“Let’s go tell the children and get them out of here,” Maggie said.
“Yeah. And maybe we could go out for an early dinner to celebrate,” Trent tried, hoping to put off their inevitable confrontation a little longer.
Maggie shook her head and stood. “Grace is going to be really cranky by now, and I wouldn’t count on Daniel being any better after being cooped up in one room almost all day. I think take-out pizza is about as much celebration as we’re likely to have.”
Trent pushed himself to his feet. Their victory had left him relieved, but not at all lighthearted. Instead, he felt weighed down by fears of losing Maggie. He’d been wrong to let her shoulder the blame for their breakup alone, and now he hadn’t a clue how to make reparation.
As he walked into the hall behind Maggie and Ed, Trent heard his name. He turned, and came face to face with Nadine Morresey.
“Hello,” she said, including Maggie in the greeting.
“Trent, I’ll go on ahead and get the children. Hello, Nadine. Sorry you were dragged into this,” Maggie said, and walked away.
Trent watched her go, wondering at her grace. Most women would have verbally cut Nadine off at the knees. “I really have nothing to say to you,” he told Nadine, and turned to follow Maggie.
Nadine grasped the sleeve of his topcoat. “No, I’m sure you don’t But I needed to explain. Trent, I honestly thought I was helping you or I never would have agreed to testify. I was as shocked by Mr. Wright’s line of questioning as you were.”
Trent stared at her. She had seemed shocked. And embarrassed. “We could have lost those kids to my parents thanks to you.”
“But that’s just it. I thought that’s what you wanted. As far as I knew, your going back to Maggie was nothing more than a noble gesture. You said you wanted to be free of Maggie. I certainly never thought you wanted your brother’s children—not after you let your marriage break up over adoption. I care very much for you, Trent. And your parents assured me that you’d be grateful for my intervention. I also thought they wanted what was best for you. Your mother said she was worried that Maggie was dragging you into something you couldn’t handle. Then I heard you’d sold CSD to stay home and renovate the house. Now I see that she encouraged me all along after Maggie left you.”
Trent suddenly recalled something that had happened that day after the accident when his parents showed up at the hospital. His mother had said something about Maggie’s visit to his office but had stopped before completing the thought. She could only have known that Maggie had come to see him if someone had told her about the visit. Oh, now he understood that incident, and a whole lot more. Trent frowned, remembering Nadine’s arrival. The doorbell had rung and he’d hobbled stiffly to the door to find Nadine in the hall. She’d asked if Maggie were home and apologized for stopping without calling first. She’d been in the neighborhood. Had her surprise that Maggie had left him been convincing, or had his medication-fogged mind just seen what he’d been expecting to see?
“The night I hurt my back, was that little drop-in visit to Maggie a setup?” he asked her.
“No. Oh, I was afraid you’d think that. I didn’t know about your separation before I stopped by that night. But when I saw you so hurt and alone, my heart went out to you. I couldn’t understand why Maggie would choose raising a stranger’s child over standing by so wonderful a man.”
Trent ignored the compliment. “So how did my mother get into the picture?”
“We’re both on the same hospital committee. I mentioned that you and I had had dinner a few times. She encouraged me where you were concerned. I see now that she was serving her own purpose. I’m sorry I listened to her. I’m especially sorry about trying to save you from yourself this morning. If it makes you feel any better, I think your mother truly believes you would have been better off. Please, tell Maggie I’m sorry.”
After Nadine left, Trent shoved his hands in his pants pockets and leaned back against the marble wall. He stared unseeing at the floor. He was so deep in thought that he didn’t realize anyone had approached until a pair of oxblood wing tips stepped into view. Trent looked up straight into his father’s cool blue eyes.
“Trent,” the older man said, “we know you needn’t do as we ask, but Michael was our son. We’d like to see his children occasionally.”
Trent’s first reaction was to argue but something made him hold back. Maggie’s influence? Jim Dillon’s? God’s? He didn’t know. “Mickey, Rachel and Daniel were badly frightened by the prospect of having to leave us. And to all of them, you’re virtual strangers. Maggie and I can’t in good conscience answer your question until they’ve settled down. And even then, if we agreed it would be a supervised visit.”
“I see,” Royce said stiffly.
