Long-Lost Mom

“You have?”

“Yes. Say something else, just so I know I’m not dreaming.”

The fist around Jenna’s heart loosened. “You sound the same. Perfect.”

“You don’t sound the same at all.”

Jenna would never sound the same again, thanks to the accident, but she didn’t want to talk about that now. “You’re sure? You’re really glad I called?”

“Yes! Where are you? Don’t you dare hang up until you tell me, okay? Please, Jenna, let me see you.”

Jenna hesitated, not because she didn’t want to see her sister, but because she was so stunned.

“Jenna! You are going to let me see you?”

Jenna opened her mouth, uncertain how to prepare her sister.

Kristen started to cry. “Please?”

“Kristen,” Jenna whispered, blinking hard as her sister’s soft sobs sounded in her ears. “Don’t cry. It’s going to be okay. Oh, God, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t...don’t be.” Now she laughed, and that, mixed with the crying, made her difficult to understand, but suddenly Jenna didn’t care because she was laughing and crying at the same time, too.

“I’m just so relieved you’re okay,” Kristen gasped. “And you’re alive. I didn’t know, and—”

“I’m alive.”

“It feels so good to hear you. Jenna, we never talked about what happened—about that big fight with Mom, and then...”

Yeah. And then.

They were both silent as Jenna pushed away the memory of the sexual abuse and then the humiliation that followed.

“And then you got pregnant,” Kristen said quietly. “After that, you were gone.”

The trouble had started about nine months before Jenna had actually left, on a night her mother’s lover had tried to do more than just touch. Again her mother hadn’t believed her, leaving Jenna no choice but to run away for the umpteenth time. She’d run to Stone, and that night they’d become lovers. What they’d shared had been magical, so perfect she’d never been able to get it out of her head, which meant, of course, that the few relationships she’d attempted since had paled in comparison.

Stone had really, truly loved her, and when Jenna realized that, it had terrified her. So had the ensuing scandal when Rand Ridgeway had gone public with his claim that Jenna had tried to seduce him, cleverly turning the tables on the terrified girl she’d been.

“I never meant to judge you, Jenna.”

“I was seventeen and pregnant,” Jenna said flatly into the phone. “Everyone judged me. Not just you and Mom.”

“I’m so sorry for that,” Kristen said in a barely audible voice. “As soon as I was old enough to really understand how terrified and alone you must have felt, I regretted not trying harder to help you. What did you do?”

“I flipped out,” Jenna whispered. “Really flipped out. Just like everyone else. Except Stone.” He’d been her rock, so strong, so caring. When everyone else had pointed fingers and snickered, suggesting she deserved her fate, Stone had stood like a pillar beside her. Her own mother had kicked her out, telling her to never come back. Jenna had been so stubborn, so filled with rage. She had baited her mother, letting her think she’d been sleeping around. That she hadn’t known who the father of her baby was. Jenna had no idea why, except that she’d needed to prove something.

All she’d proved was that she was an idiot.

“Stone would have married me,” she told Kristen now. “He wanted to. But I...”

“You couldn’t handle it? Oh, Jenna, no one could have. It’s all right.”

Jenna had hated herself and everyone around her. “I just ran.” It had been easier for her to do so, although she flinched at the pain of it. At the unbearable agony she’d felt the day she’d sneaked out of the hospital after giving birth. She hadn’t looked back and had made sure to keep herself in enough trouble that she knew they wouldn’t want her back.

Until the accident. Until her second chance.

“You can come back now, Jenna, can’t you?”

Hadn’t she thought about little else? “Yes. I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me.”

“I want more than that,” Kristen demanded suddenly, her voice filled with a smile. “Just tell me—when can we see each other?”

“Well...” Jenna walked with the portable phone into her bathroom to glance at herself in the vanity mirror above the sink.

A stranger stared back. A stranger with tentative hope in her eyes and a rare smile on her lips.

“Jenna! You are going to let me see you, aren’t you?”

“There’s something you should know first.” Jenna bit her lip to keep back her nervous laughter. If she gave in to hysterics now, she’d probably never be able to stop. “And it’s sort of a biggie.”

“What? You can tell me anything. Anything.”

“Okay.” Jenna stared at her completely new face. “But you’d better sit down first. I’ve got a shocker for you.”

“Jenna.” Kristen laughed, and the years between them fell away. “Nothing you could tell me will come as a shock, believe me.”

Jenna smiled into the mirror. “Wanna bet?”

