Dad drilled responsibility into us.
Adrian's comment reverberated in her head. If not for his sense of responsibility, she wouldn't be sitting in an attorney's office now, looking at ways to change the status quo. That same sense of duty would interfere with the life she'd originally planned with Jeremy because she couldn't imagine Adrian being happy with an arrangement that afforded him anything less than fifty percent of his son's actual time, care, or lodging.
"May I make a suggestion?" Mr Gray asked.
"Of course."
"Is there any way you two can work out your differences? Seek counseling, perhaps?"
"I…I don't know."
"As I said, I would encourage you to try."
Sabrina left Jonathan Gray's office, completely uncertain as to what to do next. She didn't want to give up Jeremy for as much as a single day, but after seeing how much Adrian loved his son, could she expect him to willingly do what she couldn't?
What options did she have?
She mulled over Gray's advice for the next few days until Wednesday evening, when she finally found the courage to raise the subject with Adrian. After sliding a pan of his favorite brownies into the oven for dessert, she waited for her opportunity.
"I spoke to an attorney the other day," she said offhandedly.
"Oh?"
"He'll draw up a will that appoints you as Jeremy's guardian if anything should happen to me."
For several seconds he didn't answer, as if he was either choosing his words carefully or stopping himself from saying something he might later regret. "I suppose I should admit I did the same."
She was stunned. "You did?"
"Well, my will isn't quite like yours because of the guardianship issue, but if anything happens to me, everything I own will belong to you and Jeremy."
"You did that? For us?"
"Of course." He seemed surprised that she'd asked. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well…" She hesitated. "What if you meet someone you want to marry?"
"If by some chance I do, wills can always be changed."
Once again, the thought of a stepmother appearing in her son's life didn't sit well in Sabrina's heart. The idea of another woman in Adrian's life was equally disconcerting.
"The point is," he continued while she stewed about the possibility, "we have Jeremy's future decided if one of us dies, but what do we do while we're both living?"
She toyed with her fork. "The attorney and I talked about that, too."
He studied her thoughtfully. "And?"
"He suggested we create a parenting plan."
For several seconds, he didn't answer. "Which means what?"
She drew a bracing breath. "We decide if I should have primary physical custody and if we'll share legal custody. That way, we're both involved in any major decisions like Jeremy's education or medical concerns."
"By primary physical custody, you mean he'll live with you three hundred and sixty-five days out of the year."
"More or less."
Once again, he fell silent. "I don't care for your solution."
"I didn't think you would," she said wryly.
"Out of curiosity, what happens if we don't agree on terms?"
"Then the court will decide for us. And…" her breath caught "…most likely, Jeremy will be shuttled back and forth between us." She met his gaze. "I've already made my feelings plain. I don't want Jeremy to be displaced every week."
He rose from the table and scraped his plate into the garbage disposal. "I'm not happy about it either, but what choice do we have?"
What choice, indeed? He already knew the answer by the calm way in which he spoke. He was simply waiting for her to accept and admit it, too.
But could she commit to a wedding because she didn't want to be separated from her son? After all, there was a slight chance the judge would rule in her favor. Adrian's cellphone interrupted her thoughts.
He glanced at the display and smiled. "My sister," he said before he answered.
"Hi, Marcy. I'm in the middle something monumentally earth-shattering and life-changing." His wink in her direction brought a warm glow to her face. "So this had better be good."
His teasing tone disappeared and his smile turned into a worried frown. "Room seven-fifteen. I'll be there. Call me if anything changes." He clicked off the connection.
"What's wrong?"
A cold, hard mask had settled on his face. "It's Clay. He's in hospital."
Her stomach clenched. "Oh, Adrian."
"Apparently he has peritonitis. His so-called food poisoning last week was apparently a leaky appendix. His temperature shot up and he went into a seizure." He jumped up. "I have to go."
"I'll help you pack your bag." After a quick swipe of Jeremy's messy face, she placed him in his playpen and went to the bedroom.
