by Lisa Dale
Karin lifted her head to look at him. “Why not?”
“Because it’s Lana’s baby. And it has to be Lana’s decision. We can’t go putting ideas into her head or putting more pressure on her than there is already.”
“But Gene—”
“It’s Lana’s pregnancy, honey. Not ours.”
Karin rested the point of her chin on his chest. Why couldn’t he see how much sense it made? She saw that she wouldn’t get anywhere with this campaign tonight. She decided to let it go—for now. She laid her head back down. “You should at least think about it. Search your heart. See if it feels like caring for and loving Lana’s baby would be the right thing.”
“I don’t know…”
“Just promise you’ll think about it.”
“Fine. But you have to promise me you won’t bring it up with her.”
“I won’t,” she said.
“Do you promise?”
She snorted. “I promise.” She relaxed more deeply against his wide chest. She was never one to go back on her word. But if Lana didn’t reach the obvious conclusion, Karin wasn’t above a few well-placed hints.
She felt Gene sigh beneath her, and her body sank with his breath. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he said.
September 23
Eli took Lana’s arm as they left the foyer of the country club and followed the rest of the wedding guests into the huge, elegant hall. The bride and groom—old friends from college—were off somewhere getting pictures taken. During the service, they’d seemed so happy, so genuinely in love that their smiles bordered on triumphant. At the moment, Eli was feeling more than a little triumphant too.
He wore his best navy suit, which also happened to be his only navy suit, and a crisp white shirt. He looked good, he knew. But he was no match for the woman at his side. In a draping, cabernet-colored cocktail dress, Lana was more than beautiful. She was statuesque. Her hair was pulled up into a smooth, high bun, so her neck—her long, beautiful neck—was entirely exposed. A simple silver chain lay against her skin, glittering where her collarbones met. It was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Don’t be nervous,” he said. He leaned toward her and stole a breath of the perfume behind her ear. “You look gorgeous.”
“I look like a whale.”
“You look breathtaking. The sexiest woman in the room,” he said. And he meant it. The way her dress was gathered, her figure was beautiful, lithe and long. But there was no hiding her belly anymore. When he looked at her, he felt an odd pang in his heart—a longing. Sex was part of it, he knew. But what he wanted couldn’t be summed up so neatly. Her belly didn’t appall him—it fascinated him as every part of her fascinated him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her, not simply because she looked dazzling in her low-cut dress, but because he was held rapt by her changing reactions to him.
He moved his hand from her arm to her back. His palm connected with her naked skin. A flicker of surprise lit her face, but he pretended not to see. Patience, he told himself. They’d been “just friends” for so long that even if he moved with excruciating slowness, it would feel like moving fast to her.
“What’s got into you?” she asked, laughing nervously.
He kept his mouth shut.
They walked together into the center of the main hall, with its marble floors and high white ceilings. Wedding guests were chatting and hunting for their seats among fresh flowers and satin-covered chairs. He linked her arm more securely with his and his forearm pressed against her ribs.
It had surprised him, actually—how receptive she was to casual touching after they’d starved themselves of it for so long. Certainly she’d seemed a little skittish and timid when he took her coat from her shoulders or brushed an eyelash from her cheek. But overall, he’d met with less resistance than he would have thought. She didn’t glare, or swear at him, or tell him to knock it off. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how he’d held back for so long.
“I think this is our table,” he said, pulling out a chair from the empty table and motioning for her to sit.
She took her seat, looking nervously around the room.
“You okay?” he asked.
He saw the muscles in her throat go tight. “Everyone’s going to ask about the baby.”
“No one’s going to think anything except what a beautiful, intelligent, fascinating woman you are.”
“Can I just tell them I did it myself? That it was a spontaneous conception?”
He sat down and brushed a tendril of hair back behind her ear, not because it needed placement, but because he relished the feel of it between his fingers. It killed him not to push all his fingers into her hair, to rumple that neat bun.
He drew away, exhaling.
Whether he succeeded with her or failed, there would be no going back to friendship ever again. He had to do everything right. This was his last chance.
One by one people sat down at their table, and with each arrival Lana felt a little more at ease. She knew a few of the guests who had joined them and she was pleased that the conversation flowed easily, without those fragile, awkward pauses that could sometimes taint an otherwise vigorous conversation among old friends. She leaned back in her seat and tried to relax, but having Eli so close wasn’t making it easy.
The wedding ceremony had been beautiful. The couple had written their own vows, and they read them to each other with impassioned voices and visibly trembling hands. Tears had come to Lana’s eyes. Here were two people confidently embarking on their future together. They spoke of the love and support they would give each other, and of the children they would one day raise. They seemed entirely unafraid of what was before them. If their future was a vast and unpredictable ocean, they were eagerly pushing away from the shore.
They were lucky that marriage was such an easy decision. Every day Lana saw one of her customer’s eyes land with pleasure on her belly, then linger on her naked left hand. People would expect her to get married. They would feel sorry for her and for her baby if she didn’t. But marriage had never held much appeal.
