Bachelor Father (17 page)

His voice sounded so totally void of
inflection. She lifted her eyes and studied him through the veil of
her lashes. The fluorescent lighting lent a granite quality to his
face. But, other than that, his expression was as neutral as his
voice.

She nodded, hoping to break his intent stare.
Her explanation had sounded so logical earlier.

“I don’t think so.”

Molly started at the vehemence of his
words.

He took her hands in his. “Last night was more
than a chance encounter.”

Her heart skipped a beat at the possibility
that their attraction might have been more to Brett than a
momentary reaction to the stress of the day.

“Admit it,” he ordered. “You had more on your
mind than ‘helping me.’ ”

“I, well.” He must think she was trying to
trap him into a more permanent arrangement. She wasn’t. She
wouldn’t. She’d never. “No,” she blurted before she could stop
herself. “I don’t want to stay married to you.”

Brett lifted her hands from the table and held
them firmly, preventing her from pulling away again. “That bad,
huh? And here I thought we were starting to work together really
well.” A corner of his mouth quirked up in an almost
smile.

Molly felt her face flush. She had to stop
this torture or she’d lose her composure all together and admit to
falling in love with him. “What I meant is that I don’t have any
secret designs for prolonging our relationship beyond its mutual
usefulness.”

“Usefulness?” He started rubbing her knuckles
with his thumb again.

“Yeah, you know, beyond your approval on
Jake’s adoption and my closing on the condo.”

“But aren’t we
good
friends?” Brett emphasized the
word good. “Wouldn’t good friends keep in contact?”

“Sure,” she admitted. But not the kind of
contact she had in mind. She needed to put an end to his leading
questions before her twinge of a headache turned into a full-force
head-slammer and she did something stupid like hurl herself into
his arms for comfort. He couldn’t have ideas for continuing their
relationship. He wanted a once-in-a-lifetime love, like his
grandparents’, before he’d consider a real marriage. He’d said
so.

“What I mean is that I don’t want to drag this
marriage out any longer than you do.” There, that put the ball back
in his court. She searched his eyes for a reaction. When they
darkened, a glimmer of hope sparked in Molly’s heart. Could he be
feeling the same about her?

“I get you.” Brett continued the caress her
fingers. “You don’t want to be married to me anymore than I want to
be married to you. Fair enough.”

Her hopes plummeted. So much for the
possibility of her being the love of his life.

He released her hands and rose from his seat.
Smiling down at her, he said, “I’m starved. You want to have some
chili now?” Brett went over and got two bowls from the
cupboard.

Typical man, putting his stomach first. To
salvage her ravaged emotions, she tried to build a wall of anger
against him. But, what was the use? She couldn’t force him to care
more for her, and they did have to live together for the time
being.

“No,” she said with resignation. “I think I’ll
go upstairs and rest for a while. I feel a killer headache coming
on.”

“You want some aspirin? I have a bottle in the
cupboard somewhere.” His voice was laced with genuine
concern.

“I have extra-strength tablets upstairs. I’ll
be fine.”

“You aren’t coming down with something, like
Jake,” Brett demanded as if forceful words could stop whatever was
causing her head to hurt.

“Brett,” she said irritably. “If I sleep for a
while, I’ll be fine.”

Much to her surprise, he walked over and
kissed the top of her head. His hand squeezed her
shoulder.

“Go, on,” he directed before returning to his
dinner preparations.

Brett sat and stared at the steam rising from
his chili. She didn’t want to be married to him any more than he
wanted to be married to her. Interesting, since he was starting to
think marriage wasn’t a bad deal at all.

Chapter Twelve

Molly hummed to herself as she studied the
file and waited for her clients to arrive. This was the part of her
job she liked best. The Shermans’ adoption application had been
approved, and she had a referral from Korean Child Welfare all
ready for them to consider.

The child’s photo was adorable. Her Korean
foster mother had the five-month-old girl all dressed up in a
frilly pink dress with a big bow in her dark hair, and the baby
smiled a wide toothless grin. Why the little girl was nearly as
cute as Jake.

Footsteps in the hall drew her attention to
the door. The Shermans must be here. Molly checked her watch. Right
on time. A thirty-ish couple entered the office.

“Michelle, Tom,” she welcomed them warmly.
“Please make yourself comfortable.” Molly motioned to the chairs
positioned in front of her desk. “Are you excited? I have your
referral right here.” She picked up the photo to show
them.

When the Shermans didn’t return Molly’s
enthusiasm, she let the photo drop to the desk and looked from Tom
to Michelle. Michelle sat silently, twisting the handle of the
purse she held in her lap. Tom finally cleared his throat and took
his wife’s hand.

“We’re real excited. It’s just we . . . ah,
Michelle.” He looked at his wife.

Michelle took over. “I found out this week
that I’m pregnant.”

“Congratulations,” Molly said. From the case
study, she knew the Shermans had been trying to conceive for
several years. “I’ll bet you were surprised.”

Tom’s face positively beamed as if he
accomplished a great feat. She’d seen the same male expression of
triumph on Brett’s face when he’d forced her to admit their kiss
the other night had meant something.

Molly waited for Tom or Michelle to speak. A
moment passed. The spark in Tom eyes flickered and the glow faded.
He exchanged a look of uneasiness with Michelle.

“Is something wrong?” Molly asked. She
wondered if they might want to withdraw their adoption application.
To Molly, at least, the thought of having two babies under the age
of two was downright scary. “If you’d like to put your adoption on
hold, I can cancel the referral,” she offered.

“No,” they said in unison.

