Part 17 (1/2)
To preserve the untarnished image he seemed to have earned with Libby, Claire fell back on creativity. She figured a white lie was all right, as long as it was for a good cause.
”Because we're all going down to spend Christmas with his family and they have a big tree, so he thought maybe he wouldn't get one this year. Since he couldn't spend Christmas with it,” she added when Libby looked at her pensively.
”Do you think our tree'll get lonely while we're gone?”
Libby had a heart as big as all outdoors, and Claire wouldn't have had it any other way. ”Tell you what, when we get back, we'll have a little celebration for it and pretend it's Christmas all over again. The tree will never know the difference. What do you say?”
”All right!” Libby tugged on Claire's sweater. When Claire bent down, Libby pressed her lips to her cheek. ”You're the best, Mama.”
”What have I been telling you all along?” Claire laughed. She rose and saw Evan standing in the doorway. He had a strange, thoughtful expression on his face. Some-thing was wrong. ”What's the matter?”
Libby's excitement faded into the background. Claire knew he'd just taken a telephone call. They were leaving for Newport Beach early tomorrow morning-had plans been changed? Or had he changed his mind about their going with him after talking to his mother or someone else in the family?
Claire began to steel herself. Though she loved him and had agreed to marry him, Claire couldn't help keeping a little piece of herself in reserve, in case things didn't turn out the way she hoped. She was a dyed-in-the-wool optimist, but she was also a realist. Too many things had happened in her life for her not to be. The flip side of joy was sorrow.
The look on Evan's face had her bracing herself for an emotional blow. It was better to be ready than to be caught unprepared.
”That was Devin,” he told her.
Evan looked at the tree. Signs of Libby's enthusiasm were lodged on various branches in the form of clumps of silver. His brother used to throw tinsel that way, he recalled, while he had meticulously laid strands out so that they hung down to catch the light. His were more artistic, but Devin's represented more fun. That's what had been missing in his life, he thought, before Claire. Fun.
He picked up a handful and threw it, just like Libby, surprising and pleasing Claire.
”He said he's coming by in a few minutes.”
”Devin?” Claire didn't understand. ”Isn't he with the rest of your family in Newport Beach?”
”Apparently not.” He noticed there had been a strange, strained note in her voice. Evan looked at Claire and took her hand. It felt icy. The house wasn't cold. Was she getting ill again? Evan paused, trying to get his own feelings under control. ”He's finally tracked down Rachel's mother.”
The moment of respite disappeared, eaten up by concern. She couldn't read his eyes. What had Devin told him?
”Oh, G.o.d, Evan, is it bad news? Does she want Rachel back?”
Evan had been planning to file a pet.i.tion with the court to get sole legal custody of Rachel. If her mother contested, Claire knew that at the very least, things could get ugly. And they could drag out for months, maybe even years. She didn't want that for the little girl, or for Evan.
Evan picked up another handful of tinsel; then, restless, he let it drop. ”It was a bad connection. Devin said he'd tell me everything once he got here.” Meanwhile, he thought, he was waiting, poised on the edge of razor-sharp pins.
He was worried; she could see it now. Any concerns of her own were pushed to the side. Evan needed her. Her hand closed over his.
”It'll be all right, Evan. If she wants Rachel back, we'll give her one h.e.l.l of a fight,” she said fiercely. ”It's not so cut-and-dried anymore. More fathers are getting custody of their children these days, and she did abandon Rachel.”
Evan wasn't saying anything. Maybe she had misread his expression. Maybe he was wrestling with his conscience, struggling with ambivalent feelings.
Claire lowered her voice so that Libby couldn't hear. ”You do want her, don't you?”
She could ask that of him? In the beginning, sure, but now? He'd had the baby in his life just over six weeks, and it seemed like a lifetime. A frenzied, sweet lifetime. He'd dispensed with the idea of a nanny and left Rachel with Claire during the day. Every night he'd come home-not late, not with more work in his briefcase-but home to Rachel. To all of them. He couldn't picture his life the way it had once been and didn't want to.
”I want Rachel as much as I want to go on breathing.” He looked at Claire, touching her cheek. ”Almost as much as I want you.”
She came to him then, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his chest. Claire didn't want him to see the tears. Men didn't understand tears of joy. To them, tears always meant pain. If there was a pain in her heart, it was a sweet pain that she cherished.