She’d been too young to see her parents’ marriage fall apart, but she had walked through the kitchen at the boardinghouse time and again to see strange women eating breakfast at her father’s table, trying to make small talk with the back of Karin’s head. As far as Lana could tell, romances came in two sizes: people who got into restrictive and stifling marriages, and people who had flings. Perhaps that was why Lana’s best relationship had always been with Eli, who broke that mold and fell into a category all his own.
There was no getting around the truth. Some old vestige of her desire for him was rearing up again. But she would learn to get it under control—she had to. She would suffer through anything to keep their relationship sturdy and the same. What they had worked. She took comfort in knowing that once the baby was born and found a family, she would be able to go to Costa Rica without the fear that things between her and Eli would change. She could have her own adventures, just like Eli was having his, and they would never make demands on each other or hold each other back. Even though some part of her fantasized that one day she might look into Eli’s eyes and see that she was the only woman who had ever truly understood him or claimed his heart, she didn’t believe passion would earn her that permanent position. But friendship might.
“What?” Eli asked, a twinkle in his eye.
“What do you mean, what?”
“You were staring at me.”
Quickly, she turned her gaze away. “I was daydreaming.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” he said. His smile was flirty and sly. “I like the idea of being in your dreams.”
She took a sip of her water; the lemon was cool against her lips, a good distraction. Eli’s sudden interest in her had to have come from somewhere. But where? Maybe breaking up with Kelly had done some damage to his ego, and now he needed a little harmless flirtation to restore his pride. Maybe all this was
just rebounding.
Who was she kidding? This was more.
She ran her finger through the droplets of condensation on her glass. The baby kicked her bladder and she drew in a big breath. Time for a bathroom run. She excused herself and began to slide her chair back, suddenly desperate. It was dazzling, how quickly she could go from having an empty bladder to feeling suddenly and painfully full. She put her napkin down on her clean plate and stood.
“Oh my goodness, Lana!” Leroy, who had been “Mr. Federer” to her in college, threw his napkin down on his plate. His eyes had gone right to her belly when she stood. “Why didn’t you tell us you were expecting?”
Lana watched as one by one the faces at the table turned toward her. Protectively, she put a hand over her belly button, which as of last week wasn’t much of a belly button at all. The baby was growing more rapidly than it had before, bigger each day. She smiled nervously and shrugged.
“When are you due?” he exclaimed.
She told him. Eli got to his feet beside her as if he might shield her.
Leroy also stood to shake Eli’s hand. “Nice work, Eli. We all used to wonder how long it would take you kids to get together.”
Lana stuttered, trying to pick out just the right words.
He went on. “Better late than never, I say.”
“Yes, well…” Lana blushed and crossed her arms before her. She was mortified… but poor Eli. He must have felt a hundred times worse. She had to set the record straight. “Actually, the truth is—”
“We’re slow learners,” Eli interrupted. “But thanks.”
Then she felt his hand at the small of her back, guiding her away from the table and toward the exit. She felt every eye in the big hall glued to her belly, as if it were the leader of a parade and she merely a follower. She hurried, wobbling badly on the high heels that Karin had insisted she buy.
Finally they turned a corner, stopping beside a white-lit ficus in the secluded hallway that led to the ladies’ room. And then they were alone. Blessedly alone. She leaned toward him and whispered in case anyone came near. “Why did you do that? How are we going to go back there and explain that it’s not yours?”
“We’re not,” he said.
She looked up at him. He wore contacts tonight, his brown eyes gleaming warm but serious below his dark lashes. His face was calm, determined, and his gaze was focused solely on hers. Warmth uncoiled and spread within her. She tried to contain it, to tamp it down, but she could not.
He reached up and settled his hand into the crook of her neck, fascinated by something there, perhaps the contrast of his skin and hers. He was so confident, so sure that everything would work out. It made her want to simply put herself in his hands, in every sense. She would give herself to him entirely, and then everything—the baby, her father, her memories, the future, her body, her feelings about him—would stop being her decision and become his. She would let him pull her into the flames, into the fire that would incinerate them both.
“It will be okay,” Eli said, his gaze gentle. “Trust me.”
She couldn’t stand to look at him, afraid he might read her feelings in her face. The man she’d spent the evening with had been a stranger to her. This was not Eli, the best friend who’d gone uncomplainingly with her to see chick flicks, who never “took her out” to dinner but was always glad to “join” her, who looked away from her when she met his eye. This new Eli was steelier, more confident and more demanding. And he wanted something. He wanted her.
She had to stop this. Right now. She would cut him off. She would hurt him. Just like she’d done before. She would be terrible and cruel and hateful and say, No matter how much I wish it was true, telling people it’s your baby won’t make it yours…
But when she opened her mouth to speak, the words died on her lips. “Eli…”
The pad of his thumb slid along her neck, heat slicing through her like a blade. She inhaled sharply. All at once, her whole body remembered him. Reason was useless. No amount of logic could undo how he’d made her feel that night on the fields. How he was making her feel right now.
