For the Girls' Sake (19 page)

For better or worse.

"Lynn..." His voice was rusty. "I’ll give you time."

Because he didn’t really want her? Or because he was a gentleman? She wished she were sure.

"I...thank you." Was that truly what she’d wanted to say?

He looked down at their hands but didn’t release hers. "Your phone’s ringing."

"It is?" She felt stupid the minute the words slipped out. How strange. She had once thought herself in love, but never with Brian had she felt as if everyone else in the world had faded away, like a photograph where the surroundings were misty, the focus on the two subjects. She swallowed. "I mean, I’d better answer it."

"Sure."

He was the one to release her hand. She wasn’t sure she’d have had the strength herself. How very strange.

Yet to someone else, Lynn thought, she would have looked perfectly normal as she stood and went to the kitchen. The answering machine had picked up; she heard her own voice, followed by Brian’s. He hadn’t called in months. Why now? Lynn hesitated with her hand just above the phone.

"Lynn? Are you there?" Pause. "Listen, I wanted to say..."

Belatedly it occurred to her that Adam might be able to hear him out in the living room.

She grabbed the receiver. "I’m here."

"Oh. Uh, hi."

"What do you want?" How cold she sounded!

The breath he drew was audible. "I’ve just been thinking...well, if you’re really strapped for money, I mean, I could help out."

Her mouth actually dropped open. "You’re offering to send me child support?"

"Well, I don’t know about regular..." This awkwardness wasn’t like him. "But I can send you some money when I’ve got extra. If you need it."

Of course she’d needed it! Her anger crystallized, and yet through it she realized that, in his own way, he was being generous.

"I miss Shelly. How’s she doing?"

"She’s fine." When had she last mentioned her daddy? Lynn couldn’t remember. Before Adam, certainly.

"Mom and Dad were saying they’d like to see her, too."

Lynn closed her eyes. "I got married today."

"You got married?" he echoed incredulously.

"To Shelly’s father."

Silence. Then he said at last, bitterness there but muted, "So everything’s all wrapped up. You’ve got both kids and his money. You don’t need me." He made a sound. "You never did."

A spark of anger incinerated her usual guilt. "That’s a lucky thing, isn’t it?" she flared. "You haven’t exactly been here for your daughter lately, have you?"

"I said I missed her."

"Uh-huh. Well, she’s probably forgotten you in all the months it took you to come to realize that. She’s three-and-a-half years old, Brian. She needs parents who are here. Fortunately, she has them now."

She heard him breathing heavily. The old Brian would have had a comeback that would succeed in making her feel low. This one surprised her.

"Yeah. You’re right," he said humbly. "I’m sorry."

"Shelly loved you."

"She just never
felt
like she was mine," he explained in a tone of unwonted humility. "I guess that shouldn’t have made any difference, but for me it did. But she’s a great kid. And, um, I wouldn’t mind meeting this Rose."

Lynn sighed. "We haven’t told either of the girls what happened. That part scares me. I don’t want them to feel insecure. Someday we’ll have to. But in the meantime, it’s awkward."

"Yeah. I understand. Maybe I could, like, just drop by and see both the girls."

“You have a legal right," she said stiffly.

"You know I wouldn’t hold that over you. Just let me know when you think it might be a good time. Okay?"

"Yes, fine," Lynn said slowly.

She half expected there to be some catch, but apparently Brian had said what he intended to, and his goodbye was hasty. Bemused, she returned to the living room.

Adam hadn’t turned the TV back on. His head was bent over a book she’d left sitting on the coffee table. It was an anthology of short stories and poetry about mothers and daughters.

"What do you think?" she asked, nodding at it as she sank onto the couch again.

"Jenny had cut this poem out of a magazine, back when she was pregnant." His voice was strangled. "She was sure she was going to have a girl."

Lynn hesitated, not knowing what to say. What terrible luck, to have left something out that would remind him of his first wife!

At last she settled for, "I wish you’d show me more pictures of her."

"I have a photo album." Adam gently closed the book and set it on the coffee table. "Remind me. Sometime."

She sensed that the subject was closed with the same gentle finality as the book covers.
Please don’t intrude, she heard in his tone.

"Was that your mom?" Adam asked.

