A Mother's Secret by Janice Kay Johnson Read Free Book Online Page B

am.”
    The soft menace in his voice made her shiver.
    “Fortunately for my son, I can pretend to like you for his sake.” He raked her with one scathing look, then turned and walked out.
    Rebecca was left standing in her living room, flushed with humiliation and anger. And dread.
     

    “M OM SAYS YOU USED TO BE friends. Like me and Jenna.” While his mom set his booster seat in the back of Daniel’s car, Malcolm scrutinized Daniel. “So how come I never met you?”
    Could he succeed in convincing anyone, even a kid, that the two of them were friends? Daniel wondered. Three days later, he was still furious that she had intended to let his son grow up thinking his dad didn’t care, condemning the boy to the sense of inadequacy that had haunted Daniel for a lifetime.
    She had one hell of a lot of excuses, but what it came down to was she didn’t want to share.
    No, he wouldn’t be getting over this anger soon, but he had to hide it. Pretend, for Malcolm’s sake.
    “I didn’t know your mom still lived around here,” he said in an easy tone. “Not until that day I ran into you at the restaurant.”
    “You didn’t run into us. You just saw us,” the boy corrected him.
    “That’s a figure of speech,” Rebecca said. “Come on. Hop in.”
    He grinned at her and, keeping both feet together, hopped to the car. “Like a rabbit. Huh, Mom?”
    “That was another figure of speech.”
    Daniel couldn’t imagine that any four-year-old knew what a figure of speech was. Many adults probably didn’t. After all, what did a “figure” have to do with anything?
    Rebecca had to lift Malcolm into his car seat, since he persisted in trying to jump instead of climbing in.
    She closed the car door, obviously flustered. “I’m sorry. He’s in a phase.”
    “A literal one?”
    “Uh…you could say that.”
    He would have smiled if he hadn’t been so tense. It had occurred to him, in the past twenty-four hours, that becoming known and trustworthy to his son might require skills he didn’t possess. He saw kids squalling in the grocery store when their moms refused to buy the sugary cereal they wanted. Toddlers playing at the park where he ran. That was as close as he’d wanted to get. Outside of the sixteen-year-olds who worked the drive-through at fast-food joints, Kaitlin was the only child with whom he’d actually held a conversation. But Kaitlin was different. He’d been part of her life since she was born.
    Charming this particular four-year-old might be a challenge. What made the attempt even more uncomfortable was having to do it under the critical eye of the boy’s mother.
    Realizing that she’d been worrying in turn that he might critique Malcolm’s behavior and thus her parenting skills loosened that tension a little.
    They got in the car and he backed out of the driveway.
    “You didn’t put on your seat belt,” the boy piped up. “Don’t you wear your seat belt? Mom, how come that man didn’t put on his seat belt the way he’s supposed to?”
    Hastily, Daniel buckled it. “Sometimes I fasten it once I’ve started driving. But that’s a bad habit.”
    “Mom always checks to be sure everyone in the car has their seat belt on before she starts the car. Don’t you, Mom?”
    She smiled brightly over her shoulder, although he glimpsed the whites of her eyes. “I’m sure Daniel usually wears his, Malcolm. And this is his car, so he doesn’t have to follow my rules.”
    Daniel was beginning to enjoy himself. The pretense was her idea, and she was suffering way more than he was.
    “Do you make everyone wear their seat belts, too, Mr. Daniel?” the boy persisted. “Or do you have a different rule?”
    “You don’t have to call me mister,” he began. “Just Daniel is fine.”
    “But Mom makes me call grown-ups mister or missus. ’Cept for Aunt Nomi. She’s not really my aunt,” he confided. “But she’s kinda like my aunt.”
    The kid didn’t have a shy bone in his body, Daniel realized,