Mixed Blessings

When they reached the bathroom and Ricky fumbled to pull down his elastic-waisted jeans, Peter braced himself against the marble pullman. “I don’t want to believe it.” In a sickened hush he added, “But I think I do.”

His words only confirmed her worst fears. The days of praying and nights of sleeplessness all came down to this. Marie wanted to turn back the clock and return to the days when she innocently mothered the child she’d always thought was hers. As she soaped Ricky’s hands over the sink, she felt his slippery hand slide away from hers and knew it was symbolic. It took every last shred of her self-control to keep from weeping.

Peter stared at Ricky. His eyes held a dazed cast. “I hoped you were mistaken. We’d do tests—you know—and realize you’d just been…wrong. This nightmare is real. You have my s—”

“Daddy?” a high voice piped out in the hallway. “Lookie! I gots a—” As soon as the toddler discovered strangers, he halted midsentence and clutched his father’s slacks for security.

Transfixed, Marie stood still and stared at the boy. His corn-silk hair matched hers, as did his dimples. He had her small, straight nose and gently rounded chin, but he also carried some of Jack’s traits. She folded her wet hands to her chest to still the thundering in her heart. His name whispered between her lips.

Peter immediately grabbed the boy by the shoulder and turned him to divert his attention. “Hey, sport! I found someone to be your friend. Let’s go to the playroom.” He scooped up the child before Marie could even reach out for him. Peter threw a towel at Marie, grabbed Ricky, and headed down the hall.

“Wait!” She hurriedly dried her hands and chased after him. The man had an impossibly long stride. She kept her eyes on them—the boy who matched his red hair, and the boy who matched her blond. A jumble of emotions muddled her brain.

She hurriedly caught up with him at the doorway to a playroom. Sunlight streamed through gleaming windows, illuminating the bold primary colors of the simple furniture and toy shelves. Every imaginable thing a child might dream to possess filled the place. A very young woman in overalls carefully stacked blocks back into a red plastic bin and gave the boys a warm smile. Mrs. Hallock?

“Anne, we have guests,” Peter said in a friendly tone that still carried authority. “Please ask Mrs. Lithmas to bring lunch here for the four of us. You may have the rest of the day off. Have her call Paulette to cancel my twelve o’clock, too.”

“Yes, sir.” The nanny nodded and left.

Marie glanced around, then asked, “Is your wife home?”

“I’m widowed, too.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her heart twisted. How long had little Luke lacked a mommy’s love?

Peter put both of the boys down, then held Marie back. “Please let them have time together. Don’t rush Luke. He’s shy, and you don’t want to scare him. He’s been taught not to go near strangers.”

Marie shot him a pained look.

Peter gently squeezed her arm and urged, “Give him time. It’ll be worth it—I promise.” He frowned a few minutes later. He and she still stood side by side in tense silence while the boys played with toys and ignored one another. “Why won’t they play together?”

Kneeling on the floor, Marie stated softly, “I work in a day care, so I see this all of the time. Kids this age do what’s called parallel play. They play alongside of one another and sense companionship, but they don’t necessarily interact. In a while, they will.” She turned back to Ricky and laughed as he worked the jack-in-the-box.

Luke let out an unholy screech and grabbed for the toy. “Mine!”

“Share!” Ricky yelled back.

“Let’s take turns,” Marie intervened. “Ricky, it’s Luke’s turn next.” She slowly reached out to the son she’d never held. Her heart almost beat out of her chest as he stared at her with wide blue eyes. He turned his gaze toward his father and received a nod of approval. Very tentatively, he drew closer.

Lord, he’s all I have left of Jack. You already instilled a mother’s love for him in my heart. Please, Father, stir the love of a son in his heart for me.

Marie wanted to grab him and hold him close, but she knew she’d spoil everything if she did. Summoning control she didn’t know she possessed, she gently hitched the children by their waists and held one on each knee. In her softest voice she prompted, “Okay, Luke, show me how to do it.”

She wanted to squeeze him silly. She wanted to cover his dear little face with kisses and vent the laughter and tears that warred within her breast. She couldn’t do any of that—not here, not now. She felt Peter watching how she handled both boys. Glancing at him, she cocked a brow as if to ask what he thought.

“He doesn’t usually take kindly to strangers. He kicks up a royal fuss.”

