They stood as far apart from each other as the small room allowed. Gabby was by the counter, the teen was by the tub. Silence filled the space, pressing in on them.
“I’m sorry,” the teen whispered. “I’m sorry.”
Me, too. Not that Gabby could say that. She couldn’t say much of anything. Right this second, it was hard to catch her breath. Her chest was tight, her legs shaking. Makayla was pregnant. That changed everything. What were they going to do? Worse, she was faced with the dilemma of when to tell Andrew. The how would come later. Unless...
“Do you want to tell your dad or should I?”
“Could you?”
No! I couldn’t. Only she was the adult. She was the one who had to stay calm and sensible and understanding. She had to be the rock when on the inside she simply wanted to scream. Take the high ground, as her mother had once advised her. Only Marie would never have imagined this moment. No one could.
“After the twins are in bed,” she whispered, trying to figure out what she was going to say. “I’ll tell him and then we’ll come talk to you.”
Makayla’s eyes were huge and filled with tears. Her lips trembled. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“I know.”
Gabby wanted to grab her girls and run. She wanted not to have to worry about this. Not deal with it. Not have their lives forever altered. But if she was this scared of the future, what must her stepdaughter be feeling? She was only fifteen.
“We’ll figure it out,” she said with false cheer. “You’ll see.”
“You think?”
“Of course.” Gabby walked over to her and hugged her. “It’s going to be okay.”
Makayla surprised her by hanging on tight. By hugging back as if she would never let go. The girl started to cry. Harsh, choking sobs that shook her body and left her gasping. Gabby stayed close and prayed that she wasn’t lying. That everything really was going to be all right. But in her heart, she knew it wasn’t.
* * *
“We have to talk.”
Andrew looked more amused than worried as he stretched out on their bed. “I got that from the way you pulled me into the bedroom.” He patted the space next to him. “Come on. You can tell me what’s going on while I feel you up.”
“This is serious.”
His smile faded and he sat up. “You have my attention, Gabby. What is it? The girls seemed fine at dinner. Makayla was a little quiet. Did you two have a fight?”
She twisted her hands together. Sitting wasn’t an option. She had to stand or better yet, pace. Only, she wanted to be looking at him as she told him. She wanted to know what he was thinking. If he blamed her. Because she was worried about that. Being blamed.
“Gabby?”
“Makayla’s pregnant. We did three different pregnancy tests. They were all positive.”
Andrew went completely still. For a second, she wasn’t sure if he was even breathing. Then he swore—angry words directed at no one but upsetting all the same.
He rose until he was standing in front of her.
“You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Boyd?”
“I don’t know. Honestly, there hasn’t been time. I went and got the tests and she took them. By then the twins were done with their movie and I had to start dinner.”
She was shaking. Everything hurt. Nothing felt right. She was braced for him to start yelling at her, to tell her what she’d done wrong. Even though Andrew never did that.
Was it her own guilt? If she’d tried harder with the teen. If they were closer.
Andrew charged out of the room. Gabby hurried after him. He opened Makayla’s door without knocking. She sat on her bed, her back against the pillows, her knees drawn up to her chest. She’d been crying and wiped her face when they entered.
“Is it Boyd?” Andrew asked.
Makayla nodded.
He turned around and walked out.
Gabby stared after him. What?
“Daddy, no!”
But Andrew didn’t listen to his daughter’s plea. He disappeared and a few seconds later, Gabby heard the slam of his office door, which was a whole lot better than the garage door opening. At least he wasn’t going to confront the teenage father-to-be right now.
She stood in the center of the room, not sure what to do. Makayla began to cry again. Gabby sucked in a breath, then went over to the bed and sat down. Makayla threw herself at Gabby, wrapping her arms around her waist and burying her head in her lap.
“It’s going to be okay,” Gabby said automatically, stroking the girl’s back. Like this, broken and hurt, Makayla seemed younger. Smaller.
“It’s not. He hates me.”
“He’s known for fifteen seconds. Maybe he gets some time to figure out how to deal with the information.”
“You didn’t reject me when you found out.”
“Your father hasn’t rejected you, but he does need to process all this. He loves you and we’ll get through this as a family.” Was she saying the right thing? Was there a right thing?
She sat there while the girl cried. After a few minutes, the tears quieted and the teen sat up.
Gabby touched her cheek. “You’re a mess. Still way too beautiful, but a mess.”
Makayla didn’t smile. “What am I going to do?”
“Wash your face, brush your teeth and get into bed. The rest of it can wait. You’re not having the baby tomorrow. I’ll talk to your dad tonight and we’ll come up with a plan.”
Makayla nodded and climbed off the bed. She walked to the bathroom, then turned back to Gabby.
“Can you stay until I fall asleep?”
An unexpected request. “Of course.”
“Do you hate me?”
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m not happy, if that’s what you’re asking. But I’m going to guess you’re not happy, either. We’ll deal. Nobody hates you.”