Michelle twisted her purse handle so tightly,
Molly half expected it to break. “Actually,” Michelle said
nervously, “we would like you to cancel the referral you’ve made,
but we don’t want to put the adoption on hold.” She hesitated and
twisted her purse handle more.

Molly smiled what she hoped was a sympathetic
smile and urged Michelle to continue. “You don’t want to postpone
the adoption. What do you want to do?”

Michelle’s voice became a little stronger.
“Since everything has already been approved, we were wondering if
we could ask for an older child, a two- or three-year-old.” She
looked expectantly at Molly.

“Yeah,” Tom added, “if that wouldn’t mess
everything up.”

Molly hadn’t thought of that possibility.
Although the Shermans had requested an infant on their original
application, they qualified to take an older child if that’s what
they wanted. Unfortunately, Korean Child Welfare didn’t have many
older children available.

“There’s no reason you couldn’t choose an
older child,” Molly said. “But you realize that Korean Child
Welfare specializes in placing infants. Many of their toddlers and
older children have health concerns or conditions that might
require special care.”

The couple exchanged another uneasy
look.

“We’ve received some of your flyers announcing
the availability of the special needs children,” Michelle said.
“But we hadn’t realized all of the older children had medical
problems.”

“Oh, no. I don’t want to mislead you. They
don’t all have chronic health problems,” Molly assured
them.

Michelle and Tom’s faces brightened, and they
both looked at Molly intently.

She wanted to give them the facts objectively
so she wouldn’t color the couple’s decision. “Some of the children
had health conditions as infants that prevented them from being
adopted then, but the conditions have since been treated or
corrected by surgery.”

Molly watched Tom squeeze Michelle’s hand and
give her a hopeful, encouraging look. Fleetingly, she wondered what
it would be like to have a family with Brett, to share the joy of
watching Jake grow and adding to their family.

She swallowed the lump that had been forming
in her throat and continued, “Other children have been kept by
their birth mothers for a year or two before being given up for
adoption. As you know from our introductory meeting and literature,
single mothers in Korea are up against a much greater social stigma
than single mothers here. Some of the birth mothers think they can
cope with it and find they can’t. Typically these children have
more difficulty adjusting to their new families.”

The Shermans nodded their
understanding.

“Right now, we don’t have many older children
on our available list,” Molly cautioned. Her stomach knotted. Other
than Jake, that was. “Would you like some time to think about the
possibility of adopting one of the older children? I can set up an
appointment to meet again next week.”

Michelle whispered something to Tom and he
nodded.

Molly felt a conflicting mixture of hope and
guilt at the possibility that she’d forestalled the Shermans into
waiting a while before deciding to take an older child. They
needn’t put their decision off long, just long enough for Brett’s
approval to come through.

“I hope I didn’t discourage you,” she said.
We’ve been very successful with the older children we’ve placed so
far.”

“Not at all,” Michelle said. “While we’re
here, we’d like to look at the listings for the older children you
have available. That is if we can.”

Molly panicked. What if the Shermans requested
Jake? Her thumping heart made it hard to breath. She couldn’t bear
the thought of giving Jake to anyone. Maybe the Shermans wouldn’t
even ask about him. They had specified a preference for a girl.
Molly weighed telling them that she’d need a few days to pull the
older children listings and asking them to come back. But she
couldn’t. It would be unethical. She had the current Waiting
Children Book right in her desk drawer.

Pasting on a smile she hoped didn’t look as
strained as it felt, she said, “You can look in the Waiting
Children Book. If you don’t see a child you think is right for you,
I’ll notify the Korean agency that we have a family looking for an
older child and they’ll send us information on any other older
children they have.” Molly passed the book to Tom and
Michelle.

“Thanks.” The couple began pouring over the
pictures in the book.

Molly picked up some letters she had on her
desk. “I’m going to run downstairs for a minute.” Her absence would
give the Shermans some privacy to discuss the children. If Charles
were downstairs, she could check if Brett’s adoption approval had,
by any chance, come in today’s packet from Korea. Unless it had,
Jake was as available as any of the other children in the
book.

“Molly,” Tom’s call stopped her before she’d
gotten to the door. “What about this little guy?” he asked
excitedly.

Little guy. Dread rolled through her, dark as
an impending thunder cloud. She forced her feet to walk back across
the room and, bracing her hands on the back of Tom and Michelle’s
chairs, looked over their shoulders at the open book. For a moment,
she truly thought she’d be sick. Jake’s happy baby face smiled up
at her from the pages.

“Let me check,” she said, returning to her
seat at the desk. “Charles Brown may have already referred him to
another family.” Molly shut out the look of disappointment that
passed between the Shermans. Nothing they felt could come close to
the grief Brett would suffer if he lost Jake. With shaking hands,
she turned her computer on and prayed fervently that when she typed
in Jake’s identification number, his file would come up with a big
red “REFERED” at the top.

“Network Error. Invalid Drive.”
Molly let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been
holding.
Yes!
Her
prayers had been answered—for the time being. The computer network
was down. No one could access the referral files.

She apologized to the Shermans and she told
them she would call them as soon as she found out Jake’s status.
They thanked her and left.

Molly leaned back in her chair and put her
hands over her eyes. What a close call. She felt as limp as a wet
dishrag.

“Ahem.”

She jerked upright. “Brett!” Her breath caught
at the sight of him lounging against the doorframe in his usual
flannel shirt and fitted jeans, a hint of a smile on his face. What
his well-muscled build did to plain old workclothes ought to be
against the law. How long had he been standing there watching
her?