The Still of Night (53 page)
A chasm of longing opened up for a baby inside her like Shelly’s, the flutters and kicks, even the groans and strain of pushing her out, then holding her, holding and never letting go.
Oh, God
. To look into the face of another baby with Morgan’s eyes.
She stood up. “I better go.”
“Can’t you stay and have lunch? Brett’s gone and I took the whole day off.”
Jill looked out at the silent rain.
Shelly caught her elbow. “You don’t want to go out there. Let’s put on a chick flick and eat hoagies and ice cream.”
Jill laughed. “Sounds pretty good.” Twice now, friends had stemmed the tide. Maybe that was God’s hand, invisible yet real, loving her through Pat and Gina, Deborah and Shelly. And she needed all the love she could get, since she was having dinner tomorrow night with her parents.
Morgan laughed with Todd as their jeep careened down in front of the giant rolling stone, tipping them into its path, then diving under-neath. There was enough little boy in Todd to respond to the magic of Disney in spite of himself. When they finished that ride, Morgan asked Todd and Dana’s two sons if they’d had enough.
No, it was back to Splash Mountain, Morgan trailing behind. Bringing the other kids had been a good move. It avoided awkwardness and made it more fun for Todd. What adolescent wouldn’t rather have friends along than a thirty-three-year-old man? There had been a few nice moments, and Morgan wondered if Todd was trying to make up for his rudeness.
Morgan boarded the Splash Mountain raft, this time riding with Luke, with Todd and Matt sitting together. He was a little surprised Todd had gravitated so easily to the neighbor boys. He’d have guessed at a prickly personality that made friendship difficult. Maybe it was a vacation syndrome, a nonthreatening, convenient friendship. Maybe it was Luke’s and Matt’s congenial natures.
They had eaten hours ago and the park would close soon. But the boys were wound up and going strong. It would be hard to match it tomorrow. Maybe Todd would welcome a low-key day after this one. Wishful thinking.
Not until the rides had closed did they join the streams of die-hards leaving the park. Definitely a successful day. They had taken the SUV to comfortably seat the four of them. He drove home, guarding his smiles as the boys talked about the rides and events of the day, picked at each other for being scared of silly things like the Pirates of the Caribbean or the hippos in the jungle ride. Todd seemed quieter now than the other two. Morgan pulled into the neighbors’ driveway and let them out.
Their dad, Mark, opened the front door. As Matt and Luke filed inside, he called, “Thanks for taking the boys. They behave?”
“Better than I would have.” Although he had been taught courtesy and generally used it, a day at Disneyland with two buddies and a nonparental sort …
“Good.” Mark smiled, obviously expecting that answer. What if he’d said they were holy terrors?
Morgan waved a hand and pulled across the street with Todd, the quiet of the night closing around them. “Think you’ll sleep tonight?”
Todd shrugged. “I see roller-coaster tracks every time I close my eyes.”
Morgan caught his shoulder in a companionable grip. “Did you have a good time?”
Todd nodded, then glanced sideways. “Thanks.”
Morgan fought not to show his surprise. It was the first time the kid had thanked him for anything—not the movies they’d seen, the things he’d bought, the places they’d gone. Maybe Disneyland was finally big enough. Or the other boys’ manners had worn off. “You’re welcome.”
As he let them into the house, Consuela met them with two messages, though she had normally retired by then. Both were Stan, and Morgan directed Todd to return the call, though it would be late in Colorado. He should have told him what they’d planned and maybe he would have let one night pass without the checkin.
Consuela laid a hand on his arm. “You survived it?”
He smiled at Consuela’s choice of words. “I did.”
She signed herself with the cross. “Better you on those rides than me.”
He cocked his head. “Aw, they’re harmless. It was keeping up with three teens that has me weary.”
“And your stomach?”
Morgan pressed a hand to his flat torso. “Fine.” It had handled lunch and dinner and all the rides without complaint. “I’m making headway.”
“Good.” She shuffled off to bed.
It was the perfect time for a slow-sipping whiskey on his deck. But he’d promised Todd, and as the kid came back from making his call, there was a light in his eyes Morgan wouldn’t dim.
“Did you tell him about it?”
Todd shrugged. “Kinda.”
It couldn’t have been the long version. “Did you wake him?”
“No. He was waiting up.”