“I really don’t think you do, Father, or supervision wouldn’t be necessary.” Eyes narrowed in thought, Trent considered his father. “Tell me, why all this sudden interest in these kids? You let Michael slip out of your lives years ago. You could have apologized after the wedding. What did you think his invitation to attend his wedding was if not an olive branch? Believe me, it wasn’t some shallow attempt to not air the family’s dirty linen. If that’s what you thought, you didn’t know Mike at all.”
Unnoticed, Albertine had approached and now stood at her husband’s side, facing Trent. She nodded. “You may be right, but we can’t change the past or see Michael again to apologize. I am sorry the children were scared. We didn’t think of this as particularly frightening to them. We just wanted a chance to do better by his children than we did by Michael. We would have done better this time. I know we would have. We failed you both so miserably.”
“You failed us because you didn’t know how to love us. Neither of you know what love is. What I’ve never been able to understand is why you adopted me when you never wanted me in the first place.”
His mother blinked, clearly shocked by his questions. “Not want you? We chose you.”
“What happened—you wanted children until you had them? You practically let the staff raise us. Sending me away to Ruxley was just another stage of being ignored. And it certainly came in handy to hide the adopted son far from home where no one would be able to compare your two children.”
“I told you then,” his father said, “it was an honor to go to Ruxley. I went there. My own son didn’t get to go there.”
“You forget I overheard what you two said the night you discussed what to do with me. You were never able to forget that I wasn’t really your son, were you?” Trent asked, and wasn’t at all surprised when Royce turned and walked away without answering. And that was answer enough.
Albertine hesitated to follow, and Trent found himself blurting out the question that had haunted him for twenty-four years. “Why didn’t my real mother want me?” he asked her as she watched her husband move away. Then after closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and looked back up at Trent. “They told us at the agency to tell you the truth, but Royce didn’t want you to know. He’s very proud of all you’ve accomplished and has always been proud to call you his son.
“Your biological parents didn’t have a choice about giving you up for adoption. It wasn’t a case of them not wanting you, and I’m sorry you’ve thought that. It’s one of life’s ironies, really. An auto accident took our second son out of our lives years after one brought our first son to us. You see, your parents were in an auto crash, and your father, James, died almost immediately. Your mother, Kathleen, lived long enough to deliver you. She named you Trenton, knowing you would go to someone else to raise and that you’d at least still have their last name. Trenton was their surname. We decided to have you keep the name in honor of her last request. No family could be traced for them, but I have pictures of them together that were found in their wallets. I’ll see you get them.”
Stunned, Trent never realized she turned to walk away until he heard the tap-tap of her high heels on the hard floor. “Mother,” he called.
Albertine looked back.
“Thank you. Thank you for telling me about them.”
His mother nodded and walked away. She looked suddenly older, and not so much like a wicked woman as she did a sad misguided soul.
What’s real, and what did I imagine? Did I base my entire life on lies? He turned and saw Maggie coming down the hall with the children, and had to wonder the same thing. What’s real, and what did I imagine? Is there a chance she could forgive me? Still love me?
“Daddy!” Rachel’s voice echoed in the hall, pulling Trent away from useless speculation. There was joy in the pitter-patter of her Mary Janes on the terrazzo tile. He bent down just in time to catch her up in his arms, then he swung her high. Her arms wrapped around his neck, hugging him for all he was worth.
“The nice lady said we were going to be yours forever and ever,” Rachel told him in a rush. “And Aunt Maggie says she’s right!”
Trent felt a smile tip his lips in spite of the problems between him and Maggie. “She did, did she?”
Rachel’s nod was enthusiastic, her red-gold ponytail bobbing with each movement. “And the nice lady said we didn’t have to go anywhere we didn’t want to go. Daniel said he didn’t want to go to school anymore on show-and-tell day. But she said school didn’t count and that he should be a lawyer when he grows up and be Uncle Ed’s pardner. But Daniel told her he was your pardner ‘cause you always call him ‘pardner.’”
“It sounds like you had a long talk with the judge.”
“Oh, she wasn’t a judge. She was Winnie. She said to call her Winnie.” Rachel frowned, clearly considering something intently. “She knew an awful lot about us. Maybe she was a Christmas angel!”
Trent chuckled. “Well, she was sure our angel today. Winnie gave us all a happy Christmas this year, sweetheart.” He set Rachel down. As he was straightening, he came face to face with Maggie, who had Grace in her arms.
