A Bravo Christmas Reunion. Christine Rimmer
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the kid launched herself into a pirouette. A bad one. She stumbled a little as she came around front again. And then she grinned, a grin as infectious as her mother’s—and Hayley’s.
“I’m DeDe.” She bowed.
“Homework,” said the mother.
“Oh, Mom…”
The mother folded her arms and waited, her kitchen towel trailing beneath her elbow.
Finally, the kid gave it up. “Okay, okay. I’m going,” she grumbled. She seemed a cheerful type of kid and couldn’t sustain the sulky act. A second later, with a jaunty wave in Marcus’s direction, she bounced from the room, the old dog limping along behind her.
Hayley, who’d taken the other wing chair, said, “Marcus, this is my sister, Kelly.”
It occurred to him about then that the evening was taking on the aspect of some bizarre dream: Hayley having his baby. The kid in the pink tights. The decrepit dog. The sudden appearance of a sister where there wasn’t supposed to be one.
“A sister,” he said, sounding as dazed as he felt. “You’ve got a sister…”
Hayley had grown up in foster homes. Her mother, who was frail and often sick, had trouble keeping a job and had always claimed she wasn’t up to taking care of her only daughter. So she’d dumped Hayley into the system.
“Oh, Marcus.” Hayley made a small, unhappy sound in her throat. “I realize this is a big surprise. It was to me, too. Believe me. My mother always told me I was the only one. It never occurred to me that she was lying, that anyone would lie about something like that….”
“Ah,” said Marcus, hoping that very soon the surprises were going to stop.
The sister, Kelly, fingered her towel and smiled hopefully. “We have a brother, too….”
Hayley piped up again. “I just found them back in June—or rather, we all found each other. When Mom died.”
His throat did something strange. He coughed into his hand to clear it. “Your mother died….”
“Yeah. Not long after I moved back here. I met Kelly and our brother, Tanner, in Mom’s hospital room, as a matter of fact.”
“When she was dying, you mean?”
“Yes. When she was dying.” Before he could decide what to ask next, Hayley turned to her sister. “Could you get the letter, please?”
Kelly frowned. “Are you sure? Maybe you ought to—”
“Just get it.”
“Of course.” Kelly left the room.
Marcus sat in silence, staring at the woman who was soon to have his child. He didn’t speak. And neither did she.
It was probably better that way.
The sister returned with a white envelope. She handed it to Hayley, who held it up so that he could see his own address printed neatly on the front. “Tell him, Kelly.”
Kelly sucked in a reluctant breath and turned to Marcus. “I would have mailed it to you, as soon as the baby was born.” She held up two balloon-shaped stickers, one pink, which said, It’s A Girl and the other blue, with It’s A Boy.
Hayley said weakly, “You know. Depending.”
Marcus looked at the envelope, at the long-lost sister standing there holding the stickers, at Hayley sitting opposite him, eyes wide, her hand resting protectively on her pregnant stomach.
I’m going to wake up, he thought. Any second now, I’m going to wake up.
But he didn’t.
Chapter Two
Hayley despised herself.
She’d blown this situation royally and she knew it. She stared at her baby’s father in the chair across from hers and longed only to turn back time.
She should have told him. In hindsight, that much was achingly clear. She should have told him back in May, before she broke it off with him, before she quit her job as his assistant and slunk back to Sacramento to nurse her broken heart.
No matter his total rejection of her when she’d told him she loved him, he’d deserved to know. No matter that when she dared to suggest he might think again about them getting married, he’d given her a flat, unconditional no—and then, when she hinted they ought to break up, since they were clearly going nowhere, he’d agreed that was probably for the best.
No matter. None of it. She should have told him when she left him that he was going to be a dad. If she’d told him then, she wouldn’t be looking across her sister’s coffee table at him now, seeing the stunned bewilderment in his usually piercing green eyes, and totally hating herself.
She broke the grim silence that hovered like a gray cloud in her sister’s living room. “Okay. I messed up. I know it.” She glanced down at the envelope. “This is no way to find out you’re a dad. I can’t believe I was going to do this. I…” She dared to glance up at him. Not moving. Was he even breathing? She pleaded, “Oh, Marcus. I wish you could understand. After how it ended with us, I just didn’t know how to break it to you. This was the only way I could make sure I wouldn’t chicken out and never get around to telling you.”
Marcus stood.
She gulped. “Um. Are we going?”
“Oh, yeah. We’re going.”
Hayley slid the envelope into her purse as he turned and headed for the door. Without a backward glance, he went through the arch to the entrance hallway. She pushed herself upright as she heard the front door open—and then shut, a way-too-final sound.
Kelly sent her a look. “Oh, boy. He’s mad.”
“Maybe he’ll just leave without me….” She almost wished that he would.
“I don’t like this. You sure you’re going to be okay with him?”
She gave her sister a game smile. “I’ll be fine. Really.”
Kelly stepped close and caught her hand. “Call me. If you need me…”
“I will. I promise.”
“I’m here. You know that.”
“I do. I’m glad….”
With a final, reassuring squeeze, Kelly released her.
Outside, Marcus was waiting behind the wheel with the engine running. He stared straight ahead. Hayley got in, stretched the seat belt long to fit over her tummy and hooked it.
Without once glancing in her direction, he backed from the driveway and off they went.
The short ride back to her place was awful. She tried not to squirm in her seat as she wondered if he’d ever look at her again—let alone actually speak.
At her apartment complex, he followed her wordlessly through the iron gate, across the central courtyard and up the steps to her door. She stuck her key in the lock and pushed the door wide.
He took her arm as she moved to enter. “The letter,” he said.
“I…what?”
“Give me my letter.”
“But there’s nothing in it you don’t know now and I don’t see why—”
“You don’t want me to read it.” It was an accusation.
“I didn’t say—”
“The letter,” he repeated. He was looking at her now. Straight at her. She knew that look from two years of working for him, of falling hopelessly and ever-more-totally in love with him. When Marcus got that look, it meant he wouldn’t stop until he had what he wanted. She might as well give