“The local media will have a field day with the news that he’s fathering a child out of wedlock,” Yazmine continued. “I’m sure they’ll hound you once they find out who you are. Can you deal with that?”
Rosa gulped at the question. The difference in the social circles she and Jeremy traveled in was one of the reasons she’d been hesitant about the possibility of a relationship with him in the past, not that he’d given any indication that he was interested. At least, not before they’d jumped the gun by jumping into bed.
Yaz was the one used to paparazzi and the spotlight after years of dancing on Broadway. Rosa felt more comfortable in the shadows, behind the scenes. But for her baby, she’d face anything.
“I’ll learn to deal if need be,” Rosa answered. But inside, her trepidation grew at the prospect of having her one night of indiscretion detailed in the Tribune’s society pages.
“And how about Queen of Peace?” Yaz asked, poking at another potential sore spot Rosa’s pregnancy created.
“What about it?” Lilí picked up another throw pillow and set it on her lap, hands clasped on top of it. “I don’t see how the school has anything to do with this.”
“Actually, they kind of do,” Rosa answered.
Telling Principal Meyer and confessing to Father Yosef, her family’s and the school’s priest, was going to be exceedingly difficult. She anticipated, and deserved, their disappointment.
Guilt burned in her chest. Failing to meet expectations or responsibilities went against every instinct she’d honed in the years since Mami’s death. The need to please others and do what was right had become second nature. Her penance, though she had never shared this truth with anyone.
Yet, a voice inside her kept whispering it was time she stop second-guessing herself and listen to her heart.
“I don’t get it. What does the school care if Rosa’s pregnant?” Lilí asked, drawing Rosa out of her spiraling thoughts.
“The diocese added a morality statement to the teacher manual this year,” Rosa explained, meeting Lilí’s confused gaze. She had already mentioned the statement in passing to Yaz at the beginning of the school year. Back then, neither one had any inkling that the clause would matter to her at some point. “It’s not in our contract, but they plan on adding it next year. I’m not sure if they can hold me to it at the moment.”
“What does that mean?” Lilí pressed.
Rosa scrubbed her hands over her face, overwhelmed by the mounting complications. “An unwed, pregnant librarian isn’t really high on their list of acceptable role models for their students, especially when it comes to faculty or staff. It might be more difficult to fire me than if the clause was actually in my contract, but I’m sure there’s still the possibility that the school council could recommend my dismissal.”
“That’s bullshit!” Lilí punched her fist into the pillow in her lap.
“Yeah, but it’s a reality,” Yaz countered. Stretching out across the bottom half of Rosa’s legs, Yaz propped her elbow on the bed, resting her head in the palm of her hand. Her black hair pooled around her, a stark contrast to the cream-colored background material of the comforter. She stared intently at Rosa, her brow furrowed with concern. “The school, the church, our community. Not to mention Tío Pablo and Tía Dolores.”
“Ay, ay, ay, Tía Dolores! She’s gonna freak!” Lilí’s pained look mirrored Rosa’s reaction every time she thought of her godmother and how the woman who was like a second mother to all three of them was going to take the news.
“I know!” Yaz pursed her lips as she nodded. “I can’t even imagine that conversation. But it should happen, soon! Once word gets out, everyone, especially the viejitas at church will have an opinion. We all know those old ladies don’t hold their tongue.”
The ever-widening ripple effect her actions had created set Rosa’s queasy stomach to complaining again.
She closed her eyes, listening to her sisters as they commiserated over the maddening way gossip burnt up the airwaves within their community. Each one upping the other with stories of times past when one or the other had been the topic of choice. It was no surprise that most of the gossip fodder featured Lilí.
Strangely, having Yaz and Lilí voice the same concerns she’d been anguishing over on her own for the past week made them less daunting than before. She drew strength from her sisters. That strength in turn fed this new sense of determination that had taken root deep inside of her. Steadily growing along with the tiny baby in her belly.
“You’re right,” Rosa interrupted. “About all of it.”
