Adopted Parents (6 page)

Nate checked his watch. It was only 5:45 and Roberta served dinner promptly at six—being late wasn’t an option.

Nate walked out of the bathroom, grabbed the clean boxers he’d placed on the bed and stepped into them. Jeans and a T-shirt would have been his preference, but Roberta insisted everyone dress for dinner.

He slid his arms into the sleeves of a dress shirt, and pulled on a pair of pants. As he looked around for his shoes, Nate thought of how Janet had also preferred dressing for dinner. Made sense. She had, after all, grown up with that tradition.

Instead of being commanding like Roberta, and jerking the plates right out from under you the minute you finished eating, Janet had been the nurturing type. You could tell Janet enjoyed making the evening meal special, eating in the dining room, putting out the good china, serving after-dinner coffee and encouraging everyone to linger for after-dinner conversation.

Not once had Nate sat at Janet’s table and not been thankful she was David’s wife. After David met Janet, everything his brother had always wanted seemed to click into place. He had a beautiful wife who loved him. A beautiful home. They’d finally adopted the child they’d always wanted.

Deb Langston didn’t have to tell Nate what a committed father David was. David’s entire life had revolved around Janet and Ahn. They were the center of his world. His reason for existing.

All the things Nate didn’t want. He’d learned a long time ago that what you wanted most was what life didn’t let you keep.

Weren’t David and Janet proof of that?

They’d had everything they wanted most, then a drunk driver had taken their lives in the blink of an eye. As cynical and coldhearted and as guilty as Nate felt about the thought, he was still glad David and Janet died together.

Neither of them would have survived without the other.

Just like his mother hadn’t been able to survive without his dad.

That was why he lived in the moment. No personal attachments. And no promises life wouldn’t let him keep.

Too bad his own convictions didn’t excuse him from the promises other people made, however. And too bad that even though he’d been successful in shutting down his heart, he’d been less successful in turning off his conscience.

In truth, Nate’s conscience was all he had left.

That was why he was fully committed to making sure Ahn did have the type of future David and Janet had promised to give her. Whatever it took, Nate intended to make that happen.

As he entered the main room of the cottage, socks in hand, still looking for his shoes, a knock at the door jerked his head around. Nate’s first thought was that something was wrong. Hallie and Roberta never came down to the cottage. They always used the intercom that connected the cottage to the house if they wanted to communicate with him.

Nate tossed the socks onto the sofa and, his shirt still unbuttoned, hurried to open the door. Hallie was on the other side.

But not the unkempt and frazzled Hallie he’d been seeing for the past three weeks. Her hair was clean and shiny, her makeup was on and the off-the-shoulder green sweater she wore was just revealing enough to take Nate’s thoughts to the night she had taken her shirt off on the dance floor.

“I thought we’d eat alone tonight,” she said. “So we could talk in private.”

Nate looked down at the tray she was holding.

There were two covered plates along with silverware wrapped in linen napkins, wineglasses turned upside down and one bottle of red wine already uncorked. All the requisite pieces for a dinner for two. Alone. Just the two of them.

Damn. He really didn’t want alone time with her.

“Is that a problem?” she asked when he didn’t respond.

“No. Of course not,” Nate said, stepping aside.

She walked past him heading for the banquette built into the kitchen’s breakfast nook. Nate’s gaze fell to the back of her jeans—a little loose from the weight she’d lost but not loose enough to keep his pulse from kicking up a notch. Yep. This could go very wrong.

She looked over her shoulder as she placed the tray on the table. “Go put on something comfortable. I’m not Roberta. You don’t have to dress for dinner with me.”

Nate obeyed, partly because he needed a minute to put together his game plan. No matter what his libido wanted there would be no seduction tonight. He’d listen to her, answer appropriately and hold on to whatever gruesome images necessary to keep from picturing the two of them getting tangled in the sheets.

Belatedly he registered her words. She wanted to talk in private, making Nate wonder what they had to talk about that was so private. It wasn’t as if Roberta didn’t know everything about the situation they were in.

Not another rendition of what had happened ten years ago, he hoped. Hopefully, they’d put that issue to rest forever. But you never knew with women. Sometimes women had to talk an issue to death before they could move on.

Nate groaned at that thought.

