Another Way Home Read online

  It would take some time to get used to everything. To let the idea of having an infant soak in.

  Carol Blye, the social worker, waited until Misty had composed herself a little, then turned all business again. “We can work out some of these details in the months to come, but it is Misty’s desire that you legally adopt this baby.”

  Dallas reached for Danae’s hand beneath the table, knowing it was all she could do to contain her joy at this news. Even though it was a strange joy—one profoundly tempered by what this gift would cost Misty.

  “I can’t—” Misty put a hand over her mouth, still struggling. When she finally spoke again, her voice quavered. “But I can’t do the same to Austin. If he remembers me, I don’t ever want him to think I was willin’ to give him away.”

  Her words healed Dallas more than she would ever know. He committed them to memory for the day Austin would need to hear them. “He will remember you, Misty. We want him to see you as often as we’re able to bring him and we—”

  “No. I don’t want that.” Her voice came strong and clear now. “I don’t want that on him. I want him to be a normal kid. Not a kid with a mom in jail. Not an outcast the way I was. Not—”

  “We’ll work everything out. I promise you, Misty.” Dallas stretched his palm over the table, as close to hers as he dared.

  “I just wanted my babies to have a good life.” She started crying again.

  It was like a knife in his gut, knowing that their answer to prayer came at such a high cost.

  “I did wrong by them. I know I did. I don’t know why I couldn’t stay away from Hank—from men like him.” She bowed her head.

  And in the hunch of her shoulders, Dallas saw so many regrets, so many wasted moments.

  As if she knew what he was thinking, she began to spill her heart to them, raw and honest. “I told you already Hank isn’t Austin’s father. I didn’t meet him till after Austin was born. Hank . . . he seemed like he was gonna be a good man. He didn’t want a kid, but he was good to Austin—at first anyway. But he turned. He changed. Before I knew it, he had me in a corner and he knew it.”

  She sniffed, and pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “He might’ve ruined my life, but I couldn’t let him ruin Austin’s too. Except”—she held up her shackled wrists—“I guess he did that anyway.”

  Dallas opened his mouth to speak, but words wouldn’t come.

  Misty shifted in her chair. “I had no choice, I hope you see that. I hope you can make Austin understand that. I blew it big-time when I told Hank where I was. But it didn’t matter anyways. My days were numbered there. And once he found out about this baby . . . we were all dead anyway. Like I said, he never wanted a kid. He only took Austin because I didn’t give him no choice. Isn’t it strange that, in the end, I was the one who didn’t have no choice?”

  The social worker cleared her throat and shot Dallas and Danae an apologetic frown. “Misty, this isn’t information that Mr. and Mrs. Brooks really need.”

  Misty’s jaw clenched, and she turned an angry stare on Carol Blye. “These good people are going to raise my son . . . my babies. And yes, ma’am, this is information they should have.”

  “We would like to have Austin’s medical information,” Danae said softly. “And any family history that might be important for future medical treatment.”

  Misty’s eyes narrowed. “Well, now see, that’s where we have a problem.” She lowered her head again. “I don’t know who Austin’s father is. That was a . . . rough patch in my life. I needed the money—if you get what I’m saying.”

  Dallas looked over to see Danae close her eyes, and he knew she felt awful for opening another wound.

  “I want you to know I stopped that—livin’ that way. Even before I came to the shelter. No booze, no drugs, no men. Not for a long time.” Misty looked Danae in the eye, but avoided Dallas’s gaze.

  Danae held up a hand. “Misty, you don’t owe—”

  “No, but . . . I did. I swear, as soon as I decided to leave him—Hank—I started livin’ clean.”

  He wondered if she understood how that sounded, coming from the mouth of a woman who’d shot her husband in the back.

  But she went on as if it all made perfect sense. “I never wanted my babies growing up the way I did. And I’d rather die than have them in the system . . . or have them visiting their mama in jail. I know what the shame of that is like, and I don’t want that for my kids.”

