Barbara Freethy - Some Kind Of Wonderful (28 page)
"Sure, later. After all, I live just across the hall. We're neighbors,
remember?" The reality of her words cut through him like a
knife. With Emily gone, would they be anything else except neighbors?
Shaking his head, he returned to his apartment to find Sarah crying
over Emily. "Is she okay?" he asked worriedly.
"I got her to sleep," Sarah said.
Matt sensed this was a victory for Sarah, and he could hardly blame her
for feeling jubilant.
"You should be smiling then, because getting your
daughter to sleep is an amazing accomplishment. Believe me, I know."
"She cried with you, too?"
"All the time. Frankly, I think she likes the sound of her own voice."
"I thought it was just me. And I felt so alone."
"Didn't you have any friends you could talk to?"
"No. We moved around a lot."
"What were you doing with a creep like that anyway?" He held up a hand.
"Never mind about that.
We have a lot of catching up to do."
"Are you sure you want to? I realize I didn't give you a choice when I
left Emily with you. And I wondered afterwards if you were sorry I'd
tracked you down, if you wished I'd stayed gone."
"Are you kidding? I've spent the last thirteen years wondering what
happened to you, worrying if you were happy or safe or in trouble. I
tried to find you a dozen times, hired private investigators, but I
couldn't get a clue. Where did you go? Where have you been living all
these years? Were you adopted? Did they take good care of you?" The
questions shot out like bullets from a gun. "Sorry," Matt said hastily.
"I didn't mean to sound like an interrogator. I just can't quite
believe you're standing in front of me."
"I didn't know you were looking for me. I thought you were angry with
me for starting the fire, for burning us out of the only home we had."
"I shouldn't have said that. You were a little girl. You didn't know
what you were doing."
Jonathan cleared his throat, and the minister and Sarah exchanged a
look that set Mart's curiosity
on edge.
"Am I missing something?" Matt asked.
"I'm going to leave you and your brother to talk," Jonathan said,
getting to his feet. "All right, Sarah?"
"You're leaving?" she asked in dismay, the same dismay Matt had felt
with Caitlyn's departure.
"You have a lot to discuss. Why don't you call me when you're done or
if you want to come home."
"Home? Where is home?" Matt caught a slightly guilty look in Jonathan's
eyes. "She's been staying
with you and your wife?"
"I'm not married, and she's been staying in the guest bedroom at my
house. Although we have made arrangements for Sarah and Emily to stay
at a transitional home beginning on Monday." Jonathan met Matt's gaze
head-on, as if he had nothing to hide. Matt still wondered if there was
more going on
between the minister and his sister than met the eye. But
it was just another question he had in a very long list, and he had to
take them one at a time.
Jonathan walked over to Sarah and squeezed her hand. "You have more
courage and strength than you know. That's what brought you here.
Listen to your heart. It won't steer you wrong."
Matt saw a nervous gleam in Sarah's eyes after Jonathan left the room.
"Well, it's just the two of us
again. Amazing. Oh, wait a second. .."
He walked into his bedroom and returned with the gold chain
he'd found
at her apartment. "I think this is yours."
Sarah's mouth trembled as she took the heart necklace out of his hand.
"I couldn't find it when I left.
I wanted to look for it, but I was
afraid to take the time."
"I'm glad you kept it all these years. Now, tell me, are you really all
right?" He searched her eyes for the truth. Sarah wasn't as easy to
read as Caitlyn. There were dark shadows in her eyes, shadows of pain,
betrayal, and the sadness he remembered. But her eyes were also clear
and alert, no trace of drugs or confusion. She looked like a woman who
knew what she wanted.
"I'm fine now that I'm holding Emily again."
"You can put her down. Or at least sit down; she gets heavy after a
while."
Sarah took his advice and sat down on the couch, settling Emily more
comfortably in her arms.
"She's the best thing I ever did," she
murmured, looking from the baby to Matt. "And I want her to
have a good
life, better than the one I had."
"What happened to you, Sarah? Where did they take you after the fire?"
"They took me to a foster home, the Rodgcrs. They were okay They had a
bunch of foster kids.
I stayed there for about four months."
"Then what?" She looked away, and he didn't like her expression. His
stomach muscles tightened to
the point that he thought he might get
sick.
