Discovered: Daddy

by Marilyn Pappano

  “And she should be ashamed,” Minny said quietly. “Lydia Harper was one of our dearest friends, and she taught that girl better than that. Why, she would turn in her grave if she knew what had become of her great-niece.”

  Ethel shook her head sorrowfully. “Now poor Faith has to sit in that church tomorrow, all too aware of her sins, and watch your brother and that sweet little Parker girl get married and know that her own young man didn’t want her —”

  Agnes interrupted again. “Well, except in bed.”

  “Agnes!” Ethel scolded, and the old woman’s face turned red. With a chastening look, she continued. “A person could almost feel sorry for the girl if she showed even the slightest remorse for what she’s done, but she just goes on as if nothing’s happened. Why, she wouldn’t even hear of giving the baby up for adoption to some deserving married couple who could give it a good home. We suggested that she consider it back in the beginning, and she absolutely refused.”

  “She was rude,” Agnes said, her expression turning miffed at the memory.

  “I can’t imagine anyone giving a baby a better home than Faith,” Nick said before anyone else could speak. His words, or maybe the harshness that underlaid them, made the women stop for a moment, speechless. He took advantage of the rare event to escape. “Ladies, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll say goodbye to Faith and then I have an appointment to keep.”

  They offered their own goodbyes as he made his way around racks and displays to the storeroom. He didn’t knock, didn’t hesitate at all, but opened the door, stepped inside and shut it firmly behind him. He took a moment to breathe deeply, to clear his mind of the anger the old women had created, then he focused his gaze on Faith.

  Two days ago he had carried her into this room, had laid her on the couch, checked her pulse, talked to her doctor. He had been concerned about her fainting spell only in a professional sort of way—was her time near, should he call an ambulance or take her to the hospital, or, in a worst case scenario, would he have to help deliver her baby? He had done it once before, more or less, back when he was in uniform. A frantic man with a flat tire had flagged him down three miles from the nearest hospital. Nick had called for an ambulance, then gone to the guy’s car to check on his wife and had gotten there in time to catch the kid. It had been an interesting experience—a little unnerving, a lot different—but no big deal.

  Just as carrying Faith in here, checking her and talking to her doctor had been no big deal. But if he had known then what he knew now...

  She was standing in front of a small window at the back of the room. Its view was nothing special—a parking lot and the back of some business on the next street—but she was staring at it intensely. Then she lowered her head and rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry to keep running out on you, Beth,” she said with a sigh. “I just can’t deal with those nosy old women now.”

  “I don’t know how you deal with them at all.”

  Startled, she turned quickly to face him, then her shoulders seemed to sag a bit. “I can’t deal with you, either. Not today. Not here.”

  “I just came to tell you that I’ll see you tomorrow at the wedding.” Remembering what the old ladies had said, he asked, “You are coming to the wedding, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good. Michael and Michelle would be disappointed if you weren’t.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  Because he would be disappointed if she wasn’t there, and Michael and Michelle knew her much better—if differently — than him. “You’re friends,” he said with a shrug. “You held their engagement party at your house.”

  His answer didn’t ease her frown, but she accepted it with a nod before leaning back to rest against the windowsill. He watched her a moment longer, then asked, “Why don’t you go home and stretch out on that chaise with your teddy bear friend and take a nap?”

  Her matter-of-fact tone indicated that she’d heard similar suggestions before. “I can’t leave Beth here alone. It’s been too busy.”

  “No offense, Faith, but you’ve been leaving her to deal with customers anyway. She seems perfectly capable to me.” The last part was actually just a guess. Other than noticing that her clerk was young, blond and sported multiple earrings in each ear, he hadn’t paid her much attention. But, based on what he knew of Faith, Beth was undoubtedly the single most mature, responsible teenager in New Hope, or she wouldn’t be working here. “Go home.”

