by Beverly Farr
He’d written wonderfully romantic songs for her.
In time, he’d write sweet songs for the baby, too.
But would he be a good father? She couldn’t imagine him happily changing diapers or coping with a sick child. He got impatient when things didn’t go his way, which meant she might end up taking care of the baby with little help.
She pushed her doubts out of her mind. She worried too much. He’d be a fine father. She knocked.
Nigel answered the door. “Kelly. Come in.”
He wore nothing but a pair of silk boxing shorts. His muscled shoulders were covered with tattoos. She shivered, then stepped inside the entryway. She rubbed her arms. She’d never noticed before how dark his apartment was. As soon as they were married, she’d buy more lamps. She said, “I’ll wait while you put on a robe.”
He laughed and kissed her check. “You are such a prude. What are you going to do when we get married -- lock yourself in the bathroom like the proverbial virgin?”
That wasn’t a very nice comment, particularly when he had to know she wasn’t a virgin any more. She tucked her hair behind her ears. “Did I come at a bad time?” she asked.
“No. I just woke up and was fixing breakfast. Would you like some eggs?”
“No thank you,” she said primly. Eggs sounded disgusting today. All food sounded disgusting.
“Suit yourself,” he said, and wandered back to his kitchen, which smelled like bacon grease.
Since Nigel worked nights, he had a good reason for still walking around unshaven, in his underwear this late in the day, but she couldn’t help comparing him to Lars Henderson, who had looked so crisp and clean today in his classic suit and tie.
Lars. She didn’t want to think about him.
Kelly sat on Nigel’s black leather couch, but immediately stood back up, confused by a sense of uneasiness. What was the matter with her today?
Pregnancy hormones gone haywire were muddling her brain. Nothing seemed right. All she wanted to do was go back to her studio and work some clay. Getting her hands dirty usually calmed her thoughts.
But that was cowardly. Nigel deserved to know. She fixed a smile on her lips and went to the kitchen. Nigel was putting bread in the toaster. This was the man she’d chosen for the rest of her life. The father of her child. She put her arms around his bare waist and rested her head against his shoulder.
He jumped. “What are you doing?” he demanded sharply.
She shrank back.
He was immediately contrite. “Oh, babe, I’m sorry,” he said sweetly. “You startled me.”
She reached up and put her hand on the side of his face. “Kiss me,” she said. She wanted some reassurance that he loved her. That she was still attractive. That everything was going to work out and they’d be a happy family.
He kissed her long and deep. She felt nothing. What was wrong with her? He put his hands at her waist and pulled her closer. “Hey,” he said, nipping at her neck. “What’s the matter?”
He seemed to be holding her very tightly. Too tightly. she couldn’t breathe. She pushed her hands against his chest, and spoke without thinking. “I’m pregnant.”
He let go of her immediately. “That’s not funny, babe.”
“No, it’s not,” she agreed. “But it’s true. I spoke with my doctor today. She says I conceived the baby in March, and the only time it could have happened was during those days I don’t remember.”
Tell me I’m not crazy, she thought as she searched his familiar face. Tell me you love me and that everything is going to be okay. That you want the baby.
His eyes narrowed. “You still don’t remember anything?”
She shook her head.
He smiled nastily. “Well, Babe, you’ve got a problem, because I’m not the father.”
#
Kelly drove aimlessly around Dallas for several hours before going home. Her mother met her at the door. “Hurry, Kelly,” she said quickly. “You’ve got just enough time to jump in the shower and get dressed before we have to leave.”
Kelly stared at her with incomprehension. Her mother, fully dressed in a Chanel suit, tilted her head to one side and then to the other, as she put on a pair of glittering pearl and diamond earrings. Kelly asked, “Where are we going?”
“I can’t believe you forgot. Tonight’s your bridal shower at Cousin Estelle’s.”
“I can’t.” She couldn’t go. Not tonight. I’m no longer engaged, she thought, fighting hysteria. I’m pregnant, and I don’t know the father of my baby.
“Of course you can,” her mother insisted, and pushed her towards the large circular staircase. “You’ll feel like a new woman after you’ve taken a shower.”
If only that were true. Kelly felt as if she didn’t know who she was any more. She was in the middle of a nightmare.
If only it were a mistake.
But both pregnancy tests couldn’t be wrong.
She was pregnant.
But if Nigel wasn’t the father, who was? Nothing made sense.
But she couldn’t upset her mother with her worries.
Her mother took her arm. “I know you hate going to these things, but it’s better when you’re the guest of honor. Trust me.”
Somehow Kelly managed to get upstairs to her room. She took a shower with the water as hot as she could stand it, and got dressed in the pale blue sweater dress her mother had bought for her last birthday.
“Remember to put some make-up on,” her mother called through the door. “Cousin Estelle will be taking pictures.”
I can do this, Kelly told herself as she brushed her hair and made up her eyes. She twisted her hair up into an untidy bun on top of her head. After the other things she’d gone through in the past two days, a bridal shower was nothing. She should be able to sit and smile for two hours.
Because if she didn’t, she’d have to give a reasonable excuse, and she didn’t have a reasonable excuse.
