The You I Never Knew Part 41

"I, um, I was just leaving," she said in a strained voice. She was gone before Sam could think of a single thing to say.

He swung around to glare at Cody. Still no words. His earlier thoughts mocked him. He was totally unprepared for this situation.

Cody tried to brush past him. "I'd better get over to Blue Rock," he muttered.

"The h.e.l.l you will," Sam burst out, planting himself in front of him.

"Hey, man-"

"Don't you hey-man me," Sam said, flexing his hand. "What the h.e.l.l were you thinking, groping her like that?"

"We're both sixteen," Cody pointed out. "And you might not believe this, but I wasn't going to do anything."

"Yeah, sure," Sam said. "I don't believe you."

"I wasn't." Cody jutted his chin out. "But that's between me and Molly, not me and you."

"Under my roof, it's my business."

"Hey, I didn't ask to come here. I'll go back to Seattle anytime, just say the word. But if I'm stuck here, the least I can do is try to make friends."

"Looks like you were trying to make more than that. You've grown up thinking you're ent.i.tled to every G.o.dd.a.m.ned thing in the world." Sam's anger wasn't rational, the way a wildfire wasn't rational. It flared and flamed with a life of its own. "Smart-a.s.s like you ought to know better than to have unprotected s.e.x."

"We were just fooling around," Cody snapped. "Not having s.e.x."

"Only because I happened to show up before things got out of hand."

"You don't know that. You always want to think the worst of me."

Something inside him snapped, and he blew up with anger. "Did you even think for one second what you're risking? Bringing another unwanted baby into the world-"

Sam stopped himself. Too late, he realized what he'd just said. Too late, he recognized the source of his anger. And the deep red flush on Cody's face meant he recognized it, too. Neither of them said a word, but a silent storm howled between them.

And Sam knew in that moment that he loved his son. He knew, because it hurt so bad to hurt him.

The phone rang, shrilling into the tense quiet of the office. Holding Cody with a raised hand, Sam grabbed the receiver from the wall. "Sam McPhee." He frowned as an automated message instructed him to press 1 to accept the collect charges from the incoming call. With a shrug, he pushed the b.u.t.ton.

"Hiya, hon. It's your mama."

He didn't move, but at the unmistakable slur in her voice, he could feel everything inside him curling up, burning down to nothing. "Mama. Where are you? What've you been drinking?"

Cody's pale face sharpened, but Sam couldn't think about the boy now. "Mama? Talk to me."

"Lessee. Made it to Kalispell. They got a honky-tonk here, the Roadkill Grill. Think they'll lemme be in the band? I used to sing real good. 'Member when we cut that alb.u.m in Reno? You were in your playpen still..."

He could hear the lazy slide of liquor through her voice. Jesus, five years. She'd been sober five years, and now this. "Mama, slow down. What happened?"

"That old cow LaNelle fired me from the shop."

"LaNelle Jacobs fired you? Why?" From the corner of his eye, Sam could see Cody edging toward the door. He pinned him in place with a fierce stare. The boy flattened his lips and squinted defiantly, but he didn't leave.

"They said I stole all the money from the cash register. All forty-two bucks of it. A staggering fortune. Jussst... staggering."

"That's absurd, Mama. LaNelle knows you wouldn't steal from her shop."

"Someone saw my car parked there last night. 'S'morning, the cash was gone. 'Course she's gotta blame me. Who else could it be, son? Who the h.e.l.l else could it be?"

"Mama-"

"You never really outgrow what you are, do you son? Folks' opinions of you never really change."

"I'm coming to get you," he said. "Don't move. Get a cup of coffee and sit tight."

She wasn't listening now. He could hear someone asking her if she wanted another tequila sunrise, could hear her cackle with harsh glee. Oh, Mama. Not again, Mama. He slammed down the phone.

"What's going on?" Cody asked, his face strangely still. "Someone's saying she stole from the shop?"

"When I find the son of a b.i.t.c.h who did, I'll kill him, swear to G.o.d I will."

Cody paled. "Hey, it's not the end of the world, man."

"I don't have time to deal with you now," Sam snapped. "I have to go." He grabbed his parka and his keys. "Tell your mom I can't make it tonight. Tell her-" He broke off. "Ah, h.e.l.l. Tell her I'm sorry."