“Really?”

Marie remained motionless as Luke curiously raised a finger to trace her dimple, then she took his finger and guided him to touch one of his own. Afterward, she took that finger and drew it toward her face. Suddenly, she turned her head and gobbled up his arm and neck. He dissolved into gales of laughter.

“Me, too!” Ricky demanded, and she pulled him right into the fun.

To Marie’s amazement, Peter Hallock forced out a lion’s roar. He disregarded his beautifully tailored, visibly expensive suit and pounced from the sofa. Both boys shrieked, and Peter grabbed Luke. He tossed him in the air, caught him amidst squeals of joy, and then did the same to Ricky. He lay on the floor and wrestled gently with the boys. They piled all over him, wiggled and kicked and screeched. Marie giggled, but her mirth came to a quick halt as Luke pressed a sloppy peck on his father’s cheek.

Marie went stark still. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks, and her stomach plunged to the hardwood floor.

Peter stopped chortling, sat up and leaned closer. “Marie?”

Fearing she was going to be sick, she dipped her head and rasped, “Give me a minute.”

“Marie, I know this is hard. Take a few deep breaths.” He knelt directly in front of her and cupped both of her shoulders, as if to brace her. “That’s right. Take your time.”

A few minutes passed, and Marie earned an approving nod from him. “There. Much better,” he said softly. She struggled to contain her feelings. Countless emotions flickered across his features. He cradled her cheek in one hand, and the other slid off to feather her hair back from her temple. “Marie, I know this is hard, but I don’t understand what happened. You were okay one minute, and then…what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? That’s my baby! He’s mine and he doesn’t even know me. He calls you Daddy. He’s never even kissed me.” Her trembling whisper finally cracked and she said, “He should have played with Jack.”

“You’re right.” The agreement whispered between them.

“He looks like Jack, too. Through the eyes. And the shape of his lips. The right arch of his lip is just a shade higher.” She drew in an aching breath. “Jack would have been so proud.”

Peter’s eyes glowed with love. For all the horror of the moment one thing came across very clearly—he cherished his son. “Luke is a very special child, Marie. Of course Jack would have been proud. I’m sure he was proud of Ricky, too.”

“Oh, he adored him! He had father-son portraits taken just the week before…the week before…”

“I understand,” he said, saving her from saying the words she found so difficult. “I’d like copies of those pictures, Marie. I’ll duplicate my favorite pictures of Luke for you, too. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Peter gave her a bolstering smile when she nodded.

“Mommy, I’m hungreeee!” Ricky stood next to Peter and gave her an accusing look.

“Yeah, tiger,” Peter chuckled, “I’ll bet you’re always hungry. A lady is going to bring us lunch in a minute.”

Gathering her wits, Marie tugged her rumpled dress down a few inches to her knees. “That’s not necessary.”

“But it would be nice.” Peter slipped his arm around Ricky’s hips and gave him a possessive squeeze. “I want you to stay. We ought to all get to know one another.”

“After lunch, we’ll need to leave. Ricky can nap in the car, but I have a fair drive home.”

“Where do you live?”

“Orange County.”

His jaw dropped, then his brows knit in vexation. “That’s over two hundred fifty miles away!”

Marie rubbed her forehead back and forth in line with the furrows. “I know. I said the same thing when I found out where you live. I’d hoped you lived much closer to the hospital. It’s halfway between us.”

“Why were you so far from home for delivery?”

“We lived in Melway at the time. Jack got a position down in Orange County, so we moved soon after I had Ricky.”

“I see,” he said tightly. “Where were you staying?”

“Staying?”

“Last night. Where did you spend last night?”

Marie gave him a puzzled look. “We were at home.”

Raking his hand through his hair, he scowled. “You drove all of the way up here this morning and plan to turn back around and go home again? That’s a ten-hour round-trip!”

“I have commitments.”

“What could possibly be more important than getting to know our sons?”

Marie took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and remembered how shocked and angry she’d been when she discovered the awful truth. Peter Hallock probably felt just as appalled.

“At least stay for the weekend.”

The lump in her throat worsened. The anguish in his eyes nearly took her breath away. She empathized. From the moment she’d discovered her son was elsewhere, she’d hungered to hold him. Peter Hallock clearly felt that same longing to be with his son. Her son. She said very quietly, “I can’t stay.”

