Yeah, he thought with a scowl, and she would die before admitting it.
“It’s a good thing all the family’s gone,” his mother said, starting to rise from her chair. “I’ll go home, change the sheets, give your old room a quick cleaning and—”
He extended his hand to stop her. “Mom, it’s not necessary. I’m going to be staying at Mike’s place until he and Michelle get back. By then, I’ll have found a place of my own.”
“Don’t be silly. If you don’t start your job for two more weeks, then you won’t have a paycheck for nearly a month. There’s no need for you to be spending your money—”
Antonio laid his hand on his wife’s arm and tugged her back into her seat. “He’s a grown man, Luisa,” he gently reminded her. “He’s too old to be living at home. He’s used to being on his own. And he’s perfectly capable of budgeting his money so that he doesn’t get into a bind.”
She gave both of them dismayed looks. “No child of mine will ever be too old to live in my home.”
“I’ll be around, Mom,” Nick said with a chuckle. “You’ll see so much of me that you’ll get tired of the sight of me.”
“That’ll never happen,” she insisted. “From the moment you were born, when the nurse laid you in my arms, I’ve always found such pleasure just looking at you. You’re my first, my oldest. You’ve always been special because of that.”
He wondered if he would feel that way, if Amelia Rose would always be special because she was the first. When she had brothers and sisters — something he fully intended, even if Faith did seem resigned to having only the one — would he always feel a little differently about her?
“Even as a baby, you would do that — go from smiling to serious in the space of a heartbeat,” Luisa said, reaching out to pat his hand. “What were you thinking just now?”
Before he could come up with some answer other than the truth, one of the waitresses showed a party of young women to a table on the opposite side of the dining room. He wouldn’t even have noticed them if it hadn’t been for a flash of long light brown hair and the unnatural — but somehow still graceful — gait of the woman in the middle. Faith and friends. He was surprised that she would set foot in the Russo family restaurant knowing that he was back in town. It must have been someone else’s idea, and she hadn’t found a way to politely decline.
Following his gaze, Luisa twisted in her seat to look. Amused, she made a chastising sound. “New Hope has its share of unattached women, but those girls aren’t among them. They’re all either married or about to be married. In fact, they’re here celebrating Wendy’s birthday and her engagement to Travis Donovan.” She gave him a sly look. “See, some sons don’t mind making their parents happy by settling down.”
“I am settled,” he said absently before pointing out, “Faith isn’t married. She’s about as unattached as a woman can get.”
The odd silence at the table finally drew his attention back to his folks. They were looking at him, his father’s expression blank, his mother’s puzzled and just a little worried. “Unattached?” his father repeated. “She’s pregnant.”
He glanced back at the half-round booth as the women pushed and pulled the table to one side to make room for Faith on the other, and he grinned. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to miss.”
“Nick, Faith isn’t that sort of girl,” his mother said quietly, seriously, making him look at her once more.
Normally, from his mother “that sort of girl” meant exactly what some people in town thought Faith was: easy. Shameless. Immoral. In her kitchen Thanksgiving afternoon, Luisa had implied that Faith was that. She should be ashamed of herself, Luisa had declared — and so should the man responsible for her condition. If she’d known she was talking about her own son... He cowardly backed away from the thought and asked, “What sort, Mom?”
“The sort that you like. She’s sweet and kind and generous. Everyone loves her. You couldn’t ask for a better friend. She’d do anything for anyone.”
Interesting. He’d never known that his mother described the women he dated with the same judgmental phrase that she used for the local shameless hussies. Keeping his voice carefully steady, he commented, “You make her sound like a saint.”
“She practically was,” Antonio answered. “At least, until she got pregnant.”
And that had changed her in his father’s eyes, and his mother’s, as well. How many other people had changed their opinions of Faith because of what he had done? Exactly how much had those few forgotten hours cost her?
“So are you warning me away from her because you like her so much or because she was so foolish as to get pregnant without getting married first?”
