The Bad Son

More tears followed and she didn’t bother to brush them away. She needed to cry, to cleanse away the heartache and to find the strength to say goodbye to Beau.

That night as she lay in bed her arms ached to hold him, to see the warmth in his eyes, feel his body against hers and to fulfill a need in her that she’d been denying for a long time. She wanted Beau in all the ways a woman wanted a man she loved.

Tell him.

The silence mingled with the darkness and the fear in her was very real, holding her back. Turning the light on wouldn’t help. She’d still be the same person, a person no one could love.

Living without Beau was better than living with his rejection, which inevitably would come. Tomorrow she’d be better. Tomorrow she’d be busy with Delia and the baby. Tomorrow she would find the strength to face a future without Beau.

CHAPTER FOUR

TOSSING AND TURNING, Beau had a restless night. Toward dawn he gave up the struggle, showered and dressed. Today was the beginning of a new Beau—a new life. He wasn’t pining for Macy anymore. The pain of her rejection was still very raw, but he’d survive.

He had several things he wanted to do today. First, he intended to buy a baseball glove for Ben, drive out to the farm, and teach him how to use it. He would enjoy that as much as Ben. Second, he planned to talk to his mother again and try to make her understand that the McCain family was strong and stable.

As he backed out of his drive, he didn’t see a light in Macy’s condo. She’d probably already left for the hospital. He knew she’d have a constant vigil there and wear herself out completely. He grimaced at his thoughts. Rule number one—he had to stop thinking and worrying about Macy. Rule number two—same as above.

He checked in at his office, then headed for a sporting goods store.

MACY SLEPT VERY LITTLE. As the sun crept through the clouds, she was jogging through the neighborhood breathing in the early morning breeze. At fifty degrees the air was fresh and invigorating. The oaks, elms and ash trees stood stiffly from the brunt of winter, but renewed energy filled the atmosphere with the inviting taste of spring. The stiffness would give way to a burst of new life, color and growth.

As uplifting as the outdoors was, it couldn’t stop her thoughts. She cursed herself for being a coward and not telling Beau the truth. In not doing so she’d hurt him and that kept her in turmoil. But she’d done the right thing. Letting Beau go was best for him. Now she had to make herself believe that.

When she returned to the condo, she got ready to go to the hospital. She was eager to see Delia and the baby. The phone rang just as she grabbed her purse. It was the lady at the animal shelter—they had a dog that needed help. She quickly made the trip to the shelter.

“Hi, Judy,” she said, walking into the building that always smelled of disinfectant. Barking dogs could be heard from the back.

“Macy.” Judy stood at a counter writing something in a notebook, her features marked with sadness. “I was just fixing to call you.”

“Why?”

“The dog died about five minutes ago.”

“Oh.” Her expression crumbled and a tear slipped from her eye. “What happened?”

“Two neighbors were arguing over the dog. He kept getting into the neighbor’s yard; digging in the flowerbeds and making a mess. The neighbor repeatedly told the owner to keep the dog in his own yard. But the owner didn’t comply. The neighbor caught the dog digging again and he kicked him into the fence, injuring him. The dog was lifeless, so he called us. When we phoned the owner, he said we could keep him. Nice, huh?”

Macy only nodded.

“A report has been filed with the police department, but other than that there’s nothing we can do. The vet said his internal injuries were too severe. I’m sorry.”

Macy nodded again, her vocal cords locked.

“Thank you, Macy, for caring so much. I knew if the dog had a chance, it would be with you.”

She turned toward the door.

“Macy.”

She looked back.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.” She found her voice. “I’m fine, but sometimes this kind of cruelty gets to me. I’ll talk to you later.”

In her car, the tears flowed freely and she made no effort to stop them. After a moment she gained control. She was stronger than this. She had to be. And it was tomorrow—a new beginning with Delia and her baby.

Her mind set, her resolve strong, she drove to the hospital anxious to see how her sister and niece were doing. The hospital administrator and Macy’s supervisor were in the office next to the nursery. Macy wondered what was going on. As she reached for scrubs to go into the nursery her supervisor, Harriet, called to her.

“Macy, may I speak with you, please?”

Macy followed her into the office and shook hands with Mike Goodman, the administrator. “We have a problem,” he said.

She immediately thought the tests had come back and something was seriously wrong with Zoë. A feeling of déjà vu came over her. She braced herself for what she knew was coming.

Mike handed her a note. “The night nurse found this on your sister’s bed this morning.”

She stared down at the paper in her hand. Scribbled in large letters was: Macy, I can’t do this. I can’t deal with a sick baby. Take care of Zoë. Delia

Trying to calm her erratic pulse, she took a deep breath. Delia had left—without her baby. Macy hadn’t expected this, but then Delia had been acting strange since she’d showed up on the doorstep. Had she planned this all along? Or had fear gotten the best of her? Macy experienced a moment of anger and sadness.

“We’ve contacted Child Protective Services,” Harriet said. “It’s standard procedure when a baby is abandoned. You know that.”

A deep sense of unease filled her. If they called CPS, that meant they were turning the baby over to them—to strangers. No way would she let that happen. She would take care of Zoë until Delia returned.

“I’m the baby’s aunt and my sister says in the note for me to care for Zoë. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“The hospital has to follow procedure or we could be liable if something happened to the baby.” Mike made his position clear. “If you want the baby, I suggest you hire a lawyer and make it legal. I’m sure CPS will be willing to work with you and I’d be happy to vouch for your character.” His cell rang. “Excuse me.” As he took the call, Harriet pulled her to the side.

“I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. If you really want to keep the baby, call a lawyer. But it’s the weekend and you won’t be able to hire one until Monday.”

“Thanks, Harriet. I’m aware of the rules, but this is my niece and I don’t want her to go to strangers. I can take care of her.”

“Well, the baby’s test results haven’t come back yet so you probably have until Monday before they move Zoë.”

Macy walked out into the hall feeling numb. How could Delia do this? What was she thinking? This was typical of her sister, though. She always ran when things got rough, but she just had a baby and needed rest and care. Where was she? Delia, what have you done? Please call me. I’ll help you. She turned her thoughts to a more pressing matter—finding a way to keep Zoë.

She knew a lawyer—a good one. Calling Beau was out of the question, though. She’d hurt him enough. She couldn’t just pick up the phone and call as if nothing had happened between them. She’d find another lawyer.

Walking to the large picture window of the nursery, she watched Zoë, her little chest moving up and down. If she did have a heart problem, she would need someone to love and care for her, to give her their undivided attention. In foster homes, there were usually several children and special attention wouldn’t be a priority. Zoë moved her tiny hand and Macy’s heart contracted. She couldn’t allow her to go to strangers. In that instant, she knew she’d do anything to keep her.

Even call Beau.

BEAU CAME OUT of the sporting goods store with the best baseball glove he could buy. He’d even bought a new ball, the kind used in Little League. Now he’d drive out to the farm and surprise Jake and his family. That would help him to feel better and to get another perspective on his decision.

As he climbed into his car, his cell rang. Macy. Why was she calling him? He started to ignore it, but he wasn’t sixteen. He was an adult and could handle talking to her.

“Hello.”