by Laura Abbot
Pam held up her hands. “I surrender. I’ll check my calendar and get back to you.”
All day Pam felt buoyant, carried along by productive responses from her classes and appreciation for the thoughtfulness of her colleagues. During her planning period, she typed a quiz, then picked up the sophomore journals, chuckling over Chip Kennedy’s account of his first date and wiping a tear away at Angela’s description of her grandmother’s lingering illness. Then she came to Andy’s.
You know how sometimes you feel really good about yourself and then other times you feel like crap? Embarrassed or ashamed of yourself? But it’s like you can’t do anything about it? Can’t change anything? Well, that’s how I’m feeling. I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, but I need advice. It’s about your baby.
See, Dad’s all excited about having this kid. And it’ll be great and all, but I’ve got this big, immature worry. Okay, I’ll just say it. I’m afraid Dad’ll be closer to this kid than to me. This baby will live with him all the time. Grow up with him. They’ll do kid stuff like go to Disney movies, rake leaves together and play hoops in the backyard. They’ll build lots of memories. More than me and Dad have. It’s not that I won’t like this baby. I mean, it’s not his fault for Pete’s sake. But what about me?
Dear God, Pam thought as she laid Andy’s journal aside. Things were better between Andy and Grant, much better than they’d been before Andy’s concussion, but he still needed so much more from his father.
And what he needed most of all was the truth.
Somehow she had to convince Grant they had to tell Andy about the baby’s parentage. And about their “marriage.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“NO!” INCREDULOUS, Grant gaped at Pam. How could she suggest telling Andy the truth about the baby’s parentage? About their agreement?
Pam sat calmly on a chair in the coach’s office where she’d tracked him down over the lunch hour. He paced the narrow confines of the room, before finally coming to a halt. “This is not negotiable.” He raked a hand through his hair. “Where did you come up with such a nutty idea, anyway?”
Pam gathered her skirt, crossed her leg, then neatly arranged the folds of material. “That doesn’t matter. Trust me, though, Andy needs to know.”
“Trust you? What is this? Another of your ‘confidential’ pieces of information about my son?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Well, what is it like? Have you forgotten I’m the boy’s parent, not you?” He couldn’t believe this was happening.
“That’s exactly why we have to tell him.” When she looked up at him, he averted his gaze from her plaintive hazel eyes. “He’s had enough manipulations and half-truths in his young life. How can he trust either one of us if we aren’t honest with him?”
“Why now? Just when I feel as if I’m getting close to him? The boy’s been desperate for family. Why destroy his illusions?”
“He’ll find out in September anyway.”
Grant slumped against the edge of his desk. Her words had robbed his lungs of oxygen. Apparently he’d been fooling himself to think about a future with her. “Can’t we give him this one year, at least?”
“And then what? Is it going to be any easier in September when he believes he has a half brother or sister and a real home?”
She had him there. All his rationalizations couldn’t negate the fact that he’d lied to his son, by his words and by his actions. They both had—and the facts would eventually come out. Pam leaned forward in her chair. “It’s important, Grant.”
His anger faded, replaced by overbearing weariness. “And what about you?”
“What about me?”
“We’ve managed to keep the secret of the baby’s parentage pretty well.”
She lowered her eyes. “I told Dad.”
That was news to Grant, but he wasn’t terribly surprised. “I’d trust Will with my life. But do you really think we can burden a fifteen-year-old boy with such a momentous secret? It would take only one slip and it would be all over school.”
“I’ve thought about that, but if we trust Andy, it’s a risk we need to take. Whatever agreement the two of us may have made, I care for him. I don’t want my personal situation to create any further barriers to your relationship with him.”
“He’ll be devastated.”
“Yes, at first I imagine he will. But we can’t go on living a lie. Your son needs to be able to trust you completely. He’s your family.” She stood slowly, one palm making small, nervous circles on her amply rounded stomach. “He needs to know he always has come first with you and always will.”
He folded his arms across his chest and studied her face. In it he read concern, sadness, but above all, conviction. She’d been right about Andy in the past. Hell, her instincts had always been better than his. But this was asking too much. “Let me think about it,” he said.
Never taking her eyes off his, she nodded. “Fair enough.”
THERE WAS NO MORE CUDDLING in bed. After her conversation with Grant in his office, Pam hadn’t expected there to be, but she desperately missed both their physical and emotional closeness. Despite their accuracy, his words had cut her. Have you forgotten I’m the boy’s parent, not you? Somewhere along the way, the lines had blurred. At times they had felt so much like a family.
Not anymore.
Even her father had noticed, but she’d passed off his concern by saying Grant was intensely focused on basketball. Which was true. The team played a minimum of two games a week, above and beyond practices. Andy had become an integral part of the team, and his pride and satisfaction were evident. He was happier, more confident.
Ten days had passed since she’d broached the subject of telling Andy. Finally one evening, when Grant came to bed, he fluffed the pillows and sat, half reclining, his hands folded on his chest. “Okay,” he said, as if carrying on from their original conversation. “I’ve thought about it.”
Barney was tight against her rib cage, making it hard to breathe. “And?”
