It Started with a Pregnancy

by Christy Jeffries

  “Are you sure?” The little girl with glasses was also wearing a T-shirt displaying the periodic table on it and didn’t quite looked convinced.

  “Of course I’m sure.” Grant nodded and pulled out his cracked smartphone. “In fact, I’m pretty sure that an archaeologist once found some cave drawings showing a dinosaur and a unicorn being friends. I’ll look for pictures of them while you guys start your field trip.”

  “I still don’t want to be a frog, though,” the original little girl said, crossing her arms in front of her.

  Grant grabbed the clipboard from Rebecca and took the pen that was attached to the metal clasp. He scribbled something out and then wrote something else before handing the clipboard over to the dad whose skeptical facial expression probably mirrored Rebekah’s.

  “Now you guys are the Uni-rexes.” Grant wiggled his eyebrows at them. The girls all squealed in delight and ran off toward the volunteer tour guides stationed near the picnic tables.

  “Very well done.” The sudden sound of her mother’s voice behind them caused Rebekah to startle. “My husband tells me that you’re Bunny and Birdie’s nephew.”

  Grant’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he gulped, his wide eyes darting between Sheila and Mike Taylor. Was he surprised to see that her parents were polar opposites—at least in terms of appearance? Her father’s graying red hair and light complexion were protected from the harsh effects of the sun by his dorky hat. Her mother’s hair was black and had a natural curl—not a single gray hair to be seen—while her smooth skin was a dark umber, set off by the bright colors of her cotton tunic. It clashed horribly with the Hawaiian-print shirt her dad always wore when he was traveling to promote one of the many books he’d written about his adventures in fatherhood.

  Growing up as a biracial child, Rebekah became accustomed to people doing double takes at her parents, trying to figure out which one she resembled more. She resisted the urge to put a protective hand over her belly as she wondered whether her own children would face that same experience. Perhaps Grant was wondering the exact same thing. She could see the beads of perspiration forming on his brow and, despite the fact that it was still warm in mid-September, she had a feeling his discomfort was due to this unexpected meeting.

  No doubt he was wishing he could be anywhere but here. Again.

  He cleared his throat as he answered Rebekah’s mother. “That’s correct, ma’am. I’m Grant Whitaker.”

  He held out his hand and her mother grasped it with both of hers. “So, do you work with Rebekah?”

  He opened his mouth then closed it. Then he glanced at his rental car before turning to Rebekah and allowing his gaze to dart down toward her waist.

  “Sort of,” he said, causing her stomach to sink under his pointed gaze. Her lips remained in a firm line as her eyes pleaded with him not to say anything more. Where was the calm, laid-back Grant who’d scheduled her next doctor’s appointment when Rebekah was in a daze, or the take-charge and creative one who invented Uni-rexes for arguing little girls? She could certainly use some of that creativity to spin a story right now.

  Because her parents were now staring at both of them while she and Grant stared at each other, Rebekah had to jump in and say something. “Grant works in Jacksonville.”

  He immediately nodded. “That’s right. I work in Jacksonville. And I live there. I live and work in Jacksonville. Florida.”

  “Then that explains why you were on my flight,” her dad replied. He turned to his wife. “Grant and I sat together on the plane.”

  “We hadn’t officially met, though.” Grant rocked back on his heels and took a deep breath. His blue eyes had gone a shade darker and his normally tan face had gone a shade paler. “So I had no idea that he was your dad, Rebekah.”

  What did that mean? Was he trying to apologize for something? It didn’t seem like he’d been rude to her father—in fact, they seemed to be getting along well. So what was the problem? A knot formed in her chest as she looked between Grant and her dad, who was now smiling.

  “When I saw him reading the What to Expect When You’re Expecting book, I struck up a conversation and gave him some advice about fatherhood.” Her dad put a hand on Grant’s shoulder. When he turned to his wife, Rebekah tried not to bite all the way through her lip as he continued. “Grant’s girlfriend is pregnant with twins. Isn’t that exciting?”