"On the phone? No. It was Brian. He’s apparently been feeling guilty," she said dryly. "He says he misses Shelly. He was willing to send money if I needed it."

"You told him we were married?" Adam’s gaze homed in on her face, its intensity unnerving.

"Uh-huh." She paused. "He’d still like to see Shelly sometime. And meet Rose."

Adam shifted restlessly. "Life’s getting complicated. Maybe we should tell the girls. They won’t understand much of what happened anyway. I’ve read that adopted children are less likely to have problems later if they’ve always known, and the adoptive parents tell them as much as they can handle at any given age. I think we should do the same."

Lynn nodded slowly. "We almost have to. So your parents and in-laws can meet Shelly, and Brian and his parents Rose."

"I wouldn’t suggest it if that were the only reason."

Had she offended him? Meeting his gaze, Lynn said quietly, "I didn’t think you had. I know how much you love Rose. And Shelly."

"They’re what matters," he said with intensity she took as a message.

Not you. Not us. Even if it is our wedding day.

The very thought felt selfish. She should be totally focused on the well-being of Shelly and Rose, grateful that Adam was doing the same. Not wishing he cared about her.

"Of course they are," she agreed.

Stroking the brocade fabric of the sofa, she closed her eyes momentarily. Thank goodness Brian had called when he did! She had been on the verge of making herself look foolish.

Adam couldn’t have made it clearer that he wasn’t interested in her, that he’d married her for her daughter. How else could she interpret the grief on his face when the poem Jennifer had loved brought back memories of her? The firm reminder that this wedding had taken place because of the girls?

"Do you know," Lynn said with what she hoped was a pleasantly apologetic smile, "I think I’ll get ready for bed. If you don’t mind my using the bathroom first?"

"No. Of course not," he said courteously. But when she stood and started past, his hand on her arm stopped her. His voice changed. Deepened. "Thank you. For today."

"For today?" she repeated stupidly.

"For agreeing to be my wife."

Was he flirting with her? Reassuring her? She had no idea.

This man she’d married confused her. But then, she thought, looking down at his big hand gripping her arm, they had given themselves plenty of time to untangle the mystery each represented to the other. They’d promised a lifetime. She didn’t have to understand him today.

"I’m glad." She flushed. "I mean, that we did it. And that you’re not sorry."

He smiled, his eyes a warm rich brown. "Good night, Lynn. Sleep well."

"Good night." Cheeks still glowing, new hope fizzing in her chest, Lynn went to peek in at their children and to brush her teeth.

* * *

T
ELLING THE GIRLS
turned out to be absurdly easy. After lunch the next day, Adam took Rose for a walk when the rain let up. Lynn settled down on that sublimely cozy new sofa with Shelly on her lap, head against her shoulder.

They had fewer such moments these days. Having two children was a mixed blessing. Holding this child she’d loved from the first day, powerful emotion swelled in her chest, bringing a sting of tears to Lynn’s eyes.

"I love you, punkin," she murmured against her daughter’s silky head.

Shelly gave her a compulsive hug. "I love you," she whispered with unusual force.

Lynn bit her lip. "I have something I have to tell you."

Shelly didn’t move for a moment. Finally she uncurled enough to look up with big, solemn eyes the exact shade of her daddy’s. "Are Rose and Adam going home today?"

"Tomorrow." Lynn smiled, if shakily. "But Monday we’ll go to their house. I guess it’s our house now, too. Just like this is theirs."

Her forehead puckered. "Is Rose my sister, now?"

"Yes. That’s kind of what I have to tell you about."

Shelly waited.

"A few months ago, Adam and I found out something. You and Rose were born the same night in the same hospital. Almost at the same time."

Her frown deepened.

"What we found out is, the hospital mixed you two up. The baby who came out of my tummy was Rose, not you. You came out of Adam’s wife, Jennifer."

Alarm stirred. "But
you’re
my mommy."

"I’ll always be your mommy. I love you," Lynn said fiercely. "But haven’t you noticed that Rose looks kind of like me? We have the same impossible hair and—" she wrinkled her nose "—these freckles."

After a long pause, Shelly nodded.

"And
you,
" Lynn said, and gave her a squeeze, "look just like Adam’s wife. Except for the parts that look like him. Your eyes are the same color."