“Here, let me take her. She’s quite an armful, aren’t you, munchkin?” he asked Grace, putting his arms out to the toddler. Grace had other ideas and clung to Maggie, burying her head against Maggie’s neck. “Uh-oh. Somebody’s really had it.”
It was obvious from the look in Maggie’s eyes that her anger hadn’t cooled a bit. “Mom and Nancy went ahead to the van. I thought you would have followed me. What did Nadine have to say that took so long?”
Trent wondered if reading a little jealousy into her question wasn’t hoping for too much. “Apparently, she appeared in court today to help my parents stop me from making a noble sacrifice. I don’t know if I can forgive her even though my mother manipulated her shamefully. I didn’t even bother to confront my parents about recruiting her for today, though. They approached me about the children.”
“What about them?”
Trent shook his head. “No threats. They want to see the kids. I was noncommittal. I said we couldn’t even think about it until the kids have calmed down.
Apparently, my mother hadn’t considered that they might be upset by all this. She said some other things. I’ll tell you about later, if you’re interested.”
Maggie gave a sharp nod. “Oh, we’ll talk later,” she told him with fire in her brown eyes.
It was not so much a promise as a threat.
Maggie buckled Grace into her car seat and closed the door. She had to get a hold on her anger before the children or the moms caught on that all was not joy and jubilation between her and Trent. Going out to dinner as Trent had suggested started looking better and better in the small confines of the van. With so many others to talk to and so many distractions, she might be able to distance herself from him and what he’d done. She just might get through the time until the children went to bed without giving in to the urge to scream or the need to cry. The two urges traded places in her heart every two minutes.
“How long would you say it would take to get to Springfield?” she asked Trent as she buckled her seat belt.
He started as if shocked to hear her address him at all. “A-about forty-five minutes,” Trent replied. “Why?”
“I thought about your suggestion. Grace is already dropping off to sleep, and Daniel won’t be far behind. With a forty- or forty-five-minute nap they should be able to handle a celebration. How about Klaus Mouse’s Pizza House?”
“Klaus Mouse?” Trent looked so doubtful that she almost laughed but somehow she maintained a neutral tone.
“He’s a big mechanical mouse dressed in lederhosen. He and his other mechanical friends do a stage show. They sing and play instruments. Klaus does a stand-up comedy routine for children, and I hear his girlfriend even dances while they play.”
“I’ll bet the kids will love it. This is their celebration, after all.” Trent grinned, but Maggie saw fear in his eyes. And she was taken aback by that fear, not understanding it at all. Then he reached for her hand and whispered something that explained so much and fed her fury even more. “Please don’t leave me over this, Mag. I’ll find a way to make it up to you if it takes my last breath.”
Maggie gaped at him. He thought she planned to leave him again!
With her mother and Nancy Merritt along, and the distraction of the crazy-looking giant puppets entertaining the children, Maggie managed to get through the rest of the day without blowing a gasket. Before Trent had taken the stand in their defense, Maggie knew she would have blamed herself for Trent’s lack of trust. But no more. She’d come to realize that he had still not learned to trust her to stand by him.
Maggie closed Grace’s door with the final goodnight of the evening and went to the big bathroom the children shared. After their baths it was a mess of splashed water and haphazardly strewn clothes. Normally she had them help, but they’d been so tired after their emotional day that she’d just steered them all to bed. Trent had made himself scarce after they’d all returned home, saying he had things to do in his workshop.
She knew he’d planned to build each child a unique gift from Santa. She assumed the gifts were not quite finished, but now that he’d missed the children’s bedtime, she had to wonder if he was hiding from her. Well, she thought as she tossed the last errant sock into the hamper, if that was what he was up to, he was in for a shock.
She stalked to the phone and called Claire. “Hi, I saw your lights over there. I hope you weren’t busy packing to go to your son’s tomorrow,” she said when Claire answered.
“I packed two days ago, dear. Do you need something?”
“Actually I do. I wondered if it would be too much of an imposition for you to come over and watch the children for a little while. They’re all in bed, and Trent’s out working in the shop.”
“You either have some last-minute shopping to do or you want to get in on the fun down there in Santa’s workshop.”
If Claire thought that, Maggie decided, one really furious wife had just missed her chance for an Oscar. “I’m headed to the shop. Could you come over?”
