Daniel's Gift (12 page)

"I only said that Danny was looking for his father," Merrilee said defensively. "I wasn't thinking about his reaction at the time."

"It doesn't matter."

"Did you speak to Luke last night when you went to his house? You never said."

"No. I looked through the window. I did ring the bell, but the housekeeper wouldn't let me in. She told me Danny wasn't there, so I left."

"Don't tell Luke now, Jenny. Keep him out of your life. It's for the best."

"Believe me, I have no intention of contacting Luke."

"You won't have to, because I'm already here."

The voice, so familiar, so haunting, made Jenny whirl around in disbelief. Standing in the doorway was Luke Sheridan, the man who had given her so much joy, so much heartbreak, so much anger.

Jenny couldn't say anything. She simply stared into Luke's face. He was an older, harder version of Danny, but he had the same blond hair, the same bright blue eyes, the same cleft in the chin. She remembered tracing his lips with her fingers, tickling his nose with her hair, kissing his eyelids, the long curve of his aristocratic nose. He had been her soul mate, her playmate, her lover.

Luke's face was grim and stern. He didn't have Danny's pug nose, Danny's dimples, or her son's generous mouth. Those features came from her, reminding her with bittersweet irony that Danny came from her as well as from Luke, that this man was Danny's father.

Why now? Why did he have to come back now? As she studied his face, his eyes grew dark. Worry lines shadowed the corners of his eyes.

Merrilee came up behind Jenny and put a strong arm around her shoulders. "What do you want, Mr. Sheridan?" Merrilee asked.

Luke didn't answer Merrilee. His attention was focused solely on Jenny, as if he could see right through to her soul. Luke had always read her so well. She didn't want him to read her now, didn't want him to know how strongly he affected her. It had been thirteen years since she had been this close to him. She shouldn't be feeling anything, but she was.

He smelled like her youth, like warm summer days and hot sultry nights. His voice took her back to bonfires on the beach, to love songs played on an old guitar. Her gaze traveled down his body to his hands, to the strong, capable hands that had played her like a fine instrument.

Jenny closed her eyes and felt dizzy. Her body swayed. If Merrilee hadn't been holding her up, she probably would have crumpled to the ground. It was too much to take in. Danny's accident. Now Luke.

"Jenny, Jenny," Merrilee said with a shake. "Are you all right?"

Jenny opened her eyes again, hoping he was gone. He wasn't. "I'm fine," she muttered.

"What are you doing here?" Merrilee asked Luke. "Can't you see you're upsetting her? Go away."

"I can't go away. I have to speak to Jenny."

"She's upset. She can't talk to you right now."

"It's important."

Jenny watched the play between them like a tennis match.

"I want to speak to Jenny -- alone," Luke said firmly.

"Anything you have to say can be said in front of me. I'm her sister, in case you've forgotten."

"How could I forget? You're quite the protector."

"Someone has to take care of her."

Jenny straightened at her sister's words. They were talking about her as if she were a child. "What do you want, Luke?"

"Jenny, you don't have to talk to him," Merrilee protested.

"It's okay."

"I saw an article in the paper," Luke said. "A boy was hit by a car. Your son?"

Jenny slowly nodded. "Yes. Danny." Her voice caught.

Luke took an impulsive step forward, his hand reaching out to her.

Jenny stiffened, feeling the pull between them as strongly as he did.

Luke stopped abruptly. He lowered his arm and dug his hands into the pockets of his slacks, wrinkling his fine suit coat in the process.

"How -- how is he?" Luke asked.

"Not good. He has a head injury."

"Jenny, why don't you sit down?" Merrilee suggested. "You can speak to Mr. Sheridan later -- much later."

"Jenny, I need to talk to you alone, just for a moment."

Jenny hesitated, her brain sending out a thousand screaming warnings to say no. But Luke sounded desperate, and it wasn't an emotion she had ever associated with him.

"Merrilee, could you get me some coffee?" she asked.

"What?" her sister replied, completely incensed. "You want me to leave?"

"I can handle this."

"Jenny, no."

"A cup of coffee. Five minutes."

Merrilee sighed. "Five minutes," she warned as she passed Luke.

A full minute passed before Luke said anything at all. Jenny stared at the buttons on his shirt, at the crease in his slacks, at his expensive Italian shoes, anywhere and everywhere but at his face. With any luck, Merrilee would be back before he opened his mouth.

"You look -- just the same," he said finally.

They weren't the words she had expected to hear. But they were safe words, and she was grateful.

"Hardly. I'm older now."

"You don't look it. Your hair, it's the same color as dark chocolate. I think of you every time ..." His voice drifted away, and he shook his head in a punishing gesture.

"Why are you here?" Jenny asked.

His face tightened at her words. "I think Danny came to see me yesterday."

Jenny swallowed hard, trying not to show any emotion. "I doubt that. He doesn't even know you."

"A boy came to the door yesterday afternoon, but my wife answered it."

"Your wife." The words cut her so deeply, Jenny sat down on the edge of the couch. His wife. Of course, she had known about his wife for years, but she had never heard Luke say the words. They sounded so intimate on his lips. Not that she cared. Of course she didn't care.

Luke had been a lifetime ago, a youthful fantasy, a broken heart. She didn't care about him anymore. She hated him for not wanting her -- for not wanting Danny.

Danny, her son, her beautiful baby. The one Luke had wanted her to abort. Her heart hardened into steel. "You must be mistaken," she said.

"Denise said he was selling candy," Luke continued. "I only caught a glimpse of him, but I kept thinking about him last night. When I saw his picture in this morning's paper, I felt sure it was the same boy."

