Winnie folded her hands in front of her so tightly they hurt. “I thought you didn’t want me here?”
The kid blushed. “I guess it’s okay if you hang around.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks. But…” Her heart cowered. “I think I’ve changed my mind. So I’m probably leaving in the morning.”
“But you’ll come back, right?”
“Oh, sugar…” Don’t, she thought, blinking back tears. Don’t…
Slowly, she shook her head, startled out of her wits when a hurt, angry “Fine! Do whatever you want to!” exploded out of the kid’s mouth, at the precise moment they both heard his father’s barked, “Robbie! What in the devil’s name are you doing here?”
Winnie jumped to her feet as Robbie started, just as Aidan emerged from the woods at the side of the house. And even through unshed tears, Winnie could tell he was one seriously pissed hombre.
Aidan barely caught Winnie’s surreptitious swipe at her eyes before he refocused his attention on his son, who looked more confused than guilty.
“Nothin’. I just…” He glanced at Winnie, then back at Aidan. “I just wanted to find out who she was, that’s all—”
“It’s okay,” Winnie started to say, but Aidan shot her a quelling look that, amazingly, actually shut her up. Then he looked back at Robbie.
“You know better than t’go anywhere without first checking in with Florita or me,” he said quietly. “Flo was beside herself with worry. So you get yourself back up to the house, right now. And except to go to school, don’t plan on leaving it for at least t’ree days.”
“Dad!”
“Go on.”
Grumbling, the lad took off; when he’d disappeared from sight, Winnie said, “That was a little harsh, wasn’t it?”
Aidan pivoted, almost grateful for a reason to be angry with her. “For breaking the one rule Junie and I insisted on from the time he could walk? I don’t think so. And where d’you get off criticizing my decisions?”
She dug in her pants pocket for a tissue, blew her nose. “Sorry,” she mumbled into the tissue, then crossed her arms. “You’re right, it’s not my place. Although if you notice I didn’t say anything in front of R-Robbie.”
Aidan looked away. “I suppose I should be grateful for that, at least.”
“Yes, you should,” she said, sounding stronger. “I swear I had no idea you didn’t know where he was—”
“And didja think I would have allowed him to come here?”
“How the hell should I know, Mr. Come Up to the House For Dinner Tonight—?”
“Didja tell him?”
“That I was his birth mother? Of course not,” she said in the manner of a woman who’s had it up to here. “I’m not that stupid. Or selfish. Or a liar. I said I wouldn’t say anything, and I didn’t. Besides, if I had, don’t you think that would’ve been the first thing out of his mouth when he saw you?”
“But he said—”
“He asked who I was. So I told him my name, I didn’t figure that could hurt anything. Especially since you told me he didn’t know.” Although she appeared to have recovered her equilibrium, her body language positively screamed her turmoil. An intuition confirmed when she added, “Maybe dinner tonight’s not such a good idea.”
“And here you’d sworn you’d changed,” Aidan said over an unaccountable surge of anger.
Her eyes widened, until, suddenly, he saw realization dawn. “I honestly didn’t think I’d feel any real connection,” she said in quiet amazement, looking away. “Not after all these years. And certainly not after two short conversations. ” She swiped a hand across her nose. “So, yeah, I guess I’m right back where I was eight and a half years ago.” Her eyes veered to his. “He’s a really great kid.”
Aidan swallowed. “You can thank June for that.”
She studied him for such a long time his face began to heat. “I wish I’d known her better.”
“You had your chance.”
“I know,” Winnie said softly, then released a breath. “I’m leaving in the morning. I won’t bother you again.”
The rush of relief wasn’t nearly as sweet as he might have expected. But then, nothing was these days. And probably never would be again, he thought as she added, “If Robbie wants to see me when he’s older—”
“How will you explain?”
“That we’ve already met? I don’t know.” She forked her bangs off her forehead. “If I’m lucky, maybe it won’t matter by then.” A chagrined half smile touched her mouth. “Sorry for the trouble.”
Unable to speak for reasons he couldn’t fully explain, Aidan simply nodded, then turned toward the path. He’d been so thrown, when he’d discovered Robbie’d gone missing, that he’d taken off on foot without thinking. Now he faced one helluva hike back up the mountain—
He frowned, noticing the pumpkins lined up on the porch. Not as many as June would have gathered, but enough to prick the treacherously thin membrane containing the memories. He twisted back around. “Did Robbie say anything else? Aside from asking who you were?”
Winnie gave him a strange look. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Neither do I, really. It’s just…I don’t know what he’s thinking anymore—”
The words had fallen from his mouth without his brain even giving a nod of approval. As if Winnie herself had somehow pulled them out of him. But that was crazy. Impossible. His gaze shifted again to the pumpkins, glowing in the last rush of daylight, and he could have sworn he saw faces in them already. Or at least, one face in particular—
“If you want to know what we talked about,” Winnie said softly, “maybe you should ask him yourself.” Then she disappeared inside the house before he could say, Have a safe trip.
Not that he would have, but he would have liked the chance.
That distant rooster’s crow keeping her company, Winnie thunked yet another pumpkin into the truck bed the next morning, her stomach none too chipper about the carton of Snickers ice cream she’d forced into it the night before in some lame attempt to staunch the ache. And not just for herself, or even the child she’d given up the right to call her son years before, but for the agony in Aidan’s eyes. The fear, that having already lost his wife, he might lose his child, as well.
Even if she doubted he knew that’s what he was feeling. But he was definitely aware of the communication break-down. He just didn’t know what to do about it.
Oh, and like you do?
Winnie
