A Mother's Love

by Dawn Stewardson

  Especially not when she knew he was right. That she was at risk of becoming emotionally involved.

  No, it was worse than “at risk,” she silently admitted. She’d already become involved. Now she was merely letting herself get more so. Even though she realized she was only asking for heartache.

  Hank stood towering over them for a few more seconds, then said, “Well, I’m going to hit the hay. I’ll see you two later.”

  “And have fun,” Robbie said.

  “Pardon?”

  “That’s what you say. When Mrs. Chevy takes me to the mall. You say, have fun.”

  “Do I?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Then...have fun.”

  Natalie fiddled with the second shoe until Hank turned away. Once he had, she grabbed Robbie’s little jacket off its peg and helped him into it. Fifteen minutes later, she was taking his hand to walk across the mall’s parking lot.

  “Know what?” he said as they made their way between a couple of rows of cars.

  “What?”

  “When Mrs. Chevy brings me here, I have ice cream. If I’m good.”

  She smiled, recalling the first moment she’d seen him last week. He’d come flying into the house after a trip to the mall, a dried smudge of ice cream on his cheek—and her heart had suddenly been so full she’d thought it would burst.

  “Well, we wouldn’t want to break with tradition,” she said. “So we’ll buy the bear, then we’ll get some ice cream.”

  “If I’m good.”

  “Right. If you’re good.”

  Natalie spotted a chocolate shop as soon as they entered the mall. When she started toward it, Robbie excitedly said, “We’re goin’ there?”

  “Uh-huh. Just for a minute.”

  Inside the store, she selected three colorfully wrapped chocolate novelties for the other girls in Emma’s room and told Robbie he could choose one of the little foil-covered chocolate trucks.

  “It’s for later, though,” she warned. “If you ate it now, you might not have room for the ice cream.”

  Once she’d paid for the items, they made their way to the toy store and checked out the bears.

  “It has to be brown,” she explained. “And not really big, yet not really small, either.”

  There were almost too many to choose from, but she finally decided on a chubby one wearing a cheery red sweater. She had no idea whether “Teddy” had been the kind of bear that wore clothes. However, if Emma didn’t like the sweater she could simply take it off.

  Robbie carried the bear to the sales desk where Natalie asked to have it gift-wrapped.

  Rocking from one foot to the other, he watched the clerk tape up the paper and tie some ribbon around the box she’d found.

  “Was I good?” he asked as the woman finally put the box into a shopping bag.

  “You were perfect,” Natalie assured him.

  When he rewarded her words with a huge grin, the clerk said, “Your son is gorgeous. You should see about getting him into commercials. My daughter did that with my grandson and they’re building up quite a college fund.”

  “That’s something to think about,” Natalie said, taking the bag and reaching for Robbie’s hand once more.

  “She thought you were my mom!” he whispered loudly enough that everyone in the store probably heard him.

  Natalie’s throat suddenly felt tight. She wanted Robbie to know she was his mom. So badly it hurt. But she couldn’t tell him until Hank agreed the time was right.

  * * *

  HANK HAD SLEPT well past three, which made Natalie late getting to the hospital. And briefly popping in to see Betty again made her even later arriving on Pediatrics.

  There was no sign of Cynthia, so she simply stuck her purse into the office she was using and continued along to Emma’s room—armed with her shopping bag full of goodies.

  Once again, the other three girls had visitors, but Emma didn’t. When she saw Natalie in the doorway, her face lit up like sunshine.

  Telling herself she hadn’t really felt a tug on her heartstrings, she gave Emma a wave, then said to the room in general, “I was shopping this morning, and I started thinking about all of you, so...”

  She produced the three chocolate novelties and handed them out—to a chorus of oohs and aahs, followed by thank-yous after parental prompting. Then she stepped over to Emma’s bed and switched into Spanish, saying, “Your grandma’s still sick?”

  Emma nodded, but her gaze didn’t leave the shopping bag.

  “I got you something special. Something I’m hoping you’ll like even more than chocolate.”

  “More than chocolate?” she repeated.

  Her dubious tone started Natalie hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. But it was too late if she had, so she took the box from the shopping bag and handed it over.

  “Mine’s way bigger than theirs,” Emma said, eyeing it.

  “Uh-huh. Go ahead, open it.”

  Carefully she slid off the ribbon and undid the paper. When she lifted the lid off the box and saw the bear, her smile told Natalie she definitely hadn’t made a mistake.

  “Oh, he’s beautiful,” she said, taking him out and gazing at him. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know. I asked him, but he wouldn’t tell me.”

  Emma giggled.

  “Maybe he’ll tell you.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’m not sure. He seems pretty shy. But he might whisper it in your ear.”

  Emma solemnly put the bear’s mouth to her ear. A moment later, she smiled at Natalie. “He did tell me. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “His name’s Teddy.”

  “Really?”

  “Uh-huh. And you know what else he said?”

  “No. What?”

  “That he thinks he should sleep with me.”

  “Did he? And is that okay with you?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s fine.”

