juice, oregano, garlic and chili pepper—it smelled so good—and took a big bite. Loving the taste, the tenderness, she lifted her eyes to the ceiling, then, also loving the thoughtfulness from the man she loved, she smiled at him and took another bite.

  But he wasn’t smiling.

  “I was surprised to find out you weren’t at work today,” he said.

  Why did she feel the sudden need to explain, to account for her actions, as if he were her father? She shuddered inwardly at the reference, feeling uncomfortably like her own mother. “I’ve been keeping up on everything, all the orders at work. I sent off the prosthetics I promised to the people in Cuernavaca last week. Even supplied a year’s worth of special adhesive for the ears. I needed to get the cat in the bag, no pun intended, so I could get started on my next project. Hey, guess what, I’ve been commissioned for some paintings for the new hospital lobby.”

  “I heard that from your grandmother. Fantastic. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thanks. I’m a little nervous.”

  “It’ll be a big break for you, that’s for sure.”

  “So you saw Grandma today?”

  “Yeah, I stopped by the department, looking for you.”

  “Did I miss something?”

  “A guy who clicks his way around the world.”

  “Ned! Isn’t he an inspiration?”

  “Sure is.”

  She could instantly tell Sam was done with small talk. He’d come here on a mission, and it was obvious he had something he wanted to get off his chest.

  She wanted to love Sam and felt he wanted to love her, too, but regardless of their best intentions their pasts seemed to keep tripping them up, him always keeping a safe buffer zone, and her waiting for him to magically turn into her father. Would they ever get past that?

  But the truth was she’d also missed him in twenty-four short hours, and that was a fact. Having finished the small chicken leg, she couldn’t bring herself to eat another bite, as something besides hunger crowded out her stomach. Anxiety?

  “Dani,” she said, “would you like to play with the building blocks?” She’d gotten involved enough with Sam that she’d actually picked up a toy here and there for Dani to keep at her house. Remembering how much he liked his building blocks at his house, she’d bought a set for him to play with here.

  He rushed at the chance, and soon sat contentedly in the corner of her living room, building a tower, knocking it down, then building another.

  Andrea wiped her hands on a napkin, then glanced at Sam, who was still tense. “What’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking,” he said, stepping closer, running his index finger along the curve of her jaw. “Anyone ever tell you that you look sexy with paint on your face?”

  She gave a breathy short laugh, but tension took hold in her stomach as she waited for what he’d say next. Though the mere touch of his finger nearly made her lose track of her thoughts. How did he do that?

  “I think we both know we love each other.” He cupped her entire jaw, leaned in and delivered a delicate kiss to prove his point. Kissing always felt so right with him. “If your feelings haven’t changed about me, I’m thinking we should join forces, you know, move in together.”

  Just move in. Like that.

  Disappointed, she stared at him, eyes wide, not knowing how to respond. It certainly wasn’t the most romantic proposal—in fact, the more she considered it the more she thought it was far too practical. But the man was a problem-solver after all. She had to be honest about what it made her think. “Shacking up out of convenience?” How unromantic.

  He pulled in his chin, his eyebrows knitted. “No. Not at all.”

  If this was his idea of solving their problems, it made her angry. “Are you sure you’re not just looking for a child-care provider with privileges?” she whispered, so Dani couldn’t hear.

  He grimaced, reacting to her low blow. “I thought you’d be in a good mood after painting all day.”

  Was he really that clueless? “I am in a good mood, but you seem to think about love as a business deal. You want what you want and I, well, the same. I love you, but a girl likes a little romance along the way.”

  He held her upper arms, looked deeply into her eyes. “Are you saying you’re not interested in moving in?”

  “Look, I do love you, and I love Dani so much I can hardly believe it. But I need to know you want me for me, not just to make your plans work out, but because you need me. Sort of like breathing.”

  “That’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” His comment fell flat, he knew it from the expression she tossed at him. So he tried again. “My plans involve making a life with you.”

  “Are you sure this isn’t about putting all your ducks in a row for adopting more kids?” She narrowed her eyes for emphasis.

  “Now who’s being unromantic? I came here to ask you to move in, a huge step for us. You may not know it yet but we belong together.”

  Did they belong together? Him holding on to his secrets, giving the impression he was totally into the relationship but somehow always holding back some deep part of himself. She got it that his behavior was in no small part thanks to his childhood and feeling rejected by his mother, but nevertheless. Her with fears of becoming like her mother, giving up, giving in, lost and lonely on child duty while her husband pursued his profession and ignored the relationship.

  Dani had stopped playing with the blocks, Andrea couldn’t help but notice. “Dani, would you like a graham cracker and some milk?” Besides, she needed something to change the heavy atmosphere.

  “Okay.”

  She led him into the kitchen and set him at the table with his snack. Then she went back to Sam, who was standing exactly where she’d left him, appearing dumbfounded, as if he already knew how things might work out. She pressed her hands together and placed them by her mouth, as if praying, as she approached.

  “I do love you, Sam. I’m flattered beyond belief that you want us to live together, but maybe we’re rushing things. The thing is, I need to know that it’s me you want, and need, that I’m not merely a missing piece to fill that big puzzle you’ve
created in your mind about the kind of life you want.” She pleaded with her eyes for him to understand, to not be hurt by her honesty. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great idea. I’m just not sure about right now.” Realizing she might have just hurt him deeply, she begged with a stare for his understanding. “We’ve got to be completely honest and open with each other, right?”

  “I’ve been more honest with you than anyone else in my life.”

  “And I’m so grateful for that.” Was she so messed up that that wasn’t enough? “But you and your big compassionate heart scare me. I’m worried I’ll never measure up to your standards. I don’t know if I have the same capacity you seem to for reaching out to all those kids in need.” Ironically, she worried he didn’t need her anywhere near as much as he needed those kids.

  Bewilderment filled Sam’s eyes. “But you just said you love Dani.”

  “Yes, I do, and you, too. But I’m afraid I’ll lose myself in your busy life, and I’ve only just started to find me.” She pleaded for understanding with her gaze, her body tense and her feet bolted to the floor.

  “How can you worry about losing yourself with me when I want success for you, too? I know how talented you are, hell, who do you think suggested you for the hospital remodel project?”

  What? He’d set that up? It hadn’t been her dazzling talent that’d gotten their attention? Roiling emotions made her face grow hot. Stupid her for thinking Sam was nothing like her father. He’d gone and done something behind her back, manipulating her life without her approval. Jerome Rimmer strikes again.

  She nearly stomped her foot. Angry darts shot from her gaze, aiming to hurt. Because it ached to realize he’d misused her trust. “You just said how honest you’ve been with me, yet you listened on the phone when I crowed about how excited I was about the appointment. You never said a word that you’d set it up.” He must have felt so proud of himself, not having a clue how much she’d needed to win that one for herself.

 

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