“I’d like to wait until after the season. Andy’s got enough on his mind now with school and basketball. That’ll still give him a month or more to get used to the idea before the baby comes.”
They’d waited this long, what difference would another few weeks make? The main thing was that Andy would know he, and he alone, was his father’s son. “That sounds reasonable.”
“There’s one more thing.”
Even though the double bed was narrow, the distance between them seemed to grow exponentially. “What’s that?”
“Could we wait until summer to tell him…about September? The baby’s enough news to lay on him at one time. Anyway, by summer, he’ll be thinking about going back to Florida and maybe the marriage thing won’t seem so monumental to him.”
Pam closed her eyes. Was this to be the never-ending drama? This final act would be even harder to carry off, because she stood to lose so much—a son, a father for her baby and, most important, her best friend, the man she loved. “All right. One piece at a time.” She rolled on her side, hoping the baby would reposition himself. “You pick the time.”
“Fine.”
Regret for what might have been kept her wide-awake. Beside her, she sensed that Grant, too, lay sleepless.
At first, she wasn’t sure he’d spoken her name. But then he went on in a tight, controlled voice. “About the childbirth classes. Do you still want me to go?”
Was he opting out? Or did he suppose she’d reject him now? She thought about the alternatives. Connie or Ginny would do it, but they’d wonder why her husband wasn’t her birth coach. Going through the emotional experience of the classes and the birth with Grant would break her heart.
But without him?
Unthinkable. She wanted to share this special time with the man she loved, whether or not he could reciprocate her feelings. “Yes, Grant, I do.”
GRANT HAD THOUGHT basketball practices were difficult. They were nothing compare
d to these childbirth classes. Bad enough were the graphic descriptions and films, but cradling Pam, breathing with her, torturing himself about the baby and the end of their marriage? It was like riding the bench with a career-ending injury.
No matter how hard he tried, two things Pam had said led him to the unmistakable conclusion that, for her, their marriage always had been nothing more than a mere arrangement. He’ll find out in September anyway. As if it was a foregone conclusion. But the clincher was He’s your family. So much for his grandiose visions of the four of them—Andy, the baby, Pam and him—coming together as the family of his dreams.
The chipper voice of the birth instructor intruded into his thoughts. “Next week we’ll be showing some basic infant-care procedures. Feeding, burping, bathing, changing diapers. You fathers ready for that last one?”
Some of the other men managed hollow laughs, but all Grant could think was that he wouldn’t even be around long enough for the baby’s first tooth.
On the way home, both he and Pam were silent. What was there to say? Where was the happy anticipation? “Have you picked out the new wallpaper?” he asked. A safe, neutral topic.
“Yes, but it’s your house. You should make the final decision.”
His house. His son. “That’s not necessary. I trust your taste.”
“I’ll call the paperhanger, then.”
“Next week’s our last game. Unless we get into the play-offs, which looks doubtful.”
She looked sharply at him. “But if you’d had Beau Jasper?”
“Don’t go there.” He worked on mellowing his tone. “Watching Andy blossom has been worth a play-off berth.” That didn’t necessarily pacify the other team members, but it was funny how things had a way of working out. Some things, he added bitterly.
“How do you want to go about telling Andy?”
He didn’t want to think about it. Things were so great for Andy right now. “I’ll be there, but the way I figure it, the baby’s your show.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, you have a better touch with him than I do.”
“It’s not a competition.”
“Right.” But it sure felt like one.
SAYING GOODBYE to her father was harder than Pam had anticipated. He’d been such a comfort—and a much-needed buffer—but he had almost fully recovered, getting around with only a cane, and was chomping at the bit to get home. Until he saw with his own eyes, he said, he wouldn’t believe his neighbor could take adequate care of his horses.
That Saturday morning in early March after Grant and Andy had loaded Will’s suitcases in the car, they all gathered in the kitchen for the farewells. Will clamped his hands on Grant’s shoulders. “Take care of these two,” he nodded at Pam and Andy. “And lemme know as soon as that new young ’un makes his appearance.”
“Or hers,” Pam reminded him yet another time.
Then Will turned to Andy. “As for you? You have a happy birthday, hear? And just because you get that driver’s license doesn’t mean you have to act like a damn fool.”
“I won’t, Gramps.” Andy stood with his hands tucked in the back pockets of his jeans. “After the baby gets here, I wanna come visit you and Pepper.”
“I’m countin’ on it.”
Andy took a step forward. “Uh, thanks for everything. You know. The advice and all.”
Will cocked his head, studying the young man in front of him. “I’m right proud of you, son. Right proud.” He hesitated, then pulled Andy into a bear hug. “Aw, hell. I’m gonna miss you like the dickens.”
“Me, too,” Andy whispered raggedly.
When Will drew back, he pulled out his bandanna and wiped his nose. “Somebody musta spilled pepper in here.” Then he turned to Pam. “Come out to the car with me, dumplin’.”
She tucked her arm through her father’s and walked alongside him. At the car he paused, squinting at her as if she were a specimen under a microscope. “One day you’re gonna have to tell the man.”
“What?”
“That you love him. Don’t like to say this about my own kind, but men are dense. If you don’t tell him, how else is he gonna know? No self-respecting male’s gonna risk his pride if he thinks he’ll be rejected. Or worse yet, laughed at.”