He walked to the dresser in his bedroom and grabbed a T-shirt from the drawer, then took a pair of jeans from the drawer directly below it.

Or, Nate decided as he changed clothes, maybe Hallie had spent the afternoon thinking over his proposal. Maybe she’d decided that she would go back to work. That would certainly explain the sudden transformation—in her appearance and in her attitude.

She seemed more confident. Not so rattled and on edge. And she didn’t look as if she were ready to cry at any minute. By the time he finished changing Nate had convinced himself that whatever Hallie had to tell him was good news. Why else would she show up unexpectedly with food and wine?

She’d almost dropped the tray when he’d opened the door, his shirt unbuttoned, his tanned six-pack abs staring her in the face. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until Nate emerged from the bedroom that Hallie realized asking him to change was a big mistake.

He would have eventually buttoned his shirt. But the black T-shirt he now wore hugged every muscle. And he looked so good in his faded jeans Hallie took a long swallow from her wineglass to hide her gulp.

He slid onto the bench seat across from her.

“Roberta’s lasagna,” he said, examining his plate. He looked at her and smiled. “My favorite.”

She waited until he’d taken a few bites of lasagna and even waited until he’d enjoyed a few sips of wine, before diving into their discussion.

“I want you to hear me out before you say a word. Agreed?” She knew extracting the promise was probably the fastest way for him to put his guard up, but she needed him to listen to her rationale before jumping in to tell her why it wouldn’t work.

He nodded, but he reached for his wineglass again.

“Everything Dr. Langston said this morning pissed me off. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to hold on to my righteous indignation that she would expect me to quit my job and put my career on hold when an experienced nanny could take far better care of Ahn than I could.”

Hallie leaned back. “Then you offered me the perfect solution. And God, you have no idea how much I want to take you up on that offer. But I can’t.”

Nate started to say something.

Hallie held her hand up to stop him.

“So,” she said. “Now I’m going to propose something to you. And surprisingly, it’s the exact thing Dr. Langston said we should do. We forget the nanny, and we both take care of Ahn. Could you agree to that?”

He wanted Hallie desperately. Sitting across from her now he wanted her as much as he had ten years ago. And with the misunderstanding of the past cleared up, his desire for her had been given a green light. But if they slept together, then what? A brief affair was all Nate had ever had to offer her—he didn’t do commitment. So they’d have their fun and what if they crashed and burned before finding suitable parents for Ahn? How could a return to hostility between him and Hallie benefit Ahn if they were joint caregivers? Sure, if he was a better man, he’d keep his urges to himself. But he was honest enough to admit he didn’t have it in him to resist an agreeable, let’s-get-along Hallie.

She was waiting for his answer. “You’re worried we’ll end up in bed.”

Nate didn’t lie. “Yes. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. We’re sitting here now, discussing the most serious decision we’ve had to make in our lives, and all I can think about is that we’re only steps away from the bedroom.”

That
was a match to his libido. “Don’t say things like that.”

“You think it’s better to pretend that I don’t know what you’re thinking, and that you don’t know what I’m thinking? You think maybe it’ll go away?”

“Yes. No.” He paused. “Hell, Hallie, I don’t know, okay? All I do know is this isn’t the right time to have an affair. For either of us.”

“Just like ten years ago wasn’t the right time?”

She was trying to piss him off. It worked.

“Yeah,” Nate said. “Just like ten years ago.”

She shrugged. “Okay. We’ve established the fact that this the wrong time for an affair. But you still haven’t answered my question. Are you willing to help me take care of Ahn?”

This is why women should come with a warning label. Blows hot one minute, ice-cold the next.

“I’m not sure we’re capable of taking care of Ahn without a nanny.”

“Roberta’s agreed to stay the rest of the week and show me what I need to know,” she said. “But I know my limitations. My cooking sucks. I hate doing laundry. And the thought of trying to keep a two-story house clean makes me want to put a gun to my head. We won’t need a nanny if you help me take care of Ahn. But I do want to hire a housekeeper. Just during the week. I can manage on weekends.”

Since he wasn’t into domestic duty any more than she was, that made sense. “And you really think we can do this?”

She smiled. “Take care of Ahn? Or stay out of bed?”

“Both,” Nate said.

