Mr. Good Enough, page 24
The process sounded long and involved, longer than pregnancy, but who was to say she’d get pregnant right away if she did go the traditional route for kids? Adoption could be the shorter path. The nobler path.
She felt a pang in her womb again. Could she do it? Could she deny her own potential flesh and blood a chance at a life so she could spend hers with a man who was afraid of his own genes? What if she could change his mind? Or what if there were other options? If Trent was willing to adopt, would he be willing to let Maddie get a sperm donor?
The shudder that racked her spinal cord told her it didn’t matter what Trent thought. She couldn’t do it.
But maybe she could still change his mind.
Her phone startled her. She reached over and smiled at her mom’s picture on the display. “Hey, Mom.”
“Hi, honey. You busy?”
Maddie peeked out her blinds. The sun was going down, but no Trent yet. “Nope. Just finishing up for the day.”
Her mom took an audible breath, and Maddie felt the first prickles of unease settle between her shoulders. “What’s up?” she asked, adding a silent prayer that it wasn’t more medical issues.
“I just had an interesting conversation with one of my patients,” her mom said slowly. “She’s a student at the high school, and she says she just signed up for MisterGoodEnough Junior.”
Maddie blinked at her monitor. “She what?” She slid up to the computer and pulled up Google. A minute later, she was staring at a Web site with way too many similarities to her own. “Who did this?”
“Not you, I take it?”
Maddie couldn’t decide whether she should be offended by the relief in her mom’s voice or not. She settled for resignation instead. She’d never been as good as her brothers, and never would be. Tough.
“Thanks for letting me know. I need to go call Gina.”
“Love you, sweetie.”
“Love you too.”
By the time Maddie got off the phone with Gina, she wanted to cry. The domain was privately registered and the IP was on a proxy server. Virtually untraceable. Until they registered and started a profile, they wouldn’t know how much of the site had been stolen from theirs. “I got this one, Mad,” Gina’d said. “Enjoy your evening. Let me know if he does anything stupid though.”
Maddie was shutting everything down in her office when she heard the knock at the door. She finished up quick, then opened the door for Trent. “Hey.”
He stepped inside, slung an arm around her waist, and kissed her until her eyes crossed. That definitely helped. When he eased back, he smiled down at her. “Hey yourself. You okay?”
She opened her mouth to let the easy I’m fine answer roll out, but she wasn’t, and it was too easy to rest her cheek on his soft, warm T-shirt and share her problems with him. “Somebody’s running a MisterGoodEnough Junior for the kids at the high school.”
His fingers brushed her nape. “Want me to beat ’em up?”
“Yes.” He smelled like soap and leather seats, and he felt solid enough to win any battle she asked him to fight. Not that she needed him to, but it was nice to have him in her corner if she wanted him to. “But I don’t want you getting in Gina’s way. No telling who’d win that one.”
She loved the way his laughter rumbled in his chest.
“Since Gina’s got it under control,” he said, “you hungry?”
She hadn’t been a few minutes ago. But he was right. Gina had this one. So was Maddie going to waste a night moping, or was she going to enjoy what she had?
“Uh-huh.” She fisted his shirt and pulled him into the house. Prickles of heat danced across her skin, and she found herself pushed back against the wall, one leg hooked around his, inching closer, closer, when suddenly, he straightened and pulled back.
His nose twitched, his eyes pinched together, and he sneezed.
Maddie giggled. “Bless you.”
“Thank—” He sneezed again. His eyes watered, and he swiped at his nose.
On the drop cloth–covered couch, Horatio peeked open one eye and yawned. He gave his tail a swish, and Trent sneezed again. “Damn cat.”
She ducked under him to grab a box of tissues out of the bathroom. “So we’re going out for dinner?” she asked lightly.
“Not a problem.” He snatched a tissue and sneezed again. “Allergy meds in the truck.”
