Father Of The Brat. Elizabeth BevarlyЧитать онлайн книгу.
shorter than the waist-length tresses she had sported twenty years ago. The glasses she wore now weren’t so very different from those she had worn throughout high school, but these days they were considered fashionable instead of geeky.
Although she had been a little on the pudgy side as a teenager, she reminded herself. And she had shed all her surplus weight and more while going through her divorce five years ago. She was quite a bit thinner now than she had been as an adolescent—really too thin, she knew—something that made her eyes seem larger and her lips fuller than they had been before, something that more clearly defined what had turned out to be surprisingly stark cheekbones. Maybe that was why Carver hadn’t recognized her, she thought.
Or maybe he hadn’t recognized her, she pondered further, because she simply wasn’t anything at all like the kid he’d known at Strickler High School. Maddy leaned her head back against the seat and inhaled an unsteady breath. Boy, would Carver laugh hysterically if he only knew how right he’d been about so many things.
She turned the key in the ignition and waited for a moment while her little car sputtered to life. It groaned and grated and finally choked itself into gear, and Maddy drove forward with no particular destination in mind.
She had thirty-two cases assigned to her at the moment, not one of which showed any promise of turning out well. When the Rachel Stillman file had landed on her desk, she had at first embraced high hopes for it. Only when she’d realized the man she would be informing of Rachel’s existence was Carver Venner had she tried to get someone else to take the case. She’d pleaded with Vivian and Mohammed to pay back favors they owed her, and had even tried to bribe Eric. But, like she, everyone else at Welfare was overburdened with casework as it was. As usual, no one had the time.
Maddy caught sight of a fast-food chain up ahead and flipped on her right turn signal to make a quick stop at the drive-thru. When she exited with a greasy cheeseburger and fries and diet soda in hand, however, she suddenly lost her appetite. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually been hungry. Funny, at one time food had been her greatest comforter. Nowadays, even the most decadent confection in the world couldn’t ease the feelings of hopelessness that wanted to drag her down.
She pulled into the parking lot of a downtown Philly church and reached into the glove compartment for her map. Another new case, she thought as she flipped through her binder looking for the name of the family in question. Another lost cause.
She suddenly felt overwhelmed, a feeling she had to battle every minute of the day lately. It was all Carver’s fault, she thought. Seeing him again had made her ache for a time in her life when things had been so much simpler, so much happier.
“God, Maddy,” she scolded herself as she finally located the file she’d been seeking. Immediately she ignored it and stared blindly out the window at the passing traffic instead. “If you’re thinking of high school as a simpler, happier time, you’re definitely getting maudlin in your old age. Not to mention delusional.”
Her years at Strickler High School had been neither particularly simple, nor especially happy. The only child of parents who had adored her to the point of sheltering her from everything that might make her unhappy, Maddy Saunders had been the nerdy kid who wore the wrong clothes, listened to the wrong music and read way too many books. She’d been the brainy girl with big glasses, the only one in Chemistry who’d thought logarithms were a piece of cake, the only one in English who’d thought Lysistrata was hilarious.
She’d always been the nice kid. The other students, when they’d bothered to think of her at all, had referred to her as “Goody.” As in “Goody Two-shoes,” as in “Good God, she’s so naive.” The nickname hadn’t bothered Maddy, though. She’d considered it a compliment. Because back then, it had been true. She’d been a good girl with a good mind, good manners and a good heart. And twenty years ago, she’d also been something else she wasn’t anymore and would never be again—an optimist. She had always been certain that the world was, in essence, a good place, a place where she could make a difference.
Boy, what a laugh that was, she thought now. Had she ever been that innocent? That naive? That stupid? Everyone else at Strickler High had seemed to think so. Especially Carver Venner. But Carver had differed from the other kids in one respect: where the others had pretty much overlooked and dismissed her, he’d seemed to single her out on a regular basis. He’d teased her relentlessly, infuriated her daily, and generally made a mockery of her decency.
And then there was that episode during the senior play, that kiss behind the cave scenery during Act One of Macbeth. Even if it had been brief and passionless, and even if he had only meant it as something else to make her crazy, Carver’s kiss had been the first one Maddy had ever received from a boy. As maddening as Carver Venner had been, she’d never been able to forget him because of that.
And now, dammit, he had to come barreling back into her life. When she least expected it, when she was ill-equipped to handle it.
She closed her eyes and remembered again the way he had looked when he’d thrown open his front door. Half naked, with his dark hair falling over his forehead and his unshaven jaw set in exasperation, he’d looked like some brooding gothic hero. So incredibly masculine. An odd thrill of excitement had wound through Maddy unlike anything she’d ever felt. He’d been a wiry kid back in high school, she remembered. Now he was solid rock.
The moment she’d seen him, she’d been nearly overcome by an inexplicable urge to lean against him and feel his arms around her. For some reason she still couldn’t figure out, she had wanted to bury her face in his neck and inhale great gulps of him. She’d wanted him to make her feel as strong as he looked. Instead, she hadn’t even let him know who she was. Because that would have been a foolish thing to do. That would have made him remember too many things, too.
After her divorce, Maddy had only kept her married name because it would have been too inconvenient and timeconsuming to change it back to Saunders. She’d never thought she would have a reason to be thankful she’d kept Dennis Garrett’s name, especially since she hadn’t been able to keep Dennis. But because she was no longer Maddy Saunders—neither literally not figuratively—there was absolutely no reason for Carver Venner to find out who he was actually dealing with. Her time with him and his daughter would be minimal, then she could slip discreetly out of their lives without a backward glance never to see Carver again.
How very like him to have fathered a child without even knowing it, she thought.
Pushing the memory of Carver away, Madelaine Garrett blew an errant strand of hair out of her eyes, found the street she’d been looking for on the map and lurched her little car back into gear. She didn’t have to think about him any more today, she told herself. Tomorrow would be soon enough.
And suddenly, for no good reason she could name—and for the first time in years—Madelaine Garrett was actually looking forward to the following day.
Carver arrived at the airport even earlier than he’d been instructed, but not because he was excited about seeing this kid that the state of Pennsylvania insisted was his daughter. Simply put, he was quite certain she wasn’t. He couldn’t imagine why Abby Stillman would have tagged him for paternity, but he was convinced there was no way he could be responsible for some kid who’d been running around L.A. for twelve years. The idea that he had been a father for that long—or for any amount of time—without even knowing it was simply too troubling for Carver to consider.
Unfortunately for him, however, according to his lawyer, he was indeed going to have to prove his conviction in a court of law. Still, she’d told him it shouldn’t be such a difficult thing to do—a simple DNA test would give the needed evidence. It was only a matter of time before this whole mess was cleared up.
In the meantime, however, Carver had to play by the rules of the Child Welfare Office. Yet even his legal obligation wasn’t the real reason he had come to the airport today. No, if