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Bundle of Joy

Page 3

by Robin Lee Hatcher


  All the while he thought about Alicia, her love for her grandfather, and what a predicament she was in because of some jerk named Grant. Of course, that part was her own fault. Nobody with a lick of sense got married three weeks after meeting someone.

  He thought of Marlene. His ex-wife. He and Marlene had known each other for four years before they got married, and their marriage hadn’t lasted much longer than Alicia’s. Only six months, but those had been the longest six months of Joe’s life.

  He winced. Joe Palermo, hotshot attorney, tops in his class—and major stooge. His ex-wife had taken him to the cleaners. Worse than the financial aspects of the divorce, however, had been the loss of his faith. He’d wanted to be married for a lifetime. Why hadn’t God kept Marlene from leaving and divorcing him? He’d kept up his side of the bargain. Why hadn’t God? He’d stayed angry about it for a long time.

  He wasn’t angry with God anymore. He’d come to accept that failures come to everyone, that bad things happen to good people, that even when you want something that is right, it doesn’t mean you’ll get it. He was learning to trust God with his days, with his future.

  One thing he believed without question: marriage wasn’t for him. He was content to return to an empty house at the end of the day. Like his dad before him, he immersed himself in work. That wouldn’t change because he relocated from California to Idaho. And, when he wasn’t working, he intended to hit the ski slopes or hike in the backcountry.

  No, he wasn’t—and wouldn’t ever be—family man material.

  He glanced around the bright yellow kitchen with all its cozy touches. Could he see himself living in a home like this?

  Not hardly.

  He hung up the dish towel, flicked off the light switch and headed out the door.

  “Oh, Humphrey,” Alicia whispered, “what’s going on?”

  Lying on her bed beneath her warm down comforter, she stared upward, watching as moonlight and shadows danced across her ceiling.

  Rags whimpered and laid her head on the bed near Alicia’s side. She ruffled the Old English sheepdog’s ears.

  “How about you, girl? You have any ideas?”

  The dog plopped both of her front paws on the bed and began wagging her tail.

  “Okay. For a little while.”

  Rags jumped onto the mattress and plopped down next to her mistress.

  Alicia didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. There she was, big, pregnant, single and in bed with her dog.

  If that wasn’t a commentary on her life, she didn’t know what was.

  Rags flopped her furry head onto Alicia’s abdomen and whimpered again.

  “My thoughts exactly,” she whispered to the dog. “My thoughts exactly.”

  Chapter Three

  Joe pulled his car into Alicia’s driveway at seven-thirty the next morning. He’d looked for a Starbucks on the way but had come up empty. He hoped Alicia had made a pot of coffee. He needed caffeine in a bad way.

  He rang the doorbell and waited—and waited. He’d figured she would be up since she claimed to be a morning person. He was about to ring the bell again when a large dog galloped into view around the corner of the house. The next thing Joe knew, the dog was up on its hind legs and its giant paws slammed against his chest, knocking him against the doorjamb.

  “Hey!”

  The dog slapped him in the face with a sloppy-wet tongue.

  “Rags, no. Bad girl.” Alicia stepped onto the porch and shoved the dog away from Joe. “Get down. Get away. Bad girl.”

  He drew his arm across his face, wiping away the dog slobber.

  “I’m sorry.” Alicia choked on what sounded like a giggle, then tried to hide it by saying again, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know Rags was out. I told you she’s overly affectionate. She loves people.”

  Joe glared at the dog. Rags sat with her head tipped to one side, her eyes obscured by that ridiculous mop of hair. Joe suspected the canine was grinning at him.

  “She wouldn’t hurt you,” Alicia added. “Honest.”

  “Oh, really?” He turned his glare on her.

  Her lips quivered, and the twinkle of amusement in her eyes was unmistakable.

  “You think its funny?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s just…” She covered her mouth with one hand. “If you could’ve seen the two of you as I did when I opened the door.”

