The Daddy Secret

She glanced across the room at Rick, watching him, gauging his reaction. He remained silent for so long, she finally said, “You’re not saying anything.”

“Yes, I know. It’s a lot to think about. And I’m not sure how I feel. Confused and overwhelmed, I guess. But in a way, I feel cheated.”

“Why is that? You agreed to give him up.”

Those blue eyes struck something deep inside of her, setting her heart on end. “I offered to marry you, Mallory.”

“We were kids, Rick. You had no job. No way of supporting us. You were living with another family back then. Remember?”

“I know, but I was willing to do whatever I had to.”

Mallory crossed her arms. “And if we’d gotten married when we were teenagers, where would we be now?”

He shrugged. “Who the hell knows?”

She waited a beat, then asked, “So now what?”

He blew out a breath. “In some ways, I have no more to offer Lucas now than I did ten years ago, Mallory. I have no idea how to be a father. My old man used to beat me, that is, when he cared enough to come home. And when he was sober enough to stand up. And then, he took off one day and never came back.

“My uncle was better, at least to me and my brother. But when he drank, he used to abuse my aunt. You know all that. So my family history sucks. Yet now that Lucas is here in Brighton Valley, now that I’ve met him, I’d like the chance to get to know him. And I want him to know me.”

“Fair enough.” She got to her feet, deciding to put on her social worker hat for the time being. After all, she wasn’t so sure how to coparent with a guy like Rick, either. Or how he’d fit into her life after all these years. “Why don’t we take things slow and easy? We can both let things simmer, then talk more about it later.”

He pondered that for a moment. “I suppose that makes sense. I need to sort things out, too. How much time are you suggesting?”

“I’m not sure. Weeks. Maybe months.”

“Why so long?”

“Parenting is a big deal. I’ve never had to do it full-time. And neither have you. Lucas has been through so much recently, and he has a lot to sort through. I’m not sure introducing you to him as his birth father is a good idea right now.”

Rick stiffened. “Why not?”

“Well, because...” She took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Losing his parents was hard on him. And then there was the move. He left everything that was familiar, so it’s all been a big adjustment for him. And for me, too.”

“You don’t want him to know who I am?”

“Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Because... Let’s just say it’s complicated.”

Rick crossed his arms. “How so?”

“I... Well, Gary and Sue were always very honest with him. And when he asked me about his biological father...I... Well, I don’t want him to think that I lied to him.”

“Why would he think that?”

Mallory shifted in her chair. At the time, when he’d asked about his biological dad, she’d given him the kindest, most logical response she could give a child. But in retrospect, she’d made a mistake. She just wasn’t sure how to backpedal at this point without making things worse.

Finally, Rick said, “I hope you didn’t tell him that I didn’t want to marry you. I wanted to, remember? Of course, I now have to admit that your grandfather was right. I didn’t have a dime to my name and probably wouldn’t have been a good husband and father, although I would have tried. But for the record, you were the one who was responsible for losing contact. You stopped taking my calls.”

“You can’t blame me for that. Giving up the baby was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I told you how badly I wanted an open adoption, and you refused to even consider it. In fact, you were adamant. You said that I could either bring the baby home, or leave it in Boston. But if I left it, not to even bother telling you if it was a boy or a girl.”

Rick raked a hand through his hair. “I had a hot temper back then. And I was trying to force your hand. The only reason I didn’t want an open adoption with a kid living in Boston, when I was dirt-poor and living in Texas, was because I’d never see him. So fatherhood was an all-or-nothing thing for me. I figured you’d see motherhood that way, too.”

“I’m sorry, Rick. I didn’t know where you were coming from.”

“You could have asked.”

Maybe she should have. Clamming up had always been his first line of defense, but she’d been too hurt to care about his feelings.

“You know,” he said, “that really sucks, Mal.”

What did? The fact that they’d both been too young, immature and ill-prepared to deal with the kind of situation a pregnancy had caused? To be honest, even now, with her education and maturity, she still felt a little out of her league when parenting a boy who’d lost so much in such a few short years.

“I can’t believe you’d do that,” Rick said.

Apparently, they weren’t both on the same page. “Do what?”

“Let Lucas think that I didn’t want him.”

At that, Mallory leaned forward. “Oh, my gosh, Rick. I’d never tell him something like that. For one thing, that would have crushed him.”

Rick settled back into the sofa cushion as if relieved. Then, almost as quickly, he straightened up again. “Then what did you tell him?”

“I told him—” Mallory paused for a beat, hating to admit it, then pressed on “—that you died.”

Rick’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Why in the hell did you tell him that?”

She hadn’t meant to lie, but she’d thought about it over the years. And she’d realized that something innocent and fragile had died inside her when Rick had signed those adoption papers and told her to do whatever she wanted. Then, when she’d had to choose between staying in Boston to be near Lucas or returning to Brighton Valley and Rick, she’d had to bury whatever memories they’d once had—and any hope of a future together.

“At the time it seemed like the easiest way to explain your absence in our lives. Besides, I wasn’t sure what had happened to you. I knew that Joey ran away. And given the rumors I’d heard about the fights you’d been involved in and all the drinking, I’d assumed the same thing had happened to you.” She almost mentioned his uncle’s trial and conviction, but decided to let that ride for now.

Rick stretched his arm out across the back of her sofa. “Listen, Mallory. I’ll admit that I got into a lot of trouble after you left Brighton Valley, but when you didn’t come back home like you said you would and wouldn’t return my calls, I fell into my old habits. In fact, without you in school, I couldn’t see any point in being there, either, so I dropped out before Thanksgiving.”

She ought to feel a bit justified at the anger she’d carried for years, yet a surge of sympathy shot through her instead, urging her to rise up from her chair, and sit next to him, under his outstretched arm... To lean her head against his shoulder, to caress his knee, to offer words of compassion....

What was wrong with her?

Ten years had passed since she’d last seen him, and yet she still found herself struggling with those same old urges, those same yearnings, those same... What? Feelings?

No, not those. Not anymore. She was no longer a foolish and gullible teenager blinded by his charm.

“So you dropped out of school, and that’s my fault?”

Rick’s brow furrowed, and his eye twitched. “Yeah, well, back then, I blamed you.”

“You don’t now?”

“Not for me dropping out of school. That was my own choice, but I rectified it.” Rick placed his hand on the sofa’s armrest, then stood. “I’m going to go before we both say things that would be better left unsaid. But just so you know, I’m going to respect your wishes and keep my true identity under wraps for the time being.”

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

“But don’t take too long figuring out a comfortable way to set him straight.”

“I’ll do my best.” She got to her feet, too. “Thank you for understanding.”

They merely stood there for a moment. Then Rick moved a couple paces forward, reached for her hand. He gave it a gentle squeeze with a firm grip, sending a bevy of goose bumps fluttering up her arms. “You’ve got a week, Mallory.”

Then he released her hand, leaving her in the middle of the living room as he headed for the door.

A week? She wasn’t sure she was following him. “You mean...?”

As he opened the front door, he turned and glanced over his shoulder. His gaze locked onto hers. “You have one week—seven days—to resurrect me.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll tell Lucas myself.”

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