Another Love, page 17
“Maybe we treat you like a child because you act like one. Actually, you are still a child, princess.”
“Whatever.” Shana fixed her petulant gaze on some point on the other side of the pool.
Greg had to remind himself this child was the daughter he’d walked away from when he left her mother. “We need to discuss your manners, young lady,” he said in the tone of voice that got nurses and interns cracking to follow his orders.
“My manners are just fine. Mother’s made sure I know which fork to pick up and what to wear. Has little Sandy been whining again?”
Greg itched to drag her off that lounge chair and shake her until she begged for mercy. Damn it to hell, if Shana could get down and dirty, so could he. Clenching his fists to keep from smacking her, he riddled her with the dirtiest look he could come up with.
“We’re not talking about my fiancée, we’re talking about you. And from what I’ve seen in the week you’ve been with me, I’d say your mother has sadly neglected your education in basic human relations. She may let you get away with being rude and snide, Shana, but I’ve got news for you. I won’t.”
Shana tossed her head like a young, frisky filly. “Whatever.”
“Remove that disgusting expression from your vocabulary.” Sandy was right; his daughter could be impossible.
She sat up straight and stared him down. “Whatever,” she repeated, and Greg sprang to his feet.
“You’re grounded for a month,” he shouted, feeling his blood pressure soar. “Forget riding lessons. Forget seeing your friends outside of school. And don’t even think about going shopping. If you’re lucky, I’ll let you out of your room long enough to apologize to Sandy for the way you’ve been treating her.”
“And what makes you think I will? I don’t like her. All my friends think you must be a dirty old man, marrying a shiksa who’s young enough to be your kid. You’re both disgusting.” She drew out that last word, emphasizing every syllable.
“That sounds like your mother talking, Shana. And it’s a damn stupid statement, to boot. I’d have had to be pretty precocious to have fathered a baby when I was fourteen.” When Greg realized how childish it was to take his own child’s bait, he abandoned the sarcasm. “Besides, it’s not your business.”
“Whatever. Nothing’s my business. But it screws up my life just the same. Mother didn’t ask me before she decided to marry Pop Abe, who’s got grandchildren older than me. You don’t care that I can’t stand Sandy. Do you have any idea how humiliating it is to admit I’m going to have a stepfather as old as Grandma Sadie and a stepmother that’s not much older than me?”
That hurt, because at least the first of Shana’s impassioned statements was true. He hadn’t considered his daughter’s feelings about his engagement to Sandy, any more than he’d consulted her several years ago before marrying Rhea. And he knew damn well Kay’s only thoughts when she decided to become Mrs. Abe Goldman were of herself. Kay was that way.
Humiliating? Now that was a bit extreme. “There’s nothing for you to be upset about, Shana. It’s natural for men and women to want to share their lives with someone else. You know, honey, differences in age get less important when we get older. I love Sandy, and I’m sure your mother feels the same about Pop Abe. But we both love you.”
Shana turned on him like a riled-up wildcat. He grabbed her wrists to keep her from pummeling his chest with furious fists. “Sure you do,” she snarled. “Mother cares so much, she left to cruise around the world with him. And the only reason I’m here instead of stuck in some geeky boarding school is because she bribed you to take me!”
“What?”
“Don’t try and say she didn’t. Mother told me she let you out of supporting us to make you take care of me while she and Abe play kissy-face on some stupid world tour.”
Greg wished Kay were around so he could strangle her. “I wanted you with me,” The tears that hung in his little girl’s dark eyes damn near killed him. He’d give anything to take away the pain she hid under her brittle, sullen exterior.
“Sandy wants you, too.” That was true. At least it had been, at first.
“You wanted to quit giving us money so you could afford to marry her. Mother said so.”
Greg reached out and stroked Shana’s damp, flushed cheek. What could he do or say that would sweep away the bitterness Kay had instilled in his only child? “There’s a lot of animosity between your mom and me,” he said when she didn’t immediately pull away. “That doesn’t mean we don’t both love you.”
