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Authors: Stephanie Bond

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BOOK: Almost a Family
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"There was no father figure in the home, and I gather from my sessions with Chad that he grew up quickly, and assumed the role of caretaker when Lois became ill."

"How did she die?" Bailey asked.

"Cancer," Ms. Andrews replied.

"Was she—" Ginny hesitated, and he saw her clench her hand into a fist. "Was she a decent sort of person?"

The counselor nodded. "Lois Green held a secretarial position and rented a small apartment. It wasn't in the best part of town, but she made certain Chad went to school, and you'll be glad to know he's a good student."

"What grade?" It sounded like a stupid question, but Bailey had no time for pretenses.

"Fourth. I understand you have no other children, Mr. and Mrs. Kallihan?"

Bailey squirmed, and Ginny's cheeks flushed dark pink before she said, "Actually, Ms. Andrews, we're no longer married. I go by the name of Catron."

Mild surprise registered on the woman's face. "Oh? Which family will Chad be living with?"

Bailey coughed. "Neither one of us have a family."

"We're both single," Ginny clarified, "and Ch-Chad will be living with me."

"I see," Ms. Andrews said slowly. "Well, for Chad's sake, I'm sorry you're not living together, but I guess this is the next most desirable situation, if you're both agreeable to the living arrangements." She glanced at Bailey.

"We've reached a compromise." He met Ginny's gaze, and felt a stab of determination to breach the wall she'd erected.

The counselor nodded, then explained they were forty minutes away from the home where they would meet Chad after they signed the necessary papers.

He felt Ginny stir beside him before she asked, "What does he look like?" He glanced at her, but had to look away when he saw the tears gathered in her eyes.

Ms. Andrews smiled. "He's a fine-looking boy. I'm sure you will be very pleased."

The forty minutes crept by. No one spoke, as if conceding that words could not prepare them for what lay ahead. Bailey alternately concentrated on the traffic outside and the tightening and loosening of Ginny's iron grip on her purse. Unable to help himself, he reached over to close his hand over her white-knuckled one, but he didn't look at her for fear she'd pull away. She didn't, and he welcomed her warm skin against his to calm his own jumping nerves.

At last they pulled into the shelter's crowded parking lot. Bailey squinted at the gathering of people and equipment just outside the entrance. "What's going on?"

Mr. Maybry banged his fist on the steering wheel and Ms. Andrews shook her head angrily. "Reporters," she said. "Someone must have leaked the story to the press."

He heard and felt Ginny's sharp inhale, and felt a surge of protectiveness. "Damn. Is there a back entrance?"

"Too late," Mr. Maybry said as the crowd turned and ran toward their van, microphones held high and cameras rolling.

Detective Lance and another police officer were on their feet before the van rolled to a stop. "Follow us," he instructed.

Bailey clasped Ginny's hand and held on, even when she started to pull away. "Stay close to me," he murmured. The din of the crowd exploded around them when the van door opened. A dozen microphones were thrust into their faces and camera flashes blinded them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Kallihan, what are your feelings as you prepare to meet your son for the first time in eight years?"

"Do you know anything about him?"

"What if he doesn't want to live with you?"

"Will you give us a statement before you leave?"

The police officers cleared a path, with Mr. Maybry and Ms. Andrews offering protection from behind. Bailey focused on the home's entrance, his strength growing each time Ginny leaned into him. Finally they reached the steps, the sounds and voices receding behind them as they ascended to safety.

The door closed behind them. Bailey looked around, forcing his eyes to adjust to the dimness, expecting to see his son in any corner of the room. His heart pounded in anticipation.

"I'm terribly sorry about that," Ms. Andrews said. "I guess it was bound to capture the media's attention. It's quite a fantastic story—we've never heard of a reunion like this one."

Bailey had already dismissed the commotion. "Where's my son?"

Mr. Maybry stepped forward. "If you could give us just a few more minutes to sign the necessary paperwork to release Chad into your custody—"

"Show me the papers," he demanded.

