Expectations

by Brenda Novak

  “I guess you’ll be heading back to San Francisco soon,” she said.

  “Yeah. I’ve got to get back. Some things have happened since I’ve been gone…”

  “Sure, it’s hard to get away when you’ve got so much going on.” She spoke quickly and started toward the door, obviously expecting him to take her words at face value, but he couldn’t ignore the undercurrent. She knew he was running away from her again. He hadn’t been able to fulfill his promise to her fifteen years ago. And he hadn’t gotten any better at making commitments since.

  “Dammit, Jenna,” he said, catching her by the arm. “What do you expect me to do? Walk away from my practice?”

  “What do I expect?” She frowned. “I don’t expect anything. I couldn’t hold you here once, I wouldn’t try again. Any demands you feel are simply your imagination. Or maybe they’re reflections of your grandparents’ hopes, not mine.”

  “Liar.” He could feel her shaking under his hand, a natural reaction after learning about the baby, he supposed, but he wanted to believe that part of her still responded to him.

  She released a bitter laugh. “God, Adam, what do you want from me? If you want to hear me say it nearly destroyed me when you left the last time, I will. But if you think I’ll give any man the chance to hurt me like that again, you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

  “Didn’t Dennis hurt you, Jen?”

  “The truth?” Defiance flashed in her eyes. “In some ways,” she admitted. “Fat lips hurt. Broken bones hurt. Worrying about Ryan because of Dennis and me hurt. Living in fear hurt. But Dennis could never really reach me. Not in here.” She tapped her chest with the knuckles of one fist. “This is locked up tight, and the key was lost a long time ago. A divorce is a huge wakeup call, Adam. We’re not kids anymore. Every decision I make affects my son, and even if I wanted to, I couldn’t take another emotional risk, at least not now, and not with you. Ryan needs me to be strong and consistent. So that means you’re safe. Get it? I don’t want anything from you, and to be completely honest, I wish you’d do us all a big favor and go back to San Francisco. That’s where you want to be. That’s where you belong. So go, okay?”

  The phone on the nightstand jangled. As Jenna jerked away to answer it, a shadow of apprehension entered her eyes. Dennis again, Adam thought. This time of night, it had to be him. And Jenna knew it.

  Instinctively he skirted past her to grab the receiver. “All right, Dennis,” he barked into the phone, “you want to threaten somebody, try threatening me. I won’t stand still for your harassing Jenna anymore, do you understand?”

  “Well, if it isn’t my old buddy.” A harsh chuckle sounded on the line, then the soft pop a bottle makes when it loses its seal. “I thought so,” Dennis said, his words barely recognizable amidst the slurred syllables.

  “Jenna might think my brain’s pickled, but I’m not stupid. I knew what was happening all along. As soon as you snapped your fingers, she packed up and left me to run right back to you, eh?”

  Adam didn’t like the sound of Dennis’s crazed voice. Neither did he like the accusation that he’d been responsible for the divorce. “I didn’t even know you two weren’t together until I came home last night, but you’ve had too much to drink to believe that. So believe what you want. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You guys are divorced. You got that, Dennis? That means you leave Jenna alone.”

  Again the grating laugh. “You getting all you want, friend? Because she was sure a stingy bitch with me.”

  Adam clenched his teeth. “Just leave Jenna alone.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I won’t bother calling the cops. It’ll be just you and me, and a lesson learned the hard way.”

  “That sounds like something I won’t want to miss. Maybe we should sell tickets. Jenna would love that, wouldn’t she? To have us fighting over her again? It’ll be just like old times.” And the line went dead.

  Jenna stood staring at Adam, her face chalky white, her hands over her mouth.

  “If he calls or bothers you again, Jen, I need you to tell me—”

  “No! Thanks for the infusion of testosterone, Adam, but it won’t help me protect Ryan or your folks when Dennis comes here, raving drunk, and you’re in San Francisco. Don’t you understand? Dennis lived in your shadow our whole married life. Nothing could bring him here quicker than to think we’re together. So next time don’t do me any favors.”