  “Then should we put him back in the playroom?” she said, pointing at the pink bear.

  “I think we better. ’Cuz I don’t think Teddy likes him.”

  “Okay, I’ll take him with me when I go.”

  “But you’re not going yet, are you?” Emma said quickly.

  “No, I’d rather stay and talk to you for a while.”

  “About what?”

  “Anything you’d like.”

  Emma hesitated, then said, “About my mom?”

  Natalie’s heart skipped an uneasy beat. “Sure,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as anxious as she felt. “What about her?”

  “Well, I know why she can’t come see me. But I was wondering, why can’t she phone me?”

  Oh, Lord. Before she could decide what to say, Emma added, “I asked my grandma why not.”

  “And what did she tell you?”

  “She said it was ’cuz there’s no phone in her room. But why can’t she use a cordless one?”

  Natalie could feel her heart hammering now. She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want to upset Emma, either.

  “Emma, I don’t know why,” she said at last. “Maybe they don’t have any cordless phones in her hospital.”

  “Could you find out?”

  “Yes, I probably could.”

  “And if they do? Then you could get her to phone me?”

  “Emma, let me check into it, okay?”

  “And by tomorrow you’ll know?”

  She nodded unhappily. “I’ll try to.”

  * * *

  THAT NIGHT, WHEN Natalie got back to Hank’s, he was engrossed in a baseball game on TV.

  She said hello, then wandered down the hall to Robbie’s room and just stood watching him sleep—thinking how ironic life could be. Ironic and unfair.

  He had two parents who wanted him. And regardless of how she and Hank worked things out, he’d always know they both loved him.

  Whereas Emma had a dying mother and a grandmother in no position to care for her. Accordin
g to Cynthia, Emma would become a ward of the state. Then what?

  Cynthia hadn’t gone into the specifics of that, but Natalie doubted it was easy to find adoptive parents for a seven-year-old. Which meant Emma could well end up living in a series of foster homes.

  Knowing she’d be wise not to dwell on that thought, she kissed Robbie and went to change from her dress into a pair of jeans. Then she headed for the kitchen.

  Her insides felt cold. Clammy, almost. But a cup of herbal tea should help.

  There was none in the cupboard. There was hot chocolate, though.

  Chocolate. Comfort food. All right, that might work.

  Once she’d taken the container of powder down from the shelf, she went to see if Hank was a hot-chocolate person.

  When she asked, he looked a little taken aback.

  “I haven’t had any for years,” he said. “But sure. Why not?”

  Instead of continuing to watch his game, as she’d expected, he followed her to the kitchen, leaned against a counter and watched her while she measured milk into the saucepan and added the powder.

  His presence made her anxious, although she wasn’t quite sure why.

  Maybe it was because she couldn’t stop noticing that his broad shoulders seemed even broader within the confines of the kitchen. And because no matter which way she moved he was always almost within touching distance.

  Not that she had any intention of touching him.

  The problem, she decided, was that the scene seemed very domestic. And the last thing she wanted to do was to start feeling as if she were playing house with Hank Ballantyne.

  After searching for something to say, she settled on “I stopped by to see Betty again today. She’s doing really well.”

  He nodded. “I phoned the hospital earlier. I’d promised Audrey I’d call her with an update.”

  “Ah.”

  As she stirred the hot chocolate, he said, “So how did the bear go over?”

  She looked at him again, surprised he’d thought to ask. “Emma really liked it.”

  He smiled. “Robbie told me it was a very nice bear.”

  “It is.”

  “But not as nice as a truck. Not to his way of thinking, at least.”

  That made her laugh—which, in turn, made her feel a little less anxious.

  “Well, I’m sure Emma would rather have it than a truck. She named it Teddy, after the one she lost.”

  Hank hesitated, as if there was a subject he wasn’t entirely sure he should raise. Then he said, “Robbie also told me someone in the mall called you his mother.”

  Her heart stopped for an instant while she studied his expression, trying to decipher how he felt about that.

  “It made me think,” he went on at last, “that we’re going to have to fill him in sooner or later.”

  She licked her suddenly dry lips.

  “But...Natalie, he’ll find it very confusing.”

  “Yes, I know,” she murmured.

  “And I want us to be able to explain exactly how it will affect him. So I’d like to sit down with you, right now, and try to figure out just how we’re going to divide up our time with him.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  HAD FORCING THE issue been a good idea or not?

  Hank didn’t know, although he was positive that Doris Wagner wouldn’t approve. However, she wasn’t the one being driven crazy by the uncertainty.

  At any rate, he’d done it, unsettling Natalie so badly in the process that her hands had been trembling when she’d poured the hot chocolate from the saucepan.

  She set one of the mugs in front of him, then sat down on the opposite side of the table. In Audrey’s place.

  That reminded him of the question Audrey had asked him last night. If Robbie wasn’t living here all the time...

  As he’d told her, he’d be happy to have her stay, regardless. But she might decide she’d prefer to work for a family with full-time children. And if that happened, then when Robbie was here...

  He wrapped his hands around the mug and told himself to take things one step at a time.

