After a moment’s hesitation, where Glory weighed how far she wanted to step into Eric’s relationship with his child, she said, “I don’t believe he is—in the range of normal. I agree with you, something isn’t right. Do you think there’s anything the doctors will be able to do to help him?”
“I have to believe there is. The first step is to figure out exactly what’s wrong. Whatever needs to be done”—he’d been tracing his fingers along her spine, now his hand stilled—“it’s going to be important that Jill and I work together.”
Something in his voice made Glory’s skin prickle. “You don’t think I’d interfere with that?”
“I just want to be honest with you.”
She raised up and looked at him. “It’s not like we’re—”
He touched his finger to her lips. “Don’t. I’m not sure what we are, but there’s something between us. It’s not something I expected, especially right now, but Glory, it’s special. I know you feel it too.”
She nearly told him what she feared: that she was a wreck of a woman and he—hero that he was cut out to be—couldn’t help but want to save her. She did feel a special connection to him, but was it simply because she wanted to be rescued?
He shattered her doubts when he kissed her.
When he stopped, she took a deep breath, and said, “We don’t have to name it. Let’s just see where this goes.”
He kissed her again. “Fair enough.”
“I’d better be getting back to Granny’s. She has an early doctor appointment in the morning.” She suddenly felt shy as she sat up on the couch and gathered up the clothes that they’d scattered so heedlessly.
Eric found her tank top and turned it right side out, then slid it over her head, showing as much loving interest in dressing her as he had in removing her clothes. His hands were gentle, and he kissed her shoulder as he smoothed the straps in place. If she didn’t guard her heart, she’d find herself falling into the deep end for him.
We hardly know each other. Even as she had the thought, she knew in her heart that it was wrong. They hadn’t spent much time together, true, but they understood each other in ways that went beyond the few hours spent in one another’s company. They knew each other’s heaviest burdens. Of course, that was probably what made Eric so intensely interested in her—her burdens and her need drew him like the moon pulled the tides. It wasn’t pity exactly, but it certainly wasn’t a good basis for a solid relationship.
She decided to take it for what it was—comfort at the moment—and do her best to guard her heart.
After getting dressed and sliding her feet into her flip-flops, she stood, but didn’t look at him. “Good night, Eric.”
As she started to move away, he grasped her hand and pulled her back into his lap. He had his jeans on, but his T-shirt was still on the floor. Glory tried not to lean against his bare chest and kept her gaze on the door.
“Look at me, Glory.”
Reluctantly, she did. She didn’t want to be pulled back into the depths of those whiskey eyes.
He kissed her gently. “Don’t lock me out again.”
Her heart did a slow roll in her chest. The intensity of her reaction rocked her to the marrow of her bones. She was in much more danger of losing her heart than she’d thought. “I have to go.”
There was a flicker of something in his eyes that might have been disappointment, but she got up and didn’t study it too closely for fear of her own response.
Against her protests, Eric walked her to her car. Before he closed the door he leaned in and kissed her again. Then he looked at her seriously, his eyes dark in the dim glow of the car’s interior lights. “Just so you know,” he said softly, “this was the first time for me too . . . since . . .”
Before she could respond, he withdrew from the car and closed the door.
As she drove away, she looked in the rearview mirror and saw him as a silhouette against the wide fan of yellow light from the streetlamp behind him. He had his hands in his pockets and was making no move toward his house.
Hours later, Glory lay in bed in the lavender floral room at Granny’s, drifting on contentment. She recalled the weight of Eric’s warm hand over her abdomen. That time of safe intimacy had been even more precious to her than their lovemaking. Holding that feeling close to her heart, she relaxed into sleep.
Just as she released the last threads that bound her to awareness, an image exploded in her mind. Andrew’s face was nose to nose with hers. His brows were drawn in anger, his lips pulled back in a grimace as he shouted at her in a wild, guttural tone. The tone was frightening enough, but it was the words that came from his mouth that slammed her back into wakefulness.
“My decision is final. You will get that abortion!”
Glory sat up in bed, gasping, every nerve in her body buzzing. It had to be real. It had to be a memory. It was too powerful even for a nightmare.
She raised a trembling hand to her throat. “Oh, my God.” As the words rode out on her breath, the rest of that confrontation stepped out from behind the curtain that had been hiding it for over two years. What was revealed was so ugly, it was no wonder she had blocked it from her mind.
Closing her eyes, she let it come:
Her back was pressed against the kitchen counter. She leaned as far away from Andrew’s angry aggression as physically possible. Her mind kept screaming, This can’t be. He can’t possibly mean this.
But it was blindingly clear, he meant every harsh word he spit in her face.
When he’d first mentioned an abortion, she hadn’t reacted, certain that once he came to himself he’d realize what a preposterous suggestion it was.
She found her voice. “You said you’d think it over. You can’t really want this!” She’d been so sure that once the shock wore off, he’d be happy, or at the very least nervous and accepting. Never did she think he would continue on this path.
