by Sally John
In ways, she herself had been on the receiving end more than not. Maiya had helped her through the most difficult event of her life. Lacey had loved on her nonstop, even when she did not respond kindly. Randi had shown a nurturing side, however briefly, that touched Teal’s heart. Overall, the townspeople treated her with respect rather than the eyebrow-raising attitude of bygone days.
“Mom?” Maiya glanced at her and smiled. “Thank you.”
Teal grinned. “It was good?”
“Oh yes. I totally adore Aunt Lacey and Uncle Will. Gran Randi is a hoot. I wouldn’t want to live with her, but at least I know her now. Baker will be a forever friend. I might even have a crush on him.”
Teal laughed.
“And I know firsthand that Cedar Pointe is a nice place to visit once every nine years or so.”
“I take it you’re ready to get back to our regular life?”
“Am I still grounded?”
“Well, I have to check with your dad, but I think not.”
“Yes!” she shouted. “He said the same thing. That means I’m not!”
Teal rolled her eyes. It would be good to be back on the same page as River. “Mai, it goes without saying—”
“Except you are saying, and trust me, I know what it is. Jake is off limits. Right? I swear, Mom, I am so over the dude. No worries.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready to get back to our regular life?”
“Absolu . . .” Was she?
Not exactly.
Questions about Dutch had been answered. The rock of bitterness toward Randi had softened into a lump of compassion. Hatred toward Owen was simply gone. She, like Maiya, totally adored Lacey and Will. The business about Maiya’s bio dad was shelved again but in a different closet. She would know when it was time to open its door.
Through it all she had let down River, her bosses, Hannah Walton, and other clients. She owed them more than regular.
She smiled at Maiya. “I am absolutely ready to get back to our life, but regular is history. It’s time to step it up a notch.”
“Go, Mom.”
Teal laughed with a freedom she had never known.
Chapter 42
LOS ANGELES
Teal dropped her briefcase on the family room couch and slid off her pumps. “Honey, I’m home!” she shouted, walking into the kitchen. “Whoa! What is that luscious smell?”
River came around the corner, grinning behind a vase of a dozen red roses. Her husband wore his black suit—his only suit—white shirt, and sapphire-blue rep tie. He wore it because while she adored his ever-present blue jeans, rumpled shirts, and ball cap, she had a thing for him in a suit.
Oh.
His hair was neatly brushed off his face, behind his ears. “Welcome to Chez Riv, Mrs. Adams.” He set the vase on the counter and wrapped her in his arms.
Teal chuckled. “That sounds like a Maiya-ism.”
“It is.” He kissed her soundly. “But everything else was my idea.”
“Like what?” She hooked her hands at the back of his neck, gazed into those twinkling dark-blue eyes, and felt a twinge of disappointment. Visions of a romantic evening danced in her head, but with their daughter in the next room, those were out of the question.
“Well, the flowers were my idea.” He nodded toward the table behind him. “The candles. The leek soup, asparagus, French baguette, and chicken breasts with fontina and prosciutto.”
“Mm.”
“There’s one more. Maiya is spending the night at Amber’s.”
She opened her mouth to voice an automatic no because they had agreed to prioritize family this weekend. But River smiled his half grin and she turned to mush. “Best idea yet.”
“I thought so.” He winked. “Since we promised her she could see Amber tomorrow, I figured why not extend it to an overnight? Shauna wholeheartedly agreed. The girls have paid their penance. It’s time they got to be best friends again.” He kissed her forehead.
“I wholeheartedly agree too. Shall I slip into something more comfortable or help with dinner?”
He laughed. “I’ll put dinner on the table by myself.”
Teal drifted through the house. Candles were lit everywhere. Lights were dimmed. She removed her jacket and shed the day at the office along with it.
In the bedroom a long robe laid out on the bed caught her eye and she backtracked from the closet.
“Oh my.”
She sank onto the bed and touched the beautiful fabric. It was purple, a lavender shade. Inside the robe was a matching nightgown with slender straps. Silky. But it would be polyester. River understood that she did not need expensive—
The tag read 100 percent silk.
But . . .
Teal held the gift close, crossing her arms over it, hugging herself, keeping the sob inside.
River.
She and Maiya had arrived home the previous evening after two days on the road, blowing in like Santa Anas. The three of them ate pizza, exchanged snippets of news that only scratched the surface of their time apart, and made tentative plans for the weekend. They fell into bed, exhausted.
Early that morning—that Saturday morning—Teal headed out the door. Depositions were scheduled for the Walton case next week. She needed to go to the office and catch up on a million things.
Frankly, she also was ready for some time away from Maiya. Despite their bonding experience, she imagined Maiya felt the same about her. Six weeks of up-close-and-personal had been long enough. Father and daughter could have a special day together. Husband and wife continued in their holding pattern.
It was an obvious choice. Work and her own needs came first. River could wait. Still. They would meet up again after the depositions. Or after she caught up with her bosses. Or after the other cases on her desk were addressed. Or after, or after.
Was this the stepping up a notch she had imagined during the drive from Oregon?