“What do you mean?” Lilí asked.
“Todo esto es una realidad,” Rosa repeated Yaz’s declaration from moments ago, because there was no hiding from the reality of it all. “But, that doesn’t change my mind. I’ll face whatever newspaper gossip, hold my head high at mass on Sundays, and listen respectfully to Tía Dolores’s lecture.”
“Girl, there’ll be more than one of those. Believe me, I know.” Having been the recipient of countless Tía Dolores’s lectures in the past, Lilí pressed a hand to her chest, her expression dire. “I love you, but let me know when you plan to tell her. I want to make sure I’m not there.”
“I don’t care what she says,” Rosa asserted. “It won’t change my mind. Jeremy thinks he needs to do the right thing and marry me. That’s not enough. Not for me, or for this baby.”
Calling on every ounce of grit within her, she sat up straighter. “He’s a good guy. You know that. So I trust we’ll figure things out. Maybe some type of co-parenting, I don’t know. Only, not a quickie wedding for the wrong reasons.”
Her hands fluttered nervously and she clasped them on her lap to steady the trembling building inside of her. Anxiety urged her to play it safe. Follow conventional advice.
A new sense of desperation screamed at her not to listen.
Scared but determined, she met Yaz and Lilí’s gazes. “If that means I have to leave Queen of Peace and find a new job, so be it.”
The slack-jawed shock on her sisters’ faces was almost comical. Rosa would have laughed, if she wasn’t afraid her laughter might morph into tears. These days, it was hard to tell, thanks to the hormonal emotion roller coaster.
“I mean it. No one is going to force me to do what I don’t think is right for me or my baby. I’m not settling. I want to be strong enough to not do that anymore in my life.” Rosa stopped, hope and trepidation clashing inside as she asked, “Can I count on the two of you to stand with me?”
The bed jostled as Yaz pushed herself to a seated position, tucking her legs underneath her.
Without missing a beat, her sisters held out their hands to her and each other, creating an unbreakable circle of trust.
“I’m with you, whatever you decide,” Lilí asserted, her grip tightening around Rosa’s.
“Gracias,” Rosa answered, her throat clogging with unshed tears.
“Me, too. And I’m sure Tomás feels the same,” Yaz added.
Hearing her brother-in-law’s name reminded Rosa that the rest of the family waited downstairs. Their Thanksgiving meal growing cold on the dining room table.
“I’m sorry I ruined dinner. You two should go back, make sure Maria’s okay.”
“They’re good—”
“I’m sure it’s—”
“No,” Rosa interrupted her sisters. “I’ll get some sleep. Or maybe work on my poetry for a bit. You know it soothes me when my thoughts are jumbled.”
“You and your writing. I’ll never get it. Give me a dance-off any time I need to get rid of stress!” Lilí shimmied her shoulders to some music inside her fun-filled head.
“Whatever.” Yaz chucked their younger sister on the shoulder and rose. “Come on, let’s give her some space.”
After quick hugs, Yaz and Lilí left, and the room grew quiet.
Rosa reached for her Moleskine journal and favorite ink pen on her nightstand. She rubbed her fingers over the smooth surface, flicked her nai
l at the letter from Papi that marked her place. There was comfort in the familiar talismans.
Leaning back against the headboard, she closed her eyes. Fear, anxiety, and determination swarmed through her in a frenzy. She was too worked up to put pen to paper right now.
Taking a deep breath, she focused on centering herself. Allowing her emotions to settle around her so she could better translate them to the page.
Only then did she realize that hovering above them all was relief.
Dios mío! She’d been so worried Yaz and Lilí wouldn’t get behind her unconventional idea. How foolish.
Sí, this wasn’t going to be easy. She’d have to stand strong in the face of busybodies here in Oakmont, not to mention what would inevitably come from those in Jeremy’s circle. Add to it the uncertainty of what might happen with her position at Queen of Peace.
But when it came down to it, none of that mattered.
For her child’s sake, for their future, she was intent on standing her ground.
