For the Girls' Sake - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,34

to reach out to touch his hand, but stopped herself. "You’ve done an amazing job. Rose adores you."

"We’ve done okay," he said gruffly.

"Better than okay."

He shifted. "Maybe you’d better save the accolades for a few months. I mess up. Sometimes I think Rose is babyish for her age, and that’s my fault."

“Babyish?" Why did she keep having this urge to take his hand, as if he needed comfort?

"Didn’t you notice she went to bed with a diaper on? Three-and-a-half years old, and she still wets her bed."

"Lots of kids do," Lynn said, puzzled at his perturbation. "Maybe she’s an extra sound sleeper. She seems to do fine during the day."

He shoved himself to his feet and grabbed their empty plates. "She has accidents."

"So does Shelly."

At the sink, Adam stood with his back to her. "Not when she’s with me."

"Rose hasn’t had one with me, either."

He stayed completely still for a moment. "I figured I was doing something wrong."

What could she say? Lynn fumbled for the right words. "Children, um, aren’t like a product you assemble. They aren’t perfect, any more than we are." Then she flushed. "I’m sorry. That was patronizing."

"I deserved it." When he turned, he was actually smiling. The fact that one corner of his mouth crooked higher than the other lent charm to a face that was usually too austere. "Anyway, funny thing. You’ve hit the nail on the head. I was expected to be perfect. I didn’t want to lay that burden on Rose, but apparently my expectations weren’t buried very far under. As you said, patterns."

Lynn didn’t want to feel sympathy or liking or even understanding. She couldn’t afford to. Stop, she told herself. Now.

“This isn’t working," she said abruptly. "These visits. I hate them."

Between one blink and the next, he became a stranger again. "We agreed to take it slowly."

"I don’t like to shop. The movies are all made for teenagers. I dread these days." She sounded peevish instead of firm. Me, me, me. "No," she argued with herself. "It’s not me. If the girls were happy...but they’re not. They’re too young to be bounced back and forth like this."

"Then what do you suggest?" His voice was harsh. "Shall we just stay in touch? Send each other photos at Christmas?"

"No."

"Then what?" he shouted.

"I don’t know," she yelled back, suddenly furious. "But something different!"

"Different."

Lynn swallowed, moderated her tone. "Maybe...maybe less often. Maybe, for now, we need to put up with each other instead of pretending we can each have both of them."

Adam scowled and massaged the back of his neck. "We are pretending, aren’t we?"

"Yes." She pressed her hand to her chest, which inexplicably burned. "That’s exactly what we’re doing. Shelly and Rose don’t understand."

"Today, all she wanted was you."

"Rose cries when you leave her."

"She cries at her day care, too. Sometimes I have to pry her hands off me."

Lynn hated that picture, but she couldn’t blame him. He was a good father; Rose loved him. He had to work.

"What shall we do?" she asked miserably.

"Maybe you’re right. Maybe we went at this in too big a hurry."

She didn’t want him to agree, Lynn was shocked to realize. She didn’t want to go back to before, however serene it seemed in memory. To not see Rose as often. To not see him as often.

Now, what did that mean? she wondered, jarred. Had she come to have some kind of fellow feeling for Adam, because he was the only one who truly understood what she was going through? Was it self-defense, to bond with him?

Or—oh, no—had she developed some kind of adolescent crush on the man? Was some of her Monday morning anticipation because she would see him, not just Rose? Did that explain some of the hurt and letdown, when he didn’t invite her past the doorstep?

"Even the days I have both girls aren’t that great, because Rose wants you. And because, oh, because it’s like this special event. It’s not life. I want Rose to feel at home with me," she struggled to explain.

He watched her with understanding that delved beneath her breastbone. "Question is, do you want Shelly to feel at home with me?"

Lynn gave a small, twisted smile. "Probably not. How do you feel about the idea of Rose happy with me?"

"Oh, I’m jealous as can be."

"I guess we can’t help how we feel. Just what we do about it."

“You’re not suggesting a change because you’re jealous, too?"

He was asking for honesty. Lynn tried to give it. "I don’t think so. I