Once a Good Girl...

He threw her words back in her face. Maybe he was right. “But you did leave. And since I haven’t heard from you for almost nine years, I had absolutely no idea why. You knew where I was. At any time you could have called me to explain why you left, to ask me what I’d said to the sheriff. If you couldn’t reach me, you could have asked Aunt Livi or Ali to get me a message. But you chose not to.”

Victoria inhaled deeply, tired from a long day at work, drained and ready to be finished with this conversation. “None of this matters anymore.”

“It sure as hell does matter.” The sound of the storm door banging into the side of the house made her jump. “I’ve had a son for eight years and no one thought it necessary to tell me?”

“How was I supposed to tell you? I had no idea where you were.”

“You were a very resourceful girl who has no doubt grown into a very resourceful woman.” His voice turned cold. “If you wanted to find me you could have.”

She’d thought about trying, many times. Early on when she’d been so scared about the pregnancy and childbirth, then again, after Aunt Livi’s death, when she’d been desperate for help, for a break from Jake’s incessant crying, for protection from the creditors who’d called night and day. But she’d convinced herself if he didn’t want her, then she didn’t want him. And as much as it pained her to admit it, a part of her had been relieved to not have to deal with the issue of sex between them.

As if during her silence he’d come to some realization, he lifted his hand and ran a gentle finger down the side of her face. “We have a son.”

She didn’t want his tenderness. Not now. “I know we have a son,” she snapped. “I carried him inside my body for nine months. I logged hundreds of miles walking him up and down these hallways when he suffered from colic. I stayed awake night after night because he’d only sleep propped up on my chest and I was scared to fall asleep with him in my bed. I’ve bathed him, bandaged his scrapes and cuddled him when he’s had nightmares. I have taken care of him, loved him, and provided for him as best I could every single day since he was born.”

“If I was here I would have—”

“What you would have done doesn’t matter. It’s what you actually did that matters. And you left. Without a care for me or Jake.”

“If I’d known about Jake I never would have left.”

“So I didn’t matter but a son would have? My father was right about you all along.” She took on a husky man-voice and repeated her father’s harsh words. “A boy like that will ruin your life, Victoria. He’ll find a way to latch onto you and drag you down.” She glared at Kyle and asked the question that’d haunted her for years. “Did you even wear a condom that night? Or were you trying to get me pregnant?”

He recoiled like she’d taken a swing at him.

Years of suppressed hurt, anger, and resentment surged to the surface with a force she couldn’t contain. “Don’t pretend the thought never crossed your mind. My father told me about his visit to the garage to warn you to stay away from me, and his threat that if you didn’t he’d see to it that you did. Is it pure coincidence that very evening you surprised me at the library, took me to a secluded spot, and made it impossible for me to say no?”

“This is insane. I never set out to get you pregnant. You’re turning a beautiful memory into something tawdry.”

“Beautiful memory? You’re joking, right? We were crammed into the back seat of your car. I felt crushed beneath you. I couldn’t move, could barely breathe.”

He looked physically ill. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

At first, she hadn’t spoken up because he’d aroused her to the point she had to know what came next. She’d loved Kyle, had wanted to be with him, wanted him to find pleasure in her body. But as the car heated and the windows steamed up, as his passion increased and his body covered hers, panic had taken over, transporting her back to that terrifying day in the closet.

Not thinking clearly, she’d allowed her father’s words to seep in and take hold. If you don’t keep quiet you’ll have to endure it another half-hour. Keep quiet, she’d instructed herself over and over, just like she’d done all those years before. And using the coping mechanism she’d mastered as a child, she’d imagined she was somewhere else.

After he’d left town, she couldn’t help wondering if he’d been able to tell. If he’d found her so inadequate and disappointing that he couldn’t bring himself to face her.

“Look. I knew your father meant business,” he said. “I thought that night might be the last time we’d be together. I wanted to be your first. I wanted you to always remember it. I wanted you to remember me.”

Oh, she remembered him all right, but not in the way he’d intended. “What about what I wanted? Did you give any thought to that? Because I sure didn’t want to be pregnant at seventeen. I didn’t want to be joked about and ostracized by the kids at school. I didn’t want to miss out on my senior year, senior prom and giving my valedictorian speech. I didn’t want to forego Harvard to get stuck in this small town, going to community college, and owing years of my life to the hospital that paid my tuition. I didn’t want a baby. I didn’t want to lose my father’s love. I didn’t want any of it!”

“You didn’t want me?” a small voice said.

Her son’s voice.

Victoria stiffened, her carefully constructed world crumbling under her feet. Slowly she turned to see Jake standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Honey, I …”

With hurt, wet eyes and a look of complete devastation and utter betrayal he turned and ran. The door to the garage slammed, followed by the side door leading outside. Victoria took off after him, the pain in her right ankle and knee nothing compared to the lacerated walls of her heart. The guilt and shame of her admission squeezed her chest. How could she have been so heartless, so careless and cruel?

On the third step down, Kyle grabbed her from behind. “Give him a few minutes.”

“I can’t. He’ll run into the woods and get lost. He doesn’t have his coat.” He’s upset and alone and thinking his mother didn’t want him, doesn’t love him.

“You’re not wearing any shoes.”

“I don’t care.” She fought against his hold, didn’t care if he was bigger or stronger. Her son needed her and nothing would keep her away. “I have to find him. Explain. Oh, God. What have I done? Let go of me.” She bit his arm.

“Hell.” He yanked one arm away, but held her firmly around the ribs with the other. “Calm down. Tori’s with him.”

“He doesn’t need a dog, he needs his mother,” Victoria screamed.

“What he needs is time to blow off some emotion.”

“You’ve been a father for all of, what, fifteen minutes? You don’t know the first thing about being a parent.”

“Maybe not,” Kyle said calmly. “But I know plenty about being a hurt, angry eight-year-old boy.” He turned her, lifted her chin, and forced her to look into his eyes, to see his concern, his caring. “Trust me. Five minutes and I’ll go after him.”

“I’ll go with you. Let me get my—”

“No.” Kyle stood firm between her and the coat tree. “I’ll bring him back. It’s past time he had his father to look out for him.”

A father.

At twenty-six years of age, Kyle Karlinsky was father to an eight-year-old boy he’d had no idea existed until today. What the hell did he know about raising a kid? His father was certainly no one to emulate. Didn’t matter. He had a son, who was currently trudging through the thick, dank woods behind his home in need of rescue. At least, according to Victoria.

Victoria, who dogged his psyche on a regular basis, his own personal super-ego, despite repeated attempts to purge her with booze and women. Victoria, who’d failed to tell him about his son, denied him the opportunity to know his child from birth, yet had stood up to her father, probably for the first time in her life, to keep their child safe, and had given up her dreams to raise him, virtually on her own.