Chapter 49.

How was school today?" Mich.e.l.le's hairbrush hit the carpet with a thunk. Klutz, she thought. She was a bundle of nerves.

"Okay," Cody mumbled into the refrigerator. He stood in the white glow of the interior light, scanning the contents.

Mich.e.l.le picked up the brush and studied her son. He wore his black jeans and leather jacket, and she felt a frisson of unease. For some reason, it struck her that he looked exactly as he had when they'd first come to Crystal City. He wore gloves, concealing his bandaged hand. A knitted hat covered the scar on his head, so there was no evidence of the wound Sam had mended.

She walked toward him. "Is something wrong?" she asked.

He twisted away from her, ducking his head as if to avoid getting an unwanted kiss. "Just the usual." He dropped his backpack on the floor and took out a carton of milk.

"Uh-uh," she said automatically as he put it to his lips. "Use a gla.s.s."

He eyed her over his shoulder as he got a tumbler from the cupboard. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Cody."

He sloshed some of the milk on the counter. Without thinking, she grabbed a paper towel. Annoyed, he took it from her and wiped up his own spill. "I was wondering. Did you... want me? I mean, did you ever think of getting rid of me?"

He had never, ever asked her before. Mich.e.l.le wondered how long he'd held the question inside him, unasked, festering. Tears gathered thickly in her throat, and she touched his cheek. "Oh, Cody. Not for a single second. You were so wanted. You were my life." She swallowed and hoped she wouldn't cry. He had almost never seen her cry. She remembered, with startling clarity, every sensation of being pregnant, and pain was no part of that sensation, no part at all. She had gone for natural childbirth, and she had felt his entire journey from her womb into the world, and seeing his tiny face for the first time had filled her with a fierce sense of purpose. "Having you saved me," she said. "You were the best part of my life, and you still are."

He seemed a little embarra.s.sed by the display his question had incited. "Cool," he said, and took a deep gulp of milk. "What're you all dressed up for?"

She laughed, wanting to hug herself with glee. "Well, I've got some news."

He narrowed his eyes in distrust. When had he learned to do that? To conclude that her good news meant bad news for him? He leaned against the counter, drinking his milk, waiting.

"You know I've been painting lately." It felt good to voice the notion that had been at the back of her mind for days. Saying it aloud made her heart soar. It was impractical, impulsive, but she was determined to reclaim herself. "Like I used to, years ago. I've been thinking about making some changes. Gavin and I are looking into opening an art gallery in Crystal City." She felt almost fearful about how badly she wanted this. How much it meant to her.

His gaze flicked over her-black cashmere trousers, black angora sweater, her good pearls. "So what's with the outfit?"

"Sam's coming over for dinner." She tried to keep the tremor from her voice as she told him the real news. The one thing she wanted more than the next breath of air. "Sam asked me to marry him. I haven't said yes yet, but I'm going to. Tonight."

"s.h.i.+t." He set down his gla.s.s and brushed past her, flopping down on the sofa.

She tasted lipstick as she bit her lip. "I was sort of hoping for a more supportive reaction from you." Don't do it, she wanted to beg him. Don't take this happiness from me. But on the heels of that thought came the thoughts any mother was conditioned to think: How can I do this to my child? How can I rip him out of the middle of his life and plunk him down amid strangers? Isn't there some compromise? Can I have what I want and keep him happy, too?

He was quiet for long, long moments. She was dying to know what was going on in that head of his. Finally, he took a deep breath, looked her square in the eye, and said, "Don't bother waiting for Sam to show up. He took off."

"What do you mean, he took off?"

"He's gone, scram, vamoose."

A chill of disbelief snaked through her. "Gone where?"

"Out of town. He said to tell you..." Cody hung his head.

"What? What did he say? What happened?" Disbelief hardened into a horrible dread. She had to know. She needed a reason. She was inches from shaking this kid's teeth right out of his head.

"I guess he didn't want to be my father after all."

"Oh, for Pete's sake, that's ridiculous. Sam loves me. He wants to love you, Cody-"

"Not anymore." His head hung lower. "Something, um, happened."

She pressed herself against the counter until she felt her surgical scar. What occupied the s.p.a.ce where the kidney used to be? she wondered irrationally.

