A Weekend Getaway (8 page)

Sarah nodded with a tight-lipped smile. “Me, too.”

“Like you were there for me all of those years ago. I owe
you a lot.”

“Don’t mention it. I admire your courage.”

“Courage,” Beth repeated, unable to hide the sarcasm in her
voice.

“Hey, this is a big deal.” Sarah slung her purse across her
shoulder. “You know. Reaching out to the Taylors and all. It’s too bad it’s
under these circumstances.”

Beth’s teeth worried along her lower lip some more, causing the
delicate skin to crack and bleed. She had to tell her daughter that she might
die by the time she turned forty. She had to tell her daughter that her father
didn’t even know she existed. Pressing on her temples, she let out a sigh.

“What’s wrong?”

 
“I just hate
this.”

“How does Drew feel about it? Is he supportive?”

Beth picked up the folder and clutched it to her chest. “I
didn’t tell him.”

“About today or about the baby?”

“Any of it. After we’d been dating a while, he complained
about how his sister got pregnant in high school and put the infant up for
adoption. He said he couldn’t believe she’d given away his niece as if she were
a puppy. It didn’t seem to faze her at all. She kept her second baby, Emma, but
she’s not that devoted to her, either. By that time, I was in love with Drew
and didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“But you’re different than her. You agonized over this.”

“I don’t know. Part of me was relieved that someone else was
able to take over. I wanted my baby to have the best life and I wasn’t ready to
make the sacrifices to do that. I wanted to be a carefree college student.”

Sarah tipped her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. “Excuse
me, but you were never a carefree college student. As I recall, you studied
more than anyone else I knew.”

 
“I was the first
one in my family not to go to a Christian college. Do you know how much
pressure that was? My parents would’ve been heartbroken to find out I’d blown
it my freshman year. So, in a way, giving my baby away was me being selfish.”

“Bethany, you are not selfish. You’re raising Drew’s niece
and I can tell you love her as if she were your own.”

 
”Definitely.” Harboring
sixteen years of shame, Beth allowed all of Sarah’s compliments to roll off her
back. “But that doesn’t change the past.”

“If you want a future with Drew, you have to tell him about
this.”

“I know.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I will.”

# # #

When her home phone rang at 11:15 that night, Beth’s pulse
quickened. She grabbed the receiver so the ringing wouldn’t wake Drew and Emma
upstairs, who had been already asleep when she arrived home. She thought it
might be the Taylors, but knew it couldn’t be. While driving home, she’d picked
up her cell several times to call, but never dialed. Confronting her past
proved amazingly difficult. More difficult than saying “no” to the tub of chocolate
ice cream that Drew had left in the freezer.

Ivy’s frantic voice came over the line. “I don’t know what
to do. I don’t know what to do.”

Panic flooded Beth’s brain. Had the Huntington’s already
incapacitated Parker? No, she thought it progressed slowly. “What’s wrong?”

“I think Parker’s going to kill himself.”

“What?” She sprang to her feet.

“I found all of these books about suicide. Different ways to
off yourself. They were hidden in his closet.”

The closet. That’s where Beth hid her secrets, too. “Calm
down. Just because he has some books doesn’t mean anything. Parker’s strong. He
didn’t seem suicidal when I saw him at the reunion.” Although he had left the
party in order to get drunk in his hotel room. Did suicidal people actually
announce their plans?

“Something’s different about him.” Ivy sounded convinced. “At
first I thought it was just a mid-life crisis, but now I think it’s because he
found out he has Huntington’s. He didn’t even tell me. I found out the same
time you did—at the banquet. Did you know his father had to go into a
nursing home when he was in his forties? Parker always insisted on visiting his
dad alone, which makes me think it must’ve been pretty bad.”

Beth swallowed and sat back on the couch. “Ivy, I’m so
sorry.”

“I remember you took all of those psychology classes so I
thought you’d know what to do.”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Beth tried to remember the right
thing to say. The weight of life and death pressed on her. Surely Parker would
never—but what if she were wrong? “I’m no expert, but I suggest you
confront Parker about the books you found. Try to figure out how serious he
is.”