  Dallas wanted to tell her that as bad as that shame might be, what Austin would imagine if he was told nothing, would be even worse than the truth. Instead, he said, “Your children will know that you loved them. And that you wanted the best for them, that everything you did, you did out of love for them.” He hesitated, not wanting to sound like he condoned what she’d done. “I promise, Misty, your kids will know that, no matter what, you loved them. That’s all they really need to know.”

  “Thank you.” Misty stared past him, unfocused. And no doubt emotionally exhausted.

  “But . . . I don’t want Danae and I to have secrets to keep either. Secrets are never good.”

  He understood that now. For himself. Even so, he wondered how it might have affected him if he’d learned that his own birth mother was a murderer. How could they ever tell Austin that? And yet, it could not be kept a secret. Not for too many years anyway.

  He couldn’t curb the sigh that came at the thought. When he’d been searching for his own mother, he’d had to navigate a maze of legal documents, public records, and newspaper archives. Austin would be able to find Misty’s sordid past with the click of a few keys on a laptop. They would have to tell him someday. But not today. One day at a time . . .

  He put a hand palm-down on the table beside Misty’s. “We have time to talk things over,” he said quietly. “We all have a lot to think through. But I know we can make this work in a way that’s best for Austin and your baby, and for you, Misty.”

  And for him and Danae. But that went without saying.

  Carol Blye released a sigh that sounded like relief. She opened the folder in front of her. “Shall we sign some papers?”

  27

  Do you hear me, Austin?” Danae hollered from the kitchen at the inn, quickly retrieving the last shard of glass from the broken vase. “You stay on that sofa until I tell you it’s OK.”

  She wrapped the broken pieces in newspaper and started for the dumpster in the garage.

  “Here, I’ll take that.” Corinne took the bundle from her.

  “Thanks, sis.” She turned to her mother. “I’m so sorry about your flowers.”

  The roses from the Valentine’s bouquet Dad had sent Mom were flopped in the sink and didn’t really look worth saving.

  Her mother waved off the apology. “Don’t think another thing of it. I got to enjoy them for a few days.”

  Sighing, and embarrassed, Danae tossed the flowers into the trash can under the sink before quickly taking a damp paper towel to the wood floors to catch any slivers of glass she might have missed.

  “I didn’t mean to!” Austin shouted from the sofa in the living room.

  “I know you didn’t, buddy.” She hurriedly washed her hands and went to sit beside him. Huckleberry sat on the floor next to the sofa, his canine head propped beside Austin, silky ears drooping, as if he was in time-out too.

  She patted Austin’s leg. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose, but that’s why I told you not to jump on Gram’s sofa. Because I knew this would happen. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  He gave a begrudging nod and went back to pouting.

  “If you had obeyed me, this wouldn’t have happened. Now Gram doesn’t have her pretty flowers that Poppa gave her, and you have to sit in time-out on the sofa. We could have saved all that trouble if you just would have listened and obeyed what I said in the first place.”

  More pouting.

  “Austin, do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “Yes. Are you gonna still
keep talkin’ and talkin’ at me?”

  She heard her mother and Corinne chuckling in the kitchen, and despite her embarrassment over Austin’s behavior, she had to bite back her own laughter. “No. Not if you’ve learned your lesson.”

  He bounced on his bottom causing the sofa cushions to come halfway off the seat. The kid was a veritable Tigger. “Now can I go play with Sari-n-Sadie-n-S’mone?” He jumbled the girls’ names together as if they were all one word.

  Sari was out of school for Presidents’ Day so Corinne and Danae had brought the kids to the inn for the day. The Pennington girls were fast becoming his favorite playmates, so it was pure torture for him to have to sit in time-out.

  Danae glanced up at the clock. “You need to sit here for three more minutes.” She’d already shortened his time by several minutes, but ten minutes was starting to seem like an eternity—even to her.

  She waited until it wouldn’t seem like she was caving in, then released him. “OK, you can go play. But don’t forget what we talked about.” She picked up a stray puzzle piece from the carpet. “Give this to Sari. I think that goes to her puzzle.”

  “No, Sari don’t gots any puzzles.”