“C’mon.” She tugged him toward the door. “Let me close up the house, and I’ll meet you outside.”
He paused and touched a bunch of cornflowers on the wall. His eyebrows bunched together, and he swept a glance toward the rest of the Mediterranean landscape dominating the room. An uneasy sensation slithered through Maddie’s gut. She started to ask if he liked it, but suddenly he sneezed again, then gave a helpless shrug and self-deprecating chuckle.
She shooed him outside, finding her smile once again. “Go take your medicine. Be right there.” She hustled through the house, slipped on shoes, grabbed a sweatshirt, and closed all the rooms she didn’t want Horatio getting into.
“Be good,” she told the cat. The goofy grin probably ruined the effect, but she didn’t care. Work was under control, and she was having dinner with Trent.
Probably a lot more than that.
She locked up, then practically danced across the new grass to the curb. Trent held the truck door open for her, stealing a kiss as he boosted her up. “Partition’s up at Ruby’s. It’s ready for paint.”
“My second favorite thing in the world.”
He chuckled. “So where do you want to go tonight?”
“I dunno.” She traced the angle of his rough jaw with her fingers, enjoying the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled at her. “How about that place we went yesterday?” They could grab takeout on the way. Make love. Make love some more. Talk. Watch the stars come out.
Be happy, at least for tonight.
Definitely talk. That kid thing was still pretty important.
But then he was leaning into her seat and nuzzling her neck. “Don’t think there’s much food left out there.”
He nipped at that sweet spot beneath her ear, and she sucked in a breath. “Never mind. Not hungry.” A car drove past, and Maddie jumped.
Trent stepped back and blew out a long breath. His nose twitched again, and Maddie started giggling. His dimples popped out. “You’re killing me, Mad.”
“Let’s go have some fun.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He shut her door and walked around to the driver’s side, then climbed in and cranked the engine. She slid a hand to his thigh, but he pushed her away. “You want to get there in one piece, you’ll keep your hands to yourself.”
Considering the plans she had for the bulge in his jeans, she behaved herself.
But only until he stopped driving. Then all thoughts of behaving went out the window.
It wasn’t until after he’d dropped her off that she realized they’d forgotten to do the talking thing. But they had lunch plans for tomorrow—real lunch plans—at a public place, so it could wait.
In the meantime, she had to check in with Gina. And she also had a bathroom to paint. She still owed Ruby for the cat.
Chapter Twenty
Secrets, secrets, secrets…How much sharing should a couple do?
I can hide things, but he better not.
There’s no secret our love can’t conquer.
I’m sure he has a good reason for keeping secrets from me.
What if I don’t even want to know the secret?
RUBY LEFT for work every morning at four. Linda knew, because she was awake every morning at 3:30, listening to Ruby get ready. She was quiet about it, but Linda still heard her.
Linda wasn’t just waking up anymore. She was becoming alive again. Feeling things. Understanding things. Wanting things.
So today, after being a virtual prisoner in Ruby’s guest room for nearly two weeks, Linda got out of bed at 4:05 instead of rolling over and going to sleep. She took a shower. Found clean clothes. Combed her hair.
And then, after all that work, she slipped My Little Pony in her pocket and went for a walk.
Walking was hard, but stretching her muscles, breathing cold air, her heart stirring in her chest, it all felt…good. As if maybe she was alive so she could have this morning, this sense of peace she hadn’t been able to find for so long, she’d forgotten she was looking for it.
She didn’t move fast, but she moved. And today, that was good.
The sandwich shop opened for breakfast every morning at six. She knocked on the back door a few minutes before that. There was a purple car parked near the light in back of the store. It struck Linda as funny, that purple car.
Funny felt good.
The door opened, and Ruby stood there. She was dressed in her crazy rainbow outfit again, wearing the lace apron Linda had given her for Christmas when the kids were still little. “I walked,” Linda said uncertainly.
