A Long Way From Eden

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A Long Way From Eden Page 5

by Jana Richards


  They spent the next half hour deciding what Erin would learn to cook, with Meg helping her make a grocery list of the ingredients they'd need.

  "Maybe if I get good at this, you could teach me to make something a little fancier for Tom," Erin said.

  "You don't have cook fancy for Tom," Meg said with a grin. "He'll eat pretty much anything."

  Erin's face remained thoughtful. "I just want to show him I can do something right, that I'm not a total screw up." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "It's my fault I got pregnant. I told him I was on the pill when I wasn't. I didn't even think about getting pregnant."

  Meg took Erin's hand and closed her eyes, a flood of memories surging back. Though their circumstances were vastly different, she hadn't been prepared for the reality of pregnancy either.

  "I have to make it up to Tommy. My Dad went a little crazy when he found out I was pregnant and he just absolutely insisted we get married. I knew Tommy didn't want to, but he was trying so hard to do the right thing. I should have said no to my Dad right from the start because I knew Tommy wasn't happy."

  "What about you, Erin? Do you want to get married?"

  She lowered her head and put a hand protectively over her abdomen. Finally she looked up at Meg, her gaze open and direct. "I would never make Tommy do something he didn't want to do. I would like us to be together, but only if it's what he really wants. I just want him to be happy."

  And then Meg understood. Erin loved her son. Not a schoolgirl's adolescent crush, but a woman's love, deep and unselfish. She loved Tommy enough to let him go.

  Meg sagged against her seat, still holding Erin's hand. Though Erin had made mistakes, the biggest one not using any protection, she was exhibiting a maturity far beyond her years. Her heart began to pound. Somehow, this made everything different.

  "I think we have one more thing to buy," she said, trying to control the tremor in her voice. "Everything we've bought today has been for the baby. I think it's time to get something for you, something that makes you feel wonderful and special. My treat."

  Erin smiled, her eyes shining with emotion. "I'd like that. Thank you."

  They gathered their things and headed toward the maternity shop on the second level of the mall. While Erin tried on different outfits, Meg wondered if her son could ever love his pregnant girlfriend nearly as much as she loved him, and what would happen if he couldn't.

  * * * *

  Meg set a pot of water on the stove to boil the pasta. Tom would be home soon from his construction job. If the last week was any indication, he'd be ravenous. Her own appetite lagged far behind, partly as a result of the snack she'd had that afternoon and partly due to Erin's revelations. Had she been wrong to insist that Tom and Erin not marry?

  She opened a jar of spaghetti sauce, not feeling up to cooking from scratch tonight. No matter how Erin felt, a one-sided love was doomed from the start. Tom wasn't ready for marriage and if he were forced into it, even if he started out with noble intentions, he'd grow to resent Erin and the baby. She'd lived through the exact same scenario.

  Would he also grow into an abuser?

  She shook her head, instantly dispelling the thought. No, her son was a good, kind, gentle man who took his responsibilities seriously and knew right from wrong. But then she'd once thought the same about his father.

  Tom opened the door at that moment. Just for a second he looked so much like his father that Meg's breath caught in her throat. Tom was dark where Paul was fair, but his height, the width of his shoulders, even the way he held his head, was his father all over again.

  She blinked a couple of times. Erin's pregnancy brought back memories of her own. All the emotions and fears of that time kept intruding on the present. She'd built a good life for herself and Tom with a new family that loved and supported them. The past was irrelevant to the person she was now. Why couldn't it just stay dead and buried?

  "Supper will be a few minutes. You look like you could use a shower." Meg wrinkled her nose in mock derision. "You smell like it too."

  Tom grinned. "Okay, I'll get cleaned up. Wouldn't want to offend the cook."

  Ten minutes later they sat at their small kitchen table, eating pasta. Meg pushed the food around her plate, wondering how long it would be just the two of them together. Tom was twenty years old and had just finished his third year of university. Regardless of what happened with Erin, there'd soon come a time when he'd want to be out on his own. The thought was unsettling. She'd never once in her life lived by herself.

