The Secret Wife. Carrie Weaver
The word bounced around her head, slid down her throat and twirled in her stomach, before dropping to the bottom, like one of those penny wishing wells at the Wal-Mart store.
“Th-that’s impossible. I’m his wife.”
“Look, lady, I don’t know you. But you seem like a nice enough person. My brother’s done some pretty crummy things in his life, but he wouldn’t stoop to bigamy.”
“At least we agree about something.”
Eric had been a jerk occasionally. Well, more than occasionally. But he’d been a charming, loving jerk most of the time. She simply couldn’t believe he would do something to hurt her so badly. To hurt his son so badly.
But doubts tiptoed through her mind. He’d never really believed David was his child. Their argument over his paternity had been intense. She’d started spotting immediately and feared she might lose the baby. After that, Eric had neither accepted nor rejected paternity. He had simply humored her, made sure she ate right, got enough rest, suggested a few names for the baby.
And when she’d told him he was listed as David’s father on the birth certificate, he’d just smiled a sad little smile and kissed her gently on the lips. Then he’d taken the newborn from her arms and settled into the hospital rocking chair.
No, he wouldn’t be that cruel.
“Maybe she’s mistaken? This Nancy woman?”
“Nope. I was best man at their wedding, right after Eric graduated high school. And if there’d been a divorce, I would have heard about it.”
That’s when the second shock seeped in. Everything she’d believed to be true was in jeopardy. J.D. was lying. He had to be lying.
“Look, is this some sort of sick practical joke?” Maggie held her breath, waiting for a camera crew to come out of hiding, hoping against hope that this was a new reality TV show designed to humiliate the unsuspecting.
“Is it? A joke?” she asked.
He couldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he stared off in the direction of the door. As if he would rather have been anywhere in the world but here, breaking bad news to a stranger. “No, it’s not a joke.”
“If you’re telling the truth,” she whispered, squeezing the baby so tightly he protested, “that means I’m not married. And David is—”
“A beautiful, healthy child.” He leaned forward. “That’s all that matters.”
“Why are you being so kind?”
The man ran a hand over his head. “I’m not being kind. I’m just stating a fact. My brother is a real asshole sometimes and innocent people get hurt.”
Now she realized the man had said he was Eric’s brother, not once, but twice.
She slumped against the back of the booth. “You’re Jamie?”
“Only to my grandmother. And Eric, if I’m not too pissed off at him.”
Maggie eyed him. “You don’t look anything like him.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot. Same mother, different fathers. Eric’s dad was my stepdad.”
“J.D.—James David?” She tried to reconcile the man before her with her preconceived idea of what Eric’s brother would look like. She’d never even seen a photo of the man, but she’d assumed he would be fair like Eric. Blond hair, blue eyes.
“Yes, that’s me. I prefer J.D. though.” He nodded toward her son. “Is it coincidence, his name?”
“No coincidence. Eric wanted David named after you. He talked about you a lot. Kind of like you were a superhero.”
But it hadn’t always been a nice comparison. Sometimes, usually when he’d had one beer too many, the resentment would creep into his voice. The great Jamie, always doing the right thing, always thinking he was better.
“I doubt that. We don’t get along very well.”
She was silent, watching David’s eyes flutter. His daddy had a lot of faults. She only hoped her son inherited the good qualities. His generosity, his zest for life. The way he reached out and grabbed what he wanted.
“I need to talk to Eric. Sort all this out.”
J.D. glanced at his watch.
“It’ll wait till morning. That way you’ll be…um…refreshed before you see him.”
“That way you can warn him I’m here.”
He rubbed his chin. “The thought crossed my mind.”
“No way. I want to see him now.”
“Can’t. He’s racing just outside of town. That’s why he missed the reunion dinner. His priorities are kinda mixed up.”
“No kidding.” Maggie glanced meaningfully at David. “You said racing?”
“Yeah, you know the stuff. Where the guys drive round and round the track until all of them are wrecked or somebody wins.”
“Of course I know racing. It’s where I met Eric. But he’d given it up. He told me—”
“And you believed him?”
Shifting in her seat, Maggie couldn’t decide which was worse, the guy knowing how completely gullible she’d been, or the extent of her desperation.
“No, not completely. I tried to call him when I didn’t receive divorce papers, but couldn’t reach him at any of the emergency numbers he’d left in the past. Then I checked the Internet at the library. He wasn’t registered anywhere on the amateur stock-car circuit.”
“And you didn’t find him under Eric MacGuire, with an A?”
“No.”
“How about Johnny Bravo?”
Bingo. His favorite cartoon character. J.D. had just handed David’s lovable, lowlife, scum-sucking, no-good jerk of a father to her on a silver platter.
CHAPTER THREE
MAGGIE SURVEYED the cramped lobby while she swayed from side to side, David’s head growing heavy on her shoulder. The motel was neat and clean. Not luxurious, but certainly not a dive—and way off the beaten track.
She watched J.D. set down her suitcase to pull a wad of bills from his pocket. He peeled off several and tossed forty bucks on the counter like it was pocket change. Maybe for some people.
The room was paid up for one night, and one night only. Noon checkout, and Eric’s brother expected her to be long gone by then.
He had a lot to learn about her.
What she might lack in worldly knowledge, she more than made up for with grit. How else would she have survived till now?
J.D. handed her the key card. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed her face.
She kissed the top of David’s downy head, avoiding J.D.’s questioning gaze.
“Thank you,” she murmured.
God, she was getting tired of saying that. Tired of depending on a stranger. But it couldn’t be helped. She’d get her mortuary-science degree, become the best damn funeral director in Phoenix and then she’d never have to rely on anyone again.
“Go get some rest. I’ll drop by tomorrow morning and take you to see Eric. They serve juice and doughnuts right here in the lobby, so you don’t have to go anywhere for breakfast.”
The threat was implicit.
He didn’t want Eric’s second wife parading around where anyone could see her. Just wanted her to disappear like a wisp of smoke. No ugly scene. No smudge