A Time To Come Home

Connor hung his suit jacket on one of the brass hooks beside the front door and followed the noise, easily identifying Jaye’s girlish voice. “I like the folder with the Redskins on the cover the best, but the one with the pink unicorn isn’t bad.”

Then he heard Abby’s somewhat deeper voice, light and teasing: “I’m surprised a girl as musical as you pays any attention to football.”

“I like how the players crash into each other,” Jaye stated with enthusiasm. “It’s way cool.”

Connor rounded a corner and the two females came into view. His niece balanced on her knees beside a coffee table stacked with folders, packages of pens, pencils and binders. Abby, sitting on the love seat dressed in a yellow sundress, looked as pretty as a summer flower.

“Hey, Uncle Connor.” Jaye smiled at him with her eyes as well as her lips. “We went shopping for school supplies.”

“I can see that,” he said, moving deeper into the room.

“And I just discovered Jaye has a passion for football.” Abby rose to her feet and walked into his embrace, looping her arms around his neck.

He kissed her, his passion heading in a direction that had nothing to do with football, as it always did whenever he touched her. But he kept the kiss brief because Jaye was in the room.

“Jaye watched a Redskins preseason game with me the other night,” he remarked. “Now she’s hooked.”

“Oh, no,” Abby said dramatically. “That means I’m outnumbered. What am I to do?”

“Learn to like football,” Connor said. “Jaye has.”

“I’d do just about anything for you, Connor Smith.” Abby batted her long, dark eyelashes at him, then scrunched up her face. “But not that.”

He smiled at her antics, wishing he didn’t have to break the lighthearted mood. The envelope in his hand felt as though it was scorching his skin. He held it out to his niece. “I have something for you, Jaye.”

“Really?” Her eyes brightened with the excitement of somebody who never got mail. “Who from?”

“Your mother.”

The color visibly ebbed from her face, the pleasure in her expression gone. Connor glanced at Abby, whose anxiety came across as tangibly as the sick feeling in his gut.

He extended the envelope to Jaye, praying she didn’t possess enough knowledge of post office procedure to notice the stamp hadn’t been cancelled.

It appeared for tense moments as though Jaye would refuse his offering, but then she tore the envelope out of his hand, ripping the plain white paper open as though it contained a Christmas present.

She unfolded a single sheet of paper and read, the hope he’d briefly glimpsed on her young face vanishing. Her mouth formed the mutinous line he hadn’t seen in a very long time. In one swift motion, she ripped the letter in two, letting the pieces drift to the floor.

“I hate her,” she exclaimed before brushing by him and running up the stairs.

His heart dropping like a stone in his chest, Connor picked up the two parts of the letter and pieced them together. Abby came up beside him, touching his arm. “What does it say?”

“Only that she loves her and will make things up to her one day.”

Abby glanced at the now-empty path Jaye had taken when she’d sprinted from the room, then regarded Connor with worry etched into her features. Their minds often operated on similar wavelengths, but never more than now.

“I don’t think your sister realizes how difficult making things up to Jaye is going to be.”

WAY BACK in what seemed like another lifetime, Diana’s mother used to say there was no time like the present…to do her homework, to clean her room, to practice the piano.

The saying had been Diana’s first coherent thought upon awakening in her hotel bed. Possibly because Diana was geographically closer to her mother than she’d been since running away to her aunt’s house as a pregnant teenager.

Or maybe because there was no time like the present—to tell Tyler Benton about Jaye.

The realization that she had to come clean with Tyler had dawned on her slowly, the same way she’d accepted her need to rectify the mess she’d made of her life.

It had gradually become clear that the future she planned to build for her daughter should include more than a better-educated mother with a higher-paying job. Diana had never been close to her own father, but that didn’t justify her in keeping Tyler and Jaye apart. She supposed that, deep in her heart, she’d always recognized that father and daughter deserved to know each other.

Especially because the very valid reason she’d had for keeping Jaye a secret from Tyler no longer applied.