"Talk, Cody," she said, fixing her attention on him with a will. "Start at the beginning."

"Molly and I were hanging out at his place this afternoon, and he... he acted like I was molesting her or something. We weren't doing anything much, Mom, we weren't."

Mich.e.l.le took a deep breath, trying to a.s.similate everything he'd just told her. "Let me get this straight. You and Molly were at Sam's."

"Yeah." He glowered at the toes of his shoes. "I was riding a horse, and it was great, and then we went into the barn office. We were like, fooling around a little bit, no big deal-"

"Fooling around." Her stomach knotted.

"No big deal," he repeated sullenly. "We're not babies. We know the score. We were fully clothed, Mom, every second. But Sam scared Molly off and started yelling at me."

Overnight, she thought. Overnight her son had changed from a little boy with gra.s.s stains on his knees to practically a grown man... with a man's desires. "Look at it from his perspective. She's a neighbor. The daughter of a friend. Can you blame him?"

"I should've known you'd take his side."

"I'm not taking sides-"

"But you don't believe me. You didn't hear the things he said, Mom. He went into this big insane lecture about safe s.e.x and unwanted babies." Cody folded his arms across his chest. "Then he said he... he doesn't want me for a son."

The pain was sharp, hot. "He can't have said that."

"Call him. Just try it. He won't answer. Swear to G.o.d, he doesn't want me, and good riddance, I say. I don't want him either."

She studied his pale, worried face. And deep in the center of her, a core of ice formed, grew bigger, colder. "Why would you say a thing like that?"

"Because I mean it, Mom. Sam has the hots for you, but that doesn't mean he gives a s.h.i.+t about me."

Mich.e.l.le went through the motions even though her horrified certainty hardened with each creeping moment. She called Edward, who had been in the city all day and had seen neither hide nor hair of Sam. She called Sam's service only to be told Dr. McPhee would return calls when he checked in for his messages. No answer at his mother's. His partner Karl was brusque, telling her to try the service or, if it was an emergency, to go to County.

Her hand was ice-cold and shaking as she hung up the phone for the last time. A terrible sense of deja vu broke over her. She remembered exactly how she had felt that long-ago night, sick and exhilarated with the knowledge of her pregnancy, rus.h.i.+ng over to Sam's house only to discover that he'd left without a word.

He took off. He took off. He took off. Disappeared into the night just like before.

Friday

Chapter 50.

Almost dizzy from lack of sleep, Mich.e.l.le dressed in the gray quiet of the dawn. Cody's bedroom door was firmly shut, and not a sound came from within. She wondered how well she knew her son anymore. She could only guess at what was going through his head. The emotional roller coaster of finding his father so unexpectedly, then having the big quarrel with Sam, was a lot for a kid to handle. A lot for anyone to handle. Yet beneath the hurt and anger, she had detected something a little harder to put her finger on. Evasiveness. Shame, perhaps.

Resolving to talk to Cody about it when he got up, she put on a pair of boots and went over to the main house. She walked into the great room, stood before the fire, and thought of that first night when she and Gavin had sat together in this room. It seemed long ago that they had been so awkward with one another. She'd gone to him because, at long last, he needed her. The irony was that she had needed him just as much.

She pressed a wadded Kleenex to her cheeks. Her father came in, took one look at her, and opened his arms. It felt so right to collapse against him, and the tears spilled again. She knew her father now, and she needed him in a way she never had before. "Sam's gone, Daddy. He and Cody had a fight last night," she said. "It was bad. Cody thinks Sam doesn't want him."

"Cody's wrong. Sam wants his kid. Trust me," Gavin said, bringing her to the sofa and sitting down.

"How do you know?"

Lines deepened in his craggy face. "I did a stupid thing years ago, letting you leave. Before you came to me when your mother died, I didn't think I wanted a kid. I didn't know how to be a father. I sure as h.e.l.l wasn't much good at it. When you left, I convinced myself it was for the best. But I was wrong. I wanted my daughter. I just didn't know how to bring you back. Anyway, that's how I know Sam wants his son. Whatever went on between them won't change that."

"But if Cody doesn't believe Sam wants him, then we've got problems. And something tells me they won't just blow over."

"If he's gone, there's bound to be an explanation. He's not some no-account drifter. He'll be back this time."