“In my mind Jasmine will always be my wife, and she’ll always be in my heart. That doesn’t mean I can’t move on and love again.” He looked up at her. “Or have a family
with a friend.”
She caught her breath again, and then looked at the mess she’d caused in the hallway. “I’m sorry I ran you over. I’ll clean it up and get home.”
“How about we do it together and I’ll go get us some more. You need to eat.”
Together they loaded the broken pieces of glass onto the tray. Gabe walked back down stairs as Holly wiped away the last of the tomato bisque from the wall.
She went back into the apartment, rinsed out the rag, and set it in the sink. When she turned her head she noticed the picture on the table.
She walked across the room and picked it up. Gabe looked happy. She was envious. There had never been anything so special in her life like the love that Gabe shared with his wife.
Holly laid her hand on her stomach. She had that opportunity to have that something special now. All she had to do was embrace it.
Even better, she had someone who understood the special opportunity at hand, and he wanted to be part of it.
She took the picture and set it on the mantel, right in the middle.
Gabe dumped the broken bowls and glasses into the trash and wiped down the tray.
“Things not good with your date?” Juan, a line cook, teased.
“And what would make you think that?” He smiled wide, hoping they’d assume he was a klutz and not read more into it.
He filled two more bowls of soup and two more glasses with iced tea. Another loaf of bread and a few pats of butter were added to the tray and this time he added a slice of pie and stuck two forks in it. That would calm her down.
When he opened the door to the apartment he found her seated at the table with his grocery list and a pen.
“Are you going shopping?” he asked as he set the
tray down.
She gave a little chuckle. “Eventually. But I was just brainstorming some things I need to think about.”
He took a bowl of soup from the tray and set it in front of her. “What’s on your list so far?”
“I’m going to have to find a new doctor. Decide on a hospital. Buy a crib. Things like that.”
“Good idea.” He finished unloading the tray and noticed that she smiled at the slice of pie with two forks. “Nine months goes extremely fast.”
Gabe pulled two spoons from a drawer and handed her one before sitting across from her. “Do you have brothers or
sisters?”
“No.” She took the napkin he’d brought up and set it on her lap. “Only child.”
“Do you have anyone close to you who’s had a baby recently and could give you some good referrals?”
She shook her head. “Nope. Pretty sad, huh?”
“No, I didn’t mean that.” He stirred his soup around. “I’ll call my sister Maggie tomorrow. She’s in New York, but she can give us some ideas on what we should look for. Her youngest is only six months old. She’ll have the most recent information.”
“Your family really embraces anything you do?”
“One hundred percent.” He looked up from his bowl. “Yours doesn’t?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s just my life has always been a little backward, and this is no different. My mother tends to
cluck her tongue and shake her head at me when I tell her
new things.”
He lifted a spoon full of soup to his lips and blew on it. “Why is that?”
“Well, I was a bit of a prodigy.”
He shifted his eyes to her as he bent over his bowl of soup. “A prodigy?”
She nodded as she stirred her soup. “I was born two months early. I walked by nine months. I could read by three years old. I knew algebra at seven and graduated high school at fifteen.”
Gabe lowered his spoon. Was this going to be a genetic thing she passed on to their baby? “Wow. I had no idea.”
“I graduated top of my class in college when I was
nineteen.”
“Associate’s degree?”
“Double major in business and design.”
“You double majored in college in…” He did the math in his head. “Three years?”
“Yep. Not much of a social life when you’re three years younger than your peers.” She sipped her soup off the spoon. “This is really good.”
“My mother’s recipe. My uncle made it a staple on the menu.” Seated across from a prodigy who’d complimented his soup, he was suddenly at a loss for better words. Was she going to expect him to know great art? A foreign language? What if she wanted to look at his bookwork and check his math? The thoughts of her smartness and his—well, he didn’t think he was stupid, but at the moment he wasn’t feeling very adequate—buzzed in his head, and he took a long drink of tea to wet his dry mouth. “So, what did you do after college?”
“I went right into textile design with Tracy when she opened her company.”
“So you’ve done everything years before anyone normally would have.”
“Yep, I’ve put the cart before the horse my whole life. And now here I am pregnant and not married.”
“It is a little backward, but backward seems to have worked for you.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I won’t deny it. I’m successful and have a lot to show for it, but I missed out on so
many things.”
“Normality?” That sounded bad. He wanted to take it back, but she was laughing.
“Exactly.” She took another bite of soup then leaned forward on her arms. “My best friend was my next-door neighbor. She was my age but never invited me to any slumber parties because I didn’t know any of the other girls our age, since I was grades ahead of them in school.”
“That must have been hard.”
“I didn’t know any different.” She picked up the glass of tea and took a sip. “I never went to prom or a frat party. I’ve never TP’d anyone’s house or snuck out in the middle
of the night.”