“But he could just as easily reject me.”
Her father put his arm around her, rubbing her back as he continued. “Well, then, I guess you’ll always wonder what coulda been, won’t you?” He eyed her shrewdly. “Never knew you to be a coward, though.”
“Oh, Daddy.” She threw her arms around him, aware, with a wonderful intimacy, that his grandchild was sheltered between them. “I’ll miss you.”
“Take care, honey.” He drew back. “And call me the minute you have that baby.”
She stood, hugging herself against the strong early March wind, as his car disappeared from sight.
Now it was just the three of them.
And the moment of truth.
GRANT SAT on the sofa after lunch, hands clamped on his knees. Waiting. Dreading. Pam entered from the kitchen, trailed by Andy, who paused awkwardly in the door. “So whaddya wanna talk to me about?”
Pam gestured to the easy chair before taking her seat on the sofa beside Grant. She picked up an orange textured pillow and clutched it over her stomach, almost as if protecting the baby from the anticipated fallout from their discussion. Andy, looking warily from one to the other of them, perched on the edge of his chair, poised on the balls of his feet. Sensing the tension in the room, Grant rubbed his hands over his thighs and began. “We want to talk with you about trust.”
“What’d I do now?”
“Nothing,” Grant said. At the same time Pam murmured, “Not a thing.”
Pam caught Grant’s eye, signaling that she’d take the lead from here. “Remember when you asked me to keep your confidence about playing basketball in the park?”
Andy nodded, one leg moving up and down like a piston.
“And I did.” She toyed with the fringe of the pillow. “But honoring your request meant I betrayed your father’s trust.”
“How do you figure?”
“He is your parent. I’m not. He had a right to know what you were doing after school.”
“What’s the big deal? Everything turned out all right, didn’t it?”
“Yes, this time,” Grant interjected. “But Pam and I have been talking.” He looked at her to secure her support. She inclined her head slightly. “We’ve expected honesty from you, but we haven’t been totally honest in return.” He gulped, finding this whole scenario even more difficult than he’d imagined.
Andy threw up his hands. “I don’t get it. What the heck are you guys talking about?”
“The baby,” Pam said, her voice shaky.
Andy paled. “He’s all right, isn’t he?”
“He’s fine, son. What we’re about to tell you absolutely mustn’t go any further. If it did, it could hurt all of us, especially Pam and the baby. Only one other person outside this room knows. Gramps. And that’s the way it has to stay. Always. I guess the big question is, can we trust you to keep this confidence?”
Pam leaned forward. “I’m sure—”
Grant cut her off. “Son?”
Andy shrugged. “I guess so. Sure, I mean, if it’s that important.”
“It is,” Grant said quietly.
Pam laid aside the pillow. “There’s no easy way to say this, but the truth is—” Grant watched her falter, before going on “—your dad is not the father of my baby.”
Andy’s whole body stilled and his eyes widened in shock. Again he looked from Pam to his dad and back. “Wait a minute. I don’t understand. You guys are married.”
Pam hung her head. “I was pregnant before then.”
Grant could almost see the wheels turning in his son’s brain. “Oh, it was one of those artificial insemination things, right?”
Grant could hardly bear to watch his son sorting through all the explanations, desperately trying to find
one that would make everything right. “No.”
Andy fixed him with a baffled stare. “You mean it’s someone else’s baby?”
Pam laid a hand on Grant’s leg. “Let me tell him.” She pushed her hair back and looked directly at Andy. “This summer I had a loving, intimate relationship with a man who wasn’t and isn’t in a position to be a father to this child. I wouldn’t consider adoption or…other options, even if it meant losing my job. I love this baby.”
“Jeez, Dad, you knew this? And you married her anyway?”
“I’d known Pam a long time. She was a good friend. She was in trouble.” He turned then and sought Pam’s eyes. “Besides, I cared for her.” If she only knew how much. “It’s not such a big deal to take on another man’s child. Babies can be pretty easy to love.”
“I couldn’t ask for a better husband or father,” Pam said, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “But I…we…didn’t want you to wonder where you stand.”
“You are my son. My only son.”
Andy simply sat there, saying nothing.
Grant continued. “I hope it’s obvious how important it is to keep this in the, er, family. Pam is a great person. A wonderful teacher. Her reputation, her future, in a way, is in our hands. And, of course, the baby’s. I’m counting on you to be man enough to understand the ramifications.”
Andy stood. “Can I go now?”
Eyeballing his son, Grant got to his feet, too. “You will keep this to yourself?”
Grant sensed a smart remark coming, but then Andy looked at Pam, who was clutching the pillow again and simply said, “I told you already. Yes.” Glaring at Grant, he added, “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m leaving for the park. See? This time I’m telling you where I’m going.”
Andy whirled from the room, grabbed a basketball out of the hall closet and left the house. In the void Grant heard the cats playing tag in the upstairs hall, smelled the apple pie Pam had baked earlier, felt the churning of his stomach. When he turned to look at her, she was already on her feet. “I think I need to be alone,” she said, moving past him to the den.