Her father was sitting in the living room when she and her mother came downstairs. Margaret turned to Frank, “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself? You don’t want to come with us?”
Frank snorted. “Why would I want to go to a shower and listen to a roomful of women giggle over toasters and china? Besides, Lars is coming over to watch the baseball game with me. I’ll be fine.”
Lars? Her father sounded as if they were friends again. Kelly was glad they’d resolved their differences, but she didn’t want to run into Lars tonight.
Not after Nigel’s cracks about his being the baby’s father. It felt like everyone except her thought he was a likely candidate. She was afraid she’d be too embarrassed to look him in the eye.
So you’ve been cheating on me all this time. Let me guess -- It’s Henderson. Tell me, is bedding the boss’ daughter one of his perks, or is that why he got promoted?
She hadn’t realized before today that Nigel was jealous of her friendship with Lars. He didn’t think men and women could be friends without sex becoming an issue.
As if on cue, Lars knocked and opened the front door. He had taken off his suit jacket, but still wore the dress shirt and tie. Calm, steady, safe Lars. She refused to think of Nigel’s petty accusations.
“Anyone home?” Lars called, then saw Kelly and her mother. His face froze.
Kelly hurried to him and took his large hand in hers. “Let’s go,” she begged, inwardly alarmed at how high her voice sounded. “You wanted to talk, so let’s go. Right now.” She felt as if the foundations of her life were crumbling and she needed something strong to bolster her. She could trust Lars.
Margaret was surprised. “Honey, you can’t go out with Lars. You’ve got the bridal shower.”
Lars tightened his grip on her hand. His eyes glittered as they looked her over from head to toe, as if seeing her for the first time. Which was silly. He’d seen her all dressed up before. “You look very nice,” he murmured huskily.
He’d always liked blue, she thought, nervously twis
ting her pearl necklace, then wondered where that piece of information came from. He must have told her once before. “Thank you,” she said softly. Right now she appreciated every compliment.
“We do need to talk,” he said quietly, watching her closely. “Maybe after the shower, we could grab a bite --”
“No,” she said. “I’m not going to the shower. I can’t.”
Margaret frowned at Kelly. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you.”
A baby, Kelly thought hysterically. A baby’s gotten into me and I don’t know how.
“Frank?” her mother called. “Come tell your daughter that she has to go the bridal shower and she can talk to Lars later.”
Frank came into the front foyer. He looked at Lars and nodded, as if sending a silent message. “No, I think she should talk to Lars and skip the shower.”
Margaret stared at them as if they had all gone crazy. “I can’t believe it. What am I going to tell Cousin Estelle?”
#
Lars drove to his favorite Indian restaurant. Kelly was quiet, staring out the window. Lars kept sneaking glances at her, glad to be near her again.
Kelly was beautiful, with her thick brown hair, the curve of her shoulder, the little dimple by her lips when she smiled. He liked the way her dress softly molded itself to her slim figure. He’d loved her for so long, he couldn’t imagine being attracted to anyone else.
It was torture to watch her, remembering the feel of her, the scent of her skin, the taste of her, and to know that she remembered nothing.
In her mind, he was not her husband. He was just one of her father’s employees; a family friend. He was only seven years older than she, but she often treated him as if he were as old as her father.
Until those few days in March.
He’d known she was upset. She was mad at Nigel and said they’d broken off the engagement. “Dance with me,” she’d said. Then later that evening, “Kiss me.” And finally, “Marry me.”
He’d known he was taking advantage of her vulnerability, but at the time, he hadn’t cared. He’d convinced himself that she finally saw him as the man who truly loved her.
He was a fool.
When they arrived at the restaurant, he asked her if she wanted to go inside or wait in the car.
“I’ll come inside. Maybe it will give me some ideas.”
He walked around to her side of the car and opened her door. She stepped out. How lovely she was tonight in her dress and high heels. Her skin glowed with health and a few wisps of her hair had fallen down around her ears. His body ached with desire. It was all he could do to keep from leaning over and kissing her sweet mouth. If he kissed her, would she remember, or would she pull away, offended and alarmed?
She walked with him into the restaurant and stood in the entry way, admiring the brightly colored beaded wall hangings. “Henderson,” he told the cashier, and in a few minutes, there were several plastic sacks filled with containers for them to carry out.
Kelly looked at the stack of Styrofoam containers and smiled. “That’s a lot of food.”
“These are mine. Yours are still in the kitchen.”
The cashier said, “Pardon me? Is your order not complete?”
“No, it’s fine,” Lars reassured, regretting his poor attempt at humor.
“I love your necklace,” Kelly said to the cashier. “Does the elephant have a special meaning?”
“Yes, it represents good luck and prosperity.”
“I could use an elephant,” Kelly said as they returned to his car.
“We all could,” Lars agreed. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to tell her that they were married, but he could use all the good luck he could get.
They ended up at her studio, a converted small three bedroom home that she’d bought a few years earlier. She’d torn out the walls between the living room and the kitchen to make one big workroom. One bedroom was filled with shelves for inventory and works in progress. The second contained her electric kilns. The third held her loom. Everything was simple and clean, stripped down to the barest essentials. In the corner of the workroom was a mattress where she sometimes slept.