“No time like the present,” she said aloud in a scratchy morning voice that no one besides her could hear.

She had nothing else on her agenda. She couldn’t start her waitressing job at the Gaithersburg location of the national chain she’d worked for in Nashville until Tuesday, the same day classes began. The apartment building where she planned to live wouldn’t have a unit available until Friday.

Today was Saturday, the official start of the Labor Day weekend.

Nothing was stopping her from getting in the car and making the short drive through the Maryland countryside to the town where she’d grown up and Tyler still lived.

Nothing except cowardice.

A memory of the unhappiness she’d glimpse on Jaye’s face in the last few months they’d spent together flashed in Diana’s mind. To be worthy of reuniting with her daughter, she needed to start somewhere.

She sat up and swung her legs off the bed.

As she drove over rolling hills and past lush, green fields inexorably closer to Bentonsville a short time later, she reassured herself that this was the right thing to do. Just as she’d been right years ago when she’d lied to Tyler about her sexual history and left town without telling him she was pregnant.

He’d been such a good friend, sticking steadfastly by her after her brother J.D. died—even after she’d sunk into a dark place where none of the other students at Bentonsville High had dared follow.

He’d kept her company on the black nights when the thought of going home to the house with the empty bedroom her brother would never occupy again had been too painful.

He’d rubbed her back the night she’d gotten so wasted she’d spent half of it emptying the contents of her stomach.

And he’d held her when she cried.

How could she have let him take responsibility for her pregnancy when it would have tarnished his excellent prospects for a bright future? Especially after he’d gushed about being accepted at Harvard?

He hadn’t been just any seventeen-year-old, but along with her brother J.D., he was one of the golden boys of Bentonsville High. Everybody knew Tyler Benton, honor student and all-around great guy, was destined for great things. The town had been named for his great-grandfather, his father was the Laurel County state’s attorney and the senior class had voted Tyler Most Likely to Succeed.

Everybody also knew Diana had gone off the deep end after her brother died: skipping school, shoplifting, drinking. Before Tyler, she’d also made out with a few boys who’d greatly embellished how far they’d gotten with her.

She still remembered the hurt in his eyes when she’d confirmed the false rumors about her loose reputation, the utter look of betrayal on his face the night before she’d left Bentonsville for good.

She blocked out the image, replacing it with the beauty of the countryside. The deep, rich green of the grass hinted at a summer generous with its rain. Wildflowers in purple and yellow added splashes of color. Horses grazed near white-framed homesteads and cool, blue ponds.

The transformation from rural to urban happened gradually, with a gas station and a convenience store announcing the small town ahead. She drove the lightly traveled street past the timeless brick beauty of the town hall, what looked like a newly built fire station and a quaint shopping area where not much had changed.

Cutaway, where her mother had taken her and her brothers for haircuts, still occupied a corner building. She also recognized Bentonsville Butchers, the local dry cleaner and the convenience store where she’d been caught shoplifting cigarettes and beer.

At a red light, she glanced down at the piece of paper lying on the passenger seat. The address she’d gotten from the white pages of an Internet search engine jumped out at her in black, bold letters: 276 Farragut Street.

She’d mapped the location, again on the computer, to help her remember how to get there. Tyler’s neighborhood was grander than the one where she’d grown up, but the suggested route took her through her old haunts.

The cut-through street was long and winding, the houses spaced a fair distance apart. If she turned right at the next corner, she’d reach the house where the mother she hadn’t seen in more than ten years still lived.

She braked at the stop sign, but then continued straight ahead on a road that transported her back in time. For there was the playground where she and her brother J.D. used to compete to see who could swing the highest. Heavy wooden equipment with plastic toddler swings had replaced the metal swing set, but the weeping willow nearby was the same.

Diana remembered sitting motionless on one of the swings after J.D. had been stabbed to death by another teen during his senior year of high school. She’d stared at the tree, wondering how she could feel so miserable without actually weeping. The playground had later become the place she met Tyler when she snuck out of her house.

