Toys and Baby Wishes (13 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

Lexa felt as if she'd been hit over the head. 
"What?"

"I have always been concerned about you and Dani.  I've
always tried to help," Donald Kittredge insisted.

"What about the loan?  I'm the one who went to the
banks.  I'm the one who filled out the applications.  You had nothing to do
with it."

"Lexa, you have to stop thinking I don't care.  I do. 
I always have.  You had no collateral.  I made a phone call to the bank."

"I don't believe this.  Why did you do that?  You knew
I wanted to succeed on my own.  How could you interfere that way?"

"I was trying to help you get started.  Is that so
terrible?" her father questioned with serious lines creasing his brow.

"Yes.  Because I told you I wanted to make it on my
own.  Why couldn't you let me?"

"No bank was going to loan you money without
collateral," Donald said matter-of-factly.

"I would have gotten it somehow.  If necessary I would
have worked for someone else to get a down payment.  All you ever gave me was
money.  I can't believe you interfered that way.  Dad, stay out of this
situation with me and Dani.  Let us decide what's best for us."

"Dani might not know what that is."

"And I don't, either?  If only you knew--"  She
stopped.

Donald Kittredge stood up and looked straight at Josh. 
"Maybe you can talk some sense into her.  She hasn't listened to me in
years.  I think you realize this is much more complicated than either of them
understand."

With a last look at Lexa, he left her and Josh alone.

Josh spoke first.  "What's between you and your
dad?"

Lexa sighed, the hurt from years gone by still real and
alive.  "He's always thought money can fix anything.  He bought us things
instead of giving us his time."

"He's obviously concerned about you and Dani."

Lexa plopped down in the chair next to Josh.  "Maybe
you think so."

"Lexa..."

"You don't understand.  He wasn't around when I needed
him so I decided not to need him.  And that included his money.  I decided I
was going to succeed on my own with no one's help."

"You have succeeded on your own."

"Not if he bankrolled me."

Exasperated, Josh sat on the edge of the leather cushion and
turned toward her.  "For Pete's sake, Lexa.  He didn't bankroll you.  He
merely offered collateral.  You paid back the loan, didn't you?"

"Yes, but I wouldn't have gotten it--"

He impatiently slapped his hand on the arm of the chair. 
"You would have.  Eventually.  You said so yourself.  Your father simply
made it easier for you to follow your dream sooner."

Why wasn't Josh supporting her, not her father?  "I
can't believe you're taking his side."

"I'm not taking sides.  Lexa, think about it.  You
can't tell me you wouldn't do the same for your son or daughter."

"I wouldn't.  Not if I knew how important their desire
was to be independent."

Josh studied her for a moment.  "What's really at the
bottom of this, Lexa?  Can't you accept the fact that despite past mistakes,
your father does love you?"

A weariness settled over her.  "You don't know what
you're talking about.  How do you know he loves me?  For that matter, how do I
know?  He was always working.  If I wanted his attention, I had to get it by
being outstanding.  I had to get the top grades in my class, win the swim meet,
earn the blue ribbon.  And then if I got anything, it was a pat on the head,
his attention for five minutes.  So don't you tell me how much my father loves
me because you know nothing about it.  Nothing at all!" she ended, her
voice vibrating with emotion.

"Your father has a right to worry about you and Dani. 
You don't want to listen to him and take his advice so you're putting up
obstacles.  He has a legitimate concern.  What are you going to do if you adopt
Dani's baby and next year or the year after, she wants it back?  If there's any
indication that she wants to keep this baby, you should encourage her."

Lexa knew her judgment was shadowed by the past and Josh was
trying to make her see the reality of the situation now.  "I have
encouraged her.  We've weighed the pros and cons.  She doesn't want the baby;
she wants to get on with her life.  Dad has no business trying to persuade her
to keep it.  I don't want him interfering."

Josh's blue eyes glittered with concern.  "Lexa, he
wants to advise you.  Just listen to him.  Try to objectively weigh what he has
to say.  Don't you want to get closer to him, not only for your sake, but for
Dani's and the baby's?"

