Jennifer Mikels - The Child She Always Wanted

He gave himself half an hour to nurse a couple of cups of coffee, shower and shave, then drove his truck down Main Street toward the Sea Siren to talk to his deckhand before he started his search.

Instead of going to the boat first, as he spotted Rachel’s van parked outside Benny’s Café, he negotiated the truck into an adjacent parking lot. No amount of avoidance would work. He parked his truck and strolled toward the café. Through its windows, he saw her.

Head bowed, she sat in one of the blue vinyl booths. As he opened the café door, the bell above it jingled. The café was decorated in blue and white. A breakfast crowd, mostly locals, occupied the stools at the counter and several tables. Heads swiveled toward Kane before he shut the door behind him. He received no nods of hello, no smiles. He never expected any.

People believed he was his father’s child, and Ian Riley had ranked low on everyone’s list of favorite people by the time he’d died. For good reasons, they’d claimed. He’d come to town, sweet-talked Kathleen Feenley, and got her pregnant. He’d ruined a good girl. But no one had really objected to him until he’d become an embarrassment, the town drunk. Then Kane had committed his own offense. He didn’t need their condemnations. He damned himself whenever he thought about Charlie’s last day.

Ignoring stares, he weaved a path around some tables to reach Rachel. Though no sun shone through the windows, she looked sunny. He figured it was a visual thing. She wore faded jeans and a bright yellow top that clung gently to the curves of her breasts. Because too many emotions remained close to the surface, he steeled himself when he saw sympathy in her expression. “Guess we need to talk.”

“Sometimes it’s difficult for me to believe Marnie’s gone,” she said with a world of hurt in her voice that made Kane certain she wasn’t giving lip service but was telling the truth. “This must be such a hard time for you.”

“A shock,” he said candidly. He figured that this woman, with her overabundance of kindness and too-caring manner, set herself up to be hurt easily. While he slid into the booth across from her, she angled to her left. Was the baby there? Was it a boy or girl? A girl. He recalled Rachel saying “she” when in need of a place to change the diaper.

“I—” She closed her mouth when Rosie Furnam, the oldest of the café’s waitresses, a grandmother with a love for gossip, came near.

“Do you want something?” She looked less than pleased.

Kane never ate in town, hadn’t for years since Charlie had died. For meals out, he would drive to one of the towns nearby. “Nothing.”

“More coffee?” she asked Rachel.

Briefly Rachel’s eyes met his before raising to Rosie’s questioning stare. “No, thank you.”

Kane waited until Rosie finally sauntered away. “Tell me what happened to my sister.”

Rachel explained what the doctors in the emergency room had told her.

No one’s fault. Those words gave Kane no comfort. He glanced at the wall of windows, away from the soft compassion in the green eyes studying him. He wanted none of it. “You handled the funeral, you said.”

As if it pained her, she avoided meeting his eyes. “We had a small memorial service.” She concentrated on the dark liquid in her cup. “Several people from the trailer court, and former co-workers came.”

He didn’t want to know the details. “Let me know how much I owe you.” When she raised her head, he sensed she planned a protest. “She was my sister.” My responsibility. Except he’d forgotten that, hadn’t he? “And if I owe you anything else—”

“Please. She was my friend.” Moisture glistened in her eyes. “A wonderful friend. I’d have done anything for her. I wanted her to go to the hospital.” She was rambling as if trying to understand what went wrong. “I had money saved. She could have gone.”

Despite years of separation, Kane knew his sister wouldn’t take a handout from anyone. He wasn’t sure she’d have even welcomed help from him. They’d had to accept too much charity as kids. “She always was stubborn. If she didn’t want to take your help, you couldn’t have done anything to change her mind.”

“Thank you. I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but—”

“I’m not doing anything,” he countered, because he wasn’t trying to offer comfort. Instinctively her chin rose a notch. Better she was offended. He didn’t need this woman as a friend. If she’d thought he planned to make this easy, she was wrong.

“I was telling the truth. Heather is Marnie’s,” she said softer as if suddenly aware how many people were staring at them.

“Marnie named her?” Less stunned, he admitted now that he really hadn’t doubted her. She’d have had no reason to lie about the baby, and like the death certificate for his sister, a birth certificate for the baby forced the truth on him.

“Heather was the name she’d said she liked best, the one I used for her baptism. Do you like it?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s fine. Who’s the father? He wasn’t named on the birth certificate.”

Rachel toyed with a spoon. “I really don’t know.”

“Why don’t you?” Settling back in the booth, he stretched denim-clad legs beneath the table. “You claim you and my sister were good friends.”

Inches from them, Rosie lingered at a table. Revealing discretion, Rachel waited for the waitress to move away. “We were. But Marnie never told me the father’s name. I asked, but she wouldn’t tell me.”

“How did you get the baby?”

“During her pregnancy, Marnie had written a note, had it notarized. It gave me temporary guardianship until Heather was with you. That protected her, kept her from falling into the system.” A slim, almost shy smile curved her lips. “I rushed here with her before anyone challenged the paper.”

He’d guess she was one of those honest-to-the-core people who didn’t even park illegally.

Her gaze shifted to the window. “The rain’s stopped.” Vacationers’ cars lined the town’s main street, bumper to bumper. Summer tourists ambled along the sidewalks now, drawn to the souvenir shops and art galleries.

Inside the café, they’d become the center of attention. Regulars at the counter stared their way. One of the waitresses cleared a table at a snail’s pace instead of getting an order to the cook’s counter. Kane thought the woman across from him needed to know. “Being with me isn’t the popular thing to do.”

Rachel met his stare with an equally steady one. “It never was. I was warned years ago to keep my distance from you.” She sounded slightly amused. “You were ‘the wild one,’” she said, a laugh definitely lacing her voice.

Eyes darted their way again. Questioning looks fixed on them when Rachel sounded as if she was having fun with Kane. As Rachel slid out of the booth, he expected one of the town’s do-gooders to rush over and deliver a warning about him. Bending forward, she grabbed the handle of the cushioned seat that held the baby and lifted it. Kane couldn’t see his sister’s child.

“I’m not fifteen now. I prefer to make my own judgments. I’ll see you at the house,” she said, loudly enough for everyone to hear.

He considered grabbing her arm, telling her there was no more to be said. But with her comment he imagined the shock rippling through the people seated at the tables and counter. If he caused a confrontation, he’d just make her grist for the gossip mill. He didn’t care what anyone thought, but he had enough guilt to bear without being responsible for the town ostracizing her for getting involved with him. No, thanks. He didn’t need any of this. His life had been simple, and he planned to keep it that way.