“I’m afraid.” Her sobs came like tiny hiccups through the
long-distance wires. Ivy even cried gracefully.

“He probably needs to know that you’ll love him no matter
what. You can help him through this.”

“I...I don’t know if I can. I’m not a nurse. I’m not good at
that kind of thing.”

Beth groaned. “Ivy, this is your husband. You need to do
this whether you’re comfortable or not. It’s time to buck up and be a good
wife.”

“I am a good wife.” The crying dissipated. “You don’t know
how he neglects me. He’s always at the office. He almost didn’t come to the
Leadership Club banquet which I arranged in his honor.” Shallow breaths came
over the line. “He’s supposed to take care of me, not the other way around.”

“Says who?” Parker needed help and Ivy wanted to whine about
how unfair life was! Beth sighed with frustration.

“You know how my dad was. He traveled the country playing
guitar, leaving me at home with mom to live off of government assistance. It
was humiliating to eat free lunches at school. I swore when I grew up, I’d be
smart. I’d marry a man better than my dad.”

Beth swallowed her criticism of Ivy. Childhood scars were so
hard to heal. In Ivy’s twenty-something mind, Parker must’ve looked like a good
provider, the complete opposite of her father. It had probably never occurred
to her that she would get the short end of the stick. “How much do you know
about the disease?”

“Not much.”

“Maybe you should talk to his doctor. Get some advice on
what to expect and how to help Parker if he becomes depressed. It all could be
connected.” She bit her lip. It was still difficult to believe that
charismatic, determined Parker would ever consider taking his own life. “Does
he have a gun?”

“Yes. For protection. You never know who might want to
break-in and steal from us.”

Beth rolled her eyes. “I’d hide the gun. Give it to someone
to hold for you. Just in case. I mean, I don’t think Parker would hurt himself,
but it’s hard to know what anyone would do if they had a terminal illness.”

“I was hoping seeing all of his old friends would cheer him
up. Lately he seems obsessed with all of the things he never did. The Peace
Corps, climbing mountains, having kids. I don’t know what to do.”

Words lodged in Beth’s throat. Parker was depressed partly
because he never had kids. But he did have one. Doubt twisted in her gut. If
she had told him the truth all of those years ago, would he be fine now? Did
she have the power to pull him out of this downward spiral? Did she have a
moral obligation to tell him, like Sarah said?

She looked out at the night sky. It was easier to
self-disclose in a dark room, she remembered from one of her psych classes. Maybe
she should turn out the lights and surround herself with blackness. “Ivy, where
is Parker now?” Could she just tell him over the phone and hang up? Her palms
grew slick with sweat. Her breath drew up short.

“He’s at the office. I told you, he’s always working.”

Her eyes glanced at the clock, which read 11:23. It
was
awfully late for Parker to be
working. “You don’t think he might do something tonight, do you?” She pressed
her palm to her frantically beating heart.

“No. He called a little bit ago to tell me not to wait up.
He’s working on some paperwork that has to be completed by tomorrow.”

Relief coursed through her body. “How about I come by for a
visit? I could talk to him and try to figure out how serious he is. Try to
change his mind.” And maybe, just maybe come clean.

“Oh, Beth, that would be great! You would do that for me?
For us?”

“Yes, of course.” Not that she could afford to take another
day off of work. She had research to do on her vitamin spray idea. But she
needed to make time for this. She could finally reveal her secret to Parker,
which might give him the will to carry on. Plus she could let him take
responsibility for telling their daughter about the Huntington’s. Yes, this
would unburden her while solving two major problems. “How about Friday?”

“Yes, I think I think I can keep an eye on him until then.”

“Good. Tell him I’m coming…and that I have something
important to share.”

CHAPTER
SEVEN

Amy, who usually had a smile on
her face, looked worried when Beth stepped into the daycare center. Wavy lines
creased Amy’s forehead and her thin eyebrows tilted in a pleading expression.
“I’m so sorry. Emma snuck into my purse at naptime and took a piece of gum.”

