“When I broke up with you, you were glad?”
“Not glad, but relieved because I felt disloyal to my father’s memory every time I thought about quitting.”
“Because of what happened to him? His death wasn’t your fault, Daniel.”
“No, but for twenty-five years I’ve blamed myself, and my mother let me.”
“Leona? I don’t understand.”
“She and I had quite a discussion last weekend after I took Ryan to meet her.”
“Ryan met Leona?” Kimberly swayed. She only kept from sagging onto the sofa behind her because Daniel’s hands grabbed her arms and held her.
“Yes. She was shocked to see him walk into her house.” The warmth of his hands burned through her pajama top, searing her arms. “But not as shocked as she should have been.”
Thoughts of Leona meeting Ryan caused Kimberly to wince. Poor Ryan. Though he must have done fine, she wanted to rush the stairs and take him in her arms, demand to know what Leona had said to him, if she’d been cruel or hateful.
“She told me everything.”
Once again Kimberly wobbled. “Everything?”
A sick look crossing his face, Daniel nodded. “She admitted she tried to convince you to have an abortion and she’s struggled with her conscience ever since. She thought you had done so until she read your mother’s obituary.”
Kimberly tried to digest what Daniel was saying. Leona regretted the things she’d said that afternoon?
“Daniel, I never considered abortion as an option for our baby.”
“Thank God,” he said emphatically. “I want to be angry at her for her role in this, just as I’d wanted to hang on to my anger at you.” He brushed his palms down her arms in a slow caress and linked their fingers. “Blaming everyone else is easier than taking the blame myself, but I’d already realized my guilt. No matter what my mother had said or done, if I’d fought for you, Ryan would have grown up with a mother and a father.”
Daniel was taking the blame?
Staring at their twined hands and wondering at the meaning of his embrace, Kimberly tried to digest all the things Daniel had said. “Your mother accepted Ryan as your son?”
“How could she not?” Daniel’s gaze landed on a framed photo of Ryan on the coffee table beside them. “Like you once said, he’s my image.”
There was no denying Ryan’s genetic heritage.
“I’d agree to a paternity test, if you want one.”
“There’s no need.” He shook his head. “I never doubted you, but if I had, from the moment I first spoke with him I knew he was mine.”
Kimberly’s heart constricted at the possessiveness in Daniel’s voice.
“When I met him last Friday…” He paused, his voice choked with emotion. “My whole life had been leading up to that moment.”
Kimberly nodded, recalling how she’d felt the first time she’d held her newborn son in her arms, looked into his face and known he was her greatest accomplishment. She still got that feeling when looking at Ryan.
“For the record, Mom accepted Ryan as mine from the moment she read the obituary and saw you had a son.”
“What do you mean?”
“After Ryan went to bed—we stayed at her place on Friday night—she pulled out an album full of clippings about Ryan. She said she even got the nerve to go to one of his games this fall. After the game was when she started pushing for me to move home.”
“Because she wanted to tell you about Ryan?”
“No, she didn’t have the nerve because she blamed herself for me not knowing about Ryan. She blamed herself for you dumping me and keeping Ryan from me. I’m all she has left and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing me over her mistake, so she kept quiet, hoping I’d move back and somehow discover my son.”
The weight of what Leona must have gone through crushed any remaining negative feelings Kimberly had toward Daniel’s mother. If only Leona had come to her, she would have welcomed her into Ryan’s life. After all, Ryan hadn’t any other grandparents.