Shana shook her head and backed away. “You mean you didn’t want the money?”
“The only thing I wanted was to be able to make a home for myself, and for you.” Reading the disbelief in Shana’s gaze, he went on. “To do that, I had to ask your mother to accept less alimony. She made that possible when she decided to get married again.”
Tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, Shana sat back down, looking up at him with those dark, mistrustful eyes. “Why did you and Mother ever have me? Why couldn’t I have parents like Marisa’s? They’re divorced, too, but they live just around the corner from each other. Her mom and stepfather even play cards once a week with her dad and stepmom. They’re cool.”
The swinging pathologists? He just bet they were playing cards when they got together. Greg closed his mouth before he burst his daughter’s bubble. It wouldn’t make Shana feel better to know Tom and Elaine and Mark and Cecilia had swapped off for years before making what hospital gossips insisted was a purely fanciful legal change of partners. Instead, he felt compelled to apologize for the way he and Kay had hurt Shana while attempting to injure each other.
“I’m sorry we’re not cool, as you say. Your mom and I tried, but I guess neither of us tried hard enough to keep on loving each other. Before I left, we’d said and done too many mean, bitter things. There was no way we’d ever be friends. But Shana, we’re both entitled to a little slice of happiness. My loving Sandy doesn’t take away any of the love I feel for you, and I’m sure your mom doesn’t love you less because she loves Mr. Goldman, too.”
Greg could tell Shana wasn’t buying into what he was saying. He watched the way her fingers tapped impatiently against the wicker arm of her chair. “He treated me just fine until he married Mother and they dumped me here with you.”
“They deserve a little time to themselves, don’t you think?”
“Six months?”
Privately, Greg thought Kay and her aging billionaire had gone overboard on their honeymoon plans, but it wouldn’t do for him to say so. “It isn’t really that long, when you think about it.”
“Whatever. Do I get to stay here with prune-faced old Mrs. Watson while you take a trip to Tahiti or something?” Shana asked, her voice dripping sarcasm.
“No. I can’t take that much time away from work. We’ll just be taking a long weekend out at Possum Kingdom. You will be staying with Nana Sadie. Look, Shana. We’ve gotten off track here. I’m sorry you feel so put upon, but we were discussing your behavior.”
“What do you want me to do? Lie and pretend I’m all happy because you’re going to get married again? I’ll never get to see you at all.”
Greg offered up silent thanks to God that he had decided against a specialty in child psychiatry. He’d never understand kids, if his own daughter was typical. “What makes you say that?”
“Sandy doesn’t like me any more than I like her. Once you’re married, she’ll make sure you don’t have any time at all for me. Rhea did, and she was sweet as sugar to me when you were dating.”
Greg thought he saw Shana’s lower lip tremble, but he wasn’t sure. “Rhea fooled me, too. You’re here now, and you’re staying until your mother gets home. We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, especially since you’re acting like such a brat that I’ll have to keep you on a tight leash.”
“Oh, Daddy, you won’t do that, will you?”
Now he had a feeling he was being conned. “I will, and there will be no wheedling your way out of your punishment.”
“A whole month?” Shana’s expression reflected horror along with a goodly dose of skepticism.
“Look, Shana. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll do this a week at the time. You apologize to Sandy and mean it. And you remember to treat her and everybody else you come in contact with respect and kindness. We’ll talk about parole next Sunday.”
Shana’s mouth dropped open. “You’re really going to marry her, aren’t you?”
“Come hell or high water, princess. Give Sandy a chance. She’s not your mom, but she’d like to be your friend.”
They talked for a few more minutes before going inside. That night as Greg tried to get some sleep, he hoped to hell he had gotten through to the little girl who looked like him, but inside seemed to be almost a carbon copy of Kay. At least he felt fairly confident that his daughter wouldn’t dare keep needling the woman he loved.
* * * * *
“How do you do it?” he asked Blake when they met the next morning to exercise the horses.