Both parents looked more than a little embarrassed as his mother answered, “Faith is a good woman, but she’s different. That old woman who raised her had such strict rules. She was cold, rigid, unforgiving. She was so obsessed with keeping Faith from repeating her mother’s mistake that she never allowed her a chance to be a normal child. She’s never had much experience. She never dated much and never had a serious boyfriend.”
“She’s old-fashioned, Nick.” His father took over. “Naive. If you paid her attention, she would likely think it meant something when everyone else would know you were just having fun.”
Was that what had happened nine months ago? he wondered. Had she believed their time together was something special, something real? Had she thought he would call her, come back to her, build a serious, maybe even permanent, relationship with her?
“She’s vulnerable,” Antonio continued. “She’s not someone you amuse yourself with. It would be too easy to hurt her. Besides... there’s the baby.”
“No one knows who the father is, not even her friends.” His mother gestured toward the table of women, and Nick glanced that way. If Faith had noticed him yet, she hadn’t let it show. The blond woman beside her, though, was looking his way. She had introduced herself as Wendy that first day in the shop, and she had stayed with Faith when she’d fainted, watching her, fussing over her and, he would bet from her expression, accepting her confidences. Maybe none of the rest of them knew he was the father of Faith’s baby, but Wendy did.
Turning back to his parents once more, he forced a laugh. “What is it with you guys? I make a simple statement that Faith isn’t married and you automatically assume that I’m going to use her for a little fun, then break her heart. I promise you, I’m not the least bit interested in that.” God’s honest truth. He was interested in marrying her, in making a home with her for their daughter, in making a future for all three of them.
It hurt just a little, though, that the possibility that he could be serious about Faith had obviously never crossed his parents’ minds. That they automatically believed his only interest in a sweet, kind, generous woman was in using her for his own entertainment, then discarding her. That, in spite of their disapproval of the choices she’d made, they felt the need to protect her from him. That they had so little respect for him.
It hurt even more to know that, when he told them the truth, he would be proving them right. He had used Faith, had taken advantage of her, had seduced her, and then literally forgotten her. It hadn’t been a conscious decision — he hadn’t voluntarily decided to wipe an entire evening from his memory — but he had to wonder, if he hadn’t been so drunk, if he would have done the same thing. If he’d been sober—or reasonably so — would he have made love with her? He would like to think the answer was no, that he would have a little better sense than that. But he had been alone a long time back in February, and she was an incredibly pretty woman, so fragile and feminine. If she had shown the slightest interest, if, as she had claimed last night, she had felt the same desire he obviously had...
He would have made love to her, and he would have returned to Houston the next morning, assuming that it was over, that it had been nothing more than what it appeared to be: two mature adults choosing to indulge themselves in one night of good sex. He probably
wouldn’t have called her — probably, he was ashamed to admit, wouldn’t even have given her another thought. At least, until time for the wedding came, bringing with it the possibility of another damned near anonymous night of sex.
He was no better than everyone thought the stranger who had abandoned their sweet, innocent Faith was.
Rising from the table, he gave his mother a kiss and his father a hug. “I have to take care of a few things,” he said, keeping his gaze focused tightly on them and away from the booth across the room. “Thanks for the lunch, Pop. It was great, as usual. Mom, I’ll call you.”
It was nearly five o’clock when Beth pulled a stack of hangers from Faith’s hands and gave her a little push toward the storeroom. “Do yourself and the baby a favor. Go home early. Build a fire, curl up in that big old rocker and dream away the evening. No one else is going to be out in weather like this. I can close up and do the deposit.”
Faith glanced out at the street. It had been dreary all day, either raining or threatening to do so, and it was just cold enough to make Beth’s suggestion tempting. She didn’t know why the weather today had made her so blue. She liked cloudy, rainy days as much as she liked bright sun, snow, thunderstorms and spring breezes. She never got depressed over the weather.
