Sucking in air, he let it out again. “I can’t,” he said, feeling the weight of the tumbler in his hand.
“Calhoun and Sons. That’s always been a dream of mine.” Big Luke looked up from swirling his drink. “I thought that was something we shared.”
Lucky set his drink down on the desk. There’d be no celebrating today. “And I thought I’d made it clear that first day—I’m not here to stay.” The words came out harsher than he’d intended.
The baby was due in less than a month.
And he’d be all out of excuses to stick around.
Even if Cait asked him to stay, she wasn’t likely to acknowledge him as her baby’s father. He might have access to her bed, but when she closed her eyes he had no illusions about who she was making love to.
Luke would always come between them.
Lucky had set out to do something right and he’d turned it into something very wrong. Everything he wanted was right here in his grasp. Cait, the baby, the business. If he could live with the fact that he didn’t deserve it and the only reason he had it was that Luke was dead.
Big Luke cleared his throat. “Is this about that sign?” he asked, misinterpreting Lucky’s silence. He put down his own glass. “Yes, I should have put up Sons so none of you boys felt slighted. But Bruce and Luke weren’t the ones turning eighteen that year.”
Lucky’s throat burned—without the help of alcohol. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When you were four, I divorced your mother. I didn’t disown you or your brother. When you were eight, my brother started sleeping with my ex-wife. Yes, I was the one who’d had the affair with my secretary. She got pregnant. I got a divorce and married her, but only because your mother wouldn’t have me back. I don’t blame Evelyn for that. And I don’t blame her for marrying a better man, even kin.” He shook his head as if he were still in denial. “But if you think that wasn’t a painful period for me, then you’d be wrong.”
He perched on his desk. “I was wrong to put my pain above your welfare. But I kept up those support payments and you kids never went without. Business wasn’t always this good—” he spread his arms to indicate everything around him “—and your mother didn’t want any part of it. I paid her fair market value for the house so she could have her fresh start.”
Lucky scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his head. His hand came to rest at the back of his neck. He couldn’t tell if the tension was coming or going after his father’s revelation.
“I was proud of you when you were a scrapper. And I’m proud of you now. I wasn’t just blowing smoke when I said I’m not going to be around forever. I have lung cancer. I had it before. Now it’s back. The doc doesn’t think I’m going to be able to beat it this time, but what the hell does he know, right?”
It was as if he’d found and lost his father in the same instant. Thirty-two years of hurt and none of it mattered. His heart filled to capacity with forgiveness and yet ached with emptiness. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say I’m leaving my business in good hands.” His father clapped him on the shoulder. “You, Bruce, Luke’s son. You’re all I have left that matters.”
Lucky closed his eyes and shook his head. “I can’t,” he said, his voice cracking. He glanced at the picture of Luke above his father’s desk. “I can’t stay here,” he repeated.
His father’s grip tightened and his voice boomed as he said, “I don’t understand.”
“Well, you’ll understand this.” Lucky shook off his father’s grasp. “Cait’s pregnant with my son.”
Lucky waited for the accusations to fly.
Instead, his father looked at him with compassion.
Someone rapped on the glass. Both men turned in time to see Maddie standing there, frantic. And Nora Jean hurrying to the nearest exit.
“NORA.” LUCKY CAUGHT UP with her and tried to explain, but she didn’t want to listen. She got into her car and drove off.
And he knew where she was going. Lucky raced around back for his bike, then sped to the house.
Cait met him at the side porch. He looked up at her from the bottom step. “Nora Jean knows” was all he got out before Nora pulled her car into the driveway.
“Is it true?” she asked, coming after Cait.
Lucky put himself between them—Cait up on the porch and Nora Jean down on the gravel drive.
“Are you carrying Lucky’s baby?” Luke’s mother demanded.
“It’s not like that, Nora,” Lucky said, raising his voice above hers.
“It’s nobody’s fault,” Cait added. “It’s just something that happened. Their samples were switched. But this baby is as much Luke’s as it is mine. Calhoun just supplied the DNA.”