  “She doesn’t have any puzzles,” she corrected. They’d been working on Austin’s grammar. He’d improved too. But every time Danae was around Misty, she realized why Austin spoke the way he did. Part of her felt guilty—for Misty’s sake—trying to change his speech. And yet, he would be handicapped in so many ways if he didn’t learn to speak correctly. Misty was proof of that. She put her hands on his face and made him look at her. “Did you hear what I said? Can you say that? She doesn’t have any puzzles.”

  He stomped his foot. “That’s what I awready told you! Didn’t you hear me?”

  She hid a smile and gave him a gentle swat on the behind. “Go play, silly. And settle down, OK? You play nice with the girls.”

  But he was halfway down to the basement playroom, Huckleberry in tow, before she finished her sentence.

  She rejoined her mom and sister at the kitchen table, slumping dramatically into the chair. “How do you do it, Corinne? And Mom! Five of us? Seriously, how did you survive?”

  “This too shall pass,” Mom said.

  “And pass, and pass, and pass, and pass,” Corinne deadpanned.

  “It seems like we just get over one hurdle and then he’s doing something else we have to discipline him for. He probably thinks he lives in time-out, but I don’t want to let him get away with stuff.”

  Mom patted her arm. “You’re doing just fine, Danae. He’s a sweet kid. But he’s had a huge upheaval in his life, and even if he can’t understand exactly what’s happened, he knows something’s up. It’s going to take some time.”

  “Not to mention, he’s a boy!” Corinne said. “When I get together with Liz, my friend with the four little monsters . . . er, I mean boys, it’s a whole different dynamic.”

  “And vive la différence,” Mom said.

  “I guess.” Danae blew out a weary breath. “At least he always seems to settle down when Dallas is around.”

  “That’s because he’s needed a daddy all his life, and now he finally has one worth the title,” Mom said. “You’ll get through it.”

  “I’m a little nervous about how things are going to be when we add a baby to the mix.”

  “I know the feeling,” Corinne said, patting the swell of her June baby beneath her maternity shirt. “Everything going good with your baby?”

  Danae laughed and patted her own flat belly.

  Corinne laughed. “That’s not very nice. I am seriously jealous of your figure, sister.”

  “Well, that makes us even. Though I must admit I’m not quite as jealous as I used to be. I think I might go nuts if I found out I was pregnant right now.”

  “I’m here to tell you,” Corinne said, “it would all work out just fine if you were pregnant too.”

  “You can’t know that yet.” Danae looked pointedly at her sister’s belly. “Come back in two months and we’ll talk.”

  It was so good to laugh together. She was still getting used to her sisters commiserating with her about baby things. It was what she’d always dreamed about. And she loved the feeling of fitting in and not feeling on the outside of those conversations. Although in truth, the “privilege” was a little anticlimactic now that it had been granted.

  “You never answered my question though, Danae.” Corinne turned serious. “What is the news on the baby?”

  “Really nothing new. Misty’s healthy, the baby’s growing as it should. The time is going a lot faster than I thought it would.” She rolled her eyes. “Austin sees to that. I was feeling kind of bad that Dallas is working such long hours and handling nearly all of the legal stuff with custody and guardianship for the kids. But I’m telling you, I’m working overtime, too, just keeping up with that one.” She pointed toward the basement.

  As if her words had summoned them, the clomping of little feet on the stairway made them all look that direction.

  “Can we have a ’nack?” Simone asked.

  “Yeah, can we have a ’nack?” Austin echoed.

  “Ask Gram,” Corinne said.

  “Gram?” Austin looked up at her with his big puppy dog eyes. “Can we?”

  Mom jumped up with a wink at Danae. “How could I say no to that?”

  “If you can, you’re a stronger woman than I.”

  Mom laughed, and her little shadows followed her to the pantry to rummage for “ ’nacks.” Danae’s heart swelled with pride in her boy. Her boy. It had been hard not to think of Austin as her son. But she’d begun to refer to him as “my boy,” and that felt like the next best thing.