  "I went shopping with Erin this afternoon," she said, chasing away the disquieting thoughts.

  Tom stopped in mid-chew to look at her. "You did? How come?"

  "She wanted me to help her get things ready for the baby." Meg described some of the things they'd bought. "She wants to turn a spare room in their house into a nursery for the baby. Maybe you can help with the painting."

  Tom swallowed his pasta. "Yeah, I can do that."

  "Erin's a nice girl."

  "Yeah."

  "This is your baby too, you know."

  Tom put down his fork. "You think I don't know that? I haven't thought about much else in the last couple of months. I said I'd be responsible for this baby and I won't go back on my word."

  Meg put a hand on his arm. "I know that, honey. But how do you feel about the baby's mother?"

  "I don't know." Tom pushed his plate away. "I mean, I like Erin. She's a great person, a lot of fun, and she's smart too. I care about her, especially since she's having my baby, but I don't know if I'm in love with her." He picked up his spoon, tapping it with nervous energy against the table. "I'm angry with her, too. If she hadn't lied about being on the pill, this wouldn't have happened."

  "Yes, she made a mistake, but she didn't get pregnant all by herself."

  Tom flushed. "Yeah, I know."

  "Erin needs you right now to help her get through this. She and the baby are going to be part of your life from now on. You have to figure out how big a part Erin will play in it." Meg was afraid Erin's heart would be broken.

  "I know I don't want my kid growing up without a dad like I did."

  Meg felt the stab of pain she always felt for that loss. "I know."

  "Do you think..." He stared across the room.

  "What?"

  He sighed and looked at her once more. "Do you think my father would be disappointed in how I turned out?"

  Meg reached for his hand. "Of course not, Tom. He would have been so proud of you, just like I am."

  It hurt to know she hadn't been able to fill all the spaces in Tom's life. She'd tried her best to be both a mom and a dad to him, and with the help of their adopted family, she'd believed she succeeded. But it was obvious now that Tom had never forgotten that his family picture was incomplete.

  "I've been thinking about him a lot lately, and I thought I'd like to visit the place where he lived. Maybe I can look up some of his relatives or friends."

  Meg's gut twisted and she forced back the panic that clawed at her throat. This was the reason she'd invented the fantasy family for Tom. What if he found out the truth about his father, and about her?

  "There's no one there anymore, Tom. His parents are gone and he was an only child. What would be the point?"

  Tom got up from the table. "The point is that he was my father and I don't know anything about him, aside from the stories you've told me. I need to know who he was, where I came from."

  His determination only made Meg feel more desperate. She jumped out of her chair and went to him, placing both her hands on either side of his face and forcing him to look in her eyes. "You know who you are, Tom. You're a good person, a good friend, and a wonderful son. That's all you need to know."

  He shook his head. "You've never actually told me the name of the town in Saskatchewan where you and Dad grew up. Why is it such a secret?"

  "It's not a secret." Meg turned away so he couldn't see the anxiety that she knew showed on her face. She clutched her trembl
ing hands together. "It's just that I don't like to think of it. I left because the memories were too painful and I just wanted to forget."

  "You don't have the right to make that decision for both of us."

  "Please, Tommy." Meg lowered her head. "Don't push me on this."

  He retrieved the keys to the car from a hook beside the front door. "I think I'm going to go out for a drive. Maybe it will help clear my head."

  Meg began to gather the dishes, grateful for something to do with her hands. Tom's pasta was barely half eaten. "Okay. I'll see you later."

  He grabbed a jacket and headed out the door. Meg sank into her chair as soon as he left. She couldn't let Tom discover the truth about their past. It would destroy him. She covered her face with her hands. No, that wasn't quite true.

  What would destroy him, destroy them both, was if Tom discovered their life had been a lie.

  * * * *

  Zane waited in his car outside Meg's apartment, feeling like a stalker. He sipped his coffee from a paper cup, wondering how he'd apologize this time. Why did he keep messing things up with her?

