Adopt-a-Dad

straight for the kitchen. She left Jenny to follow, talking over her shoulder. “It was so like Michael to bring you to an occasion like that and then take you away before we could meet you. Honestly, we were ready to shoot him.”

“I was tired.” The squeak was still there. It was all she could do to get her voice to work.

“I don’t blame you for that,” Megan said warmly, turning to face her. “Sit down, child. You look exhausted. Ellie says you’ve had quite a time, and your baby’s almost due.”

“I-”

“Now I’ve pieced together quite a lot between Ellie and Garrett and Lana,” Megan said briskly. “But why don’t you tell me all about it yourself? Michael’s my godson, you know, and I’ve always been an honorary aunt to all the Lord children. I want to know…”

And then her voice trailed away. Jenny stared.

Megan Maitland. Although Jenny had seen Megan at the hospital, she’d never been formally introduced, but her reputation as a mover and shaker was daunting.

But now, despite this woman’s power, despite her obvious authority, her beautifully groomed appearance, her confidence and her interest in Michael’s life, there was a hint of appeal in the older woman’s voice. It was as if she really did want to be allowed to come close.

As if she really cared.

“I want to know everything,” she said, and her smile wavered. “Please. I care so much for those children- Michael and his sisters and brother. It’s as if they’re partly mine.”

“I don’t-”

Megan’s hand came out and took hers. “Please, my dear. I care about Michael, and if what Garrett says is true, then I intend to care about you, as well.”

Jenny hesitated. For seven long months she’d kept herself apart. Her troubles had been hers and hers alone. But now she had a husband who cared about her, and her husband had family and friends who wanted to know all about her.

Who had a right to know. And who might just care for her, too.

“Let’s get you some breakfast, child,” Megan said. “And then tell me everything.”

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.