Morgan jerked the side of his mouth. “We should have thought of that. It’s an hour later in Colorado.”
Todd shrugged again. “His choice.”
Morgan ruffled Todd’s hair. “Better get some sleep.”
“What are we doing tomorrow?”
Recovering
. “What would you like to do?”
Todd grinned. “Take your boat out.”
Morgan considered that. “Sure. If you think you can handle it.”
He touched his fist playfully to Todd’s jaw, but the kid shied and scowled. Morgan withdrew his hand, fingers splayed in surrender. “Let’s get to bed.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Well, I am.” He was tired of second-guessing every motion, every word.
“I’ll watch a movie.”
Morgan considered his collection. He wouldn’t have thought twice before Dana’s comment. Now he wondered how positive most of the choices would be for a thirteen-year-old kid. “Not tonight, Todd.”
Todd’s expression darkened, the brows lowering over glaring eyes. “Why do you want me in bed so bad?”
“Because it’s late, and I’m tired.”
Don’t spoil what we’ve had
.
“So go to bed yourself and leave me alone.”
Morgan ticked off in his mind the minutes since they’d come home. Exactly when had the amenable Todd disappeared? When he threw his play punch? How was he to know that would freak the kid out? Was this some power play now?
“If you want to take the boat out, we should get a good night’s sleep.”
“You won’t sleep. You just want me out of the way so you can get drunk.”
Fury surged. “I told you I wouldn’t drink while you’re here.”
“Yeah? So what?”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Morgan forced an even tone.
“You’ll say anything.”
Morgan cocked his jaw. “Go to bed, Todd.”
Todd’s hands fisted as he stormed up the stairs. That kid could drive anyone to drink. Maybe there were two sides to his dad’s story. Morgan ran a hand through his hair. He’d spent the whole day playing Disney tour guide, and this was what he got? It was his house, his life. He wished he hadn’t told Todd he wouldn’t drink.
But he had. And if he took a drink now, he would be a liar. Oh, wouldn’t the kid be smug then? Well, he’d done his time. He could call tomorrow and arrange an early flight back. If Todd wasn’t grateful or even appreciative, that was his problem. Morgan took the stairs equally stormily. He was tired, but after he’d stripped and groomed for bed, he paced his room, frustrated.
He had not been so personally scrutinized since leaving home. And it was wearing thin. If Todd would quit projecting … but maybe the kid couldn’t help it. Morgan opened his door and listened. Nothing. He crossed the hall, put his ear to Todd’s door. What was that? Not normal breathing. Crying? He tapped the door, opened it, and leaned in. “Don’t throw anything.”
Todd sniffed. “Go away.” He was huddled in the corner of the room, gripped in his own arms.
Morgan walked in, halted some five feet from him. “What’s up?”
Todd didn’t answer.
“Is it me?”
Todd shook his head.
“Are you homesick?”
The kid swore.
“I thought we were friends.”
Todd swiped his hand under his nose and gasped a jagged breath. “Leave me alone.”
“I don’t think you want me to.”
Todd didn’t answer.
“Todd, tell me what’s wrong.”
“Just stuff.”
Morgan sat down. “Your dad?” He anticipated blows.
But Todd nodded, sniffed his running nose. “One time he took me to a carnival. I was excited, but he brought a bottle. He puked on the second ride and hit me for watching. It made my nose bleed, and I got scared and ran away through the booths. He just kept bellowing, and I knew if he found me he’d beat me up.” Todd swiped his face again.
Morgan tried not to picture the scene, but it was all too vivid.
“I didn’t know where to go. The carnival was closing, and all these guys that looked … bad teeth and stuff, were watching me. I thought I could just hide in a ride or something. But when I tried to get on the carousel, Dad caught me. He slapped me so hard I wet my pants.”
Morgan’s chest constricted. Was that what Todd saw in him? It chilled him down the spine. He reached out and gripped Todd’s forearm. “You’re out of that now. Stan won’t hurt you, and neither would I.”
Todd leaned into the wall. “Stan doesn’t drink.”
Morgan squeezed his arm and let go. “You can go back tomorrow.”
“I don’t want to.” Todd looked up sideways.
Morgan spread his hands. “I don’t know what else to tell you. You either trust me or you don’t.”
Todd rested his head against the wall. “The stupid thing is, I loved him.”