  He thought of the kiss they'd shared and knew why his normal thinking processes were on hold. Her kiss had blown all the electrical circuits in his brain. Just thinking it about now aroused him.

  He remembered how soft she was as she melted against him, the scent of flowers in her hair. He also remembered how he'd grabbed her like some hormonal teenager. Zane admitted he was rusty when it came to women, but he'd thought he had a little more finesse than that.

  Meg walked through the front door. Zane jumped out of his car and sprinted towards her, not bothering to close the car door.

  "Meg, wait."

  She stopped and turned towards him, her whole body stiffening. He hated that he scared her, or worse, repelled her. When he came to a stop in front of her he realized he didn't have a clue as to what he wanted to say. In the end she spoke first.

  "Is Erin all right?"

  Zane sighed and looked heavenward, hoping the clouds might have a few answers for him. "Erin's fine. It's me who has the problem."

  Her face pinkened. "Is it?"

  "I'm here to apologize again. You must be getting tired of hearing me say I'm sorry."

  Meg's lip twitched, and then curved into a smile. "Actually, no. I'm starting to enjoy it."

  Zane grinned, relieved that she managed to find some humor in the situation. "I really am sorry, Meg. I shouldn't have grabbed you like that."

  She nodded. "Apology accepted. I have to be going. Tom's got the car today so I've got a bus to catch."

  "I'll drive you."

  She tensed once more, probably remembering that the last time he'd offered her a ride he'd taken advantage of her. "It's not necessary. The bus stop isn't far."

  "It's no big deal." He tried to make his voice sound casual. "I practically go right by the restaurant on the way to my office. But if you're nervous about driving with me I understand."

  Her eyes narrowed, and then her chin came up. "Of course I'm not nervous. We've got bigger things to worry about than some stupid kiss."

  Her critique of his kissing ability stung a little, but at least she was speaking to him. She was right about them having bigger things to worry about. As she got into the car, he asked, "How's Tom?"

  She seemed to hesitate a little before answering. "He's okay, just a little stressed out right now. He had some tough courses this semester and he's pretty anxious to find out how he did on them. And of course there's impending fatherhood."

  "My foreman tells me he's doing well at work. He's only been there a week, but he works hard, pays attention to instructions, gets along well with the crew."

  "You've been keeping tabs on him?"

  He felt no need for an apology this time. "Yeah, I have. For the record I still think they should get married."

  Meg sighed. "Let's not do this again."

  "What would be the point? Everyone thinks I'm wrong."

  They drove in silence until Meg finally spoke. "Erin told me she'd like to paint the baby's room."

  "Yeah, I know. I haven't had time to do it and I don't want Erin up on a ladder."

  "Tom could do it."

  Zane glanced at Meg but she kept looking forward, her expression unreadable. "I hadn't thought of that."

  She turned to look at him. "I've been thinking about it a lot. It's time he started taking this fatherhood thing seriously."

  "I'll get Erin to call him."

  "Good."

  The rest of the drive was accomplished in silence. Zane pulled up to the restaurant and shifted into neutral.

  Meg turned to him, extending her hand "Thanks for the ride, Zane. And the apology."

  He looked down at her hand a moment before taking it in his. "No problem."

  The air crackled between them in the small confines of the car. Zane's blood pounded through his brain. Her saw her eyes go wide with surprise, as if whatever affected him had hit her too.

  She quickly pulled her hand from his, her teeth biting her bottom lip. "I have to go," she whispered. She slid out of the car quickly and ran into the restaurant.

  Zane sat behind the wheel staring for several moments in the direction she'd fled. Why did she keep running away? At times the attraction between them flared to a white-hot flame. Unfortunately, it always cooled just as quickly, with Meg retreating from him as if they'd done something wrong. It was as if she felt guilty.

  Zane pondered that thought. Had she loved Tommy's father so much that she simply couldn't see herself with anyone else? She'd been alone for a long time. Had no one else measured up? He didn't know if he liked the idea of competing with a ghost.