  And that was when her own forehead broke out in a cold sweat.

  * * *

  Grant knew by her wide eyes filled with remorse that Rebekah hadn’t told her parents yet about the pregnancy.

  As they stood in the parking lot of the animal shelter with the midmorning sun beating down on them and the excited voices of about fifty first graders echoing all around, Mrs. Taylor took one look at her daughter and her smile dropped. Guilt was written all over Rebekah’s face—and if Grant could read it that clearly after only knowing her for a short time, it must be completely obvious to her parents. Grant couldn’t help but think all of this could’ve been avoided if only she’d told them.

  Or if he hadn’t gotten antsy waiting around for her to call and hopped on that flight this morning.

  “Are you...” Sheila Taylor began to ask her daughter, her dark eyes darting down to Rebekah’s midsection.

  Rebekah sighed and put her forehead in her palm. She didn’t look at either parent when she answered, “I was going to tell you both this weekend.”

  “Tell us what?” Mike Taylor asked, and his wife used her elbow to nudge him in the ribs. He squinted one eye at where Sheila was staring and then his head pivoted to Grant.

  “My daughter’s your girlfriend?”

  Rebekah gasped. “Well, technically, we’re not—”

  “It’s complicated,” Grant interrupted and put a protective arm over Rebekah’s shoulders. “But we’re working things out.”

  “Oh, my gosh.” Sheila covered her mouth and her eyes grew damp. “So we’re going to be grandparents?”

  “And it’s twins.” Mike clapped his hands together. “That means double the fun.”

  “Twins!” His wife gripped his upper arm. “I’m going to need to get the bassinet back out of the garage.”

  “And the baby swing.” Mike giggled as he lifted his wife up in a quick hug. Then he locked Rebekah into a bear hug before releasing her to pivot back to Sheila. “Or did we get rid of it a few years ago? If so, we’re gonna need to get another one.”

  “Two,” Grant said holding up two fingers. He immediately felt Rebekah’s elbow against his rib cage. Like mother, like daughter, apparently. “What? I’m just pointing out that we’re going to need two of everything.”

  One of the parent chaperones yelled for Mrs. Taylor and she waved back. “Okay. I have to go supervise the field trip. But, oh, my gosh. We’re going to have so much to do. This is so exciting.” Then the woman pointed at Grant. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll have dinner tonight to celebrate.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he told her and braced himself for another tight-lipped frown from Rebekah.

  But she was being swept up in another hug by her father. “I can’t believe my little Dimples is gonna be a mom. This is so exciting.”

  “We’ll talk more about it later, Dad.” Rebekah seemed as if she was trying to smile, but Grant could see the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You better go help Mom and that poor parent who got stuck chaperoning the Frog group.”

  It was actually the Uni-rex group now, but Grant didn’t think Rebekah would appreciate the correction right that second. When her parents walked away, she lowered her face into her palms. Grant placed a hand on her lower back and rubbed slow circles. “Are you feeling okay? Do you need to throw up?”

  “I’m too busy to throw up.” Rebekah finally lifted her eyes to him. “I have to oversee a field trip for fifty kids, I have a tour group from the city council’s office comi
ng this afternoon to see our plans for where we plan to place the cell tower and I have a budget meeting with your aunts at five. Oh, and now my parents want to have dinner with us and probably quiz me about the status of our nonexistent relationship.”

  “Nonexistent? Ouch.”

  “You know what I mean, Grant. You yourself called it complicated.” Rebekah used her fingers to massage the deep crease forming right above her nose. If she hadn’t looked like she was about to hyperventilate, her reaction might’ve actually been considered cute. Oh, who was he kidding? Even overwhelmed and frustrated, Rebekah Taylor was still a mighty attractive woman. Too bad all of that frustration was currently directed at him. “This was not the way I wanted them to find out.”