"Of course, I do.  But it's not that simple.  You're a
stranger to the whole thing--"

"Yes, I am.  And because I am, I can be more objective
than you can.  Maybe you should take a long look at the whole situation and try
to gain some objectivity yourself."

Josh stood, gave her a look filled with meaning, and left
her alone.

***

Lexa walked through the back yard, down the flagstone path
that led to the rose garden.  Rows of bushes formed a square around a bronze
sundial.  Bare stems with thorns reached toward the grey sky.  It was hard to
believe that in the spring and summer the garden raged with color.  Now it looked
barren, asleep.  Lexa raised her face to the sky and felt dampness on her
face.  Rain or sleet was coming.  She could sense it, smell it, feel it.

She didn't notice the November bleakness when Josh was
around.  He was a tonic filling her life with laughter and sunshine.  So why
couldn't she listen to his advice?  He had been blind to his aunt's concerns. 
Was she blind to her father's?  What were his reasons for being an uninvolved
father?  Had he wanted to be involved?  Had Loretta somehow prevented him?  How
had he felt when she and Dani left home?  Was he lonely then?  Was he lonely
now?  Wasn't it time to make peace or at least attempt to?

Lexa walked the grounds.  A fine mist began to fall.  When
her fingers grew frosty, she stuffed her hands into the pockets of her car
coat.  Walking by a rock garden that in the warm months housed a three-tiered
fountain, she remembered playing in it with Dani. 

Did Josh really believe Dani should keep her child?  If he
did, did that mean he didn't want an adopted child?  A man could love children,
all children, but still want his own.  Where did that leave her?

Lexa's toes became as cold as her nose, and she slowly
walked back to the house.  She let herself in the sliding glass doors that led
into a large family room.  Dani was curled on the sofa watching television. 
She turned down the sound with the remote.  "Did you and Dad have a
fight?"

"I guess you could say that."

"He means well."

"Maybe he does," Lexa admitted.  She studied her
sister carefully.  "Dani, are you having second thoughts about the
adoption, because if you are..."

"I'm not, Lexa.  I think Dad would like nothing better
than me moving in here with the baby.  Don't ask me why, it's just the
impression I get.  But that's not what I want."

"What do you want?"

"What I want, I can't have."

Fear washed over Lexa.  What if Dani and Rob did get back
together?  What would she do?  What would Dani want?  How would Josh feel if
she didn't adopt this child and then he discovered she couldn't have children? 
Dani was the only person who knew that.

Lexa sat down next to Dani and hugged her.  "I love
you.  I want you to be happy."

"I know you do, and I will be.  Some day." 
Releasing her sister, Lexa asked, "Where is everybody?"

"Dad's in his office.  Josh is in the kitchen raiding
the refrigerator.  He's really a great guy, Sis.  You're lucky.  Does he
know...?"

"That I can't have children?  Not yet.  I have to tell
him...soon.  Everything's happened so fast."  Lexa pushed herself to her
feet.  "I'm going to talk to Dad.  Maybe I can convince him we know what
we're doing.  We do know what we're doing, don't we?"

Dani's eyes were a bit brighter than usual, but she shook
her head.  "Yes.  I don't want to give the baby to a stranger.  There's no
other way."

Lexa patted Dani's hand and went to her dad's office.

***

Josh felt as if he'd been socked in the eye with a
baseball.  Stunned.  Hurt.  And angry as hell.  Why hadn't Lexa told him?

He went back to the kitchen, trying to absorb what he'd
heard in the hallway.  Lexa couldn't have children.  That explained a lot.  Her
defensive attitude about adopting Dani's baby.  Her fervor.  But most of all,
her attitude where their relationship was concerned.  He'd known she was being
hesitant about something.  Lexa was an all-out type of person.  But he could
sense she was still holding back.  And now he knew why.

She couldn't have children.  What did that mean to him?  To
them?

He examined his heart.  Yes, he wanted children.  But Lexa
was more important.  He wanted her.  They could adopt children.  If not Dani's,
others.  What concerned him most was Lexa's lack of trust.

Had he given her reason not to trust him?  And how far would
she take it?  When would she tell him?

When they'd made love, he'd thought they'd opened their hearts
to each other.  He'd opened his heart to her.  She'd kept up a barrier.

