Daniel's Gift (17 page)

Jenny stared at him in amazement, furious that he could be angry with her.

"Where the hell do you get off? You didn't want a kid. You wanted to be a rich and famous doctor like your parents."

"I was twenty-two years old. I was a kid myself."

"And that excuses your behavior?"

"Didn't it ever occur to you in the last thirteen years that I might have changed, that I might want to know that I have a son?"

"Don't you dare try to turn this around. You threw me away like yesterday's newspaper. You abandoned me. I didn't fit into your life, and how damned inconvenient of me --
of me
," she emphasized, "to get pregnant, as if you barely participated in the act."

"Jen -- "

"Now you're saying that I should care that you might have had second thoughts? Go to hell."

"I did have second thoughts," he shouted back, dropping his voice as a nurse walked down the hallway and put a finger to her lips.

Jenny hardened her heart. "Tough."

"That's it? That's all you can say to me?"

"What do you want me to say? That I'm thrilled you've come back into Danny's life? Well, I'm not. You don't belong here. You don't belong with me. You told me that years ago, and you were right. I don't fit into your world and you don't fit into mine."

"We have a child together, Jenny. Now that I know about Danny, I want to be a part of his life."

"That's too bad. Because you're not going to be a part of his life."

"Danny came to see me yesterday. He obviously doesn't feel the same way you do. I'm not leaving. I want to be here when Danny wakes up. I think that's the way he wants it, too."

Jenny shook her head in frustration. "How would you know what he wants?"

"Think what you will, Jenny, but I'm staying with you."

"You're going to stay here twenty-four hours a day -- with me?" She got up and walked over to him, poking her finger into the middle of his chest to emphasize each word. "You're going to take time out of your business, your life, to wait for a little boy whom you've never met to wake up?"

"That's right."

"Funny. I thought I was the illogical one."

"You are."

"Oh yeah? Then tell me, Luke, just what the hell are you going to say to your arrogant, overachieving parents and your fancy wife when they want you to lunch at the country club? That you have to stay at the hospital, because you just discovered that you and your impossibly unsuitable girlfriend -- I believe those were your mother's words -- made a child together, and that that child is now in critical condition? They'll be thrilled."

"They'll understand," Luke said slowly.

"Will they? Will they really, Luke? Now who's living in a dreamworld?"

Chapter Twelve

Sunday morning came too quickly as far as Luke was concerned. He had spent a long night debating how to tell Denise about his son. It was now almost eleven o'clock in the morning, and he was still stalling. He didn't usually avoid challenges, but this situation went beyond anything he had ever dealt with. He had the feeling that telling Denise about Danny would change his marriage forever.

Putting down his sixth cup of coffee, Luke walked through the kitchen, the family room, and out onto the backyard deck that overlooked the pool. It was a gloriously green backyard, colorful with landscaping. It was a grown-up backyard.

Luke couldn't imagine Danny in this yard, at least not the kid that he saw in his mind, the one in the backward baseball cap, baggy jeans, and sweatshirt. That kid probably needed a basketball hoop at the very least.

Maybe he would put one up today, in the driveway over the garage. Luke smiled at the thought. He had wanted a basketball hoop when he was a kid, had in fact asked for one every Christmas for three straight years, until he had finally realized that his father didn't think much of sports or his desire to be an athlete. Books, college, and medicine had been his father's focus and in turn his focus.

He'd forgotten about basketball until now -- until Danny. The thought of having a son filled Luke with intense pleasure. He wanted Danny to know him, and he, in turn, wanted to know Danny. For that they would need time.

Danny simply had to get better. Then they would have a chance to be father and son -- if Jenny allowed it.

The rational part of Luke understood that he had hurt her, that she had retaliated by keeping Danny to herself. The irrational part of him was furious that she had never given him a chance to know his son, that now it might be too late to have the kind of relationship that both he and Danny deserved to have.

Jenny should have told him. Maybe not right away, but sometime during the past twelve years she should have come forward. They could have worked things out. They could have shared custody.

"Luke."

Luke turned toward the house as his wife walked out on the deck. She wore beige slacks, a forest green blouse, and a dark brown belt that emphasized her tiny waist and large breasts. She didn't look like a woman he could ask to hold a ladder while he put a basketball hoop up over the garage.

Denise kissed him on the mouth. Her lips lingered. Her fingernails grazed the back of his neck. She made it clear she wanted to prolong the kiss. He thought it might be a good idea. Maybe then, he could put Jenny out of his mind, remind himself that he was married.

But Denise's mouth didn't feel right. It didn't taste like honey and saltwater. Good Lord! How could he be remembering a kiss that happened thirteen years earlier when he had made love to Denise hundreds of times in their marriage? It was her scent that should be clinging to his mind, not Jenny's.

Luke lifted his head and took a deep breath. Denise gave him a quizzical look. "You're still angry?"

He shook his head.

"You got out of bed so early this morning. Maybe you should think about taking a nap -- with me."

Luke stepped back and leaned against the rail. "Why do I get the feeling that sleep is not what you have in mind?"

"We haven't been together in a while. You've been so busy."

She moved closer to him, playing with the collar of his shirt. Her fingernails were stark red, flamboyant, arrogant. Jenny's nails had been clear. Damn her. Why did she have to stick in his head?

"We have to talk, Denise."

