Courting the Clown (17 page)

“Yes.” His jaw clenched. “But it doesn’t make any difference. Not legally, not emotionally. My name is on both their birth certificates. I suppose you want to know what happened?”

“No―“

“My wife cheated on me.” He shrugged angrily. “Not a fun admission, but it’s true. The marriage was over by then, but we decided to give it a try for Lana’s sake.” Nick recited this in monotone, detaching himself from it. “When Emily was a few months old, my mother commented on her eyes. Brown. My eyes are blue. So were Clarissa’s. I didn’t want to hear it. After all it can happen. It is possible for blue-eyed parents to have a brown-eyed child, although it’s rare. But in the end I checked her medical file. Her blood group didn’t match mine. She couldn’t possibly be mine.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “I still didn’t want to believe it. The blood results are conclusive, and when I confronted Clarissa she didn’t deny it, but still, I had DNA testing, and when she was eight months old, I finally admitted to myself that I couldn’t be her biological father.”

“Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Nick.”

“But she’s my daughter,” Nick said, almost angrily. “She’s been my daughter since I held her in the delivery room. The only reason I had to know was because I needed to find out if I could survive in that marriage or not. I couldn’t stay with her mother after I found out, not even for their sake, but I could never stop loving Emily.”

“What about her biological father?”

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know who he is. Clarissa never told me. Whoever he is, he obviously doesn’t know about Emily. Or if he knows, he doesn’t care. It’s a black cloud though. Knowing at any time someone might come into our lives, demanding access to one of my kids...”

“Unlikely, now...”

“Yes. Yet, I’m torn. On one hand, I want to be her father – her only father. On the other I’m almost hoping he does show up, sooner or later. For Emily’s sake. For her future. She does have the right to know her biological father.” He shrugged. “But whoever it is, he probably doesn’t even know he fathered her.”

They sat in silence for a while. Sylvie didn’t quite know what to say – any question felt like an intrusion, and I’m-sorry seemed inappropriate. But it was getting late, and she should be leaving anyway. She glanced at her watch and stretched. “Well, I should be going home,” she said.

Nick’s expression changed, and he focused only on her. She shivered as the mood changed. Even the room seemed to darken. “When will I see you again?”

“ I don’t know,” she teased. “My mother wants me to stay over the New Year. My Dad’s sixtieth birthday is on January 1
^st
. But I have this ogre of a boss. I guess I’ll have to check with him, when he needs me back.”

Nick’s smile was tiny, the merest flutter at the corner of one mouth. “Your boss will give you all the time you need. But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll be back just after the New Year, then.”

He leaned over. She met him half-way, and their lips met in a slow, sweet kiss. She slid her hand around his neck, into his hair, and he pulled her over until she was lying on top of him in the soft sofa. His body was warm and firm under her, his scent intoxicating, and she despaired of ever finding the willpower to leave.

“Nick...” she groaned, her head spinning, and he shushed her, cupping her face, the kisses turning darker and deeper, dangerous and exhilarating, his inventive hands pushing under her sweater, searing the skin. It wasn’t until he broke away from her to pull the sweater over her head that she regained a tiny shred of common sense. She shot to her feet, adjusting her clothes, her face flaming.

“The girls,” she stuttered. “God. The door isn’t locked. They could have walked in on us.”

Nick was still on the couch. His hair was mussed. His shirt was open. His eyes were ablaze, and then he was reaching out for her. “Come back here. I have motion detectors in the hall. If the girls leave their rooms, a buzzer on my desk will sound.”

“
What
? You have
motion detectors
in your home? Why?” So he could seduce women uninterrupted? Who was this guy?

“Emily walks in her sleep. Lana sometimes wanders around the house half-asleep. So, I installed motion detectors, with buzzers by my bed and in my workshop. To make sure I keep them safe.”

“Oh boy.” Her lips were still tingling. Her entire body was humming with unfulfilled need. She was still working on catching her breath and looking at him didn’t help at all. “I wonder what you’ll think of when they start sneaking out to meet boys. You’re nuts.”

“You like me that way. C’mere.”

“No.”

His arm fell to his side for a second, then he turned on his most lethal smile and reached for her again. “
Please
, come here.”

She shook her head. She needed distance from this family. All of them. She needed to think things over, and hope that she faced from the girls’ memory. If anything could distract kids, Christmas was it. When it was over, Lana and Emily would probably have forgotten all about her. Then, maybe then, they could see what happened. Then she’d be safe from an arranged proposal their father.

Her body ached as she stole another glimpse at him. Then she might be persuaded to indulge in long stolen hours with this man.

Then, maybe, she would admit to herself that she was already in love with him.

***

Nick’s stomach was actually clenching in protest. He wondered if he’d be this nervous when the time came to have that serious discussion about the birds, the bees and birth control. He leaned forward towards the little girl sitting on his workshop floor and tried to keep his voice friendly and unthreatening. “Lana, Sylvie told me how scared you were, thinking Emily was gone.”