Ouch! Even if she’d just said it to appease her mother-in-law, it hurt. Made worse by the fact that he knew it was what she believed.
And Nora Jean seemed willing to accept it. The alternative for her would have been to have nothing of Luke left.
“So you never slept together,” the woman said coolly.
Lucky and Cait locked gazes for a brief telltale second.
“I thought so,” Nora Jean said, walking away.
Cait followed her, but nothing she could say would turn the woman back around. Then Cait turned on him. “Why? Why did you have to ruin everything?”
IT WAS UNFAIR OF HER TO BLAME him for something that wasn’t his fault. It was unfair of her to throw him out.
But Cait didn’t feel like being fair. She was too hurt.
She didn’t love Calhoun. Not the way she’d loved Luke. And she’d keep telling herself that until she believed it.
A few days after he left, she tried to get her life back to normal. Of course, she couldn’t remember what that had been. So she started with laundry.
From the laundry room, she had a view of the fenced-in backyard. A big backyard. With enough room for kids to run in and a swing set for them to play on. She could almost hear the screen door slamming behind the Calhoun boys as they ran outside to play.
There was a shelf above the washer/dryer stocked with laundry supplies and she tossed a couple of things into the washer.
Stryker followed on her heels. He whined a lot these days. And she couldn’t blame him. She whined a lot, too.
She reached down to pet him. And when she stood back up she pressed a hand to the small of her back. That was getting harder to do.
Stryker sniffed around Calhoun’s old seabag and whined again. The dog could probably still smell him. Then the dog lifted his leg and peed. Right on Calhoun’s seabag.
“Bad dog, bad dog,” Caitlin said, picking him up and taking him outside.
She came back in and cleaned the mess. And realized she’d have to empty the seabag and see what else in there was damaged.
She opened his padlock—he’d left the key in the lock—and dug through his clean laundry on top. She’d forgotten he’d washed all his uniforms right after he’d returned from Iraq.
She brought one of those clean T-shirts to her nose. Not a trace of his scent. At least not to her nose. Suddenly, she envied Stryker.
About halfway down she uncovered a book. What To Expect When You’re Expecting. She had a copy, as well, but was surprised he had one. Tucked inside were two letters and a receipt.
She recognized the receipt as payment in full for her engagement ring. She clutched the ring and his dog tags around her neck and sank to the floor.
The first letter was addressed to her. Just her name scrawled across the envelope in his big bold handwriting.
Caitlin opened the letter, feeling like the intruder that she was. Even though it was addressed to her, he’d never given it to her. She read it out loud.
Dear Cait,
Today you told me I was going to be a father. I guess the word we’re using is donor. I’m afraid I may have come across as a little abrupt during our conversation. There were just so many things going through my mind. Not the least of which was your welfare, and that of the bab
y.
Our convoy has been sidelined by a sandstorm. I can’t see two feet in front of my face, but here I sit scribbling out a note with my nubby pencil because I can’t stop thinking about you and wondering if you’re all right.
For me war is kind of like this storm. Something to be weathered. You take it as it comes and you never know how it’s going to be until you’re in it. Then all you can do is wait it out.
I guess that could be said of life in general.
I’m sorry you’re having to go through all that alone. I want you to know that I’m here for you.
Sometimes we just have to wait and see how things turn out. When I think about the baby, I want more than anything to be a part of his or her life. But for now all I can do is wait.
Should anything happen to me, my brother, Bruce, will be contacting you regarding my last will and testament. I’m leaving everything to you and the baby.
You’re probably wondering how it is that your husband had a half brother, two half brothers, that you knew nothing about. We grew up in separate families, not always on the best of terms.
If I have one regret it’s that I never got to know Luke as a brother. The only thing that would eclipse that now is if I never got the chance to see the baby.
He’d signed it, “Always, Lucky.”
Cait glanced at the receipt again and at the sealed letter addressed to Peanut. She hugged them to her breast as she imagined his convoy stopped along the road in a sandstorm.
