For the Girls' Sake - By Janice Kay Johnson Page 0,57
wishing he cared about her.
"Of course they are," she agreed.
Stroking the brocade fabric of the sofa, she closed her eyes momentarily. Thank goodness Brian had called when he did! She had been on the verge of making herself look foolish.
Adam couldn’t have made it clearer that he wasn’t interested in her, that he’d married her for her daughter. How else could she interpret the grief on his face when the poem Jennifer had loved brought back memories of her? The firm reminder that this wedding had taken place because of the girls?
"Do you know," Lynn said with what she hoped was a pleasantly apologetic smile, "I think I’ll get ready for bed. If you don’t mind my using the bathroom first?"
"No. Of course not," he said courteously. But when she stood and started past, his hand on her arm stopped her. His voice changed. Deepened. "Thank you. For today."
"For today?" she repeated stupidly.
"For agreeing to be my wife."
Was he flirting with her? Reassuring her? She had no idea.
This man she’d married confused her. But then, she thought, looking down at his big hand gripping her arm, they had given themselves plenty of time to untangle the mystery each represented to the other. They’d promised a lifetime. She didn’t have to understand him today.
"I’m glad." She flushed. "I mean, that we did it. And that you’re not sorry."
He smiled, his eyes a warm rich brown. "Good night, Lynn. Sleep well."
"Good night." Cheeks still glowing, new hope fizzing in her chest, Lynn went to peek in at their children and to brush her teeth.
* * *
TELLING THE GIRLS turned out to be absurdly easy. After lunch the next day, Adam took Rose for a walk when the rain let up. Lynn settled down on that sublimely cozy new sofa with Shelly on her lap, head against her shoulder.
They had fewer such moments these days. Having two children was a mixed blessing. Holding this child she’d loved from the first day, powerful emotion swelled in her chest, bringing a sting of tears to Lynn’s eyes.
"I love you, punkin," she murmured against her daughter’s silky head.
Shelly gave her a compulsive hug. "I love you," she whispered with unusual force.
Lynn bit her lip. "I have something I have to tell you."
Shelly didn’t move for a moment. Finally she uncurled enough to look up with big, solemn eyes the exact shade of her daddy’s. "Are Rose and Adam going home today?"
"Tomorrow." Lynn smiled, if shakily. "But Monday we’ll go to their house. I guess it’s our house now, too. Just like this is theirs."
Her forehead puckered. "Is Rose my sister, now?"
"Yes. That’s kind of what I have to tell you about."
Shelly waited.
"A few months ago, Adam and I found out something. You and Rose were born the same night in the same hospital. Almost at the same time."
Her frown deepened.
"What we found out is, the hospital mixed you two up. The baby who came out of my tummy was Rose, not you. You came out of Adam’s wife, Jennifer."
Alarm stirred. "But you’re my mommy."
"I’ll always be your mommy. I love you," Lynn said fiercely. "But haven’t you noticed that Rose looks kind of like me? We have the same impossible hair and—" she wrinkled her nose "—these freckles."
After a long pause, Shelly nodded.
"And you," Lynn said, and gave her a squeeze, "look just like Adam’s wife. Except for the parts that look like him. Your eyes are the same color."
"You said he could be my daddy now. Right?"
"Right."
"But you’re still my mommy." Only the barest hint of a question imbued her declaration.
"Always and forever." Choked with emotion, Lynn still hesitated. "I just thought you should know," she explained carefully, "because you have more grandparents who want to meet you. Adam’s mommy and daddy, and his wife’s. I mean, his first wife’s." Oh, forget it, she decided. "Rose’s grandparents are yours now, and yours are hers."
Shelly looked perplexed.
Metaphorically Lynn threw up her hands. Making a face, she said, "I guess it’s a good thing your dad and I got married, huh? We’re one family, so we can share all those grandparents, right?"
Shelly’s expression became crafty. "If I have more grandparents, do I get more presents? When I turn four?"
"Probably," Lynn admitted. She tickled her daughter. "You greedy little thing, you!"
Shelly giggled and then burrowed back into her arms. Around the thumb she’d popped into her mouth, she asked, "How come Rose and Adam went outside? Without us?"