“You can’t mean to dash off!”

Marie pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and extended her hand. “I’ve written my address and phone number down for you. Here. You can reach me anytime. My business number is there, too.”

Peter took the paper and barely glanced at it before slipping it into the pocket of his slacks. “Stay for lunch. We’ll come up with plans. We have to do something. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Ricky and I will have lunch with you and Luke.” She looked at her son—her biological son—and whispered, “I didn’t know it was going to be this hard.”

The housekeeper’s arrival cut short Peter’s response. The aproned woman pushed in an elegant, inlaid wood tea cart laden with four china plates and beverages. She proceeded to set the small trestle table over by the window with linen napkins. Marie thought she must be hallucinating. It looked like someone had clipped this scene straight from a soap opera. She glanced at Peter and Luke. Neither of them paid any attention to the housekeeper.

Marie gulped. A very ordinary woman who lived an average middle-class life, she knew she was in way over her head.

Peter nudged Luke toward the table, then plucked Ricky out of Marie’s arms. “We’ll have to get you a booster seat just like Luke’s. Today, you’ll sit on my lap.”

Marie hesitantly took the seat Peter pulled out for her, then looked at Ricky. He’d curled his fingers around Peter’s collar and grinned up at him, so she couldn’t very well protest, even though her heart twisted at the sight of them together. You knew you’d have to learn to share him. She daintily settled her napkin in her lap, then reached over to take Ricky’s outstretched hand. She cast a wary look at Peter.

He took Luke’s hand. “Do you normally say grace, too?”

She nodded. Too. That one word relaxed her a bit. At least they held some common ground. Building bridges between their families would be easier if they shared a foundation of faith.

Luke and Ricky singsonged, “God is great, God is good…” in a sweet duet, and Peter’s voice quickly blended with them. Marie finally caught up and added, “Amen!”

Peter’s intense stare made Marie shift in her seat. “What?”

“If you’re upset about missing church, you can attend ours.”

She broke eye contact and picked up her sandwich. “I’m so confused.” She put down the sandwich without taking a bite. “I’m torn between needing to stay and needing to go.”

“Staying is only right. There’s no question. You can’t tease me with one short hour of being with my—” he paused and shot a quick look at Luke, then back at Ricky. His voice vibrated with restrained emotion “—With my flesh and blood, then snatch him away!”

Despair flooded her. “I care for my sister. She was injured in an accident.”

He frowned. Marie wasn’t sure whether it was from vexation that she didn’t accede to his wishes at once or concern for Sandy. “How is she managing without you today?”

“She’s at the rehab facility. One of our church family is picking her up. He’ll keep her company at home until I get there.”

“Surely he can watch her overnight.”

Marie winced. “The gentleman involved isn’t exactly versed in giving her the particular type of care she’ll require.”

“That’s not a problem. We’ll call and arrange for a private nurse to stay with her tonight. You can’t leave.”

“Mr. Hallock,” she paused and watched as Peter playfully stuck an olive on Ricky’s thumb. Both of their faces lit with glee. Cuddling Ricky closer, Peter grabbed another olive and did the same to Luke. All three of them laughed. If it’s so cute, why do I want to cry?

Peter looked at her and raised his brows. “What were you going to say?”

“I know I said it before,” she whispered, “but this is even harder than I thought it was going to be.”

His smile faded. “We have to work together, Marie…for their sakes.”

“I know.”

He shook his head. “It’s so hard to believe. We’ve got a lot to do.” He accepted a carrot from Ricky. “First off, I—”

“I think,” she interrupted, “we’d be wise to not make any immediate decisions. It’s going to be complicated. Can’t we please have today to just share our sons?”

“That would be easier if you’d change your plan to flit out of here.”

She tried to calm down with a sip of iced tea, but it didn’t help. Her hand shook as she set the crystal goblet back down on the table. “Mr. Hallock—”

“Peter. It seems crazy to be formal when we’re going to be sharing kids.”

Marie dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Peter, I learned about this a week ago. The first day, I was in shock. You’re that way now. I’m falling apart, and you’re acting like nothing is wrong. In a day or two, the reality will hit you full force.”

“So you’re dropping a bomb, listening to it tick for a few minutes, then running before it detonates?”