Which meant it probably wasn’t the weather. It was probably the fact that she was only days from Amelia Rose’s scheduled appearance. The closer she got to her due date, the heavier and clumsier her body seemed to get. This morning she hadn’t even wanted to get out of bed. Even though she’d slept a solid eight hours, every part of her being had ached for another hour of rest — or two or four. Getting dressed had exhausted her. Walking down the stairs had been a chore. She had opened the shop, gone into the storeroom to put up her coat and purse, and had wound up resting on the couch until her first customer had sounded the bell over the door forty-five minutes later.
But it probably wasn’t that, either. Amelia Rose’s due date being so close meant that she could arrive at any time now, Dr. Austin had announced at this morning’s checkup. The date, he’d needlessly reminded her, was merely an estimate. The baby could be several days early or several days late. She could even be born tonight, and that was an event to anticipate. It was cause to be happy, not down.
She was probably blue, she admitted grudgingly, because here it was nearly five o’clock and, except for a glimpse at lunch, she hadn’t seen Nick all day. She hadn’t acknowledged him last night when he’d said he would see her today, but somewhere deep inside, she had been waiting for him all day. Every time the bell had sounded, she had expectantly looked up, only to be disappointed.
It wasn’t that she wanted to see him, she quickly insisted. Hadn’t she tried her best to talk her friends out of going to Antonio’s on the off chance that he might be there? Her days were much more peaceful without his intrusions. It was just that she had expected him to come, and that was why she was reluctant to follow Beth’s suggestion. Two of his three visits to the shop had been right at closing time. What if that was when he intended to come today?
He knew where she lived, she thought with a frown, and even if he didn’t, Beth would be happy to give him directions. If he really wanted to see her, he could come to the house. That was where she would prefer such a meeting to take place, anyway, away from curious eyes.
“Earth to Faith,” Beth teased in a singsong voice. “Go and get your coat, go out the back door, and go home.”
“All right,” she said, smiling when she saw the surprise in her assistant’s eyes. “You thought I would say no, didn’t you? That’ll teach you to make such an offer again.”
Squeezing around the cardboard carton of sleepers that she’d been unpacking, she made her way into the back. There had been a time, she thought with a sigh, when pulling on her coat had been a simple task — one arm here, the other there, voilà. Not so anymore. One arm went here quite easily, but getting the other there required effort, and voilà was definitely out. The coat, once roomy enough to make her look like an underfed waif, just barely fit across her stomach. Fortunately for Amelia Rose, the portion of Faith’s anatomy that received exposure was well-insulated by nature.
“Thanks a lot, Beth,” she called as she lifted her hair free of the collar, then slung the strap of her handbag over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Beth popped into the open doorway. “Take care. And if anything happens tonight, let me know.”
With a wave, Faith let herself out the back door, locked it securely behind her, then crossed the small parking lot to her car. She was looking forward to a nice, quiet evening. She would put on her favorite flannel nightgown and fuzzy slippers, heat a bowl of homemade stew in the microwave, build a fire, tuck herself into Amelia Rose’s rocker and catch a comedy or two on TV. At nine o’clock, when the not-for- family dramas came on, she would drag herself up the stairs, go to bed and sleep the night away.
Unless, as Beth had put it, anything happened.
The thought made her stomach a little queasy. She was excited, sure, but underneath all those quivers of anticipation and all that incredible longing to hold her baby in her arms, there was fear, too. Would Amelia Rose take her time, allowing Faith to get herself to the hospital with a little dignity, or would she be impatient to see the world? Would Faith be able to manage on her own or — after all her insistence that she didn’t need anyone else — would she have to ask for help? Wendy had told her to call her the moment labor began and she would drop whatever she was doing and rush over. But Faith wasn’t one to ask for help, not unless it was absolutely unavoidable. And if she was going to ask for help, didn’t she sort of owe it to Nick to ask him?