  She slipped from the room and into the hall, and Adam resisted the urge to go after her; instead, he rammed a hand through his hair. Jenna had had one hell of a night, and because of his own scrambled emotions, he hadn’t done much to make things better. But it was high time someone stopped Dennis from harassing his ex-wife. Jenna thought Adam’s involvement might cause Dennis to do something rash, but Dennis was already a ticking bomb, ready to go off. And most women didn’t understand something boys learned at a very young age: the only way to stop a bully was to beat him at his own game.

  “ADAM! ADAM, wake up!”

  With a groan Adam rolled over and squinted bleary-eyed at a blond head—Ryan’s. “Hey, squirt,” he mumbled. “What you doing up so early?”

  “It’s not early, Adam. It’s almost seven o’clock. Grandma Durham sent me to tell you we’re ready to go.”

  “Go?” After the almost sleepless night he’d spent, Adam felt as if he’d been hit by a truck. He rolled over and snuggled deeper into the blankets, but any hope of going back to sleep ended when Ryan’s small fist knocked gently on his head.

  “Hello? Is anybody home?”

  Chuckling, Adam scrubbed the sleep from his face. “All right, wise guy,” he said, “the lights are going on, but slowly. We’re traveling up the coast. Am I right?”

  “Yep! Grandma Durham packed us some snacks to eat in the car. Her blond brownies, which I hate—” he grimaced, then brightened “—but there’s chocolate-chip cookies, too, and fudge, almond roca, deviled eggs, Jell-O jigglers—”

  “Whoa, I haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

  “You gonna take as long to get ready as my mom?” the boy asked.

  Adam perked up. “Jenna’s going?”

  “No. She just takes a long time to comb her hair and do all that girl stuff.”

  “Oh, I see the connection. You think I look like a girl.”

  The boy rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t want to wait while you spend an hour in the bathroom.”

  “So it’s a baseball-cap day, huh?”

  Ryan grinned. “Yeah, just wear a hat!”

  The prospect of a long drive without Jenna dimmed Adam’s enthusiasm. After what had happened last night, he didn’t want to leave her side until he knew what Dennis was going to do. But Oregon was nearly a full day’s travel away. She should be safe until some time after noon, and he, Ryan, Pop and Gram would be back by then.

  Adam was surprised to realize that he wasn’t upset about the possibility of postponing his return to San Francisco. Spending more time in Jenna’s company appealed to him, despite the knowledge that it would probably be better for both of them if he kept his distance.

  Humans were so perverse, he mused. The more they knew they shouldn’t have something, the more they wanted it.

  “All right, squirt. Out you go, so I can dress.”

  Ryan ambled to the door, tossing a baseball a foot or two into the air and catching it with a stiff new glove.

  “You think we can play catch later on?” he asked as the ball landed with a satisfying plop.

  “Sure. Looks like we need to get that glove oiled up and broken in.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan’s grin widened at the prospect, and Adam wondered how a father could let anything come between him and a boy like this.

  And a woman like Jenna.

  For a moment he actually pitied Dennis. His old friend had lost a lot. Granted, it was his own fault—but what did he have left in his life?

  As soon as the door closed, Adam threw off the covers and started digging th
rough his suitcase.

  “Adam? You ready? The day’ll be half-gone before we get out of here if we don’t go now,” Gram’s voice called from downstairs.

  “Half-gone! It’s not even seven o’clock, and it’s Saturday,” Adam muttered, buttoning his faded jeans and pulling on a 49ers sweatshirt. His grandparents would never change. They got up at dawn every day, even when it was only to have fun.

  “After dragging me from my bed, I hope you at least have a cup of coffee waiting for me,” Adam called back, settling a baseball cap over his sleep-tousled hair.

  There was no answer, but he knew Gram well enough to expect more than a cup of coffee. She’d probably fixed him a ten-course meal. Remembering the quick bowl of cold cereal or occasional Pop Tart he tossed down before rushing off to the office in San Francisco, he thought he could get used to the pleasures of living in Mendocino again. Then he realized something—until that very moment, he hadn’t known how much he’d missed it. Small town, slow pace. Home and family.