"Mama came to the school one day and told me we were going to be
together again."
Matt felt his heart stop. "Mama came back for you?"
"She told me we would get you, too, but we never did."
"'Do you think she tried?" Matt tried to stop the question from sliding
out of his mouth, but he couldn't.
Sarah's eyes turned more sorrowful. "I don't think so, Mattie. She said
you always reminded her of Daddy and that made her sad. She also said
you'd criticize her, and you were
almost a man anyway.
You didn't need a mother."
Matt had to turn away as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. It
shouldn't matter that his mother had gone back for Sarah and not for
him. He'd always known she disliked him for criticizing her. Not
that
there hadn't been plenty to criticize. But still, he was her son. And
he could have helped. He could have taken care of Sarah.
"Maybe I shouldn't have told you."
He took in a breath and let it out, wondering how many more shocks were
headed his way. It had been
a hell of a morning. "You caught me by
surprise. I thought our mother had disappeared forever."
"No. We went to Sacramento after that. Mama found a new boyfriend. His
name was Tommy. He just ignored me, but that was okay, because the next
guy ..." She licked her lips. "Well, there were others,
lots of others.
We moved around all the time, L.A., Las Vegas, Reno, then back to
Sacramento. When
I was sixteen she left and never came back." She
paused. "I used to think you were old, Mattie, but I realized later on
that you were just a kid like me."
"I'm not sure either one of us was a kid. What happened to you after
she left?"
"I stayed with friends, some girlfriends, some boyfriends," she added,
looking into his eyes with shame.
"I saw how Mama had survived, and I
copied her."
He shook his head, feeling so much anger, so much regret, he couldn't
even speak.
"That's when I first realized how much like her I was," Sarah
continued. "And when I had Emily, I got scared. I was afraid I would
lose control like Mama did. I can still hear her that night, the
yelling, the screaming, the scraping of those matches against the box,
the sparks crackling, the smoke
blowing
through the air."
"What are you talking about?" he demanded, suddenly afraid he knew
where this was going.
"The fire," she said, meeting his gaze head-on. "Mama started the fire."
"No!" He shook his head. "No. She wouldn't have tried to hurt you."
"I was bad, Mattie. I played with her matches."
"Oh, my God!" He put a hand to his mouth, feeling sick to his stomach
and sick at heart. All these
years he'd thought Sarah had started the
fire, but instead she'd watched their mother try to burn
down their
life.
"She was sorry, though. She told me later she was sorry and that she
wouldn't do it again. But. .."
"But what?"
"She started other fires, here and there, mostly small ones, I think,
but I never knew when I heard the
fire engines nearby if Mama was
involved. Once I asked her. and she got all guilty looking and said
she
always felt better when the flames were dancing."
He stared into his sister's eyes and realized that she'd suffered far
more than he had. "Do you know where she is now?" he asked, suddenly
remembering the woman he'd seen earlier that morning in the hospital.
Sarah visibly stiffened. "I don't know. I thought for a long time she
was probably dead. But last week
and this morning I saw someone who
reminded me of her. It was so odd."
"Me, too," he said in a rush. "In the hospital."
"Yes, in the hospital," Sarah agreed. "And by the church."
"And in our old neighborhood. She looked like a homeless person. She
was carrying a watering can and—"
"Wearing a straw hat like the one she used to wear when the sun was too
bright for her pale skin. She hated to burn."
Their eyes connected, their expressions mirroring each other's.
"Do you think that was really her?" Sarah asked.
"I couldn't see her face. I tried to catch up to her, but she
disappeared."
"I lost her, too."
Matt blinked, another oddity suddenly registering in his brain. "You
were at the hospital this morning? Why?"
"Jonathan took me to talk to a psychiatrist friend of his. She helped
me to see that I might be suffering from post-partum depression and
that I might not be like Mama."
"You're not," Matt said forcefully. "You're nothing like her. You
aren't high, for one. You don't do
drugs, do you?"
"No, never, honestly. I used to drink, though, but I stopped when I got
pregnant. Gary thought I was
a big drag. I know I should have left him,
but it was easier to stay than go. He wasn't bad all the time. And I
didn't really think I deserved better."
"You do, a lot better."
