Mad About You

used to be easygoing and spontaneous—now you want every detail planned out. What's happened to you?"
    His words stung, but she wasn't about to let him know. "What happened to me? I grew up, Bailey, which is something you might think about doing someday. Living life shooting from the hip is amusing for a man in his twenties, but not very flattering for a man in his thirties."
    As she watched raw emotion play across his handsome face, Virginia almost felt sorry for her ex-husband. But she knew him, and knew that he had to be forced to face the truth. It was too late for them, but he needed to extend himself beyond his hedonistic lifestyle for their son.
    Bailey dropped his eyes and swished a stirrer in the whiskey sour he cradled in one hand. "I guess I deserve that," he said, his voice resigned. Then he set his drink down and twisted in his seat to face her. "But, Ginny, you have to believe me when I say I'm going to settle down and be a good father to Bailey, Jr. I want to be there for him." He gave her a sad smile. "I want to be there for you too, but I understand how you feel about me."
    Her stomach pivoted again, but this time it had nothing to do with the altitude or her anxiety over meeting her son.
    "Could you put up with me being around long enough to allow our son to adjust?"
    Warning bells screamed in Virginia's head. Spending time with Bailey sounded too much like playing house. He might charm her into letting her guard down long enough for him to get his hooks into her heart again.
    "Only," she said in a threatening tone, "if you give me your word we can be adult about this and keep things on a strictly platonic level."
    He laid a hand over his heart. "I give you my word."
    But Virginia's chest tightened in dreaded premonition. When had Bailey Kallihan ever lived up to his word?

    * * *

    As soon as he stepped into the gate area, Bailey spotted a small but conspicuous group of police officers and other official-looking people. Detective Lance took the lead, first introducing himself to a fellow officer, then presenting Virginia, Bailey, and her parents.
    A kindly gentleman in a maroon jacket clasped Ginny's hand warmly, his eyes shining. "I'm Kendall Maybry, from the children's services bureau. It's a real pleasure, Mrs. Kallihan," he said. The title sent a tiny shock wave through Bailey, and he was remotely pleased that Ginny didn't correct the error.
    After a few minutes of awkward pleasantries, Bailey asked, "Mr. Maybry, where is our son?" He knew he was probably breaking protocol, but he wasn't sure if protocol existed for such a situation.
    "He's been living at a children's shelter since the death of his mo—" The man broke off, embarrassed, and offered Ginny an apologetic smile. "I mean, since the death of the woman who... took care of him. This is Ms. Andrews—she's been counseling Chad through this ordeal."
    "Chad?" he and Ginny asked in unison.
    "The boy goes by the name Chad Green," Ms. Andrews said, shaking their hands in turn.
    The news hit Bailey like a knee to his stomach. Of course the woman who'd kidnapped him hadn't known the child's real name, and wouldn't have used it if she had. The one link he had with his son had been stripped away.
    "Are you the one who told him about us, Ms. Andrews?" Ginny asked, gripping her purse tighter and tighter. Bailey's heart constricted at her pinched, expectant expression.
    "Yes."
    "What was his reaction?"
    Ms. Andrews hesitated only a few seconds, but long enough for dread to wash over Bailey. "Well... as you can imagine, it was quite a shock for him, but we can talk about it on the way to the shelter. Shall we?" She swept her arm toward an exit, and the group moved forward as a unit.
    Minutes later Bailey helped Ginny climb into a minivan with Mr. Maybry, Ms. Andrews, and Ginny's parents. He settled into the space beside Ginny, experiencing a twinge of pleasure at the sensation of her leg pressed against the length of his. Seeking diversion from the sudden rush, he blurted out, "Tell us what's going on with our son. Is he okay?"
    The counselor turned in her seat to face them. "Physically, he's fine, just an ordinary, healthy eight-year-old."
    Bailey felt a small amount of relief.
    "But," the woman continued, "he's understandably upset about leaving the area he grew up in to live with parents who are strangers to him."
    "The woman who"—Ginny swallowed audibly—"who took our son—Detective Lance told me she didn't mistreat him. Is that true?"
    The