The Child They Didn't Expect Read online

  “You don’t understand,” Ali replied, putting her glass down on the table and twisting her hands together.

  “Then tell me, so I can do something about it.”

  “There’s nothing you can do, Ronin. It’s not just that my husband cheated on me with your sister. It’s not just that together they created a baby, or even that I ended up looking after that baby when he came home from hospital. None of that really matters now.”

  “No, you’re right. We matter. Working out a solution to what’s keeping us apart is what matters most.”

  “You’re not listening to me. There is no solution. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I’m sure that when I came out to see you after Hawaii, you said you’d always imagined filling your house with kids, yes?”

  “Y-es,” Ronin answered carefully, his gaze not budging from her face for a second.

  “And didn’t you imply to your mother that you planned to give Joshie brothers and sisters in the future?”

  “I did, but I’m not in a hurry for that, Ali. We can wait.”

  She gritted her teeth. Did she have to spell it out in foot-high letters? “Ronin, you won’t ever have that with me. I can’t have children. Ever.”

  His eyes dulled a little, but only for a second. Before she knew it they’d fired up again, deepening and glittering in the soft light of her sitting room.

  “We’ll have Joshua. That’s fine. You love him—I saw it with my own eyes. Surely you don’t love him any less now because of who his parents were? We can make this work, trust me. If I have no other children than him, I can live with that.”

  She swallowed against the lump in her throat and gave a humorless laugh. “Live with that? For now, maybe. But what about a year from now, or five years from now? What about when your friends have children? When you see families down at the beach or playing in the park? What then? Can you honestly tell me you won’t regret not having had more children of your own?”

  His silence gave her all the answer she needed.

  “And what about me?” she continued, pressing her advantage. “How do you think I’ll feel, seeing those families, knowing I’m the reason you can’t have one? How can I feel like anything other than a failure as a woman when I’m often reminded of what I can’t give you? When our only child is, quite literally, the son I could never give my husband?”

  She stood up from her seat, her legs unstable and weak beneath her. As much as she loved him, there was no way she’d put either of them through the hell that she knew would come. Even if he thought he loved her now, she knew regrets would eventually peel away their affection for one another until all that was left was resentment and reproach.

  “I’d like you to leave now,” she said, as levelly as she was able.

  She walked to the front door and held it open, leaving him no other choice but to go.

  When Ronin drew level with her, he stopped. “You’ve got it all wrong, Ali. We can make this work. I know we can.”

  “You forget, Ronin. I’ve been through all of that, and it hurt. In fact it hurt so badly that I’m never going to put myself in that position again.”

  Fifteen

  For the duration of his forty-minute drive back home, Ronin turned over every word Ali had said during their meeting. For the first time in his life he was up against a problem that refused to be solved.

  And despite what she seemed to think, her infertility was not the problem. So what if she couldn’t have children? That wasn’t the be-all and end-all of his existence. He loved her. Not her ability to procreate, and not her instinctive skill as a mother. Her. The problem was her refusal to believe that she could be enough—that he loved her far more than any vague dreams of having a big family.

  He groaned out loud. And had he told her that? Had he reassured her that he didn’t just look at her as a baby-making machine? Had he so much as hinted at the fact that even if they didn’t have Joshua in their lives that she would be enough for him, for all time?

  And he thought that he was so clever. That he was Mr. Organized. That the right decision could always be reached with sound deductive reasoning. There was nothing reasonable about the cards life had dealt to Ali. No clear-cut guidelines existed to show a person how to handle successive blows like that. Life didn’t come with a handbook, and after the number that R.J. had done on her it was no wonder she felt so insecure about herself.

  A part of him wanted to turn his car around and head straight back to her tiny apartment and make his claim on her heart. To tell her he loved her and that he would make everything all right. But the other part, the logical part that ruled his life and governed his decisions, could see that not even a declaration of love would convince Ali that he meant what he said.

  But there had to be something. One way or another, he’d nail down a resolution to her fears. He just had to.

  * * *

  A week later, Ronin walked the hallway between the nursery and his master suite with Joshua on his shoulder. The baby simply would not settle down for his afternoon sleep. He’d been fussy and cranky as all get-out for nearly two weeks now, and had failed to make any significant weight gain since Ali had left. Could it be that he missed her as much as Ronin did? Or was this just one of so many different facets of raising a child?

  “Would you like me to take him, Mr. Marshall?” the day nanny asked as she came upstairs with a bundle of Joshie’s laundry.

  It was remarkable the amount of work one tiny baby created, Ronin thought. He wondered anew how single parents who couldn’t afford professional childcare coped with the responsibility and the workload. With the doubts about whether you were doing the right thing, and the fears of what might happen if you didn’t. It reminded him that he hadn’t shown Ali anywhere near sufficient appreciation for what she’d done caring for the fretting child in his arms on her own, as she had when he’d first gotten out of the hospital.

  “It’s okay,” Ronin replied. “He’ll settle, eventually.”

