Authors: Karen Rose Smith
He looked taken aback for a moment. "So you want Ryan to suffer as you did?"
Max had the power to rattle her the way no one else could. "I'm
not
Ryan's mother. And it's not good for him to pretend I am."
Max cocked his head and studied her for a moment. "You think that's what he's doing?"
All the defensiveness she'd felt when Max attacked her deflated and she was left with confusion. "I don't know. But if he is, it's got to stop. I won't be helping him, I'll be hurting him. Maybe I've hurt him already."
Where Max's advance before had been quick and angry, it was now slow and cautious. "You can't believe loving him is hurting him."
"I'm saying his depending on me might be."
Max eyed her curiously. "What else is going on, Tessa?"
"I don't know what you mean." She lowered her head a fraction so she wasn't meeting his probing regard. Sliding around on the bed, she shuffled her notes into a neat pile.
"You're a lousy liar." Max rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You were jittery when we talked to Mrs. Bartlett. You couldn't sit still or get out of that school fast enough. Was school difficult for you?"
He was stabbing in the dark. But she knew how unremittingly persistent Max could be. "We all have rough years."
He wouldn't accept the generality. Before she could take a breath, he stood beside the bed...beside her. "Which year was rough for you? Second grade, like Ryan? Third? Seventh?"
The papers on the bed next to her became all important. "I'd rather not discuss it."
His large, warm hand came down on her shoulder. "Look at me, Tessa." When she didn't, he said gently, "You have to stop running from things you don't want to see."
Now
she looked at him, filled with resentment and pain. "What do
you
know about it? Why do you think you know how I should live my life?"
He crouched down in front of her, much as he would with Ryan. "What
don't
I know? Tell me."
Suddenly she was swept back into being a seven-year-old again, sitting in that echoing hallway while the principal tried to call her mother—the mother she'd never see again. Her hands trembled and she closed them into fists.
Max covered both of her hands with one of his. "Tessa?"
The gentleness and caring in his voice undid her. "My mother left me at the school. She dropped me off in the morning and she never came back." Tessa wouldn't open her eyes because she didn't want to see Max's pity. She didn't need pity. She never had.
Stroking her hair away from her forehead, Max pushed it behind her ear. "And the rest of your school life reminded you of that day."
She nodded and swallowed the lump in her throat. "Until college. Everything was new there. I felt I could really start to be somebody important, not different. My profs accepted me for who I was, not what I came from."
"You
are
somebody important—somebody special."
Her eyes grew moist. More than anything she wanted to burrow into Max's arms and let him hold her. But they were too volatile together now. "I don't want to hurt Ryan."
Max's hand kept comforting, stroking, soothing. "Then tell him the truth."
She reared back away from his touch. "About my mother?"
Ryan called from his room, "Dad! Tessa! I'm ready."
Max rose to his feet. "It'll help him understand if you decide not to go."
Tessa started practicing what she'd say in her head because she knew Max was right.
***
The Pilgrims stood on one side of the long table on the stage, the Native Americans on the other. Ryan, as leader for the Pilgrims, crossed to the Chief and extended his hand in friendship.
Max's arm nudged Tessa's shoulder and she could feel him leaning forward to watch more intently. He made her feel safe and protected sitting here, and for a good part of the last hour, memories had washed over her not causing their usual pain.
Tessa had briefly explained to Ryan about her mother leaving her in a school and not coming back. She'd told him how she felt unhappy and sad whenever she entered a school. His eyes had grown huge and round, and she'd thought she'd seen questions there. But he didn't ask any. He'd said quietly, "You don't have to come if it makes you feel bad." It was as if he understood with the wisdom of someone much older. Then and there she'd decided going to his pageant was the best thing she could do for him to show him that her love for him could overcome the past hurts.
And it had.
She gazed around again at the audience in the auditorium. Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. People she'd longed for in her life. Yet, seeing the families together now didn't hurt so much. Tessa watched a toddler two rows in front of her as the child laid her head on her mother's shoulder and popped her thumb into her mouth.
Tessa had never thought about having children. Her own childhood had been so unhappy. And she'd dismissed marriage. With her career, it would be impossible, wouldn't it? Yet the past few weeks, living with Max, taking care of Ryan, she could almost envision it.