"Mama made me feel like we were trash. She only came and got me because
it was easier for her to
get welfare with a kid. She used me, Mattie. I
don't want to do the same thing to Emily. I'd rather give her up than
raise her the way we were raised."
Matt let out a breath, his mind reeling with her story. He still
couldn't believe she'd been with their
mother for such a long time.
He'd thought they'd all been split up, but he had been the only one on
his own. Maybe he'd actually drawn the long straw and never known it.
"I don't know if you can believe me," Sarah said. "But I'm going to get
my act together."
"I believe you," he said. "And I can help you." He could protect her
now the way he hadn't been able
to protect her before. "You and Emily
can stay with me," he said decisively, feeling better now that he was
taking charge.
Sarah hesitated. "Maybe for a few days, Mattie, but come Monday I'm
moving into the transitional
home Jonathan found for me."
"But why? I can take care of you."
"I know, but I need to take care of myself and my baby. I can't keep
drifting from one man to the next, always looking for someone to solve
something for me. If I'm going to be a good mother, I need to
solve my
own problems. It's not that I'm not grateful. I know you could be
really mad at me for
dumping Emily on you. I'll try to pay you back."
"That's not necessary. Emily brought you back to me. That's all I ever
wanted."
Her mouth turned down as she struggled for composure, reminding him of
how Emily looked before
she burst into tears.
"Whoa." he said quickly, not sure he could take any more water works
today. "Don't get all mushy
on me."
She gave him a watery smile. "I don't deserve you."
"Hell, you deserve more than me. I let you down before by not believing
in you. That won't happen again."
"I feel so much better. No more running away, Mattie. I know that now.
I won't repeat Mama's
mistakes. She told me once right before she left
that last time that she'd never known what to do with
us after Daddy
died. And that sometimes she'd look up in the sky and wonder if he was
watching her
and if he was sad because she was screwing up so bad. It
was one of the few times she seemed really clear and really sorry. And
she said. Someday you'll be happy, Sarah. Someday you and Mattie will
be together,
and you'll be happy. She left the next day and I never saw her again.
After that I drifted into living her life, but that's over. I'm going
to live the rest of my life differently. And I'm starting now."
He liked her positive attitude. "I'll be right behind you every step of
the way."
"Thanks." She studied him for a moment. "Your friend, Caitlyn—she's
nice."
"Very nice."
"But she doesn't like me."
"It's not that. She became attached to Emily. It's hard for her to let
go. But she'll come around."
At least he hoped she would. Because it
would be hard enough saying good-bye to Emily without
saying good-bye
to Caitlyn, too.
twenty-two
Later that afternoon Caitlyn picked up the phone and dialed. "Mom,"
she whispered. Her voice was shaky, her insides still in turmoil from
watching her future evaporate before her very eyes. She'd tried
to talk
herself into a better mood most of the day but the pain wouldn't go
away, and she couldn't take
it anymore.
"Caitlyn? What's wrong? I can hardly hear you.'"
"Emily is going back to her mother," Caitlyn said with a sob.
"Is that bad?" Marilyn asked after a long pause.
"She's not going to be my baby. I'm not going to be her mother." The
realizations poured out of her mouth, each one hurting her heart a
little more.
"Oh, honey, I didn't know you'd gotten so close."
"I'm never going to have children," Caitlyn said baldly. It wasn't the
way she'd intended to tell her
mother, but it came out, just like that.
The words she'd been hiding for a year and a half had come
out in a
rush.
"That's not true, Caitlyn, You'll have a baby of your own one day. You
can have one with Brian.
Or if you really don't want him, with someone
else."
"You don't understand, Mom. You have to listen really carefully right
now, because I don't think I can say this again. I can't ever have
children." Caitlyn let the words sink in. "The accident crushed my
ovaries. There was permanent damage. I wanted to tell you before, but I
couldn't." She closed her
eyes and tried to prepare herself for her
mother's reaction.
"My God, Caitlyn. Why didn't you say something? Are you sure?"
"I'm positive. I'm sorry, but you're not going to be a grandmother."
The tears ran down her cheeks.
"I can't believe it."
"You have to believe it, because it's true."
Silence filled the phone line. "Well. Well," her mother said finally.
"Don't say you'll fix it, because you can't," Caitlyn said, trying to
ward off any suggestions. "No one
can fix this."