She granted him a wobbly smile. His words were clever, but the reality hurt too much. Her eyes burned and her nose tingled with suppressed tears.

“Hey,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. That joke was in poor taste. I think you were incredibly brave to come here. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“I admit, I’m frazzled. I prayed all of the way here, but my focus was on the boys.” She shrugged. “I’m not ready to think about all of the consequences or plot a future course.”

“Okay. We’ll just concentrate on the guys today.”

Marie didn’t eat much. Her nerves were strung too tight. Nothing seemed to fit past the big ball in her throat. By the end of lunch, Luke started rubbing his eyes. Marie looked at Peter. “Would you mind if I tucked him in for his nap?”

He rubbed his chin on Ricky’s crown. “How ’bout if we let Ricky nap a while, too?”

“He naps well in his car seat. It might be easier if we slip out while they’re sleepy. If you’re free next weekend, why don’t you and Luke come for a visit?”

“Nothing is more important than this, Marie. We have to make a pact that the boys come first. I’ll clear my calendar and jump through whatever hoops I have to.”

Peter sat on the couch and held Ricky while Marie tucked in Luke by herself. Those few moments she spent alone with Jack’s little son were bittersweet. Even after he’d fallen asleep, she held him close to her heart. Finally, she whispered a prayer over him, slipped him onto his bed and covered him with a satin-edged baby blanket. One kiss wasn’t enough. The second and third were just as precious.

She knew she had to leave. It felt like a giant was reaching in and tearing her heart from her breast. Each step she took from his room and down the hall took monumental effort.

Peter rose from the couch as she reentered the playroom. Ricky lay in his arms like a boneless cat. He’d fallen asleep, just like Luke. “I’ll carry him out for you.”

She blinked back tears and reached out. “My arms feel too empty. Please—” To her relief, Peter relinquished Ricky.

Peter’s face was pale and taut. Marie suspected his composure was starting to crack. Part of her wanted to stay so he wouldn’t have to bear the anguish alone, but she had no emotional reserves and couldn’t do anything to lessen the impact of this disaster. Left alone, he’d at least keep his dignity.

She made it to the front door, but Peter pressed a hand to the oak panel, blocking her exit. “Marie—”

“Peter, you have to let us go.”

His troubled gaze held her captive. “For now—but things are far from resolved.”

Marie nodded. Ricky stirred and lifted his head. Marie shrank as Peter completely closed the few inches between them. Back pressed against the wall, she gulped and her eyes widened. Then his head dipped.

“Bye-bye, tiger. You’re a wonderful boy. I was so happy to meet you. I’ll see you again, soon.” He spoke the words very softly, very tenderly, before he kissed Ricky’s cheek and rumpled his hair. Genuine affection glowed in his eyes.

His sweetness to her son meant the world—until he whispered to her, “You take good care of him until I can.”

Chapter Three

The phone rang as Marie crossed the threshold. Too tired to care, Marie let go of Ricky’s hand and smiled wearily at her sister. “I don’t know how people commute long distances to work.”

Sandy gave her a sympathetic look, then glanced at the still-jangling phone and made a wry face. “You’d better answer that. Some guy named Peter has been calling every fifteen minutes for the last two hours. He’s frantic.”

“Great.” Marie rubbed her aching back as she headed for the phone. “Hello?”

“Marie! It’s eight forty-seven! You’ve been driving long past dark. What took you so long? Was there a problem?”

Her purse strap slid down from her shoulder, and Marie let her bag drop onto the battered, white kitchen counter with a muffled thump. Shoving her hair back from her forehead, she sighed, “We’re fine.”

“What took you so long?”

Peter’s voice sounded ragged with concern, but Marie didn’t want to think about him or his feelings at the moment. His parting words kept echoing in her head. You take good care of him until I can. All the way home, she’d worried that Peter meant to try to take Ricky away. She’d been so absorbed, she’d failed to look at the gauges and run out of gas.

“I said, we’re fine.”

“Thank heavens! Marie, your car is leaking oil. I saw a pool of fresh oil right where you were parked. I worried you broke down or something.”

“We made it home in one piece.”

“Good!” His sigh of relief flowed over the line.

Marie cleared her throat. “When I stopped to get gas, my license and cards were in the wrong places in my wallet.”

