Adopted Parents (16 page)

Lately, Hallie stayed in a mood.

And now Liz had her all pumped up about some couple she knew who just happened to be looking for a child to adopt. How convenient. Maybe they should put pictures of Ahn all over Winchester with a caption that read: Know anyone who might want to adopt this kid?

Liz needed to mind her own damn business.

Especially since he and Hallie had already decided if they couldn’t find parents by Ahn’s third birthday they would call off the readoption. Nate didn’t want anyone stepping in to screw that up.

Nate looked up as Hallie set the replenished bowl in front of Ahn then sat.

“Say thank you.”

“Thank you,” Ahn said without having to be further prompted.

Nate felt like reaching over and kissing Ahn.

Instead, he stood and walked over to stand behind Hallie’s chair. He put his arms around her and bent down to kiss her neck. “I apologize. You’re right. I need to give you more support with Ahn’s manners. What can I do to make you forgive me for being such an ass?”

She tilted her head up for a kiss.

Nate gave her one.

“Let me go back to work,” she said. “Now.”

Nate looked down at her. “Now? Seriously?”

“Yes,” she said. “You were right, too. I am starting to sound like Roberta, and I don’t want to do that to Ahn. Ever. Maybe if we create a break in our schedule, give ourselves some hours apart, she’ll be more receptive to me.”

“And you’re really ready to go back to work full-time?”

“I was thinking only part-time at first. It would give us a chance to see how you staying home and me working would play out if we do call off the readoption.”

Nate knew he couldn’t back down now. Not after she mentioned calling off the readoption.

He shrugged. “Sure. I think this is a good idea. Phone your boss tomorrow and see what you can work out.”

“And you really wouldn’t mind?”

“No. Ahn and I will do fine.”

She stood and turned to face him. Her arms slid around his neck as she kissed him. Really kissed him—as though she meant it.

“That’s only a sample of how much I appreciate you,” she whispered. “Later, you’ll get the full entrée.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“Then let me give Ahn her bath, and you put the dishes in the dishwasher,” she said. “I want to explain to her that I’m going back to work.”

Nate nodded okay. But he thought,
What the hell did I just do?

Of course, he and Ahn would be fine. Nate wasn’t worried about that. He was worried about Hallie getting caught up in her career again and coming to the conclusion that if they did call off the readoption he could raise Ahn alone.

Even Nate didn’t want that.

Ahn deserved two parents.

Or at least, two parent figures.

But what if once Hallie broke free, she did exactly what he had done when he put his mother in the nursing home? Kept running and never looked back?

After he loaded the dishwasher, Nate climbed the stairs, ready for his nightly ritual of reading twice whatever book Ahn picked. But he paused outside the nursery door, listening as Hallie talked to her while getting Ahn into her pajamas.

“So I want you to be a good girl for Uncle Nate on the days I’m at work, okay? He loves you and he loves me, too, or he wouldn’t realize how much I miss the work I do. When you’re all grown up, you’ll have a career one day. And I don’t exactly know how to explain it, sweetie, but there’s nothing as rewarding as the satisfaction a person gets from knowing they’re the best at what they do. I guess that’s why I’ve been so grumpy lately, and I’m sorry about that. But you and I both know that I don’t do my job of taking care of you better than anyone else. I do the best I can, Ahn, but you deserve so much better than I’m able to give you.”

Nate stepped away from the door, cursing himself for eavesdropping.

He’d been lying to himself. He’d been so sure that he and Hallie being together meant the three of them would all live happily ever after.

“I’m not the mommy type,” she’d said once.

He should have paid more attention to that statement.

Nate, however, hadn’t been so thrilled about her working weekends. And he’d seemed downright shocked when she’d told him when she would start.

But Hallie had made mad and passionate love to Nate last night—even more madly and more passionately than usual—as her way of reassuring him that
he
excited her more than work.

Thinking about how much Nate did excite her, Hallie reached out and took his hand. It was Friday pizza night. She would start work tomorrow so they’d celebrated at the pizza parlor. Now they were standing outside the restaurant watching Ahn ride the mechanical pony.

Hallie squeezed Nate’s hand. “I’m going to miss you tomorrow.”

His laugh had more than a touch of cynicism in it. “I doubt that. You’ll be too busy. And you’ll love every minute of it.”

