Lois Richer - Past Secrets, Present Love

“You need to sit down.” He guided her back into the den, helped her into a chair. “Better?”

She shook her head “yes” once, but that changed to a violent “no” as she lurched to her feet and headed out of the room as if on fire.

“She’s sick. I’ll look after her,” the cop told him calmly, then followed Kelly.

Left on his own, Ross paced the den for several minutes, wondering why she’d suddenly become so sick. Probably the gingersnaps, he decided with a grimace. That particular cookie had never been one of his favorites, though in his childhood years he’d never had a choice between the kinds of cookies he’d enjoyed. He’d considered it a good day if there was bread in the house. Treats of any kind were a luxury.

He wasn’t sure how long he waited until Kelly returned. She was whiter than cotton wool and her eyes were glossy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice wobbly. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t feel very well. I think I’ll go to bed.”

“Probably the best thing,” he agreed. “Now that you’ve got—” he glanced at the cop standing nearby, raised one eyebrow, her name forgotten in the excitement.

“Glynis,” she supplied.

“Now that you’ve got Glynis here, I guess I’d better go, too. Take it easy, okay? If you don’t feel better tomorrow, we can cancel.”

“You wish!” A bit of her fighting spirit had returned to those expressive eyes and Ross was glad to see it.

“No, I don’t wish. I think I might even be looking forward to it.” Which was more truth than she needed to hear. But the simple fact was, something about Kelly Young made him want to stick around.

She nodded, but her skin was turning that sickly shade of green again and Ross figured this was a great time to get out. He headed for the door, grabbed his coat, slid on his shoes and waved a hand.

“Take care.”

“Yes. Thank you for everything.”

A moment later Glynis closed the door behind him. He walked into the chilly night air, climbed into his car and revved the engine, hoping it would warm soon and send out some heat. He decided to visit Sandra. She’d want to know what happened and he needed to see her, to let her know he’d told Kelly the truth.

He wouldn’t explain that Kelly had been less than ecstatic about meeting her birth mother. Later, of course. But not now, not tonight. Tonight he just wanted Sandra to know that her daughter, Kelly, knew she had a mother nearby.

The streets were deserted and Ross made good time. He’d phoned Sandra on his cell to make sure she was up to receiving guests and learned she’d been sitting by the phone, waiting and wondering. Several minutes later he pulled up in front of her pretty little house and walked up to the door. She opened it before he could knock, her face brimming with questions.

“How did it go?” Sandra asked after she’d hugged him. He’d begun to enjoy those bursts of affection she showered on him.

“Kelly was surprised but I think she took it okay.” He’d already decided not to tell Sandra about the rest of the events that night. She would only worry. “She’s going to need a bit of time to absorb it all.”

“Of course.” Sandra perched on the edge of the piano bench and knotted her fingers together. “Did she seem upset?”

Ross chose his words carefully.

“Not upset. But it’s hard for her to understand. I think she’s fighting her feelings, as if getting to know her birth mother means somehow betraying her adoptive mother. When I told her you’d been pressured to give her away, she was pretty amazed.”

“Shocked, you mean. I don’t blame her. I’ve wondered for years how I could have let him talk me into it.” Sandra jumped to her feet. “I think I’ll make some tea. And I’ve got a piece of pie for you. I brought it back from the diner.”

“No, thanks, Sandra. Nothing for me. Please.” He rose and grasped her hands when they would have reached to fill the kettle. “You need to rest. Come and sit down,” he cajoled. “Stop fussing over me and take some time to let things sink in.”

Sandra had pushed her way through the cancer treatments with a will and determination Ross admired. She’d come through like a trooper, was on the mend now. But he’d glimpsed those times when she sagged from her battle against the deadly disease. He’d seen firsthand how her need to seem all right in front of her staff and customers at the diner had left her sapped of energy when she came home where no one could see. He was prepared to argue with her now if it would make her conserve whatever strength she could muster for what might lay ahead. Emotionally she was needy. What happened with Kelly could drain her and make her physical recovery more difficult.

Ross led her to the nearest easy chair, waited until she was seated, then pulled up a footstool and sat down in front of her. He took her hands in his.

“You had a baby girl, a daughter,” he murmured, knowing she hadn’t yet begun to absorb that detail, though he’d told her about the DNA results hours ago.

“I know. A girl named Kelly.” Tears rushed to her eyes and she dashed them away. “And such a pretty girl. Did you notice her hair? Those streaks—gold and silver and bronze, all mixed up together. I used to try so hard to get my hair those exact shades when I was her age. Of course hairdressers didn’t do highlights nearly as well back then and my parents condemned me for coloring my hair, but still…” She stretched a hand to the area just above her ear, rubbed her fingers against the downy tendrils that had begun re-growing after her chemo treatments.

“Kelly is as beautiful as her mother,” he murmured, his heart pinching at the soft sheen of love that radiated from Sandra’s pretty face. “She has to love you, Sandra. She won’t be able to help it. Just give her time.”

“You’re so sweet to me, Ross.” She enveloped him in another tight hug, then leaned back and pinched his cheek. “Why hasn’t some smart woman snapped you up?”

He didn’t want to hurt her, so he laughed, drew away. “Because I’m smarter and besides, I don’t want to be snapped.”

“Don’t you believe in marriage, Ross?”

“Not the ones I’ve seen,” he muttered, keeping his face averted as he thought of his alcoholic parents and their notorious brawls.

“Then you haven’t seen the right ones. Marriage can and should be a true meeting of two minds, not to force one to be like the other, but to complement each other. The wife a blessing to her husband and vice versa.”

He grinned. “How’d you become such an expert?”

“Watching my own parents.” Sandra smiled at the memory. “They had this bond that made them complete. I always wanted what they had. Sometimes I felt a little bit left out because their world seemed complete when they had each other. Maybe that’s why I tried so hard to find love, maybe that’s what scared away—” She stopped, peered up at him. “Never mind.”

“You were going to say that’s what drove him away, weren’t you?” He shook his head. “It isn’t. He was a cheater before you met him, Sandra. Men like that feed on women who trust them. He was a creep. The fact that he made you believe you had to give away your baby only proves it.”

“He told me she was with a family in California.” She struggled to keep her voice even. “He claimed she had everything a child could need.”

“Well, we know the Youngs did live in California for a while. You couldn’t have known they’d move back here when she was just a few years old.” He chewed his bottom lip. “For the rest of it—I think Kelly did have everything she needed. She speaks of the Youngs with great love. You must have known them so you’d know how they were with her.”