The Hidden Heir

He shrugged. “I guess that’d be okay.”

“All right!” She couldn’t hide her excitement.

“First, we have to clean up the table.” He said this with the slightest glimmer of enthusiasm.

“Okay.” She hoped he didn’t hear the quiver of her voice in that one word. It hurt so bad to watch him hold back like this…afraid to love his own mother. Afraid to count on her the way a child should be able to count on his parent.

She helped her son scrape the plates and put them in the dishwasher, along with their glasses and silverware. They wiped the table together and checked to make sure nothing had been forgotten, such as leaving the milk on the counter.

“Now what?” She looked to him for direction. Let him lead.

“I have to make my bed.” He scratched his head. “I forgot that earlier. Ms. Marla told me you were here and I…forgot.”

Ashley’s heart leapt. He’d heard she was here and he’d gotten excited enough to forget part of his routine. Maybe there was hope for them after all.

“I’m pretty handy at making beds.”

He nodded. “I remember.”

Her heart so heavy she could scarcely breathe, she followed her son up the stairs to the room Marla had kindly decorated in a NASCAR theme just for him. Together, they made the bed and tidied his room.

He showed her his newest models. The tedious work of putting together the model cars was his favorite hobby. While some kids played their video games and watched endless hours of television, Jamie would rather build models than eat when he was hungry. Maybe getting lost in the exacting work was his way of dealing with the hit-and-run visits of his mother.

When he’d finished showing off his latest handiwork, Jamie looked up at his mom and said, “You wanna see my final report card?”

She’d forgotten to look at it last time. He’d told her all about it, but she’d had to go before they’d gotten around to reviewing it together the way they usually did. She’d felt immensely guilty about that. He hadn’t mentioned it again when she’d called him night after night or even when she’d returned for a day here and there. His silence told her how disappointed he was. Though school had been out for more than a month, the oversight obviously still nagged at him.

They sat on the bed, side by side, and he went over each subject, reciting what he liked about it and what he didn’t. Whatever his preference, he always kept an A average.

Ashley felt her spirits soar as she listened to her son talk about the girl who’d chased after him the last couple of weeks of school. Thankfully, he hadn’t had any trouble with bullies this year. Maybe that talk they’d had about him standing up for himself had done the trick. He’d listened well and done a great job handling any situation that arose without crossing the line into the same sort of aggressive behavior himself.

Something inside Ashley stilled, withered just a little as her eyes roved over the final section of the report card with her son’s name on it. At the end of each reporting period in the space indicated for the parent’s signature, Marla had signed her name.

Of course she had. She was Jamie’s legal guardian.

Ashley had known this particular task would fall under her friend’s duties. As were so many other everyday, little things that many mothers took for granted.

Like checking behind his ears after he bathed. Or ensuring that his homework was done. Tucking him in at night. All the things she used to do.

Needing to get past the moment she ruffled his hair, the way she used to when he was about five. He ducked away. But she understood the gesture wasn’t about her touch. Her child was growing up on her. And she was missing most of it.

“I think such a stellar report card deserves a really special treat. What do you say we go to Brewster’s and have one of their triple-decker ice cream cones?”

His face turned serious, that dark gaze settling fully on hers. “Do you have to leave today? Can’t you stay just one night?”

This was the moment she had dreaded even before she’d arrived at Marla’s home. Knowing that question would come had haunted her the entire trip from Waynesville to Springfield.

“You know I’d give anything to stay,” she offered softly, struggling to keep her voice even. “But it’s too risky. The bad men could find you and then they’d take you away and I might never see you again.” She’d told him this story a million times. The idea had always terrified him, but not nearly as much as it terrified her. She knew too well just how true it was.

“Sometimes I think I’m never going to see you again anyway.” His gaze dropped to his lap where his hands rested as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “It feels like forever when you’re gone.”

The bottom dropped out of Ashley’s stomach, leaving an emptiness that instantly began to swell with crushing intensity. “You’re safe with Marla, Jamie. As much as I miss you, I’m willing to sacrifice my own feelings to ensure you’re always safe.”

His eyes locked with hers once more. “What about my feelings? What if I want things to be the way they used to be? I don’t care about the bad men. I just want to be with you.”

The crack in her heart widened, sending a searing pain through her that took her breath away. “I know, sweetie. But we have to be very careful. You don’t understand how bad these men are.”

He stared up at her, his eyes fierce with determination. “I won’t let them hurt you, Mommy. I’ll protect you.”

She hugged him, fought back the tears. “Everything is going to be all right, Jamie. I swear.”

She didn’t know how, but she had to find a way to end this once and for all. But, God, she didn’t have any idea where to begin. She couldn’t depend upon the courts. She had no money for high-powered attorneys. Desmond would have the best…the absolute top in their fields. He would pay off the judge. He would win no matter what. And she would lose.

Fear shuddered through her. Just then, she did something she had never once in all these years done. She prayed that maybe Desmond was on his deathbed. As evil as he was, she had never wished him ill, only that he would leave her and her son alone. But today, as she held her unhappy child so close, she wished with all her heart that the bastard would die and go straight to hell where he belonged.

THAT NIGHT as Ashley helped clean up the kitchen after dinner, she watched her son play cards with Marla’s daughters. At moments like this, he looked happy. He really did. Or was she fooling herself?

She paused, her hand stilling on the plate she was drying. “Is he like this most of the time?” Smiling, laughing, working hard to beat the girls at whatever game they were playing?

Marla leaned against the counter, her own work of putting away the dishes Ashley had dried momentarily on hold. “Yeah. Most of the time. Once in a while, I’ll catch him acting a little down or distant. Not so often.”

Ashley told herself that her friend’s answer made her feel better, but did it? If her son was happy most of the time, did that mean he was getting used to his mother’s absences? If she simply never came back, would he be better off? Be happier? An ache went through her making her breath catch. She couldn’t do that.

“Ashley, listen to me.” Marla took the plate and dish towel and set them aside. She took Ashley’s hands in hers. “Your son loves you more than anything in this world. Not a day passes that he doesn’t mention you.”

She nodded. “I know. I guess I’m just feeling…” She shrugged. “I don’t know…a little more desperate than usual, maybe.”

Marla squeezed her hands. “Of course you are. You’re watching your son grow up from a distance. It’s hell on you.”

“But I know he’s in good hands,” Ashley assured, not wanting to sound ungrateful. “It’s just that I wonder how long we can keep this up.”

“Trust yourself, Ashley. Trust your faith. God’s looking out for you and your son.”

Ashley hugged her dear, dear friend and then she did the hardest thing of all, she said goodbye to her son…again.