Or so Corrine assumed until Friday morning at breakfast, when Kira said, “Grandpa came to see me last night. He was mad but he gave me a big hug and then Grandma told him to go away.”
Aleta and Corrine shared a look. Aleta said, “Sweetheart, drink your juice.”
Kira frowned. “You mean you don’t want me to talk about Grandpa?”
Corrine said, “Your grandpa loves you very much.”
“But why was he so mad?”
“It’s too complicated to explain, honey,” Corrine told her. “All you really need to know is he isn’t mad at you.”
“He’s not?”
Aleta reached across and stroked Kira’s hair. “No way.”
Kira seemed to be satisfied with that. She finished up her breakfast and Corrine took her to school.
Once Corrine got back home, Aleta offered tea and the orange nut bread she’d baked the day before. They sat at the kitchen table and Aleta talked about Davis.
She didn’t say anything new exactly. Most of it was stuff Matt had already told Corrine, such as that Davis swore he never knew that Luz had had his child. “But I’ve known that man for a very long time. He would have felt some…responsibility for Luz, after what happened between them.”
“You think he would have checked on her, would have known she was pregnant after their affair?”
Aleta nodded. “And he would have added up the months.”
Corrine suggested, “Maybe he didn’t want to know.”
Aleta shrugged. “Well. I suppose that’s possible.”
“You’re hurt that he betrayed you. Still hurt, even after all these years.”
“I am. And deeply humiliated. I don’t think I really forgave him, when it happened. I just decided to go on. We had all nine of the children by then, all of them under ten. Zoe was a just a baby and Abilene was still in diapers. I asked him to leave when he told me. We were separated for a couple of weeks. But I couldn’t even consider divorcing him then. It seemed too wrong. For the children’s sake. For the family. So we reconciled. I thought I was over it. But now that I know the woman was Luz Cabrera, of all people, and that she had Davis’s child…”
“You mean you never really got over that he betrayed you?”
“No. I didn’t. I see that now.”
Corrine thought of poor Bob. Yes, she was still furious at herself for what she’d done. But at least they hadn’t gotten married—let alone had a baby. Or nine. How terrible, to be betrayed by the one person who had sworn to stick by you, to be true to you, no matter what.
She suggested, “I know this may sound strange, but what about Luz? Maybe you could talk to her? Ask her if Davis knew that Elena was his.” The idea wasn’t that far-fetched. Luz, whose husband had left her when he learned of her betrayal with Davis, was part of the Bravo family now, as bizarre as that seemed. Not only was Davis her natural daughter’s real father, but her adopted daughter, Mercy, had married Luke.
Aleta stared down at her untouched slice of orange nut bread. “Mercy says Luz told her that Davis didn’t know.”
“Well, see, then?”
Aleta only shook her head. “It’s all just too tangled up and awful.”
“You don’t believe Mercy?”
“I think she’s telling the truth as she knows it. And maybe it would be a good thing for me, to hear what Luz has to say. But frankly, I can’t bear the idea of talking to Luz. I don’t know how she would react if I approached her. I don’t know how I would react, to find myself hashing it all out again with my husband’s former lover, face-to-face. The last thing I want is to stir up more trouble. We have plenty of that now already.”
Right then, the phone rang. When Corrine ignored it, Aleta sent her a questioning look. The machine clicked on. “Damn it, Corrie.” Matt’s deep voice filled the room. “Call me.” Click. Dial tone.
Aleta arched a brow.
Corrine shook her head. “Please. Don’t even ask.”
Matt felt like a complete jerk. Probably because he was a complete jerk, pushing Corrie to have sex with him when she had another guy’s ring on her finger.
But still. Why couldn’t she take a little pity on him and return his calls, talk it out with him, give him a chance to be supportive over whatever had happened with her and Pastor Bob? It wasn’t like she wouldn’t have to deal with him eventually. They had a kid together, for crying out loud. A kid he took care of every weekend.
By 9:30 a.m. Saturday, when she still hadn’t called, he knew she would be showing up at ten as usual with Kira. Good. He’d have another chance to get through to her, to get her to see that they couldn’t go on like this.
He even had a plan. He’d bought WALL-E on Blu-ray. Kira loved WALL-E. He had it all loaded up and ready to go on the 65-inch flatscreen in the media room. Kira knew how to push Play. All he had to do was hand her the remote and point her toward the media room, simultaneously positioning himself between Corrie and the door.
It could work. And he was just desperate enough to get through to Corrie that he was standing in the foyer, remote in hand, when the doorbell rang at ten on the dot. Corrie had a key, just as he had one to her place, but they were both careful to respect each other’s privacy.
He pulled the door wide, ready with a big, friendly smile—a smile that never quite took form. It wasn’t Corrie who stood there with Kira.
“Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, sweetheart. Hey, Mom.”
“Matthew.” His mother put her slim hand on his shoulder and went on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.
He stepped back. As they crossed the threshold, he asked in a voice he made as casual as possible, “Where’s Corrie?”
His mother’s smile was much too sweet. “I thought she might enjoy sleeping in late. She works until all hours most nights, you know.”
“Daddy, what’s the ’mote for?”
Matt bent down to her. “Do I get a kiss?”
Kira took his face between her two soft little-girl hands and kissed him—a quick, hard press of her small lips to his. “There. What about the ’mote?”
He handed it to her. “It’s all ready in the media room. Just push Play.”
“What is it?”
“Go see.” With a happy giggle, Kira headed off down the hall. A moment later, after a childish shout of delighted surprise, the movie started. Matt stood from his crouch. “Dad mentioned you were staying at Corrie’s. He’s not real pleased about it.”
His mother’s serene expression didn’t waver. “Corrine has been lovely. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to be able to sleep through the night and not worry that I’ll wake up to find your father standing over my bed.”
Matt grunted. “Dad is persistent, if nothing else.”
“Persistent is not the word I would have used.”
“He loves you, Mom.”
“Stay out of it, Matthew.”
At that exact moment, he had a brilliant idea. “I wonder. Could you do me a favor?”
His mother frowned slightly at the sudden shift in the conversation. But she’d always been the kind of mom who was happy to help out. “Of course. What?”
He tipped his head in