Ruby’s cheeks split into a grin. “You sure did, honey. Get on in here and get something to eat.”
There was a small table tucked into a corner of the kitchen, and Ruby led her there. The doctor’s daughter was there too. Linda never understood why the doctor let the girl go out in public with her hair and clothes like that. She even had green smears on her face and arms. Andi never would’ve embarrassed Linda like that.
The normal pang of grief she felt when she thought of her own daughter was softer this time. Linda waited, but no other pain came. Just a distant memory, floating by as if it had no more substance than a cloud. Andi was running through the park in her new Sunday dress, her pigtails flying, her big grin proudly displaying the gap where her front two baby teeth had been just days before. She was wearing new shoes, and she tripped over them and fell in the grass. Linda ran to scoop her up, and the first thing she saw was the grass stain all over the new dress. But Andi smiled and said, “Look, Mama! I colored my dress! Isn’t it pretty?”
Linda’d told her the dress was ruined. Wrung her hands in shame as Andi skipped into Sunday School in a stained dress, because there wasn’t money or time for a new one. It didn’t matter much now, did it?
Maybe the doctor was onto something.
Linda started as Ruby set a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be back with your tea in a minute.” She looked down at the table and found a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.
“No use arguing,” the doctor’s daughter said cheerfully. “She’s used to getting her way.”
Linda nodded. The girl said something else, but Linda only half listened. Her voice was pleasant enough to listen to the tones without worrying about the words. Ruby came back with tea, then bustled off to open the door. Linda knew the routine well. The kitchen was the same as when she used to come here every morning, the routine would be the same. Ruby’s first customers would be the farmers. It was always the farmers.
The girl was talking again. Linda nodded and picked up her fork. Her stomach rumbled. Probably it was the exercise that made her hungry. The sound of the girl’s voice lulled her back into that peaceful place she’d found on her walk this morning.
After a bit, the talking stopped. Linda blinked down at her plate, startled to realize half of her eggs were gone, along with most of her tea. Her stomach felt better. Content.
She looked up at the girl. But then she heard a voice.
His voice. No, not him. His son. The one who wouldn’t save Andi.
The girl heard it too. She blushed as she cocked her head to one side and looked toward the dining room door.
Linda frowned. This wouldn’t do. But he was talking again, and when he talked, Linda heard every word.
“You weren’t peeking, were you, Ruby?” he said.
“That’s my bathroom, and I’ll look if I want to,” Ruby said.
“You see Maddie today?” he asked.
Ruby made that sound she used when she didn’t want people to know what she really thought. “I saw her come out of my bathroom with green paint all over her this morning. Don’t you grin at me. You think you’re having fun, maybe I won’t be paying for something I don’t like.”
“Maddie says green paint, she gets green paint. Gotta trust the artist here.”
Darkness crept around the edges of Linda’s vision. She’d been having such a nice, peaceful morning. Why did he have to be here? He always ruined everything. She wanted to ignore him. She wanted him to go away. But he kept on talking, and then other people wanted to talk to him, and he stayed. He stayed, and he stayed.
The girl stayed too. She stayed and listened as though he were the Pied Piper and he’d cast them all under his spell.
“’Morning, Scilla,” he said now. Linda knew that tone. He thought he was better than her. Most everyone was better than that Scilla girl, but not him.
His voice changed, and it made her angry. He wasn’t supposed to act nice. He wasn’t nice. “Hey, there, Tiffany. How’re you this morning?”
“I got a new jacket,” a little voice answered. “It’s because I made the cheerleading team.”
“Squad. Her first game’s on Saturday,” the nasty girl purred. “You should come.”
“Hmph,” Linda muttered. “They deserve each other.”
“I’ve been meaning to call you,” that awful Scilla said. “I need my house painted.”
“I don’t do painting myself. Never had a knack for it.” He lied just like his father too. The both of them, they could do any damn thing they wanted to a house and make it smell like roses. “You know who you should call? Maddie. She’s a genius with a paintbrush. Never heard a bad word about a single one of her jobs. Ain’t that right, Ruby?”