  “I tried to tell you that we needed to talk,” he reminded her. “Once I realized who your father was, I wanted to warn you.”

  “You could’ve just waited for me in my office,” she suggested.

  “Your dad had already seen me in the parking lot. Then, when they came over, I was trying to think of a fast way to throw them off the topic while simultaneously hoping your dad would have forgotten what I’d said on the plane.”

  “Is that what you were doing? You went all pale and looked so nervous, I thought you were going to faint again like you did in Dr. Singh’s office.”

  “I didn’t faint,” he defended himself. “I knocked myself out. By accident.” Okay, so even he knew that was lame.

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. The only thing I’ve asked from you through all of this is to keep it under wraps until I was ready to tell people. And you couldn’t even handle that.”

  The hurt in her tone hung between them and his heart hammered as he schooled his features and woodenly returned Mike Taylor’s thumbs-up gesture from across the parking lot.

  She had a point. Sure, he’d talked to a stranger—uh, sort of—on a plane, and not the editor of the Spring Forest Gazette. But he had made her a promise, and he could see why she felt betrayed. Now he needed to make things right. To show her that she could trust and depend on him.

  “Again, I didn’t know the stranger sitting next to me on the plane was your father.”

  Grant watched Rebekah cross her arms over her chest, which only served to thrust her attractive breasts up higher. “Besides, you said you were planning to tell them last weekend. I had no way of knowing that you hadn’t gone through with it. But now they’ve found out, and while I obviously don’t know them as well as you do, they seemed to take it well enough.”

  “The fact remains that I wasn’t ready for the whole world to know I was pregnant just yet. And I especially wasn’t ready for them to know that you’re the father.”

  “What’s wrong with me being the father?”

  “Can we not do this here?” Rebekah wouldn’t meet his gaze and the sting from her earlier comment about him not being able to handle his side of the bargain intensified. “There’s your Aunt Birdie. I know she and Bunny will figure things out eventually, but I would like to keep my personal life and my work life separate for as long as possible. Let me deal with my parents and you keep your aunts occupied today so they don’t find out from my dad, who is probably already on the phone with his publicist trying to score free samples of all the latest baby gear.”

  Rebekah walked away, her desire to keep their relationship a secret leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Wait, she’d specifically told him that they didn’t have a relationship—secret or otherwise. And while he knew she was upset, that was still a little more than he was willing to stomach. It wasn’t as if he was feeling the urge to settle down and get married, himself. But they were going to be in each other’s lives for at least the next eighteen-plus years, so she’d better figure out pretty quickly how to explain his presence to people. And not blame him for every single thing that she couldn’t control.

  Screw it. If she didn’t want anything to do with him, then he’d give her exactly what she wanted. She could keep her secret and protect her precious reputation and go at it alone.

  Grant was about to walk back to his car and drive to the airport when Aunt Birdie interrupted his thoughts. “She’s a wonder, isn’t she?”

  “She’s something, all right,” Grant replied, not taking his eyes off Rebekah.

  “The girl has been a blessing to the shelter. Not only does she keep us organized, but she’s full of all these big ideas for bringing awareness to our adoption program. This field trip was her idea and if today goes well, we’re gonna partner up with some of the local schools and get more kids out here for a hands-on learning experience about animals.”

  “Hmm” was all he could manage in response. He wasn’t really in the mood to hear every single one of Rebekah’s praiseworthy attributes when was currently trying to pretend that he didn’t exist.

  “I heard you two went out for drinks together a couple months back.” Birdie was more direct than her sister, and her eyes narrowed behind her glasses. “I’ve been hoping that meant you were getting along better now.”

  “What makes you think we don’t get along, Aunt Birdie?”

  His aunt answered by rolling her eyes and using a bobby pin to adjust the already tidy gray bun on top of her head. “So, what brings you to Spring Forest today, son?”

