Whose Baby Part 17

The thumb came out. "But you're still mine, too."

Lynnwanted to make very, very sure Sh.e.l.ly believed her. "Forever and ever," she said strongly. "And Adam's still her daddy, no matter what."

Sh.e.l.ly nodded. "That's okay," she said matter-of-factly. "We can be sisters, just like you said. I like Rose."

"I know."Lynnhugged her and rocked gently. Sh.e.l.ly's eyelids grew heavy and at last her thumb fell from her mouth. Smiling and crying, just a little,Lynncarried her to bed.

Not three minutes later, she heard footsteps on the stairs and Adam appeared with Rose in his arms. With swift intensity, his gaze took inLynn's face, and she guessed that he saw the traces of tears. But she smiled.

"Hi. Did you guys have a good walk?"

Rose looked at her with vivid blue eyes. "Daddy says you're my mommy."

She smiled tremulously. "That's right."

"I never had a mommy before."

"I know."

"Can I call you Mommy?"

"You bet." Her heart sang.

"'kay." Rose wriggled. "I want down, Daddy."

He lowered her to the ground. She came toLynnand said sweetly, "Daddy says I should take a nap. DoIhafta ?" Laughing,Lynnwent to one knee in front of her. "Yep. Moms and Dads usually agree."

"p.o.o.p," she said succinctly.

"Come on."Lynnheld out her arms. Rose climbed trustingly into them. "Sh.e.l.ly's already asleep. Can you be really, really quiet, or would you rather nap in my bed?"

"Can I look at books if I nap in your bed?" "Why not?"Lynnsaid recklessly, not checking to see what Adam thought of the plan. "Your bed, please." Rose sounded prim. "Sleep tight, Zinnia," Adam said above her. "Daddy!" "Yeah, yeah. Rose." Her eyes misty,Lynnsmiled at him over their daughter's head as she stood. His answering smile was wry.

He knew what she felt, and felt the same. Today, they had gained something and lost something. Being an exclusive parent was heady. You were the whole world to your daughter. Now, suddenly, Rose and Sh.e.l.ly didn't have just a mommy or daddy. They had both. They had permission to love equally.

NowLynnhad Rose's soft arms around her neck, had her whisper, "I'm glad you're my mommy." In turn, she had to live with the small hurts inflicted when Sh.e.l.ly was fascinated by her real daddy, wanted him instead of Mommy.

But this was the way it should be,Lynnthought as she tucked Rose under the quilt on her bed, as she tiptoed into Sh.e.l.ly's rooms to snitch a stack of picture books for Rose to look at under the covers, as she kissed Rose's forehead and quietly slipped out of the room.

A family.

Anch.o.r.ed by a mommy and daddy who had never kissed, never shared a bed,didn't know each other's

birthdays. Weren't in love, never had been. Didn't know if they could be. ButLynntrusted Adam enough to know that she wasn't alone in hoping they would find love, inwanting to find it.

Today, she chose to be an optimist and believe they would.

Chapter 11.

Lynn's first officialact as Adam's wife might be the most difficult. She had to play gracious hostess to his first wife's parents. Knowing they must resent her taking their daughter's place, she had to understand and respect their grief.

Or perhaps, she thought with a small sigh as she checked the lasagna in the oven, Angela and Rob McCloskey would know perfectly well that they had no reason to resent her. She might be Mrs. Adam Landry in their daughter's place, but she hadn't replaced Jennifer in his heart and probably never would.

The girls were playing in Rose's bedroom when the doorbell rang. Suddenly fl.u.s.tered,Lynnpulled off her ap.r.o.n and hurried to the front door, meeting Adam in the foyer. On a wash of greetings, Adam waved them in. The night was wet and chilly, and even the dash from the car had left water beading on their hair and coats.

Jovial and bluff, Rob McCloskey was clearly a man's man, who looked as if he belonged out on the golf course with a foursome. His elegant wife gaveLynnan immediate pang, because Sh.e.l.ly might look like this when she was in her fifties.Lynncould see her in the shape of Angela McCloskey's face, the set of her eyes.Lynnheard her daughter in this stranger's musical voice.

The resemblance confirmed a truth that her heart didn't want to accept: Sh.e.l.ly wasn't really hers. She came from these people.Lynn's claim was emotional.

The introductions were cordial. Adam hung wet coats in the closet and ushered theMcCloskeys into the living room.Lynnsmiled because she didn't know what else to do.

"What can I get you?" Adam asked.