His beautiful little daughter stared up at him, her eyes filled with trepidation. “I’m afraid Emily’s going away.” Her lip trembled. “Be...because she’s only my
half
-sister.”

Lana was seven, and a very smart little girl. She was already an excellent reader. Nick opened the bottom drawer on his desk, and rummage through his files. Lana sat quietly on the floor, watching. He finally located the document and put it down on the desk. “Come here, kiddo,” he said. “I’ve got a reading test for you.” He held out his arms, and Lana crawled into his lap.

“Honey, look at this. Can you read what it says at the top?”

“Birth cert...” Lana read slowly. “Certifi... Certificate.”

“Yes. That’s a big word, isn’t it? Can you read the rest?” He shifted Lana on his lap, aimed the pool of light from the lamp on the document, and helped her read the entire thing, legalese and all. He knew she wouldn’t understand all the words – heck, he didn’t understand all the words -- but they might reassure her anyway.

“Do you know what this all means, Emily?”

She shook her head, her teeth worrying her lip again. “Not all. It says you’re Emily’s daddy, and Mommy is Emily’s Mommy.”

“Yes. This paper means that Emily is my daughter just as much as you are. It means she’ll always live with us and nobody can take her away. See? She’s not escaping you and me until she’s grown-up and wants to be on her own. She’s stuck with us. You don’t have to worry.”

“But Mommy always said...” Lana trailed off, and Nick tried to stifle the burst of anger at his ex-wife for insisting on burdening the children with this knowledge. She was dead, and she’d given him two wonderful daughters. He wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

“I know, Lana. It’s complicated. I’ll explain it all to you when you’re older, but you can be sure that Emily will always live with us. Always.”

Lana put her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. He could feel her every breath and then she raised her head to whisper into his ear. “Daddy?”

“Yes, love?”

“Can we adopt Iffy?”

Nick smiled against his daughter’s cheek, breathing in the fresh scent of her strawberry shampoo. “I don’t know if she wants to be adopted, sweetie.”

“I know you would, honey.” Nick stroked his daughter’s hair and wondered how he could bribe her to promise not to breathe a word of their little conversation to Sylvie. She probably wouldn’t appreciate having her life – pregnancies and all - mapped out by a scheming seven-year-old.

“Emily says it would be okay, too,” Lana added, a satisfied smile on her face. “I made sure. I explained it all and she says it’s okay.”

“What?”

“That you marry Iffy and have babies. I talked to her. She promised not to use her squirt gun and be good at the wedding and throw flowers on the floor so Iffy’s glass slippers won’t get dirty.”

“Quaffing?” Before his automatic daddy-translator kicked in, Nick’s mind had conjured up a vivid picture of his daughters at their grandmother’s kitchen table, guzzling down huge tankards of beer. “Oh, you mean you were quoting?”

“Yeah. Quaffing. Are you going to ask Sylvie to marry us?”

How did he answer a question like that? There wasn’t an honest answer. He couldn’t say no, because marrying Sylvie was something he’d realized he wanted to. He’d realized it the moment Lana asked him.

But that didn’t necessarily mean Sylvie felt the same thing. He looked at the picture on the desk. Lana and Emily on a waterslide, both terror and ecstasy on their faces.

She’d said she didn’t want kids. But she loved the girls. Didn’t she?

And what was she feeling for
him
?

Chapter 11

January 2
^nd
, Sylvie was back at
Robots and Ragdolls
, at a computer Mary had assigned to her. She stared at the filthy keyboard and thought with longing of the piano up on the platform, all abandoned and lonely, probably gathering dust until next Christmas.

Would
she
be playing it next Christmas?

She pushed the thought away, and concentrated on the spreadsheet. It wasn’t easy. She’d been back yesterday afternoon, eagerly checked her phone messages and email, but there was nothing.

Perhaps the girls’ had already forgotten her – and then, their father too.

Her feelings hadn’t dulled a bit during the ten days away. She dreamed about Nick. She thought about him all day. She thought she saw him out of the corner of her eye – everywhere. She was in love all right.

“ Don’t be so....
stupid
,” Helen had fumed when Sylvie had shared her insecurities. “Of course he doesn’t just want you as a mother for his kid. I mean, if someone wanted a mother for their kids, they could do a lot better than you..!”

“Thanks... I think,” Sylvie had replied dryly. Of course, that was the other side of the coin.

In her coat pocket, her cell rang, and her heart raced when she saw the number. Foolishly, she rushed to the mirror on one wall, frantically smoothing her hair.

“I missed you,” he said after her too-breathless hello, his voice soft and intimate. She watched her mirror image start to blush, and escaped to filing room before somebody noticed.

“Hi,” she repeated. God, it had been long since she’d seen him. An eternity. She closed her eyes and remembered his kiss and warmth spread through her.