Her expression turned serious. “Yes, Nate. We can do both. We have to do this for Ahn. And we can’t risk the fallout of an affair gone bad. We don’t have anyone but each other to rely on. And I don’t want to lose that.”

“I agree,” Nate said. Could he do this—care for Ahn and ignore any lustful thoughts Hallie might inspire? It would be a test. But maybe if they kept a buffer between them and Hallie didn’t turn on the charm, he could. He owed it to David to try. “Count me in then.”

“Thank you,” she said. “We’re doing the right thing.”

Nate expected her to finish eating with him but she slid from the booth and headed for the door. Nate didn’t try to stop her and Hallie didn’t look back as she closed the door behind her.

He knew what she was thinking.

She knew what he was thinking.

And they both knew what they were thinking would never simply go away.

“Look at you,” Janet would say. “All you have to do is run a comb through your hair and dab on some lip gloss and you look like a fashion model. If I didn’t love you so much, I would hate you for that.”

Lucky for Hallie, Janet had loved her unconditionally.

Just as Janet had loved the child Hallie was grooming now, almost ready to go downstairs for breakfast.
If,
that was, Hallie could ever get the blasted ponytail thingy fastened around Ahn’s extra fine long, black hair.

“Sorry,” Hallie told Ahn for the tenth time.

She had the pigtail on the right side secured. But the one on the left was having none of it.

“Maybe we should just leave one side up and one side down,” Hallie said, watching Ahn for her reaction. “Wouldn’t Roberta just
love
that.”

As usual, Ahn’s reaction was the same: blank stare, no response.

Finally, the ponytail holder stayed. “Yay,” Hallie said, making direct eye contact with Ahn again. “Say good job, Aunt Hallie. You finally did it.”

Ahn, of course, said none of that.

Hallie picked her up and hugged her anyway.

“Ready for breakfast?” Hallie chirped as she carried Ahn toward the stairs. “Can you say breakfast?”

Over the past week, Hallie had studied Deb’s notebook until she had it memorized page by page. Hallie was determined to follow what Roberta called hogwash to the letter.

Hallie now knew how important it was to maintain direct eye contact with Ahn when talking to her. And how she needed to talk to her as much as possible to encourage her to repeat the words she heard.

She knew to always applaud and praise Ahn for even the simplest things she tried to do for herself. Which, sadly, Hallie had learned were very few.

She knew that Ahn needed to be held, hugged, kissed and cuddled as much as possible to help her overcome being so withdrawn and detached. She knew Ahn needed at least one hour of outside playtime every day to get her over her fear of being outdoors. And that Ahn needed to be read to at least once a day, not only as a bonding opportunity, but to stimulate Ahn’s cognitive skills by associating pictures with words.

The most challenging thing for Hallie, however, had been the stretching exercises that needed to be performed three times a day so her arm and leg muscles—underdeveloped from being confined to a crib—would continue to strengthen. Ahn hated those exercises. She would jerk away from Hallie when they hurt, but not once had she cried. She’d only look away with that same distant expression.

“Say good morning, Roberta,” Hallie instructed when they reached the kitchen. She placed Ahn into her high chair.

“Her pasta is ready,” Roberta said.

Hallie walked over and picked up the bowl containing the one thing Ahn would eat without a fight. And by herself. Was mac and cheese a normal breakfast food? No. But getting her to eat was an ongoing battle. Her mainstay at the orphanage had been a bottle. According to the pediatrician, if she would eat pasta, they were to let her have pasta whenever she wanted.

Hallie placed the bowl on the chair tray and pushed it closer to her. Ahn picked up a shell and popped it into her mouth.

“What a smart girl,” Hallie said.

“You should be teaching her to eat with her spoon,” Roberta commented. “She has a spoon right there. If you don’t make her use it, she never will.”

“She’ll get there,” Hallie said. “The important thing right now is that she’s eating and that she’s feeding herself—even with her fingers.”

Roberta snorted. “Says the sudden child expert.”

Hallie ignored that comment.

They were both watching Ahn when she suddenly picked up her bowl and placed it upside down on top of her head. Roberta gasped. Hallie clapped her hands.

Finally, a reaction other than a blank stare. Finally, she’d done something a normal kid would do.

“Don’t encourage that kind of behavior,” Roberta scolded. “She’ll only repeat it.”

