Where the Road Ends. Tara Quinn Taylor

Where the Road Ends - Tara Quinn Taylor


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was needed at work.

      And what about Kathy? Was it fair to let her go after she’d dedicated five years of her life to them?

      “You’re only twenty-eight, Kath,” she said, taking a step closer to the woman. The two of them were standing in the middle of the elegant front room.

      Facing off or moving together?

      “Until this past year, you’ve always had a lot of boyfriends. You wanted to get married and have children of your own, but you haven’t been away from Charles or me in months. And talk of any life outside this house doesn’t even exist anymore.”

      Kathy’s eyes darted around the room, her forearm jerking up and then back to her side as though signaling an end. “Charles is my child.” The words were sharp.

      Where was the woman Amelia had wanted to hug just seconds before?

      Suddenly, Johnny’s warning was all she could hear, all she could think about. Her husband had been observant, intuitive about people, and the most dedicated father she’d ever known. She remembered the immediate reason for this meeting, Kathy’s remark, in front of Charles, that Amelia did not have the right to make important decisions regarding her son’s life.

      How had it come to this? At one time, it had been a blessing just to have Kathy around. Amelia and Johnny had often marveled at how lucky they’d been to find her. They’d been so thankful.

      “You know he’s not really your child,” Amelia said softly, treading carefully in territory she neither recognized nor understood. “He’s my son, Kathy. Mine and Johnny’s.”

      Kathy motioned awkwardly again, her entire body jerking slightly, as though she’d been hit and was trying to hide the impact.

      “Johnny’s dead.”

      Amelia couldn’t argue with that. They’d brought her the shirt he’d been wearing that last day. Pulled out of the ocean almost a mile from the initial explosion. It was little more than shreds.

      “In body, not in spirit.”

      Kathy’s fingers fidgeted almost imperceptibly at her sides, then stopped and her chin rose belligerently. “You hired me to love Charles.”

      “To care for him, yes,” Amelia admitted. And of course she’d been gratified, and greatly relieved, to leave Charles in the hands of someone who not only kept him safe, but loved him. Kathy had been young and inventive; she’d entertained Charles, made his life fun. Made all their lives fun with her impromptu games and celebrations.

      “That love gives me rights.” There was no mistaking the challenge in the nanny’s tone.

      “Some.”

      “Do you love Charles?”

      “Of course! And because he’s my son, he’s my responsibility.”

      “He’s my responsibility, too. And I love him every bit as much as you do.”

      Amelia sighed. “Kathy, I’m his mother.”

      They stood there on the plushest of carpets, and continued to confront each other, one in business clothes, the other in capri pants and a pastel, button-down blouse.

      “But, I’ve raised him.”

      Amelia’s throat closed as she faced Kathy’s hard-eyed stare. The younger woman still maintained an outward calm. But she was way out of line. In her thinking. In her attitude.

      Just as Johnny had suspected.

      “You’ve helped, yes,” Amelia murmured, not at all sure how to proceed. “Tremendously. But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my son and you should have sons of your own.”

      Kathy started—not trembling, nothing so uncontrolled as that. “Charles is as much my son as he is yours, Amelia,” she said in an odd, faraway voice. “Being a mother is more than a biological function. We both know I’ve filled that role for Charles much more than you have.”

      Oh, God. Who was this woman?

      Fear rose within Amelia as she accepted that her deceased husband’s fears had been realized. On the verge of losing what little breakfast she’d eaten, she stood straight, strong, in control.

      “Which is why I’ve decided it’s time to change some things,” Amelia said, calmed by her own voice, her ability to sound as though she could handle anything.

      She didn’t know whether she was having any effect on Kathy, but she was convincing herself.

      “What things?”

      Was that panic she read in Kathy’s eyes?

      Could the bravado be just that, then—a brave front Kathy erected as a way to deal with the pain and tragedy that had been crippling this household for the past year? Amelia could certainly understand that. Some days it felt as if bravado was the only glue holding her together.

      So was Kathy’s behavior merely her attempt to achieve a sense of control over uncontrollable circumstances?

      Amelia just didn’t know.

      “You’re never going to find a husband or a life of your own as long as you’re tied to Charles.”

      “I have plenty of time to find a husband, to start a family. Right now Charles needs me.”

      “It’s not good for a little boy to have someone who’s dedicated her entire life to him,” Amelia said, certain of that much at least. “He’ll be spoiled, growing up to expect his relationships to be centered on him. He’ll expect to be waited on, to have whoever’s in his life there for him whenever he deems it necessary or desirable.”

      “He’s just going on five, Amelia. He’s supposed to be able to count on having someone there for him.”

      “There for him, yes, but he also needs to be aware that those around him have their own lives. He sees me go to work, sees me with Cara. Johnny worked, went out with his friends. Charles sees you go nowhere. He sees you loving no one but him. You’re always here, always available. Your existence has no purpose other than him.” Amelia broke off.

      The nanny was silent for so long Amelia started to sweat. She was completely unsure of Kathy’s mental state these days and couldn’t begin to predict what the woman was thinking. Or how she might react.

      “It’s not healthy for you, Charles or even me to have you so completely dedicated to us,” she added, hoping that Kathy wasn’t too hurt by her words.

      When Kathy moved suddenly, Amelia barely stopped herself from throwing up her arms in defense. She was taller and stronger than the nanny, but…

      Kathy dropped onto one of the sofas, resting her forearms on her knees, head bent.

      “You may be right.” The words were soft but clear. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’ve closed myself off.” She glanced up at Amelia. “There always seemed to be…so much need here, and I need to be needed.”

      “You are needed, Kath,” Amelia said, coming to sit beside the younger woman, taking her hand. “It’s just that I think we’ve fallen into a co-dependency that’s dangerous for all of us.” She winced at using a term she considered psychobabble, but couldn’t come up with a better one.

      “Dangerous?” Kathy pulled her hand away, clasping it with her other one in front of her. “I don’t like the way that sounds,” she said, staring at her clasped hands.

      Standing, Amelia crossed the room to look out at the expanse of green lawn she’d once taken such pride in. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ve been forced to face a lot of truths this past year. About my life. My marriage. Myself. And I’m finding that while there are some things I can’t control, there are other things I can—and I’ve let them slip out of my control.”

      Kathy was silent. Neither friend nor employee. Or family member. Glancing


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