by Scott, Lisa
He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not in love with Lily. Any man would call me a fool for that. She gorgeous and sweet, but she’s just not for me. I hate to say it, but she’s just been a good distraction from you.”
The words fell between them like a final handful of confetti tossed at a party that would soon have to be swept up.
“You’re the one I’ve always wanted, Jeanne.” He looked up at her, and the pain in his eyes made her sick. “But not now. Not after keeping this from me.”
A strangled feeling gripped her throat, but she managed to say, “You just don’t want me because I’m having a baby.”
“That’s not true. I can’t ever trust you again.”
They stared at each other, and then a third voice piped up.
“A distraction?” Frozen in a horrible, heartbreaking pose, Lily looked like a statue. The kind of look you could never shake from your brain. Jeanne could imagine how Lily felt. She wasn’t the only one losing Brad today.
He rushed over to Lily. “Lily, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
“Yes, it is.” Her voice raised an octave or two.
Got a lot louder, too. The word hysterical came to Jeanne’s mind.
“What else could you possibly mean by it? There’s no backing out of those words.” Lily eyes were wide and hurt. “We’re done. But from the sounds of it, we didn’t have anything to begin with, did we?” She gave him a dismissive wave and stormed out of the kitchen, but Brad didn’t chase her.
“I’m sorry,” Jeanne said. “I never wanted her to get hurt. I made a point of not telling you because of her.”
“Lies always end up hurting someone, Jeanne. And I’m guilty of it, too.” He closed his eyes and dropped his head back. “I’m going to have to go after her. I didn’t want her to hear that, but she’s right.” Then he looked at Jeanne. “What I had with Lily wasn’t real, so don’t worry about ruining anything. And don’t worry about the baby. I’ll support you financially, but that’s all I can do. I have nothing to give a child. Nothing good, anyway. I can’t be part of this. I can’t be with you. I’m not even sure I can be friends with you.”
With trembling hands and a galloping heart, she nodded. Might have been easier if he’d been screaming at her. The hurt in his voice crumpled her heart like an empty soda can. “I tried telling you. I did. I just didn’t know how.”
He hung his head and looked at the floor.
Jeanne wrung her hands. “What about the business?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we can sell it. We have to fulfill our obligations for the New Year’s bash.” He looked over his shoulder. “I gotta go find Lily. We’ll talk this over later.”
“Guess we can call off Man of the Month now, since I’m sure none of them want a baby either,” Jeanne called after him.
She stood up to leave but had to sit back down, letting the tears flow for a good half hour. When she felt as sad and pathetic as a limp dishrag, she flicked off the lights, locked up, and went home to cry some more—for herself, for Brad, and for the baby. The baby was the most important person in this whole thing. What was going to happen to the poor child? She pulled out her cell and texted Kate and Tonya—emergency meeting at my place right now.
“HE SHOULD man up,” Tonya said, passing Jeanne a tissue, the three of them lying in her bed.
Jeanne sat up. “No! I don’t want him doing anything out of a sense of obligation. I want him to want the baby. But he doesn’t. And he doesn’t want me.”
Kate smoothed Jeanne’s hair. “Damn Larsen boys.”
“You can handle this yourself,” Tonya said, her New York accent coming back to life. “My nonna did a fine job raising me and my cousin Inez when both our mothers split. Well, she did a fine job with me at least. And you can, too.”
Jeanne hugged her pillow. “Is that fair to the baby? How would I explain why the child’s own father didn’t want to be part of our lives? Maybe the baby would be better off with someone else.” It hurt her heart to say it, but she wondered if it was true.
Kate jerked back. “Jeanne! You’ve wanted a family of your own forever.”
Jeanne linked her fingers around her knees, unconsciously rubbing the spot where a wedding ring would be if this whole thing was unfolding like she’d dreamed so many times. The skin was bare and cold.
“Yes, a family like I never had—with a mother and a father. Not just one parent struggling to make things right.”
“Lots of single parents do it,” Kate offered.
Jeanne swiped her hand under her nose. “I just don’t know.”
Tonya sat up, bouncing the bed. “Well, you’ve got two aunties right here. Plus your sister. We’ll help you however we can. And trust me, that child will have the best looking hair in town. I’ll see to that.”
“And everyone in town will probably whisper when my child walks by. Just like they always did behind my back. ‘Poor Jeanne Clark.’ I don’t want my baby to be poor anything.”
Kate and Tonya both wrapped their arms around Jeanne. “It’ll be okay,” they told her, stroking her hair and wiping her tears.
She nodded, even though she knew they were wrong.
BRAD DROPPED by the police station, and Dolly sat up and tugged her cardigan closed. “You got some samples? You know I’m a sucker for your appetizers.”
Brad forced a smile. “Maybe next time. I was wondering if my brother’s in.” He couldn’t wait until he got home to talk to him. Times like this, he really missed his mother. Undoubtedly, she’d have some good advice. That’s what mothers did, right? She’d probably whack him in the head and tell him to marry Jeanne.
