The Bad Son. Linda Warren
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Macy frowned. “Deal?”
“No questions, because you wouldn’t like the answers.”
What was Delia up to? Be patient. “Do you know the sex of the baby?”
“A girl.”
“A little girl. How nice.” Warm, precious memories surfaced and she quickly forced them away.
“You would say that.” Delia pushed to her feet, her hands rubbing her back. “God, my back is killing me. Do you have any pain pills? I could use something, the stronger the better.”
“You shouldn’t take anything without a doctor’s advice. It could hurt the baby.” Her patience ran out and she couldn’t stop the censure in her voice.
“Don’t tell me what to do. That’s what I hate about you—you’re always trying to run my life.”
Macy sucked in a deep breath. “It’s for your own good. You have to think about the baby. I’ll give you a massage, that will help to calm you.”
“Go to hell,” Delia said in anger, then waddled to the stairs and soon Macy heard a door slam.
Macy sat there for a moment. Like Beau had said, Delia had been living on her own for a long time and there wasn’t much she could do. But an innocent baby was involved. That’s what got Macy the most—the baby. Who was going to love her, care for her and give her a home? She didn’t think Delia was capable of doing any of those things. No, she corrected herself. She knew Delia wasn’t capable of doing any of those things.
Before she could change her mind, she picked up the phone and called her mother. Irene wasn’t too concerned.
“Macy, I’m not sure what you expect me to do. Delia has made it very clear that she doesn’t want me to interfere in her life.”
“What about the baby?”
There was a long pause, then her mother replied, “That’s Delia’s responsibility.”
“I see.”
“Macy, you know how Delia is. She won’t listen to me or take her meds. I’ve been through hell with her and I’m not putting myself through that again.”
“Okay. I just wanted to let you know that you’re going to be a grandmother.” Saying that, she hung up and realized she was trembling. And she was angry.
That anger driving her, she phoned her father, something she wouldn’t normally do. Ever since he’d walked out on their mother, Macy had a hard time talking to him. But this was important.
His wife answered and tension coiled inside her at the thought of her father’s new life. A life that neither Macy nor Delia had a part in. It was hard to get past the resentment, but she kept trying. Soon her father was on the line. His response was the same as her mother’s.
“Delia never listens to me. There’s nothing I can do.”
She gritted her teeth. “I just thought you might like to know.”
“Macy…”
She hung up, not wanting to hear anything else. She had to take several deep breaths to calm herself. Picking up Freckles, she walked to the window. It was dark, but from the streetlight she saw Beau jog by.
Beau usually asked her to run with him. Why hadn’t he tonight? Because of Delia—that had to be it. Beau had seemed different earlier. He didn’t have a lot to say and he usually told her all about his business trips. Maybe he was just tired.
Dear, sweet Beau—her knight in shining armor. When everyone else in her life had let her down, Beau was always there. He’d been her best friend forever. She wondered what he’d say if she told him that she’d had a gigantic crush on him when she was a teenager. She and his younger brother, Caleb, were the same age and she’d make all kinds of excuses to see Caleb in the hopes of seeing Beau.
When Beau went to college, he lived in the dorm and when she’d spot his car at home she made sure she got to see him. Then she started college, then nursing school and met Allen. They dated but he graduated and moved on to a job in Baltimore. He worked for a large drug company and a year later they met again and renewed their relationship. Soon they were in love and planning a future. She forgot about Beau and her silly crush.
But at the wedding, when Beau had wished them well, for a brief moment she remembered thinking it could have been you. Because he was older, she was sure he only saw her as the kid down the street.
And she’d thought that Allen was the answer to all her dreams. He wasn’t—far from it. She shuddered and forced herself not to remember. Not tonight.
Fate had landed her and Beau in condos next to each other. It had been a big surprise when they realized they were neighbors again. That had been seven years ago. And not once in all those years had either of them crossed the line of friendship. At times, she wanted to and she couldn’t explain why she hadn’t. She wasn’t a kid anymore, but she sometimes wondered if Beau still saw her that way. She was an adult woman and a part of her needed more. Beau never seemed inclined to change their relationship. That was fine with her. Their friendship was more important.
Was that it? Was it safer as friends? That way she could never be hurt again. She nuzzled Freckles. With animals it was so simple. You shower them with love and attention and they return it tenfold. There were no feelings of rejection—the way it should be with humans.
She’d given her father her love and he’d walked out on them without one word of explanation. He wasn’t happy. Big deal. She never would understand that. How could a man turn his back on his wife? His daughters?
Allen had done the same thing, she reminded herself. He’d left, but at least she’d known why. She was less than perfect and he didn’t want a flawed wife. Tears stung her eyes and she resolutely refused to cry.
Freckles purred and she cuddled her. Would she ever trust a man again? Probably not. But she trusted Beau. That felt strange to her, especially since she’d sworn off men for the rest of her life. Beau was different, though. She knew him inside and out and he was wonderful and nice and sometimes too damn handsome for his own good. He made her laugh and he made her feel good about herself. Then why had she never told him that?
Fear. Like monsters under the bed. You know they’re not there, but when it’s dark and the silence mingles with your breath, your mind believes. If she told Beau her true feelings, the light would come on and expose her for the woman she was. A woman a husband couldn’t love. A young girl a father couldn’t love. She couldn’t take anymore rejections—especially not from Beau.
So where did that leave them? Friends.
As that thought warmed her heart, Beau jogged to his condo. She watched until he disappeared up the walk. Sweat poured down his face and his breathing was labored. She didn’t need to be close to him to know that. That’s the way he was every time they ran and she teased him about his age. He teased her about her frizzy hair. They laughed a lot. Macy needed that and a part of her knew that she needed Beau.
Would