  * * *

  “What do you think about that, buddy? A new brother or sister? Won’t that be awesome?”

  Judging by the roll of Danae’s eyes, Dallas guessed he might be overhyping the announcement just a bit. But he was dying with his audience.

  Austin shrugged. “Can I play a bideo game?”

  Dallas shot Danae a questioning look. Was this a normal reaction from a little boy on hearing he was going to be a big brother? He and Danae had decided to treat the coming baby as if it was a casual, everyday event. They intended, when the baby came—about a month from now—to present it to Austin as a gift that Misty had given him, and all of them. They wanted the whole event to be a warm remembrance of his birth mother, something for Austin to look back on fondly.

  And frankly, something to ease the sting of telling him that Misty wasn’t coming home. Ever. They’d agreed that, at his age, it wouldn’t be something they’d sit down and make an announcement about. Instead, they would answer his questions as they came up, and hope that he “absorbed” the truth slowly. Still, it was something he’d have to know eventually.

  “Can I?” Austin eyed the basket that held the video game controls.

  They certainly hadn’t expected this nonreaction to the news about the baby.

  Danae shrugged, apparently taken aback by it too. “You can play your video game, sport,” she said. “But not until after supper. And then just for a few minutes.”

  “If you eat all your vegetables,” Dallas reminded.

  “Awww, Dad, do I hafta?”

  Dallas’s heart nearly stopped beating. Austin looked up at him with an expression he couldn’t quite decipher—a cross between ornery and . . . testing? “Did you just call me Dad?” He tweaked Austin’s nose, trying to keep it light.

  Austin squirmed, looking embarrassed. “Is that OK?” he squeaked.

  Dallas exchanged looks with Danae, who shrugged, looking as shell-shocked as he felt. “What do you think, Mo—” He’d almost called Danae, “Mom.” But they hadn’t had time to think—or talk—this through, and he wasn’t sure how to handle it.

  “What made you ask that, buddy?” Danae scooted closer to Austin on the sofa and put her arm around him.

  “ ’Cause that’s what Sari-n-Sadie-n-S’mone call their people.” />
  He and Danae laughed out loud, which made Austin bury his head in his lap, squirming harder.

  Dallas patted his back. “Hey, we’re not laughing at you, sport. We’re laughing because that makes us happy.”

  “Look up here, Austin,” Danae urged. “Look at me.”

  He peeked out beneath his elbow, and she prayed for the right words. Words that would heal and not do more damage. “Do you remember your mama, Austin?”

  He sat up straighter. “She gots me a bwack-and-white ball.”

  “A soccer ball. That’s right, she did.” Danae looked up at Dallas. “He had it at the shelter.”

  “I wonder what happened to it,” Dallas said over Austin’s head.

  “Probably got put away after he broke something with it.”

  “Huh-uh, I never braked anything” Austin wagged his head.

  “I know, buddy. I’m just teasing. Hey”—she put a finger under his chin and tilted Austin’s head until they were eye to eye—“your mama loves you very much. You know that? And she misses you.”

  He cast down his dark gaze.

  “Austin?” Danae’s voice went gentle. “Do you remember . . . your daddy?”

  The way she said it, through gritted teeth, Dallas knew she hated to use the name she called her own father to refer to Hank Arato. But it was what Austin had called Hank.

  Austin shook his head hard. “Mama said he hurts me.”

  “Yeah, buddy. He did. I’m so sorry that happened, Austin,” he said. “But that man is . . . He’s not ever going to hurt you

  again, OK?”

  Dallas scooted closer until Austin was squished between Danae and him. What his own parents had called a “fam sandwich” when he and Drew would squeeze in between them on the couch. He hadn’t thought of the memory in years, and it

  warmed him.

  Austin looked up at him with big, round puppy dog eyes. Dallas understood now how Danae could never say no to those eyes.

  “I think—” He willed his voice to hold up against the huge boulder in his throat. “If you want to call us Mom and Dad—like Sari-n-Sadie-n-S’mone call their people—I think that would be just fine. Don’t you . . . Mom?” He threw a wink at Danae.