From day one, and under the most deplorable conditions, he’d put her first. Even when it conflicted with his own desires.
When was she going to admit she loved him?
And had for a long time.
“One last gift, Luke,” Caitlin said, staring up at the ceiling. “I don’t think I fully appreciated the one you sent me after my other request. So could you, please, turn him around and bring him home? I’m pretty sure he’s halfway to Sturgis by now.”
THAT THURSDAY EVENING, the nineteenth of June, Caitlin went to her Lamaze class alone. She didn’t expect Nora Jean to be there. Her mother-in-law wasn’t even returning her calls. But she kept glancing at the door, hoping Calhoun would show up.
Fifteen minutes into class, still watching the door, she felt her heart skip a beat when she glanced up and saw Evelyn standing there.
“I thought you might need a coach,” the woman said, joining her on the mat.
“Thank you.” Holding back tears of gratitude, Caitlin hugged Lucky’s mother.
After class they stopped by Dairy Queen for Peanut Buster Parfaits. The first contraction followed the first bite. Caitlin forgot about eating ice cream and sank back in the chair.
“Are you all right?” Evelyn asked.
“Just Braxton Hicks, I think.”
The next contraction came ten minutes later and Evelyn started timing them with the stopwatch she’d brought to class.
“Let’s move around to see if they subside,” she suggested. “If not, then we know it’s the real thing.”
Caitlin took her parfait with her and didn’t have any more contractions on the way to her car, but the pain in her lower back intensified.
“I’m going to follow you home,” Evelyn said from the open driver-side door of her Explorer. Their parking spaces were side by side. Caitlin had the top down on the Mustang and was already behind the wheel.
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “This baby’s not coming until Saturday.”
“Saturday?” Evelyn closed her car door and walked over to the passenger side of Caitlin’s car. She looked up at the sky. “There’s a full moon. I wouldn’t be surprised if this baby comes tonight.”
“Isn’t that just an old wives’ tale?”
“They don’t get to be old wives’ tales without some truth to them. I’ve been around enough maternity wards to know.”
“I’m still holding out for Saturday.” Saturday was the first day of summer and the baby’s due date.
“Only a small percentage of babies are born on their due date, Cait.”
“It’s the anniversary of Luke’s death. And Lucky will be home that day,” she said with confidence, even though she didn’t know for certain.
Evelyn offered a sad smile. She didn’t say she doubted it, but Caitlin knew that’s what his mother was thinking. No one had been able to reach him on his cell phone, not even Bruce, since the day Cait kicked him out. “He’d better be” was all Evelyn said.
“When did he tell you about the baby?” Caitlin knew Evelyn’s appearance tonight was no coincidence, but she’d thought the woman had probably heard from Dottie or Nora Jean.
“Oh, honey, a mother just knows these things.” Evelyn opened the passenger door of the Mustang and slid in next to Cait to give her a hug.
“Do you think it’s possible to love two brothers at the same time?” Caitlin asked.
“Well, now, you’re asking an authority, aren’t you?” Evelyn smiled. “Although I’d have to say I’d fallen out of love with Big Luke long before I fell in love with John. But Big Luke still tugs at my heartstrings, especially when I’m feeling nostalgic. And I think I was attracted to John the moment I met him in Vietnam.”
“You met John in Vietnam?”
“Uh-huh,” Evelyn confirmed. “China Beach. Luke, too. It was the early seventies. Dottie and I were Navy nurses serving the Marines. We were good friends and she introduced me to her brothers the night of a big Bob Hope USO show. John was late getting there because he’d been out on patrol and the crowd packed the airplane hangar so he had a hard time finding us. By then Luke and I had hit it off. But I remember feeling butterflies when we were introduced.”
Cait took the lid off her parfait and started spooning it into her mouth as she listened.