Makayla nodded. For a second Gabby was afraid she was going to ask the next logical question. Do you love me? Of course she would say yes, but she wasn’t sure it was the truth. Loving Makayla wasn’t easy. The teen pushed her buttons. And right now, well, it wasn’t anything she wanted to talk about. But Makayla didn’t ask, so there was no need to lie.
Less than ten minutes later, Makayla was in bed. Gabby pulled up the chair from her desk and sat close. The only light came from the half-open door and the hallway beyond.
She’d thought Andrew might return to say something, but he hadn’t. While Makayla had been in the bathroom, Gabby had crept into the twins’ room and pulled out a couple of books. Now she opened the first one.
“You’re not going to read to me,” her stepdaughter said. “I’m too old.”
“It will help you fall asleep.”
Gabby opened the first book. It was a chapter book by Jane O’Connor in the Fancy Nancy series. “Nancy Clancy, Super Sleuth,” she began. “Chapter One.”
It took a while, but eventually Makayla fell asleep. Gabby put the chair back, then walked out into the hall. She left the door open a little and the overhead light on. In case the teen woke up. Then she made her way downstairs.
She was tired. No, bone-weary. In a few short hours, everything had changed. She didn’t know how this was going to end, but it wasn’t going to be good. She could feel it.
She walked into Andrew’s office. He sat behind his desk, staring at the wall. When he saw her, he rose and crossed to her. After taking her hands in his, he looked into her eyes.
“I’m sorry. I was wrong. About Boyd and the kissing. I should have listened to you.”
She nearly melted with relief. “I had no idea they were so involved. This is a mess. It’s been awful, trying to act norm
al, waiting to tell you.”
“You had to. We couldn’t discuss this with the twins around.” He pulled her close. “I hate that sniveling little shit for doing this to her, but that’s beside the point. We have to figure this out. Talk about a giant fuckup.”
Despite everything, she giggled. “That’s one way to put it.”
He looked at her. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “No pun intended.”
“Too bad.”
He put his arm around her and led her to the sofa under the window. “What do you think we should do?”
“Talk to her and find out when this all happened. Talk to his parents. Present a united front.”
He nodded. “That makes sense. I also have to make things right with Makayla in the morning. I need to remember I’m upset with the situation, but she’s still my daughter.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m so lucky to have you, Gabby. We’ll figure this out and go forward together.”
Exactly what she wanted to hear, she thought, as she smiled at him. As long as they were united, they would get through this.
* * *
“I know why they didn’t want that one,” Rob said as he stared at the murky purplish-brownish color on the side of the paint can. “It had to have been a mistake.”
“I hope so.” Hayley pointed to another can on the shelf in the back of the hardware store. “What about these?”
“Yellow? Not my favorite. You know, we could just buy the color we want. It’s paint. We can probably afford it.”
Hayley shook her head. “Come on. Think of this as a challenge. Or a scavenger hunt. We’ll use the money for something else.”
She had a feeling he was thinking window coverings or carpeting while she was thinking Switzerland, but they were having such a good time this morning. There was no reason to mention that.
“If we don’t find anything we like, we’re picking a color.”
“Agreed.”
They continued to study the shelves of discounted paint cans.
“Hey, look at this one.” He held up a can with a brush of sage green on the side. “It’s kind of nice.”
She walked over and studied the color. It was just the right shade of green. Not too yellow and not too dark.
“I like it a lot. How many cans are there?”
“Three. Which should be enough. We’ll need to do a coat of primer because the walls haven’t been painted in so long but we can get that tinted.” He glanced at her. “They tint for free, so don’t freak.”
“I don’t freak.”
“About money? Yeah, you do. So we’re sold on the sage?”
“We are.” She smiled at him. “You’re so handy.”
“Just one of my many charms. Come on. Let’s go get the primer.”
When the paint had been loaded into their cart, they made their way to the garden section. The morning was warm and sunny, even with the awning overhead. Plants were laid out in rows—some on tables with the larger ones on the ground, grouped by type—shade, flowering, annuals, perennials. Now that their front yard had been cleaned up, it was in obvious need of fresh plants. But there were too many choices.
Hayley looked around at all the offerings, then back at Rob. “I don’t know anything about plants. You?”
“Same.”
“We could ask someone.”
“You’re assuming we know the questions.”
“Oh, right.” She pointed to the roses. “I know what they are. I think they’re a lot of work.”
“Then not for us.”
She sighed. “I’m clueless.”
“But pretty and that counts, right?”
She pretended to slug him in the arm. “Very funny. So maybe we should go home with what we have and walk the yard. Figure out what’s dead, what just needs watering and come up with a plan. Then we can go online and learn a few basics before coming back.”
“An excellent idea.” He kissed her lightly. “Not so clueless after all.”
They made their way through the Saturday afternoon crowd and got in line to pay for their purchases. After loading everything in the car, they drove home and carried the cans and paint supplies into the house.
