There, she’d said it. Meggie held her breath.
“Oh, baby, of course I want you—always.” Michelle pulled Meggie off the counter and into her arms, just like the day Jessie got lost at Disneyland and Michelle held Allie all close. “But don’t give up on your daddy yet, okay?” she asked. “I think he wants you three more than anyone else in the whole world.”
Meggie laid her head on Michelle’s shoulder, hugging her as tight as she could. She sure hoped Michelle was right.
* * *
I
T
WASN
’
T
GOING
TO
WORK
. Jacob looked at Ellen’s smiling face on the dance floor and knew there was no way he could reconcile with her. She was having the time of her life in this swank nightclub. He’d much rather be at home with the girls. It didn’t matter that they were sound asleep in their beds; he just liked having them close. Taking a sip of his drink, he raised his glass in a toast as Ellen glanced over at him. She’d had more partners among this Saturday-night crowd than he could count, and he didn’t even care.
She’d tried several times to get him to dance, but he hadn’t wanted to join her on the crowded floor. Not that he minded dancing, as long as he was partnering the right woman.
And there was the crux of his problem. He couldn’t marry Ellen when he was in love with another woman. Not even for his girls, though he had a feeling they weren’t going to suffer overly much without their birth mother. Eventually they were going to figure out that Ellen’s main interest was in him, anyway.
“It’s great out there. You sure you won’t change your mind and join me?” Ellen asked, sliding into her chair. She’d chosen their secluded table when they’d first arrived, and now Jacob was thankful for the privacy.
“I’m sure. Why don’t you sit this one out, have a drink, catch your breath.”
Why don’t you sit still for a moment so I can get this over with?
She smiled at him, leaning back in her seat. “You’ve always been so solicitous, Jacob. It’s one of the things I missed most about you when I left for Washington.”
That was his opening. “Speaking of which, have you thought any more about that job offer you’ve had?”
She frowned at him. “Well, I kind of thought that was a decision we might make together,” she said. She was pouting, just like Jessie did when she didn’t get her way.
“What you do with your career is something you’re going to have to decide on your own, honey. You’re the one who has to work at it.”
She leaned forward, sliding her hand across the table to cover his. “There’s plenty of time to make those decisions later, don’t you think? I didn’t plan to go right back to work if we remarried.”
His eyes narrowed. “You thought you might stay home with the girls for a while? Make up for lost time?” Had he misjudged her so completely?
She sat back. “I’ll spend time with them, sure. But I’ve already been approached about resuming my old positions on the charity boards. It seems they miss my organizational skills.”
“So things would be just like they were before. You running off here and there, or frustrated with the girls because they kept you from running here and there.”
“No! I’m older now, Jacob. And so are they. I’m a lot more tolerant, and they’re hardly likely to need as much of my time as they did when they were three.”
He drained his glass. “That’s the problem, Ellen. The girls don’t deserve to be tolerated—they deserve to be loved. And while I’ll grant you their needs are different now that they’re older, they still have needs. The next time they have a mother, it’s going to be someone who’d rather carve a pumpkin than play bridge, who’d willingly give up tickets to the ballet to string popcorn for the Christmas tree—and who won’t yell at them for messing up their clothes when they go skating in the park.”
Ellen’s face hardened, reminding him of the many times they’d argued in the past. “You’re living in the Dark Ages, Jacob. Women aren’t satisfied with baking cookies and wiping noses anymore. They have careers. They have equality. They have nannies to help them raise their children.”
Jacob thought of Michelle, his partner, who didn’t hesitate to work nights to finish four beautiful little ball gowns. “And who do you think those nannies are, Ellen, if not women who find satisfaction in baking and mothering?”
Ellen’s look was sincere as she leaned toward him. “They’re career women, too, Jacob. They’re making a living, probably the only way they know how, but at least they have the satisfaction of earning a paycheck each week. You’re looking for something that just doesn’t exist anymore. You want a woman of the fifties, someone from the days of
Leave It to Beaver
and
The Donna Reed Show.
You want someone who’ll be happy to be at the beck and call of your children, run your household, still look good when you come home from work and do it all for love. You didn’t have that growing up, so you think you’re going to make up for that by providing it for our kids. But you’re not being fair. Women aren’t expected to live like that anymore.”
Jacob digested Ellen’s words in silence. A lot of what she said was true—but not all of it. He was happy to share in every bit of the work involved in caring for his home and children. But he did want a woman who would put family above everything else in her life. He did expect too much. But he couldn’t seem to be satisfied with less.
“Which is exactly why I’m all done asking others to live up to my expectations,” he said.
Ellen sat back in her chair. “What are you saying?”
“I don’t think it’s going to work between us any better the second time than it did the first, honey.”
Her smile was poignant, regretful, but just a little bit relieved. “That’s your last word?” she asked.
Jacob nodded. This was one thing he was sure about.
* * *
T
HE
GIRLS
WERE
ASLEEP
when Jacob got home an hour later. He locked up the cottage and tried not to notice the silence surrounding him. If he was destined to live the rest of his life alone, so be it.
Stealing into the triplets’ bedroom, he picked up Jessie’s teddy bear from the floor, tucked it back under her covers and kissed her gently on the brow. He hoped she never got too old to be his baby.
Allie was lying flat on her back, the covers up to her chin. Jacob bent to kiss her good-night, loving the strength he saw in her young face, even in sleep. A few more years, and he wasn’t going to have to worry about being lonely. Allie would organize his life for him, just as she was already doing for her sisters.