The line went silent.

“Mr. Hallock? I believe an answer is in order.” She could hear his steps as he paced back and forth on a hard surface someplace. The silence told her he was considering several possible explanations. That fact irked her. She wanted the truth.

“While you were in my house,” he said in a well-modulated tone, “the security officer did a search of the car and your purse. He copied your identification and put it back.”

I wanted him to be honest—but I also hoped he’d be honorable. Fatigue gave way to anger. “I’m so mad, I could spit nails! How dare you do such a thing!”

He made an impatient sound. “I didn’t have a choice! You have my son!”

“How am I supposed to respond to that?” She glanced behind herself to be sure Ricky wasn’t in the room. Taking care to lower her voice, she hissed, “Am I expected to scream that Ricky is mine, or do you want me to lay claim to Luke?”

Another silence ensued. Peter finally admitted, “That didn’t come out right. You were wise to leave. I’m starting to go nuts already, and I really don’t want anyone seeing me when I feel this out of control. I’m glad you got home safely. Good night, Marie.”

“Good night, Peter.” Marie hung up the phone.

“Oh, sis! It sounds bad.” Sandy’s eyes held consolation as she maneuvered her wheelchair closer. When her chair came to a halt, she pushed her headband back to restrain a fall of sun-bleached blond hair.

“I’ve opened Pandora’s box.”

“I told you to get a lawyer or a private investigator. You could have at least let one of the guys on the force run a sheet on Peter Hallock.”

Marie compressed her lips and tried to ignore the storm of emotions raging inside her. She hadn’t wanted to get anyone else involved. She didn’t have money to hire professional help, and it felt creepy to ask one of Jack’s old buddies to pull strings. Any number of them would have done so in a heartbeat. Now she wished she would have.

“What’s he—your real, biological son—like?”

Marie flopped down on her brown tweed couch. She gave Ricky a vague smile as he came out of the bathroom. “Go get your jammies, Rick. It’s bedtime.”

“So?” Sandy prompted as Ricky disappeared into his room.

“He’s beautiful, Sandy. Beautiful. His eyes are blue, but they’re shaped just like Jack’s. His mouth is, too. He looks like a cherub. He’s a few inches shorter than Ricky, but maybe a bit stockier.”

“What did they name him?”

“Luke.” She closed her eyes. “My day was a disaster. How was yours?”

“Rehab went well. They’re pushing me to join an independent living group. Do you think I’m ready?”

“I think you will be soon.” Marie accepted the race-car-printed flannel pajamas she’d made and helped Ricky into them. Ordinarily, he’d try to change all on his own, but after a long, trying day, he’d come out to seek her help and reassurance. She gave him an extra hug after she buttoned his shirt.

While Ricky stayed in the living room with them, she and Sandy took care to discuss Sandy’s future instead of the catastrophic events of the past week. Marie wanted to shield her son from as much of the ordeal as she could until the adults all managed to iron out the issues. She’d never imagined her sweet little tyke would be in the line of fire as he’d been today. The memory left her shaken—and more than willing to distract herself with the exciting prospects opening up for Sandy.

“My physical therapist said I’ve stabilized,” Sandy said as she whizzed in and out of the kitchen. She brought a pair of Red Delicious apples.

“You’ve worked hard,” Marie praised. “I’m really impressed by how much you can do.”

They discussed the merits of such a plan as they shared the apples with Ricky for a bedtime snack. Marie tucked him into his bed. He mumbled a nighttime prayer and fell asleep at once.

The minute Marie came back into the living room, Sandy demanded, “Okay. Now that he’s in bed, give me the scoop.”

“I’m in big trouble.” Marie sank onto the couch, stared straight ahead at the brick fireplace and sighed. “Peter Hallock is rattled. From what I gather, he’s an administrator at a hospital—powerful. Rich, too.” She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “To top it off, he’s possessive. When I left, he told me to take good care of Ricky until he can.”

Sandy’s jaw dropped. “You have to be kidding me!”

“Nope.” Marie wearily propped her feet up on the coffee table.

“He’s nuts! What did you do?”

“I got out of there as fast as I could.”

“So he’s going to be ugly?”

“I can’t say. It wouldn’t be fair to judge that yet. Sandy, I’m just sick about it all. I know he is, too.”