They’d already emptied the master of everything but their bed and the dresser. They would take the curtains down in the morning, just before they started painting. Hayley picked up a roll of blue tape.
“I’ll start with the baseboards if you want to do the windows,” she said.
Rob took the tape from her and dropped it onto the floor. “Or we could do something else,” he whispered right before he kissed her.
The feel of his mouth on hers was nice, but surprising. When his arms came around her, she knew exactly what he wanted.
“I don’t know if I’m ovulating,” she admitted. She hadn’t taken her temperature in weeks. There hadn’t been any point. Between her body recovering from the miscarriage and the way the last batch of hormones had messed her up, she had no idea where she was in her cycle.
“That’s okay,” he said, kissing along her jaw before moving to her neck.
But what about Switzerland? A question she thought but didn’t vocalize. Because nothing could happen before then. She had to let her body recover before the treatments began.
“But I...”
Understanding dawned just as Rob straightened. His brows drew together in annoyance.
“Not everything has to be about getting pregnant,” he told her. “We’re married. We used to do this just for fun.”
Guilt burned hot and bright in her belly. Not only because she wasn’t telling him her plans but because he was right. There had been a time when they’d wanted to make love all the time for no reason other than it felt good to be with each other. Their first year of marriage, they’d made love every day, sometimes more. They’d laughed and touched, smug in the knowledge that they would be in love forever.
He stepped away.
“Rob, wait.”
He looked at her for a long time. “Is it ever not about getting pregnant?”
“Of course.” The words were automatic. “It’s just...”
“That’s what I thought. I’ll be in the garage.”
She let him go. She could have called him back, could have gone to him and kissed him. Could have held him. Changing his mind wouldn’t be that difficult. Instead she sank onto the floor and sat cross-legged on the carpet.
She hurt all over. Not just the usual cramping, but everywhere. Her arms and legs were too heavy. She wasn’t sleeping well. Wanting a baby wasn’t a crime, she told herself as she rested her head in her hands. She wasn’t a bad person. Rob had to understand that.
The problem was, she was pretty sure he did understand. But the journey had gone on too long, and understanding wasn’t going to be enough anymore.
* * *
Boyd’s parents lived on the Torrance side of Mischief Bay. It was a pretty two-story house on a small lot. Gabby would guess there had once been a cute little bungalow that had been torn down to make room for the larger home. It was happening all over.
The yard was manicured, the front door freshly painted and the living room pristine. Gabby thought of the endless stream of books, stuffed animals, dog and cat toys, books and dolls she was constantly picking up in her own family room. Given three days’ notice, she couldn’t get close to her house being as well-ordered as this one.
The living room had been decorated in a palette of white, ice blue and pale gray. Two large sofas faced each other. She and Andrew sat in one while Boyd’s parents sat in the other. The teenagers were perched on two chairs. They weren’t physically together, but they still seemed oddly united.
Boyd was a tall, skinny sixteen-year-old with too-long dark hair and hunched posture. Looking at him, Gabby would
guess he was more into computer games than sports. Surprising. She would have guessed Makayla was more the jock type. But what did she know? This time last week she would have laughed off the notion of her fifteen-year-old stepdaughter being pregnant.
His parents—Thomas, not Tom, and Lisa—had identical looks of disapproval and judgment, with a bit of pinchy face thrown in. Gabby had the brief thought that she should have downed a shot of something before the drive over. Maybe being tipsy would take the edge off. An inappropriate giggle wouldn’t make things any worse.
At least Candace wasn’t here to add her two cents to the uncomfortable mix. Andrew had put a call in to her, not saying what was wrong, but asking to speak to her. She’d texted back saying she was traveling in Europe and couldn’t possibly be bothered until she was home.
Gabby looked around at the tall vases, the view of the pool, the draperies that were probably silk. The differences in their lifestyles weren’t about money. They were about having five-year-olds and pets. Gabby resisted the urge to glance down at her shirt to make sure there weren’t any stains.
She became aware of the silence filling the room. Since the slightly awkward introductions, there hadn’t been any conversation. She reached for Andrew’s hand. He gave hers a slight squeeze, then took a breath.
“It seems we have a problem,” he began.
“We do.” Lisa, a tall, slender brunette with small eyes, turned her attention to Gabby. “A problem your daughter created.”
Gabby stiffened. “Excuse me?”
“If you’d known what was going on in your own house, none of this would have happened. Don’t you have rules?”
Of course they had rules, Gabby thought, not sure what to say. Rules that had been broken.
“We didn’t do it there,” Makayla said quickly. “It was here. Both times.”
“Back at you,” Gabby told Lisa, even as she wanted to scream at the heavens. Twice? They’d done it twice and Makayla had ended up pregnant? She knew the biology, so of course it was possible, but hardly fair.
The other woman flushed. “I’m not sure the where is what matters.”
Right. Because it had mattered three seconds ago.
The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) Page 12