They sat on the cool cement floor of her workroom to eat. “You’ll get your pants dirty,” she exclaimed as he sat down across from her.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. Kelly had only one chair at her studio, the one she sat on when she worked at her wheels. She rarely allowed company to visit, and he was honored that she’d invited him inside.
“At least let me get you a pillow,” she said, and walked to one of the back rooms. She returned with two huge bright green square pillows.
He fingered the nubby texture. “Did you weave these?”
She frowned. “Yes, but the customer who special ordered them, decided she wanted a bluer green, so now I’m stuck with them.”
Lars sat on his pillow. “You need to take your money up front on special orders,” he said.
Kelly rolled her eyes and didn’t say anything. She sat down as well, slid her feet out of her high heeled pumps and wiggled her toes. She asked, “Why do women put themselves through such torture?”
“Because you’ve got great legs and you want to show them off?”
She looked at him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief. “It’s all foolishness,” she said and rubbed her toes. She sighed. “Ah, that feels good.”
He’d heard that sigh before, and his body immediately tightened at the memory.
She saw him watching her. “You can take off your shoes, too.”
“I’m fine,” he said stiffly. The last thing he wanted was to start removing clothes.
She reached over to loosen his tie. The touch seemed to sear through him, making him shake. “Come on, Lars, relax a little,” she urged and started to undo the top button of his shirt. “Breathe.”
He’d given in to temptation once before, and he had no intention of giving in again. He pushed her hand away and shifted back, out of her reach. “I’m fine.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, and rose to her feet. “I’m going to get out of this dress and change into something more comfortable.”
He had a sudden mental image of her wearing nothing but his dress shirt, kneeling on the hotel bed. He wasn’t sure how comfortable he’d be if she became more comfortable.
He stood up and walked to the large window of what used to be the living room to stare outside at the street. Cool it, he told himself. Remember she thinks of you as a friend, not a lover.
But can’t I be both? a voice in his head asked.
No, the calm side of him countered. Don’t be selfish. You know what will happen if you expect more than she can give. She loves Nigel, not you.
When Kelly came back, she was wearing a baggy gray t-shirt with the word KPots across her chest and black knit yoga pants that hugged her thighs and bared her ankles. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and washed her face free of make-up. This is how he liked her best, he realized: completely relaxed, natural. There was no pretense about Kelly, no games. That’s why he loved her.
And why he knew she didn’t love him.
Now would be a good time to talk. “Kelly,” he began in a serious tone, but she held up her hand.
“Not yet. I can tell you want to talk about something dreadful. You’re using your CEO voice. Can’t it wait until after we’ve eaten?”
He smiled. “Yes, of course.” He was postponing the inevitable, but why not? This way, he could enjoy the meal and her friendship before everything changed.
“Good, because I’m starving.”
She opened a box of Butter Chicken and scooped it out onto a plate. On top of this she poured black lentils and followed it with chickpea curry. She brought a dripping bite to her mouth. “Wow, this is the best thing I’ve eaten in days.”
He smiled. She dived into life as she dived into her food. No holding back. He often wished he could be as spontaneous and free as she.
She pointed to his plate w
ith its neatly separated foods. “You know it tastes better if you mix it all up.”
“Food as collage?”
She laughed and for a few minutes they ate in companionable silence. Then she reached across him to get another piece of leavened flatbread. For an instant her arm brushed his chest, and he fought the urge to grab and kiss her.
“Excuse me,” she said, and smiled, sitting back on her heels. “I’m so glad you came with me tonight. I was feeling low, and whenever you’re around, I feel better. Stronger.” She chewed a bite of her Naan and swallowed, eying him thoughtfully. “It must be your take-charge attitude. Somehow I know that you’ll always be there for me.”
Except when he hurt her. “Kelly, I --”
She didn’t let him finish. “Today I was thinking about the time you talked Dad into letting me drop out of college. He was scared I’d end up working in a fast food place, but you convinced him I was ready to open my own studio and sell my pottery.” She waved her arm to showcase the large room filled with her supplies. “You helped me do all this, and I’ve never thanked you, so I’m doing it now.”
Knowing what he knew, it killed him to hear her gratitude.
She said, “You and Brenda are my best friends.”
Every word was like a slap in his face. “Kelly, we need to talk.”
She nodded. “I know, but me first, okay?”
He sighed. What difference would a few more minutes make? “Whatever you want, Kelly.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. “Thanks. I need to spill it all out before I lose my courage.”
Courage? Had she remembered something?
“First I need to tell you about a car accident I had two months ago.”
“Frank told me.”
“Good, so you know that it wasn’t serious, but I lost a few weeks’ memory.”
“Yes.”
She seemed relieved not to have to give him all the details. She clutched her hands together in her lap. “The next thing I have to tell you is that I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant? The word exploded like fireworks in his mind. Was he the father? He’d never considered that possibility. But he hadn’t used any protection. Neither one of them had been prepared, and at the time, it hadn’t seemed important.