 
“That’s okay.” She didn’t believe Emma
was old enough to chew gum, but she knew Missy let her have it. Beth’s gaze scanned
the room full of children playing on a carpet that looked like a street. One
boy ran a fire engine along the dotted lines, making a siren noise. Two nearby
girls sat cross-legged on the floor, putting together puzzles. Behind them, a
few leftover cupcakes and crumbs sat on a table, probably brought in for
somebody’s birthday. Beth swore she could smell—and practically taste—the
cream cheese frosting from here.

Forcing herself to look away,
she saw her niece coming toward her, wrestling to put her arm in her lilac
jacket.

Amy knelt down to help Emma with
her sleeve, then looked at Beth. “We tried to get it out, but we couldn’t.”

Seeing Emma’s hair, Beth gasped.
A wad of gum was stuck in the ends of Emma’s long blonde curls.
 

“I keep my purse in my desk
drawer. I don’t have any way to lock it.” Amy continued, her words rushing
together. “She must’ve snuck over there when I was pouring the milk for snack
time. Again, I’m so sorry.”

Beth stared at Emma. She didn’t
know what to say.

Emma smiled at her and
exclaimed, “Aunt Beth!” as if Beth’s mere presence was the best gift she could’ve
been given.

They hugged like they always did
after daycare. Beth hated to leave the little girl there for nine hours a day,
but she had no choice. She’d always told herself that Emma liked playing with
other kids and was well cared-for by the conscientious and attentive Amy. But
now? What if Emma had found a nail file or a bottle of aspirin in Amy’s purse?

Gnawing on her thumbnail, Amy
seemed to be waiting for Beth’s reaction. “I tried everything to get it out,
but nothing worked.”

Beth knew Amy was looking to
ease her guilt, but the words wouldn’t come. She dug in her purse for a small
comb, then worked the teeth through Emma’s hair, starting at the bottom, as if
it were a simple knot. When that failed, she tried using her fingers to gently
separate the glued-together strands.

“Ow!” Emma cried.

Beth persisted with the tip of
the comb. It was a gooey mess. Emma’s beautiful hair would be ruined for sure.

After seeing a few children off
with their parents, Amy returned her attention to Beth. “I tried everything I
could think of. I’m so sorry.”

Beth didn’t respond, her mind going
to the one solution left. Cutting it out. But Beth loved the curls at the end
of Emma’s locks. It would be a crime to shear them. “We’d better go.” She offered
Amy a slight smile before taking Emma’s hand and exiting the room.

As they walked down the hall,
she grilled Emma as to what had happened.

“You never let me have gum and I
love gum.”

Beth shook her head. “How did it
end up in your hair?”

“Don’t know. I fell asleep at
naptime.”

“This is why you’re not old
enough for gum, sweetie.” Beth had intended to head home and cook dinner, but
now she had to swing by one of those drop-in hair salons. She flashed back to
Emma’s meltdown the last time Beth hadn’t taken her straight home for a snack,
and exhaled. Hopefully, this wouldn’t be episode number two.

Before exiting the building, she
stopped by the vending machine but it displayed an “out of order” sign on its
glass. She shook her head and grabbed Emma’s hand. Fifteen minutes later, Beth parked
her Chevy in a strip mall lot.

“What are we doing? Are we going
to a restaurant?” Emma pressed her hand against the window, adding to its many
smudges.

Beth let out one short burst of
a laugh. “I wish. We’re going to see what can be done about your hair.”

“Oh.” Emma didn’t seem
concerned. Perhaps she didn’t understand the gravity of the situation. That was
all right. Beth wanted to ride the wave of Emma’s cluelessness for as long as
it lasted.

When they walked in the little
shop, the chemical smell of a permanent made Beth’s nostrils burn. Since it was
a weeknight, the place was empty of customers except for an elderly woman whose
gray hair was wrapped in tight rollers. A young hairstylist, with streaks of
purple in her blonde hair, greeted them at the counter. A moment later, Emma
perched on a booster seat in the woman’s workstation. Emma smiled at their
reflections in the big mirror. “Pretty. Can I get my hair purple, too?”

