But every time I look at him…" He swore. "This is why I didn't want more kids. How can I protect him, keep him safe, give him everything he needs--"
"How does Sara feel about you spending time with him?"
Jake tried to shove away the anger and the ache in his heart whenever he pictured Sara so he could think more clearly. Sinking into his desk chair, he wheeled to face Gillian. "You know, you ask a lot of questions."
Gillian put down the letters. "You know, I care."
He could be himself with Gillian and her husband. And they did care about him. "I haven't thought about all the questions, let alone the answers. How would you feel if you were just told you had a son and you'd missed the first three years of his life?"
"Angry. Rattled. Confused."
Jake rocked back and forth on the springs. "Yeah. All three. Plus. Except I know one thing. I'm not going to lose him like I lost Davie. I just have to figure out the best way to deal with all this."
"What about his mother?"
Jake stopped rocking. "What about her?"
"What do you feel?"
He stood and paced the office. "Mad! She ran out on me. She lied to me. And yet when I look at her..." He stopped pacing and more to himself than to Gillian, he muttered, "I still get turned inside out."
"You don't have to take on the problems of the world by yourself, you know. Nathan and I are here if you want to talk."
"That's not my style."
"You might have to change your style to handle this one."
Jake's mind buzzed with scrambled pictures from the past--Mary Beth and Davie, the first day he'd met Sara on the college campus where he was giving a seminar on teenagers and the criminal justice system, the day she'd agreed to marry him, the night she'd called it off. All of it still hurt. Too damn much. There was no way he could begin to talk about it, not even with Gillian and Nathan.
And Sara...No matter what happened with Christopher, he'd protect himself this time. He wouldn't let her in. He wouldn't give her the chance to hurt him again.
#
Cutting sandwiches into halves, Sara stacked them on a plate. When she glanced up at the kitchen clock, her heart beat faster. Jake would be stopping by soon. Usually they'd finished lunch by the time he arrived to play with Christopher, but she'd spent the morning at her mother's trying to pack up the dining room.
Every day for a week, Jake had visited his son, playing with him, building with blocks, digging in the soil making mud pies. He tried hard to hide his thoughts, but Sara could see the strain on his face…in his body language. She knew he was remembering Davie. She knew he resented her. But instead of putting it into words, he was keeping it inside. She wanted to help him, but he wouldn't let her get close. Their conversations were superficial, the tension between them always simmering. She kept telling herself that she was prepared for his anger, but part of her kept hoping he'd understand and forgive her.
Expecting him, she'd left the front door open. When Jake rang the bell, she called, "Come in."
He entered the kitchen, his jeans, T-shirt and rakish hair enhancing his rugged male appeal. "You shouldn't let just anybody wander in."
"I knew you'd be coming."
"This isn't Wasco, Sara."
She sighed. "I know that. I grew up here, remember?" One look into his eyes told her he remembered other things, too. "I'm sorry Christopher's not ready. We didn't have lunch yet. We were over at Mom's, packing up."
"How's it going?"
"Slowly. It's hard."
"I could have come by this evening instead."
"No, this is fine. It's difficult for me to be there very long."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
She stopped spreading mustard on the bread and faced him. He wasn't offering out of politeness. Maybe he did have some feelings left. If he did, they could build on those. "Not at this stage. I have to do a lot of sorting. I did want to ask you
"How does Sara feel about you spending time with him?"
Jake tried to shove away the anger and the ache in his heart whenever he pictured Sara so he could think more clearly. Sinking into his desk chair, he wheeled to face Gillian. "You know, you ask a lot of questions."
Gillian put down the letters. "You know, I care."
He could be himself with Gillian and her husband. And they did care about him. "I haven't thought about all the questions, let alone the answers. How would you feel if you were just told you had a son and you'd missed the first three years of his life?"
"Angry. Rattled. Confused."
Jake rocked back and forth on the springs. "Yeah. All three. Plus. Except I know one thing. I'm not going to lose him like I lost Davie. I just have to figure out the best way to deal with all this."
"What about his mother?"
Jake stopped rocking. "What about her?"
"What do you feel?"
He stood and paced the office. "Mad! She ran out on me. She lied to me. And yet when I look at her..." He stopped pacing and more to himself than to Gillian, he muttered, "I still get turned inside out."
"You don't have to take on the problems of the world by yourself, you know. Nathan and I are here if you want to talk."
"That's not my style."
"You might have to change your style to handle this one."
Jake's mind buzzed with scrambled pictures from the past--Mary Beth and Davie, the first day he'd met Sara on the college campus where he was giving a seminar on teenagers and the criminal justice system, the day she'd agreed to marry him, the night she'd called it off. All of it still hurt. Too damn much. There was no way he could begin to talk about it, not even with Gillian and Nathan.
And Sara...No matter what happened with Christopher, he'd protect himself this time. He wouldn't let her in. He wouldn't give her the chance to hurt him again.
#
Cutting sandwiches into halves, Sara stacked them on a plate. When she glanced up at the kitchen clock, her heart beat faster. Jake would be stopping by soon. Usually they'd finished lunch by the time he arrived to play with Christopher, but she'd spent the morning at her mother's trying to pack up the dining room.
Every day for a week, Jake had visited his son, playing with him, building with blocks, digging in the soil making mud pies. He tried hard to hide his thoughts, but Sara could see the strain on his face…in his body language. She knew he was remembering Davie. She knew he resented her. But instead of putting it into words, he was keeping it inside. She wanted to help him, but he wouldn't let her get close. Their conversations were superficial, the tension between them always simmering. She kept telling herself that she was prepared for his anger, but part of her kept hoping he'd understand and forgive her.
Expecting him, she'd left the front door open. When Jake rang the bell, she called, "Come in."
He entered the kitchen, his jeans, T-shirt and rakish hair enhancing his rugged male appeal. "You shouldn't let just anybody wander in."
"I knew you'd be coming."
"This isn't Wasco, Sara."
She sighed. "I know that. I grew up here, remember?" One look into his eyes told her he remembered other things, too. "I'm sorry Christopher's not ready. We didn't have lunch yet. We were over at Mom's, packing up."
"How's it going?"
"Slowly. It's hard."
"I could have come by this evening instead."
"No, this is fine. It's difficult for me to be there very long."
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
She stopped spreading mustard on the bread and faced him. He wasn't offering out of politeness. Maybe he did have some feelings left. If he did, they could build on those. "Not at this stage. I have to do a lot of sorting. I did want to ask you
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