Just Around the Corner

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “God, what a mess.”

  “Yeah.” Some people just weren’t made for romantic love, Phyllis knew. Couldn’t handle the negative emotions that came along with the bliss. Bruce, Tory’s husband, had been one of those people.

  Phyllis was another.

  “You miss her a lot.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Meeting his eyes, seeing the very real emotion there, Phyllis started to cry. “Thanks,” she said, letting the tears roll slowly down her cheeks while she continued to hold his gaze.

  He didn’t move, didn’t touch her. But Phyllis felt as though he’d wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly. He’d lent her his strength.

  Making everything just a little easier.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  SOPHIE CURTIS’S ALARM woke her up from a nice dream about her parents. Reaching over to shut it off so she could get back to sleep, she cursed when her knuckles hit her desk chair, instead. Oh yeah. She was in the dorm. Not at home where she would’ve been if her father hadn’t decided to take off with his secretary all those years ago and leave her mom behind to fall apart—and to marry every man who was halfway decent to her.

  Damn.

  She rolled over, feeling groggy and disoriented. She knew her dizziness came from hunger, and she kind of liked that sensation. In the first place, it slowed down the thinking process a little bit—always a relief to Sophie, whose mind never gave her a moment’s peace. And it also meant she was strong, in control. She hadn’t pigged out—eaten too much—yesterday.

  Peeking out through the lashes of one eye, Sophie determined that her roommate had made it to her first class. Good. She didn’t feel like being chatty this morning.

  What she felt like doing was going back to sleep. And maybe she would. She could sleep through breakfast. And lunch, too.

  But she had her advanced lighting-design class today. An entire hour with Matt. And if she was lucky and he had them work on their individual projects, she’d probably have some time alone with him.

  Out of bed, Sophie stumbled to the bathroom. Then she headed, naked, to stand sideways in front of the floor-length mirror on her closet door. Damn. She ran her hand down her belly. There was still a slight bulge.

  With a heavy heart, she pulled out the scale she had shoved in the back of her closet and stepped on to it. A hundred and one. Down another pound.

  Feeling a little better, she looked in the mirror again. The bulge was still there. She wondered if maybe something was wrong with her.

  She shook her head. No. She was just scaring herself. Most people had a bit of a rounded shape to them. Except models who, everyone knew, were anorexic and unhealthy.

  So what was she going to wear this morning? Something tight to reveal her legs and butt so Matt could see how much weight she’d lost. But a bulky top. She couldn’t have him seeing that bulge.

  He’d told her once that blue was her color. Because of her eyes. She pulled a blue angora sweater out of her bottom drawer.

  Okay, so he’d been speaking of a series of lights she’d put together. He’d mentioned that they were the blue that was about the color of her eyes. And that she tended to use blues a lot, probably because they complemented her, and students tended to lean toward the colors they felt good about.

  But she’d known what he meant. He liked her in blue.

  Pulling on the black jeans she’d saved to wear for him today, Sophie frowned until she could fasten the button at the top and see that the waistband was a little loose.

  If she ever got her chance with Matt, which she was sure she would one of these days, she wanted to be absolutely sure she was perfect for him.

  More perfect than she’d been for Jason. And Stu. And Paul. She’d been good in bed—it was the one thing she knew she could do well—but not good enough to hold on to any of them. Oh, Paul still hung around, just like he’d been hanging around for more than a year, but she knew he’d taken that cheerleader to bed.

  Just like her father and his secretary.

  No, what Sophie needed was a real man like Matt Sheffield. He’d know the value of a beautiful woman’s body. He’d never just use her for momentary satisfaction. He was strong and true.

  Look how nice he’d been to her when she’d finally gotten up the courage to seek him out the other day. She’d been on the verge of tears, ready to give up on everything, and just being with him had made her feel better. She’d felt resolute and focused, able to cope again.

  And he’d practically begged her to stay in his classes.

  God. She loved him so much it hurt.

  PHYLLIS STARTED BLEEDING again the next afternoon. Heart pounding, she stood there in her bathroom, looking at the evidence. It was only a little bit, she told herself. Not enough to be significant.

  But it could get worse.

  She could lose her baby.

  She couldn’t bear the thought.

  With shaking hands she carefully changed her underwear, then pulled on the jeans she’d been changing into after work. She reached for the soap she kept under her sink for hand-washables. Generally she used it for her panty hose.

  When she’d first found out she was pregnant, she hadn’t thought it was good news. She was single. With no plans of ever not being that way. She was a college professor, had to conform to a certain moral code. Her life was mapped out just the way she wanted it. And the map didn’t include a baby.

  And yet…the baby had become real to her. Real and precious. And her map had been redrawn.

  After a quick call to her doctor’s office, Phyllis had a stern talk with herself, which only partially worked. The doctor had asked a couple of questions and then assured Phyllis she had nothing to worry about. She was to take it easy, watch out for symptoms, but Dr. Mac thought the day’s spotting was just residual from earlier in the week.

