Another Woman's Son. Anna Adams
Tony’s mitten. “Mom, are you and Dad going to the park with Ben and the baby?” She held the glove for Tony and he slid in his hand.
Ben watched, bemused. Her way was much better than his usual method, all but pinning his boy to the floor. And he still rarely maneuvered Tony’s thumb into the right spot.
“We haven’t eaten breakfast,” George said again.
“Too bad. You could both use the exercise after being cramped in cars and hotel rooms.”
Ben lifted Tony, absently kissing his forehead for the sake of keeping close contact. “You know you’re both welcome to stay here.” The last thing he wanted was the two of them in constant watch mode, but now that Amelia had said she couldn’t sleep surrounded by Faith’s memories, he offered without fear she’d accept.
“Thanks, but we tend to talk at night when we can’t sleep, and George wanders. He’d only annoy you.”
Amelia kissed Tony’s forehead, too. Appreciative of all the attention, Tony wrapped his arms around his father’s head.
“If you’re sure.” Aware of Isabel’s heavy suspicions, he was ashamed of playing both her and her parents. Last night, his plan had seemed like a good idea. When she decided to tell her parents everything about Faith and Will he’d know. The change in her would be as obvious as the twirl of a weather vane.
“I’d better get this little guy out of here.” Ben tried to pull Tony to a less tipsy position, but Tony liked perching above the world. He thumped Ben’s head, a small, mischievous snowman playing a convenient drum. “We may drop by the house later, Isabel, to see if you need any help.”
“Would you like a hand, Isabel?” Her mother’s anxious question softened Isabel’s glance.
“I have to do it all myself. Even if you could help, I’d have to look over everything first, because some items go back to Leah.”
“How is she?” George didn’t sound as if he really cared. As easy to read as his daughter’s, his tone asked how any woman could take to her bed rather than saying a last goodbye to her son. “On her feet again?”
“Dad.” Isabel said no more. They’d obviously discussed—even argued—about George’s attitude toward Leah.
To his shame, Ben felt a little satisfaction that Isabel and her parents weren’t entirely in sync.
CHAPTER FOUR
“RAY?” ELBOWS DEEP in a wardrobe full of sweaters, Isabel almost dropped her cell phone. She grabbed it as it slid off her shoulder. “This is Isabel Barker.”
“Isabel.” Ray’s welcome-back-to-town was unconditional and uncomplicated. “I tried to speak to you at the funerals, but you were so upset I’m not sure you saw me.”
She hadn’t. “I’m still troubled.” That was no lie. “I need to see you about legal matters between Will and me.”
“I’m glad you called. We do need to talk. Can I send you back to my receptionist to make an appointment?”
“I wish you’d meet with me today, Ray, if you can.”
He hesitated only a second. A long-ago friend of Will’s dad, he’d been more a father figure to both Will and her than an attorney. “Come now if you don’t mind talking over my lunch.”
“Thanks. I’m grateful.”
About twenty-five minutes later, she turned into the parking garage at Ray Paine’s marble-and-glass building off Dupont Circle. Hardly anyone noticed her as she padded across the polished entrance in sneakers. Designer sneakers that would fall apart at the first hint of a run, but still…
In the elevator, she punched the number for Ray’s floor. Determined to be strong from now on, being here reminded her how she used to fade into her husband’s background. She dreaded the receptionist’s greeting.
The woman had always had a soft spot for Will. The way she reacted to Isabel would show immediately whether Will had talked to Ray about a divorce. Isabel braced herself for open antagonism.
Her angst came to nothing. The doors opened on Ray’s private floor, and the receptionist’s desk stood empty in front of his open office. Isabel checked the hall. Up here, she’d be underdressed in jeans and a sweater.
Who gave a damn how she looked? She should have asked for this meeting before she’d scuttled off to Middleburg—hiding as if she’d done something wrong.
“Isabel? Is that you?”
Ray came out. Tall and spare and silver haired, he opened his arms. “I knew I heard the elevator. How are you?”
Relief swept her. Nothing had changed. Ray still loved her without resentment, which meant Will had kept his mouth shut. She’d have to explain. Telling him about her sister and her husband wouldn’t be easy, but at least Will hadn’t treated their friend to his cover story about her straying first.
“I’m okay, considering.” She hugged the older man, who offered a second squeeze for comfort. “Thanks again for seeing me.”
“Why haven’t you called? I can’t remember how long it’s been.” He looked closer. “Are you sleeping well?”
She stepped away. “I’ll be better after you and I talk. Have you finished eating?”
“Don’t worry about that.” Curiosity lifted his plush eyebrows. “You know me—work through lunch every day. Come in and we’ll talk. I’d absolutely love to share my salad.”
Despite their mutual sadness, Isabel found a smile for his sour tone. “You offer it as if you’re suggesting cyanide.”
“I hate the stuff, but Pam tells me I’m thickening at the middle.” He patted his stomach, but his grin turned sheepish as if humor might be improper. After all, she was a widow.
She just didn’t know how to grieve. “Pam?”
He glanced toward the receptionist’s desk. “My—uh—”
“Oh.” Pam must have a general weakness for powerful men. “You don’t look thick to me.”
“Ah, you’re a good friend. Your company will help the greens go down easier.”
Isabel followed him inside and sat carefully on a black leather armchair across from his perch on the edge of a matching sofa. With a plastic fork, he picked through a mound of salad in a take-out box. “We should discuss the will first.”
“I’m still in it?”
He looked up, eyebrows twitching. Spinach dropped off his fork. “Why?”
She touched her temples, fighting dizziness. “You didn’t know we were separated?” His welcome-back-to-town hadn’t been that at all. He hadn’t realized she’d left.
Ray worked out the changes in his head. She’d like to hear his thoughts out loud. What did this alter?
“Will never told me—and I might add, neither did you.” He dropped the fork and sat back, sliding his hands along the leather cushion. “I’m dumbfounded. When did this happen?”
“Three months ago. Will told me he’d fallen in love with—someone else, and I left our house. I’ve been in Middleburg since then.”
“You’re kidding.” He plucked steel-rimmed glasses off the coffee table and pushed them onto his nose. “Will never mentioned it. He made several appointments with me. Never said one word.” He waited for her to fill in the gaps.
“I’ll never be able to explain anything he did.” Her confusion only mortified her. “Why did he see you?”
“Business. Contracts he wanted me to check. A complaint against your home-owner’s association. He wanted to build a pool, but the architectural