  She shook her head in exasperation. “What is it about being pregnant? It’s as if I’ve become public property. Complete strangers tell me horror stories about their own childbirth experiences. Everyone feels entitled to give me advice. Everyone thinks they know what’s best for me. People I’ve never even shaken hands with want to touch my stomach and feel the baby move. I’m pregnant, not stupid. I’m capable of recognizing when I’m tired, when I need to rest, when I should get off my feet. I’m smart enough to know that giving birth isn’t a piece of cake, that it can be long, drawn-out and painful. And I no more want people putting their hands on my stomach now than I did before I got pregnant. Heavens!”

  Nick lost track somewhere in the middle of her speech, distracted by one sentence. People I’ve never even shaken hands with want to touch my stomach and feel the baby move. He had never felt an unborn baby move before, not even one of his nieces and nephews. He had never thought that he’d have any such desire. But he had never thought that one day there would be his unborn child. It was his baby moving inside her, and he wondered how it felt to actually feel her stretch, turn and kick. Other people knew. Faith surely knew. But he didn’t have a clue.

  Silence penetrated his thoughts, making him realize that she was finished, that she was giving him an odd look that he could feel without seeing. He looked away from the swelling of her stomach, cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’d better go now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She sighed before he walked through the door. The last thing he heard was a subdued agreement. “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  Saturday was as beautiful a wedding day as any bride could want. The sun was shining, the temperature was hovering in the high sixties, there was a gentle breeze blowing, and the sky was a gorgeous Texas blue. It was a day perfect for walking down the aisle or along a country road, for dancing at a reception or scuffing in fallen leaves around the lake. It was too perfect a day, Faith thought, for putting on a tent-size dress, panty hose and the dressiest flats she owned and spending the next few hours pretending to share the Russo-Parker family joy.

  But pretend she would. She had no doubt that, if she weren’t in her seat at least fifteen minutes before the one o’clock service, Wendy or one of her other friends would be on the phone or in the car headed this way. They would think something terrible must have happened to keep her from Michelle’s wedding—that she’d fallen or gone into labor or something—and they would probably send out the cavalry.

  Besides, there would be talk if she didn’t show up for any reason other than ongoing labor. The three old biddies would tell everyone who would listen that her reluctance was due to a heart broken by the unfeeling cad who’d rejected her. She’d heard it all before.

  Well, today she wasn’t giving them anything to use against her. She was going to the wedding, she was going to be happy for Michelle and Michael, and she was going to enjoy herself, even if it killed her.

  And putting on those shoes just might do it.

  Sitting on the side of the bed, she gazed forlornly at her feet. Once they’d been small, even delicate. She’d worn strappy, slender heels without even a pinch of pain—but only after Lydia’s death, of course. Her great-aunt had believed in sensible shoes and sensible clothing. “Stylish” hadn’t been in the old lady’s vocabulary, but “serviceable” and “durable” had. Today, though, her feet were swollen and refused to even consider the possibility of being crammed into the widest, flattest shoes she had. No pointed toes or graceful shap
es for her, she thought, getting to her feet and going to the closet for her reliable, stretched-out, cushioned-sole loafers.

  Not expecting much, she stood in front of the full-length mirror mounted on the inside of the closet door. Her dress was pretty, dark green, with little trim. Her hose were serviceable. She hadn’t had the energy to try to wiggle her nine-months-pregnant body into the sheer, elegant styles she preferred. The best she could say for the shoes was that they were leather. They had passed “well-worn” months ago. Her only jewelry was a necklace and a pair of hoop earrings. Her watch fit too snugly, and the few rings she owned wouldn’t slide past her first knuckle.

  The Russo-Parker wedding was the event of the season for the whole town, and she looked like Jumbo the elephant—make that Dumbo, she corrected—in a circus tent.