  “Hey, this is what I went to San Francisco to get away from,” he grumbled, then opened the door to find Ryan waiting in the hall. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”

  AFTER GETTING a couple of rooms ready in case they had some drive-by business that evening, Jenna went to her studio, planning to spend the morning finishing her stained-glass window of the lake and trees. Pamela, the maid, had the day off, and Mr. Robertson wouldn’t be in until four o’clock to start dinner, so she was alone, and grateful for the solitude.

  Flipping on the space heater to get rid of the chill, she studied the glass she’d cut before bed the night before and decided to start leading the window. She had a penciled drawing of the finished work on the table under the glass. But the telephone interrupted her before she could begin.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jen. It’s me.” Laura Wakefield was the one friend Jenna had grown up with in Mendocino who hadn’t married or moved away. She still lived with her parents, just a few miles down the highway, and helped her mother care for her father, a victim of Alzheimer’s.

  “Laura, what are you doing up this early? It’s only eleven o’clock. You never roll out of bed before noon.”

  “A fringe benefit of working the late shift.”

  “You manage a seafood restaurant that closes at ten. That’s hardly the late shift.”

  “Well, it’s not the early shift, either, which means I can sleep in if I want. Anyway, today I thought I’d drive over to Fort Bragg to see a matinee. Feel like coming with me?”

  Jenna considered the work in progress waiting on her table. “I’m working on the lake piece. Then I’ve got to see about ordering more brochures for the Victoriana. And I promised Mrs. Durham I’d finish their website. So I’d better pass for today.” She considered telling Laura about Adam’s being in town, then decided against it. Her friend would want to know exactly how she felt about seeing him for the first time in fifteen years, and Jenna didn’t want to identify her feelings, let alone talk about them.

  She realized that if she spent much time with Laura, she’d end up telling her anyway, but that didn’t stop her from extending the usual invitation. “Want to come over for a cup of coffee before you go?”

  “No. I’m going to have a shower and color my hair.”

  “You are? You’ve never colored your hair before.”

  “I know, but my dad’s sister is in town. She’s helping take care of him and I’m ready for a change, and one of the waitresses at the restaurant said I should go blond.”

  “As in bleach blond?”

  “Is there any other kind for a brunette?”

  “Oh, no, Laura, think of the roots.”

  “It’ll be a hassle, but if I do it often enough—”

  “You’ll ruin the texture of your hair.”

  “I take it you don’t like the idea.”

  “I think you’ll regret it.”

  “Hmm. Maybe I will. Anyway, my stomach’s a bit queasy. I should probably just go back to sleep.”

  Reminded of her own nausea, and the baby, Jenna put a hand to her stomach. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.

  “So tell me.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “What?”

  Jenna held the phone away from her ear, but she was too late to avoid the blast of Laura’s exclamation.

  “I’m pregnant,” she repeated.

  “Oh, my gosh! And I thought you led this chaste little life. Where have you been going without me?”

  Jenna couldn’t help chuckling. “Nowhere. It’s Dennis’s.”

  “But you haven’t seen Dennis for, what, three months?”

  “Yeah. It happened just before I left Oregon, and it’s a long story, one I really don’t want to go into right now. I just…I don’t know. I wanted the support of someone who might understand how frightened I am, that’s all.”

  “Oh, Jen! You poor thing. I’m so sorry. What are you going to do?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “You could give it up.”

  “Ryan’s brother or sister? Are you crazy?”

  Silence. “It’s Dennis’s baby.”

  “It’s mine, too. I’ll raise it.”

  “And what are you going to tell Dennis? A baby will only give him one more link to you and Ryan, one more reason to beg you to come back or punish you for not coming back.”

  Jenna stretched the phone cord with her so she could reach the back of the studio where she retrieved a box of lead came, the metal compound she used to hold her windows together. “I know.”

  “What if you keep the baby a secret? As long as Dennis never comes around, he’ll have no way of knowing.”