"You said he could be my daddy now. Right?"

"Right."

"But you’re still my mommy." Only the barest hint of a question imbued her declaration.

"Always and forever." Choked with emotion, Lynn still hesitated. "I just thought you should know," she explained carefully, "because you have more grandparents who want to meet you. Adam’s mommy and daddy, and his wife’s. I mean, his first wife’s."
Oh, forget it,
she decided. "Rose’s grandparents are yours now, and yours are hers."

Shelly looked perplexed.

Metaphorically Lynn threw up her hands. Making a face, she said, "I guess it’s a good thing your dad and I got married, huh? We’re one family, so we can share all those grandparents, right?"

Shelly’s expression became crafty. "If I have more grandparents, do I get more presents? When I turn four?"

"Probably," Lynn admitted. She tickled her daughter. "You greedy little thing, you!"

Shelly giggled and then burrowed back into her arms. Around the thumb she’d popped into her mouth, she asked, "How come Rose and Adam went outside? Without us?"

"So he could tell her the same thing I just told you. That really I’m her mommy, and he’s your daddy."

The thumb came out. "But you’re still mine, too."

Lynn wanted to make very, very sure Shelly believed her. "Forever and ever," she said strongly. "And Adam’s still her daddy, no matter what."

Shelly nodded. "That’s okay," she said matter-of-factly. "We can be sisters, just like you said. I
like
Rose."

"I know." Lynn hugged her and rocked gently. Shelly’s eyelids grew heavy and at last her thumb fell from her mouth. Smiling and crying, just a little, Lynn carried her to bed.

Not three minutes later, she heard footsteps on the stairs and Adam appeared with Rose in his arms. With swift intensity, his gaze took in Lynn’s face, and she guessed that he saw the traces of tears. But she smiled.

"Hi. Did you guys have a good walk?"

Rose looked at her with vivid blue eyes. "Daddy says you’re my mommy."

She smiled tremulously. "That’s right."

"I never had a mommy before."

"I know."

"Can I call you Mommy?"

"You bet." Her heart sang.

"’Kay." Rose wriggled. "I want down, Daddy."

He lowered her to the ground. She came to Lynn and said sweetly, "Daddy says I should take a nap. Do I hafta?"

Laughing, Lynn went to one knee in front of her. "Yep. Moms and Dads usually agree."

"Poop," she said succinctly.

"Come on." Lynn held out her arms. Rose climbed trustingly into them. "Shelly’s already asleep. Can you be really, really quiet, or would you rather nap in my bed?"

"Can I look at books if I nap in your bed?"

"Why not?" Lynn said recklessly, not checking to see what Adam thought of the plan.

"Your bed, please." Rose sounded prim.

"Sleep tight, Zinnia," Adam said above her.

"Daddy!"

"Yeah, yeah. Rose."

Her eyes misty, Lynn smiled at him over their daughter’s head as she stood. His answering smile was wry. He knew what she felt, and felt the same. Today, they had gained something and lost something. Being an exclusive parent was heady. You were the whole world to your daughter. Now, suddenly, Rose and Shelly didn’t have just a mommy or daddy. They had both. They had permission to love equally.

Now Lynn had Rose’s soft arms around her neck, had her whisper, "I’m glad you’re my mommy." In turn, she had to live with the small hurts inflicted when Shelly was fascinated by her real daddy, wanted him instead of Mommy.

But this was the way it should be, Lynn thought as she tucked Rose under the quilt on her bed, as she tiptoed into Shelly’s room to snatch a stack of picture books for Rose to look at under the covers, as she kissed Rose’s forehead and quietly slipped out of the room.

A family.

Anchored by a mommy and daddy who had never kissed, never shared a bed, didn’t know each other’s birthdays. Weren’t in love, never had been.

Didn’t know if they could be.

But Lynn trusted Adam enough to know that she wasn’t alone in hoping they would find love, in
wanting
to find it.

Today, she chose to be an optimist and believe they would.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

L
YNN’S FIRST OFFICIAL ACT
as Adam’s wife might be the most difficult. She had to play gracious hostess to his first wife’s parents. Knowing they must resent her taking their daughter’s place, she had to understand and respect their grief.