Should he confront her or let her come to him?

***

Donald Kittredge was sitting at his desk, charts lying on
the blotter in front of him.  He looked up when Lexa sat down in the Windsor
chair across from him.  "Is it cold enough to snow?"

"Maybe."  She rubbed her hands together because
they still weren't warm.

Donald's dark brown eyes stared into his daughter's. 
"Lexa, how can we have a normal father-daughter relationship?"

Her voice cracked when she answered, "I'm not sure what
that is."

"Do you have too much resentment built up to try?"

"Dad, I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything.  Listen."

She nodded.

He steepled his fingers together on the edge of the desk. 
"I know I wasn't around much when your mother was alive.  When you were
born, my business was just starting out.  I worked eighteen-hour days to give
my family everything I could, everything my father couldn't afford to give me. 
I wanted to send you to the finest schools, buy you the best money could buy. 
Is there something wrong with that?"

She felt vaguely ashamed.  "No, I suppose not.  But
don't you realize I would have rather had your time instead of a higher income
bracket?"

"Honey, I was driven.  My father was unemployed a lot. 
Sometimes we didn't have enough food to eat.  I swore that would never happen
to my family."

"I never knew that," Lexa said with a glimmer of
understanding.

He picked up a sterling letter opener and tapped it on the
ball of his thumb.  "It wasn't something I liked to talk about.  It was a
miserable time, better forgotten.  But I want you to understand."

"I understand how it might have started.  But did you
have to work that hard year after year?"

"I thought I did."  He put the swordlike object
along the side of the blotter.  "Your mother understood me.  She
understood my need for security--to make enough money so we'd never have to
worry about finances, so we could give you and Dani good lives."

"Money doesn't do that, Dad."

He leaned forward to try to explain.  "I know.  I know
now.  I married Loretta so you'd have more than money."

"You aren't serious!"

"I am.  You were twelve; Dani was eight.  You needed a
mother."

"Loretta wasn't a mother.  She didn't even care!"

"I didn't see that until too late.  I was in so much
pain from your mother's death that Loretta seemed like a godsend.  It took me
too long to find out she wasn't."

"Five years," Lexa murmured.

Her father heard and sat back with a sigh.  "Your
mother and I fell in love instantly when we were young.  We had immediate
trust, immediate respect.  I was so anxious to find that again that I let
Loretta pull the wool over my eyes.  When I woke up and realized what was going
on, you and Dani had grown away from me."

"What finally made you get a divorce?  I never knew. 
It happened so suddenly.  One day she was here, the next she was gone."

"She was having an affair.  When I confronted her, she
admitted it wasn't the first.  I ordered her out of the house."

"Dad, I didn't know."  Tears came to her eyes for
her father, for the hurt he must have felt, the complete sense of betrayal. 
"How could she do that to you?  Why didn't you tell me?  Maybe I could
have helped."

He smiled.  "That's like you, wanting to help.  Maybe I
should have told you.  Maybe it could have brought us back together.  You and
Dani were practically grown.  You were more reserved than Dani.  We had no
basis for a relationship.  I didn't want to spoil your idealism.  But maybe I
should have told you.  Maybe things would be different now if I had."  He
paused, cleared his throat, and said, "I want you to know, Lexa, I'm proud
of you.  I'm proud of the way you've looked out for your sister.  You might
think I didn't notice, but I did.  It's why I'm concerned now."

Emotions clogged Lexa's throat.  But she finally got out,
"Dad, you don't have to be."

"Lexa, let me help."

She swallowed the lump in her throat.  "There's nothing
to help with.  Dani is sure about this and so am I."

"Why are you so sure, honey?  You're almost desperate
about this."

Maybe if she told him, he'd understand.  Maybe it would help
her prepare to tell Josh.  "Dad, I might never be able to have
children."

Her father looked stunned.  "You're sure?"

"I've had some testing.  The outlook isn't good.  I'd
love Dani's baby as if it were my own."

"Lexa, I'm so sorry.  I know you'd love Dani's baby
but..."  He stopped.  "I can see you're determined about this.  Dani
seems to be too.  But will you promise me something?"