"White wine," his mother-in-law said with a pat on his arm. She then turned to studyLynnwith a thoroughness that might have seemed rude under other circ.u.mstances.

"I do see Rose. My dear, you have the same hair!"

"Youmean, the same impossible hair?"Lynnlaughed ruefully. "And I would have known you for Sh.e.l.ly's grandmother anywhere."

A crack in her smiling demeanor let pathetic eagerness show. "It's true, then? Adam said she looks like Jennifer."

The men were talking a few feet away.Lynnbit her lip and asked in a low voice, "He did warn you, then? From the pictures he's shown me of your daughter, the resemblance is uncanny. I didn't want you to be taken by surprise."

"He did, and we've been so excited about meeting Sh.e.l.ly. With our Jenny gone, you can't imagine how we felt when Adam told us Rose wasn't hers. Not that we don't love Rose. We do, of course. But Jennifer was our only child."

Hoping she sounded more comfortable than she felt,Lynnsaid, "Yes, Adam's told me. I know this must be very difficult for you."

Through a shimmer of tears, Angela McCloskey smiled radiantly. "Oh, it was! But now she's home. Oh!

Not that you didn't give her a home. But, oh, you know what I mean."

Lynnknew exactly what she meant. She chose her next words carefully. "I love Sh.e.l.ly dearly, although I admit that sometimes she's a mystery to me. Finding out she didn't carry my genes explained a few things.

She's so fearless! And a chatterbox."

"So was our Jenny. She was so sunny from the moment she was born. People adored her, you know!"

Lynnkept smiling, hard as it was. "I know Adam did."

Or should she saydoes?

"Well, where's our little girl?" Rob boomed.

"Why don't we go on up there?" Adam suggested, adding deliberately, "Rose is excited that you're coming."

"Rose is such a delight," Angela said confidingly, as Adam herded them toward the stairs. "What a gentle, sweet girl. Perhaps more like you."

Kindly phrased and meant, perhaps, butLynnhad the uneasy feeling she and her daughter both had just been d.a.m.ned with faint praise.

Lynnhung back as they neared the girls' open bedroom door.Please, please , she thought,don't scare Sh.e.l.ly. Don't hurt Rose.

"Girls," Adam said quietly, "your grandparents are here."

Drawn despite herself, a pedestrian to a car accident,Lynnfollowed the others into the bedroom, where the girls were plumbing the new dress-up boxLynnhad begun here.

Rose tried to scramble to her feet but teetered on her high heels. "Grandma. Grandpa."

Sh.e.l.ly had wrapped a purple feather boa around her neck. A glittery tiara tilted rakishly in her hair. She looked like a tiny, garish elf queen.

Staring up, she asked boldly, "Are you my grandma and grandpa?"

Angela McCloskey choked.Lynncouldn't see her face, but she knew tears must be streaming down it.

Lynnwas startled when Adam reached out and took her hand in a bruising grip as he watched the drama unfold. She hadn't even realized he'd dropped back to her side. Or had she come to his?

Rob McCloskey started to speak and had to clear his throat. "Yes," he said at last, thickly. "Yes, your mommy was our daughter."

"But my mommy's right there," Sh.e.l.ly began, but stopped as her forehead puckered. "Oh. You mean, the mommy who had me in her tummy."

"That's right," her grandfather said. "She was once our little girl. Our Jenny."

"Did she play dress-up, too?"

"Oh, yes." Angela knelt beside the trunk and reached in. Her voice was almost steady, but tears tracked mascara down her cheeks. "She was as pretty as you are."

"I'm a princess," Sh.e.l.ly said with satisfaction. Angela lifted out a filmy white shawl. "A very beautiful princess."

Quiet Rose burst out, "I'ma princess, too, Grandma." Her voice went very quiet. "Me, too."

Angela McCloskey wonLynn's liking and respect forever when she smiled through her tears and held out the shawl for Rose, not Sh.e.l.ly. "Of course you are! Our princess. And this is just what you need to finish your outfit."

Adam's fingers laced withLynn's and he drew her out into the hall. Gently he shut the bedroom door, leaving theMcCloskeys alone with their grand-daughters. Both their granddaughters.

And then he brushed his knuckles across his wife's cheek. They came away wet with her tears.

Adam pulled into his driveway, laptop and briefcase on the seat beside him, and felt like a Norman Rockwell man of the house: eager to throw open the front door to the delicious scent of dinner in the oven, hear the squeal of delight as his children raced to fling themselves at him, and kiss his wife's soft, demurely presented cheek.