  “Oh, yeah. A regular comedy team.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. Enough with the apologies.” He drew a deep breath. “I need some coffee.”

  She stepped out of his way, allowing him to walk past her and was wise enough not to follow immediately.

  In the kitchen Joe found an oversize mug on the counter next to the coffeepot. He filled it to the brim, then turned and leaned against the counter while taking his first sip of the dark brew.

  Ambrosia!

  Alicia Harris knew how to make good coffee. That was some consolation.

  He took another sip, then released a deep sigh.

  “The way you like it?” she asked from the doorway.

  “Yeah.” He looked toward her. “It’s good.”

  “You said you’re not a morning person. Would you rather I left you alone?”

  “Not much point in it now.”

  She gave him a tentative smile, and he suspected she was about to start apologizing again.

  He spoke before she could. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

  “I thought I’d take you into the shop. Introduce you to my employees.”

  She was wearing those silly bunny slippers, along with a soft-ribbed bathrobe in the same shade of pink. Her hair had a mussed, just-got-up look about it.

  The women Joe had dated over the past decade would rather die than be seen like this. If asked, he’d have said he preferred it that way. Now he wasn’t so sure. There was something appealing about Alicia in that getup.

  He gave his head a slight shake, as if denying the thought. “I assume your employees are among the few who know the truth.”

  “Yes. There wasn’t any way around it.”

  He nodded.

  “But I can trust them.”

  He chose not to explain how the risk of discovery grew with every person who knew. If they wanted to pull off this charade, they’d better keep Grandpa Roger as close to home as they could.

  “I did decide what to tell my grandfather.” Alicia raked the fingers of one hand through her already-tousled hair. “About why I’ve kept our marriage a secret. I’m going to say I was so angry after my fight with him that I didn’t tell him out of spite. Then when he got sick, I decided to wait until he was better. And after he said he was coming for a visit, I simply waited to surprise him. I’ll say I didn’t want to give him any sudden shocks over the phone.”

  “Do you think he’ll buy it? That’s a mighty flimsy story.”

  “I know.” Her shoulders slumped. “But I thought it was better to stick as close to the truth as possible.”

  “Did you ever mention Grant’s name to him?”

  “Yes. When I told him I was getting married. But that was months ago and only one conversation that ended badly. If he remembers, I’ll say he misunderstood me.”

  “Grant Reeves. Joe Palermo. Oh, sure. I see how he could confuse the two.”

  She started to cry.

  He felt like a heel.

  “We…I…we…have to make…this work,” she blubbered.

  Joe set down his mug and went to her, gathered her into his arms and held her close. “I’m sorry.” He patted her back. “I didn’t mean to be sarcastic. Don’t worry. We’ll carry this off. I did theater in high school. Remember? You came with Belinda to one of my plays. I’ll be a fine actor. Your grandpa will never suspect a thing.”

  Alicia allowed herself to sink into the safety of Joe’s embrace. It felt good to lean on someone else. She was tired of being strong and courageous.

  But self-indulgence was a momentary thing. She cou
ldn’t let it last.

  She placed her palms against his chest and gently pushed herself away. “I seem to be crying all the time. I don’t suppose you’d believe me if I told you this isn’t normal.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks.

  “I guess I bring out the worst in you.”

  “No, I think we can blame this on Humphrey.”

  “Good ol’ Humphrey.”

  She tried to smile, but the attempt was weak.

  “Go wash your face.” He motioned toward the hall. “When you’re ready, I’ll take you out for breakfast before we head into town.”

  She didn’t argue. It was more prudent to beat a hasty retreat.

  But retreating from whom?

  Joe Palermo or herself?

  “Wow!” Susie Notter, the assistant manager at Bundles of Joy, rolled her eyes at Alicia. “You gotta give me directions to one of those social-networking sites if he’s an example of the kind of guy you find there.”

  Alicia poked the young woman in the ribs with her elbow. “Shh. He’ll hear you.”

