Look Again Part 24

"Mommy!" Will shouted, leaving his Legos and running to meet Ellen just as she closed the front door against the cold.

"Honey!" she called back, hoisting him up and hugging him close, ambushed by a fierce rush of emotion. She kissed him on the cheek and tried to pretend this was a homecoming like any other.

"I'm making a castle! A big castle!" Will kicked to be let down.

"Good for you." Ellen set him on the ground with his feet still kicking, and he hit the hardwood floor like a windup toy. He ran back to his Legos, hit the rug, and sprawled on his tummy in his overalls. Ellen wished she could take a mental snapshot and keep it forever.

"Welcome home!" Connie smiled, wiping her hands on a dishcloth as she came into the living room. "You made it early, huh?"

"Got it all done early." Ellen slid out of her coat, shaking off the unaccustomed cold, and felt happier than ever to be home. Oreo Figaro looked up from the back of the sofa, where he sat with his front paws neatly underneath him. The living room smelled deliciously of hot coffee and chicken with rosemary. "Connie, am I dreaming or is that dinner?"

"It'll be ready in ten minutes, and Will took a good nap, so he's up and at 'em." Connie met her eye meaningfully, and Ellen impulsively grabbed her and gave her a huge hug.

"Will you marry me?"

"Anytime," Connie answered, releasing her with a grin, then she went to the closet, got her coat, and put it on. Her overnight bag, purse, and tote sat packed on the windowseat. "You got a sunburn, eh?"

"I know." Ellen's hand went to the tip of her nose. It would be hard to explain at work tomorrow. Then again, everything would be hard to explain at work tomorrow.

"One last thing." Connie picked up her bags, and her smile vanished. "I'm sorry about the phone business. Hope I didn't get you in too much trouble."

"Don't worry, I can deal with it," Ellen said, though she didn't know how. "You took great care of him, and that's what matters."

"Thanks." Connie turned to Will. "See you later, alligator!"

"In a while, crocodile," Will called over his shoulder, playing happily on the floor, his world order restored.

"See you!" Connie let herself out, and Ellen went over and touched Will's hair. The dark blond filaments felt soft under her fingertips, and she tried not to notice his hair color was almost the same as Carol's.

"Please say thank you to Connie."

"Thank you, Connie!" Will scrambled to a standing position, then ran over and hugged his babysitter, and Ellen could see how happy it made her. She didn't want to think about how Connie would react if Will turned out to be Timothy. She put it out of her mind as she let Connie out the door, then kicked off her clogs and got down on the rug to play with Will.

She still had one DNA sample to collect, but she could do that after the Lego castle.

Chapter Sixty.

Ellen scanned the directions for the DNA sample while Will stood at the kitchen sink and rinsed his mouth with warm water, his small fingers wrapped like a gecko's around the gla.s.s tumbler. Though she had to use the nonstandard test for Carol and Bill, she was collecting Will's sample by the conventional method, and she had to get it tonight because all the samples had to be sent to the laboratory together.

"Spit, Mommy?" Will asked, his eyes trustful over the rim of the gla.s.s.

"Two more times, pal."

Will took a second gulp of water and spit it into the sink. "Is this good?"

"Yes, and we have to do one more thing."

"Okay." Will took his third gulp, letting the water dribble out of his mouth and down his chin for fun.

"Good, thanks." Ellen wiped his wet grin with a napkin, then took the gla.s.s from his hand, set it on the counter, and turned to face him, placing a hand on his little shoulder. "Now open up, sweetie, just like you do for the doctor."

"Is it gonna hurt?"

"No, not at all." Ellen took the Q-tip in hand. "I'm going to rub the inside of your cheek with a Q-tip, that's all. It's the same kind of Q-tip we use to clean your ears."

"Are you cleaning my mouth?"

"Yes." Sort of Sort of.

"Why is my mouth dirty? I brushed my teeth this morning."

"Ready to open up?"

Will opened his mouth like a baby bird, and Ellen rolled the swab on the insides of both of his cheeks for about a minute, making sure to cover most of his inner cheek. Then she withdrew the swab and set it on a folded piece of paper to dry, according to the instructions.

"Good job, sweetie."

Will began jumping up and down.

"We just need one more, okay?"

"Why?" Will opened his mouth again, and Ellen picked up another Q-tip and swabbed the inside of his cheek.

"Just to be sure. All finished. Great job."

"Now can we have dessert?"

"We sure can."

Anything but lime Jell-O.

Chapter Sixty-one.

Ellen had just stepped out of the shower when her cell phone started ringing. She ran into her bedroom, picked up her BlackBerry, and checked the display screen. It was a 215 area code, a Philly phone number she didn't know. She pressed Answer.

