Almost a Family (2 page)

"Did you hear me, Bailey?" Her voice trembled. She stood rigid and made tight little fists with her hands. A crumpled white tissue trailed out of one. Her face had been cried free of makeup, and her lips were pinched.

It was too much, seeing Virginia again and picturing the remains of their infant son, Bailey, Jr. He'd lost years of sleep wondering what kind of tortures his child had been subjected to. Flashes of himself walking alongside volunteers canvassing the area where their baby's blanket had been found came back to him. Had he walked right by the tiny body? Now had hunters found the miniature skeleton? Pain burned in his belly and incinerated his chest.

He stared at Virginia, his tongue thick and unwieldy. She was expecting him to say something profound, but he could manage only to nod. "I heard you." To himself he sounded like a wounded animal, and he saw her flinch in response.

For the first time, he remembered their audience. Old friends, mere acquaintances, and complete strangers gawked at them, unable to hear their conversation, but looking intensely curious nonetheless. The dank smell of beer and the thick cigarette smoke suddenly suffocated him. He reached forward and clasped her elbow, turning her around gently. "Let's go someplace to talk," he said near her ear. She nodded curtly, pulling away from him a few inches.

Bailey frowned, but his brief disappointment at her reflex passed as he anticipated the somber conversation that awaited them. As he weaved them through the crowd and toward the front doors, the music and laughter grew even louder. A wet-T-shirt contest was in high progress, with men lining up to throw buckets of icy water onto the willing contestants. Virginia averted her gaze, and he conceded a pang of embarrassment that she'd had to hunt him down in one of his tacky old haunts to tell him her sobering news.

She couldn't have looked more out of place in her tailored slate-gray jacket and fitted skirt, sheer hose and leather pumps. She'd wound her honey-colored hair into a tight crown knot, with only a fringe of bangs to soften the look. His outrageous, fun-loving coed had matured into an elegant, classy executive. They garnered more than a few looks as they wound their way toward the door.

Bailey bit back a bitter laugh. The lady and the tramp. Their divorce had ended on a sour note, but it appeared she'd fared better without him.

Virginia stared straight ahead with her mouth set in a firm line. Her back remained rigid, and Bailey felt the sudden urge to fold her into his arms, to feel her soften into him and cry against his chest. She'd done just that many times before their baby had been born, and he'd been glad to offer her his strength, trying desperately to hide his own fears of becoming a sudden husband and father. But in his grief after the kidnapping, he'd lashed out, saying unforgivable things. She hadn't been in his arms since that horrific day. Unconsciously, he tightened his grip on her arm through the soft fabric, and she tensed even more.

He didn't blame her for hating him. How could he when he hated himself?

"Bailey?" came a drawling female voice behind him.

Bailey winced. He'd forgotten about Lisa. At first he wasn't going to stop, but Virginia slowed and said, "I think someone needs to talk to you."

Bailey released Virginia's arm and wheeled toward Lisa's voice. The blonde's eyes were wide and questioning as she scanned Virginia head to toe. Hands on hips, her position accentuated her ample chest, covered by a transparent, wet tank top that left nothing to the imagination. She smirked. "Going somewhere, Bailey Boy?"

Bailey's face suffused with heat. He avoided Virginia's eyes. Withdrawing his wallet, he removed a twenty and thrust it into the young woman's hand. "Change of plans, here's money for a cab." Then he reclaimed Virginia's elbow and steered her out onto the sidewalk into the balmy midsummer air.

Nightlife in Columbus, Ohio, normally didn't get rolling until midnight, so the worst crowds and traffic were still a couple of hours away. But the street vendors and sidewalk entertainers were still busy from late shoppers who had not yet departed for home.

"My car's just around the corner," Bailey explained. "There's a coffee shop on the next block."

"Let's walk," Virginia suggested, still staring ahead.

He nodded and fell in step beside her, adjusting his stride to hers. After a few seconds of silence, he asked, "Do you want to wait to talk about it?"