  “Well, when you’re through playing house with him,” Susie whispered, “you can tell Mr. Palermo I’ve got a spare room he’s welcome to. And he won’t even have to meet any of my family.”

  A number of terse responses popped into Alicia’s head. She bit her tongue to keep from saying them.

  Joe turned from the wall of stuffed animals he’d been inspecting. He held up a furry seal. “Looks like an appropriate toy for a kid called Humphrey. Don’t you think?”

  Her heart did a somersault, leaving her unable to speak. The best she could do was smile and nod in response.

  “Does your husband get a store discount?” he asked.

  My husband…

  Susie answered for her. “Of course he does. Come over here, Mr. Palermo, and I’ll ring up your purchase.”

  Joe was just a childhood friend from the old neighborhood. Nothing more. She didn’t want him to be anything more than that. Therefore, these feelings meant nothing.

  She had to remember she’d fallen hard and fast for Grant, and look where it got her. Not that she was sorry about having this baby, but she did regret the circumstances surrounding it. She believed in marriage, the Ward-and-June-Cleaver kind of household, two-point-three kids, the whole “American dream” bit.

  She placed a hand on her abdomen. “Sorry, Humphrey,” she said softly. “It would be nice to have a daddy, but we’ll do the best we can on our own.”

  Joe turned from the cash register, purchase in hand. His grin was still in place, and it stole her breath a second time.

  “How about I take you to lunch?” he asked.

  She doubted she could eat a bite. “It’s not that long since we had breakfast.”

  “Well, I’m hungry.” He walked toward her, took hold of her arm, then glanced over his shoulder. “Nice to meet you, Susie.” He looked in the other direction. “You, too, Judy,” he said to the other salesperson.

  With that, he guided Alicia toward the front door.

  It took some doing, but Joe managed to shake Alicia free from whatever strange mood had overtaken her.

  Over a lunch of clam chowder and corn bread, they reminisced about the old days when they’d been neighbors in a middle-class Meridian neighborhood. They laughed often, their conversation filled with the words Do you remember…? Alicia even confessed she’d had a crush on him when she was little and had wanted him to be the first boy to kiss her. He grinned when he heard that, liking the idea more than he should.

  “Must have been fate that I saw your name on LinkedIn.”

  “I couldn’t believe it when that message came through from you. I’d only completed my profile about a week before. And I did that only because a friend told me it was good for business reasons to be on there.”

  “I’m glad you listened to your friend. It felt good, seeing your name, thinking back to the old neighborhood. Growing up in Idaho gave me the best kind of childhood.”

  “Me, too.”

  “You know what’s surprised me most about you? When you talk about what happened with Grant, you never sound the least bit bitter.” He thought of the bitterness he’d carried around after his own divorce. “It could have soured you on all men, what he did to you.”

  Her smile faded. “All men didn’t have anything to do with this. It was between me and Grant, and I was at fault, too.” She tipped her head to one side. “How about you? Did your ex-wife sour you on all women?”

  “Maybe not on all women, but I don’t plan on ever walking down the aisle again. Marriage isn’t for me.” He wished he’d never introduced the topic.

  “You don’t want to have children of your own?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t make a good father. I’m too much like my old man. He didn’t have time for the kids he had. A workaholic shouldn’t have children. It makes things tough on everyone involved.”

  “And you’re a workaholic?”

  “With a capital W.”

  “How sad,” she said in a low voice. Then, “Maybe we should go. I’ve got grocery shopping to do. I’m picking up the turkey today.”

  Joe rose and stepped around the table to pull out her chair, offering his hand to help her to her feet. As she stood, her shoulder rubbed against him. He caught a whiff of her musky cologne. Her aquamarine eyes seemed darker than usual as she met his gaze. The restaurant sounds faded into the distance.

  She wasn’t ten, and he wouldn’t be the first, but he wouldn’t mind kissing her now.

