The Child Who Rescued Christmas. Jessica Matthews
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person.”
She sounded dazed, much as he had when he’d heard the news. “Apparently so.”
“Are you certain? I mean, if she slept with you at your reunion, she might have spent time with someone else, too.”
Her faith in him was bittersweet and only made him feel worse than he already did. He, too, had posed the question, hoping there’d been some misunderstanding, but the possibility had died an instant death after Maitland had presented him with undeniable proof.
“She didn’t,” he assured her, hating to destroy her hopes but understanding how the possibility was a lifeline for her to grab—a lifeline that their life wouldn’t be turned upside down so easily. “Maitland gave me a picture of the boy. There’s a strong … family resemblance.”
It was more than a resemblance. The phrase “chip off the old block” came to mind. If he compared photos of himself at that age, he’d think his image had been cut and pasted into a scene from today.
“And she wants you to look after her—your—child.”
From past experience, Cole knew that Sara’s reserved tone was merely a smoke screen, especially given the words she’d chosen. Her. Your child. Underneath her deadly calm was a churning cauldron of emotions held in check by sheer force of will. Cole would have rather seen her yell, scream or throw things, instead of seeing her so controlled.
“She wants us to look after him,” he corrected. “She wanted Brody to have two parents, not one.”
As she sat frozen, Cole hastened to continue. “Apparently, Ruth knew the situation would be … difficult … which was why she left a letter for you to read.”
He dug in the manila envelope Maitland had given him and placed the small sealed white envelope that bore Sara’s name in front of her. Next to it, he positioned Brody’s photograph so that those impish dark brown eyes were facing her.
Sara didn’t move to accept the envelope or glance at the picture.
“Ruth rightly believed you would play an important role in Brody’s upbringing, which is why she stipulated that you also had to agree to take him.”
“And if I don’t?”
He paused, torn between wanting her to refuse and hoping she’d accept the challenge ahead of them. “Then the search will begin for different parents,” he said evenly. “According to Maitland, Ruth hoped that wouldn’t happen.
He and his wife, Eloise, were Ruth’s neighbors and they knew how much she worried about Brody going into the same foster-care system she had.”
“If they knew Ruth so well, why didn’t she appoint them as his substitute parents?”
“Parker is sixty-nine and Eloise is sixty-seven. As much as they love Brody, it isn’t feasible for them to parent a child at their age.” Parker had told him that he and Ruth had discussed this scenario and they’d both agreed that Brody needed younger parents who would conceivably give him siblings as well as live long enough to see him through high school and college.
“Where is he now?”
“He’s with Maitland and his wife at a hotel.” He paused. “Parker invited us to stop by at our convenience tonight. However, he did mention that Brody usually goes to bed at eight and with all the commotion of the past few days, he’s been a little cranky if he stays up later than that.”
The silence in the room became deafening and Cole watched helplessly as Sara rubbed her forehead with a shaky hand. “I don’t know what to say,” she murmured. “I’m tempted to believe I’m dreaming, that this is just an elaborate hoax or a misunderstanding.”
“I know how you feel, but this …” he fingered the photo “… proves otherwise.”
He stared at the snapshot lying on the table, picking out the facial features that seemed to be carbon copies of his own—coal-black hair, dimples, a straight nose and lopsided grin. Yet, even with the proof before him, he was still hardly able to accept that he had a son.
A son.
While he’d been willing to add to their family—someday in the future—knowing he had a son now was mind-boggling. It was one thing to feel guilty about his one-night stand, but quite another to know a child had resulted. He didn’t know if he felt happy or sad, disappointed or excited, but he’d sort through those emotions later. At this moment, the reality had to be addressed, which was, namely, would they accept Brody into their home, or would Brody enter the same state-run children’s services that Ruth had loathed?
He simply couldn’t go against Ruth’s wishes, but her way was filled with pitfalls. Having grown up in a situation where he hadn’t been wanted, he’d always vowed to keep some sort of “escape clause” in his relationships, which was why he’d had so much trouble making a commitment to Sara. But now, if he accepted Ruth’s child, his son, there would be no escape. If he intended to do this, he had to do so with the intent of being in it for the long haul.
This, at least, was the same decision he’d made before he’d proposed. And that had worked out, hadn’t it? he told himself.
Or, it had, until he’d lost all common sense on that long-ago night.
He wanted to scream at the fates for putting him in this position, but what was done was done. There was only one way to escape this time, but as he glanced at Brody’s photo, the idea didn’t appeal as much as it might have. After all, if he’d been willing to face his fears and have a baby with Sara, how was this any different?
There was a big difference, he thought tiredly. Sara was his wife and she’d stand beside him, helping him, guiding him along the right path, correcting his mistakes. Now the question was, would she stay with him or not? Would he lose his son and his wife?
He studied her, wishing she’d say or do something rather than remain locked in icy calm. If only they had time to come to terms with the situation and what it meant to them as a couple, but time was a luxury they didn’t have.
“Sara?” he asked tentatively. “We have to make a decision.”
“Right now?” She sounded horrified.
“Maybe not this instant,” he conceded, “but definitely within the next twenty-four hours. Brody’s future has to be settled, one way or another. Keeping him in limbo isn’t in his best interests.”
He’d wondered if the prospect of having the baby she’d wanted would overshadow its origins, but she clearly hadn’t reached that level of acceptance yet. He understood. He was still stunned and he’d felt the bombshell several hours earlier.
She nodded, almost absentmindedly.
Thinking that Sara would benefit from seeing Ruth’s wishes in black and white, he pulled a copy of the will out of the manila envelope and flipped to the pages in question.
“Ruth had arranged for all of her assets to be placed into a trust fund for Brody and she named us as the trustees. She didn’t want finances to factor in to our decision, so she left a modest nest egg for his care.”
Not that he intended to tap into it if they chose to raise him. After all, Brody was his son, and his responsibility.
“There are a few personal things she asked that we keep for him, heirlooms if you will. Everything else will be sold.”
“I see.”
“She also asked that we legally adopt him so he carries our surname rather than hers.”
“She thought of everything, didn’t she?” she said wryly.
“I’m sure she and her legal counsel tried to cover every contingency.”
“Did she have a plan if we decided not to raise her child?”
Cole’s cautious optimism