“For now,” Ruby said.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Scilla said. Linda pictured Scilla sinking her claws into him and dragging him out the door. It made her feel better.
“Oh, right. Right. I forgot,” he said. More lying. Linda could smell him lying. Why couldn’t the rest of them see it?
“Why can’t Maddie do it, Mom?” the little voice said.
“She just can’t,” Scilla said.
Despite her mother’s tone, the little girl shrieked, “Hey, guess what! I want to get a cat, just like the one Maddie has. Mom says if I cheer good, she’ll think about it. Isn’t that awesome?”
The bastard had the nerve to chuckle. “Totally.”
“Ruby, where is our coffee?” Scilla said.
“So, Tiffany, what time are you cheering on Saturday?” he said. Linda didn’t recognize his tone. It was odd, like nothing she’d ever heard from his father. It almost sounded like he had a soul. But that couldn’t be true.
“Liar,” Linda whispered to herself. “Lying, selfish bastard. No better than your father.”
“That’s mean.”
Linda started. She looked up and found the doctor’s daughter frowning at her.
“It’s true,” Linda said.
The girl shook her head. “He’s a good man.”
This one was falling for it too. Linda made that mistake once, and look where she was now. “His pretty face, all those nice words, it’s a lie. He let my daughter die. Is that a good man?”
“He did his best.” She spoke quietly but firmly. “He’s doing his best now.”
“No.” The girl was under his spell. He’d charmed her too. “It’s all lies.”
“You’re everything he has.” Her voice was too soft and too loud at the same time. “He’s here for you. Because you matter to him. He loves you.”
It wasn’t true. He didn’t love anyone but himself. “He’s not capable of love.”
“You weren’t the only one who lost her,” the girl said. She sounded like her mother. “He’s grieved her all these years too. He’s carried around his guilt a long time, and he only puts on a show so nobody else will see how badly he’s hurt. He didn’t have to come back, didn’t have to stay, but he’s here for you, because you taught him how to be a good person.”
“No. It’s not true.” Linda was getting warm. Too warm, and too cold. He couldn’t be a good person. He hadn’t saved her little girl. How could anyone defend him?
“He and Andi were a lot alike,” the doctor’s daughter said. “People liked them both. They were both a joy to be around, happy, confident, charming. They both learned that from you.”
“Charming,” Linda snorted. “Charming. Lure you in, then break you. You know where they got that from? They got it from their father.”
The girl’s eyes went wide. A chill settled in Linda’s stomach. She’d said too much.
“There now,” Ruby said. She sailed into the kitchen. “I knew food would perk you up. Maddie, hon, your daddy called. He needs some help over at the church.”
The girl was still wide-eyed and pale, but she stood up. “Thanks for breakfast, Ruby. Stay out of the bathroom.” She fled the kitchen as if it was on fire.
“I—” Linda stammered. “She—”
Ruby’s hand was strong and capable on Linda’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said. “Ain’t a more trustworthy soul in the whole county. She’s a good girl. Smart too.”
“She fell for him,” Linda spat. That wasn’t smart. Sawyer boys, they were trouble.
Ruby knelt before her and took her chin in her hands. “Linda, hon, she’s right. He’s not his father. He’s a good man. Only thing he got from his father was a determination to not turn into him. Our Trent, he’s made something of his life. He couldn’t have done that without you.”
Linda’s eyes stung. She hated the pain. She hated the pain, and she wanted a cigarette. “He didn’t save her,” she whimpered.
“Oh, honey.” Ruby wrapped her in a hug, a tight cocoon of safety and warmth. She stroked her hair and rubbed her cheek against her own. “Baby, she wasn’t supposed to be saved. She was sent here to teach us that good can come of bad. If we don’t honor that, we’re not honoring her.”