Not that her parents, consumed by their own grief, would have noticed had she strolled out the front door. Later, her mother had all but pushed her out, screaming that she’d shamed the family instead of recognizing that what her pregnant daughter needed most was support.

She stepped on the gas pedal, driving faster than she should past the playground with its collection of memories, some sad, some merely bittersweet. Within moments, the tenor of the neighborhood changed. The yards became more spacious, the houses bigger, the very feel of her surroundings more exclusive.

She would have known Tyler had fulfilled his early promise even if she hadn’t researched him on the Internet. A third-generation graduate of Harvard Law, he worked as an assistant state’s attorney in the same Laurel County office as his father before him. Tyler had already distinguished himself by winning a number of high-profile cases.

She rolled her car to a stop in front of an impressive two-story Colonial she thought was his, except another man hosed down his golden BMW in the driveway.

Spotting her parked in front of his house, the man turned off his hose and approached her car. Trim, gray-haired and wearing tailored shorts and a polo shirt, he looked like someone who would have his car washed for him. She hit the automatic control that rolled down the window and breathed in the scent of freshly cut grass.

“Can I help you?” The man bent at the waist to peer into the car. “You look lost.”

He didn’t know the half of it, she thought. “I’m looking for 276 Farragut.”

“You’re in front of it.”

“Then Tyler Benton lives here?”

“You’re looking for Ty?” Interest bloomed on his face, but he merely pointed down the street. “You must have transposed the numbers. He lives at 267. Four doors down on the left. The only Cape Cod in the neighborhood. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks.” She rolled up the window, not taking a chance that curiosity would get the better of him, and drove on.

She soon spotted a pale yellow house with blue-shuttered windows, a wide, inviting porch, a spacious lawn and lots of charm. Exactly the kind of place she’d choose if she could afford to buy a single-family house.

Two people stood on the porch, one with wheat-colored hair she instantly recognized as Tyler. She braked, her palms growing slick on the steering wheel. Taller and broader than he’d been at seventeen, he towered over the woman whose hand lightly touched his chest. Her face tilted up to his, her long, black hair cascading down her back.

They both wore sunglasses and casual clothes, as though heading for a picnic or perhaps a day on the water. Tyler’s parents, she remembered, had kept a motor boat docked at a marina on the Potomac River.

With the backs of her eyes stinging, Diana pressed her foot down on the accelerator. Now, obviously, was not the time to approach Tyler. Especially considering the woman might be his wife. She could have discovered his marital status easily enough on line, but she hadn’t thought to check.

Diana blinked rapidly a few times until her eyes felt normal again. She couldn’t let whether or not Tyler was married matter. Not when she’d given up her foolish dreams of a future with him when she was sixteen.

In retrospect, it had been naive to expect Tyler to seek her out after she’d taken refuge at her aunt’s house. Still, she’d envisioned him getting wind of her pregnancy and showing up at the front door. She’d imagined him claiming to know in his heart that he was her baby’s father.

But Tyler never came. He never even called.

She supposed his silence had been understandable. What high school boy sought to be saddled with a baby—or the stupid girl who’d dreamed of becoming his wife?

But she hadn’t considered Tyler to be a typical teenage boy. She’d thought he was… special.

She pushed aside the long-ago hurt and tried to view the new development dispassionately. She needed to think about whether the possibility of Tyler being married impacted her decision to tell him about Jaye. She supposed not. He was either the kind of man who’d seek to develop a relationship with his daughter—or he wasn’t.

She knew from experience that not all men made good fathers, whatever the circumstances. She’d spent most of her formative years in a traditional household with two parents, and she’d never been close to her own father.

Denny Smith had been a good provider, but he’d focused most of his attention on ensuring that J.D.—the second of his three children—developed his amazing physical gifts.

Her mother had explained that Denny had passed on his dreams of playing pro football to his son. Unlike his father, J.D. had a spectacular arm, superior coordination and good speed. Armed with a full scholarship to Penn State, J.D. had also had an excellent chance of making his pro-football dream come true.