“Tommy’s back in his office,” Dolly said. “He just got in after picking up Burt Conroy for riding his tractor into town. Again.” She tugged on her sweater. “Seems like maybe we should create a special ordinance for him.”
“Thanks.” Brad felt like he was marching down to the principal’s office. He’d had a lot of experience with that, whether it was goofing off in class or horsing around in the halls. He knocked on Tommy’s door and peeked in. “Got a minute?”
“Sure, sit down. What’s up? More business problems?” Tommy asked.
Brad let out a sigh for the ages as he sat down across the desk from Tommy. “Wish it was as easy as that. No, Jeanne’s been lying to me. She’s pregnant, and I’m the father.”
Tommy’s eyes widened, and he puffed up his cheeks. “Damn.”
“I know.”
Tommy turned up his hands. “But you love her.”
“Bro, you know I can’t be a father.” Brad drummed his fingers on his thighs.
“Cut the crap. We came from the same shit situation, and you don’t see me hurting my child. Jane is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. It wouldn’t be any different for you.”
“You don’t know that.”
Tommy looked up at the ceiling. “I know you, and you wouldn’t do that.”
“Even if I believed that, she lied to me. She told me it was some dude in Whitesville. How do I get over that?”
Tommy shook his head, and his usual tough-guy look softened. “You’re going to lose the woman you love. Let me tell you how much that sucks. I’m happy Kate’s doing so well with Teague. But it took a long time to get over that.” A note of hurt still tinged his voice.
“Exactly. The baby ruined everything. It’s doing the same for me.”
Tommy stood up and walked over to him. He squatted down next to Brad’s chair. “Don’t screw this up. Make this work. You’ll be a good father.”
Brad stood. “I’ll give her what she needs to take care of the baby. That’s the best I can do.”
“What she needs is you.”
Brad said nothing and left.
BRAD BAGGED up the dirty litter from Jeanne’s cat box and dropped it in the trash.
“You’ve got to give me something else to do so I can help you.” He couldn’t be there emotionally, but he’d do whatever else he could
. “Should I throw you one of those baby parties?”
She blinked at him. “You mean a baby shower?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure what goes on at one, but I could figure it out.”
“No. I already told the girls I didn’t want one. Kate and Becca are saving their baby stuff for me.”
“But there’s got to be something I should be doing. Besides changing your litter box.”
She set down her dish of ice cream. She’d stopped weighing herself a month ago and couldn’t imagine the damage her sweet tooth was causing her bottom. There was something to be said for stretchy pants. “Brad I’m fine. Cleaning the cat box really helps.”
He walked circles around her couch, grimacing and balling his fists. Aunt Betty had had a dog that did the same anxious circling thing. A hunting dog that never got to bound through the woods or sink his teeth into his master’s kill. Jeanne imagined how tough it must be for a control freak to have no projects to plan for his unplanned child.
She sighed. “You could get my place childproofed.”
He twisted his lips, clearly not understanding the concept, but not wanting to admit it. “Seeing how effective my condoms were, I think we can agree I know nothing about childproofing.”
She snatched a throw pillow from the couch and launched it at him.
He ducked and laughed. “I’ll do it. Just tell me what it is.”
“Corner protectors, covers on the electrical outlets. Stuff like that. Make sure you research it all first.” That’d keep him busy for a while.
He snapped his fingers. “I’m on it.” And he dashed out the door.
Jeanne’s mouth was still hanging open when he came back in two minutes later.
“I got half way down your street when I realized I had no idea where to get that kind of stuff.”
She laughed. “Most big department stores. Smart Mart. There are big box baby stores in Whitesville that have everything.”
“So why haven’t we been going there?”
Had he forgotten he didn’t want this baby? That he didn’t want her? He was just on a planning high.
“I don’t know if I’m having a boy or a girl. And like I said, Kate and Becca have most the stuff I need.”
“Well, consider the babyproofing done. I’ll be back later.”
Again, he was back two minutes later. “I need to count how many outlets you have.” And he spent the next half hour with a pen and notepad, scratching down tallies and measuring door openings.
She figured she’d see him later that weekend. But he was back seven hours later loaded with bags. “I know it’s late, but mind if I get started installing this stuff?”
She set her magazine down on her enormous baby bulge. “What on earth did you buy?”
He sat on the floor with the bags, like a kid at Christmas. A smile split his face as he unloaded the goods. “Furniture corner cushions, a choke tube tester—you can put things in there to be sure they’re not too small for the baby. I think you’re going to have to get rid of all your earrings. An alarm for the tub in case the water comes out too hot. Window guards so the kid can’t fall out. A couple different baby gates.”
She whistled and made a time out sign. “Brad, I live in a one-story ranch. I’m not real worried about a child falling out a first floor window, and there are no stairs to gate off.”
He looked hurt. “But you’ve got door openings. What if you’re cooking and you want to keep the baby from toddling in and touching the hot oven? We need to gate off the kitchen.”
She rolled her eyes and conceded a shrug. “Is all this stuff for my place, or did you get doubles for your place, too?”
He set down the first aid kit he was examining. “No. I didn’t get anything for my place.”
