To do anything else was impossible.
Jenny found herself talking freely. She talked and she talked, in between tackling the cornflakes and coffee Megan insisted she demolish. After a while she forgot about the baggy pajamas and her tousled curls and even Socks devouring cornflakes under the table. And all the time she spoke, Megan listened, as if every single word was important.
As she told her story, Jenny watched Megan’s face, expecting condemnation, but there was no such thing. When she had finished, there was a twinkle in those compassionate eyes.
“Well,” she said. “Well, child.”
“I never wanted to draw Michael into this mess,” Jenny said desperately. “What you must think of me…”
“What I must think? I think you’re an incredibly brave woman,” Megan said warmly. “The easiest thing in the world would have been to return to England, to surround yourself with luxury and allow your baby to be brought up by others. To stay here must have taken sheer courage.”
“But in one way, it’s selfishness to keep my baby away,” Jenny said slowly, thinking about it, as she’d done a million times before. Thinking of what Peter would have wanted. Her baby’s father. “I’m robbing my baby of his birthright so that I can have a say in how he’s raised.”
“You’re not robbing him of his birthright,” Megan said solidly. “Are you telling me when he comes of age he can’t head back to Britain and claim his birthright?”
“No, but-”
“Then don’t be silly. You’re his mother. It’s your right-your duty even-to raise your son the best way you know how.”
“You know-” Jenny hesitated and met Megan’s eyes “-I have the feeling that’s why Michael’s helping me…because his own birth mother didn’t do that. Raise him, I mean. I’m starting to feel that Michael’s carrying so much anger. And by helping me he’s almost thumbing his nose at his birth mother, saying, ‘You could have taken care of us.’”
There was a long, long silence as Megan stared across the table at Jenny’s troubled face. And then the older woman’s face softened. She took Jenny’s hand in hers again and held it tight.
“Garrett said you were one amazing lady, and he was right,” Megan said. “That’s quite an intuition you have there.”
“I don’t know if I’m right.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right,” Megan told her. “That boy… Michael internalizes everything. He was the one who was full of questions about his real parents from the time he could understand what happened. Then, when he was about eight, all of a sudden he got angry. He hated the thought that he’d been abandoned. And now…”
“Now?”
“Now his birth mother is trying to make contact with her children. He doesn’t want to know. He’s still so angry.”
“I’d guess…” Jenny sighed and stirred her coffee. She needed to do something to keep herself from rising and pacing the floor, which was what she felt like doing. This conversation was almost unbelievable.
“His birth mother mustn’t have had a Michael to rescue her from her demons,” she whispered. “Poor lady. She must have had such strong reasons for walking away from her children.”
Unconsciously her hand touched her pajama-clad tummy in a gesture of defense. She looked up and saw that Megan’s eyes had dropped to her waistline, and Jenny was embarrassingly aware of her inelegant outfit.
“Sorry.” She hitched the pajama cord tighter over her baby. “This… This isn’t me at my best. If Michael could see how I’m entertaining guests in his home, he’d be horrified.”
“I don’t think horrified is the word for it.” Megan smiled. “When I talked to Michael this morning he seemed just plain befuddled.” She stooped to look under the table, checking out Socks and giving Jenny a chance to regain her composure. “To find himself with a wife and a dog all in one weekend. And what a dog!”
“He’s wonderful,” Jenny said warmly. The dog was something she could talk about. “Socks, come here.” At the sound of his name, Socks looked at her adoringly, then stood and flopped his big ears across her knees. “He’s just the best.”
“You know, after he was eight, Michael would never have a pet of his own,” Megan told her, watching Socks with interest. “It troubled his adoptive parents. He hasn’t let anything or anyone close to him.”
“No.” Jenny fondled Socks’s ears and looked troubled, too. “And now he’s landed with me. Well, please don’t worry, Mrs. Maitland. I won’t stick around any longer than I must. As soon as my baby’s born and I have residence status…”
“But I don’t think you understand, my dear,” Megan said. Her hand clasped Jenny’s again. Her grip was strong and sure-a woman who knew what was right. “We’re not troubled that Michael has-as you describe it-been landed with you. Garrett and I-and as far as I can see, Lana and Shelby, too-are delighted.”
“But-”
“Garrett told me you could do Michael nothing but good, and after meeting you, I think I agree.”
“So you’d have him saddled with another man’s baby.”
“What I’m thinking,” Megan said, eyeing Socks with amusement, “is that this baby may well end up being Michael’s baby. As Socks may well end up being Michael’s dog.”
“Now that,” Jenny said warmly, grinning despite her trouble, “is really ridiculous.”
“What’s really ridiculous?” Michael said from behind her, and she jumped about a foot.
“MICHAEL.”
It was all so domestic. So cozy. Michael stopped in the doorway and blinked in amazement. Megan was sitting over a mug of coffee, her eyes dancing with laughter, and his Jenny was laughing, too.
Not his Jenny. Not his anything.
“Woof!”
Socks broke the silence. He’d obviously remembered Jenny’s injunction that he was the guard dog around here, which meant he had to utter one threatening bark before hurling himself across the floor to jump up on Michael’s best work suit. Michael caught his paws and staggered under the weight of him as Socks’s tongue came out to lick his face.
“Ugh. Stupid dog. Get off. Jenny, I thought you were going to train him.”
“Hardly before breakfast on day one,” Jenny retorted, turning bright pink.
“Before breakfast?” He glanced at his watch and grinned. “It’s almost eleven o’clock.”
Jenny’s blush deepened. “Just because some people get up early one day in their lives, they think they can gloat. Not likely. I’ll have you know I beat you to work every single day for the last few months.”
“So you did.” He smiled at his wife, and the pleasure glimmering in his dark eyes made Megan stare. Was this Michael?
“What are you doing home, anyway?” Jenny asked, and Megan stared some more. She couldn’t remember when she’d seen laughter in Michael’s eyes. He always held himself so aloof.
“I was in by six. I decided to take an early lunch, so I thought I might come home.”
“Well, that’s a novelty.” Megan shook her head in amazement. “You’re honored indeed, Jenny. This is a man who has two-minute lunch grabs in the hospital cafeteria or, at best, five-minute salads at his sister’s diner. To what does Jenny owe this pleasure?”
“Hey, I have a wife now,” Michael said, grinning. “I have domestic responsibilities all over the place, and besides, Jen told me she can cook.” He checked out his wife’s pajamas and shook his head. “I might have hoped for a more appealing outfit, but never mind. I’ll excuse it this once. Do we have something for lunch, Jen?”
“Of course we do.” She hauled her dignity together as best she could, stood and hitched her pajama cord tighter. “The menu is cornflakes. Cornflakes, cornflakes or cornflakes. That’s it. We’re even out of TV dinners. Socks ate the lot. Sorry. Socks and I need to go shopping.”
“So it’s cornflakes.” Michael sat down, his smile still holding Jenny tight. “My favorite. What a woman! What do you think of my wife, Aunt Megan?”