Her one hope was that Jeremy would see things her way. If not, the road ahead would be even bumpier than it appeared right now.
Chapter Six
It didn’t take Jeremy long to remember that part of the beauty of living in a small suburb all your life was the close relationships you developed over the years with friends, neighbors, and, apparently, even your doctors. Less than five minutes after he and Rosa had checked in with the receptionist, they were quietly ushered into an exam room.
The nurse made quick work of taking Rosa’s temperature—normal—pulse and blood pressure—higher than usual—and weight—down ten pounds since her annual check-up only four months ago. The older woman didn’t say anything, but Jeremy noted the assessing once-over look she gave Rosa before typing more notes in the online medical chart.
The nurse shot him a perfunctory glance, then told them the doctor would be in shortly.
As soon as the door closed behind the nurse, Jeremy moved his chair closer to the examination table where Rosa lay partially reclined. Eyes closed, she held a death grip on a throw-up tray the receptionist had given her. Once again, her face had that drab olive color that descended moments before she got sick.
Dark circles shaded the skin under her eyes and her lips pinched with her discomfort. Unable to resist his need to comfort her, he gently brushed her silky hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear.
“You’re being a real trooper,” he told her.
The edges of Rosa’s lips curved the tiniest bit. “Funny, I don’t feel like a trooper. More like a party pooper.”
He smiled, relieved by her attempt to make a joke. “You do know how to bring a dinner party to a close, don’t you? Must be one of your hidden talents.”
She started to laugh, then winced and pressed a hand to her stomach.
Poor thing, she’d been throwing up or dry heaving so much lately, her stomach muscles had to be sore.
“Hey,” he said, tugging a lock of her black hair to gain her attention. “Thanks for letting me come with you. This means a lot.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to look at him. “It’s only fair,” she murmured.
He hoped her need to do the right thing wasn’t the only reason she’d asked if he wanted to drive her to the appointment, but he’d take it for now. “I meant what I said. I’m all in.”
“Jeremy, please don’t start—”
“In for whatever you’re comfortable with,” he added, not wanting to upset her. Besides, her doctor’s office wasn’t the place to discuss their plans for the future. Not unless she intended to accept his proposal. If that were the case, he’d take a yes anytime, anywhere. “It’s enough that you know I want to be here. With you.”
She gave a tiny nod in response, but her full mouth curved in the opposite direction of her shy smile. The uncertain hesitance in her brown eyes, something new since their night together, worried him.
He swallowed a frustrated curse, despising the wariness he sensed from her.
Several moments ticked past with nothing but the sound of voices in the hall interrupting their strained silence.
“Is it true that Yazmine and Lilí read you the riot act after dinner yesterday?” Rosa eventually asked.
“Yeah. Your sisters aren’t too happy with me. Especially Yazmine. But at least they waited to vent until Tomás had left to take Maria home.”
Rosa’s gaze dropped to the plastic hospital bowl in her lap. “They’re being protective, that’s all.”
“Understandable. Tomás surprised me, though.” Jeremy leaned back in his plastic chair, tugging at his jeans legs to make himself more comfortable, then splaying his hands on his knees. “I’m pretty sure he wanted to stick around and join the inquisition.”
“It is kinda fun having a new big brother.”
“Well, that big brother probably would have taken a swing at me if his six-year-old daughter hadn’t been there.”
Rosa chuckled.
The husky sound he’d only heard in his dreams lately drew a smile of his own. “I would’ve gladly taken the hit.”
Her gaze shot up to meet his, a question in her brown eyes.
“I get why they’re upset with me.” Jeremy lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Hell, I’m upset that I didn’t take care of you.”
“There’s no blame here, Jeremy. I can take care of myself.”
“I know. But maybe if I would have—”
“We were two consenting adults.”
“Okay, but I can’t help—”
“Who used protection, mind you.” She jabbed the throw-up tray in his direction, emphasizing her point. It was almost comical, except for the anger flashing in her eyes, coloring her neck and cheeks with a dark pink blush. “I see how you might feel some responsibility, but just because I’m pregnant does not mean I become your charity case.”
