On Second Thought

by Kristan Higgins

  "Sore," he said, then looked at me and smiled. "Thank you, by the way."

  "You're welcome," I said. "I also accept gifts."

  "You're very good with people, Miss O'Leary. Especially me."

  "Well, I love you, so..."

  He stopped. "Do you?"

  "Afraid so."

  He looked at my mouth, then back to my eyes. "Good," he said. "Good." Then he kissed me again, and since it was Jonathan, I think we could tell this was his way of saying I love you, too.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kate

  On the night of the Coburns' anniversary party, I was seven weeks pregnant. The baby was about as big as a bean, or a blueberry, according to the internet. Disturbing that they always compared it to food. She--or he, the sex was already decided, though I wasn't sure I wanted to find out--was ten thousand times bigger than when she began. In five weeks, my chances of miscarriage would plummet, and I was counting the hours. Just eight hundred and thirty-three to go.

  My breasts were sore, and I was still tired a lot. In fact, I fell asleep at my desk the other day and woke up in a puddle of drool, another fun pregnancy symptom.

  I loved the baby so much it was like living in another dimension. My little traveler had replaced Ollie as the creature I talked to the most.

  My plan was to get through tonight, which was going to be horrifically difficult on its own. Later this week, I'd tell the Coburns I was moving back to Brooklyn and get out of Cambry-on-Hudson before I started showing. The urge to disappear into Brooklyn and simply never contact them again was strong, if wrong.

  This pregnancy would hurt them so much.

  In two months, my tenants' lease would be up, and I could move back to my apartment and start the next phase of my unexpectedly complicated, sad, wonderful life. Daniel was campaigning for me to live with him until then; he had a second bedroom. I was thinking about it.

  He'd been great these past few weeks. He called every night and came over at least once a week. One day, I found the fridge full of fresh vegetables and a roasted chicken. He left me little presents, like a huge vat of Tums--I had wicked heartburn--and a nice almond-scented shower gel. A gift certificate for a pedicure. You could tell the guy had four sisters.

  This would be my last regular night in the house. Tomorrow, Ainsley and I were going to start packing my things. Not that there were too many--mostly clothes and a few photos.

  I'd miss it here, the house that never felt like mine. It had always been like winning a vacation in a fabulous place you could never afford. But the few short months of my marriage had happened here. Every day of our marriage, Nathan and I came back here. Slept here. Made love here.

  The spike shoved through my throat once again.

  It was time to get dressed. I had a navy blue gown to wear, a simple V-neck.

  The dress looked a lot different compared to the last time I'd worn it (also to the Cambry-on-Hudson Lawn Club, to another fund-raiser), courtesy of my pregnancy boobs, but it was too late to try to find something else. I put on a necklace Nathan had given me--a single dark gray, iridescent pearl on a silver chain. My wedding band and engagement ring.

  I'd have to stop wearing those. The spike turned again.

  I had the architectural plans finished, rolled up and tied up with a gold ribbon. The Coburns had asked me to come early so we could all drink a toast to Nathan first.

  I picked up the picture of the two of us from last fall, the selfie I'd taken, me over his shoulder, kissing his cheek. For the first time since he'd died, I really studied it. It had been September, a year ago.

  He looked happy. A little unsure, maybe? It was hard to tell, knowing what Madeleine had said, reading those emails.

  "Time to go," I whispered to my bean-sized embryo.

  *

  The Coburns, Brooke and Chase, and I were ushered into a private room at the Club. We all kissed each other on both cheeks--it took a while.

  "Kate, deah," Eloise said. "Thank you so much for coming. I know how hard this is for you."

  "Oh, I...I wouldn't miss it," I said.

  "You look beautiful," Chase said kindly. He was a nice man. "And, Kate, about the house...thank you. It will mean so much to the boys. It means so much to Brooke."

  "Well," I said. "It felt like the right thing." I forced a smile, inwardly cringing. I'd also donated Nathan's life insurance to the Coburns' scholarship fund. Anonymously.

  A waiter handed out glasses of champagne, then left, and we all stood around, not making eye contact.