  He didn’t want to simply hand Joshua off to the nearest set of willing hands. He’d taken his sister’s baby on with all that had entailed. And if that meant walking him up and down this hallway until he wore a track in the carpet, then that’s exactly what he’d do. It wasn’t easy, though, and a man could go deaf with the noise reverberating in his ear.

  Ronin took his guardianship seriously, as he did any project he accepted. Except this was different in so many ways. He’d never been as emotionally invested in his work projects as he was in this tiny individual. And while he loved his work, it certainly didn’t hold a candle to how he’d felt when, a couple of days ago, Joshie had beamed a gummy smile in his direction.

  But the baby wasn’t smiling now. Another ten minutes felt like sixty. Ronin was suddenly reminded of how quickly Joshua had settled when he’d held him in the hospital. What had they called it again? Kangaroo cuddles. Anything was worth a shot. He went into the nursery and put Joshua on the change table while he quickly pulled off his T-shirt, then eased the baby’s onesie off as well. Clad only in his jeans and with Joshie in just a diaper, he sat down in the rocker and slung a blanket around them both to keep them warm.

  The baby headbutted him a few times, still voicing his discontent, but as Ronin set the chair to move gently back and forth, Joshie finally calmed and dropped off to sleep. Ronin’s first instinct was to put the baby back in his bassinet and leave him to it, but as he looked down at his nephew a new sense of wonderment stole over him. He’d forgotten how special it felt to hold the baby to his heart. To feel his little sigh of release as he let go of wakefulness and slid into slumber.

  Only six weeks old and Joshua had already changed so much from the helpless scrap Ronin had first seen in the newborn intensive care unit. Ronin wasn’t the kind of man who gave his heart easily, but when he did, he went all the way, and he knew without doubt that he’d
cross shark-infested waters if Joshua needed him on the other side. He’d do anything to protect Joshie—to make sure he was safe and happy.

  So what did that really mean? What would it take to give Joshie the life that he deserved? Ronin had been convinced that the rotation of nannies would be enough to see to the baby’s care, freeing him up to lend a hand when possible and mostly just oversee it all. But the past two weeks had proven that that wasn’t enough. Joshie needed something more—something that Ronin seemingly couldn’t give the baby, no matter how much he loved him. In fact, it was because he loved his nephew so much that he had to come to terms with the truth.

  He’d followed his sister’s wishes by stepping up to raise her son, but had he really done what was best? Was his certainty that he could handle the challenges of being a parent well-founded, or was it just arrogant? Was he overconfident in his abilities to complete any task he laid out for himself? Had his pride, and his certainty in his own abilities, blinded him to what the baby really needed?

  He thought back to CeeCee and R.J.’s funeral, to his cousin Julia’s offer to take the baby and raise him with her family. Should he have done that? Given Joshie a mum and a dad? Would it have been the best thing for Joshie in the long run? He couldn’t say one way or the other, but he knew it was an idea he’d have to seriously consider. Joshie’s future was at stake, and he couldn’t afford to make the wrong choice. Nor would he forgive himself if he denied the baby the chance to have a loving mother’s care—care that he was obviously missing since Ali had left.

  But as he weighed his decision over in his mind another thought butted in from left field. He turned the idea this way and that, examining it from all angles. It would be risky, he thought, and he couldn’t go at it halfheartedly—it was something to which he had to be prepared to commit fully. Could he do it?

  He looked down at the sleeping baby nestled against him. Love and devotion filled him in equal proportion. Of course he could do it if he had to, no matter how much it contradicted his every instinct to hold on. He’d do whatever was best for Joshua, always.

  Carefully, Ronin rose from the rocker and tucked the baby into his bassinet, making sure his bedcovers were snugly tucked around him. Ronin tugged his shirt back on and exited the nursery, bumping into the day nanny as he did so.

  “Success?” she said softly, with a conspiratorial smile.

  “Yes. It was a bit of a battle of wills, but we got there in the end.”

  “He’s lucky to have you.”

  “I think I’m lucky to have him,” Ronin replied before making his way downstairs to his office.

  He was lucky to have Joshua, which made what he was about to do all the more important. And he had to do it right—for everyone’s sakes.

  * * *

  By Monday morning everything was in place. Ronin secured Joshua in his car seat in the car and headed toward Best for Baby. Joshua, thankfully, slept through the morning rush hour traffic that kept them bound in gridlock on the Southern Motorway, stirring only briefly when Ronin pulled into the visitor parking at Ali’s office. He didn’t see her car there, which promised a potential wrinkle in his plans, but he knew he wouldn’t be that easily deterred. He’d find out when she was due in and adjust accordingly.

  With the car seat hooked over his arm, he entered the office. Deb looked up from the reception desk with a smile as he pushed open the doors. A smile that froze, then faded, as she recognized him.

  “Can I help you?” she asked, in an arctic tone.

  “I’d like to see Ali. It’s important.”

  “She’s not here. In fact, I don’t expect her in all day.”

  The woman looked uncomfortable, almost pitying, as she imparted the information.