“Charity case?” Jeremy choked on the words, floored by her accusation. “Why would you—”
The door opened and a middle-aged, portly woman with a short salt-and-pepper bob stepped into the room. A stethoscope draped her neck and Dr. Claudia Jiménez was engraved in navy thread on her white lab coat’s right chest pocket. The doctor paused inside the doorway, probably sensing that she’d interrupted more than a pleasant conversation.
Charity case?
Jeremy’s mind reeled. Where would Rosa even get that idea?
“Buenos días,” the doctor greeted them. “Rosa, is everything okay here?”
Great. The last thing Jeremy wanted was for the doctor to kick him out before they even started.
There was a heavy beat before Rosa answered, “We’re good. Jeremy Taylor, meet Dr. Jiménez.”
Jeremy rose from his chair, extending his hand to shake. “It’s a pleasure meeting you.”
Dr. Jiménez narrowed her eyes, appraising him, more like the long-time family friend than the average obstetrician looking out for her patient. Still, the doctor politely shook his hand before turning her attention to Rosa. “¿Estás segura que él puede quedarse?”
He chafed at the switch to Spanish. Equally as unhappy with himself and the Rosetta Stone Spanish language computer program he’d bought, but had only dabbled with.
Rosa flicked a quick glance at him, then back to the doctor. “Yes, I’m fine if he stays.”
Jeremy’s shoulders relaxed. He tipped his head in thanks to Rosa.
“Bueno, let’s take a look.” Dr. Jiménez stepped to the sink. She made quick work of washing her hands, then moved back to the exam table. “Based on our phone conversation on Monday and the blood test you took afterwards, I understand we have a new development.”
She cut a stern stare Jeremy’s way.
He responded with a strained smile.
On the drive over Rosa had mentioned that Dr. Jiménez had been giving the Fernandez sisters their annual check-ups since their teen years, so he completely expected the doc’s solicitous attitude. But this parental vibe . . . he swallowed unc
omfortably . . . that made him feel like a horny teen caught with his pants down.
He’d been to enough family events and celebrations as a friend of the Fernandezes over the past few years to witness how close knit the Latino community was. How protective they were of each other, in a good way.
Wait until word got out about Rosa’s pregnancy. The church ladies and Reynaldo’s old music buddies, lovingly known as the girls’ tías and tíos—aunts and uncles, though not by blood—would be ready to tar and feather him. Or whatever they did on the Island to punish gringos who disrespected their daughters.
Jeremy might be nervous, but he was also undeterred. They wouldn’t run him off. Nope. He was sticking to Rosa like, well, like tar.
“So, you two are together?” Dr. Jiménez asked.
“Not really.”
“Kind of,” Jeremy answered at the same time as Rosa.
The older woman paused in drying her hands, then reworded her question and continued. “So you two were together around . . .”
“Late September,” Rosa said.
“September twenty-sixth,” Jeremy answered.
The doc shot him an amused glance.
Rosa gawked at him with a look that clearly asked, “What’s up with you?”
Jeremy shrugged. So he had a photographic memory. He could actually picture his calendar right now. Including the tiny star he’d added in the upper right-hand corner of the box marked September twenty-sixth.
“Based on our phone conversation earlier this week, it’s safe to say you’re not doing too well, ha, nena?” Dr. Jiménez asked.
Rosa sighed, her thin shoulders rising and falling under her lavender-colored sweater. “I’m okay.”
“What’s been going on?”
“I’ve been feeling a little sick.”
“A little? She’s been throwing up almost nonstop,” Jeremy added when it didn’t appear that Rosa planned to elaborate. He knew she didn’t generally like to complain, but this could be serious. “She can’t keep anything down.”
“Hey, I invited you because you said you wanted to be a part of this. But I’ll send you to the reception area if you’re going to rat me out,” Rosa warned him.
Her Perfect Affair Page 8