  Alicia blushed, as if she’d read his thoughts.

  If he wasn’t careful, he’d forget this was all pretend. He’d make an A number one fool out of himself.

  He let go of her hand. “I’ll pay the bill and meet you at the front door.”

  He walked away without a backward glance, hoping it wasn’t already too late to avoid playing the fool.

  By the time the two of them returned home, Alicia was exhausted. The grocery store had been jam-packed. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who waited until Thanksgiving week to do her shopping. Big mistake. The lines had been long, the checkout clerks frazzled.

  It didn’t help that every time she looked at Joe she remembered the moment when she’d thought he might kiss her. Worse yet, she remembered wanting him to.

  Joe had just brought in the last two canvas shopping bags and set them on the kitchen counter when the phone rang.

  “Hello?” Alicia answered.

  “Hello, my girl.”

  “Grandpa? Is something wrong?”

  “Does something have to be wrong for me to call you?”

  “No. It’s just, you’ll be here in a couple of days, and I didn’t expect—”

  “Are you going to fuss over me like one of those confounded nurses the whole time I’m there?”

  “Yes.” She smiled, envisioning the elderly man with the perpetual twinkle in his eyes.

  “Okay. Now that that’s settled, the reason I called was to tell you my itinerary has changed. I’ll be in an hour earlier on Wednesday. Nice surprise, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  Joe watched her with a look that caused her heart to flutter.

  “Grandpa, I’ve got a surprise for you, too.” She glanced at her belly. “A couple of them.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to tell you over the phone. You’ll have to wait until you get here.”

  “Teasing your grandpa, are you?”

  “Maybe a little.” She lowered her voice. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “I’m looking forward to your visit. Very much.”

  “Me, too. So I’ll see you at the airport on Wednesday. One o’clock instead of two. Same flight number.”

  “I’ll be there with bells on.”

  “Goodbye, dear. See you soon.”

  “Bye, Grandpa.”

  The connection was broken, and Alicia hung up the phone.

  “Everything o
kay?”

  She turned toward him. “Yes.” But the fluttering in her heart when she met his gaze made her wonder if she spoke the truth.

  Chapter Four

  Alicia was shaking. Whether from excitement or nerves, Joe couldn’t be sure. He suspected it was a combination of the two.

  As passengers exited the concourse, Joe placed an arm around her back and whispered, “Here we go, sweetheart.”

  She glanced up, obviously surprised by the endearment.

  “The charade begins,” he added, wanting her to understand his choice of words was part of the pretense. “Act 1, scene 1. Remember your lines?”

  She gave him a pained smile, accompanied by a nod, then returned her gaze to the concourse.

  The waiting area grew noisier as friends and family were welcomed.

  “There he is!” Alicia raised an arm and waved. “Grandpa! Over here!”

  Roger Harris hadn’t changed much in the past two decades. Perhaps the good reverend was a bit thinner, but his hair was the same stone-gray and his smile was as warm and friendly as Joe remembered. In fact, he would say her grandfather looked good for a man of seventy-seven who’d survived a heart attack.

  There was a question in the older man’s eyes as he approached the two of them. Then he stopped short, his eyes widening, and Joe knew Roger Harris had finally noticed Alicia’s expanded waistline.

  “Hi, Grandpa.” Her greeting was tentative.

  Joe tightened his arm and urged her forward with a gentle pressure.

  “I assume this—” Grandpa Roger glanced at her belly “—is part of my surprise?”

  “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “And here is the other part. This is Joe Palermo. My husband.”

  Joe offered his hand. “Nice to see you, sir.”

  Grandpa Roger hesitated only a moment before taking Joe’s hand in his. “And you, young man.” His gaze was as firm as his grasp. “Have we met before?”

  “Years ago, Mr. Harris. When I was a kid. I lived across the street from Alicia until my dad transferred to California. I came back to Idaho to enjoy the simpler life.”

 

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