  After a moment he put the car into gear and pulled out into traffic. He decided he was sorry for grabbing Meg like an adolescent, but he definitely wasn't sorry about kissing her. Something told him she was worth getting to know. He promised himself that the next time he kissed her he wouldn't have to apologize for it.

  Chapter Five

  "Am I doing this right, Meg?"

  Zane watched as Erin carefully brushed brown paint onto the Teddy bear stencil that she'd taped on a bookshelf for the baby's room. Meg crossed the bedroom to watch her, putting a maternal hand on her shoulder. A lump rose in Zane's throat. He knew how much Meg's attention meant to Erin right now. He'd tried his best to understand her feelings, but only another woman who'd been in the same situation could truly appreciate what she was going through.

  Zane put the tray he was carrying on an old paint spattered chair. "Snack time guys. You've got to eat to keep those artistic juices flowing."

  Tom set his brush in the paint tray and grabbed a sandwich. "Thanks Zane. I'm starved." He demolished it in three bites and took another.

  "Dad, I'll bet you didn't know I was so talented, did you?" Erin said with a grin.

  "I've always known you were artistic. When you were three you drew a very impressive abstract on the living room wall. Even the guys who repainted the room thought it was great." Zane handed her a glass of milk. "Drink."

  Erin gave a mock salute. "Aye, aye, sir."

  Zane turned to Meg. "Why don't you take a break? I just made a fresh pot of coffee."

  Meg smiled. "Sure. I'm finished taping around the woodwork anyway. These two should be able to handle the rest."

  Zane led the way to the living room where he'd set two mugs of coffee on a side table along with a bowl of fresh fruit and a plate of sandwiches. He motioned towards the food. "Help yourself."

  "Thanks. I'm starved." She poured milk into her coffee and stirred it, then selected a sandwich. Sitting back against the leather sofa, she looked around the room. "You have some interesting things."

  "Yeah, I guess so."

  Meg swallowed before speaking. "You guess so? What do you mean?"

  Zane shrugged. "I know some of the art work is actually pretty valuable because I had it appraised for insurance purposes. But a lot of the stuff I don't really like."

 
"Then why do you have it in your house?"

  "It was here when I moved in and I've just never bothered to change anything. I don't know anything about decorating."

  Meg frowned. "I don't understand."

  Zane swept out his hand to encompass the room. "This house and almost everything in it belonged to my late wife's parents. Her mother was already gone by the time I met Anna, so I never met her. She was the one who decorated the place."

  Meg sipped her coffee, her face thoughtful. "That explains a lot."

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, this place doesn't really look like you. It doesn't reflect who you are."

  Zane leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. He was interested in her answer to his next question. "And who am I?"

  She cocked her head to one side and regarded him solemnly. "Someone less formal, someone not as interested in making an impression as the person who decorated this house. Your office is more like you. It's a little bit cluttered, but it's warm and friendly. I think home and family are important to you."

  They stared at each other across the room for several long moments. Zane felt an understanding flow between them, though no words were spoken. Her perception amazed him. Even after knowing him for such a short time, she understood that the only thing that really mattered to him was his family.

  After a time, Meg lowered her head, gazing into the depths of her coffee mug.

  Zane stood. "Would you like more coffee?"

  "No thanks." She set her mug on the side table and pointed across the room to a set of closed French doors, clearly wanting to change the subject. "What's over there?"

  "The music room. My wife played the piano. Erin had lessons when she was a little girl but she had no real interest in music." He thought of how Anna had played less and less, the unhappier she became. The memory always made him sad.

  "Would it be okay if I had a look?"

  Zane brought his attention back to the present. "Of course."

  He held one of the French doors open as Meg stepped inside. She made an audible gasp, her hand fluttering to her chest. The look on her face surprised Zane. It was as if she'd just found the Holy Grail instead of the old Steinway baby grand. She ran her hands reverently over the smooth wooden top. "It's beautiful."

 

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