* * *

“I can have the new prototypes ready in—” Stone leaned back to study his calendar “—four weeks tops.” He hadn’t started on them yet—he’d been so busy with other work—but the order was a good one, and he would love the job of creating life-size wooden puzzles to tickle the minds of gifted second graders.

“No, three weeks isn’t enough time,” he said firmly. He had his annual auction coming up, where he donated his creations to child-development centers all over the country. That would keep him busy.

His one-man shop was quickly growing by leaps and bounds, making him thankful he’d gone with his gut instinct six years before, giving up a promising career in architecture. What he did now was infinitely more rewarding.

Still listening to his customer, he reached for his unopened mail. Flipping past the bills, he smiled at an envelope from an old college buddy who also created prototypes—condom prototypes.

It was time to admit he needed help, Stone thought as he opened the envelope. He had for some time now. It was just a matter of hiring a clerk to help with the paperwork, but somehow, he just never got around to it.

Laughter bubbled as a small foil-wrapped package fell into his hands from the envelope. The stick-it note attached read: “Hey, Buddy—thought you might appreciate my latest in the high-tech world of prophylactics.”

Stone lifted the note off and gaped. The condom was plaid.

Grinning, Stone tossed the thing in his drawer and forced himself to concentrate on his telephone conversation. “Should I ship to the individual schools, or do you want them all to go to you?” he asked, and then immediately shook his head. “No, I can’t deliver them in person. Sorry.”

He refused to travel because it meant leaving Sara, something he couldn’t bring himself to do. Yes, they had Mrs. Potts, who would be happy to fill in for him. But Sara hated it when he left. She became weepy, difficult. Clingy.

Stone considered himself pretty tough, but he caved in like putty when it came to Sara. Watching her regress because of his own actions tore at him. No doubt Sara was afraid of losing him, the only real solid presence in her life, something Stone understood all too well. He hated the thought of being separated from her for days at a time, hated what it did to her, so would do just about anything to ensure it didn’t happen. It hadn’t been difficult to come to an important business decision.

If people wanted his educational products in their schools—and he had to believe they did, since they constantly clamored for him to hurry up and build more—then they had to agree to his terms.

He didn’t travel.

Which didn’t ease his ever-growing fear.

What if something did happen to him? Auto accident, illness—it could be anything. And when he was gone, Sara would be all alone. He’d started to lie awake nights worrying about it, and he knew he had to come up with a plan. A will.

He had to guarantee Sara’s safety and care.

He’d put it off for too long now, simply because he hated to admit that he didn’t know what to do. Turning to his family was out of the question.

Ten years ago, when Jenna had gotten pregnant, his family had surprised and shocked him by refusing to believe Sara was his child.

Though Stone tried to tell them the truth, they turned a deaf ear. Jenna’s trouble, they’d said.

Look at the scandal, they’d said.

You’re a fool, they’d said.

Stubbornly he’d stood by Jenna, knowing the truth.

Sara was his child.

Though Jenna had put on a tough front, she’d let Stone see past her wild ways. She’d shown the real Jenna to him, and Stone had loved that frightened, uncertain, self-conscious Jenna with all his heart.

She’d been a virgin the night she and Stone had first made love, and though they’d used protection, somehow she’d gotten pregnant—with his child.

Stone’s family refused to listen to reason. They were wealthy, disdainful of scandal of any kind, and though he’d once thought of them as loving giving people, the truth was, they were snobs. It’d been a huge shock and major disappointment to Stone, but they’d stood firm. If he kept the baby, he’d be disowned. Stone had loved Jenna, loved their unborn baby, but even if he hadn’t, he wanted to be responsible for his actions. He’d kept his baby, for he could do nothing else.

And he ended up with no family, no Jenna, no money. Just Sara. Somehow they’d made it, and God, he didn’t want to remember those first months, how nightmarish they’d been, but he’d done it. They’d done it.

He and Sara were a family now, and it rankled like hell that he, after all this time, needed his parents.

They didn’t need him in return. They had Richard, and Stone knew his brother had never married. He’d never had any kids.

Which meant Sara was the only grandchild his parents had.

How could they ignore that?

How could they ignore her?

Stone continued to listen with half an ear as his client rambled on about the product he was buying, watching with detached interest out his window as two doors down from him, a moving truck pulled up.

A new neighbor.

The back of the truck opened, and two beefy men started to unload. An oak desk and chair. An elaborate computer system. An expensive-looking couch and matching chairs. A huge bulletin board, filing cabinet.

And Cindy Beatty.

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