“Years later when I was a divorced mother of two,” Evelyn continued, “John helped me through the worst of it. Then one day, out of the blue, he said, ‘I wish I’d gotten there first,’ and I knew.” Evelyn put a hand to her heart. “I knew I’d been in love with him for a long time, but I count that as the moment I fell in love with him.”
“It can happen like that, can’t it?” Caitlin said, speaking from experience. “You explain away the butterflies when you first meet him at the airport because it’s wrong. Then the next thing you know it’s…too late.”
“It’s never too late, Cait,” Evelyn said, brushing the hair back from Cait’s face. “Win or lose, it’s only a tragedy if you let it become one by not taking a risk. Do you know why the boys call Dottie their crazy aunt?”
Cait shook her head.
“John brought a buddy with him the night of the USO show, a Corporal Eastbrook. For Dottie it was love at first sight. They got engaged, and a short while later he was killed. A year of grieving is expected, a couple years romantic. But romantic love is not real love, and thirty years wasted is sad.”
I’m Dottie, Cait thought as she drove home.
Or at least she’d planned on being just like Dottie, but with a baby to ease the loneliness. What kind of burden was that to put on a child? And how selfish was she to choose a dead father or no father over her baby’s real father?
Cait pulled into her driveway behind an SUV. The new Suzuki XL7 was a mobile advertisement for Calhoun Cycles and Suzuki motorcycles and parts. Just like the one Calhoun had said he’d get for her. Her heart raced as she hurried to get out of the car. There were no lights on in the house or the shed. Or even the garage he’d built.
There was an envelope tucked under the windshield wiper. She tore into it as Evelyn came up behind her. The note was from Big Luke. “This came for you today” was all it said.
Cait tipped the torn envelope, looking for a key.
She opened the unlocked car door. She looked under the floor mat and flipped down the visor. The keys fell into her hands. She was backing out the door when she noticed the baby seat in back.
“He really does think of everything,” she murmured, closing the car door.
Plea
se let him realize she needed him home.
Mounting the stairs to her house, Caitlin glanced at the shed. “What do you suppose FOB stands for?”
“Forward Operating Base,” the other woman said.
“Hmm.” It still didn’t make any sense to her. But it must have made sense to him.
“You call me if those contractions start up again,” Evelyn insisted. “Otherwise I’ll call you tomorrow. Good night.”
“Night.” That night, instead of sleeping in the house, Caitlin and Stryker curled up on the cot in the FOB. Other than the neatly made bed and unplugged appliances, there was nothing belonging to Calhoun. He’d taken all his civilian clothes. His seabag full of uniforms he no longer needed was still in her laundry room. But his pillow smelled of him, so she held on to it.
FRIDAY MORNING Dottie and Evelyn showed up with overnight bags in hand to let Caitlin know they meant business. “Either we stay here until you go into labor,” Evelyn said, “or you come home with one of us.”
“You can’t stay here alone,” Dottie agreed.
Since that wasn’t an option right now, Caitlin packed a suitcase. She added the Babies R Us bag with the Big Guy/Little Guy T-shirts.
Evelyn offered an indulgent smile. But both Evelyn and Dottie looked at her as if she was crazy when she pulled Luke’s flag out of the triangular display box.
“I’d like to stop by Nora Jean’s on the way to the hospital.”
“Hospital?” Evelyn said, catching on quickly.
“Since about four this morning,” Caitlin confirmed. Her contractions had been coming at regular two-minute intervals for at least three hours. But they hadn’t intensified until she was up and moving.
“You should have called me,” Evelyn scolded.
“First babies don’t come that fast, right?” Evelyn and Dottie hurried her out to the car. “Stryker!” Cait said, turning back.
“Leave your house key. We’ll have Keith come by and take the dog over to our place,” Evelyn said, turning Cait back toward the Explorer. “Have you called your doctor?”
Caitlin called her doctor. And tried Lucky one last time. His phone went straight to voice mail, as it had for the past week. When she hung up she had to argue with Evelyn to get her headed in the direction of Nora Jean’s house. “This is really important to me.”
The Marine's Baby, Maybe Page 18
