Mixed Blessings. Cathy Marie Hake

Cuddling Ricky closer, Peter grabbed another olive and did the same to Luke. All three of them laughed. If it’s so cute, why do I want to cry?

      Peter looked at her and raised his brows. “What were you going to say?”

      “I know I said it before,” she whispered, “but this is even harder than I thought it was going to be.”

      His smile faded. “We have to work together, Marie…for their sakes.”

      “I know.”

      He shook his head. “It’s so hard to believe. We’ve got a lot to do.” He accepted a carrot from Ricky. “First off, I—”

      “I think,” she interrupted, “we’d be wise to not make any immediate decisions. It’s going to be complicated. Can’t we please have today to just share our sons?”

      “That would be easier if you’d change your plan to flit out of here.”

      She tried to calm down with a sip of iced tea, but it didn’t help. Her hand shook as she set the crystal goblet back down on the table. “Mr. Hallock—”

      “Peter. It seems crazy to be formal when we’re going to be sharing kids.”

      Marie dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Peter, I learned about this a week ago. The first day, I was in shock. You’re that way now. I’m falling apart, and you’re acting like nothing is wrong. In a day or two, the reality will hit you full force.”

      “So you’re dropping a bomb, listening to it tick for a few minutes, then running before it detonates?”

      She granted him a wobbly smile. His words were clever, but the reality hurt too much. Her eyes burned and her nose tingled with suppressed tears.

      “Hey,” he said softly, “I’m sorry. That joke was in poor taste. I think you were incredibly brave to come here. I don’t know what I would have done.”

      “I admit, I’m frazzled. I prayed all of the way here, but my focus was on the boys.” She shrugged. “I’m not ready to think about all of the consequences or plot a future course.”

      “Okay. We’ll just concentrate on the guys today.”

      Marie didn’t eat much. Her nerves were strung too tight. Nothing seemed to fit past the big ball in her throat. By the end of lunch, Luke started rubbing his eyes. Marie looked at Peter. “Would you mind if I tucked him in for his nap?”

      He rubbed his chin on Ricky’s crown. “How ’bout if we let Ricky nap a while, too?”

      “He naps well in his car seat. It might be easier if we slip out while they’re sleepy. If you’re free next weekend, why don’t you and Luke come for a visit?”

      “Nothing is more important than this, Marie. We have to make a pact that the boys come first. I’ll clear my calendar and jump through whatever hoops I have to.”

      Peter sat on the couch and held Ricky while Marie tucked in Luke by herself. Those few moments she spent alone with Jack’s little son were bittersweet. Even after he’d fallen asleep, she held him close to her heart. Finally, she whispered a prayer over him, slipped him onto his bed and covered him with a satin-edged baby blanket. One kiss wasn’t enough. The second and third were just as precious.

      She knew she had to leave. It felt like a giant was reaching in and tearing her heart from her breast. Each step she took from his room and down the hall took monumental effort.

      Peter rose from the couch as she reentered the playroom. Ricky lay in his arms like a boneless cat. He’d fallen asleep, just like Luke. “I’ll carry him out for you.”

      She blinked back tears and reached out. “My arms feel too empty. Please—” To her relief, Peter relinquished Ricky.

      Peter’s face was pale and taut. Marie suspected his composure was starting to crack. Part of her wanted to stay so he wouldn’t have to bear the anguish alone, but she had no emotional reserves and couldn’t do anything to lessen the impact of this disaster. Left alone, he’d at least keep his dignity.

      She made it to the front door, but Peter pressed a hand to the oak panel, blocking her exit. “Marie—”

      “Peter, you have to let us go.”

      His troubled gaze held her captive. “For now—but things are far from resolved.”

      Marie nodded. Ricky stirred and lifted his head. Marie shrank as Peter completely closed the few inches between them. Back pressed against the wall, she gulped and her eyes widened. Then his head dipped.

      “Bye-bye, tiger. You’re a wonderful boy. I was so happy to meet you. I’ll see you again, soon.” He spoke the words very softly, very tenderly, before he kissed Ricky’s cheek and rumpled his hair. Genuine affection glowed in his eyes.

      His sweetness to her son meant the world—until he whispered to her, “You take good care of him until I can.”

      Chapter Three

      The phone rang as Marie crossed the threshold. Too tired to care, Marie let go of Ricky’s hand and smiled wearily at her sister. “I don’t know how people commute long distances to work.”

      Sandy gave her a sympathetic look, then glanced at the still-jangling phone and made a wry face. “You’d better answer that. Some guy named Peter has been calling every fifteen minutes for the last two hours. He’s frantic.”

      “Great.” Marie rubbed her aching back as she headed for the phone. “Hello?”

      “Marie! It’s eight forty-seven! You’ve been driving long past dark. What took you so long? Was there a problem?”

      Her purse strap slid down from her shoulder, and Marie let her bag drop onto the battered, white kitchen counter with a muffled thump. Shoving her hair back from her forehead, she sighed, “We’re fine.”

      “What took you so long?”

      Peter’s voice sounded ragged with concern, but Marie didn’t want to think about him or his feelings at the moment. His parting words kept echoing in her head. You take good care of him until I can. All the way home, she’d worried that Peter meant to try to take Ricky away. She’d been so absorbed, she’d failed to look at the gauges and run out of gas.

      “I said, we’re fine.”

      “Thank heavens! Marie, your car is leaking oil. I saw a pool of fresh oil right where you were parked. I worried you broke down or something.”

      “We made it home in one piece.”

      “Good!” His sigh of relief flowed over the line.

      Marie cleared her throat. “When I stopped to get gas, my license and cards were in the wrong places in my wallet.”

      The line went silent.

      “Mr. Hallock? I believe an answer is in order.” She could hear his steps as he paced back and forth on a hard surface someplace. The silence told her he was considering several possible explanations. That fact irked her. She wanted the truth.

      “While you were in my house,” he said in a well-modulated tone, “the security officer did a search of the car and your purse. He copied your identification and put it back.”

      I wanted him to be honest—but I also hoped he’d be honorable. Fatigue gave way to anger. “I’m so mad, I could spit nails! How dare you do such a thing!”

      He made an impatient sound. “I didn’t have a choice! You have my son!”

      “How am I supposed to respond to that?” She glanced behind herself to be sure Ricky wasn’t in the room. Taking care to lower her voice, she hissed, “Am I expected to scream that Ricky is mine, or do you want me to lay claim to Luke?”

      Another silence ensued. Peter finally admitted, “That didn’t come out right. You were wise