She shook her head and sniffed. "No." Her voice sounded stronger, but forced. "I worked late today and had a message waiting from Detective Lance when I got home. Do you remember him?"

Bailey nodded—the man had been the lead local investigator on their son's kidnapping, had persisted even after the FBI had given up.

"Anyway, the message said he had news and needed to talk to us as soon as possible. He left you a message, too, but since he hadn't heard from you by the time I called him back, I assumed you hadn't been home yet."

A nice way of saying he'd gone straight to the saloon from work, Bailey noted.

She sought his eyes this time, and he saw her tears brimming again. Swiping at them with her tattered tissue, she said, "I'm sorry, Bailey. I should have waited for you, but I just couldn't—" Her voice faltered. "I just couldn't bear to wait another minute to hear the truth."

He wished he had been there, but he understood her anxiety. His throat ached as he tensed to keep his emotion at bay.

She wiped her mouth with the side of her hand and cleared her throat. "Then he came over, and when he told me they'd found Bailey, Jr."—her voice escalated—"I didn't know what to say." She offered him a watery smile, and his heart tripped. "Eight long years I've been waiting to hear those words, and I didn't know what to say."

Bailey ground his teeth. He ought to have been there, if only to comfort Virginia as he should have eight years before. "I'm sorry, Ginny," he said, his pet name for her slipping out. "I'm so sorry." He slowed his step and reached for her hand to squeeze it.

She stopped abruptly and stared at their hands. "Sorry?" Her forehead crumpled. "You're sorry they found our child?"

Bailey searched for the right words. "No, I'm not sorry this nightmare is finally over. I'm just so sorry you had to hear the bad news alone."

"Bad news?" Ginny looked confused for a few seconds, then her eyes rounded in astonishment. "Oh, Bailey, I... I mean, you... I thought you realized..."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "Realized what?"

"Bailey." She searched his eyes, her voice filled with wonder. "Our son is
alive
."

Chapter 2

Bailey stood stock-still. His voice seemed paralyzed. He felt his mouth open and close, but no sound came out. Ginny's face faded in and out of focus, and for a few seconds he thought he might pass out. Her words were too incredible to be true. "What... how..." A passerby jostled his arm, startling him. The man apologized and kept moving.

"I need to sit down," she said, her chin quavering. Bailey looked up and saw they were only a few steps from the coffee shop. He grabbed her hand and led her to the door. For a full minute she clasped his hand tightly, and Bailey felt a strange stirring in his midsection.
Just like old times.

They claimed a booth, sitting across from each other. He relinquished her hand reluctantly. Ginny sighed as she sank into the plush upholstery. She looked exhausted. Pink rings glowed around her eyes, nose, and lips. Bailey felt a rush of sympathy for her, but couldn't wait any longer for answers. "Ginny, what's going on?"

She inhaled deeply, still clenching the shredded tissue in her hand. "Detective Lance received a call from Fort Lauderdale this morning. A woman there passed away a few weeks ago, and before she died, she told a nurse she'd taken her son from a grocery store in Columbus, Ohio, as an infant." Her voice choked, and she bit her bottom lip to steady herself.

Bailey reached for her hand again, wanting to comfort her, but she pulled back and straightened her shoulders. "I'm all right," she said bluntly.

I'm not. Let me touch you, let me share.
He lowered his hands to grip the sides of the small table, but his equilibrium still seemed off. Ginny's lips moved slowly, and he concentrated fiercely on the words coming out.

"After the woman died, the nurse reported the conversation to the authorities. When the Fort Lauderdale police could find no proof the woman had given birth, they ran a computer search on unsolved kidnappings. When they contacted the Columbus police, Detective Lance took over." She swallowed audibly. "He said he wanted to be sure before he got our hopes up, but apparently the boy's fingerprints match our son's, and the DNA sample they took at the time of the kidnapping is a match, too." Her voice turned squeaky on the last words, and she smiled tremulously at Bailey.