”Well, then prepare yourself to go on breathing, Evan Quartermain, because you've got us, all of us, and we're not about to go away.” She saw Libby watching them, the display of emotion making her hesitate. Claire extended one arm toward her daughter. ”Are we, Libby?”
The little girl shook her head, then wiggled in between them to share in the hug.
The door opened on the very first ring. It was almost as if, Devin thought, his brother had stood waiting behind the door. There was apprehension in Evan's eyes, but the greeting between them was warmer than any he could recall in recent years.
And along with the concern he saw in Evan's eyes was something familiar. Something he'd seen in his own eyes in the mirror of late. Contentment.
”So how's it going?” Devin asked, taking his jacket off. Coming from the southern region of the state, he wasn't accustomed to this kind of cold weather and he hated the bulk of heavy clothing.
”You tell me.” Should he be calling his lawyer, alerting him to prepare for a fight? Evan searched his brother's face for a clue.
Devin laughed shortly, still amazed at what a small world it was at times. ”You know, it's the d.a.m.nedest thing. That case I told you I was working on?” He'd given Evan no particulars, only that he had been devoting all his time to one case. But he had promised to find a way to look for Rachel's mother even if it meant giving up sleep. For Devin, it had been tantamount to an oath sworn in blood, since sleep had always been so important to him. ”The trail wound up leading practically to your door. Next door, as a matter of fact.” He jerked his thumb toward the other house. ”Do you happen to know your neighbor?”
It was a legitimate question, Devin felt. Evan kept to himself and was, for the most part, oblivious to the people around him unless they somehow figured into his work.
Evan's eyebrows narrowed. What was Devin getting at? ”Yes, intimately. Why?”
The word intimately stood out for Devin in large, flas.h.i.+ng neon lights. So that was what was responsible for the change in his brother. My, G.o.d, he thought, truth was really stranger than fiction.
But before he had a chance to say anything further, their number increased by one.
Claire had hung back as long as decorum and patience had allowed. As well as being eager to meet his brother and see just how far the resemblance went, she was anxious to hear about Rachel's mother.
She walked in, her hand extended to Devin. ”h.e.l.lo, you must be Devin. I'm-”
”Claire Walker.” Devin stared at her in amazement. If he hadn't just spoken to her on the telephone, he would have sworn that Blair had flown up here just to play a trick on him. ”My, G.o.d, you look just like her. Exactly like her.”
”Like who?” Claire looked to Evan for an explanation, but he merely lifted his shoulders in a confused shrug. ”And how did you know my name?”
”Mama, did Evan split in half?” Libby crept hesitantly toward her mother, her eyes riveted to the man who looked just like Evan.
”No, honey, this is his twin brother, Devin,” Claire replied uncertainly. Had Evan told his brother about her? That would explain how he knew her name, but who was the ”her” he was referring to?
”I think you'd all better sit down for this,” Devin told them. He knew he needed to.
Evan had no intention of dragging this out. ”Devin, can we dispense with the dramatics and just have you tell me about Rachel's mother?”
That seemed almost like small potatoes now, although Devin knew that it meant a great deal to Evan. That in itself was a surprise. Their last conversation had been a complete reversal of the first. Rather than being eager to locate Rachel's mother so that he could give her back the baby, Evan now wanted him to make sure she was giving up all claim to the child. If anyone would have asked Devin, he would have said his brother had fallen under a spell. Now that he saw Claire, it all became clear to him.
”Everything's fine,” Devin a.s.sured him. ”She was really surprised you bothered having her traced, and even more surprised that you wanted sole custody of Rachel. But she meant what she said. She just wasn't cut out to be the mother type. She gave me all of Rachel's papers, birth certificate, record of immunizations, those kinds of things, and signed over custody to you. She just wants to have Rachel taken care of and to be free to go on with her own life.”
Devin took out a bulging envelope from his jacket pocket, handing it over to Evan. He couldn't take his eyes off Claire. There was absolutely no difference between the woman beside Evan and the one he had left behind at home.
Evan opened the envelope and read the doc.u.ment. Only then did it sink in. Relief washed over him. This was far better than he'd hoped. Rachel was his without a fight; it was legal and binding. Claire was his, and soon that would be legal and binding, as well. They'd decided on a Valentine's Day wedding. He was getting a wife and two kids-and maybe a van to use on vacations. Evan couldn't remember when he had been happier.
Putting the papers back in the envelope, he looked at his brother. He knew Claire was beautiful, but Devin was staring at her as if she were an apparition.