melanoma." He turned to stare out the window.
Veronica studied his rigid back. His brief words raised more questions than they answered.
"The letters—" she broke off, heat scalding her face.
"I can write." The quiet words added another layer to her mortification.
It was Leon, not Julia, who sent me those yearly updates on Jordan?
"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a suffocated whisper clenching her hand so hard, the nails bit into her palm.
"Give me one reason to believe you would be interested? One reason I could believe."
Offended heat flooded her cheeks but she subdued an impetuous retort. Far less easy to subdue was the recognition of Julia's manipulation.
Now, with the perspective of time and distance, Veronica could see how Julia had used her own infertility to apply subtle, unrelenting pressure on her teenaged houseguest. Julia never missed an opportunity to reinforce her ability to provide a new-born baby with every advantage, at the same time skilfully undermining the teen's confidence that she could nurture her baby.
Nausea churned in her belly. Why had Leon remained impervious to his wife's manipulation? The answer to that question stood watching her now, through narrowed eyelids.
Leon wanted my baby, too.
A nurse entered the room with a tea tray and broke the escalating tension.
"Put it on the table," Leon said tersely. "Ricki can pour."
The nurse did as instructed then smiled coyly at Leon. "Is there anything else you require?"
With cynical detachment, Veronica watched another female fall victim to the Karvasis charisma.
"No, thank you"
After one more envious glance, the nurse left, leaving a tense, brittle silence.
"I'm sure you remember how I have my tea," Leon drawled.
For a moment she was tempted to tell him to pour his own when his wry amusement registered. He was not responsible for fluttering female hearts.
She poured his tea, weak, black with one spoon of sugar and a few drops of lemon juice. Leon made no apology for eschewing the more macho brew of strong, black coffee.
He leaned over and took his cup. "Quite like old times."
She was deeply distrusting of his bland expression.
"It's nothing like old times," she said tartly, needing to quash any sense of closeness. Being with him stirred too many painful memories.
"I guess not. That Ricki was more than an icy shell."
What had he expected? The same naive teenager caught in an untenable situation? "That Ricki was a gullible child. And like all foolish children, Leon, she grew up."
"Into Veronica?"
"It was more than time." She winced at the mocking inflection he gave her name.
"Perhaps, we'll see."
The cryptic comment unsettled her and covertly observing him, she noted his worried weariness. Her anger ebbed. "How is Jordan?"
"He's no better, and perhaps more fortunately, no worse." He raised bleak eyes. "Would you please visit with him?"
"No." Her denial was shockingly loud.
"Why not?" He caught her wrist, preventing her rising from her chair. "Was all that angst just an illusion?"
Her eyes skimmed his austere features, before dropping to her wrist. His dark skin contrasted starkly with her paler tones. Sensation burned at her defences.
"Three days ago, your anguish would melt a heart of stone. Now you won't walk a few hundred yards to visit your son. Why?"
For mind-numbing moments, she just stared at him. Couldn't he grasp that to see Jordan once would never be enough?
It was that simple and that difficult.
"Jordan's not my son, Leon." She managed to smile. "He's your son. Legally, emotionally, and by virtue of parental involvement."
The admission lay between them, a bald statement of fact.
"You gave him to us, of your own free will." Leon held her impaled on an unrelenting grey gaze.
"Yes." The admission hurt as much as a stake driven into her heart.
I did give Julia my baby. And within the protective circle of Leon's arm, she never once glanced up from looking at