It had only been twenty-four hours, but shouldn’t River have been top on her list? Instead, he took care of Maiya, prepared dinner, waited, did not complain, and bought her silk.
Silk was expensive.
Silk was feminine.
Silk exposed those lies Lacey had mentioned, the ones Teal thought had been silenced. The lies that said her dad would not have abandoned her if she was worthy or if she was a desirable, feminine woman.
Lies.
With this gift, River announced loud and clear that they were lies, not to be believed.
“Hey.” He stood in the doorway. “Do you like it?”
She smiled through her tears. “How about we delay dinner?”
He loosened his tie. “It’s keeping warm in the oven.”
The tapers had burned halfway down to the brass candlesticks. Still Teal and River lingered at the dinner table, the remains of his exquisite meal between them, giving voice to five weeks’ worth of daily details.
River said, “Randi actually cried when you said good-bye?”
“For real.”
“No way.” He teased, but his smile was genuinely happy for her.
“All of a sudden my mother cares. And what am I supposed to do with that?”
He appeared lost in thought, and she was content to watch him be lost in thought. His elbow was propped on the table, his chin cupped in his hand. He had not put on his tie or jacket. His shirt shone a brilliant white in contrast to the shadows cast by the candlelight. What had she done to deserve such a man? Nothing. He was a sheer gift. Just like the lavender silk she wore.
He lowered his hand, his eyes intent on her face. “Maybe it will eventually give you some sense of well-being.”
“Yeah, right. It’ll take another thirty-seven years and I’ll be . . .” Teal’s protest died in her throat. It was an old habit. There truly had been a response deep in her bones. A vague twinge when her mother said how despicable Dutch’s actions were . . . when Randi clung to her as they said good-bye.
She swallowed. “All right. I ad
mit I felt somehow, uh . . . I guess soothed is the word.”
He nodded. “It’s never too late to start expressing and receiving love. Who knows? Someday even Dutch may look you up.”
“Oh, River.” She shook her head. “Where do you get such hopeful notions? My last hopeful notion was that Randi would pull out a stash of letters from him that she hid because Owen did not want him in our lives. Those letters do not exist because I have not existed for him since I was three. At least back then he noticed me.” She snorted. “Or not. Maybe all that is a figment of my imagination too. Maybe we never did have a relationship.”
“What about your middle name?”
“Huh?”
“Susanna.”
“I know what my middle name is, hon.” She gave him a puzzled look.
He sighed, and his shoulders drooped. “You didn’t hear, then. Remember when the redheaded daughter came into his office?”
“How could I forget? My head was pounding by then. I was pretty much out of it. He’d shown us the photo, but the kids are less than half my age, so I thought maybe they weren’t his. But I knew that wasn’t true the moment I saw her because I was looking at me in a red wig. It was so bizarre.” She blinked. “But what’s this got to do with my name?”
He winced. “He called her Susanna. Specifically, it was ‘Susanna-Bobanna.’ Maiya told me.”
“Hm.” She bit her lip. “Hm. Well.” She gritted her teeth. She inhaled and exhaled. She clenched a fist. “Nuts! Just when I didn’t think it could hurt any more.”
River pushed aside plates and reached across the table and unfolded her hand. “Want my take on it?”
Her eyes stung. “No.”
“Listen, love. We can’t know what all went into his decision to leave you and your mom. But it’s apparent he was incapable of finding his way back to you. As far as we can tell, there were no letters, no money, no phone calls, no visits. What kept him away? Shame, guilt, fear, plain old cowardice, any number of things.”
She focused on River’s face and his low, gentle voice. It kept the tears from spilling.
“If there was one ounce of humanity in Dutch, he must have been hurting.”
“River, trust me. There is not a shred of humanity in that man.”
“Imagine him with the teensiest bit of it. How do you turn your back on your precious three-year-old without shutting down?”
“I can let him go, but I am not feeling pity for him.”
“I’m not saying you should. Just hang in here with me a minute. So, he was in this unbearable pain and like any macho guy, he reacts by shutting down and moving on. He makes a new life. He even marries again and has children. And he names one of them after you because either consciously or not, he is trying to replace the one he lost.”
“Meaning?”
“He really did love his first daughter. He just didn’t know how to show it.”
“That’s a pathetic excuse.”
“It is. But it’s real life. The point is, we all crave forgiveness and compassion.”
“Preach it, brother.”
He chuckled. “Make fun if you want. You know it’s the truth.” He squeezed her hand and began stacking the plates. “It’s late, and tomorrow is a big day for Maiya.”
Lost in her own thoughts, Teal watched him clear the table. She wanted to remind him that she’d dealt with this business ages ago. She had forgiven Randi, Owen, and Dutch. Shoot, she’d forgiven the whole town. For her own sake, she had let everyone off the hook. Her anger was gone. She harbored no bitterness.
But as in River’s scenario with Dutch, she had shut down a part of herself. She had crusted over to stop the incessant hurting. The problem was, closing off her heart annihilated the ability to feel any honest compassion toward them.