Wriggling into the front seat, she started the engine and switched on the windshield wipers, then waited for the heater to send welcomed warmth into the small car. She hated to admit it because she loved her friend dearly, because she’d spent so much time trying to convince Nick that there was no place in their lives for him, and because it just seemed such a weak female thing, but she suspected she would feel more comfortable calling Nick than any one else, even Wendy. He was a cop, trained to handle the unexpected, calm in a crisis. He was Amelia Rose’s father, and he wanted to be there when she was born.
And, no matter how badly things had turned out, no matter how deep her disillusionment, he was still the man who had once, for a very short time, made her believe in magic.
He was also, she pointed out to herself in a no-nonsense manner, the man who had promised to come by and see her today — the same man who hadn’t shown.
The drive home was short and easy, but long enough to get her mind on the comforts that awaited her there. She was anticipating them so much that she almost didn’t notice the pickup parked on the curving brick drive. She couldn’t miss the sudden butterflies in her stomach, though, or the perceptible lightening of her mood. Damn him, he shouldn’t affect her like this. After the past nine months, he shouldn’t have this sort of power over her. He shouldn’t be able to leave her hanging all day long, then brighten her entire day by showing up at his convenience at her house.
But he could. God help her, he could.
She parked at the end of the veranda in her usual place and tried to ignore the rain as she climbed the steps to the roof’s protection. He was sitting in the wicker rocker, apparently oblivious to the chill, her evening paper open but unread in his lap.
“You’re home early,” he needlessly announced.
She approached him, clutching her keys tightly in one, hand, brushing the rain from her hair with the other. “Beth thought it would be a good idea if I came home early and let her close up.”
“Funny. I made the same suggestion a few days ago and you acted offended.”
“I didn’t act offended.”
“Yes, you did. You launched into a tirade about how complete strangers think they know what’s best for you.”
She almost smiled at the image his words conjured. “I might have been frustra
ted or exasperated or even a little moody, but I do not indulge in tirades. I’m too polite.”
He did smile, a flash of white in the quickly darkening evening. “You are, huh?”
“Isn’t that what they say about me? ‘Sweet Faith. She’s such a nice girl, so well mannered, so polite.’ I don’t raise my voice, I don’t lose my temper, and I’m never rude — except on occasion with you, but that’s your fault.”
“Why, you’re just about perfect, aren’t you?” He rose from the rocker, took the keys from her before she realized he was coming close and unlocked the front door. After opening it, he waited for her to pass through, and when she did, he politely contradicted her. “The old crones said you were rude to them.”
The old... She smiled in the dimly lit hall as she shrugged out of her coat. Misses Agnes, Ethel and Minny. But as soon as she recalled the incident when she was, indeed, rude to them, her smile faded. “They suggested that it was my Christian duty to give Amelia Rose up for adoption. They said I couldn’t possibly give her the kind of home she deserved, that there were so many suitable couples out there who would raise her in the proper environment. They said it was the least I could do for her after the shameful way I’d brought her into the world.”
Nick took her coat and hung it on the wooden tree, then added his own jacket. “And what did you say?”
“That they would burn in hell before I would ever give up my baby. They said that poor Lydia was shuddering in her grave at the proof of how grievously I’d failed her, but, after all, blood will tell. My mother had been shameless, and apparently so was I. I showed them to the door and told them not to come back.”
“But they were there Friday.”
She shrugged. “They stayed away maybe a week, and then it was business as usual. They love to shop for their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and I don’t turn away regular customers.” Laying her purse on the hall table, she went into the parlor and straight to the fireplace. Before she’d moved even one log to the grate, Nick was there, brushing her aside, kneeling to lay the fire. “They’re really nice old ladies,” she said with a sigh, watching him work. “They just love to talk and pass judgment. Some people listen to them, but most are amused by them. I guess I just discovered that it’s not so easy to be amused when you’re the one they’re passing judgment on.”
Discovered: Daddy Page 16