“It wouldn’t hurt if you didn’t.”
Todd put his elbow across his knees and buried his face. Morgan moved closer to hold his shoulder while he cried. And Todd’s dad had probably loved him, until he’d messed himself up so much he couldn’t. Morgan fought a wave of disgust.
“You don’t even see it.”
How much didn’t he see? At that moment, Todd was a mirror, and Morgan couldn’t help but look.
T
he next day was perfect to be on the water. They’d lubed on sunscreen, filled a cooler with watermelon, chips, and turkey sandwiches, and hit the waves. Now they floated, engine silent, Morgan’s arms tucked behind his head, ankles crossed. Looking side-ways at the boy sprawled on the cushioned seat, he felt a fresh stirring of affection.
He’d been surprised Todd wanted to go out alone without the neighbor kids. But he was glad. Last night seemed to have opened a door, and as the honesty poured out, he hoped it would transfer to Stan as well.
“Do you fish?”
Morgan shook his head. “Nah. But I like seafood.”
“Why don’t you want to catch it?”
“Most of the fishing done around here is sport fishing. I can’t see battling some creature to the limits of both our strengths just to say I won.”
“You could stuff it and stick it on your wall.” Todd picked a scratch on his leg. “My dad had lots of stuff on his walls.”
“He hunted?” Every mention of his dad was worth drawing out.
Todd nodded. “He took me once before Mom left, stuck me in a tree. I watched him shoot a deer.”
That was the first mention of his mother. “What did you think of that?”
Todd shrugged. “He was excited cuz it had four points. But it was all bloody when he cut it up.”
“Did you eat it?”
“No. He just took the head and had it stuffed.”
Morgan took the chance and pushed a little. “When did your mom leave?”
“Five years ago. I was eight.” He pulled up his knees in what Morgan now recognized as a defensive posture.
“Why’d she go?”
He shrugged.
“Your parents had problems?”
Todd slanted him a glance. “Duh.”
Morgan smiled. “Do you talk to her?”
Todd shook his head. “She never even called.”
There had to be something intrinsically wrong with that picture. What mother could walk away from her own kid? Then his throat constricted. Jill had. She’d birthed their child, then handed her over to strangers. Here you go—special delivery. He stopped that train of thought and nudged Todd with his toes. “You want to drive?”
“What?”
“Take her closer in and bang some waves?”
Todd looked out at the water. “I dunno.”
“You can do it.” Morgan stood and led him to the helm. He started the boat and showed Todd how to bring it around the direction he wanted to go. Todd would enjoy this, even if he didn’t think so at the moment. He just needed encouragement.
He had guessed right. By the time they headed home, he was a tired but happy kid. Now if they could avoid his evening transformation to Spanish Inquisitor, it would be the best day yet.
Jill buttoned the short-sleeved pink cardigan to the circular neck. With the cream-colored loose capris, it was casual but stylish in an understated way her parents would approve—in spite of the sassy haircut that they would not. She had asked to come over for a bit and chat, but Mom had suggested dinner, of course, taking any overture as a chance for overkill. Jill only hoped they wouldn’t have lost their appetites by the time she was finished telling them about Kelsey—and worse, Morgan’s involvement.
She drove to her parents’ modest home, neatly manicured lawn, a few shrubs and flowering pots, a sprinkler in one corner sending a thin oscillating fountain that made her think of the Bellagio. Her skin warmed. How on earth would she get through this? Dad must have a new car. She passed the navy Chevrolet sedan in the driveway. He’d even changed allegiance from Dodge.
She knocked on the door and waited for admittance. Mom arrived all smiles, then eyed her hair. “Oh, Jill. You cut your hair off.”
“Only some of it.”
“It’s so …”
Fashionable. Daring. Attractive. Fun
.
“Short.” Mom pushed the door open. “But it’ll grow.”
She had just had Crystal trim it up. But Mom’s hair was neatly swept back into a stylish twist, as it had been from Jill’s earliest memories. “So Dad finally bought a Chevy?”
Mom looked perplexed. “What, dear?”
“The new car.” Jill motioned behind her toward the driveway.
“Oh. That’s not ours.”
Prickles crawled up her back.
“Come on through. I’ll introduce you to Glen.”
Jill stopped and hissed, “Mom, you didn’t.”
“Well, when you said you wanted to come, I thought you meant …”