He laughed, though he hadn’t meant to. “Sorry. I did all of those things and got busted each time.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. What would she think if he were to tell her stories of his life? Would she think he was a troublemaker? She’d probably been friends with the principal, but he was sure Mrs. Houston would remember him for a much different reason. He sat back up and ripped a piece of the bread loaf off. “So nothing was normal for you?”
“Not like you probably had. But don’t get me wrong, I had a good home life.”
“Then we make a promise right here right now. We will give our children a normal life.”
“Child,” she corrected him, and he felt the pang of sorrow in her statement.
“Child,” he acknowledged. “We will make sure he or she has sleepovers and overdoses on candy once in a while. My dad
took me to TP my first house, so I’ll take him. Or her.” He felt giddy. “This is going to be a fun adventure.”
“You’re planning on corrupting our child?” Her eyes had opened wide like he’d sentenced the child to a life of crime.
“No, just giving him a normal life.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “I think along the way I’ll give you some adventure too. You’re never too old to learn to have a
little fun.”
“You don’t think I’m fun?” Her mouth gaped open.
“I didn’t say that.” God, was he always going to have to watch his mouth? “I remember having a lot of fun with you.”
Her cheeks filled with color, and she looked away
from him.
How had she made it this far in her life so afraid of who she was? It burned in him, a need to show her that she was special and amazing. What would it take to make Holly understand that she was a gift to everyone who had the honor to know her? Especially him.
“Holly, let go a little. Just be
cause things in your life didn’t follow the big rule book of the universe, it doesn’t mean you can’t do fun things now.” He sat back and picked up his spoon. “By the way. My mother is planning a trip out here for Thanksgiving to meet you. I realize you probably will have plans with your family, but we’d like to have you over for dinner so you can meet my family.”
“That’s two months away.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, so.”
She set her hands in her lap. “I’ll make sure to be here.” She looked around the room and then back at him. “What did she say when you told her?”
He tossed his hands in the air and smiled at her. “She screamed out loud. She’s so excited she can’t wait.”
“But she doesn’t know me.”
“But I do.”
“And that’s okay with her? A total stranger is having your
baby and she thinks that’s great?”
“Well, Holly, you’re not much of a stranger, but yes. She’s very happy for us.”
“Who else have you told?”
“Well…” he bit off a piece of the bread in his hand. “I called all four of my sisters. My cousin Anne. My uncle of course and my Grandma Gertie.”
Holly ran her hand over her hair. “I guess it would have been easier to ask who haven’t you called.”
“How about you? Who have you told?”
“Tracy knows. She was as surprised as I was.”
“That’s it? Your boss?” He didn’t think he was so bad that she should hide him from the world. Wasn’t she the least bit excited about this baby? About him?
“Did you want me to take an ad out in the paper?”
“Don’t you think you should tell your parents?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” She sat back in her chair and put her napkin on the table. “I’m not in the mood to hear about it.”
How could he have chosen someone so unattached to family? He usually picked women so much like himself—not this time obviously. “Where do they live?”
“Boulder.”
“So you see them often?”
“Every couple of weeks or so.” She lifted her shoulders and dropped them again.
“And you don’t think your mother is going to see right through you?”
“Oh, she will. I won’t even have to tell her, and she’ll know. She’ll shake her head and give me her opinion on the matter. She’s traditional. I suppose even as a prodigy, I was a bit of a disappointment.” Her forehead wrinkled when she worried. It was charming, but he didn’t like knowing it meant she felt uncomfortable about the situation.
“I can go with you and we can tell them together.”
Holly shook her head and sat back up, leaning her arms on
the table. “It would be better for you to let me handle the grief she’ll give me, and then she can work on accepting you before she meets you.”
“Offer stands.” She was the mother of his child, but she was so closed off to him. He needed to be patient, no matter how difficult it was, and show her she could trust him enough to let him in. “I’m pretty good at winning over mothers.”
The next morning Holly dug into the paperwork on her desk. When had things begun piling up so much?
Besides, if she buried herself in her work, like she used to do, she could forget about how nauseated she felt.
Tracy opened the door. “You’re here early again.”
She looked up. “I’m so far behind.”
“You only took off one day.”
“Seems like a week. Did you get the graphics I e-mailed you last night? I think the line Sebastian is designing for next fall could use that pattern if you can sell it to him.”
Tracy shut the door behind her and walked to Holly’s desk. The bracelets on her arms clinked together. “You sent me that file at one this morning.”
“I was awake. I had to occupy my mind.”
“And what was keeping you awake? The owner of a fine food establishment?” Tracy asked as she picked up a snow globe Holly kept on her desk and gave it a shake.
Holly bit down on the side of her cheek and thought about Gabe. His face had etched itself in her mind. “If you must know, yes.”
