Letting Go (Healing Hearts) (12 page)

“You’re not his daddy!” Leanne screeched. “How dare you have him calling you that?” She turned and yelled at the curious spectators, “Quit gawking at me!”

Dave cringed as the onlookers ducked back inside their apartments.

Joey touched the side of Dave’s face, his lower lip trembling and hurt registering in his eyes. They seemed to cry, “Daddy, get me out of here.” Dave stared back, his heart filled with compassion. He couldn’t leave. At least, not yet.

A protective surge of energy jolted through him. “Who is his father?”

Leanne clamped her lips together, refusing to speak.

He lowered his voice. “You don’t know, do you? So what can it hurt if he calls me Daddy? Every little boy needs a father.”

The young woman backed up as if he’d slapped her. “I guess you’re right,” she grunted. “But don’t get his hopes up thinking you’ll be around forever, because you won’t be.”

“Please—”

She smiled provocatively, her eyes sparking as if she had a grand idea. “Unless you want to take on his mother too. You know, I kinda like you. You’re pretty hot.”

The last thing Dave wanted for a wife was someone as hardened as this troubled young woman obviously was. “Um, no thanks.”

“Then get away from me,” she sneered. Turning to Mrs. Vela, she ground through clenched teeth, “I don’t want to see that man when Little J visits me.”

His mouth gaping, Dave set Joey back down. Had he just ruined his chance to protect Joey during visits? What would this do to him?

Leanne squeezed her eyes shut and pointed at Dave. “Make him leave.”

Before Mrs. Vela had a chance to respond, Dave said angrily, “Fine. I’m leaving. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Good riddance.”

He turned to leave, but curiosity forced him to ask as nicely as he could, “What does the “J” in Joey’s name stand for?”

Joey latched on to Dave’s thighs, smashing his face against his father’s legs.

“Jerk. Because all men are jerks.” Leanne snickered. “So I named him after his dad, whoever he is. But you can call him Joey if you want. It was just a stupid joke. I didn’t think they would actually put it on his birth certificate. Stupid idiots don’t know a snarky comment when they hear one.”

This was worse than he had imagined. His former caseworker, Nancy, had warned him that contact with Joey’s birth mother might be challenging. He remembered her saying CPS had to give her a chance to prove herself, regardless of how awful she seemed.

“I can’t guarantee he’ll be okay with me leaving, but we can give it a try.”

Dave bent down and pried Joey’s arms off of his legs. He squatted down on his haunches to look Joey in the eyes.

“I want you to be nice to these ladies while Daddy goes to the store, okay? I’ll be back real soon. Behave, okay?”

“O-tay, Daddy.” Joey pushed his thumb back in his mouth as he gazed warily up at the women standing next to him.

Leanne plucked Joey’s thumb out of his mouth. “No son of mine is going to suck his thumb. That’s for babies.”

Joey wailed.

Dave stepped forward to intervene, but Mrs. Vela held her hand out to stop him. “Step back. I can handle this. I’ll see you in an hour. Go, or the next time you won’t come at all.”

Dave backed off, his heart breaking, and hurried to his car. Joey’s pitiful cries cut him to the quick. A sharp pain stabbed his heart as if someone had ripped it from his chest. Opening the driver’s door, he hopped into his vehicle before he broke down and cried or assaulted someone. When he drove off he refused to look back.

He didn’t make it far. He circled the block and started to drive back to the halfway house, but then turned down a different street, worried he’d be seen and get in more trouble. Frustration made him want to say every foul word he could think of.

When he stopped at the first traffic light, he hit the steering wheel with his palm several times. The pain of having to leave Joey with strangers hurt worse than the day he’d found out Merilee had died. He had to protect his son, but it seemed impossible.

He needed to find someone to talk to right away before he snapped. Saying a quick prayer, he headed straight for the church office, hoping that Pastor Lane would still be there. As he approached the parking lot he saw his pastor’s minivan parked near the office, and his heart lifted. But as he got closer, the minivan started backing out of the parking space. Dave cut it off at the entrance to the parking lot and hopped out, leaving his car running.