Diana didn’t remember resenting J.D. for being the favorite or her father for favoring J.D. That’s just the way it was. In his own way, she knew, her father loved her. When Diana had lived with her aunt during the first years of Jaye’s life, her father had regularly mailed checks to help with baby expenses.

He still wanted to send her money. She’d called him on a lark yesterday, expecting to be grilled about her ten years of silence. Instead he’d talked her ear off about his pregnant second wife and the athletic accomplishments of his young son. Then he’d asked what amount he should fill in on a check she’d had too much pride to accept.

She expected Tyler to be more involved in Jaye’s life than her father had been in hers, but she’d misjudged Tyler before.

She drove on auto pilot, reaching the edge of town before it registered that her fuel gauge light shined at her like a beacon. She sighed, the high cost of gas doing nothing to improve her spirits.

She pulled into the gas station, selected the cheapest grade of fuel, then put the gas pump on automatic. As she watched the dollar amount on the display head quickly upward, a man called her name.

“Diana Smith. Is that really you?”

She glanced up to see a man striding away from a car she assumed was his. About her age with extremely short dark hair and eyes that hinted at his mother’s Asian heritage, she would have known him anywhere.

“Oh, my gosh. Chris Coleman,” she cried.

He met her halfway, picking her up and swinging her around as though she weighed almost nothing. She giggled, feeling like a kid again. After the three-sixty, he set her down but still held her by the shoulders.

“What happened to your hair?” she asked, wondering if she’d ever had such a clear view of his distinctive cheekbones, long straight nose and straight brows. His hair had hung down to his shoulders in high school, with much of it falling into his face.

“I decided to get a clearer view of life,” he said.

She laughed.

“You look good.” His friendly gaze roamed over her, perhaps comparing her to the emotional wreck she’d been when she left town. He hadn’t been in much better shape, his sorrow heightened because he and J.D. had drifted apart in the months before her brother’s death. “With your mom still living in Bentonsville, I hoped I’d run into you one of these days. And today’s the day.”

She didn’t correct his mistaken impression, loath to explain, even to Chris, why she was really in Bentonsville.

“So you never left town?” she asked him.

“I left to go to college in Pennsylvania, a small school called East Stroudsburg.”

“On a football scholarship. I remember you and J.D. talking about it,” she commented as it came back to her. Chris and J.D. had been the only two players on the Bentonsville High team good enough to play at the next level.

“My scholarship paled next to J.D.’s.” Chris fell silent, possibly thinking the same thing as Diana. That J.D. had never played football at Penn State. Or ever again.

“So you returned to Bentonsville after college?”

“Yeah, which is ironic since my parents retired to Florida. I majored in social work. When it came time to look for a job, I found out I was a Maryland boy at heart. How about you? Where have you been all these years, Diana Smith?”

“In Tennessee, mostly,” she answered evasively.

She heard the click of the gas pump turning off and automatically glanced toward her car.

“No way,” he said, sensing the direction her thoughts had taken. “I was heading out of town to spend the weekend with friends, but they’re not expecting me at any specific time. So you’re not getting away until I find out what you were doing in Tennessee. There’s a Starbucks around the corner.”

“A Starbucks? In Bentonsville?”

“Things have changed,” he said. “So how about a cup of joe?”

Why not? she thought. Not only had she always enjoyed Chris’s company, but he’d know exactly how much things had changed since she’d left Bentonsville. Not only with the town, but with Tyler Benton.

CHAPTER TWO

DIANA SIPPED from her caramel-flavored frappuccino, nearly shutting her eyes in delight. She’d managed to rid herself of most of her vices over the years, but not her love of coffee.

With its rich wood-themed interior and strong scent of brewing coffee, the shop resembled any of a hundred other branches of Starbucks. But as Diana settled into a slat-backed chair across from Chris at a table for two, the setting seemed unreal because it was within the borders of her hometown. A place to which she thought she’d never have the guts to return.

She glanced around at the half-dozen or so other patrons, relieved not to recognize any of them. Maybe she was still lacking in the guts department.