Tracy smiled. “So tell me all about him.”
She shuffled through a report and took a yellow highlighter to a line. “He’s a very nice man. He’s very excited about the baby and wants to be part of everything.”
“That’s great. So what do you think? A little romance too?”
Just thinking of him made her chest tighten uncomfortably.
There was no way she could even consider more than
friendship.
“No.” She sat up straight and set the highlighter on the desk. “I made it perfectly clear that we would remain friends who share a child.”
“Huh, friends? Sounds boring.”
“It sounds logical.” Holly picked up the stack of papers from her desk and filed them in her drawer and wished she could file the conversation they were having along with them. “I’m already entering into this backward. The last thing I need is some guy pretending to pay attention to me because he knocked me up. He wants to be part of everything and raise this baby together, that’s fine. But I’m not looking for love.”
“Maybe you should.”
“He’s already married.”
Tracy’s jaw dropped and she let out a loud breath.
“Damn. Married?”
Holly rolled her shoulders to ease the tension building in them. “Okay, that’s not fair. He’s widowed.”
“Oh,” Tracy sighed sadly.
“Point is, neither of us needs more involvement than this. Don’t you think a baby is enough involvement?”
“Whatever you think.” Tracy stood and walked back to the door. “But he’s cute, right?”
“Gorgeous.” And didn’t that make things harder?
“Very nice. And you will be spending time with him?”
“He wants me to be at the restaurant every night so he can feed me.”
“Even better. And you’re telling your parents when?”
Holly let her hands fall onto her desk. “I’ll get around to it.”
“She’ll know the minute she looks at you.”
“I know.” Holly slumped in her chair. “I wish there was some way I could make her accept it, but she’s just going to fly off the handle.”
“You could get married.”
“Your opinion is no longer welcome. I have work to do.” She shooed her with her hand. “Go away.”
Tracy laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll send those designs to Sebastian and let you know what he thinks. And, Holly, congratulations on your baby. I never did tell you yesterday.”
Tracy shut the door, and Holly swiveled around to look out the window and over the city.
Marriage. It was a horrible thought, but it was a thought.
She should feel guilty that she was even thinking about it. He hadn’t asked her to marry him or even brought up the subject. However, if she let her mother believe she was getting married, it would keep her mother at bay for a while. It was genius.
She could hint that she was getting married. It would be a good segue into their meeting Gabe. Then in a week or so she could tell them about the baby. Maybe in a few months, she could tell her parents they were breaking up.
She’d never lied to her parents and she didn’t intend to do it now. It would be okay to lead into a misconception. Sure, it would sting, but it wouldn’t be going in to lie.
Her skin began to heat and her arms began to itch.
It would all be okay. If they liked Gabe, they’d be fine with him hanging around to raise the baby. She had to admit Tracy’s stupid idea might be her ticket. It was worth it for everyone involved if she twisted the truth just enough.
Holly picked up the phone and began to dial her mother’s phone number. If her voice didn’t shake too badly and set her mother into a mode of concern, she’d invite her to lunch and set it all in motion.
She hung up the phone, and the fear bubbled in her stomach and moved up into her throat. She ran down the hall to the bathroom. First she’d get sick, and then she’d call her mother.
Trudy Jacobs looked fabulous, as always, Holly thought as
she approached her mother in the Cheesecake Factory. She sat
at the table with a martini already in hand watching the people that passed by her.
She’d always carried herself with class. No one who met her would ever have known the woman grew up in a house with no running water because they couldn’t afford it or that she’d worn only hand-me-downs and clothes from the Goodwill—or that she’d left home with a man at the tender age
of fifteen.
Wasn’t it amazing what meeting a man could do to you? He could make you feel invincible, her mother always told her. And that wasn’t always a good thing.
Her mother had always made sure she understood that men could coax you into anything. Holly swore she’d never run away to be with a boy, but she felt the same kind of shame standing there watching her mother. She hadn’t run away or lied to be with a man, but now here she was in the exact situation her mother always warned her about. She rested her hand on her stomach and willed it to settle.
Of course, the man her mother had left her meek beginnings with, and married at such a young age, wasn’t Holly’s father. But it was because of her upbringing and her first husband that she’d set the bar so high for Holly. She’d been very clear about not wanting Holly to settle for less than what she deserved. And because Holly had such success with her job, wore the best clothes, drove the best car, and lived in the best place, it was not only a notch in her belt but in her mother’s as well. Not that she’d ever admit to Holly that she was proud of her.
“Hello, Mother.” Holly approached the table, and her mother turned toward her.
“Holly, don’t you look lovely.” She reached her hand to her and gave Holly’s fingers a squeeze, but she didn’t rise to hug her or give her cheek a kiss like most mothers would. “Sit. Sit. Would you like a martini?”
Cart Before The Horse Page 5