  Turning away from the mirror, she picked up her small, flat handbag and started toward the door just as the doorbell rang. For an instant she wondered if it might be Nick, but the absence of tension in her stomach indicated otherwise. Listening to the echo of the second peal, she made her way downstairs, holding on to the railing with one hand. At the bottom she opened the door and faced Priss—and, in the driveway, behind the wheel of her car, her husband Jake Spencer—with suspicious surprise.

  “Oh, Faith, you look lovely,” her friend greeted her.

  “I look like Dumbo,” she retorted grumpily. With a scowl at the barely noticeable swelling of Priss’s own pregnancy, she added, “See what you have to look forward to?”

  Leaning forward, Priss patted Faith’s belly comfortingly. “I know. I can hardly wait. Come on, sweetie, Jake and I have come to take you to the church.”

  “Was this Wendy’s idea?”

  “Why would you think that?” Priss’s attempt at innocence failed.

  “Because I turned her down when she offered to pick me up. I’m going to the wedding, believe me. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.” She intended to sit through the ceremony, sail through the reception line while somehow skipping the best man, avoid all the gossips and almost everyone else, and sneak home the first chance she got—which Wendy had probably suspected and so had arranged this ride to prevent an early departure. Well, Miss Wendy was silly if she thought the mere lack of a ride would keep Faith where she didn’t want to be. Sacred Heart was less than two miles from her house, she was wearing her most comfortable shoes, and Dr. Austin said walking was great exercise for a mother-to-be.

  “Let’s go, honey. We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.” Priss tugged her arm, giving Faith only a moment to grab her keys from the hall table, only another moment to lock the door behind her.

  In the driveway Faith greeted Jake as she maneuvered into the back seat of the luxury-size car. Her own little sedan was getting to be a rather snug fit. There was precious little clearance between Amelia Rose and the steering wheel. Thank heavens it was almost time.

  Almost time. The two words made her heart ache. She was anxious for Amelia Rose to be born, to hold her own sweet little baby in her arms, but at the same time, she was a little scared, too. Despite her talk to Nick yesterday, the prospect of childbirth made her nervous. How long would it last? she wanted to know. How much would it hurt? How would it feel going through it alone?

  Dr. Austin had offered her the option of natural childbirth, and Wendy had volunteered to be her coach, but she had rejected the idea. She needed the delivery to be as easy as possible, so her recovery would be as quick as possible. After all, she would have a baby to take care of, a family to support, a business to run—and she would be doing it all on her own.

  The “on her own” part was the largest cause of her fears. She could endure the longest labor and untold pain if the right person were there to hold her hand, to offer her encouragement and to celebrate the end result. She could treasure every moment of the first days of Amelia Rose’s life if she didn’t have to worry about a fast recovery, about going home alone with her new baby, about getting back to the shop in a few weeks. She could forget the fear completely if she just had someone beside her. Priss had Jake. Valerie and Lucas were still together and more in love than ever. And Wendy might not have technically hooked Travis in the great husband hunt, but it was coming—anyone who’d watched them together could see that—and Michelle had Michael. Faith had nobody, and since the only remote possibility in her future wanted only to use her to ease his guilty conscience, it wasn’t likely she would ever find somebody.

  The trip passed quickly, Priss providing the conversation so that Faith didn’t have to speak at all. She simply stared out the window and brooded.

  At the church Jake pulled into the east side parking lot, easing into a space near the back door that led to the classrooms. Faith had been raised a good Baptist, but many of her friends were Sacred Heart parishioners. She had attended various services as their guests, mostly weddings and baptisms. If things had turned out differently, Amelia rouse would have been baptized here.

  But things weren’t different; she admonished herself, cutting off that line of thought before it became too painful.

  Jake came around the car, opened the door and offered his hand. Faith stared at it for a moment before realizing that she was supposed to take it. No matter how roomy the car, getting in and out in her condition was always a little difficult.

  “Thank you, Jake,” she said, smiling up at him as she climbed out, then straightened.

