The Promise of Christmas. Tara Quinn Taylor
hadn’t thought of that,” he said. “And to take it a step further, they could be more at risk for abuse in a foster home, if that was where they ended up. You hear about the abuse that goes on in some of them, and I’d guess that a kid who didn’t look like the rest of the kids would be more of a target. As much as we like to think differently, even in the twenty-first century there’s still far too much prejudice among us.”
Leslie was moved by his clearsightedness and his compassion. Moved by it and persuaded. Her decision was made. Saturday or not, she was calling Jim in the morning. She wanted those temporary orders issued—for both kids—and permanent ones started, as well.
Whatever it took, she was going to find a way to make this work.
CHAPTER THREE
“YOU’VE BEEN UP ALL NIGHT?”
Shirt unbuttoned, shoes on the floor, Kip lay back on the couch in Clara’s family room and watched as Leslie, dressed in a black running suit and tennis shoes, came in. He’d heard her on the stairs.
“I dozed off,” he told her, stretching the truth a bit. He’d been in a kind of trance, but wasn’t sure he’d ever really slept as the dark hours dragged by. “Being here in this house, trying to make sense of the present, to figure out the future, I found myself wandering back to the past. Did you know that Cal once told me he was never going to have kids?”
Leslie perched on the arm of the chair across from him. “Don’t most guys think that way in high school?”
“I sure did.” Lethargic, Kip didn’t move, just lay there with his arms at his sides, head propped up on the arm of the couch. If he didn’t get up, he wouldn’t have to face the first decision in his life that just might be too big for him. “I didn’t change my mind about it, either.”
“You don’t have to take him, Kip,” Leslie said, her blue eyes soft. She’d pulled her mass of auburn curls into a ponytail on top of her head. Even without makeup she was beautiful.
God, how she’d grown up. He’d thought about that during the long night, too. Vacillated between great interest in the new Leslie, and anger at her for changing from the kid sister she’d always been. Angry at her for tempting him.
“I was thinking about the time Cal and I came out of the locker room after a particularly great Friday-night game to find the Saylor twins waiting. They’d set aside the whole night just for us. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven.”
Kip grinned at Leslie as he relived, just for a second, those easier days of youth when things had seemed black and white rather than the confusing shades of gray he now knew them to be.
“From what I remember, that was all in a day’s work for the two of you,” Leslie said, smiling back. “Or a night’s…”
“Yeah, well, the Saylor twins were…special.”
“Loose you mean.”
“Generous is how I’d describe them.”
Shaking her head, Leslie grinned even more. “You’re an embarrassment to faithful men everywhere, Kip Webster.”
He should probably sit up. But it felt so damn good lying there, talking to her. Natural.
“Hey, now,” he said, “I’m not unfaithful. Being unfaithful means there had to be faith to begin with. Promises and vows—which I haven’t made. I’ve never once pretended to be anything other than what I am.”
“And that is?”
He opened his mouth with a ready quip, met her eyes, and closed it again, smile fading.
“I’m honest, Les. I never allow a woman to think she’s the only one in my life.”
Her grin was gone, too. “Has there ever been a time there’s been only one?” The question was almost a whisper.
“There’ve been more times when there’ve been none.”
“No!” She reached across and yanked at his toe before dropping into the chair. “The great Kip Webster without a woman?”
“I didn’t say it happened—just that there’ve been more times when I didn’t have a woman than when I had only one.” He didn’t join her attempt to return them to the lighthearted conversation of moments ago. “You know something?” he said, completely serious. “That night when the Saylor twins were waiting for us, Cal and I had already agreed to go right home and get a good night's rest. We’d told your mother that first thing Saturday morning we'd move an elderly client of hers out of the house she’d just closed on….”
Kip could remember that night like it had been the week before.
“I was halfway to the car with the twins, fully prepared to pull an all-nighter and then help your mom, but Cal would have none of it. He said we could see the twins the next night. I thought he’d lost his mind.” Kip couldn’t find the smile that should have accompanied the boyhood memory. All he could find was the panic that had set in when Jim Brackerfield pronounced him guardian of a five-year-old boy.
“So you went out with the twins and Cal came home?” Leslie asked.
“No, I was spending the night at your house. And Cal was right. They agreed to see us the next night.”
Swinging his legs to the floor, Kip sat up. “But that’s the thing, Les. I would’ve gone. It never even occurred to me not to go. I’m just not the responsible type.”
When she leaned forward, Kip could see a hint of the cleavage he’d first noticed when she was about fifteen and he’d been leaving for college. He’d only ever seen her twice since then, until now. At her high school and college graduations.
“You were seventeen, Kip!”
“I like women, Les. I can imagine meeting someone at a business lunch, stretching lunch to dinner and completely forgetting to pick up the kid from daycare or wherever he might be.”
“Have you ever had a cat?” Leslie asked.
“Yeah, how’d you know?”
“That time mine was hit by a car and almost died and you drove me to the vet. While we were waiting, you told me your dad wouldn’t allow you to have a pet but when you were on your own you were going to get a cat. Couldn’t be a dog because they had to be taken for walks and you weren’t planning to be home every night.”
Since her words only added weight to the dread already consuming him, Kip didn’t share her humor. “See what I mean? Even then I knew I couldn’t be relied on.”
“Did you ever forget to feed your cat?”
“Of course not.” He wasn’t a complete imbecile. “He always had a clean litter box, too. He was almost ten when he got leukemia. I can’t tell you the nights I sat up with him before he finally had to be put down.”
“There you go,” Leslie said, standing up. “You like to play, Kip, but you’ve never been one to shirk your responsibilities. Take that night with the Saylor twins,” she said, her mischievous grin affecting him in mysterious ways, “you’d have gone, but you also would’ve shown up to help my mother, worked your ass off, then gone home and crashed as soon as you were done.”
Maybe. But…
“And that would’ve been a horrible example to set,” he told her. “You know me, Les. I was born wild. If it hadn’t been for your family taking pity on me, I wouldn’t have any idea at all of what family life’s supposed to be like. And I didn’t totally get it even when I was here. How many times did I worry your mother sick because I forgot to call when I was coming here and I was late? Or forgot to come over, period? I was arrested at sixteen for possession of an illegal substance…”
“It was a first offense, the only offense, the record was sealed when you turned eighteen and no one will ever know about it.”