“I did think it over.” His face hardened, negating any relief she might have felt with his slight retreat from looming over her. “Do you think I really believe it was an accident? You tricked me.” She shook her head and tried to deny it, but he kept on talking. “You never should have gotten pregnant in the first place. It’s your fault—you put us in this position. Get rid of it.”
“This is a child! Your flesh and blood!” She reached for his arm, but he jerked it away. “Please, Andrew, just give it some more time. You’ll get over the shock—”
“I’ve already made the arrangements.” His voice was flat and cold, as if his anger had burned every bit of humanity from his soul.
“What!” She shook her head vehemently. “I won’t go. I will not do this. If you don’t want this child, I’ll have it alone. But I’m not getting an abortion.”
He grabbed her by both arms and hauled her against his chest. His fingers dug painfully into her flesh. “You will not ruin my life! You’re my wife. You can’t just walk out like I don’t exist.”
Glory drew her strength from the fact that the tiny life inside her depended upon her. She stopped cowering and straightened her back. “I have put up with your need to ‘wear the pants in this family,’ with your constant questioning of my whereabouts, with your unfounded jealousy. Every time you’ve asked for a compromise for the sake of our marriage, I’ve made it. Now I’m asking you to accept the child we created together—a part of our family.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
“What will your parents think if I get an abortion? You’re their only child—this is their grandchild!”
His steely expression softened momentarily. Glory grabbed on to the hope that she’d finally found a way to make him understand the gravity of what he was asking.
He killed that hope in his next breath. “They won’t think anything because they’re not going to know.”
Glory swallowed dryly. “It’s too late. I told your mother this afternoon.”
“Glory!” Granny’s voice came from the hall, accompanied by the s
ound of her hurrying feet. “Are you all right?”
Glory gulped in a great draft of air, trying to calm her nausea and slow her rapid breathing. It didn’t help.
Just as Granny opened the bedroom door, Glory bolted from the bed and ran to the bathroom. She managed to hold back being sick until she reached the toilet.
After rinsing her mouth out and splashing her face with cold water, she slowly walked back to her bedroom, feeling drained and shaky.
Granny had switched on the bedside lamp and was sitting on the edge of the bed. She’d straightened and smoothed the tangled covers and fluffed Glory’s pillow.
“Sorry, Gran. I didn’t mean to wake you.” Glory’s voice trembled with the quaking that still rocked her insides.
Granny patted the sheets. “Come on and get back in bed.” Glory did, and Granny tucked her in as if she were a small child again. “You didn’t wake me. I just snapped awake, like someone doused me with a bucket of cold water, and I knew somethin’ was terrible wrong.”
Granny touched Glory’s forehead with a cool dry hand. “No fever. Your hair’s wet with sweat, though. Maybe it’s passed. Summer flu’s quick like that.”
For a long moment, Glory was silent. Granny had been urging her to face the past—how much of that past was Granny aware of?
Granny said, “’Member how, back when you and your mama lived in that trailer in town, I always knew when you were sick? I’d just get this feelin’ and call your mama—sure ’nough I’d be right.”
“It’s not the flu.”
Granny’s gaze sharpened. “Feared it wasn’t. Felt too strong for just sick.”
After drawing a quivering breath, Glory rested her hand on her forehead and closed her eyes again. That confession to her mother-in-law had saved her baby’s life . . . at least for a while.
Just how bad had things been between her and Andrew those last months? She searched her memory for feelings as well as events. There had been a space of relative calm after that horrible day, she knew that. She’d prepared the nursery; Andrew had even gone shopping with her. Those memories had always stayed with her. Granny had been right, she’d only remembered the good.
She opened her eyes and asked the question that had to be asked. “Did you know that Andrew didn’t want the baby?”
Granny’s posture stiffened. “Andrew wasn’t a man who wanted anyone to take your attention. You never said it to me—but I figured.” She took Glory’s hand in hers. “You remembered then?”
Unable to speak, not wanting to explain, Glory just nodded.
Squeezing her hand, Granny said, “Maybe you can let the past go now there ain’t secrets left buried in your mind. You’re too young to spend the rest of your life hidin’.” After a moment she asked, “You been to his grave?”
The question seemed odd, odd enough that it took Glory a few seconds to process whose grave Granny meant. Then, with a listless shake of her head, she whispered, “No.”
“Might do you some good—now that you remember. Make peace. Let go.”
“Maybe.” She didn’t tell Granny that there were still things that were a mystery to her, things that had to be settled before she could begin to let go.
Chapter Seventeen
“MRS. MCELROY SAW Glory Harrison leaving Eric’s house late last night.” Gail Landry paused; Jill held the phone tightly and could just see the I-told-you-so expression on her mother’s face. Gail’s voice dropped to a scandalously low tone when she added, “He didn’t have a shirt on.”
The words not only set Jill’s teeth on edge—her normal reaction to her mother’s meddling—but twisted her gut with anxiety. She’d never actually considered there would be another woman in the picture. Eric had behaved like a monk since the divorce; she didn’t have a doubt that her mother and her cronies wouldn’t have missed a single liaison, especially considering their vigilant efforts in tracking his activities with Glory.