Pastor Lane got out of his van. “What’s going on? You look upset.”

“It was awful.” Dave choked on tears, trying hard not to cry. “What am I going to do?”

Pastor Lane pulled him into a crushing hug. Dave clung to him, weeping for the first time since Merilee passed away. He poured out his heart and the pastor wept with him. That meant more to Dave than any advice or an attempt to cheer him with false hope. His pastor prayed from his heart, and despite how hard some of it was to hear, Dave agreed with everything.

“You’re right. Thank you for reminding me that God is in control. I just wish He would fill me in on the details of His plan,” Dave said wistfully as he patted Pastor Lane’s arm. “Keep praying for Joey. I have a feeling this will be harder on him than it is on me.”

He got back into his BMW. Pastor Lane waved as Dave drove out of the church parking lot and onto the main road. The pastor’s encouragement and prayer had given him greater assurance that he could handle this challenge, but his confidence deflated when he arrived at the halfway house and heard Joey wailing.

The moment Joey saw him, his wailing turned into a gut-wrenching plea. “Daddy, up! Daddy, up!”

Joey tried to squirm out of his mother’s arms, fighting her with all his strength. She finally relented with a scowl and set him down.

Joey toddled toward him so fast that he stumbled. Dave caught him before he could skin his chin, scooping his little boy up into the air. Holding Joey above him, he rested the boy’s tummy on the top of his head and shook it. Joey gave the sweetest belly laugh Dave had ever heard.

Joey’s birth mother crossed her arms over her chest, pouting. “You think you’re so great just because you drive a Beamer? Well, that doesn’t mean squat to me. I’m his mother and if you think I’m giving up easily, you’ve got another think coming. He’s my son and I
will
get him back.” She stormed off, slamming the door behind her.

“What did I do? What’s going on with her?” Dave asked.

Mrs. Vela heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Mr. Passel, but from now on I’ll have to take Joey alone. She doesn’t want you coming along. She thinks he’ll do better if you aren’t around, and I have to agree with her. I’ll call before I come over to get him next week.”

“But what about what’s best for Joey?”

“Oh, I’m glad you mentioned that. She doesn’t want you calling him Joey anymore. She’s legally changing his name to Jack as soon as she can amend the birth certificate.”

Dave froze. Sheer terror pumped through his veins.

God is in control.

He hoped repeating the phrase would give him the strength to endure.
Oh, God, please tell me You know what You’re doing. I’ve never been so scared in my life. I don’t want to give Joey up. Please don’t make me.

Chapter 10

D
iane stood in the foyer near the front door of Rachel’s home. “Thanks for inviting me over for Christmas dinner. I really appreciate all you’ve done for me.”

“Hey, if I was recovering from surgery I’d want a maid to come clean my house. I would have done it myself, but since I’m about to have a baby I didn’t want to do anything to make me go into labor early.” Rachel laughed and patted her tummy.

Diane didn’t sense the usual harsh sting of jealousy when she thought about Rachel having a baby when Diane never would. Rachel deserved to be happy. She was such a good person.

Unlike me.

“Still, it was very thoughtful of you.”

“Not a problem. Now don’t forget the invitation to our house for New Year’s Eve. I don’t want you at home watching the ball drop in Times Square all by yourself when you can get together with friends to ring in the New Year.”

Rachel’s arms wrapped her in a warm hug. The baby in Rachel’s tummy nudged her, making them both giggle.

Diane stepped back and clutched her abdomen. “Ouch. It hurts to laugh.”

Rachel grinned. “Sorry. I’ll try not to amuse you until you’re feeling less sore. So are you planning on coming?”

“I’ll definitely think about it.”

Diane smiled, pleased at the invitation, but a bit reluctant to join the party. She didn’t want to impose on them because they felt obligated to befriend her. Memories of former holiday parties with her parents zipped through her mind. Her father ogling, touching her, lingering near.

Can I have this dance? Ah, look at you. So beautiful.

A shiver coursed through her, and she glanced at the floor for a moment to catch her breath. The frequent, unbidden flashbacks were starting to scare her.