Blake hadn’t the vaguest idea what Greg was talking about. “What?”
“Make your stepson crazy about you.”
“My son. I’ve adopted Timmy. I guess he likes me because I like him and show it. He’s a fantastic little kid. I wish I had half his courage.” The cool, dry morning air was doing its job, and Blake was beginning to shake the cobwebs off his sluggish brain.
Greg sighed. “He is a brave little guy. How’s his therapy coming?”
“Erin and I have to meet with his doctor next Monday. From what Michelle tells me, she’s done about all she can do with physical therapy, until he goes through another operation.”
“Who’s his surgeon?”
Blake pulled up his mount and met Greg’s gaze. “A guy named Dan Newman. Do you know him?”
“Yeah. He’s good. Who’s he working with?”
“What do you mean?”
Greg shifted in his saddle. “Newman’s specialty is microsurgery on the peripheral nervous system. He’d get an orthopedic guy and maybe someone that does plastic and reconstructive surgery, too, to make up a surgery team for Timmy. I think. Sandy described what happened to him. Damn rotten shame!”
Erin hadn’t told him much. Not that he didn’t know, in his head, most of what his little boy had gone through before he and his mother became Blake’s responsibility. He’d talked with Michelle, and with Timmy himself. “Will Timmy be all right eventually?”
“I’m a women’s doctor, my friend,” Greg reminded Blake. “What’s more, I’ve never looked at Timmy’s legs from a medical standpoint, or studied his records. His therapist would know more than I about what your boy’s future holds.”
“I’m scared.” Most things Blake could control. But not that. All he could do was stand by and offer comfort while Timmy did all the suffering. “I don’t want him to hurt anymore” He’d give anything he had if he could only make his child whole and strong.
“No one does, my friend. You know, they say that kids make the best patients, because they forget the pain and get on with their lives. Maybe that’s true in the sense that they can cope better with physical discomfort than adults. But it damn sure is a pile of shit when it comes to psychological pain.”
“Erin’s done nothing but love Timmy.”
“I wasn’t thinking about your boy. My mind was on the emotional wreck Kay and I have managed to make of Shana.”
“Shana? She’s got more confidence in herself than most grown women I know.”
Greg shook his head. “She puts on a good show. But deep down, she’s a frightened little kid who doesn’t think she means much to either Kay or me.”
Blake doubted that “frightened” fit Shana Halpern nearly as well as “spiteful” and “spoiled rotten”—terms he recalled hearing Sandy use with every other breath last night to describe the behavior of her soon-to-be stepdaughter. But he hesitated saying that to Greg, no matter how good friends they were. “You and Sandy are going to have a time with her.”
“If Sandy doesn’t decide I’ve got too much baggage and call the whole thing off.”
“From what she told Erin, Sandy has no intention of letting you slither away. If I were you, though, I’d warn Miss Shana to be on her best behavior. Your fiancée has decided that no twelve-year-old’s a match for her.” Blake noted the relieved expression on Greg’s face as they walked the horses back to the stable.
After Greg left, Blake showered and headed to his office. Before he surrendered his little boy to more suffering that he couldn’t prevent, he wanted to do something really special, something Timmy would remember for years to come.
Between appointments that morning, Blake considered and discarded a dozen or more attractions he had heard friends say their children loved. Disney World…Six Flags…the Grand Canyon. Timmy wouldn’t be able to run and ride and do all the things that made these places fun.
Then it came to him. They’d go to Possum Kingdom, to his cabin on the lake where he hadn’t been for years. They could do as much or as little as they wanted to, and he and Erin could get to know each other while spending uninterrupted, quiet time with the boys.
“Erin?” he asked when he recognized her soft voice on the phone. “We’re going on a little trip. Can you and the boys be ready to leave early Thursday morning?”
Chapter Seventeen
Portable crib…stroller…disposable diapers…changes of clothes for three days and nights, vitamins, lotion and baby powder… and plenty of clean linens for Jamie’s bed. Erin wondered if all this stuff would fit in the trunk of Blake’s car. Then she grinned. She had nearly forgotten what a production it could be to prepare for a trip with children.
