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this? What if she told him it just wasn't working?
Yes, but how could she? She saw Rose, scared and sad, hugging herself on the window seat in that
gorgeous bedroom that was still strangely sterile. Her face, always so serious. Her need to hold on tight
to Daddy, because who else did she have?
Me. She has me,Lynn's heart cried.
So, of course, she had no solution to the dilemma. Theyhad to keep doing this. It was noworse, she told
herself, than what many parents subjected their children to after a divorce. As long as those children grew
up knowing they were loved, they forgot about the weekends when they didn't want to go to Daddy's, or
the summers when they were packed off to Mom's. Love was what counted.
Lynnslipped out of the room, surprised, when she checked her watch, to find that it was seven-thirty.
Shelly's usual bedtime was eight, so no wonder after her wretched and exhausting afternoon that she was
already sound asleep! Muffled by a wail,Lynnheard splashes of water, a giggle followed by a deeper
voice.Bathtime. Maybe Rose had been "pookedon," too.
She left the door open a crack. Two steps down the hall,Lynnturned back for another look. Shelly
hadn't stirred. Fingers crossed that she stayed thatway,Lynnwent into Rose's room and sat cross-legged
on the floor, putting puzzles back together. How helpful, she mocked herself, and felt like a
thirteen-year-old girl who just happened to be hanging out in front of a cute boy's house.Oh, do you live
here?
Well, damn it, she wanted just once to tuck her daughter into bed! She closed her eyes briefly, imagining
herself smoothing back Rose's curls, kissing the freckles on her nose, whispering, "Sleep tight, don't let
the bedbugs bite," seeing a soft, sleepy smile light the face of this child she had carried for nine months.
Was that too much to ask?
Adam appeared with Rose in flowered flannel pajamas. For a moment, he hesitated,then nodded stiffly.
"Thank you."
"No problem." Keeping her voice low,Lynnset the last completed puzzle on the pile.
"For some mysterious reason, Pansy here lost her appetite. She doesn't think she wants any dinner."
A sleepy chuckle as Adam settled her into bed. "Rose, Daddy! Not Pansy."
Lynnmade a face. "I think I lost my appetite, too."
"And you didn't eat the same thingsShel  " With a harrumph, he stopped. "Never mind. Rosebud, I'll
betLynnwould like to say good-night, too."
Oh, bless him!Instantly feeling kindlier,Lynnsaid, "I'd love to."
"Sleep well, honey." He kissed his daughter tenderly, carefully tucked blankets around her, and quietly
left the room.
Lynnasked, "Do you have a night-light?"
"Daddy forgot to turn it on." Rose sounded puzzled. "Daddy never forgets."
Daddy had left her something useful to do. Grateful,Lynnturned on the bright porcelain light and then sat
on the edge of the bed. "Sleep tight," she said softly. "Don't let the bedbugs bite."
A small giggle rewarded her. " kay."
Lynnlet herself feel the intense pain and delight she usually denied, the bone-deep connection to this
child. She hungrily looked, and saw herself as she never would in Shelly, who might be prettier and who
she loved unshakably, but who did not look back sleepily with Brian's eyes, whose forehead didn't have
a curve as familiar as the ache in her heart.
Oh, God, she wondered,Am I as bad as Brian? Is passing on my genes so important to me?
But, no, of course it wasn't. She felt the same as she ever had about Shelly. What she had to accept was
that she could so quickly also love a child she hadn't known a month ago.
On a shaky breath, she bent and kissed her daughter's forehead.
Rose accepted the kiss with equanimity. "Are you gonna sleep with Shelly?"
"Yep."
"Sometimes I sleep with Daddy," Rose confided.
"When Shelly gets scared, she sneaks into bed with me, too."
"Oh." Rose pondered. "Daddy says big girls sleep in their own beds."
"Well, I guess big girls do, but you're not so big yet, are you? And even grown-ups get scared
sometimes at night, if they hear a funny noise."
"Daddy doesn't get scared."
Lynnknew for a fact that wasn't true  the idea of losing his Rosebud was enough to scare Daddy to
death. But she only smiled and said, "I wish I didn't." Then she kissed Rose again, this time on that small
freckled nose. "Now, you go to sleep. Maybe Shelly will feel better in the morning and you two can
play."
Rose smiled, sweet and shy. " kay," she said again. "Night,Lynn."
Lynn's heart swelled and her sinuses burned with the effort not to cry, but she kept smiling through them.
"Good night," she murmured.
She left the door open six inches and the hall light on. Thank God, Adam wasn't lurking outside the
door. She needed a minute alone to wipe away the tears and convinceherself that it could be worse: she
might never have known, never have found Rose.
A peek in the guest room assured her that Shelly still slept, her face flushed but her breathing even. Then,
nerving herself,Lynnwent downstairs.
She found Adam in the kitchen. He glanced up, taking in far more than she wanted him to see with one
sweep of his sharp gaze. But he only asked, "Shelly still asleep?"
She nodded.
"It's getting a little late to start the dinner I'd intended. How would French toast grab you? Or an
omelette?"
"Either would be good."
His brows stayed up and he waited.
"French toast." She didn't care.
He'd already had the eggs out on the counter. She watched as he put a pan on to heat and started
cracking eggs into a shallow bowl.
"Thank you for letting metuck her in."
His jaw bunched. "Not much of a gift."
"You could have shooed me out."
"I hope I'm not that selfish."
He whisked the eggs efficiently but with latent violence. Wishing she could be whipped into an
acceptable, smooth form as easily?
"Adam& "
"Do you like syrup?"
Frustration infused her voice. "Yes, but& "
"Let's eat and then talk. Okay?"
Lynnlet out a gusty sigh. "Yes. Fine."
Not at all to her surprise,the French toast was thick, golden brown and crusty. Butter  real butter 
pooled like sunlight. He'd even sprinkled the top with powdered sugar.
They took their plates to the kitchen table set in an alcove surrounded by windows that looked out at the
dark garden. It must be a perfect spot in the morning.
She took her first bite. "This is wonderful! Do you buy your bread at a bakery?"
"Bread machine."
Lynnmurmured with pleasure again. She must have been starved, she realized. She'd gone to a sandwich
shop for lunch only to give herself something to do, one more way to kill the hours while she was exiled,
but the sandwich had been dry and the turkey the kind that tasted fake. She'd had only a few bites.
"We hardly know each other," Adam said suddenly. "I think that's my fault."
Lynnset down her fork. "Yes. It is."
He acknowledged the hit with a grimace. "I'd like to change that. Tell me something about yourself.
Where did you grow up? How'd you end up with a bookstore?"
"Eugene." She sounded rusty. She had the sweaty-palmed feel of a fifth-grader standing up in front of the
class to give a presentation. "I grew up inEugene." That sounded bald all byitself , so words kept coming.
"My mother was the secretary for the History department at the university. I never met my father. I think
my mother had an affair, which isn't at all like her, but she wasn't married and didn't like to talk about
him. 'It was just one of those things,' she always says."
Adam listened to her with the same concentration he probably gave to stock quotes on the Internet. He
didn't interrupt, didn't look away,gave no sign of being bored.Lynncouldn't remember the last time
anyone had really wanted to hear abouther . [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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