“Are you cold? Do you need a jacket?” Rachel asked, wide-eyed with concern.

“No. I just remembered . . . something. I’ll be fine. I’ll call you and let you know if I can’t come. I’m still a bit sore, but I’ll try to make it.”

“Want to tell me what’s bothering you? Is it related to your surgery?”

“Everything about my surgery still bothers me, but no, that’s not it.”

“If you need to talk, I’m willing to listen.”

“No offense, Rachel, but I don’t think you’d understand.”

Rachel cocked her head. “Try me.”

Seeing the concern in her friend’s eyes, Diane said, “Okay, but don’t freak out on me. I’ve been remembering bits and pieces of my past. Most of my childhood memories are fuzzy and there are things I can’t remember. But lately I’ve had these weird thoughts and different memories keep entering my mind. None of them good.”

She stopped, surprised by her frank response. She never told people personal things about herself, and now she was baring her soul to Katia and Rachel, both nice women, but people she was still getting to know.

“You mean kind of like flashbacks?”

“I suppose that’s what they are, but I hear the voices. I don’t see anything.”

“What kinds of memories are they?”

“Mostly memories of pageants and parties, and of my dad. I keep hearing his voice in my mind saying things he told me when I was a child. It’s creepy, actually.”

“Do you miss him?”

Diane frowned and tossed away the notion with a flick of her wrist. “No. Are you kidding me?”

“Are you having trouble forgiving him for whatever he did to you?”

“Forgive him for what he did? I’ll never forgive him.”

Rachel touched Diane’s arm. “Oh, Diane. That’s so sad. If you don’t find a way to forgive him, you’ll only hurt yourself more. It will eat you up inside.”

Diane stared into Rachel’s eyes, so full of compassion. Maybe Rachel really did understand. She had also been hurt and abused by men in the past.

Diane’s mouth went dry, and she took a gulp of air. “I don’t want to talk about my father.”

“Sure. I understand.”

Diane reached for the door. “I better get going.”

Rachel called after her as she closed the door. “I’ll be expecting you at the party if you don’t call me.”

Diane responded with a limp wave and continued down the walk.

*   *   *

The week flew by. The next thing she knew, Diane stood on Rachel’s front porch for the New Year’s Eve party. She wore her favorite fur coat over an iridescent gold and green cocktail dress that matched the color of her eyes. The satin gown had a plunging neckline and transparent long sleeves. It barely touched the floor and hugged her curves in the most figure-flattering places, but it also drew attention to the eight extra pounds she’d gained since her surgery. She ran her hand over her stomach as she rang the bell.

Rachel’s husband, Scott, answered the door. “Diane, we’re happy you decided to come. You look gorgeous. Here, let me take your jacket.”

He helped her out of her coat and hung it in the closet. “Make yourself at home.”

Diane scoured the room for familiar faces. She saw several ladies from the women’s group who had visited her at the hospital sitting in the formal dining room. They smiled and waved.

Rachel stood in the corner by the fireplace in a stunning emerald-green velour gown that flattered her in spite of her huge abdomen. On her way to greet Rachel, Diane found her path blocked by a caterer offering appetizers, which she politely declined.

“Diane! I’m so glad you came.” Rachel enveloped her in a hug. Diane loved how Rachel always welcomed her as if it was a special event. “Here, let me introduce you to some of my friends.”

Diane followed Rachel around and accepted numerous handshakes. Some of the men followed her with their eyes or held her hand a bit longer than necessary. For her entire life she’d had male admirers, so she was used to the attention. But now that she could never have a child of her own, the appreciative stares annoyed more than flattered her. They reminded her of her inadequacy, of how she’d never be whole.

She pushed the depressing thoughts from her mind, determined to dwell on the positive. She refused to ring in the New Year with sadness. This year she intended to enjoy herself, even sober and without a date.

She caught an occasional smile from an eligible-looking bachelor and even a few men who had dates hanging on their arm. None of the available men stirred her blood, but she made polite conversation anyway.