As the Pilgrims and Native Americans shared a feast on the stage, Tessa realized Ryan loved her unconditionally. She also realized something else that made her shake in her shoes. She'd love to be his mother. More and more, she felt as if she belonged here. Could loving Max assuage the feeling of apartness she'd always experienced? Dare she love Max when he'd belonged to Leslie? Did he feel anything for her besides physical attraction? Sometimes he was so understanding, so gentle... But then, that was Max. He'd act that way toward any woman.
Exactly what was she contemplating? Changing the life she led? Didn't she want to travel? Fly to exciting new places? Did she dare think about a life with Max?
Thank goodness she was going to New York this weekend. Maybe she could get some perspective away from here.
Chapter Twelve
On Friday evening, Max and Ryan gazed inside the glass and chrome jewelry case in the New Haven department store. Max remembered the chain around Tessa's neck when she'd shown him her mother's ring. It had looked old and worn. The chain he spotted inside this case was shiny, fourteen carat and sparkling as it caught and reflected the light.
"When are we gonna give Tessa her presents?" Ryan asked as he pressed his nose up against the glass case.
"When she gets back on Sunday."
"She marked it on the calendar so I'd know she was coming home that day for sure." Ryan's hands joined his nose on the glass. "I miss her."
Max couldn't believe how much he did, too. He'd picked up Ryan at the sitter and they'd come home to an empty house. It was an odd feeling. For the past month, Tessa had been there every day. Some days she was cooking, some days on the phone, some days typing on her laptop. But she'd always been there.
"Dad, Tessa's gonna have her birthday alone."
"When she gets back, we can have a cake."
"But her birthday's
tomorrow
. She'll be all alone."
The idea didn't sit well with Max, either, especially after Tessa's latest revelation about her childhood. He crouched down beside Ryan as he always did when he wanted to talk to his son about something important. "What do you think about me going to New York and keeping Tessa company?"
Ryan forgot the jewelry in the case and turned toward Max.
"I can't go?"
"New York is mostly for grown-ups. But they do have a museum with dinosaur bones. Maybe another weekend you and I could go look at them."
Ryan scrubbed the toe of his sneaker against the tile floor. "What are you and Tessa gonna do?"
"Probably get all dressed up and go to dinner."
Ryan wrinkled his nose in distaste. Then he said thoughtfully, "New York's not very far away. Tessa showed me on the computer."
"Not too far. Only about two hours."
Ryan thought about it. "I think you oughta go and make sure..."
"What?"
Ryan ducked his chin. "Nothin'."
"Ryan, you're sure it's okay with you if I go?"
"Can Flo and Scruffy come over?"
"We can ask."
Ryan took a few moments to decide. "Yeah, you go and bring Tessa home soon."
***
Tessa sat in the most luxurious suite of the best hotel in New York City. Linc Granger always reserved the best.
They were sitting in the sunken living room area on the beige and blue beautifully covered yet comfortable furniture. Linc’s wife Emma was sitting on the plush carpet with her daughter helping Becky dress an American Girl doll. "She loved the store," Emma said. "I think she would have spent all day there."
Emma was a pretty woman. Since she married Linc, she had a glow about her that made her absolutely stunning. And Linc… He was staring at her and Becky as if they were his world.
"Talk shop if you want, " Emma said. "I don’t mind. Who have you interviewed lately that I might know?" she asked Tessa.
Tessa remembered her interview with Emma and the distress Emma had been experiencing at the time when her sister had disappeared. That had been an emotional interview watched by millions of viewers. Emma had been honest and straight forward and the hearts of the television public had gone out to her. Now she looked peaceful and so happy.
"Well…," Tessa drawled. "I interviewed the First Lady. Does that count?"
Emma laughed. "A little. Did it air yet?"
"No. Another month. After the Summit in Oslo."
Becky tugged on her mom’s arm. "Does this look good?" She’d wrapped a stole around her doll’s shoulders.
"That looks wonderful. Maybe you’ll be a dress designer some day."
Becky shook her head and glanced at Linc. "Daddy says I’m gonna be an engineer and build bridges!"
A proud smile curved Linc’s mouth. "I guess you have to keep your options open. Engineer or designer. That’s a tough choice."
Becky stood and ran over to him, crawling up on the sofa beside him with her doll. "I’m hungry. Can we eat now?"
Linc cuddled her under his arm. "As soon as we decide what we want. Though I guess you want a burger."
Becky thought about it and nodded. "And fries."
"And something green or orange that might be good for you," Emma added.
The five-year-old wrinkled her nose. "Okay."
Something about sitting here in the midst of this family made Tessa’s chest tighten like it did when she was with Ryan and Max.