Pregnancy Plan

by Tina Gayle

  Jillian didn’t want to, but habit forced her to adjust her plans. She turned to Karen Ann. “I guess we’ll have to make it another night. Looks like I’m staying home to talk to my brother tonight.”

  “Okay, but what are you going to do for me?” Karen Ann nailed Michael with a stern glares. Jillian smiled.

  Confused, he answered. “What?”

  “You interrupted our plans.” She said the words slowly so he’d understand. “I think I deserve at least dinner and a movie. Next Friday night I’m busy. Let’s make it the Friday after that. Pick me up at seven at my place.”

  Turning, Karen Ann smiled at Jillian and walked to the door. “See you later, Jill. Hope you have a nice evening.” The wink behind Michael’s back lifted Jillian’s spirits. Karen Ann left with a small wave.

  “Was she kidding?” Michael still appeared confused by her friend’s demands.

  “No. After all you did say you’d make it up to us for canceling our evening.” Jillian strolled toward kitchen, leaving her brother standing in the front entryway.

  “Jillian!” Michael yelled after her.

  She didn’t stop to wait and continued into the kitchen. “Yes?”

  He rushed in after her. “Look, I’m sorry about ruining your plans. But we really need to decide what we plan to do with the house. I have to pay off that margin call.”

  “Why don’t you sell some other stocks? Surely, you have other investments you could use.”

  “Can’t. Everything else is in my 401k plan. If I sell them, I’ll take a big hit on my income tax. Come on, I don’t need much. Let’s say ten thousand. You have that much in your savings account.”

  Her temper snapped. “And it’d wipe me out, Michael.” Her fists landed on her hips. “Then I’d have nothing to fall back on if something should happen? I can’t count on you to help me.” She glared at him angrily.

  “I’ll pay you back. If we sell the house, you’ll have more than enough money to tide you over in case of emergency.”

  “Look at me and read my lips. I am not selling this house. Do you understand? I will buy you out, but I will not—I repeat—will not sell this house.” Her voice rose to a screech.

  “Okay Jill, I’ve got it. Calm down.”

  He didn’t understand. She loved their parents’ old house and refused to live anywhere else.

  “Maybe seven thousand? Then you’ll have some to fall back on and it shouldn’t take that long to get a house loan.”

  “Five.” She twisted her hair around her finger.

  He studied at her as if judging whether she’d budge on the amount. Jillian didn’t usually make a habit of arguing with him, but tonight she won’t compromise. “Okay, that should get me by.”

  “It’ll be deducted from the amount I’ll owe you for the house. I’ll get appraisals on the house later this week. Once we settle on a price and split the difference, I’ll go to the bank and get a loan. Then, and only then, will you get any more money. This will have to be enough.”

  She walked to her purse on the counter, extracted her checkbook and wrote his name on the first line. “I want a receipt.”

  Her face burned with resentment. When was he ever going to grow up? She tore the check out of the book.

  “I’m sorry. I really didn’t think this house meant that much to you.” His voice soft, he worked to make amends.

  “Well, now you do.” She held the check out to him, hoping he’d finally see that she wouldn’t give in to his demands. He might not like the way she lived, because she didn’t party every weekend like he did, but she had the right to live the way she wanted without him interfering.

  She ripped off a slip of paper from the note pad on the counter. “You can write the receipt on this.”

  He wrote in silence. “There you go. Now we’re both happy.” He handed her the receipt and smiled.

  “Yeah right, happy.” Jillian walked toward the kitchen door. “I’m sorry, Michael, but I’m really tired. Make yourself at home. I’m going to bed.”

  He frowned as she left the room. But for once she didn’t care. He’d ruined her evening. Why should she have to stay and entertain him?

  Chapter Seven

  Jillian sat in front of her computer in the small cubbyhole she called an office. After the chaos of last two weeks, she felt much better about her future.

  The appraisals were done, the loan secured. She only needed Michael to agree on a price. With the extra funds, she planned to fix up the store, and the house. She rifled through the bills on her desk while waiting for her email to pop up. A subject line of Here drew her attention and she clicked on it.

  Made a few stops before I got here. But I finally made it.

  Derek

  She read the message several times. “You’d think he could’ve written more than that,” she grumbled, typing a response.

  Glad you made it there safely. All is well here. Been busy, hired a new part-time employee, arranged several appraisals for the house, and secured a loan. All is well.

  Here she paused. How should she end it? I love you, I miss you, I can’t wait to see you? None seemed right. Just thinking about him made her body yearn. It felt like a lifetime since she’d seen him. But she couldn’t tell him all of those feelings in an e-mail and end with

  XXXXXOOOOOO,

  Jillian.

  She hit the send button, as her mind conjured up a picture of him. His angry kisses, his rough words, their fight. Was he still mad? Did he miss her? Or was he glad to be free of her? Would he reply to her e-mail?

  Jillian wanted to cry but instead opened her checkbook. She didn’t have long before she’d need to open the store. Maybe paying bills would take her mind off Derek. She checked her watch. “Damn,” she muttered and pushed back her chair.

  Walking down the main aisle, she noticed Karen Ann standing on the sidewalk, holding two cups of coffee and rushed to unlock the door.

  “I thought you might like a cup of coffee to get your day started.”