The night dragged on. She stood against a wall in the living room, clicking her freshly manicured nails on her empty crystal goblet. A few minutes before the Times Square ball was due to drop, a young man caught her attention. He looked vaguely familiar, and his eyes brightened as if he recognized her.

It was the young man from the hospital psychiatric ward. The intern she had flirted with so shamelessly.

Her breath caught as he smiled flirtatiously and headed toward her. She slipped into the next room, hoping to hide from him in the crowd.

“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one . . . Happy New Year!” everyone shouted in unison. Men grabbed their dates and gave them enthusiastic kisses.

Diane glanced around the room. The intern was nowhere in sight. With a sigh, she watched as lovers kissed. A pit-sized lump clogged her throat. She felt lost and very awkward without a date. She always had a date. Why had she come alone?

Turning, she found two admiring men standing behind her, one in a tuxedo and another dressed in an ordinary suit. Neither spoke to her or made a move. Though she found neither attractive, she thought about announcing that she didn’t bite, just to be funny. But for once she couldn’t muster the courage to speak her mind.

Someone wearing a bit too much cologne grabbed her arm. She gasped. Turning, she came face to face with the intern.

His gaze lingered on her dress, and he chuckled. “Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous.” His voice was low and husky, and his gaze locked on her lips.

She stiffened and tried to pull free. He had seen her at her absolute worst, and she was overcome with embarrassment. Swallowing hard, she stared into his eyes as his mouth hovered dangerously close to her lips.

“How about finishing what you started, honey, and give me a New Year’s kiss,” he murmured.

“Excuse me.” Rachel tugged on Diane’s sleeve.

Diane exhaled. “I’ve gotta go.”

“Wait, Diane. I was kidding. I just want to talk.”

She refused to look back and pushed through the crowd on Rachel’s heels. When they entered the hallway Rachel turned around.

“I noticed that Rob’s been watching you for a while so I thought I’d better interrupt. He’s a slippery guy and has a bit of a reputation for coming on to the ladies. My understanding is he’s engaged to be married, but his fiancée is at home with the flu.”

Nausea swept over Diane, and she stepped back. Not again.

“Are you okay?”

Diane shook her head and raked her fingers through her hair, pulling her bangs away from her face.

Rachel leaned into Diane’s line of vision. “I only broke in because you looked really uncomfortable with him.”

“I can protect myself.”

Rachel offered a weak grin. “I’m sure you can. I just thought I’d help.”

Diane raised one eyebrow. “Next time please ask me first.”

Rachel’s forehead pulled into a slight frown. “Are you mad that I interrupted you?”

Diane shook her head and smirked. “No, not really. You’re right. I didn’t want to talk to him.” Rubbing her forehead, she sighed. “I’m sorry if I sounded ungrateful. I don’t mean to be so touchy.”

“That’s okay. If you ever want the scoop on any of the single guys that work at the hospital, just ask me and I’ll see what I can find out for you.” Rachel winked.

Diane bit her lower lip. Rachel’s comment brought an ache to her heart, and she didn’t even know why. She blinked tears away.

“I’m not looking for anyone.”

Rachel cringed and shifted on her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply . . . ”

Diane cleared her throat so her voice wouldn’t shake. “Don’t worry about it.” She looked toward the front door. “I think I’m going to head on home. I’m tired.”

“Sure. Thanks for coming, Diane. I’m glad you were able to join us.”

Diane nodded and cast her gaze down as she hurried toward the front door. On her way to get her coat she stumbled into a man in a black suit holding a young boy with rosy cheeks.

“I’m so sorry.” As she pushed away from him, the clean scent of his soap grabbed her senses. A surge of warmth shot through her.

She caught his gaze and lost her voice. Gorgeous, warm honey-brown eyes stared back at her, flashing with amusement. A broad grin spread over his ruggedly handsome face.

“It’s no biggie, eh, son?” He winked at Diane, and then gazed with obvious adoration at the child in his arms.

His little boy’s eyes drooped, and his head bobbed. Resting on his father’s shoulder, the toddler burrowed into him, tenaciously sucking on his thumb.

She didn’t remember seeing any other kids other than Rachel’s son. So where had this man come from?