Their Secret Child. Mary J. Forbes

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СКАЧАТЬ if he’d checked out a novel yesterday, when he was eighteen and was still favored in the circle of football, Friday-night games and girls.

      Except, he wasn’t eighteen, he was thirty-three. And a father to an almost thirteen-year-old. A man with a shoulder that one day would likely attract arthritis.

      In the children’s corner he spotted Addie kneeling on the floor with Becky and Michaela. Heads bent together, both girls had several books scattered between them.

      Addie’s eyes lifted at his approach. “Skip.”

      Naturally she wouldn’t make a scene with her child and Becky this close, but just the same he caught the edge she spun on his name.

      “Addie.” For the first time, he noticed she wore running gear: black shorts, yellow breathable shirt, yellow visor cap and a pair of gel-cushioned ASICS jogging shoes. His eyes went to the curve of her tawny ponytail; she looked Becky’s age.

      “Hey, Dad.” Grinning, his daughter held up two small novels.

      “Michaela can read chapter books already. Isn’t that great?”

      “That’s terrific, honey.”

      Murmuring to Michaela, Addie rose to her feet.

      “We’ll be fine, Ms. Malloy,” Skip heard Becky respond.

      Addie touched the smaller child’s hair before stepping around the pair and walking to where he stood.

      Her eyes—storm-blue eyes—beckoned him across the room to the fiction section. There, well out of earshot of the kids, she faced him. “Are you here to check out some books?” Why did you follow me into the library? her eyes asked.

      “My daughter wanted to say hello to your girl,” he said.

      “Oh.” She blinked.

      “Look, Addie—”

      “No, you look, Skip. I know we’ll be seeing each other in town. Except for the very rich living on the water, the island hasn’t changed much over the years. You probably read the stats on Burnt Bend’s welcome sign.”

      “Population one-thousand and eight-nine?” he asked, and felt a corner of his mouth lift. “By my calculations, it’s shot up a count of eighty-four since I left.”

      “Laugh all you want. The point is it’s a small place, a small island. People know each other. They talk. Get my meaning?”

      He sobered. “And you don’t want them talking about us.”

      “As I said—”

      “Yeah. I know. There is no us.”

      “No.”

      Her eyes captivated him. Once, long, long ago, he’d whispered that he could have drowned in her eyes. Clichéd, he knew. Truth was he had drowned in her soul. Until his father had yanked him out and kicked him to shore.

      Skip took a deep breath. “Addie, can we call a truce? What happened thirteen years ago…We can’t bring that time back, can’t revert to the past.” Her eyes hardened. Dammit, he was saying it all wrong. “Look, what I mean is, if I could, I’d go back. I’d change it all. You were every—”

      “Excuse me. My daughter’s made her choice.” She stepped around him and joined Michaela and Becky at the front counter. Several minutes later, the girls said goodbye and the Malloys left.

      “Dad?” Becky whispered. “What’s going on?”

      He pretended to study titles on the shelves. “Nothing.”

      “Yes, there is. Something’s up between you and Ms. Malloy. I can tell.” His daughter’s eyes narrowed. “You know her, don’t you? From when you lived here. Did you go to school together or something?”

      Or something. He wouldn’t lie. “I’ve known her since we were kids. But, I’d rather not talk about it right now, okay?”

      “Sure. Whatever.”

      He exhaled a lungful of air. “It’s…um, complicated, Bean.”

      “No worries,” she said, and shrugged. “No sense crying over spilled milk. That’s what Jesse always said.”

      Skip didn’t want to discuss her adopted father. However, he admitted, “He was right. Did you choose a novel?”

      She held up a copy of Forever In Blue and he chuckled. She loved the “traveling pants” series. Last month she’d devoured Girls in Pants. “Which one is that?”

      “The fourth. And I’m getting this one, too.” She held up a copy of Birdhouses You Can Build In A Day. “Then we can have baby birds every year.” Her smile dazzled him.

      “Fine.” He selected a novel without reading the title or the author before heading for the checkout counter. “We need a couple of library cards,” he told the librarian, the same woman who had ruled the books in the building during his high school days. She’d been ancient back then, too.

      “Well, now,” she said, her eyes sharp and keen. “Skip Dalton. Heard you were back in town.”

      “Yes, ma’am, Ms. Brookley.” And before she could allude to something unsavory, he added, “This is my daughter, Becky.”

      The old woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t say. What grade will you start in September, Becky?”

      “Seventh.”

      “You good in math?” The old lady typed their names onto the cards.

      “Yeah. I mean, yes.”

      “Then you’ll have no trouble with Ms. Malloy. She’ll be your teacher.” The librarian cast Skip a censured glance, one he read clearly: You’ve got nerve coming back here with your kid after leaving Addie to give up hers.

      Three minutes later he filled his lungs with tangy ocean air as they walked from the musty room and the old lady’s scorn into sunshine.

      “Let’s see what kind of mailboxes they have at the hardware store,” he said, and started for the store across the street.

      “Dad,” Becky began, “I want to know what’s up with you and Ms. Malloy. And don’t say nothing. I saw the way she was looking at you.”

      “And how was that?”

      “Like she wanted to bite your head off.”

      And then some. “It’s a long story, Bean. One day I’ll tell you, I promise.”

      “Why not today?”

      “There are some things she and I need to work out first, okay?”

      They crossed the street and walked down the sidewalk.

      “Was she like your girlfriend in high school?”

      Grinning, СКАЧАТЬ