Adrian's suitcase lay open on the bed as he yanked clothes off hangers and tossed them haphazardly in its direction. "I'll do this," she ordered. "Fetch your shaving kit."
He left, presumably for the bathroom, and returned a minute later with his toiletry case in hand.
"Do you want all your clothes or just enough for a day or two?" she asked, poised in front of the closet.
"Enough for a few days. Just casual stuff. If I need anything else, I'll get it from my house."
She quickly folded the clothes meeting his criteria inside the soft-sided case and left the others to hang up later.
As soon as she'd packed his essentials, he zipped the piece of luggage closed and headed for the door.
"You'll drive carefully, won't you?" she asked, knowing his worry could make him inattentive and impatient behind the wheel.
"Yeah."
"And you'll call me. To tell me how he's doing?"
His "Yeah, sure," sounded so automatic, she wondered if he meant what he'd said. Although if he didn't call, she knew his number.
He paused at the playpen, bent down and kissed Jeremy's cheek, then hurried out of the house.
Sabrina tried not to feel rejected, but she did. Suddenly she was glad they hadn't had the conversation she'd hoped for because his action couldn't have spelled out his feelings any plainer.
She was only a convenience. A means to an end. A necessary evil to live with in order to have access to his son. Granted, he'd been in a hurry when he'd left, but he could have acknowledged her in some way, instead of ignoring her.
Fighting back tears, she began clearing the dishes when suddenly the front door slammed. She turned to see Adrian striding purposely toward her.
"I forgot something," he said.
She blinked the wetness out of her eyes and swallowed the lump in her throat. "I can't imagine what," she said, hating to hear the choked-up sound coming out of her throat.
He planted a hard kiss against her mouth. "I will call you," he said, and then he left.
He came back because he'd forgotten to kiss her?
Oh, my.
She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. Tears streamed down her face as she sank onto the nearest chair. Adrian's one small action sent her spirits soaring before they crashed with chagrin and embarrassment at how quickly she'd thought the worst, and how badly she'd misjudged his actions.
If they were going to have any sort of future, she had to stop reading events through the veil of her insecurities and have more faith in him. If he was trying to put their past behind him, she couldn't do any less.
The kitchen clean and Jeremy happily entertaining himself, she began straightening the clothes Adrian had discarded in an untidy heap. It didn't take long, but as she retrieved a pair of trousers off the floor, a scrap of paper fell from a pocket. Thinking it might be a phone message or an appointment reminder, she unfolded the slip and saw it was a cashier's check receipt.
Certain he'd need it for business purposes, she laid it on the dresser. Just as she turned away, the amount caught her eye and she froze.
She hadn't misread those numbers. They matched her hospital bill down to
the last cent.
Adrian had paid her bill. Adrian had been her anonymous benefactor. Adrian had wiped out her debt.
How could he do this to her? He knew she didn't want his financial support, but he gave it anyway. Accepting the television and the rest of his "surprises" had been difficult enough, but knowing he'd paid her bill was doubly hard to swallow.
What motive did he have?
Righteous anger built. Was he trying to prove she couldn't provide for Jeremy, whereas he could? Or was it strictly conscience money, a way to pay her off and feel good in the process?
Have faith, her conscience whispered.
Shamed by breaking her vow in less than five minutes, she sank weakly onto the bed and scolded herself for jumping to conclusions.
Yes, he was deeply committed to his family and didn't shirk his perceived responsibilities toward them. As Jeremy was now a part of that circle, Adrian probably felt obligated to carry his share of her financial load.
Obligated. Oh, how she hated that word. She didn't want to be anyone's obligation, especially not Adrian's. She wanted him to love her and she desperately wanted to hear those words.
His love for us showed in the things he did and taught us…. He always made time when we needed him.