She touched the edge of her silk sleeve where River’s hand had rested on her hand. Maybe the inability to feel any goodness toward her parents was one more lie to stop believing.
Teal blew out the candles and joined River in the kitchen to help clean up.
He said, “Maiya has a list a mile long of what she needs to do before school on Monday. She wants to wrap all those bracelets she got for friends and those jars of jam she bought for teachers.”
“Do you think that smacks of bribery?”
“Nah.” He poured detergent into the dishwasher. “It smacks of forgiveness and compassion.”
Teal threw a towel at him.
He caught it midair, laughing. “It shows that she forgives the system for suspending her and feels bad for them because they didn’t get to visit Oregon.” He shut the dishwasher and grabbed Teal in a hug. “She is a funny kid. Taking her up there was brilliant, Teal. I haven’t seen her this chipper for months. Must be the healing power of extended family.”
“And the healing power of no Jake Ford in her life.”
“That too. Are we glad he got another girlfriend or what?” He held her face between his hands, his expression sobering with his voice. “So, about tomorrow. What do you need from me?”
Sunday promised to be a full day. She was eager to touch base with old friends at church. Laundry was piled sky high. Some down time for the three of them was in order, maybe takeout Chinese—unheard of in Cedar Pointe—and a video.
She said, “Um, run her to the paper shop and buy a bunch of gift bags?”
His brow creased. “I was talking about The Talk with Maiya.”
She heard the capital letters. “The Talk?”
“You promised to tell her Bio Dad’s identity once you got home. It’s going to take some time for her to process it.”
Bio Dad’s identity? “Is that on her to-do list?”
“She didn’t mention it.”
“River, I told you what she told me. She does not want to hear it now, not after meeting Dutch. And there’s no way on earth I want to tell her. I’m not going to put her through anything remotely similar to what happened to me.”
He frowned.
“You disagree.”
“Yes, I disagree.” He lowered his hands to her shoulders, gave them a quick squeeze, and let go. Stepping back, he leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “I disagree strongly. You promised her.”
“There are extenuating circumstances.”
“Extenuating excuses. Come on, Teal. You’re the adult. You understand that she needs this information. She has a father wound just like you do. If it doesn’t get addressed, she’s likely to act out again, which is what the Jake thing was all about.” He paused.
She wanted to cover her ears.
He said, “Which is what your behavior was all about, right? Why you slept with him and kept the baby?”
The lies again. Lies about not being good enough. Lies about using others and being used to fill the emptiness, that place that hurt so bad because her dad had bailed. Lies about keeping a baby because then she would have someone who loved her.
No, she was not ready to open the closet. She reached for a compromise. “I’m not telling her tomorrow.”
“Okay. It’s your decision.”
She met his steady gaze. “Okay. We agree to disagree.”
He didn’t blink or budge.
She loathed and loved how he could do that, nail her with The Look, the one he used with his boys.
It did not mean he was pressing her to change her mind but rather to examine herself. It always sent her thoughts spinning. No one else could do that to her. It was probably what attracted her to him in the first place.
She gave him her own look. Don’t mess with me.
He was supposed to uncross his arms and shrug.
But he didn’t.
Fine. She had done enough self-examination in the past five weeks to last forever. She was in good shape, considering. The family reunion had been difficult, but in the end made a positive impact on her. The Dutch meeting had been less fiasco than wake-up call to let the memory of him go. Maiya had gotten to know her relatives, almost all of them, and it was more
than enough to fill her emotional tank.
Teal held out her hands in defeat. “Whatever it is you want to say, say it. I can take it.”
Although he kept his arms folded, the air about him relaxed. “I’m not asking you to tell me anything.”
“All right.”
“I want to make sure you fully realize that it’s not exactly rocket science to figure out who he is.”
Heat exploded in her chest and burned its way up her neck.
He said, “Anyone who saw and heard what I did in Cedar Pointe could figure it out. Lacey and Will for sure. Maybe his parents. Maybe even Maiya.”
Her cheeks felt on fire. How could she tell River? It wasn’t the identity exactly. It was the circumstances. It was the betrayal of so many people. It was herself, sin incarnate.
Could others really and truly guess who he was?
With difficulty she swallowed. “Please don’t . . .”
“Teal, I won’t tell anyone. No one said anything. It’s just fairly obvious.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to. And it’s not just Maiya that you’re hurting. It’s her uncle and grandparents.” His voice was barely a whisper. “It’s her dad who must not even know she exists.”
She studied the floor tiles. The flecked beige had been a good choice. A shiny ceramic brightened the narrow kitchen and did not show every speck of dirt. River’s bare feet came into her line of sight.
“You needed to hear that.”
“Yeah.” She looked up at him. “Um . . . I don’t know how to get out of this. Can we not go to bed angry?”
“Hey, you.” He wrapped her in his arms again. “I am not mad. I hurt for you. You’re behaving like a silly, delusional woman, and that is not who you are. I had hopes that you would take off the mask.”
She winced, glad that her shameful face was hidden against his neck. She was totally silly and delusional.
But it worked.
Chapter 43
