be back tomorrow, sport,” Douglas responded, and Merry was sure she heard a threat in his words.
“See my other car?” Tyler held out the car again, the sleeve riding up even farther, revealing more of the scar. Merry’s heart skipped a beat, then raced on, the sloshing pulse of it stealing her breath. If Douglas noticed the purplish mark, if he asked about it…
“Go to your room, Tyler William. This instant.” The sharp edge in her tone surprised Tyler as much as it surprised Merry, and he shot her a hurt look before trudging back to his room.
Great.
Could the day get any worse?
“He’s got a lot of energy,” Douglas said, and Merry braced herself for the questions she knew would come.
Because, of course, the day could get worse.
“That’s for sure.”
“He doesn’t look much like you.”
“He looks like his father.” It’s what she always said, and she assumed it was true.
“You were married?”
“No.”
“I see,” he said, and she was pretty sure he did see. All her half truths and evasions. Her way of living for four long years.
“If you don’t need anything else—”
“Do you share custody with Tyler’s father?” He cut her off, and she knew he’d go when he was ready. Not a minute sooner.
“He’s not in our life.” Stick to the truth. Keep it simple. Don’t offer more than what is asked for. Those were the rules she lived by, and she followed them as if her life depended on it.
Her life probably did depend on it.
“Has he ever been?”
Keep it simple.
“No.”
“Is there a reason for that?”
“Not one I want to share.”
“All right.” Douglas studied her intently, his eyes dusky blue, his expression unreadable, and she wondered what he did see.
More than she wanted him to.
Wasn’t that the reason why she’d told him things weren’t working out between them?
She had too many secrets, and he’d asked too many questions and lying to someone she respected and admired and wanted to get to know wasn’t something she’d been willing to do.
She still wasn’t willing to do it, but she couldn’t tell him the truth without losing everything she cared about most.
“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, lamely filling the silence.
“See you then,” he responded as he walked down the porch steps, zipping his bomber jacket against the cold.
He moved with an effortless confidence. Why wouldn’t he? He was a Fitzgerald in Fitzgerald Bay. Surrounded by family and love. Embraced by a community that knew and loved him.
Merry’s siblings were in Boston, and she couldn’t return there. Her mother and father had been gone for a decade.
All she had was her son and way too many secrets.
Sometimes, that made life a little lonelier than she wanted it to be.
Douglas tipped his hat as he got into his SUV, flashing the charming smile that had given him a reputation as the most eligible bachelor in town. Merry had heard plenty about his single status during her first months in Fitzgerald Bay. As a matter of fact, more than one of the older ladies in her Bible study had suggested that Douglas would be perfect husband and father material. Maybe that’s why she’d given into temptation and gone out with him. Or maybe she’d just been desperate to connect, to feel normal and unencumbered. To be young and carefree and filled with dreams.
Whatever the case, she’d made a mistake. She couldn’t afford to make another one. She closed the door, turning the bolt and setting the alarm, checking the windows and back door. Going through the ritual that had been part of her life for four years.
When she finished, she went into Tyler’s room, put her hand on his solid little shoulder. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, sweetie, but you need to obey me the first time. Not the second or third.”
“I’m sorry, too, Mommy. Next time I’ll listen better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, buried his face in her side. Precocious and busy, he had a sweet nature that made him very easy to love.
“Good. Now, give me a kiss, and then we’ll go down and have some dinner.”
“Kiss!” He pressed a kiss to her cheek, giggling as she tickled his belly.
“Let’s go.” She took his hand, and he bounced out of the room. Bounced down the steps. Bounced into the kitchen. Preschool teachers were already talking about attention deficit and hyperactivity. Very bright. Extremely likable. Too busy. Too active. Too talkative. The labels had been stamped on his forehead, and Merry knew they’d follow him into kindergarten in the fall. She’d been hoping that being in a small community, having friends and teachers who accepted him as he was would smooth the transition into school. That was one of the reasons she’d stayed in Fitzgerald Bay longer than she’d stayed anywhere since she’d left Boston.
“Is the policeman really gone?” Tyler asked, and Merry nodded.
“Yes.”
“But he’s coming back tomorrow?”
“That’s right. Only tomorrow, you’re not going to open the door for him. You’re going to let me do that.”
“But—”
“Tyler, it’s one of our rules that can’t be broken, remember? You are never to open the door unless I give you permission.” Because the thought of him opening the door for a stranger with his black eyes and deeply tanned complexion filled Merry with terror.
“I remember. I won’t open the door again. I promise.” He threw his arms around her waist, his chubby cheek pressed to her thigh.
“When you make a promise you have to keep it. Right?” Even if the promise costs you everything.
“Yes. Can I have a cookie?”
“After dinner.” Which couldn’t come soon enough. She needed time to think. Not easy to come by with Tyler awake and active. She wouldn’t have it any other way, though.
“When is dinner?”
“Soon.”
“Chicken nuggets?”
“Fish.”
“Yuck.”