Why Adrian's description of his father popped into her head at that moment, she didn't know, but now that it had, she judged Adrian's actions by a new standard. Apparently Adrian's father had quietly let his actions speak for himself, which was what Adrian had obviously spent his entire life doing. Carrying the responsibilities of a family was a labor of love, not obligation or duty.
No, Adrian hadn't said he loved her, but she knew he did.
He'd come back to kiss her goodbye.
CHAPTER TEN
ADRIAN sat next to Clay's bed as he watched his brother sleep. IV tubes carried pain meds, fluids, and strong antibiotics while a urinary catheter and an abdominal drainage tube accomplished the opposite.
He paid close attention to the numbers flashing on the monitors. If a problem developed, he intended to catch it in the early stages. At the moment Clay's condition was stable, but he still felt powerless.
Clay would be fine. In his head, he recited those words like a mantra, but he couldn't stop thinking that he shouldn't have accepted his brother's self-diagnosis of food poisoning without asking more questions. He was the doctor in the family, dammit! His family relied on him for medical advice.
Some advice he gave. He'd simply told his brother to drink plenty of fluids and lay off the steaks for awhile. He may as well have recommended the famed take-two-aspirin-and-call-me-in-the-morning cure.
Marcy walked in, wearing her favorite hunter-green drawstring trousers and a colorful T-shirt that read, "Teachers have class". A huge bag hung off one shoulder and she balanced a steaming cup of coffee in each hand. "How's he doing?" she whispered.
"Resting comfortably. I see you're still carrying everything but the kitchen sink." He motioned to her purse.
"That's right," she whispered cheerfully as she handed over Adrian's latest dose of caffeine. "Teachers are like Boy Scouts. Our motto is 'Be prepared'. You never know what you'll need or when you'll need it." She nodded in Clay's direction. "What did the doctor say, or is telling me a breach of privacy regulations?"
"Jalil said Clay should be up and around in a few days." Jalil Kedar was Clay's general surgeon as well as Adrian's friend. "He'll be a sick puppy for a while, but they've loaded him with antibiotics so we should see improvement soon."
"Then he won't have any more seizures?"
"His was probably a reaction to his high temperature because he hasn't had any since his temp has come down to near normal. Jalil wants to take a wait-and-see attitude. If it happens again, we'll call in a neurologist."
"Clay's survived his share of medical problems, hasn't he?" she murmured.
"He's definitely met his quota," Adrian said wryly.
Marcy plopped down on a second chair. "It sounds as if he's on the mend, though."
"I think so."
"Then while we're waiting for Clay to finish his nap, I want to hear all about this earth-shattering, life-changing situation you were telling me about." Her eyes sparkled. "Does it have anything to do with a certain woman who's my nephew's mother?"
"You know about Sabrina? And Jeremy?"
She waved a hand. "Of course. Clay couldn't wait to call me with the news after your little dinner the other night. Frankly, bro, I'm disappointed you didn't invite Susan and me."
"It was a last-minute thing."
"So are you and Sabrina back together?" She sounded curious rather than upset or disappointed but, then, she'd told him he'd been a fool a year ago, immediately after he'd broken off their relationship.
"We're still working things out," he replied. "It's complicated."
She sighed. "It always is."
* * *
Sabrina waited all evening for Adrian's promised update and when the phone didn't ring, she lifted the receiver several times to verify she had a dial tone. Hating to contact him in case the situation was critical and he couldn't talk, she told herself not to worry.
He finally called her late Thursday morning. "Clay is doing OK. The antibiotics seem to be working, although he isn't too perky yet."
She heard the note of exhaustion in his voice and guessed at the cause. He probably hadn't left Clay's side, which meant he looked as rough as he sounded.
"I'm guessing you aren't too perky yourself," she said. "You stayed all night at the hospital, didn't you?"
"I slept a few hours here in the room."
Having worked at Mercy, she knew the sleeping arrangements available for family members. "In one of those awful recliners, I'll bet."
"Yeah, but I'll be fine."
"Are your sisters with you?"