“Lana…” His gaze dipped down to her mouth, then rose back to her eyes.
Yes, she thought. Anything you want.
He stepped back. “The bathroom is over there.”
She nearly fell forward. She hadn’t realized she’d leaned all her weight on the balls of her feet. Cool air rushed around her, fanning her hot skin. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Are you okay?”
She laughed. “Am I okay?” But once she was inside the safety of the ladies’ lounge, she had to clasp her hands to keep them from trembling.
He was pushing her. Deliberately. Purposefully. She hated it. She loved it. She was out of her mind. She leaned her hands against the black granite sink and looked herself square in the eye. “Nope,” she said. “Not okay at all.”
Karin turned off the lights of the Wildflower Barn and set the alarm. An entire four days had gone by since she and Gene had talked about adopting Lana’s baby. And Karin congratulated herself for having had the strength not to bring it up. She walked to her car under thick autumn clouds and copper-tinted leaves. A footstep on the gravel parking lot made her jump out of her skin. And when she turned around, Calvert was there, lurking in that particular way of his. He wore old jeans and an old coat. He hadn’t shaved. She guessed his duffel bag was everything he had in the world.
“Hello, Karin.”
Her emotions churned. She wasn’t entirely surprised to see him; Lana had told her that he’d paid her another visit earlier this month. She looked over his grungy clothes and tired posture, and on one hand she thought, Good, he deserves to look that terrible. But on the other hand, her heart reached out to him, felt bad for him, and saw only a person in need of help. Her plan had worked perfectly; Calvert was officially homeless. And yet now that she’d gotten what she wanted, vengeance turned to acid in her throat.
She opened the car door and threw her purse inside.
“Karin, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. But I need… I need…”
“What?”
“I tried to handle it myself these last couple days,” he said. “But I need help.”
Her heart thumped in her chest. He needed help. He needed her help. He needed her.
She knew the man standing before her was her father, and yet for some reason she felt as if he was a complete stranger, like their pasts had been erased—or balanced out—and they were meeting as equals for the first time.
“I got nowhere to stay. They want me to leave town.”
“So what do you want me to do?” she asked.
Calvert hung his head. “Don’t know.”
Karin sighed. This wasn’t what she’d planned. She hadn’t wanted him to be homeless. She’d thought he would just disappear. Vanish back to wherever he came from. But here he was, calling on her for help.
Oh, Lord, she prayed silently.
How could she refuse him? Things were different now than when he’d first shown up and from when she’d set the police after him. Now that Lana was pregnant, she could see the direction her own life was heading. There was a baby in her future. Her near future. And she knew she had to be grateful for that. She’d made a promise before God to be a better person. If she refused to help Calvert now, it would be going back on her word.
Calvert went on. “I got a job working construction by the lake. Making eight bucks an hour under the table. Just ’til I get back on my feet. And I’ll be able to get a place soon. But I don’t start work for another few days. And I didn’t know what else to do, except to come see you.”
“I don’t know,” Karin said. To his credit, she couldn’t remember a time when he’d ever lied to her. But still, she didn’t trust him. She pressed her lips together and looked over the man who used to be her father, his scruffy work boots, his jeans that had been washed so many times they were more gray than blue. The picture he presented said he’d done real penance and now
he was begging at her proverbial door. She couldn’t refuse him. Especially since part of his misery had been caused directly by her.
“Karin, I know I messed up with you girls. And I probably shouldn’t have come back to town. But I thought… I thought I might be able to set things right. See if there was something I could do to make up for it all.”
Karin was silent.
He laughed, a hollow sound. “But now I messed up again.”
“Where have you been sleeping?” she asked.
“Here and there,” he said. “The weather’s been warm. It’s not so bad.”
She looked away from him, unable to imagine him sleeping on the ground. She hated to think he was unsafe. “How long do you need?”
“Well, I…”
“What if I just buy you a train ticket back to Wisconsin?”
“That’s nice of you. But I only need a few days. Three, tops. See, I—”
“Fine.” She leaned against the minivan, its paint still warm from the sun. “I can put you up in a motel for a little while.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much.”
She pointed at him and frowned. “And don’t think that because I’m helping you it means anything’s changed. I don’t like you. I never will.”
“I understand,” he said.
She hesitated. This was crazy. She felt as if she was opening a door for him to come back into her life. But maybe, a small voice inside her said, maybe this is what you’ve wanted all along. “This is only temporary,” she said.
Then she unlocked the door of the van and let him in.
September 25
Lana and Charlotte sat next to each other on matching chairs at the women’s clinic. Two teenage girls also sat together in the corner, so committed to their ferocious texting that there was no way to misinterpret their intense typing as anything but nerves. Under an old TV set that showed Julia Roberts and Cameron Diaz, an older couple sat leafing through month-old magazines. Lana had the urge to ask them, So what are you two in for? She stared at the wall of pamphlets before her, and a dozen drawings of worried faces stared back.