  She sighed. “Except I still have a glimmer of hope that Dennis will get well. Ryan needs a father.” Taking a long metal rod out of the box, Jenna put one end in a vise and began to stretch the came to firm and tone the lead that would surround each small piece of glass.

  “Do you really think that might happen?”

  “I can only hope so, for Ryan’s sake. Besides, it wouldn’t be fair to anyone involved if I claimed the baby belonged to another man.” Jenna winced at her words, unwilling to admit to Laura that she’d already made that mistake. “I want my children to know they’re full-blooded siblings.”

  “Okay, but what if Dennis doesn’t believe you, anyway? Didn’t you tell me he questioned you about Ryan once? When that doctor told him he wasn’t likely to father another child?”

  “Yeah, he accused me of cheating on him.” Tempted to resume her old habit of biting her nails, Jenna kept her hands busy. Now that she was pregnant, she had to be extra-careful around lead.

  “I know another pregnancy must sound scary,” Laura said, “but you’ve been doing really well since you got here. You’ll handle this, too, Jen. I know you’ll handle it just fine.”

  Jenna gave a weak smile, even though Laura couldn’t see it. “Thanks for the vote of confidence. I knew I could count on you to say what I needed to hear, Laura.”

  “I’ll help you. I’ll baby-sit whenever you want me to.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Uh-oh!”

  “What?” Jenna exclaimed.

  “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

  “Go!”

  Jenna heard a click and a dial tone, and Laura was gone. She hung up, the mere suggestion of vomiting enough to make her queasy. Remembering that she hadn’t eaten much for breakfast, she headed over to the house for some crackers.

  Unlocking the back door, she made her way to the kitchen and rummaged through the refrigerator, but ended up digging a box of crackers out of the cupboard as she’d originally planned. She wanted a cup of coffee but knew caffeine wasn’t really good for the baby, so she poured herself a large glass of milk, instead.

  She could handle this pregnancy, she thought. And Ryan would love a sibling. The next few years wouldn’t be easy, but she’d come this far. She’d fight the discouragement and the disillusionment
and keep on fighting until—

  The sound of glass shattering reverberated through the house.

  Jenna froze, the milk halfway to her mouth. Then her heart plummeted to her knees because it was Dennis’s voice she heard calling, “Jenna! Guess who?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “DENNIS?” JENNA WILLED away the falter in her voice and hurried to the living room to find her ex-husband standing on the porch, grinning at her through the broken front window. Spidery cracks spread out from a hole just right of center, distorting his face and making him look more pitiful—and more sinister—than the last time she’d seen him. Thick whiskers covered his jaw, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair, prematurely gray, stood up in places, looking as if it hadn’t been combed in a week. He wore nothing more than a pair of dirty jeans and a T-shirt, despite the cool weather. A rock the size of a baseball lay at Jenna’s feet.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, staring at the shards of glass on the carpet winking like new-fallen snow in the late-morning sun. “That’s an expensive window you broke. You can’t just go around destroying other people’s property!”

  Still grinning, he put a hand to his chest. “You think I did that? Some kid rode by on his bike just as I drove up. Tossed something through the window. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

  Jenna watched him carefully. He’d broken the window in the perfect place to reach a hand through and unbolt the door. And she hadn’t locked the back door behind her.

  “What do you want?” she asked, cutting to the chase. Dennis didn’t appear drunk, but he could be hungover. And mean. In their years together any mention of Adam sent his temper soaring. And now Dennis believed she’d gone back to her high-school sweetheart.

  He dragged a hand through his hair, and this time when he spoke his voice had lost its mockery. “Is it too much to ask to see my son?”

  “Do you really want him to see you like this?” Jenna studied the man she’d married and marveled at how much he’d changed. Heavy lines around his eyes and mouth made him seem at least ten years older than he was, and his stomach, once taut, now hung soft and flabby over his belt. He smelled as if he hadn’t had a bath in weeks. Worse, he didn’t seem to care. “How did you get here so fast, anyway?”