“Come back soon, Coach, okay?” the boy asked as Kirk dropped him off a couple of hours later. They’d shot some hoops at a nearby lighted court and Abraham seemed more relaxed.
“Of course.”
“I mean it,” Abraham said. He had the door open, but wasn’t getting out. There were no lights on in the house, which must have meant the Mortons hadn’t returned yet. Kirk didn’t understand how it was good for Abraham to be alone at night in a strange house. “Promise you’ll be back soon.”
“I promise.” Kirk gave him the only answer he could. He was coming back, anyway, but as he drove away, he mentally added an extra day a week to the schedule he’d set himself for Billings visits. Apparently spending time with Kirk was the only thing the kid had to hold on to.
AT HOME THAT NIGHT, restless, Kirk thought again about calling Valerie. Maybe she’d finished her chores and they could go for a short walk. Just long enough for him to figure out what was wrong with her. And to share his good news. He got a thrill of anticipation every time he thought about the upcoming days and everything they might bring. Tomorrow, even though it was only a day before the regular floral delivery, he’d take roses to Alicia.
In an effort to focus his energies, he wandered into his dining room, and the projects in various stages waiting for him there. An hour later, consumed by the challenges before him, Kirk caught a glimpse of himself and jumped up from the table, turned off the light and left the room. He was enjoying the work too much.
And it was too late to call Valerie.
He poured a glass of scotch and went out to sit by the pool.
To think about all the things he’d do with his son.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
THURSDAY MORNING, after dropping off the boys, Valerie went in for her appointment with Steve McDonald. Walking quickly, head down, she prayed she could avoid Kirk Chandler. She just wasn’t ready to see him yet. Couldn’t trust herself to behave appropriately. Partially because she had no idea what that actually entailed.
Screaming at him wasn’t something she’d be proud of—but it would sure as hell feel good. Crying was out of the question, but that was what she was afraid she might do. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so emotionally fragile.
At least with Thomas, there’d been no illusions of love and support. She’d thought she’d missed those things before, but only now realized that she couldn’t miss what she hadn’t had. Realized it now that she’d had it—for a few brief, wonderful moments. And missed it already.
“So you see, Mr. McDonald, it’s important to the boys that they continue through school together….”
In her navy silk suit, her two-inch heels tucked beneath her, Valerie sat before the principal’s desk, eager to be done with this business and get off the school grounds.
She had no idea why Steve McDonald was shaking his head. “We—their counselors and I—don’t think that’s a good idea, Ms. Simms. Your boys are unusually close, even for twins, and while there are some obvious benefits to that, their closeness also comes with a price. One that can be much higher than you think. The damage such intense interdependence can cause is often greater than the benefits.”
What was the man talking about? “Twins share a spiritual connection,” she told him. “It’s perfectly natural.” What kind of counselors did Menlo Ranch employ that they hadn’t known something so obvious?
“And being in separate classrooms isn’t going to change that,” McDonald said, sounding far too much like Kirk Chandler for her peace of mind. “Their identities will have to separate at some point,” he said, his hands folded on the desk in front of him. “Unless they marry two women who are willing to live together in the same house and raise their children together, unless they get the same jobs with the same company, it’s going to happen.”
Of course it would. When they were grown up and—
“Studies show that when the separation comes at an earlier age, twins are far more successful in life and in their relationships.”
She opened her mouth, ready to argue her next point, and closed it again. This was déjà vu to an uncomfortable degree. She’d fought Kirk on this very same score. And lost. But Brian had won.
Was it possible that Steve McDonald, like Kirk, could see her boys more clearly than she could?
“Will you at least promise me one thing?” she asked, relaxing back against the seat, her purse in her lap.
“What’s that?” The sandy-haired man half squinted at her.
“If the boys aren’t thriving after a semester apart, if either of them has a recurrence of the physical problems we’ve struggled with this year, you’ll agree to put them back together.”
With one dip of his chin to his chest, McDonald looked at her and smiled. “You’ve got my word on it.”
With that, she’d find a way to be satisfied. She’d worry. But she’d be satisfied.
“I hear both of your sons did quite well on the basketball team this year,” McDonald said when she rose to leave.
“They did okay,” Valerie told him with a smile. “The games sure were fun to watch.”
“Yeah, Menlo Ranch has never even come close to the play-offs before. Kirk Chandler did a great job with them. Not that I’m surprised.” He followed her to the closed office door. “He’s always had the gift of turning whatever he touches into a success.”