For the Girls' Sake - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,16

kid?" her ex-husband, the true stranger, said with an audible sneer.

Closing her eyes, Lynn said evenly, "We’ve had DNA testing done. And you’d know, if you saw her."

He grunted. "So what do you want from me?"

"Nothing." How glad she was to be able to say that! "I thought you should know. That’s all."

"Uh-huh. Well, you do what you want." His tone changed. "Hey, my call-waiting beeped. Hold on." When he came back on a minute later, Brian said, "You don’t have her there, right?"

"The man who has been raising her didn’t hand her over to me, if that’s what you mean."

Brian being Brian, he stayed focused on all that he cared about. "Well, I’m not paying any more child support. I mean, Shelly’s not my responsibility. And I’m not paying this other guy, I can tell you that."

How could she ever have married this man? How had she deceived herself, even for a while, into thinking she loved him?

"You held Shelly and kissed her and changed her diaper. She thinks you’re her daddy. After all these years, don’t you love her at all?" Lynn asked, trying to understand.

"She’s not my kid," he explained, as though she was an idiot not to grasp the concept immediately. "Maybe it’s different for a woman. But for a guy...hey, we want to pass on our own bloodlines. I mean, sure, Shelly’s a sweet kid. But she’s got a dad now, right?"

"That’s lucky for her, isn’t it?" Lynn carefully, gently, hung up the telephone receiver.

However much she feared Adam Landry, he had to be a better father than the man she’d married.

She picked up the phone again and dialed quickly. Her mother answered on the second ring.

"Mom, I saw her picture today."

"Oh, honey," her mother said, compassion brimming in her voice. "I wish we were there. I can hardly wait to meet her. And to cuddle Shelly and make sure she knows we’ll always be Grandma and Grandpa."

Just like that, tears spilled hotly from Lynn’s eyes. "Oh, Mom." She sniffed. "I wish you could be here, too."

Her mother had raised Lynn alone, but she’d remarried right after Lynn left home. Hal would never feel like "Dad" to Lynn, but he was a kind man who loved to be Grandpa. Lynn was grateful her mother had found him. She only wished his work hadn’t taken them to Virginia.

“For Christmas," her mother said. "I promise we’ll come for Christmas."

She gave a watery laugh. "I’ll hold out until then. No, really, we’ll be fine."

"Do you need money? We can help more than we have been, you know. If we have to, we’ll take out a loan."

Lynn’s mother and stepfather had loaned her the seed money for the bookstore and her mortgage on this old house. She wasn’t going to take another cent from them. She knew darn well they didn’t really have it.

"No, money’s not the problem," she said, meaning it. "It’s just...everything."

"Then tell me everything," her mother said comfortingly. "And we’ll see which parts of it really count."

Lynn saw herself suddenly, a child. What grade had she been in? Third or fourth? The teacher had accused her of cheating, and she hadn’t been! Goody Two-shoes that she was, she never would. She’d been humiliated and hurt that Mrs. Sanders hadn’t believed her. All the way home, she’d dragged her feet. What if Mom didn’t believe her, either?

She found her mother in the kitchen. Unable to speak, she began crying. Funny how clearly she remembered every sensation of her mother’s embrace, the soothing warmth of her voice. "Tell me what’s wrong," Mom had murmured, "and we’ll see which parts of it really count."

Mom had always said that, when troubles seemed overwhelming. And her analysis invariably did help. She brought problems down to size.

Well, not even Mom was going to be able to shrink this one.

But she told her mother everything anyway, the way she always did.

* * *

THIS WAS THE SECOND toughest phone call Adam had ever had to make. Both to his parents-in-law.

He probably should have told them these past weeks what was going on, so that they could absorb the shock slowly, as he apparently had.

But he hadn’t wanted to alarm them. It might all come to nothing. Jenny Rose was all they had left of their Jennifer. They always called her Jenny, and sometimes he was sorry he’d named his daughter after her mother. He’d turn, half-expecting to see Jennifer. Besides, Rosebud shouldn’t have to live up to such an intense emotional demand. She wasn’t