Hallie didn’t like his implication that she was the only one who felt passionate about her work. “The same way you love it when you’re out in the field on assignment, you mean?”

“The same way I
loved
it,” he stressed. “There are more important things to me now.”

Hallie let go of his hand.

Nate had been short with her all day. She’d purposely ignored him trying to avoid an argument. The last thing she wanted was them at odds when she went to the studio. But now he was being a jerk, and Hallie wasn’t putting up with it.

“What’s going on with you, Nate? You agreed I could go back to work. But you’re acting all pissed about it. If you didn’t want me to do this, you should have just told me.”

He turned to face her. “I’m not pissed. I’m just concerned.”

“Concerned about what?”

“About you becoming so involved in your work again, there won’t be any room left in your life for us.”

Hallie reached up and kissed him. “There’ll always be room for us, Nate. I promise you that.”

“I meant Ahn and me, Hallie.”

He pushed away from her. But not before she saw the disappointment in his eyes.

“Nate,” she called out after him.

He didn’t turn around. And he didn’t wait for her to catch up. He took Ahn off the horse and headed straight to the Range Rover.

Hallie marched after him. There was just no winning with Nate or Ahn. And Hallie was getting tired of it fast.

He looked over at her. “Why do you put up with me?”

“I was just asking myself that same question.”

“I don’t blame you,” he said. “I’ve become the king of mixed messages, and I swear, Hallie, my only explanation for why I keep changing my mind is this damn purgatory we’re living in. I just want whatever we’re doing settled one way or the other. Can you understand that?”

He looked so discouraged Hallie reached out and took his hand. “Yes, I understand that. But we need each other, Nate. If we’re going to get through whatever happens with Ahn, we have to stick together.”

“That’s not what I meant, Hallie. I meant we can settle what happens with Ahn right now. You’re already going back to work, and I’m going to stay home with her. That much is settled. Let’s settle everything and call off the readoption.”

If only she could do that.

“I can’t, Nate. I’m sorry. Not when we still have four months left to find the right parents.”

“Okay,” he said. “We’ll do it your way.”

“It isn’t my way,” Hallie said. “It’s the right way, Nate. It’s what we promised Janet and David we would do when we signed the guardianship agreement.”

He didn’t answer.

And Hallie didn’t push it any further.

“We can’t begin to tell you how much we’ve missed you, Hallie,” Pete said in his speech. “It’s good to have you back.”

Everyone clapped and cheered.

Five months ago, Hallie wouldn’t have been able to handle such a party. But today she reveled in the attention, basked in the glory of knowing how much she’d been missed, and she wasn’t going to feel one bit guilty about it.

Here, she was Hallie Weston again, competent executive producer. Here, her opinions mattered and her ability to do her job better than anyone else was admired.

In Winchester she was Janet’s poor sister. Ahn’s incompetent caregiver. And Nate’s…

Unfortunately, at the moment, Hallie wasn’t sure what she was to Nate. She’d thought she knew. She’d thought she was his friend, his lover and the person he wanted to share his life with.

But he’d slept with his back to her last night. And she hadn’t made things worse by trying to
talk the situation to death,
as he’d once put it. Nate had, however, been in a little bit better mood at breakfast.

He’d kissed her and told her to have a good day when she’d left. He’d even walked her to the car, carrying Ahn and instructing Ahn to wave goodbye. They’d both still been waving as Hallie backed out of the driveway.

As selfish as it was, the second she drove away from Wedge Pond, Hallie’s only thought was that finally she was free. Free to be herself. Free to do what she did best. Free to step out of Janet’s life and into her own.

She’d called them at home at lunchtime, surprised to get the answering machine. Her call to Nate’s cell phone had also gone straight to voice mail. But that really didn’t worry Hallie. Nate was forever either forgetting to turn his cell phone on, or leaving it in the house or the car when he did remember to take it with him. The habit was probably a holdover from spending years in remote areas with no cell phone service.

She’d sent him a text message about an hour ago, but she’d yet to get a reply back. It told Hallie Nate was probably still pouting.

She’d lain awake after he’d gone to sleep last night, thinking about all the possibilities their future together could hold if they could find the right parents for Ahn. They could sell the house on Wedge Pond. They could buy one of those great brownstones in Back Bay that would be close to the station so she’d have a short commute.