“Right.” She rocked her enormous self to the side, shifted to her hands and knees and slowly stood up. “Let’s call it a day, Brad. I’m awful tired. Why don’t you come back and install this stuff later? I’m going to be at Becca’s, so I won’t even be in your way. Grab the spare key behind the flour canister.”
They stared at each other until Brad looked down at his boots. “Will do. Have fun tomorrow.”
WHEN JEANNE came home the next day after visiting her sister, her place looked safe enough to host a daycare center. She’d been hoping Brad would still be there, but he was gone. She shuffled to the kitchen to get a bowl and spoon for her goodnight ice cream. She had it three times a day now, and usually went for something fruity at night. But the drawer was locked. And so was the cupboard.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and called Brad. “Did you put locks on all my cabinets.”
“Sure did.” She could hear the smile in his voice.
“I wasn’t real concerned about the baby climbing onto the counter and getting into the dishes.”
“Just push the door in, reach under the handle and release the latch.”
She set down the phone and tried three times to do just that. “Brad, get over here and take off these safety locks.”
“Fine. But don’t come crying to me when the baby breaks all the dishes.”
Brad was there in ten minutes with his bucket of tools, removing the safety locks while grumbling to himself about busy hands and creative little minds.
When he finished he said, “Don’t think I’ll be putting these back in for you, either.”
“If I need them, I’ll figure out how to reinstall them. There’s lots I’m going to have to do on my own.”
Brad rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at the floor. “I’ll do my best.”
“Don’t you worry about us. We’ll be fine.” And since he’d locked up her knives, and she wouldn’t be able to cut the tension in the room, she said, “We’re all set on supplies for the New Year’s bash, right?”
“Yep. Two weeks away. Mitch and Dina are helping out that night. I think we’ve got it covered if you want to stay home, especially since it’s all outdoors. Could be too much for you.”
“Nope. Could be our last event for Elegant Eats. I want to be there.”
He nodded. “All right then. I think I’ve got all the safety stuff here covered. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He let himself out, and she wished to God there was a safety lock for her heart, ’cause it just didn’t stop hurting.
Chapter 20
CHRISTMAS CAME, and Jeanne dreaded it. She had no magical memories of the holidays. Aunt Betty always gave the girls practical gifts, and very few at that. These past few years with Brad had been a blast, finding each other special little gifts. She normally spent hours combing antique stores for the old kitchen gear he secretly cherished.
But this year’s gift was different.
“Hey, I needed these,” he said, unwrapping the expensive suede gloves.
“Yeah, I noticed.”
“And here is yours,” he said, pushing a big box in front of her.
With no clue what he could be giving her—last year he’d gotten her a collection of floral food flavorings, rose, lavender, and violet, along with special cookware from Sweden—she tore off the shiny red paper to find a motorized, self-cleaning litter box. “Wow.”
“I know, right? Now you’ll never have to clean the cat box again.”
“Should have gotten one of these earlier. You wouldn’t have had to stop by at all.”
“I didn’t mind. I like Scooter.” He clapped his hands together. “So, Merry Christmas.”
“Yeah, you too.”
“You can take the rest of the week off to rest up for New Year’s.”
With the way the baby was kicking and her heart was splitting, she could only nod. “Might be a good idea.”
“I’m sorry how things turned out this year, Jeanne. I really wanted to find you someone special. I’m sorry Man of the Month didn’t pan out.”
“I knew it wouldn’t. I was just humoring you.”
He nodded.
“And I’m sorry, too. Have you found a buyer for the bu
siness?”
“Events Extraordinaire’s interested. I’ll know after the first of the year. We should get enough to get our investment back. And then we can move on.”
Jeanne balled up the wrapping paper in her lap. She wanted to say, “Thanks for taking care of this. Knew I could count on you.” But she couldn’t. Brad was letting her down in more ways than one. Maybe it was a good thing he wasn’t going to be part of their lives anymore.
“I gotta get over to Tommy’s. He’s got Jane tonight.”
“Tell them Merry Christmas. And thank you for the gift, Brad.”
“You, too. Night Jeanne.” And he slipped out the door, like some sort of anti-Santa taking all the joy with him.
A FEW DAYS later, Jeanne and Brad were working in the kitchen at Elegant Eats getting ready for the New Year’s Bash. She pressed her hands against her lower back and groaned.
“Sit. Take a break,” Brad said.
“The bash is tomorrow. I’ve got two hundred more s’mores-on-a-stick to make. They’ll be a lot of fun over the bonfire. These were a great idea, Brad.”
“We’ll get ’em done. I’ll stay all night if I have to. I’ve been thinking you shouldn’t come tomorrow. I can hire some extra help.”
“Brad, I’m not due for over three weeks. Women in China work in the rice fields and deliver their babies right there. I’m not a lightweight.” She popped a marshmallow into her mouth.
And how many was that? she asked herself. Well into double digits, for sure.
“Three weeks? I thought you were due in February?”
“I fudged the date when I wasn’t being totally honest with you.”
He opened his mouth to say something—and from the glint in his eye, it wasn’t going to be nice—but snapped his trap shut. Maybe he was smarter than she thought.