  “As I said, it’s important.” He hefted Joshie’s carrier onto the reception desk and saw Deb’s eyes soften as she looked upon his, currently, angelic face.

  “He’s doing well, now, is he?” she asked, looking up briefly at Ronin.

  “Not so great these past couple of weeks. Neither of us are.”

  She got his point immediately.

  “He misses Ali?”

  “I’ve taken him to his pediatrician and she confirmed there’s nothing physically wrong with him, so yes, I believe so.”

  Deb reached out, and with the back of one finger stroked Joshua’s round little cheek.

  “It’s a crime that she can’t have babies, you know that.”

  “It is,” he agreed vehemently.

  “But the worst crime is the way it makes her feel about herself—as if she doesn’t hold value as a woman without the ability to bear children. I don’t want to speak ill of the dead, but Richard crushed her sense of self-worth when he left the way that he did. For a while her family and I didn’t expect her to recover, but after the divorce was finalized, she rallied. That’s when she poured everything she had into this place. All her longing, all her love, it goes into every contract we make, every family she helps.”

  Ronin didn’t speak—a tactic he’d learned many years ago that usually led him to exactly the information he wanted. Most people were uncomfortable with a vacuum of silence. It appeared Deb was no different from the rest.

  “If I tell you where she is, will you promise not to hurt her? If you do, I will have to hurt you.”

  He looked at the diminutive figure seated behind the reception desk. Based on her build he doubted the woman could hurt a fly, but given the look in her eyes, Ronin chose his words carefully. “It isn’t, and has never been, my intention to hurt her.”

  Deb gave him a hard look. “I’d like to ask you your intentions, but I have a feeling you’d probably tell me they’re none of my business.”

  He couldn’t help it—he smiled at her perceptiveness. “You’re probably right.”

  She smiled in return and grabbed a small sheet of paper, on which she scrawled an address.

  “The tenant above her had a water leak and it flooded Ali’s apartment. She’s staying a few nights at her parents’ house while her landlord makes the necessary repairs and dries her place out. She’s working from there today. And her family’s away, just in case you were wondering.”

  “Thank you,” he said, studying the address and then slipping the paper into his pocket.

  Knowing her parents weren’t around was a relief. While he was prepared to do this with an audience if he had to, he vastly preferred to keep this just between the three of them.

  “Mr. Marshall, I meant what I said about hurting her.”

  “And I meant what I said, too.”

  She nodded, accepting that would have to suffice.

  “As long as we’re clear on that.”

  “Crystal,” he replied, reaching for the carrier.

  As he neared the door, Deb caught his attention once more.

  “Mr. Marshall?”

  He turned around.

  “For what it’s worth, she’s missed you, too. Both of you. Good luck.”

  He smiled in response. He needed all the luck he could get. Everything hinged on this going as he’d hoped. Everything.

  * * *

  Ali’s parents’ house was a simple weatherboard bungalow in one of the older parts of town. A bed of tired-looking standard roses stood in a circular garden in the middle of the front lawn. He walked up the narrow concrete front path with a now wide-awake Joshua in the car seat. The baby startled when Ronin rapped on the multipaned rippled glass front door, but he didn’t cry.

  Ronin spied Ali coming up a hallway toward the door. She hesitated when she figured out it was him, but then she eventually lifted an arm and warily opened the door.

  “What do I have to say to you, Ronin? I told you I don’t want to see you anymore.”

  Dressed simply in jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, she’d never looked so ap
pealing. His hands itched to reach out and touch her. To trace the signs of tiredness that were drawn on her face. To kiss the firm set of her lips into a softer, more welcoming state. He swallowed and drew in a breath. This wasn’t going to be easy, but then again, he certainly didn’t expect it to be.

  “I thought you might like to say goodbye to Joshua before he leaves.”

  She paled, her gaze flicking from the baby to him. “L-leaves? Why?”

  He used the silence tactic, determinedly holding her gaze.

  Ali sighed and opened the door a little wider. “You’d better come in.”

  She led him into a simply furnished sitting room. He looked around, seeing the everyday things that made up a family’s life. The photos on the display cabinet, the clumsy school project crafts and sculptures that took pride of place within it, peppered in between fine china cups and saucers that probably never so much as saw a drop of tea or a cookie unless “company” came to visit. He put Joshua’s carrier on a floral-covered couch and stepped over to look at the photo frames on the cabinet.

  So many of them, he thought, and all of them family. He picked Ali out immediately in a picture of four little girls, arrayed from left to right, oldest to youngest. He felt his heart tug. She’d grown up surrounded by family. A family that had expanded as her sisters, who he recognized in newer photos, had children of their own. He felt a jolt of shock as he recognized R.J. in a frame shoved to the back—or, more particularly, R.J. and Ali on their wedding day.

  Her dress was simple and she had such a look of optimism and devotion on her face as she looked up at her new husband. So much hope, so many dreams. Could Ronin even begin to hope that one day he might see that look on her face when it was turned to him? There was only one way to find out.

  “Well?” Ali demanded from behind him. “What did you mean about Joshua leaving?”