  She’d examined Phyllis after the initial incident and found everything exactly as it should be. Some women had a bit of spotting in the early months of pregnancy, she’d explained. When it was as little as Phyllis was experiencing, it was usually no big deal. Before she hung up, she told Phyllis the signs to watch for, just in case.

  Usually no big deal. Not always no big deal. Which meant that at some time or other, for some woman or other, it was a big deal. And what if she started seeing the signs Dr. Mac had described? What if the bleeding got worse?

  Stop it. She was letting her mind run away with her. Being ridiculous. She knew better than this. She needed to distract herself, think about something else until the panic subsided and she was her rational self again.

  Matt. She had to call Matt.

  Portable phone to her ear, it dawned on her that, although she’d only phoned him once before, she knew his number by heart. He might be on her list of support people at the moment—the bottom of her list—but she didn’t need to know his number. She’d have to put it out of her mind. Forget it.

  There was really no reason to call him. Nothing was wrong. And she had no heavy lifting to be done.

  This baby was her responsibility. Not his.

  She might as well hang up.

  “Sheffield.”

  He was still in his office. She had the feeling he spent a lot of time there.

  “I, uh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

  “Phyllis? Something wrong?” His voice had sharpened.

  “No.” She felt like an idiot. “I really am sorry. I was about to hang up when you answered.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was just being weak and stupid for a moment there, but I’m fine now. It was totally unlike me and won’t happen again. I can’t believe I did it. I don’t even want to talk to you. Put it down to hormones and forget it ever happened. See ya.” The words flew out in a rush, and when she finished that last sentence and was afraid of what else might come out, Phyllis pushed the Off button on the phone.

  Holding her breath, she waited a couple of seconds to see if he was going t
o call back and ask who or what had taken possession of the rational woman he knew. When he’d had plenty of time to look up her number and the phone didn’t ring, she let out a sigh of relief and finished getting dressed. The ribbed gray sweater matched the stitching on her jeans.

  Catching a glimpse of herself in her dresser mirror, Phyllis was surprised to see her belly protruding a little. Dr. Mac had apparently seen signs of the baby, but Phyllis hadn’t really been able to tell. She was just under twelve weeks along.

  She looked more closely, feeling comforted when she could definitely detect a thickening shape she’d never seen before. Fat was soft and ugly. Phyllis’s belly, while still perfectly normal to anyone who wasn’t studying it, was firm and ever so slightly rounded.

  Six weeks ago she’d been lamenting the fact that this pregnancy was going to make her put on the weight she’d painstakingly lost over the past year. Suddenly she couldn’t wait.

  What on earth was happening to her?

  Shaking her head, Phyllis turned off her bedroom light and decided to sort through the mail she’d left on the table in the foyer. She should probably pay bills that night. And maybe start looking more seriously at her long-term financial plans.

  She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sit still and concentrate. Nervous energy sped through her, making her feel as though she’d consumed a liter of soda loaded with caffeine. She wasn’t going to start hemorrhaging. Logically she knew that. She trusted Dr. Mac.

  She’d had an exam two days before.

  And still she was nervous.

  It was Wednesday night. What would Cassie be doing? Or Tory? Or Becca? They’d all be with their husbands; that was a given. Except maybe Cassie. Her friend could be staying late at the clinic. It didn’t happen very often anymore, but occasionally it did.

  She dialed the veterinary clinic by heart, too. And listened to the answering machine pick up after the fourth ring. Damn. Cassie was the person she needed. She was the only one Phyllis could talk to about the strange emotions consuming her. Cassie was still the only one who knew that Phyllis was pregnant.

  Other than Matt, of course.

  There was no way Phyllis was going to call Cassie at home during dinnertime. She’d be sitting at the table with Sam and Mariah and her in-laws, too. They’d all watch her leave the room to answer the phone. Wait for her return. Ask who she’d been talking to…

  The Valley Diner downtown was always an option. The food was great. At this time of night there’d be lots of people, friendly conversation, diversion.

  Wednesday was chicken enchilada night. Phyllis’s mouth was watering already. She’d just put the mail on her desk in the corner of the living room, grab her keys and go.

  And if, after dinner, she was still at loose ends, she’d stop by and see Tory and Ben. Alex would still be up, so it wouldn’t be as though Phyllis was really interrupting—

  Her doorbell rang.

  Who could that be? Becca maybe? Dropping something by for another of her committees? Phyllis was one of Becca’s best volunteers, with no family making demands on her spare time.

  Hurrying to the door before Becca assumed she wasn’t home and left, Phyllis decided to tell her friend about the baby. Becca would understand. Hell, when the two women had first met the summer before, Becca had been in the last trimester of a very trying pregnancy herself. Her first baby at forty-two.

  They’d become fast friends. Remembering the weeks they’d spent so much time together, weeks when Becca had been separated from the love of her life—her husband, Will, Phyllis’s boss—Phyllis knew that Becca was just the person she needed tonight.

  Her smile went from overbright to nervous when she saw who was on her step.

  “I can’t believe you came all the way over here,” she said to Matt, standing on the other side of the closed screen door.

  “You called.”

  “I told you I was fine.”