Roberta took the bowl off Ahn’s head and began picking gooey pieces of pasta from her hair. Hallie stood back and let her.
Gooey
was right up there with
poopy
in Hallie’s book. Ew.

When Roberta finished the task, she looked over at Hallie with a satisfied smile. “Your turn,” she said. “She just messed her diaper.”

Hallie’s stomach rolled over.

But she took a deep breath and held it, grabbed Ahn out of her high chair and headed for the laundry room that served as the downstairs change area. After placing Ahn on the counter, Hallie took another deep breath and commenced with the necessary—and expedient—diaper switch.

“You need to start thinking about potty training,” Roberta called from the kitchen. “Maybe you can pick up some tips from the women in Janet’s play group. Did you ever call Janet’s friend Liz back like I told you to?”

“No,” Hallie replied, “but I will.”

“See that you do. It’s rude not to respond to an invitation.”

As if Hallie didn’t know that.

Roberta was definitely trying to push Hallie’s buttons this morning. Roberta knew attending a play group held as much appeal for Hallie as having a root canal. Thank God she was leaving today. Hallie would miss the extra set of hands, but she wouldn’t the provocative commentary.

“I hope this housekeeper you’ve hired doesn’t rob you blind,” Roberta said when Hallie returned to the kitchen and placed Ahn in her high chair. “It doesn’t pay to trust too easily, you know. I’d keep a close eye on her.”

“Mrs. Wilson comes with excellent references,” Hallie said. “I checked every one of them personally.” The woman was Roberta’s age, for God’s sake. Highly doubtful she was a thief.

Hallie fixed Ahn a second bowl of pasta, then placed it in front of Ahn. She immediately reached out and popped a piece in her mouth.

“Of course, Janet was so efficient and organized she didn’t need a housekeeper,” Roberta said. “She always planned her days right down to the most minute detail and kept everything under control.”

Meaning that Hallie had neither of those skills. It simply wasn’t true. She couldn’t hold down the job she had without being organized and efficient. But there was no reason to point out that she and Janet had simply focused their skills in separate areas. Roberta had always praised Janet over her—that habit was unlikely to change because Janet wasn’t here.

A cold shiver ran straight through Hallie as the details of that fateful day replayed in her mind. How, after dropping off Ahn at her play date, David and Janet had driven separately to the Mercedes dealership to drop off her car for regular maintenance. And it was on their way back to the house together that David’s BMW was hit head-on by a drunk driver. Any other day Ahn would have been with them—a sobering thought.

Hallie’s heart warmed now when she looked over at Ahn. As long as she had this little girl in her life she would still have a bit of Janet and David in her life, too.

“Well,” Roberta said. “I’ve cooked all week, and I’ve left you every kind of casserole imaginable in the freezer in case you don’t care for the new housekeeper’s cooking.”

“You don’t know how much I appreciate you doing that, Roberta. It will keep me from having to cook on the weekends.”

“You’re going to have your hands full, there’s no doubt about that.”

They both glanced at Ahn, who was playing with her pasta again. The action was Hallie’s hint that Ahn was full.

“One more thing.”

There was always one more thing with Roberta, but she sounded so serious, Hallie paid attention.

“I know we have our differences, Hallie. And I know I’ve always been harder on you than I was on Janet. But I’ve worried about you more. You give off this impression that you don’t need anyone but yourself, and we both know that’s a lie. Be careful and don’t get too attached to Ahn or to Nate. If you do, you’ll only end up hurt when you do find new parents.”

Hallie didn’t know what to say.

So she did the unthinkable. Hallie put her arms around Roberta and hugged her.

Surprisingly, Roberta hugged her back.

“You don’t have to worry about me,” Hallie said when she stepped out of their embrace. “I’ll be careful.”

“See that you do.” Roberta’s tone was back to its usual authoritative note. She looked at her watch. “It’s nine o’clock so I guess I’ll call Nate on the intercom and let him know I’m ready. You know what traffic in downtown Boston is like. It’ll take him at least two hours round trip to my condominium. There’s no need to tie up his entire Saturday waiting around on me.”

Hallie was surprised when Roberta made the first move this time and reached out and squeezed Hallie’s hand. “Just remember, I’m always only a phone call away.”

“Same here,” Hallie told her. “Always.”