"Sometimes Danny sells candy for his school."

"So, he was in my neighborhood yesterday?"

"Maybe. He was with a friend. I'm not sure exactly where they went. I was at work."

"You don't know where your son goes after school?"

Anger flared at his insinuation, and she stood up, squaring her shoulders. "I take good care of my son. What he does after school is none of your business."

Jenny walked to the door of the waiting room. She had to get away from Luke.

"Jenny, wait." Luke's voice stopped her.

She paused, one hand on the edge of the doorjamb. "What?" she asked, her back to Luke.

"Where is Danny's father?"

She took in a deep breath and slowly counted to ten. "He's not here."

"Isn't he?" Luke walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder. He spun her around.

His touch was searing, his eyes demanding, impatient.

Oh God, he knew!

"Is Danny my son?" Luke whispered, gripping her shoulders with hands so tight they bit into her skin.

"No. No." She shook her head. "Why would you think that? You told me to get an abortion."

"And you took my money. But that doesn't mean you got one. Besides, the paper said he's twelve years old."

"So what?"

"I can count."

"I have to go. My son needs me." She struggled to pull out of his arms, but he wouldn't let her go.

"Don't lie to me, Jenny."

"I'm not."

"You are. You're transparently honest, you always have been. You're not looking at me. You're avoiding me. Why? Because I'm Danny's father? Because you never told me we have a son?" Luke shook her, his eyes flaring with fury. "Danny's my son, isn't he?" He shook her again. "Isn't he?"

Chapter Nine

"Mrs. St. Claire?" The nurse called her name from a few steps away. Luke's hands tightened, then released. Jenny turned around, thankful to be free from Luke's punishing gaze.

"Yes?"

Leslie looked at her a little strangely. "The doctors are done. You can go in now."

"Thank you. I'll be right there."

"This isn't the end, Jenny," Luke said.

"It is the end." Jenny faced him with as much courage as she could muster. "Go away, Luke. Danny isn't your son. You and I have absolutely nothing to talk about."

Jenny abruptly turned and walked away, her back as stiff as a rod, her head held proudly, defiantly.

It was a good exit line, Luke thought cynically, but he didn't believe her for a second. Damn her. She had had his baby twelve years ago and never said a word.

She could deny the truth all she wanted, but his ego refused to entertain the possibility that there had been another man all those years ago. No, impossible.

He had seen her face that day. Seen her tears. She had told him she was pregnant. She had said he was the father.

Luke ran a hand through his hair in complete frustration. For the first time in a long time he didn't know what to do. He was married to another woman for God's sake. The easiest thing to do would be to walk away. Jenny didn't want him to be involved. Denise certainly wouldn't want him to be involved.

But what about the boy? He saw the vision in his mind as clearly as he had the night before. Danny had called him Dad. How could he forget that?

He couldn't. This wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

* * *

"Hey, he's leaving. My dad's leaving," Danny protested. "Come back. Come back," he shouted, but Luke stepped through the elevator doors and disappeared. "What's he doing? He's supposed to see me."

Jacob chewed on a wad of tobacco as he considered the situation. "Looks like he's running scared. Too bad."

"Too bad? I think it's terrible. What are you going to do?"

"Me? I was thinking of catching some college football on the tube, maybe taking a snooze."

"Sleep? You're going to sleep now?"

Jacob shrugged. "It's just a thought."

"I want you to stop my dad. Make him come back."

"I think that's up to you, kid."

"Me?" Danny looked at the elevator doors, then back at Jacob, who was walking upside down on the ceiling and whistling a silly tune. Making a sudden decision, Danny walked over to the elevator doors, paused, then tried to go through them. He found himself in midair and falling.

"J-a-c-o-b!" he screamed.

The elevator shaft was one long, dark tunnel. After an incredible free fall, Danny landed on top of the elevator, spread-eagled. He grabbed on to the sides with his fingertips, feeling like Indiana Jones on a wild adventure. The elevator seemed to be moving at an incredible pace. It was as terrifying as it was exciting.

Jacob suddenly appeared next to him, sitting cross-legged and tossing a baseball up and down in one hand. "What's the matter, kid? Afraid you're going to die?"

"Very funny." Danny pulled himself into a sitting position as the elevator stopped on a floor.

"What are you doing, anyway?" Jacob asked. "Just out of curiosity."

"I want to talk to my dad."

"He ain't here." Jacob waved his hand around the shaft as the elevator creaked and groaned and lurched into another floor of descent.

"I know that. He's inside this thing."

"Then, maybe you ought to go inside."

"How do I do that?"

Jacob reached out and pulled open the top of the elevator as if he were popping the top on a can of soda. "Allow me."

Danny jumped down into the elevator. Luke was standing against the back wall, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his expression grim. Next to him was an older woman, plain and square, dressed in a lumpy black dress and clutching an oversized black leather purse to her chest. A little girl, about seven, stood in front of the woman, holding a large red Tootsie Pop in her hand.

Danny sighed. He wanted to talk to his dad alone, but he didn't have a choice. "Hey, Dad." Danny touched Luke's arm with his hand.

Luke didn't look at him, but he did shake his arm, as if he had felt the phantom touch.

"Dad, where are you going? You're supposed to be upstairs. You're supposed to be visiting me." Danny pointed to his chest. "Me, your kid, the one who's lying in a hospital bed."

Luke didn't respond, he just shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Danny looked up at Jacob. "How can I make him hear me?"

"You have to want it bad enough, that's all."