He gave a grunt of amus.e.m.e.nt. The picture was surprisingly accurate except for the last part. So far, the only time he'd kissed his wife's cheek was at their wedding when the pastor said, "You may kiss the bride," and somehow she'd turned at just the right time so that their lips didn't meet.

But, d.a.m.n, he looked forward to getting home anyway, a pleasant change from the last difficult years. Instead of Rosebud being with him, slumped wearily in her car seat, thumb in her mouth, she was at home ready to dash to meet him with Sh.e.l.ly, her eyes bright, her face animated, her giggle floating behind like a vapor cloud.

Why hadn't he realized how much easier life was when you were married?

Or would be, he reflected, if theirs wasn't a commuter marriage. Today was good; tomorrow would be, too. Then he and Rose would be alone for two days, after which they'd pack up and make the too-familiar trek across the rollingCoastRangeto a first glimpse of the broadPacific Ocean, the constant throb of the surf, and the tiny apartment above the bookstore.

But, h.e.l.l, that wasn't so bad, either. The trip got old, sure. He wished the apartment was bigger. But even on rainy days, Adam liked to run on the beach in the early morning. In the short months he'd known Lynn, the bookstore had come to feel homey with its dark wood, bright book covers, playroom for children and the quiet talk in the background. He'd sit at a table with theNew York Times spread in front of him while the girls disappeared into the castle. He enjoyed watching Lynn greet people with her warm, gentle smile, guide them to a shelf, chat with them as if the conversation was the most fascinating of her day. When someone loved a book on her list of favorites, her face lit up with the joy of finding a kindred spirit. Days when she seemed unusually quiet, he was almost tempted to draw a lone shopper aside and whisper, "Tell that woman your favorite writer is E.B. White."

He had been surrept.i.tiously reading the man's essays and had discovered the charm. They were whimsical, sharp-witted,good -hearted: everything thatLynnwas and valued.

Tonight, in his lonely bed, Adam intended to start her favorite fantasy novel by an author named Robin McKinley. Reading the booksLynnadmired was a backdoor way to get to know her, but worth the effort. She was pa.s.sionate about reading and her children.

Adam was beginning to wish she was pa.s.sionate about him.

They had been married only a few weeks, and his good intentions and patience were eroding with stunning speed. Take tonight: he parked in the garage and went straight into the kitchen.

"I'm home," he said unnecessarily, becauseLynnwas already turning from the stove with a welcoming smile.

"Girls!" she called. "Dad's home!"

Feet thundered from the living room and he found himself enveloped in giggling little girls. He tossed them in turn into the air and rejoiced in the squealed "Daddy!" from both. Such a small word, to mean so much. Satisfied, they galloped away just as quickly, and he went toward his wife who was stirring something on the stove.

"Spaghetti," he said, seeing the bubbling sauce.

"Yes, I hope that's okay."

He didn't like it when she sounded anxious.

"I've told you. I'm not picky."

"That doesn't mean there aren't foods you hate," she said with some spirit.

The sauce smelled good, but he liked even better the clean citrus scent of her hair, caught in a ponytail today. Gorgeous as it was tumbling around her shoulders, Adam found her most irresistible when her hair was up, tiny tendrils escaping to draw his gaze to her slender neck. He wanted to kiss her nape in the worst way.

She stole a shy look at him and then ducked to clatter in the pan cupboard. "Let me get the spaghetti on," she said in a m.u.f.fled voice, "and we can eat in ten minutes."

What if he just kissed her? Was she shy because she wanted him to, or because she saw his intent in his eyes and it scared her?

Nothing in his experience told him how to handle this courtship. He knew how to romance a woman he was dating, although G.o.d knows it had been a long time since he'd done so seriously. ButLynnwas his wife. They were getting to know each other, developing a degree of comfort. What if he made an unwelcome advance and blew what progress they'd made?

Another difficulty was that he didn't want to be dishonest with her. He liked her, he found her to be s.e.xy as h.e.l.l. But he hadn't let go of his feelings for Jenny, and he didn't know if he ever could or wanted to.

Tenderness, liking, sparks between the covers he was hoping for all those this time around. But he was afraid that if he started bringing home roses,Lynnwould get the wrong idea.

Adam wasn't sure why that bothered him. He'dmarried her, for G.o.d's sake. He took the vows seriously. He wouldn't be unfaithful.