  "It's hard to celebrate this year," Mr. Coburn began, and Chase put his arm around Brooke, who immediately began to cry. "But I'm grateful to you, my love." He turned to Eloise, tears in his eyes. "Thank you for fifty years. Thank you for our daughter. Thank you for our son." He raised his glass, his hand shaking. "To Eloise," he said, the tears tracing down his wrinkled cheeks.

  "To Eloise," we echoed.

  She looked so dignified and beautiful...and tragic. Her whole life was written on her face, the smiles, the love for her children and grandchildren, the pain of her unfathomable loss.

  "To our son," she said, and then they were in each other's arms, sobbing quietly.

  I bent my head. Oh, Nathan, please help them, I prayed.

  "He loved you all so much," I said. "He was so proud to be your son and brother." Eloise glanced at me gratefully, and Brooke squeezed my hand.

  Then, from my purse, I heard the buzz of a text. Shit! Daniel was supposed to drop the swing off here. But I'd forgotten to text him earlier so he could get here before the Coburns. Just plain forgot, one of the many fun symptoms of pregnancy. I checked my phone discreetly. Yep.

  When do you want me to drop off the swing? I'm in the parking lot. Are you here yet?

  "Mama," Brooke said, her voice ragged, "I have something for you." She went to the table and picked up a gift-wrapped package. "Open it."

  It was a family portrait, taken at our engagement party. The eight of us--Nathan and me, Mr. and Mrs. Coburn, Brooke and Chase and the boys, standing stiffly, a rather terrible shot, slightly blurry. Brooke's eyes were closed, and Atticus was out of focus, and I looked uncomfortable (because I had been). Nathan's arm was around me.

  It was the only picture I'd seen of all of us.

  "Oh, darling, it's perfect," Eloise said, and they hugged, too, Brooke's shoulders shaking.

  This was agony.

  "Kate?" Chase asked. "You have something, too, right?" He nodded at the scroll I'd left on the table.

  "Yes, yes," I said, breaking out of my inertia. "Here." I handed them the plans. "One of Nathan's coworkers put the finishing touches on, but this is from... This is from Nathan. He wanted you to modify the house a little."

  "Nathan did this?" Mr. Coburn asked as Chase and I unrolled the blueprints.

  "You remember, darling," Eloise said. "He wanted us to have a bedroom downstairs for when we're older. I didn't realize he...he'd started." Her chest started to hitch, but she pressed her hand against her heart. "Kate, this is so thoughtful. Thank you, darling. Oh, look. A porch! He knew I always wanted a covered porch." She reached out and grabbed my hand. "Kate, thank you. Thank you, deah."

  "You're welcome," I whispered.

  "I had a dream he came to the house for lunch," she said, her voice faraway. "It was so wonderful to see him..."

  "Mr. and Mrs. Coburn," said one of the club staffers from the doorway. "Your guests have begun to arrive."

  "We should get out there," Eloise said. "Is everyone ready? As ready as we'll ever be, I suppose." She gave a smile that wobbled at first, then grew stronger, and I admired her more than I could ever possibly say.

  It was a relief to get out of that room of pain and loss. Older people in tuxes and gowns streamed in, and I hugged the edge of the foyer, trying to make it outside without having to talk to anyone. The smell of perfume was thick, and a wave of nausea rolled over me. Outside, one of the staff was directing people inside, welcoming them to the party. />
  "Is there a man in a pickup truck around here?" I asked.

  "Around the corner of the building," the kid said. He smelled horribly of Axe body spray, and another heavy wave of nausea rolled up my legs, into my gut. Oh, God, I was going to throw up. Walking as fast as I could, I saw Daniel's truck at the kitchen entrance. He was leaning against the tailgate.

  "Hey," he said. "You look amazing."

  I puked on his work boots.

  His arm went around me, guiding me to the passenger side of the truck so I'd have a little privacy, anyway. Not that I could think much, as my insides tried to surge up my throat.

  Good thing I'd worn my hair up, I thought distantly. Daniel pulled the hem of my dress out of the way as I retched until I was clean. Then he sat me down on the passenger seat, opened the glove box and handed me a Dunkin' Donuts napkin so I could wipe my mouth.

  "Here," he said, handing me a bottle of water. "Rinse and spit."

  I obeyed. Realized I was gripping his hand.

  "Rough night?" He knelt down in front of me and smiled, his eyes kind.

