An Invincible Summer (Wyndham Beach #1)(79)

She rolled her eyes. As if she wanted Brett’s flattery at that moment. “I mean what did you tell him about why . . .” She couldn’t say the words: Why I gave him away. Why I walked out of the hospital, leaving him behind. Why I wasn’t brave enough . . .

“I told him the truth. That things were different forty years ago, that there was a stigma then that doesn’t seem to exist today. I told him your parents forced you to give him up and I . . .” Brett swallowed hard. “I didn’t stand up for you, or for him. That I talked you into it, mostly because I wanted to go to Ohio State and play football and go to the pros. I told him if it had been up to you, you would have brought him home with you. You would have found a way to raise him with or without me. But I talked you out of it.” He was openly crying, something Maggie hadn’t known he was capable of.

“Stop.” Her voice caught.

But he went on. “I convinced you it would be better for him to grow up in a stable home with two adult parents. I made you believe there would be other babies for us. I told him the truth. I told him I was a selfish, self-centered bastard who only thought about myself and the future I wanted.”

“In the end, it was my decision. I was the one who walked away.” She was whispering, the truth so hard to speak aloud.

“The day you were leaving the hospital . . . remember?”

“Please don’t . . .” Her arms wrapped around her middle like a shield against his words.

Ignoring her protest, he continued. “You asked me, begged me, to walk down the hall with you and look at him. ‘Just look at him. He’s so tiny and so beautiful. If you see him’ . . .” His voice broke, and he made no attempt to hide his tears or the wave of regret that washed over him.

“Please stop.” Maggie covered her face.

He closed his eyes, his face a mask of anguish. “But I really didn’t want to because I was afraid you were right. If I saw him, would I be able to leave him there? Was I too much of a coward to look at my own son? But then I—”

Coraline’s voice came through the intercom. “Chief, there’s a guy on the phone who—”

“Take a message, please. And hold my calls.” He hit the button to turn off her voice. He cleared his voice as if to compose himself and, to Maggie, said, “When he contacted me, of course I wanted to meet him.”

“What’s he like?”

“He’s . . . he’s pretty terrific, Maggie. He’s more forgiving than I ever would have expected him to be.”

“The people who raised him . . .”

“His parents, Maggie. Those were his parents, not us,” he said. “They were great people. Gave him everything we would have wanted him to have. Love. Stability. A happy home, a great education. He said he’d always known he was adopted but never felt he was less than their son.”

“Bless them for . . .” Maggie began to sob, and Brett started to get up to comfort her, but she shook her head no.

Brett backed away and waited until the worst had passed. When her sobs subsided, he said, “He wants very much to meet you.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. She hadn’t wanted to appear weak in front of him, but there was no point in pretense. “I’m so afraid of what he’ll think of me, leaving him like that. I never tried to find him. I just let him go.”

“Maggie, he knows everything. And he understands. If he’s holding a deep-seated grudge against us, he’s hiding it well. In all our conversations, there have been no recriminations, no accusations on his part. He just wanted to know who we were.” He paused before correcting himself. “Who we are.”

“Did he tell you he found Natalie the same way he found Jayne?”

“He did. He said he’d contacted Natalie, but her response was he must be mistaken.”

“What did you tell him? About meeting me?”

“I said it wasn’t my call. I didn’t know if you’d told your husband, your kids. He said Natalie hadn’t been receptive, so he decided not to pursue it with her. He didn’t want to rock the boat as far as your family is concerned.”

Maggie opened her bag and rummaged through its contents, searching for tissues. She wiped her face and blew her nose. “I don’t know what to do.”

“I’m afraid I can’t offer you any help there.”

“I wasn’t asking you to.”

“Fair enough.”

They stared at each other across the flat surface of his desk. The room was so quiet she could hear the round schoolhouse-style clock ticking off the seconds on the wall behind her.

Maggie turned toward the door. She needed space. “Thanks for your time.”

“If you decide you want to get in touch with him, I can . . .” He started to walk around the side of the desk, but she backed away before he could reach her.

“I’ll let you know.” She opened the door before he could open it for her and left the office, her nerves a jumble, feeling his eyes on her back the entire way down the hall.

She wondered how she could get past Coraline without the woman noticing her swollen eyes and red nose, but Coraline was on the phone, her back to the hall as Maggie hurried past.

Once outside, Maggie took several long, deep breaths, trying to even out her emotions so she could think. When she realized deep breathing wasn’t helping, she walked to the corner and started up Cottage.