  Grant couldn’t very well admit that he’d flown out here purposely to see Rebekah. And after her comment about his fainting in the doctor’s office and the accusation that he hadn’t kept her pregnancy a secret, he decided that this was the perfect opportunity to prove to her that he could handle anything she threw his way. Besides, he had an excuse prepared—the same one he’d given Rebekah earlier. “I was actually going to take some pictures of that new picnic area for a brochure I’m working on.”

  Birdie’s smile lit up her face and she put a wrinkled and work-roughened hand on his biceps. “A brochure would be fantastic. We could hand them out at adoption events or when we do our booth at the annual street fair. Why are you always so good to your old aunties, Grant?”

  See, Rebekah wasn’t the only one who could come up with innovative ideas. And it wasn’t just a cover story—he really did want to do all he could for his aunts and for the shelter that meant so much to them.

  It was no secret that when his Whitaker grandparents had died, they’d left all their property to their four children in equal shares. His father had sold off his first, while his Uncle Gator had held on to his and then reaped a financial windfall by selling when the market was at its peak. Birdie and Bunny were the last two to own parcels of Whitaker Acres, yet their money had been so mismanaged recently, they’d hired an attorney to look into the possibility of recouping some of their losses. In the meantime, he’d been the one to suggest the possibility of leasing land to some of his contacts in the wireless industry for a cell tower, as well as any other money-producing ventures he could think of to keep his aunts’ rescue shelter afloat.

  Grant slipped Birdie’s hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the building’s entrance. “I also wanted to pick your and Bunny’s brains on the possibility of doing a big gala here as a fund-raiser.”

  “Like a fancy dress-up party?”

  “Well, not too fancy. But we could have dinner and dancing and maybe a silent auction. And people can bring their pets in dress-up costumes. When I was at my conference in San Francisco, the hotel where I stayed was hosting something similar. They called it a Fur Ball.”

  “A Fur Ball!” Birdie clapped her hands. “Wait until I tell Rebekah.”

  “Let’s not bother her right now while she has her hands full with the field trip kids. I’ll take you and Aunt Bunny to the Main Street Grille and we can talk about it. If Amanda Sylvester is there, we can ask her about catering the event. Maybe we can add on to the picnic area and create an outdoor party space.”

  Grant had no idea where any of this was coming from, but he kept talking about any innovation he could
think of as he steered the older woman toward the office. Hopefully, he could grab his other aunt and then get them far away before the field trip ended. He shuddered to think of what Rebekah’s reaction would be if her parents ran into the aunts and completely blew their secret.

  * * *

  Rebekah didn’t know where Grant had gone, but she didn’t take an easy breath until her dad’s old Subaru was long gone and the school bus had rumbled out of the parking lot after lunch. Her mom was only twenty minutes down the road when she sent a text asking where they should make a reservation for dinner tonight with Grant.

  She shot back a quick reply saying she’d talk to Grant. Rebekah would let him be the one to come up with an excuse about why they couldn’t come to Raleigh tonight for dinner.

  When she finally finished her tour with the city council members later that afternoon and they’d driven off, she realized there weren’t any cars left in the parking lot that she didn’t recognize. That was weird, considering Grant always rented one when he came to town.

  She went to her office and gobbled down one of the banana-nut muffins she’d been too busy—and nervous—to eat earlier. It was a little stale from sitting on her desk all day, but her stomach was growling in protest. She took a few quick bites as she made printouts of the budget reports she’d prepared for her bosses. However, when Bunny and Birdie arrived at her office, they barely glanced at their pages of detailed line item numbers, since they were too busy talking about all of Grant’s latest ideas for something called a Fur Ball.

  “And if the gala goes well, we could possibly start hosting bigger events,” Birdie told her.

  “Like weddings,” Bunny added. “That could really bring in some much needed revenue.”

  “But we’re a nonprofit animal shelter,” Rebekah tried to remind them. “I think there might be tax ramifications if we turn the place into some sort of party venue.”