  “You of all people wouldn’t have called if you were fine.”

  He had her there.

  “I was just…having a moment,” she said, trying for a careless grin. She didn’t think she’d entirely pulled it off. She could feel her bottom lip trembling. “I’m fine now.”

  She had to get out of there. Get downtown, where she’d be surrounded by people before she had a full-blown panic attack over nothing.

  Standing there with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, Matt could have been posing for a cigarette commercial. Or, more in keeping with the times, a commercial for a rugged off-road vehicle.

  “Since I drove all the way over here, why don’t you come on out for a second and tell me about this moment you were having?”

  She’d opened the door before she’d considered the question. There was no reason to tell him. Nothing to be gained by sharing her ups and downs with him.

  But it was so sweet of him to have driven all this way when she knew he really wanted nothing to do with her or the baby.

  She sat on the top step, irrationally glad when Matt sat down beside her. Sure beats the Valley Diner. But only because she was still too shaky to be keeping up appearances with so many people at once.

  Here at home, there was only one person to fool.

  And here at home, she was close to her bathroom. Just in case.

  “I bled a little bit more today.” Phyllis was shocked to hear the words. She knew better than to get close to Matt Sheffield.

  But he was the only person who knew about the other day. He’d been at the hospital with her, experienced the entire ordeal. Telling him seemed so natural.

  Elbows on his knees, head facing the ground, Matt gave her a sideways glance. “I take it, since we’re sitting here, that you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Forgive me if I shouldn’t be saying this, but you don’t sound fine.”

  “I—”

  He sat up, assessed her more completely. “You don’t look fine, either.”

  “Thanks for the compliment,” she said dryly. And why had she thought, for even a second, that she wanted to talk with him?

  “That’s not what I meant,” Matt said, frowning. “You look beautiful, of course. But you’ve also got a crease between your brows and you haven’t smiled a genuine smile since I arrived.”

  “You’ve been here all of two minutes.”

  He didn’t say anything to that. Just sat there, gazing down the steps in front of them.

  Phyllis took in a lungful of fresh, soothing air.

  “It’s odd, you know,” she said slowly. “In the past few years, I haven’t imagined myself as a mother, having a baby. I’m always the aunt in the picture.”

  He glanced at her silently.

  “And I was okay with that,” she told him. “I really was happy.”

  “I’m sorry to have ruined all that.”

  “I thought I was, too. Until today.”

  Brows raised, he waited for her to continue.

  “I mean, as soon as I knew I was pregnant, I wanted the baby. Don’t get me wrong. I just thought I wanted it because I couldn’t not have it. Because it was mine.”

  He looked away, his eyes following a blue SUV as it drove slowly past.

  “But suddenly, today, I have to have this baby.”

  “I don’t quite understand,” Matt said, his gaze returning to her.

  “I mean,” she said, “a great part of my happiness now rests with this baby.”

  “How so?” He sounded more curious than anything else.

  “Because I’m never going to marry, I assumed that meant I was going to live my life alone.” She shook her head. “I don’t know why I never considered single parenting before now. It’s not like it’s all that uncommon these days. And I’ve got lots of men in my life, friends, to provide a male influence.” She shrugged. “I suppose my background was just too conventional for me to make the leap.”

  “I don’t guess there are too many artificial inseminations in Shelter Valley.”

  “No.”
She shared a grin with him. “It’s a pretty traditional place.”

  “So you aren’t angry about the baby?”

  “Hell, no!” Phyllis said, sending him a truly shocked look. “I was never angry.”

  “My mother would’ve been furious,” he said.

  “It never even entered my mind to be angry. Panicked, yes. Unsettled, nervous, scared, even a little depressed. But not angry.” She thought a moment, and then, “How about you? Are you angry?”

  “At myself, maybe, for doing this to you.”

  “But you didn’t do anything to me.”

  His mouth twisted in a fully masculine smirk. “I think Dr. Mac would disagree with you on that.”

  Phyllis blushed, looked down at the steps and then grinned. “As I recall the, uh, activity that got us here was definitely mutual.”

  “I should’ve known that condom couldn’t possibly be safe.”

  “Have you spent your whole life doing this?” Phyllis asked curiously. She liked having him there beside her. He brought warmth to the chilly evening air.

  “Doing what?”

  “Blaming yourself for things you couldn’t possibly have helped.”

  Matt was quiet for a few long minutes. “I could’ve had a little more control that day we were…together. Stopped things before they got so out of hand.”

  “I suppose so. Though the same could be said for me.”

  “Have you been doing this all your life?” he asked, sending her a sideways grin. It was a grin that reached his dark eyes. It was the first time she’d seen that happen.

  “Doing what?” she asked, unable to look away from that gleam in his eyes.

  “Taking guilt away from people.”

  “Is that what I’m doing?”

  “I hope so. It sure feels like it.”

  “Is it working?”

  “I don’t know yet. But maybe.”

  She hoped so. He was a good man. And far too hard on himself. He was blaming himself for giving her the one thing she’d never have sought for herself. The one thing that had been missing from her happiness. A family of her own.