"Short-term placements. And all the textbook training in the world can't teach me how to deal with this for real. She's counting on me, for so much more than food and a temporary place to sleep." A gust ruffled the sheers on the French doors, swirling the room with hints of ocean and marsh. Warmth and hints of bay rum waited an arm's reach away. "What if I screw up? The stakes are so high here, and I'm all she has."
"Parents make mistakes, Lori, but you've already got the tough parts figured out. Some people are just born to be parents."
"And some aren't?"
"Some aren't."
Frustration edged away wiser constraints on her mouth. "Why, Gray?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lori—"
She forged ahead, in spite of him, maybe to spite him for once. "Why do you think you're not meant to be a father?"
Finally she dared to ask the question that had tormented her for over a year. Of course, now she no longer wanted to know for herself, but some lucky child deserved this man as a father. She didn't linger overlong on the thought of the woman who might give him that child. "You're great with kids. Look at how you deal with Magda. And I've heard you talk about your nieces and nephews. You obviously adore them."
"That's different."
"Because they don't come with a wife?"
"Partly." He met her gaze dead-on, honest as he'd always been, even when it hurt.
Lori swept aside the shards of pain his single word had sprinkled over her and hated that he still had the power to wound her.
So he didn't want a wife.
Not that she wanted the position. She needed a man who wasn't afraid of commitment, a steady man who wanted to put down roots and build a life rather than play games and sing Karaoke until the end of time.
But how she would miss his smiles.
Why couldn't she have smiles and constancy wrapped up in a package that sent her heart stuttering like it did with a simple look from Gray? "So you're just a confirmed bachelor who plans to shower Barbie dolls and Tonka toys on other people's kids for the rest of his life."
"It's better that way."
"Why?" she demanded, confused, angry and more curious than she wanted to be.
He twined a length of her hair around his fingers, linked to her but not touching. Gray stared at the simple lock as if it might hold the answer. Slowly he released it, one strand at a time. "Why do you want to know? It won't accomplish anything."
Good question. She struggled for an answer. "Aren't we both trying to find a way to say goodbye to each other? You talk about helping me with Magda, but I think there's more to it than that." His eyes darted away from hers, confirming her suspicions. She stilled the unproductive disappointment and charged ahead. "Is that what this is all about? Putting the past to rest for good?"
"Seems like you know me pretty well after all. Maybe you can tell me why I don't plan to get married."
"Ever? Not to anyone?"
"Ever."
All confusion about the two of them aside, she couldn't help but ache at the thought of Gray spending the rest of his life alone. "If I knew the answer, Gray, we wouldn't be sitting here right now."
Would he respond? While always truthful when he spoke, he sometimes opted for silence or covered the moment with a laugh and a smile. Would this be one of those times? A lone car drove past, and she almost gave up. What difference would it make, anyway?
Gray scratched a hand over his heavy, five-o'clock shadow. Lori prepared herself for his lighthearted quip.
Not a smile in sight, he said, "My dad."
Confusion muddled her tired brain. "Your father?"
"My father was a POW in 'Nam."
"Oh, Gray, how awful." She had to touch him. Taboos be damned, she couldn't let such a revelation go past without contact and comfort. Lori laid her hand over his on the floor. Gray twitched, but didn't pull away.