“No.” Beth sometimes struggled
with that word, but not in this case. She faced the hair stylist. “Do your best
to make it look normal please.”

The girl nodded. “Gum in the
hair. Used to happen to me all the time when I was a kid.” She winked at Emma
and the toddler smiled back.

Beth adored how Emma’s innocent
blue eyes and big grin won over people in an instant. The child was adorable.
And attractiveness could open a lot of doors. Beth hoped to teach the little
girl the importance of education so that she impressed the people who were
drawn initially by her looks. What a powerful combination. Beauty and brains.

The stylist wrapped a vinyl cape
around Emma’s neck and sprayed her hair with a squirt bottle. She started
combing the loose sections of hair, leaving the wad alone. No need for tears,
Beth assumed.

As Beth found a seat, her mind took
her back to a fifth grade slumber party. She’d invited some girls over to her
house for a sleepover, figuring they’d talk about boys and braid each other’s
hair and become best friends. She’d been so excited when Layla, the most
popular girl in her class, had accepted her offer. But the day before her party
every single one of the girls backed out. Some claimed they weren’t feeling
well and others admitted that they’d been invited to Layla’s house for a party.
And no one could turn down Layla. She had a cute brother they all had a crush
on and her parents didn’t mind if they made prank calls or TP’ed the neighbors.
That’s what it was like to be the fat PK—preacher’s kid. Your house was
always a last resort.

The stylist waved, trying to get
her attention. Beth stood and walked over to the workstation.

“I could do a bob.” The
purple-haired woman indicated that she could trim just below Emma’s chin.

“That’s fine. Whatever you
think.”

“It’s a shame to cut these cute
curls, but I don’t see any other way. Unless you want an asymmetrical cut.”

Beth shook her head. The kid was
three years old! “A bob sounds good.”

When the stylist was finished
ten minutes later, she dusted the loose hairs off Emma’s shoulders and removed
the cape. Emma studied herself in the mirror. “I look like a boy!” She started
to wail.

The stylist’s eyes grew wide as
if she’d never seen a child cry before. “I could put some temporary purple
color in her hair.”

Beth didn’t like that idea, but
Emma did. Her tears seemed to dry instantly. “Pleeeeease, Aunt Beth?”

Beth shook her head and helped
Emma out of the big chair. She paid as quickly as possible while Emma sobbed
and stomped her feet. Thank goodness the place was so empty.

On the way out the door, Beth
told Emma she looked like Kit, her American Girl doll. Emma didn’t care. In the
car Beth sang, “You are my Sunshine” to her, but the little girl didn’t chime
in. Finally, out of desperation, Beth took her for some ice cream.

Beth knew this would ruin Emma’s
appetite for a healthy dinner, but she didn’t have the energy to cook now
anyway. On the ride home after the treat, Emma’s tears dried.

Everything was looking up until
Beth spotted the familiar rusty Pontiac in her driveway.

She unlocked the door to the
house, bracing herself for Emma’s mother. Missy, a fiery redhead, opened her
arms wide and Emma ran into them. The woman’s clothes smelled like cigarette
smoke.

A second later, Missy drew back
and surveyed Emma. “What happened to your beautiful hair?”

“Aunt Beth made me cut it. I
hate it.”

Beth stepped forward, feeling
the need to defend herself. “She got gum stuck in it. I had no choice.”

Missy lowered her eyebrows at
Beth. A cubic zirconia twinkled near her left nostril. “Her curls were her best
feature. I can’t believe you cut her hair without checking with me first. I’m
her mother, not you.”

A slap might as well have hit Beth’s
cheek. She hated for Missy to disrespect her like this in front of Emma. It was
hard enough trying to handle the strong-willed child. Beth had the ant farm to
prove it. “If you’d have seen it, you’d understand that it had to be cut.”

“But I didn’t see it. This is
completely unforgiveable.”

Beth jerked off her coat and
decided to look for reinforcements. “Emma, why don’t you show your mom that
picture you painted the other day while Drew and I figure out something for
dinner.”

Missy looked at Emma. “I thought
we’d go to McDonald’s. Doesn’t that sound good?”