“Mom, I really don’t have time for this. I’m going to be late for work.” Jill’s impatience had nothing to do with her job. Even after the divorce, she’d been the one in charge—she’d been the one to leave, the one to end the marriage. But suddenly she felt as if she were trying to catch sifting sand with her bare hands.
“You’d better make time, or that woman’ll have her hooks in him. Maybe you should have a little chat with Glory when you pick Scott up tonight.”
“Honestly, Mother! What do you expect me to say?”
“Just that you’re trying to work things out with your husband and you’d appreciate her keeping in mind that you and Eric have a child that needs a family. She lost a baby; she’ll get it.”
“Maybe I should just pee all over him and mark my territory.” It was obvious she was going to have to do something, but her mother’s constant coaching was really getting under her skin.
“Really, Jill! Must you be so vulgar?”
“Eric and Scott are mine to worry about. I don’t need these phone calls, nor do I need you adding to the gossip around this town by taking reports from everyone who lays eyes on Eric.” Before her mother could respond, she said, “I have to go. Bye.”
She glanced at the clock. Eric didn’t go in to work until after he dropped Scott off at school on Friday mornings. She picked up the phone and dialed his number.
He answered on the first ring. “Glory?”
An electric shock shot through Jill from head to toe. She forced a smile into her voice when she said, “No, Eric, it’s Jill.”
“Oh, sorry.” There was obviously disappointment in his tone. Then he went on, “I just called out to Tula’s and got the machine.”
“Is there a problem?” She hoped he interpreted the near panic in her voice as concern.
“No. I just needed to talk to Glory . . .” There was a long pause. “You know, see how Tula’s doing today with her eye.”
God, the man was a horrible liar. Clearly she had to do something. “I was calling to tell you I can pick Scott up from school at lunchtime and run him to Tula’s. I know how much time you’ve had to spend away from the station lately. This way you can have an uninterrupted day at work.” At this stage of the game, the less incidental contact between Eric and Glory, the better.
“There’s no need,” he said. “I want to talk to Tula anyway.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to get ahold of her by phone sometime in the next few hours. There’s no need for you to take a chunk out of the middle of your day to run Scott all the way out there. I’m free at lunch today.”
“You’re going to have Scott all weekend; why don’t you take the time to run your errands? I’ve already planned my day around taking him.”
Jill’s chest tightened with frustration. She forced herself to say, in a cheery voice, “Good idea.” After a carefully timed pause, she said, “Tomorrow’s Saturday, why don’t we take Scott to the park in the afternoon. I’ll pack a picnic and we can talk about which doctor we should schedule him with . . . you know, make a game plan.”
There was just enough hesitation in Eric’s response to tell her he had other plans for tomorrow. She held her breath. Eric always put Scott first; that’s one thing she’d always been able to count on.
“Okay,” he said. “What time?”
“Pick us up at twelve-thirty.”
“I thought maybe we’d just meet there.”
“I suppose we could . . .” She let it hang there.
“Never mind. I’ll be there at noon.”
“Great. See you tomorrow,” she said, in her most upbeat tone. Then she hung up the phone and chewed on her thumbnail for a few seconds. This might be more difficult than she’d thought.
Eric decided to stop trying to reach Glory by phone. Once he’d thought about it, he realized that it might be awkward for her to discuss anything about last night—and that was the subject he most needed to discuss—with her grandmother within earshot.
As he sat at his desk ignoring work he should be doing, he couldn’t explain wh
y he felt so nervous. It was almost as if he were waiting for first-date feedback: Did she enjoy it as much as I did? Would there be a second date?
But he and Glory weren’t teenagers with a blank and unscripted future before them; they were mature adults with very complicated lives and other people who depended upon them. If they embarked on a relationship, it wasn’t going to be a smooth road. Challenges would come from both in and outside their relationship, from both the living and the dead.
Even as he realized how dangerously potholed it would probably be, deep in his gut he knew he wanted to try traveling that road with Glory. Trouble was, after the way she left last night, he didn’t think Glory felt the same.
Hence the nerves.
He was too old for nerves when it came to a woman.
“So knock it off,” he mumbled, and picked up a report he needed to review before he met with the mayor this afternoon.
The morning moved with unnatural slowness. The antsy feel reminded him of when he was a kid and had to wait thirty torturously long minutes after he ate to go swimming. The only time in his adult life that he could recall feeling like this was when Jill had been in labor.
Finally, the hands on the clock begrudgingly moved to twelve-thirty, time to go pick Scott up from school. As he drove to the church, he couldn’t help but wonder about Jill’s unprecedented offer to drive Scott out to Tula’s. Jill really seemed to be coming around. As amicable as their shared custody had always been, recently it had become strained. Today’s offer was the signal of better things to come, he just knew it.
When he entered the preschool, Mrs. Parks was sitting on the floor next to Scott. As unexpected relief washed over Eric, and he realized how tense he always was when he walked through this door, never knowing if he’d find his son in a total meltdown or in heartbreaking isolation while other children colored or sang songs.
Mrs. Parks looked up at Eric with a smile. “He had a good day today.”
On Blue Falls Pond Page 22