Her lips turned into a pout. "I don't want to talk. And I don't want to argue." She stood on tiptoe and ran her tongue around the edge of his earlobe.

His body tightened at the motion. With a sudden decision, he put his arms around her and turned her face into his. He plunged his tongue into her mouth, frantic to find the passion that they had once had. He ran his hands down her arms, across her full breasts.

When he tugged at her belt buckle, Denise drew back. "Not here. In the bedroom," she murmured.

"Here, now." He kissed her again.

"Luke, please."

"We're alone for God's sake. Not even the housekeeper is here."

"We're outside. I don't like it outside."

Luke sighed, feeling the air go out of his body along with the tiny bit of desire he had drummed up.

Denise took his hand and tried to pull him into the house. He resisted. The impulse to make love to her had completely vanished.

Denise put her hands on her hips and looked at him with annoyance. "What on earth is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Then why are you acting so crazy?"

"Me?" he asked in amazement. "You just ruined a perfectly beautiful moment."

"You think I'm going to roll around on this deck with you? For heaven's sake. Aren't we a little more civilized than that?"

"You're right, we are too civilized for that. At least you are."

Denise threw up her hands. "I don't understand you anymore, Luke. Every day you draw further away from me. Tell me why. What have I done?"

His eyes narrowed in response.

"Besides that." She changed the subject. "Where did you go yesterday? You were gone for hours."

Luke hesitated. Here was his chance to tell her. What could he say? That his long, lost son had come home? Well, not exactly home, and not exactly to him. But that didn't matter. Denise wouldn't welcome the thought of him having a child. She would be horrified.

"Luke, talk to me," she said. "Don't shut me out. I deserve better than that."

"I don't know how to tell you this."

Her face whitened, and she tried to joke away her anxiety. "You sound so solemn. You're scaring me."

"I don't mean to, but this is difficult."

"Just say the words."

Luke took a deep breath. "A long time ago, before I went to medical school, before I met you, I was involved with a woman."

Denise put her hands over her ears.

"Denise, please. You asked."

"I know what you're going to say. It was that kid who came to our door."

"I think he may be my son."

"No," she cried. "No."

Luke grabbed her hands and pulled them away from her ears. "You have to listen to this."

"I don't want to."

"Danny, that's his name, was hurt in an automobile accident, Friday night. He's in critical condition. Yesterday, I went to the hospital to see him."

"Oh God." Denise sat down on a deck chair, visibly trembling. "Is he going to live?"

"They don't know. He's still unconscious."

"I see." She looked up at him. "And his mother -- the woman you were involved with -- did you see her, too?"

Luke nodded, his throat tight. "Yes. At first she told me that I wasn't the father, but as soon as I saw him, I knew the truth."

"Yes." She let out a breath. "I knew that, too, even before he said anything."

"Before?" Luke sat down across from her. "What did he say to you?"

"Just that he was your kid, and he wanted to see you."

"Why did you shut the door in his face?"

"Because, dammit, we were having a party."

His jaw dropped. "What the hell does that have to do with it?"

"We'd just had a fight about children. I didn't want to believe your son was standing on the doorstep. I wanted him to go away, and he did."

"Yes, he did. And on the way home he got hit by a car. If you'd only let him in ..." Luke ran a hand through his hair. "Why did you lie to me?" He laughed bitterly. "Because you always lie to me," he said, answering his own question.

"You're not blaming me for his accident?" Denise asked, straightening with anger. "I didn't do anything. He took me by surprise. How was I supposed to react?"

"Maybe with a little humanity, kindness."

"Is that what she's like, humane, kind, everything I'm not?" Her voice turned brittle. "Goodness, why on earth did you ever leave her?"

"Because I was going to medical school. My parents couldn't stand her. She didn't fit in."

A gleam of relief entered Denise's eyes. "Your parents didn't like her?"

"No. No woman measured up until you came along."

"For you, too, I hope?"

"I married you, didn't I?"

"Yes, you did do that." A silence fell between them. "What are you going to do?" Denise asked. "Did you tell Charles and Beverly before they left?"

"No. I wanted to tell you first."

"I see."

"Would you stop saying that?"

"I don't know what to say."

Luke stood up. "I'm going to the hospital."

"Can I come with you?"

"No." The word burst out of him before he could even think of accounting for Denise's feelings.

"Why not?" she asked, obviously wounded by his harshness.

"Danny is in intensive care. He's critical. Jenny and her family are distraught. They're already upset that I'm there."

"They didn't welcome you with open arms?"

"Why would they? I told Jenny to get an abortion."

Her eyes widened. "So I was right. You didn't want children."

"Not when I was twenty-two."

"Not when you were twenty-six either."

"I'm thirty-five now, Denise. People change. I've changed, can't you see that?"

She put her arms around his neck. "What I see is the man I married, the man I love and adore. I won't lose you, Luke. We'll get through this. We'll work it out. Maybe Danny can -- uh, visit us once in a while. You can get your fatherly fix."

Luke's temper flared at her choice of words. "I don't want to be a part-time father. I want to be full time. I want to know this kid. I want him to be a part of my life."

"Don't you mean our life?"

"Can you accept him, Denise?"

"Another woman's child as your son?" She shook her head in bewilderment. "It won't be easy, but I would try -- for your sake."

He softened at her tone. Maybe he was being too hard on her. "I'm sorry."