"What do you want me to say?" Marilyn asked cautiously, as mother and
daughter waded into
unfamiliar territory.
"Nothing. I just want you . . ." Caitlyn drew in a deep breath. "I just
want you to be my mom."
"I'm coming over. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."
"What about your classes?"
"They can wait. My daughter needs me."
And she did. Caitlyn hung up the phone and rested her head on her arms.
A few minutes later she heard
a knock on her door. She knew it was too
soon for her mother to have traveled across town. That left Brian or
Matt, and she didn't feel in the mood to talk to either one of them.
She'd just let whoever it was knock. She wasn't going to answer the
door. No good ever came of
opening that door. She'd learned that the
hard way.
"Caitlyn, come on, open up. I know you're in there," Matt shouted,
knocking relentlessly against the
door frame.
Caitlyn put her hands over her ears, trying desperately to ignore him.
She didn't want to talk to him,
didn't want to see him, didn't want to
hear anything about him or Sarah or Emily, about the family he would
have without her.
"I'm not like Brian. You can't just tell me to go and I'll go. I'm not
leaving." The pounding began again, beating in time with the pain in
her head. Finally, she got up and opened the door.
"What do you want?"
He stared at her, then reached out his hand to touch her face. She
jerked away; she couldn't help it.
The thought of his touch was too
painful.
"I wanted to make sure you're all right."
"I'm fine. Any other questions before you go?"
"Just one." He put his hands on her waist and yanked her up hard
against his chest, crushing her mouth with his. She tried to resist
him, but his kiss was like a steamroller, knocking every piece of her
resistance out of the way.
"Stop," she gasped, breaking away from him.
"I'm not the enemy. Why are you treating me like one?"
"You are the enemy," she cried. "You made me believe in the impossible.
You made me feel things
I didn't want to feel. You melted the ice
around my heart, and then you broke it."
"I didn't mean to. You knew Emily had to go back to her mother. You
knew that."
"But I was her mother this past week. I was there with her, with you,
on the roof, in the car, at the Emergency Room. And now
I just have to back off and say good-bye and pretend I don't love her."
Her voice broke. "But I do love her, Matt. I love her like she was my
own baby. And I have to watch some other woman take my place."
"Not some other woman, her mother. Her mother, Caitlyn." He gave her a
little shake. "Emily needs Sarah."
"I know that. I know," she added when he didn't look like he believed
her. "It still hurts."
"Let me help you with the hurt."
"You can't."
"Just because Emily goes back to Sarah doesn't mean you and I aren't..
."
He hesitated for a second too long, a very telling second. "Aren't
what?" she asked. "Aren't neighbors? Friends? Lovers? What am I to you,
Matt? What am I to you without Emily between us? Well, I'll tell you
what I am—I'm nothing. The only reason you crossed that hallway was to
get a baby-sitter. Now
you don't have a baby. You don't have a reason
to come over here."
"That may be how it started, but that's not how it is now, and you know
it." His eyes narrowed.
"You're looking for a reason to push me out
that door. Just like you did with Brian."
"This is not the same thing."
"This is exactly the same thing. You want me to tell you it was
nothing. Is that how you feel. Caitlyn? Because what am I to you
without a baby attached? Answer me that. Do you want me at all if I
can't offer you a child to take care of?"
"That's not fair."
"Life isn't fair. You of all people should have figured that out."
"I think I hate you," she said with all the passion in her soul.
Because she didn't just hate him, she
loved him. And she hated
him even more because of that.
"When you're sure, let me know. For what it's worth, you were
everything, neighbor, friend, lover... everything. But I don't have a
baby to offer you. So if I'm not enough, then I'm not enough."
"And I don't have a baby to offer you," she said, her heart ripping in
two.
"I don't have to have children."
"Don't lie to me, Matt. I saw you with Emily. I saw you acting like a
father. I saw you falling in love
with that baby. I didn't go there
alone; you went with me." And she saw the answering truth in his eyes.
"But the difference is, you can have a baby with someone else. And you
should. Because you would make .. ." She stumbled over the words. "You
would make one hell of a father."
"Caitlyn—"
"Go home, Matt. I can't do this anymore." And she shut the door in his
face, putting him where he
should have been all along, on his side of
the hallway.