Audra wished she could reject Robert’s appeal, but the nature of the story made that impossible. Despite his ominous tone, she hoped with all her heart the outcome wasn’t horrific. “And . . . what happened?”
“That August, on a hot summer day, Paige had snuck a damn Popsicle. Her stepfather gave her a blow to the head that caused her brain to hemorrhage.”
“My God,” Audra said, her stomach turning again.
“Meredith blamed herself so much for not speaking to the police. She slipped into a pretty bad depression. It took a lot of work, a whole lot of tears and prayers to get out of that slump. So when we noticed some of the same signs with Jack—well, we thought maybe you’d changed after losing Devon. Grief, I know, can do strange things to people....”
He paused and shifted his feet. From the shame in his eyes Audra realized he was referring not just to her but also to him and Meredith. That perhaps the court filing was part of their own grieving process.
“Audra, I hope you can understand. When you talked about being in a rush to move, we got flat-out desperate. The way things were going, we figured there was a good chance we’d never see Jack again. Above all, we knew if anything ever did happen to him because we didn’t try to protect him—even from you—we would never forgive ourselves.”
No question, when recent events were outlined on paper, Audra was well aware how she’d appear as a parent. Meredith’s history aside, the suspicions weren’t exactly unfounded. “What makes you certain now that Jack is safe with me?”
“Our lawyer told us about the police report. How they’d given Jack a thorough check and were satisfied. I admit that it helped put our mind at ease. Beyond that, seeing you in person yesterday, I guess you could say it woke us up. It reminded us how much we really do know you. And that you’re a good person, Audra. More important, you’re a good mom. Deep down, we’ve always believed that—even when you seemed to have doubts about it yourself.”
A mix of emotions whirled through her. She tried to respond but couldn’t assemble the words.
After an exhale, Robert rubbed his jaw and said, “Frankly, I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave us. If I were in your shoes, I’m not sure I’d be capable of that. But I do want you to know how deeply sorry we are. We love you, and we love Jack. No matter where you decide to go from here, I hope you always remember that.”
A quiet beat passed before Robert submitted a smile and turned for his car. He climbed in and drove off, around the corner, out of view. But still Audra stood there, her spirits both blooming and wilting in the afternoon light.
56
The day grew quiet as the sun retired from its post. Children at the fountain had come and gone. Mothers and nannies had pushed countless strollers down the path. A welcome breeze fluttered its fingers at the tree above the bench where Vivian remained.
Since Gene’s departure from the park, she had lost all concept of time. She had shed the tears that begged to fall, but once again the numbness protected her from ruin. She was gazing at the mosaic of filtered light dancing across the grass when a large shadow appeared on the ground.
“It’s time to go.”
She raised her head, expecting a park patrolman to usher her along. Instead, it was Gene.
“I said I’d take care of you.” His tone was tense but level. He didn’t look in her eyes. “I made a promise.”
“Gene . . .”
He grabbed the handles of their travel bags and started toward the street. He was several strides away when he paused, a signal for her to follow.
Alas, he had returned here out of decency, to keep his conscience clear. With nightfall soon arriving, he would ensure she made it home before he walked away forever.
Wearily, she came to her feet. She accompanied him to the sidewalk and on toward the bus depot. They continued in silence over a stretch of city blocks and into Foley Square. When he began to climb a wide set of concrete stairs, she realized where they were.
“This is the courthouse.”
He proceeded without speaking.
“What are we doing here?”
Again, no response. Just more steps.
“Gene, stop.” She grabbed his arm to cease him. “Tell me what we’re doing.”
He shifted his body toward her, though still avoided her eyes. “The baby needs a father,” he said coarsely. “The way I feel about everything else ... I don’t know what to make of yet. All I know is there’s an innocent baby in this mess-a baby that ought to have two parents. There’s no reason it should have to suffer.”
Vivian withdrew her hand. Pride commanded her to refuse. A strong, independent woman would not allow a man to do this, no matter how charitable his intent.