Giving Thanks for Baby. Terri Reed

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СКАЧАТЬ just last month, Ross’s SUV’s front windshield had been shattered and another note left behind, demanding they stop investigating the phony records. “Is Kelly there? Is she okay?”

      “She is. Trista, what’s going on?”

      “Nothing.” She rolled her tense shoulders and shifted the receiver to the other side of her head. Her sweatshirt bunched up as she moved. She tugged at it. “I just received the strangest call. When I answered, there was no response, but I’m sure I heard crying.”

      “Hmm. Do you think Mom could have called you?”

      Trista scoffed. “No. She can’t even remember my name. How would she know where to call me?”

      “I have no idea. But Alzheimer’s is a strange disease.”

      A disease that was hereditary. A knot formed in her stomach. “Yes, well…be that as it may, I don’t think it was Mom.”

      “It was probably a wrong number. I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Whoever it was will call back if it was important,” Ross commented. “Kelly says you’re coming over Saturday to cook dinner.”

      “Yep. Kelly requested lasagna. Will you make one of your killer salads?”

      “Of course. Hey, I was thinking of driving out to visit Mom on Sunday after church. Will you come?”

      Trista closed her eyes as guilt and resentment warred in her heart. Ross was so good at visiting their mother in the nursing home outside of Richmond. For Trista, the visits were torture. Michelle Van Zandt barely recognized her only daughter.

      The last time Trista had gone to the home, Michelle had become so upset because she’d thought Trista was there to steal her husband away.

      Henry Van Zandt had died from liver failure years ago. That their mother still worried her husband was cheating on her only served to instill in Trista a loathing to ever go down the matrimonial road again.

      After her disaster of a marriage to Kevin and watching her mother’s decline, Trista vowed to concentrate on her son to make sure he didn’t grow up making the same mistakes his family made. She’d even bought a book on how to prevent Alzheimer’s, for herself and Aidan.

      “Trista?”

      “Uh, I don’t know. We’ll see.” That was as much commitment as she could give at the moment.

      Ross sighed. “We can talk about it more on Saturday.”

      Perfect. Now she was going to have to endure his lecture on how she should forgive their parents for the past and how their mother needed them now. She was well practiced in tuning out her brother’s lectures. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

      She hung up and pushed the play button on the answering machine.

      “Hi, babe. I need to talk with you. Call me, okay?”

      Her ex-husband’s voice filled the room and she clenched her teeth. With a sharp jab of her finger she deleted the message.

      What did he want now? He’d given up total custody of their son in the divorce, in exchange for the condo and all their possessions. She didn’t have anything else for him to take.

      Restless and edgy, she cleaned the updated kitchen, straightened up Aidan’s plethora of toys strewn around the apartment and channel surfed on the twenty-inch TV that Ross had bought for her as a welcoming gift. When that didn’t relax her, she pulled out her laptop and set it on the pine coffee table. She could at least work.

      Once the computer was ready she stared at the screen. She didn’t want to work. Instead, she surfed the Internet looking for fun things to do with Aidan around town.

      A local farm had a pumpkin patch and hayride day coming up. That would be good.

      Hmm. Story time at the new bookstore downtown. Aidan loved listening to stories.

      She drummed her fingers on the table. Ugh! She needed a manicure.

      Maybe Kelly was right. She’d been working too hard and not taking care of herself. She wished she had a friend in town but that was another thing her marriage to Kevin had ruined.

      He’d so monopolized every moment, getting upset when she wanted to spend time with her friends, that she’d eventually let the friendships fade. She didn’t even know how to get hold of any of her old college gang.

      She needed to link up with others who were in the same boat.

      Single and lonely.

      She frowned. She wasn’t lonely. She had Aidan. She just needed someone to talk to.

      What was the name of that online group Kelly mentioned?

      The Kingdom Room.

      Heart pounding with anticipation, she went to the Web site. She hesitated a moment before bolstering her courage and registering. After filling in the blanks and choosing a screen name, she was in.

      For an hour she lurked, reading the posts from the last few days. Men and women both conversed about various aspects of being single. A few mentioned their children. Nothing overly personal or uncomfortable here.

      Okay, this was doable.

      She wasn’t looking for a romantic encounter, just friends to understand.

      With a deep breath, she jumped into the current thread of conversation, hoping to find someone out there to connect with.

      Yet, a little voice inside her head taunted her—only more hurt would be her reward.

      Chapter Two

      By Tuesday morning Scott’s e-mail in-box was bursting.

      He stared at the amount of posts. What was going on?

      After booting up the computer when he first walked into his office, he’d gone in search of some tea. Setting his mug of Earl Grey on the marble coaster on his mahogany desk, he slipped into his fabric-covered chair.

      Normally, he took a moment to let the soothing hues of blues and brown in the office soothe his mind before turning his thoughts to work. But the staggering number of e-mails held his attention.

      He clicked into the in-box and began to scroll through the e-mails. They were all addressed to Called2serve. A dawning realization clenched his gut as he read the posts. Someone, Naomi he was sure, had registered him to The Kingdom Room and added him to their e-mail loop.

      He didn’t have time for this.

      His father had called just as he was leaving the apartment he rented in a private residence east of Main Street. The phone call had been strange. His father had asked if Scott would say a few words at his parents’ fiftieth wedding anniversary. Scott could hear the emotion in his father’s voice and it left Scott feeling off-kilter.

      Joseph Crosby had always been as solid as a hundred-year-old oak tree and just as unbendable.

      His father СКАЧАТЬ