  Movement behind him caught her attention and her smile slowly faded. Dressed for the wedding except for his jacket and looking impossibly handsome, Nick was standing on the stoop outside the back door and watching her with a level, less-than-friendly gaze.

  Jake glanced over his shoulder. “Friend of yours?”

  “No.” She moved away so he could open the front door. She knew immediately from the chagrined change in Nick’s expression when Priss joined them. Odd. What could it possibly matter to him whether she came to the wedding alone or with friends?

  He moved down to the middle step, and Faith abruptly turned away, joining Priss on the sidewalk, walking alongside her with Jake a few feet behind. “That Nick Russo is one fine-looking man, isn’t he?” Priss didn’t wait for agreement. “Mary Ann over at the salon was a couple years behind him in school. She said he was a heartbreaker even back then. He had a different girlfriend every few months—I guess he was generous that way — until his senior year. He and Dan Wilson were dating Terry and Tammy Harlot—I mean, Harland—and, according to Mary Ann, the twins were planning a double wedding right after graduation. Nick was smart enough not to get trapped, but poor Dan...”

  Faith had little sympathy to spare for poor Dan. Instead, she tried to recall everything she knew about Theresa Harland. She was prettier than her twin. She lived in Austin and had never married or had children. Occasionally she swept into New Hope for a visit, generally for some family event, and she almost always stopped in at the Baby Boutique to buy presents for Tammy’s kids. She had always been friendly in a strangers-doing-business sort of way, and, as a customer, she was darn near perfect—she didn’t shop often, but she bought a lot and paid cash. Faith had always liked her well enough.

  Now, she thought with a scowl as they climbed the broad steps, she would never be able to see the woman again without thinking of Nick and the intimacies he’d shared with her.

  At the top of the steps, the two oldest Russo grandsons held the door for them, and, inside the church, Michelle’s brothers seated them. As she settled on the padded bench, Faith found her attention drawn to the groom’s side of the church. There was the occasional friend, but most of the guests were family, many of them strangers from outside the area. They were Amelia Rose’s family, but she would never know them. She would never share holidays with all those dark-eyed kids, would never experience what being a Russo meant. She would never see these people. They would miss out on so much by not knowing her, but she would miss more in not knowing them.

  She would miss so very much more.

  Chapt
er 5

  The reception hall at the back of the church was packed, but the crowd didn’t deter Nick as he circled the perimeter. He’d stood in the reception line between his mother and Michelle’s maid of honor and shaken hundreds of hands. He’d had a piece of overly sweet cake, made a toast to the happy couple, sampled a little of his father’s cooking and talked to just about every soul he’d ever known in New Hope—except one.

  Now it was time to find that one. He knew she wouldn’t be out there among all the other guests dancing. She wouldn’t want to draw attention to herself, would probably think it improper in her condition, and he doubted that there was a man in town besides him stubborn enough to change her mind. Most likely she’d found a little table in a corner where she could pretend to be enjoying herself while escaping the notice of most guests. But so far he’d checked all four corners and all the tables in between and found no sign of her.

  Maybe she had escaped and returned to the privacy of her old house. The couple she’d come with was still here, out on the dance floor, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t found a ride with someone else or maybe even walked home. But going home early wouldn’t save her from seeing him. It wouldn’t keep her from having to deal with him—at least one more time.

  He was about to admit defeat when a movement outside caught his attention. Glass doors opened onto a small courtyard, the scene of smaller weddings in the spring when the roses were in bloom and the weather could be counted on to cooperate. There was a concrete fountain in the center and paths dividing small patches of grass on their way to the outer walls. Four wrought-iron benches faced the four points of the compass and made for cozy sitting when the day was nice.

  Today was nice. Faith thought so, too. She was standing next to the fountain, hands clasped over her stomach, sunshine on her face. Her hair was pulled back, part of it caught with a shiny silver clasp, the rest left to fall past her shoulders, over the rich green of the dress that, once more, emphasized the delicate lines of her body rather than the swelling of her pregnancy.