  "You're a good guy," I whispered.

  "That's what they tell me."

  For a second, I just looked at him.

  "It's gonna be all right," he said, and I believed him. "I know it's complicated, Kate, but we're in this together. I'll be a good dad, you'll be a great mom and...and this is gonna be fine. Okay?"

  "Okay." I took a deep breath and looked at the Club's front door, where people were still streaming in. "You know what? Maybe it's best if you just drop off the swing at the Coburns' house. I sort of missed the moment. Is that okay?"

  "You bet." He stayed where he was a moment longer. "Feeling better?"

  "Yes."

  He smiled, and I loved him a little then.

  Daniel helped me out of the truck, held me by the shoulders for a minute to make sure I was steady.

  "Their house is on the same street as mine," I said. "Half mile down. It's a big brick place with a white front door."

  "Got it. I'll call you later."

  I could feel his eyes on me as I walked back to the main entrance. Up the four stairs, holding my gown up so I wouldn't trip. Then I looked up and saw Madeleine.

  "You nasty whore," she said. "You're pregnant with that man's baby."

  *

  Why she'd been invited, I didn't know. Maybe she hadn't been. It hardly mattered now.

  We went into the room where I'd just been with the Coburns.

  She'd seen me from the window, leaving when everyone else was coming in, she said, and suspected something was off. It was one of the many things Nathan had loved about her, she said--her uncanny intuition. And so she'd spied.

  "I guess we know what kind of a person you really are," she said, her lips white.

  "Madeleine, I...I would appreciate you not telling the Coburns."

  "Oh, believe me, they're going to know."

  "Not tonight, please. This day is hard enough."

  "They should know what kind of pretender their son married."

  I closed my eyes. "I'll tell them tomorrow." My hands were shaking, and I felt dizzy and starving and wretched. "I'm moving soon. Back to Brooklyn."

  "Good. I hope they never see you again. You never deserved their son."

  "Why are you here, Madeleine?" I asked.

  "Because I support their foundation," she said. "Because I love them."

  Because she would never recover from having drawn that line in the sand with Nathan--children or her. She'd never get over the fact that he didn't desert me. She thought they'd have more time.

  Just as I did.

  "I'm sorry for your loss," I whispered. "I know you loved him so much."

  Her eyes narrowed into slits. "I don't need your pity," she snarled. "Just make sure you tell the Coburns. I'll call Eloise tomorrow night to make sure."

  "Kate!" Brooke stood in the doorway. "There you are." She looked from me to Madeleine. "Is everything okay?"

  "We're fine," Madeleine said. "Excuse me." She left the room with her head held high, her gown swishing.

  "I'm sorry if she upset you," Brooke said, putting her arm around me. "You're white as a ghost. She wasn't invited. I think she's a little...psycho." She gave me a smile. "Come on. Mom and Dad are worried about you."

  And so I spent the rest of the night with Nathan's family, Eloise occasionally holding my hand, Mr. Coburn making sure I had enough to eat, Brooke sitting next to me at dinner, Miles climbing onto my lap.

  For the last time, I was one of them, and it hurt more than I could have ever imagined.

  *

  The next day, dressed in jeans that were feeling a little tight, I went over to my in-laws' house.

  "Kate! That swing! Oh, darling, it's beautiful," Eloise said. "And last night...it was special, wasn't it? I think it was the right thing to do. I think Nathan would've approved. We raised so much for the scholarship fund! Someone donated more than a million dollars, can you imagine?"

  "That's wonderful," I said. "Um, Eloise... I need to talk to you and Mr. Coburn."

  "Hi, Kate!" Brooke was here. "How are you?"

  So they'd all hear at once. Maybe it was better this way.

  "Are you all right?" Brooke asked, her face changing from a smile into concern.

  "I need to tell you something. All of you."

  "Come, come, let's all sit. Nathan, where are you, darling? Oh, there you are."

  We sat in the living room, a vast, chilly place. On the mantel was the photo Brooke had given them last night.

  "We've already called a contractor," Eloise said. "We're just so excited to start Nathan's plan for the house. It's like having a little bit of him back, in a way."

  "Good. That's...that's what I hoped. Um, listen." My heart started clacking against my ribs. "I have some news."