“I’ll be right there.”
Maggie tossed a coat over her shoulders and met Claire on the porch. “Thanks. Help yourself to some cookies. Water’s on for tea or instant cocoa. See you in a while.”
“Take your time, dear. Your Trent’s tall for an elf, but he’s got the job down pat. It looks like a lot of fun’s going on down there.”
Maggie unlocked the door to “Santa’s Workshop” and entered quietly. The smell of polyurethane, oil stain and freshly cut wood hung in the air. Trent had Christmas carols blaring on a small radio. At first she didn’t see him but then she noticed the sole of his shoe sticking out into the aisle on the other side of the table saw.
She walked over, and he looked up, startled. She arched her eyebrow. “Hiding?” she asked as she reached over and snapped off the music.
Trent bristled and stood. “No. I have a lot to get done before tomorrow night.”
Maggie crossed her arms and leaned back against the table saw. “You’ll have to take a few minutes off, because we need to talk.”
Trent turned away. Wiping his hands, he let out a soul-deep sigh. “All right. I was hiding. I don’t want to hear what I think you’re about to say.”
“You don’t have a clue what I’m going to say!” she shouted.
Trent whirled, clearly shocked at her tone. “Of course I do. I know how angry you are.” He held a hand out to her. “Please. I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. I told you in the car that I’d make it up to you. And I will, if you just give me a chance to figure out how.”
“You don’t know,” Maggie said, despair clawing at her heart with sharp talons. “You don’t know a thing about how I feel or why I feel the way I do. I need answers, Trent. I need to know why you just stood back and let me flog myself daily for leaving you when you could have prevented it in the first place.”
“I let you leave because I saw how much not having children hurt you. I was hurt that you left. Devastated, believe me. But I was relieved, too, because I thought you would be able to go on with your life and have the children I’d denied you.”
“And it never occurred to you to tell me why you didn’t want to adopt? What am I saying? Why you didn’t want any children at all? And now that I think about it, you were only minimally cooperative with the fertility doctor, too. All it would have taken was five minutes of honest conversation to help me understand.”
“I couldn’t tell you. I was afraid you’d leave.”
“So you dangled an artificial carrot in front of me for almost eight years! First, it was that we’d have children after I’d established my career and you had yours on solid ground. Then a year of trying on our own to conceive, then three years of fertility doctors. All the while you were secretly hoping we’d fail. Then there was a full year of arguments and anguish while I had to watch us grow farther and farther apart. And all the time you knew why. You had a choice but I was just along for the ride.”
Trent raked a hand agitatedly through his thick black hair. “I know! Don’t you think I know? You think I haven’t said as much to myself? I just couldn’t bring myself to tell you.”
“And do you know why?” Maggie demanded. “Because you never trusted me. I didn’t destroy your trust. You never had any in me in the first place. Before we ever had problems, back when you apparently thought you wanted children—before we were even married—you didn’t trust me with what was the defining fact of your life. Your adoption. Why Trent? Why could you never trust me?”
She could see that there was an answer. And that he knew what it was. She could, but something held him back. Eyes eternally sad, Trent shook his head.
“Tell me, do you love me at all?”
“Of course I do!” he protested immediately—vehemently.
“Or,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “do you just like the idea of being loved by me? What do you want from this marriage, Trent? Because I’m telling you right now, I’m not leaving. And—” she stepped toe-to-toe with him and poked his chest with her index finger “—you’d better never ask me again if I’m going to, if you know what’s good for you! So you just think about that. Because, buster, you’ve got a marriage whether you want one or not! It’s up to you what kind you want to have.”
She pivoted and stormed out. The cold December night made her quickly aware that her cheeks were flushed. She couldn’t face Claire like that so she walked to the street down Paradise Found’s long private drive, then back again before entering the house.
After good-nights to Claire and a soothing cup of herbal tea, Maggie went to bed and was surprised to feel herself drifting toward sleep. She never heard Trent come to bed, and she only knew he had because his side of the bed had been disturbed when she woke at seven the next morning to Grace’s usual call for freedom from her crib. He was already gone, back to the workshop, and all that Christmas Eve day was a repeat of the night before. He came in for meals, then quietly excused himself to work on gifts. Was he hiding? Thinking about their future? She didn’t know, but she wished she did.