At a signal from Mr. Maybry, a secretary scurried out of the room, then returned with a handful of documents.

"Now, Mr. and Mrs.—I mean, Mr. Kallihan and Ms. Catron, if you will—"

Bailey snatched the pen. "Where do I sign?"

The man abandoned whatever rules he'd been prepared to defend, and simply pointed to a blank line on each paper, where Bailey hastily scrawled his name, then handed the pen to Ginny. She hesitated only a second or two before following suit. Bailey suspected it was the first time she'd signed anything with such abandon since their divorce papers.

When she set down the pen, he said, "Now, Mr. Maybry, take us to our son."

"Right this way."

They were led down a carpeted hallway with numbered doors on either side. Ginny gripped his hand tightly. He caught her worried glance and gave her a wink and a comforting smile.

The end of the hall opened into a recreation room, complete with game tables, bookshelves, and bean-bag chairs scattered in front of a TV. Bright fluorescent lights reached into the corners of the room, dimmed by blinds that had been pulled, Bailey realized, to keep out prying cameras. His eyes scanned the quiet room, alighting on a small figure sitting at a table against a far wall. At their entrance the woman sitting with the boy stood and moved away.

Bailey's eyes were riveted on the child as he turned to look their way. His heart threatened to explode as he took in the boy's familiar features. Same dark, unruly hair, same deep widow's peak and slight cowlick, same dense brows, same cobalt-blue eyes. It could have been himself at eight years old.

He heard Ginny's sharp intake of breath, felt her death grip on his hand. "Oh, my God," she whispered.

The boy stood up, his eyes guarded, his expression wary. He wore a baggy blue-and-white-striped T-shirt over denim shorts and high-top athletic shoes. As they walked closer, he dropped his gaze and flicked a paint chip from the surface of the table. When at last he looked at them, Bailey saw pain and fear in the boy's wide, dark eyes. Blood pounded in his ears.
My son... my son... my son.

"Hello," Bailey ventured, pleased that his voice worked at all.

"Hey," came the cautious reply.

Ginny seemed speechless, unable to tear her eyes away from the boy. Bailey wasn't sure what to say next, but his son had apparently been giving this moment a great deal of thought.

"So you're my real parents, huh?" He spoke with the low tone and casual grace of a street-smart kid.

"Yes," Ginny said, her voice wavering only slightly. "Bailey is your father, and I'm Virginia, your m-mother."

The dark eyes scanned them both head to toe, and Bailey held his breath.

"I can see you're my old man," Chad said to Bailey. "We got the same face."

Bailey nodded, confirming the obvious. He was going to have a heart attack if his pulse didn't slow soon.

Then Chad turned to Ginny, and tilted his head. "But you don't look like any mother I've seen."

Bailey had to agree. She looked too young and too slim in a blue wrap dress and high heels. He watched as she smiled, her face lighting with wonder. "But I am," she said gently. "I'm your mother."

His son considered Ginny's words for a few seconds, then turned belligerent eyes her way. "What kind of mother lets her kid get stolen in a grocery store?"

 

 

 

Chapter 4

 

Bailey blinked. Ginny dropped his hand, her shoulders falling, her hand covering her open mouth. Anger bolted through his stomach as he looked back to his unruffled son. The boy even had a slight smile on his face. "What did you say?" Bailey demanded.

Chad rolled his eyes. "I said what kind of mo—"

"Never mind," Bailey interrupted. "I heard you." He turned to the small knot of people in the back of the room. "We'd like some privacy, please."

Ginny's father puffed up and opened his mouth to respond, but her mother quieted him and pulled him from the room along with the others. The door closed noiselessly. The only sound in the room was Ginny's soft sniffling as she struggled to regain her composure.

Bailey wanted to comfort her, but his immediate concern was the cocky cause of her tears.

Chad stood with his arms loosely crossed, challenging Bailey with his eyes and his stance. He was apparently unmoved by tears, and unafraid of a reprisal.