"h.e.l.lo?" It was Marcelo, and Ellen warmed to the sound, sinking onto her bed and drawing her pink chenille robe closer around her.

"Hey, hi."

"I got your message. Sorry I couldn't get back to you until now. Are you at home?"

"Yes, I'll be back to work tomorrow, like I said. If you're free, we can meet in the morning and talk over this thing with Sarah."

"I don't think it can wait. I'd like to come over tonight, if I may."

Wow. Ellen checked her watch-9:08. Will was in bed, fast asleep. "Sure."

"It's not a social call," Marcelo added, and she felt herself flush.

"Understood ..."

"I'm on my way. I'll be there in half an hour."

"Great," Ellen said, and as soon as they hung up, she bolted to the closet. She changed her clothes four times, ending up with a light blue V-neck and jeans, but instead of a tank top underneath, she went with a lace-topped ivory camisole.

Though her underwear was the last thing on her mind.

Chapter Sixty-two.

By the time Marcelo knocked on the door, Ellen's hair had dried loose and curly to her shoulders and she had doused herself with perfume, made up her eyes, and patted concealer on her telltale sunburn.

"h.e.l.lo," Marcelo said, unsmiling as he came inside.

"Good to see you." Ellen knew she couldn't kiss him h.e.l.lo, but she didn't want to shake his hand, so she settled for closing the door behind him. "Can I take your coat?"

"That's okay, I won't be staying long."

Ouch. "Would you like a drink or something?"

"No, thanks."

"Do you want to sit down?"

"Thanks." Marcelo crossed to the couch and sat stiffly down, and Ellen took the chair catty-corner to him. He said, "I thought it would be better to talk here than in the office, since we're conspiring."

"I'm really sorry about what happened."

"I know." Marcelo looked tense, a new tightness around his mouth. "I've been struggling with what to do, how to handle the situation." He linked his fingers between his legs, leaning forward slightly. "To start with, I shouldn't have done what I did ... started anything romantic with you. It was wrong, and I'm sorry."

Ellen swallowed, hurt. "You don't have to say you're sorry, and it wasn't so terrible."

"It was, especially considering how it turned out."

"But we can set it right."

"No, we can't."

Ellen felt like they were having a lovers' quarrel, and they weren't even lovers.

"I'm your editor, and there's no way we can be together, in the end."

"But we just started." Ellen was surprised at the emotion in her voice. "Other couples at the paper date."

"Not editor and staffer. Not a direct report." Marcelo shook his head, downcast. "Anyway, to the point. I lied to my staff. I've never lied to my staff, ever. I showed you a favoritism I wouldn't have shown anyone else, and I did it because I care for you." His voice softened, but his gaze remained firm. "But now I know what to do."

"I do, too." Ellen had thought about it on the plane, but Marcelo held up his hand.

"Let me, please. That's why I came here tonight. I don't want you to come in to work tomorrow morning."

No. "Why not?"

"I'm going to hold a meeting of the staff and I don't think you should be there. I'm going to tell them what happened. Not about my ... feelings, I'm not that crazy." Marcelo smiled. "I'm going to tell them that I lied about your whereabouts because you had a personal matter that you didn't want me or them to know about, and I thought it was the best way to handle the situation."

"You're going to tell the truth?"

Marcelo chuckled. "It's not that crazy. We're a newspaper. We care for truth."

"But not now, not this way." Ellen couldn't let him do it. It was career suicide.

"I'm going to apologize and say that I realize, in retrospect, that it was poor judgment on my part."

"You can't do that, Marcelo." Ellen didn't know where to begin. "It undermines your credibility forever. They're already talking about you, and this will only add fuel to the fire. You'll never live it down."

"Reporters are intelligent and verbal people. They talk, they speculate, and they gossip. There's nothing to be done about it."

Ellen leaned forward, urgent. "That's not the way to handle this. One of us has to admit that they were lying, and that person can't be you."

"If I tell the truth, it will pa.s.s."

"No, it will follow you forever. I can't let you do it."

"You have no say," Marcelo said with a sad smile, and Ellen realized that if he wouldn't do it for him, maybe he'd do it for her.

"You'd hurt me more if you did that. They'll think we're sleeping together, and I'll be branded forever. It's better for me if you suspend me for lying to you."

"You want want that?" Marcelo frowned. that?" Marcelo frowned.

"It's the only way. If you suspend me, I look like just another employee who lied to the boss. Everybody lies to the boss."

"They do?" Marcelo looked horrified, which Ellen thought was adorable.