Blake loaded everything, even Timmy’s folded wheelchair, and they were on their way. Timmy and Jamie went to sleep in the backseat almost as soon as the car started moving, while Erin sipped her coffee and admired the confident, competent way Blake handled the big car in morning traffic.
She wanted to reach over and stroke his hard, muscled thigh through his faded jeans. The material looked soft, touchable, much more so than the suits he favored. Casual suited him. It was all Erin could do to keep her hands off broad shoulders encased in a soft, old Longhorns sweatshirt—and to drag her gaze away from his rugged, handsome profile.
“What kind of car do you want?” he asked as they passed a full-size sport utility vehicle full of preschoolers.
“Car? You have three of them already.” In addition to the Mercedes sedan Blake was driving, she’d seen a late-model pickup truck and an older station wagon in the garage behind the house. Miguel used the wagon to take her shopping and to the pediatrician’s office, and she guessed Blake kept the truck for hauling feed and lawn supplies. “Besides, I appreciate the thought, but I haven’t driven for a long time.”
“It’s not something one forgets.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“Are you afraid to drive?” Blake’s voice hinted at his apparent concern.
“I don’t think so. Not any more. For a while after the accident, even the idea of getting into a car put me into a cold sweat. But I got over that pretty quickly. If there had been any way, I’d have bought a car about the time I had to start taking Timmy to therapy almost every day.”
Blake didn’t reply for a few minutes as he concentrated on pulling off the interstate onto the state highway that went to Possum Kingdom. “You’ll need some wheels to get back and forth from the hospital.”
Erin could have done without the reminder about Timmy’s impending surgery, but she had to concede that Blake had a valid point. She couldn’t depend on him to take her everywhere. “Can’t I use the station wagon? It seems wasteful to buy another car when there’s a perfectly good one in your garage.”
“The wagon’s five years old. Besides, Mary needs something to go grocery shopping in. And the truck won’t do for you. It’s a stick shift, not to mention there’s no room to put the kids. Come on, Erin, most women would be thrilled to death at the prospect of getting a new car.” Blake’s his teasing tone made Erin smile.
“All right. Never let it be said that I wasn’t like most women.” Better to give in than to spoil the day with a meaningless argument.
As they drew farther from Dallas, Erin watched the scenery, mentally comparing fall in North-central Texas with the West Texas ranch where she and Sandy had grown up. Trees had been scarce there, with an occasional scrub oak, mesquite, or cactus punctuating an otherwise bare, dusty horizon.
Here, she reveled in a riot of color. Dark evergreens and deciduous trees whose leaves were turning shades of scarlet, gold and orange, nestled in valleys with reddish-looking rivers running through them. The colors repeated themselves in patches on the hillsides, contrasting with pale, golden beige sandstone and red earth. She could hardly wait to get to Possum Kingdom, where she could enjoy the beauty of the countryside up close.
“Pretty scenery, isn’t it?” Blake asked as he turned onto a secondary road and slowed down to maneuver around a poorly banked curve.
Erin nodded. “I’ve never been out here in the fall before.” She recalled her summer camping trip here with Bill the year before Timmy’s birth and wondering if Blake had brought Glenna to Possum Kingdom during the lazy days of Indian summer.
“Mommy?” Timmy sounded sleepy. “I think Jamie’s waking up.”
Twisting sideways in the bucket seat, Erin turned around to check on the boys. Jamie’s eyelids were twitching, an almost sure sign that his naptime was nearly over; and Timmy looked as uncomfortable as Erin knew he must be after an hour and a half of sleeping sitting up. “Blake, we’ll need to stop soon so I can feed Jamie.”
“Hang in there, boys,” he said, grinning. “The turnoff’s right up here.”
“You’re taking a shortcut?”
Blake shook his head. “The cabin is just a mile or so down this road. It’s on the southern end of the lake.”