  “So,” he said, gazing over at Natalie. “The question that didn’t get answered last night is just how much time do you want with him?”

  He watched her lick her lips, amazed when he realized he was thinking how kissable they looked. He didn’t want to be thinking that. And how could he be thinking about anything except what her answer would be?

  She picked up her mug and took a sip, then carefully put it back down. But she couldn’t delay answering forever.

  “What I would like,” she said at last, “is to have Robbie living with me full-time. To have him come and visit you when you’re on vacation. Or have you come and visit him.”

  His pulse pounding in his ears, he simply shook his head, afraid that if he opened his mouth he’d yell at her.

  “Wait, Hank,” she said. “That’s what I’d like. That’s not what I’m suggesting. I know it wouldn’t be fair to either of you. He loves you. And you love him. So do I, though, and...

  “This isn’t at all what I imagined I’d be saying—in the beginning, I mean. But now that I’ve seen you together...”

  She paused for what seemed like an eternity, then said, “How would you feel about six months each?”

  For a moment he had trouble believing he’d heard right. She was prepared to settle for half of the time, which was the best he could have realistically hoped for. And that was without any negotiating on his part.

  But what if she was playing the sort of game Doris had told him to play? Starting at what she considered high, because she assumed he’d do his utmost to talk her down.

  If that was it, she must not figure most judges would award her as much as six months. So would she actually settle for less?

  Looking across the table at her again, he knew he couldn’t make himself even try to find out. Not when his instincts were telling him that she really did want to be fair.

  And fifty-fifty was probably as good as it got—for them. Yet would it be best for Robbie?

  He took a few seconds to consider what he should say and decided on, “Six and six would work short-term. But what about when it’s time for Robbie to start school? Then we’re talking ten months in one place or the other.

  “I can’t claim to know much about the education system in Guatemala,” he added, launching into the argument he’d rehearsed a thousand times in his head. “But I don’t imagine it’s anywhere near as good as the one here. Plus the teachers would speak Spanish, which he’d still only be learning.”

  Amazingly, instead of disagreeing, she nodded. “I was thinking that he could live with you from September through February, and with me from March through August. That way, he’d be here for most of the school year. Then I could get his books and an outline of the rest of what he’s got to cover. Make sure he learns everything he should.

  “It would be homeschooling,” she added. “And as long as he ended up knowing what the school board says he has to...”

  “Yeah, I guess,” Hank made himself say.

  When she was being so damned reasonable, how could he not? But every time he thought about how she’d lost Robbie in the first place...

  “And I guess it’s the most logical plan,” he finally continued. “Only...Natalie, the thought of his spending six months a year in a country prone to earthquakes scares the daylights out of me.”

  For a long minute she was silent.

  He watched her staring at the table, her tangle of silky hair hiding her face. He was aware his heart was beating fast—and aware it wasn’t only the discussion that had it racing. Sitting here with her, just the two of them...

  As improbable as the timing might be, he was acutely conscious of the connection between them. And surely “between them” was right, because how could something that felt so strong possibly be one-sided?

  It couldn’t. He was almost certain of that. And assuming he was right, then if there was just some way to co
nvince her that leaving Guatemala wouldn’t mean the end of the world...

  Taking a long, slow breath, he silently admitted that, somewhere along the line, he’d gone beyond merely thinking about her moving back to the U.S. and living nearby. Having her here in the house had started him wondering if...

  But when it came to the idea of her living anywhere other than in Villa Rosa, she’d made her feelings only too clear.

  “You know what scares the daylights out of me?” she said, finally looking at him once more.

  “No. What?”

  “Your job.”

  “What?” This was the first time she’d said a word about that and it took him completely by surprise.

  “My father had a younger brother who was a police officer,” she said quietly.

  Hank felt a cold chill when she used the past tense. It warned him this might well be a story he’d heard a hundred times before.

  “My uncle Ted,” she continued. “He wasn’t married, and while I was a kid he was always dropping by the house.

  “Sometimes, when he did, he’d take me to a movie. I absolutely adored him.

  “At any rate, he wanted to treat me to lunch for my sixteenth birthday. He made reservations at a really good restaurant, and was supposed to pick me up at noon.

  “But he didn’t.”

  Here it comes, Hank thought.

  “It turned out he’d walked into a bank that morning, off duty, and discovered some guy in the process of robbing it. He intervened and...ended up dead.”

  Images of the cops he’d known who’d ended up dead formed in his head. Most of them had had families. Wives and children. Parents. Brothers and sisters. Nieces and nephews.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.

  Natalie merely nodded. “After I’d read Rodger Spicer’s report and knew you were a homicide detective, I couldn’t stop thinking—what if I hadn’t found Robbie and you’d been killed? With your wife out of the picture, what would have happened to him?”

  “I have no intention of getting killed.”

  “Neither did my uncle,” she said softly.

  “Maybe, because of him,” she continued, “I have the sense that police work is even more dangerous than it actually is. But when you were late coming home this morning I couldn’t help worrying. Imagining all sorts of awful things that might have happened.