Panic twisted in his gut, the one question he'd worn threadbare in his mind leaping out. "Was he... abused?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, thank God."

He released a pent-up breath and dragged a hand over his face. After being emotionally detached from everything and everyone in his life for nearly a decade, the events of the past few minutes made him feel as if he'd been fileted, with his heart on display. "I can't believe it... I just can't believe it." He spread his hands, desperate for firm ground. "What happens next?"

Her lips parted slightly. "What happens next?" Her voice was incredulous. She straightened, her back pressed against the bench seat. "I'm going to Florida to get my child. Mom and Dad are flying down with me tomorrow morning. I came to see if you wanted to go with us."

His anger flared at her insinuation. Could she possibly think he wouldn't want to claim his son? "Of course I'm going," he blustered. "I'm his father. I didn't mean to sound as if... oh, hell, I don't know what I meant." He leaned back into the cushion and glanced around the half-empty cafe. "This has thrown me for a loop, Ginny. I'm sorry if I'm not saying all the things you want me to."

She pursed her lips. "I'm familiar with your coping strategies, Bailey."

Her remark pierced his chest like a sleek blade.

"What can I get you folks?" a bespectacled young man asked.

"Two black coffees," Bailey said, his tone more abrupt than he'd intended.

"Excuse me," Ginny said as the man turned to leave. "Make mine decaf with cream." The waiter nodded, then disappeared. She turned to Bailey and lifted her chin slightly. "Things change, Bailey."

He passed a hand through his hair and sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Another good point. I suppose we need to get caught up on each other's lives before we can decide how we're going to handle this, uh"—he floundered for a few seconds—"parenting arrangement." A thought struck him and his pulse jumped as his gaze flew to her left hand. "Are you married?"

"No. Are you?"

He told himself the news cheered him because it meant fewer complications. "No." Indicating her attire with a sweep of his hand, he said, "You appear to be doing well for yourself."

"I'm a systems analyst for a brokerage firm."

"What exactly is a systems analyst?"

"I design computer systems—my specialty is stock analysis."

She'd always been smart and creative, but he was a little surprised. He angled his head toward her. "You? Computers?"

She bristled. "I went back to college and earned a degree in computer science."

Years earlier he'd resented the untimely interruption of their impromptu marriage—he hadn't considered at the time that Virginia also sacrificed dreams. "It's great that you finished your degree. I just figured you'd still be sculpting."

She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to be self-reliant, so I chose something with more stability."

Ginny looked a picture of independence, he had to admit. He could see her at work, all prim and aloof, with none of her coworkers suspecting that beneath the stuffy business suit lay a warm, sumptuous body—

"Here you go," the waiter said, setting down two steaming mugs. "Can I get you folks something to eat?"

Bailey looked at Ginny. "Did you have dinner?"

"There wasn't time."

"Me either. How about some soup?"

She shook her head, a movement that highlighted her sharp collarbones. He felt a twinge of concern. "Ginny, you look exhausted. Eat."

Her shoulders rounded slightly, and she nodded. "Okay." The young man bustled off to get them the house special. She swung her long legs around to slide from the booth seat. "I'm going to find the ladies' room."

Bailey tried to not watch the way her body moved as she walked away from him, but he couldn't help it. He wouldn't have believed it possible to still miss her so much after so many years.

* * *

Virginia shut the ladies' room door behind her and exhaled all of the air out of her lungs. After a few shaky steps toward the tiny vanity, she gratefully sank into a lone chair, then leaned forward to bury her head in her arms.

This morning she would have sworn she could handle anything life handed her, but she had been completely unprepared for the day's news. At thirty, she was about to become an instant mother to an eight-year-old she didn't even know. Topped with the knowledge she would have to forge a new relationship with Bailey Kallihan, she felt as if she had been plunged into a dark lake and left flailing for the surface.