"They were yesterday, but not today. Marcy has teacher in-services because school starts next week and Susan had an out-of-town audit she couldn't reschedule."
"I could drive down."
"No. It isn't necessary. Everything's under control."
Of course it was. Adrian would demand nothing but perfection and order. Meanwhile, he was probably driving the nurses crazy.
"Honestly, I don't mi—"
"Gotta go. I'll talk to you later." He disconnected before she could finish. Although she hadn't planned anything exciting for their four-day weekend, she hadn't dreamed they'd spend it in separate cities either.
He'd sounded so tired; he was obviously too intent on watching over Clay to take care of himself. Someone had to convince him to see reason and without any other candidates available, the task fell to her.
After several phone calls and two haphazardly packed bags later—one for Jeremy and one for herself—she exchanged her scruffy pair of denim shorts and formula-stained tank top for her favorite multicolored floral sundress. If she was going to barge into Clay's room without an invitation and brave Adrian's wrath for disobeying his wishes, she wanted the bolstering support of knowing she looked her best. A quick brush of her hair, a touch of eye-shadow, and she deemed herself ready.
As an afterthought, she added the matching lime-green sweater because hospital rooms were often chilly, then loaded Jeremy and their bags into her car. Within fifteen minutes the day-care staff at Pinehaven welcomed Jeremy into their fold and she headed southwest to Mercy Memorial.
An hour and a half later she stepped off the seventh floor elevator and onto her former nursing unit. Room seven-fifteen's door was slightly ajar, so she knocked, then waited a few seconds before strolling across the threshold.
Adrian's face registered surprise as his mouth curved into a welcoming smile. Before it stretched too far, though, he turned it into a frown. "Sabrina. What are you doing here?"
"Isn't it obvious? I came to visit," she said softly, aware of Clay sleeping a few feet away. "How's he doing?"
"The same as a few hours ago. You didn't have to come. I told you everything was fine."
"I know you did, but I wanted to see for myself." She eyed his wrinkled shirt, the dark shadow on his face. "I was right. You look as ragged around the edges as Clay does."
He shrugged, seemingly uncaring about his appearance. "Nothing that a little soap and water won't cure."
"Have you gone home?"
"I came straight here as soon as I arrived in town and I haven't left," he confessed. "My bag is still in the car."
"Maybe you should get it. I'm sure the shower in the doctors' lounge is free. You'll feel a lot better if—"
"I appreciate what you're trying to do, Bree, but I'm a big boy and don't need a mother hen telling me what to do."
She didn't allow his mood to bother her. "Testy today, aren't we?"
"Look," he said, more calmly than before. "I don't need company and, as you can see, neither does Clay."
So much for her mission of mercy. "Trying to give you moral support is like trying to force sour-tasting medicine down Jeremy's throat," she said lightly.
His eyes widened. "Speaking of Jeremy, where is he?"
"At day care. Kate will babysit after her shift ends and—"
"You left him over an hour away?" He sounded horrified.
"I couldn't bring him to the hospital for obvious reasons and I certainly couldn't leave him at your house alone either. I don't have a child-care system here."
"Then you shouldn't have come."
"Jeremy is in good hands. I didn't leave him by the side of the road or alone in an empty house, and I never would. You know that."
He fell silent and she watched him clench and unclench his jaw. It was easy to see how Clay's condition weighed heavily on his mind.
"Talk to me, Adrian. What's really bothering you? Is there a complication you aren't telling me?" She whispered her last comment so Clay couldn't overhear.
He raked a hand through his hair. "No complications. He's doing fine."
"Then why are you acting this way? I love you, so we're supposed to handle problems together." She hadn't meant to blurt out her feelings when she'd wanted to share them under the proper ambience, but the best-laid plans….
"There isn't a problem," he insisted.
"Something is eating you up inside. Why won't you tell me?"
"Go home, Sabrina, where…" His tired voice broke. "Just go home."
His Baby Bombshell Page 16