Even as Bailey's mind raced for the appropriate reprimand, he cursed himself. What right did he have to chastise? The boy's words to Ginny were almost identical to the words he'd said to her after the kidnapping. And Bailey had been old enough to know better, not a confused eight-year-old kid.

Whether by design, Bailey wasn't sure, but Chad had lashed out at the very person who would be the most devoted to him.
Like father, like son.
He rubbed at the ache forming in his temple, then leveled his gaze on Chad. "This is strange for all of us, but you had no cause to say that."

Chad shrugged, his eyes remaining passive. "It's a free country, I can say whatever I want."

Bailey straightened, placing his hands on his hips. "Then I hope you want to say you're sorry."

His son's chin raised a notch. "And I suppose you're going to make me,
Daddy?"

The taunt stung Bailey, and it took him a few seconds to recover. The boy was as belligerent as he'd been at that age. He took a deep, steadying breath to rein in his anger. "You can be a jerk to me if you need to blow some steam, son, but"—he took a few steps closer to Chad and assumed an authoritative stance of his own—"don't take it out on your mother."

Chad's eves narrowed. "My mother was Lois Green."

Bailey remained completely still. "Then consider yourself lucky. Some kids don't have a mother at all, and you've had two."

The boy jerked his thumb toward Ginny. "I'm not calling her Mom, and I'm not calling you Dad."

His heart squeezed over yet another intangible loss.

"That's fine," Ginny injected, her voice much stronger. "Virginia and Bailey will do for now." She looked at Bailey, nodding encouragement.

"Sure," Bailey said stiffly.

"And I
don't
want to be called Junior. A counselor told me I could have my name legally changed to Chad Green."

Another pause, and he and Ginny shared another glance. The kid sounded like an eight-year-old going on sixteen. Bailey conceded. "Okay, we'll talk about the name change later."

"So what's this place like, this Columbus, Ohio?" Chad's tone sounded as if he were already decidedly unimpressed with his destination.

Bailey shrugged, immensely relieved to be on more neutral ground. "It's flat, and big, and busy, not unlike here."

"A friend of mine used to live there and said he froze his ass off."

Bailey frowned. "Do you always talk like that?"

"It's a free country—"

"I know," Bailey cut in. "But watch your language."

Chad gave a dismissive wave and turned back to the table. "I changed my mind—I don't want to live with you."

Bailey tamped down his anger. "You're not going to live with me, you're going to live with Ginny."

At last he was rewarded with Chad's undivided attention as the boy sorted the words in his head. He snorted. "You mean you guys are divorced?"

Regret washed over Bailey—he didn't dare look at Ginny because he knew he'd find no remorse there. "That's right."

The boy threw up his arms in resignation. "Great. How many half and step brothers and sisters do I have?"

"None," Ginny said.

"But I have stepparents, right?"

"No," Bailey said.

Their son frowned, the wind taken from his sails. "When did you get divorced?"

Bailey exhaled a long, noisy breath. "A few months after you were kidnapped."

"No more kid, no more marriage?" Chad hooted. "What was I, an accident or something?" One look at Ginny's face, and his smirk disappeared. "You're kidding—I was an accident?"

"Unplanned," Ginny said quickly, "but we wanted you very much."

"Oh, right," Chad declared haughtily. "You were probably glad I was kidnapped! You probably left me alone on purpose!"

"No," Ginny whispered, shaking her head. "We looked everywhere—"

"That's enough," Bailey said, his voice low and just short of threatening. He buried his hand in his hair and bit back a curse. "You're my kid all right. I'd have known it if you didn't look like me because you don't know when to keep your mouth shut."

"Bailey," Ginny began, but he held his hand up to silence her.

"From the minute we arrived, you've been nothing but rude, disrespectful, and downright mean."

"Don't like me, huh?" Chad's voice had lost some of its bravado. "Well, maybe I don't like you either, mister."

BOOK: Almost a Family
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ads

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