Chris leaned back in the chair that looked too small for his frame, grinned and asked, “So what have you been doing with yourself, Tag-Along?”

It had been so long since anyone had used the nickname, she’d forgotten about it. Chris and J.D. had come up with it when they were high school freshmen and Diana was a mere eighth grader. Nothing had seemed cooler than hanging out with the two boys and their friends.

She smiled wryly. “Not following the fun, that’s for sure.”

“Oh, no. Why’s that?”

Regretting her too-frank answer, she affected a shrug. “Life’s not as simple as it was when we were kids. I have responsibilities now. I didn’t go to college. I’ve worked secretarial jobs mainly, with some waitressing thrown in. But making enough money is always a struggle.”

“You’re a single mom, right?”

Diana nodded. She’d left Bentonsville before her pregnancy showed, so she couldn’t be sure how many people knew about Jaye. But Chris wasn’t just anyone. Growing up, he’d spent so much time at her house he’d seemed like a third brother.

“Yeah. Her name’s Jaye.” From the look that passed over Chris’s face, she gathered pointing out she’d named her child after her late brother was unnecessary. “She’s smart and sweet and the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I’d love to meet her.” He sounded sincere, a quality she’d always associated with him. “Is she with your mother?”

She hesitated only briefly before saying, “She’s staying with Connor in Silver Spring until I get settled.”

Her brain spun, devising new replies should he ask follow-up questions but he fastened on something else.

“Until you get settled? What do you mean by that?”

“I’m in the process of moving to Gaithersburg. I’m starting classes this week at a career training center not far from there.” Before he could ask when Jaye would join her, she continued, “But enough about me. What are you up to?”

Chris had always been shrewd. His dark piercing gaze told her he still was, but he let her get away with changing the subject.

“I’m the director of a community center that started up a few years back. I love it. We’ve got programs for seniors, aerobics classes, day care, community theater and meeting room space. We’re always hopping.”

“That’s great, Chris. It seems like you’ve found a job that suits you.”

He tapped a finger on his chin. “Is that another way of saying I’ll never be rich and famous?”

“As though you want to be,” she teased. “If making money was important to you, you never would have gone into social work.”

He lifted both of his hands, palms up. “You’ve got me there.”

She perched her elbows on the table, balanced her chin in her hands and made her eyes dance. “Okay. On to the good stuff. Are you married? Engaged? Seeing anyone?”

His hesitation was so brief she thought she might have imagined it. “Nope, nope and nope. How about you?”

“Ditto,” she said, removing her elbows from the table. She’d dated some over the years but had never felt as intensely about anyone as she had about Tyler. She’d forced herself to put him out of her mind a long time ago, spurred by the crushing knowledge that despite the lies she’d told he would have come after her had he really loved her. “I always thought I’d get married some day, but I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

“I hear you,” Chris said.

Her brain whirled as she tried to figure out how to bring the topic around to Tyler. The more she knew about him, the better prepared she would be to tell him about Jaye. “I imagine a lot of people we went to school with are already married.”

He nodded. “That’s true.”

What to say? Diana wondered. How to say it? “Funny, I just happened to see one of our ex-classmates when I was driving through town. Tyler Benton.”

This time she was sure she didn’t imagine Chris’s body stiffening. She tried to sound nonchalant. “Is Tyler married?”

The seconds ticked by before Chris answered, marked by the heavy beating of her heart. Things would go more smoothly if Tyler wasn’t married, she told herself. Not all wives would be accepting of a child from another relationship.

“No,” Chris finally said, causing the knot in her stomach to unfurl. “Although I don’t expect he’ll wait much longer.”

The knot balled up again. “Do you mean he’s engaged?”

Chris fidgeted in his seat. “Not as far as I know. I meant the right kind of wife can help further the career of a guy like Benton, and the woman he’s dating fits the bill. Any particular reason you’re so curious?”

“Not really, except we used to be friends,” she said quickly while she wondered what kind of impact the sudden appearance of a child would have on Tyler’s life.