  "What is it, dear?" Mr. Coburn asked, leaning forward.

  Shit. The words I'd practiced last night evaporated. The thing I wanted most to avoid was the idea that this baby was Nathan's. I couldn't let them think that, even for a second, then take it away.

  "Well, I... There's a friend of mine. Brooke, you met him. Daniel Breton?"

  "Oh, yes. Your sister's boyfriend."

  "No, he's not. Um...no, he's an old friend from Brooklyn. He actually made the swing for you."

  "And we love it," Eloise said. "It's simply stunning. Please give me his address so I can write him a note."

  They'd probably want to burn the swing in a few seconds. "Uh, well..." I licked my dry lips. "The thing is, Daniel and I, we...we've been friends for a while now. Ten years. And um...this past July, we, um...we slept together. Once."

  Eloise's smile slowly sagged. Mr. Coburn's bushy eyebrows drew together. I couldn't look at Brooke.

  "And now I seem to be pregnant," I whispered.

  Their silence was absolute. My hands were clenched so hard they were white.

  "Wait," Brooke said. "You slept with someone three months after my brother died? Are you kidding? Is this a joke? Because it is not funny."

  I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Didn't say anything.

  "So my brother was barely cold and you fu--"

  "Brooke, that's enough," Eloise said. She was looking at the coffee table. "Kate, I'm sorry. We'd like you to leave."

  "Okay," I whispered. "I just want you to know that it wasn't planned and... I loved Nathan so much, and all I wanted was--"

  "Get out," Mr. Coburn said, his voice shaking with rage. "Get out right now."

  I did. My head screamed with all the months of unshed tears, and the spike made swallowing impossible. I walked to my car like I was walking to the gas chamber, got in and drove the half mile back to my husband's house.

  It was time to go.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Ainsley

  I was supposed to go to the Coburns' anniversary party, but I had to go to the hospital instead.

  My father got injured when a rookie first baseman slid into him at home p
late. Dad still made the call (out by a mile and a half) but had to go to the ER with a broken tibia and a dislocated kneecap. Luckily, it was at Yankee Stadium, so I met him in the Bronx and drove him home. Texted Kate that I'd be staying with him tonight and maybe for a few days. I also called Candy.

  "Well, he's on his own," she said merrily. "We're separated. Besides, he's your father."

  "And Kate's and Sean's. And Sean is a doctor," I reminded her.

  "Right," she snorted. "Try getting that lunkhead to actually do something for his parents. No, it'll be you, sweetheart. You can practice your nursing skills. Good luck!"

  "Mom doesn't care," I told my father, who grunted. It was fine.

  And once I'd gotten him into his recliner, gave him a painkiller and made him some soup, I went out to my car and brought in the pictures of my mother that I'd been carrying around. Captive audience and all that.

  "What?" he asked. "I want to watch SportsCenter."

  I turned off the TV and tossed the remote control on the couch, out of reach. "Sorry, gimpy. No time like the present."

  "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you want?"

  I handed him the first photo, and he melted a little.

  "You sure were a cute little bugger," he said. He looked at the pictures slowly. "And your mother...she was terrific."

  "Can you tell me anything else about her?" I asked.

  "You're a lot like her."

  "In what ways?"

  "I don't know, Ainsburger," he said, shifting in the chair. "In the good ways. She was... She was fantastic."

  Men.

  But his eyes lingered on every photo, and once in a while, he'd touch one. "Happy times," he said gruffly. "We were happy."

  I wedged myself into the chair next to him and hugged him tight. "I'm sorry, Daddy."

  When he spoke, his voice was thick with tears. "I never thought I'd last this long without her. I'm an old man being taken care of by his spinster daughter, but Michelle will always be young."

  "I'm not a spinster," I said. "And she did give you me."

  "Yes," he said, hugging me. "Yes, she did." There was a pause. "What do you mean, you're not a spinster? You and Eric back together?"

  "No, Dad. But I'm dating my boss. My former boss, I mean. Jonathan Kent, from the magazine."

  "What magazine?"

  "You should pay more attention."

  He nodded, his chin scraping against my hair. "It's always been easier not to."

  "I love you anyway."

  Another squeeze. "Right back at you, sweetie."