Meggie’s leg was hanging off the side of her bed, and Jacob slid it back beneath the covers. Some difficult times lay ahead for all of them these next few years, but he suspected they would be the hardest for Meggie. She was so determined to be independent, but after seeing her open up to Michelle, he knew she was the one who missed having a mother most of all.
But maybe he could do something about that. He kissed Meggie good-night, then left the girls and headed down the hall to his bedroom, remembering something Ellen had said weeks before. She’d accused him of giving up too easily. She might as well have called him the coward that he was. Maybe the reason he didn’t know how to be satisfied with less was that he’d never hung in there long enough to try.
There was no doubt in his mind that Michelle cared about him. But more importantly he was certain of her attachment to his girls. Yet as usual he’d asked too much of her. He hadn’t been satisfied to have her in his life as a mother figure to his children. No, he’d expected her to want to be a wife to him, as well.
Maybe it was time to try to settle for less. If Michelle only offered him friendship, so be it. He’d be a fool not to take what he
could
get. And he’d been a fool long enough.
* * *
M
EGGIE
’
S
PLEA
for acceptance haunted Michelle all weekend. The children needed her. So what was she going to do about it? She’d assured the triplets of her love many times over the past couple of months, but now, as she lay in her bed watching the sun come up on a new day, she realized she’d only been mouthing words.
Afraid of where her thoughts were taking her—of the jumble of emotions twisting her stomach into knots—she got up and showered. But as hard as she tried to concentrate on her routine, to plan the day ahead, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from straying to the three little girls who needed her, and the man who’d fathered them.
Allie, Jessie and Meggie needed a mother. She’d been telling herself there was nothing she could do about that, but she knew in her heart that there was. The girls needed someone who enjoyed being with them, who considered herself lucky to see to their needs, who loved them. They needed
her.
Michelle had run long enough. It was time to do more than proclaim she loved the Ryans. It was time to do something about it. That thought brought on the biggest panic attack she’d ever had in her life. Right there in the shower her skin turned cold and then hot and she was afraid she was going to pass out.
But suddenly as she leaned against the shower stall telling herself to breathe, she finally faced the truth she’d been hiding from for months. It wasn’t guilt or loyalty to her husband that was keeping her from loving Jacob; it was plain old fear. She was afraid—no, she was terrified—to love again, to open herself up to the possibility of the pain that went hand in hand with trusting her heart to someone else.
Turning off the water, Michelle dried herself and slipped into the first clothes she came across. Fear had robbed her of five years of her life. Looking back, she didn’t know when her love for Brian had faded, to be replaced by cowardice. Her emotions had been frozen for so long she supposed she’d never know. But if she was half the woman she thought she was, her days of running were over. It was long past time to get on with her life.
* * *
T
HERE
WAS
SOMETHING
different about Michelle on Monday. Jacob noticed the change as soon as he walked into the sound booth. Although she greeted him normally she looked as if she was on the verge of a grin.
At first he thought she’d heard from Brian—that her husband was finally coming home to her—and hated himself for wishing it was anything but that. He loved Michelle. He wanted her to be happy. But still, as the morning wore on and she said nothing, the relief he felt was immense. If Brian Colby was on his way home, Michelle wouldn’t keep it a secret.
She didn’t sit still once all morning. Her fingers fluttered through program sheets, newspapers, CDs and AP bulletins. When she reached up to punch off her mike after announcing a commercial break about an hour into the show, she knocked over her diet soda in her eagerness. Fortunately there hadn’t been much in the cup.
“What is it with you?” Jacob asked, half amused, half exasperated. She reminded him of Jessie on the day before Christmas.
She glanced over at him, that grin still hovering on her lips. “Nothing,” she said cheerily, picking up her cup. “Want me to warm yours? Your coffee, I mean.”
Jacob slid his mug across the counter. “Sure,” he said, watching her through narrowed eyes. Her cheeks were flooded with color. He wasn’t used to seeing Michelle flustered. Something was definitely up. And she obviously wasn’t going to tell him what until she was good and ready.
He’d planned on talking to her about Ellen after the show that morning. He was all set to lay his cards on the table, to tell Michelle she was welcome to be a member of their family free of charge, no marriage vows required. He’d thought about little else all weekend. The way he figured it, divorced people shared parenting all the time—so why couldn’t he and Michelle? They’d even have the added benefit of not having the bitterness of a divorce between them.
“Here you go, all nice and hot.” She breezed back into the room carrying two cups. One was filled with diet soda. The other one she set down in front of Jacob.
“Thanks,” he said, pushing the mug aside. Maybe he’d better wait to have his talk with Michelle. What he had to say was important, and he wanted her to be all there for the conversation. He didn’t know where she was this morning, but it definitely wasn’t at KOLR. She’d just brought him someone else’s coffee mug. He wondered where his Number One Dad mug had ended up.
Michelle grew more jittery as the morning wore on, but the couple of times he brought it to her attention she denied acting out of the ordinary. He segued into their last commercial, determined to pin her down to an explanation as soon as the show was over. He glanced her way, intending to tell her just that as she reached for a CD. She wasn’t wearing her wedding ring.
Jacob froze as he stared at her bare left hand, telling himself not to make too much of it, just as the commercial came to an end. He was supposed to cue in the last song of the show. He reached automatically for his mike button, still staring at Michelle’s hand. He was almost afraid to look up, to look into her eyes, for fear of what might
not
be there.
“Welcome back…” She was speaking into her mike. Jacob’s gaze flew to hers.
What are you doing, Michelle? Don’t you know I’ve got the last cue in front of me?