Usually Emma would squeal with
delight at this suggestion. “I’m not hungry. Aunt Beth and me had ice cream.”

Missy’s scowl was enough to
force Beth to take a step back. “I swear you’ll do anything to make me look bad,”
Missy said. “I can’t even treat my own daughter to McDonald’s because of you.”

“She was so upset about her
hair, I wanted to cheer her up. I didn’t know you were planning on taking her
to dinner.” Beth crossed her arms. Why was she always on the defensive with
Missy? Beth was the one in the trenches, not Emma’s part-time biological mother.
“Did you tell Drew you were coming tonight?” She glanced up the stairs,
wondering where her boyfriend was. He needed to be her buffer.

“Emma’s my daughter. I don’t
have to ask permission to see my own child.”

Emma stood a few inches in front
of Missy. The little girl’s head turned back and forth as if she were watching
a tennis match, probably unsure of whom to root for.

Beth needed to get away so she
headed for the stairs. With a death grip on the railing, she called up to Drew.

“Emma, how would you like to
have a little brother or sister?” Beth heard Missy say in a high-pitched,
childish tone, and her stomach lurched. She climbed the stairs as quickly as
possible, feeling the ice cream work a number on her insides. The sugar followed
by the confrontation with Missy was too much. She had to talk to Drew.

She found him peeling wallpaper
off of their bedroom wall and closed the door behind her. “That woman drives me
crazy! Missy just asked Emma if she’d like a little brother or sister. What’s
that all about?”

He turned off the steamer and
faced her. “I guess Missy’s pregnant.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Doesn’t she understand where
babies come from?” One accidental pregnancy she could understand. But three?
“Is the baby’s father going to help out?”

“That’s why they broke up. He wants her to get rid of it.”

“He sounds like a real winner.”

Drew shook his head, staring at the torn-up walls. “She
wants to know if we’ll raise it.”

“What? Seriously?”

“It will be Emma’s sibling. They’d be together.”

“What about us? I thought someday we’d get married and have
our own baby. We’ve talked about this.”

He shoved his hands in his jean
pockets. “Don’t start on me, Beth. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around
this.”

“Just tell Missy no. If you keep bailing her out, she’ll
continue to have unprotected sex and never stop to consider the consequences.”

“Think about what’s best for the baby. Missy works part-time
as a cashier at a gas station. She dates the truckers that she meets there.
That’s no life for a child.”

Beth swallowed. A baby. She did want a baby, but not like
this. How did foster parents do it? Nurture and love a child, knowing he or she
would only be theirs for a limited time? They had big hearts. Ones that were
willing to break. “I’m tired of waiting for Missy to straighten her life out. I
want us to start our own family.”

“So we’ll have two babies in the house at once?” He shivered
as if he had the willies. “We won’t get any sleep. Plus we’ll have to pay childcare
for three kids. That’s got to be expensive.”

Three kids
would
be expensive. She crossed her arms in frustration.

Drew moved toward Beth and placed his hands on her hips. His
green eyes gazed at her, kindness etched across his fair skin. “Beth, I’m just
trying to do the right thing here. Are you with me?”

His touch always soothed her. Besides, he had such a big
heart, she couldn’t hold that against him. “You mean am I willing to take in
another one of Missy’s kids? Maybe. I love having Emma here. But I don’t want
to put us on hold any more.”

“Let’s talk about this later.”

Her focus zeroed in on the jeweler’s box sitting on his
dresser. The diamond tie tack she’d bought still remained untouched. “Later.”
In a flash, her compassion turned to annoyance. She pulled away from him. “There
might not be a later.”

He reached for her shoulder. “Hey, what’s that supposed to
mean?”

The weight of her past conflicting with her future pressed
down on her chest. Perhaps if she told him about the adoption, he’d understand
her desire for a family of her own. She desperately needed to fulfill the
promise she’d made to herself all of those years ago—to someday have
another baby and do things right this time. And the clock was ticking.

 
“There’s
something else we need to talk about.” Her pulse throbbed in her neck.

He cocked his red head. “What’s that?”