A brownstone would be perfect for them, not too big, but with enough space to breathe. There would be plenty of room for all of Nate’s camera equipment, even a darkroom if he wanted one—he still liked to dabble in black-and-white film. Plus, Ahn would be able to have her own bedroom for times when she came for sleepover visits, which Hallie intended to be often.

When Nate was out of the country on assignment, she could fly to be with him. Or if his location was too dangerous, they could always meet somewhere else to spend a few days together. Hallie could even bring Ahn with her once she was older. What a great opportunity that would be for Ahn to experience different countries and different cultures.

Didn’t Nate understand that?

Didn’t he understand that they could still be a big part of Ahn’s life after the readoption? Did he really not see how much better Ahn’s life would be if she had the right parents to raise her?

Hallie propped her elbows on her desk, closed her eyes and reached up to massage her temples. She opened her eyes when she felt the vibration of her cell phone lying next to her on the desk.

Hallie picked up the phone. Nate’s text message read:

“I miss you, too, Nate,” she said out loud. “Please don’t end up making me miss you forever.”

Usually it was after dinner while Nate was giving Ahn her bath before she had time to pick up all of Ahn’s toys and get the downstairs in some kind of shape so Gladys wouldn’t have a fit. She’d been working with Ahn, teaching her to pick up her toys and put them into the box beside the fireplace. That usually resulted in Ahn taking more toys out than she was putting in.

But when Hallie walked into the den, the mess she’d expected wasn’t there. The room was toy-free, clear and neat.

“I’m home,” she called out, walking toward the kitchen, another area that was also relatively tidy.

She smiled when Nate walked out of the dining room.

He held out his arms and Hallie walked into them.

“Where’s Ahn?” Hallie asked, kissing him.

“Already in her high chair,” he said. “We were waiting for you.”

Hallie accepted a kiss back. “Everything looks great around here. I’m extremely impressed.”

“Thanks,” he said and kissed her again. “Want to go up and change first?”

“No,” Hallie said. “Just let me wash my hands.”

Hallie kicked off her heels and padded barefoot toward the bathroom off the kitchen. “I’ll be there to kiss you in a minute, sweet girl,” Hallie called to Ahn.

She was even more impressed when she walked into the dining room a few minutes later.

“Wow,” Hallie said. “Candlelight
and
the good china? What did I do to deserve this?”

That was when Hallie saw the dog.

A big black dog. A big black dog sitting beside Ahn’s high chair as if he belonged there.

Hallie’s gaze cut to Nate.

“The Humane Society was at the park when Ahn and I went on our picnic. The minute Ahn saw him, she pointed and said, ‘Buster.’”

Buster was the black Lab in Ahn’s favorite book.

“That’s your explanation? Ahn pointed to a dog, so you walked over and adopted it and brought him home? If she’d pointed to an elephant and said, ‘Toby,’ would you have brought it home, too?”

Toby was the elephant in Ahn’s second-favorite book.

“I thought you were real big on adoption, Hallie.”

So that was it.

The dog was her payback.

“I am, Nate. Completely.”

“Then you shouldn’t have a problem with Buster.”

“Did you even stop to think the dog might hurt her, Nate? You don’t know this dog’s temperament.”

“I’m not stupid, Hallie. He’s a retired service dog, okay? The old man he was assigned to died, and the family didn’t want him. That’s how he ended up for adoption.”

Hallie wasn’t convinced. “But couldn’t they have assigned him to someone else? I know dogs like him are expensive.”

Nate shook his head. “He’s at the age where they consider him too old to reassign. He’s paid his dues. It’s time he simply enjoyed life.”

Hallie looked at the dog. He was staring at her expectantly, his tail wagging slightly as if he knew exactly what was going on. Ahn leaned down and fed him a piece of pasta. His tail wagged again.

Hallie looked back at Nate. “And what do you intend to do with him
later?
”

And Nate knew exactly what
later
meant.

“If
later
happens,” he said, “that’s when I’ll worry about it.”

He pulled out her chair and Hallie walked over to it.

Their relationship was quickly beginning to unravel at the seams. And short of calling off the readoption, there was nothing Hallie could do to stop it.