  “You must have read my mind.”

  “No, just know you’ve had a rough week. What time does Michael get in this afternoon?”

  “He said last night he’d be in about five-thirty. After all, he has a hot date at seven.” Jillian sipped her coffee.

  “That’s right.” Karen Ann paused. “You think he’ll show up?”

  “I plan on making sure that he does. After all a promise is a promise, but are you sure you want him to?”

  “Why not? I get a free dinner and a movie.”

  “Yes.” Jillian peered at her friend, and read the true reason for her friend’s smile. She appeared excited about the evening. “Just don’t get involved with him. You know his problems.”

  “Is he dating anyone?”

  “No.”

  Karen Ann backtracked out the door. “Well, it’s just a friendly date, nothing more. Anyway, I need to get to the beauty shop. We’re opening in a few minutes.”

  “Yeah. Can you get me in for a haircut sometime next week?”

  “Sure, just let me know when.” Karen Ann shut the door and strolled down the sidewalk to the shop where she worked, her long blonde hair blowing in the wind.

  Beautiful with a shapely figure and sexy blue eyes, she could have any man she wanted. Yet, the men she picked never seemed to take her seriously, or were afraid of making a commitment. They considered her a fun girl to date, but not one to marry. Michael liked those kinds of girls. Karen Ann had a soft spot for him and still carried the crush she'd had back in high school. Hopefully, she wouldn’t let that blind her to his faults. Jillian didn’t want to see either one of them hurt. But maybe they were right for each other. Her friend could certainly handle him. Look at the way she’d gotten a date.

  Michael, on the other hand, didn’t cheat on the girls he dated. Once committed, he only dated one lady at a time. Jillian shook her head. “Who knows? It could work.”

  ****

  The silent hands of the wall clock drew Jillian’s a
ttention. Almost closing time.

  She recalled that she needed to give John Paul his paycheck and glanced at the sign over aisle four. He should almost be finished with restocking the drill bits she’d given him an hour ago.

  The bell over the door tingled with the entrance of a customer and she turned to a balding middle-aged man. Martin York, John Paul’s father walked in the door.

  “Afternoon, Martin.”

  The thunderstorm in his eyes stopped Jillian dead in her tracks.

  “Where’s my son?” What little hair Martin had stood straight up on his head as if he’d just run his hands through it. His mouth formed a straight, grim line. Anger radiated from his body making his small stature look formidable—like a heavy-weight boxer ready to enter the ring.

  “Is there a problem?” Not knowing the source of his anger, she tried to calm him.

  Standing with his feet wide apart, ready to do battle, he barked, “My son?”

  Not know what else to do, she pointed. “Aisle four.”

  “Thank you.” He stalked off. His attitude scared her because she’d never seen anyone look so furious. What had John Paul done?

  Listening carefully to the conversation, she only heard muffled voices. The slapping sound of a palm meeting skin sent her dashing down the aisle. Why would Martin hit his son?

  Jillian rounded the corner.

  John Paul stood, holding his face. Unable to stand any form of violence, she rushed to the young man. “What’s the meaning of this?”

  Not bothering to answer, Martin turned and stalked to the exit. “I’ll see you at home in ten minutes.”

  With John Paul’s arm firmly in her grip, she struggled to understand what had happened. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, he’s just a little upset.” The boy, shaken, refused to show his pain.

  “That’s the understatement of the year. My God, what did you do to make him so mad?” She ushered him down the aisle toward the back of the store.

  “Nothing.” John Paul appeared unaffected by his father’s anger.

  Knowing there had to be more to the story, she pressed again. “Is he angry like this often?” She hustled him into her office, and pointed at a chair. "Sit down. You look a little pale." She opened the refrigerator, and pulled out an ice pack.

  “Dad has a lot of responsibilities.” Not taking the seat she'd offered, John Paul edged toward the door. “I really should be going. Can you close up by yourself?”

  Sensing she wouldn’t get any more information, and not wanting him to be late, she nodded. “Don’t worry about me. I can close up by myself. But, wait let me get your paycheck before you leave.” Tugging open a desk drawer, she handed him his check.

  “Thanks. See you tomorrow.” He turned and left. She still didn’t understand what had just happen, but eventually she would. Nothing in this town stayed a secret for long.

  ****

  Jillian walked into her house to find Michael lounging on the sofa, watching television. Having come directly from work, he was still wore his dark-blue business clothing. A conservative tie hung loosely around the open collar of a white dress shirt. The smile on his face lit the room. She hoped he’d cooperate and not be a pain in the neck. But with Michael, there was no way to tell. “How’s it going?”

  Standing up and turning off the TV, he strolled to her and gave her a huge hug. Claustrophobic with his broad shoulders blocking out everything else, she enjoyed the embrace for a brief moment before shrugging out of his arms.

  “I’m doing fine, how about you?” He stepped back. “Were you able to get the loan?”

  “Yes, they say there shouldn’t be a problem. Now all we need to do is settle on the price.” He returned to the sofa, and she sat in the chair across from him. “Did you see the information I left on the kitchen table?”

  “Yes.” He picked up the papers on the coffee table, which indicated he’d been reviewing the reports. “Is the amount you have circled the value of the house?”

  She nodded. “Yes, after getting all the different information together, I think that’s a fair price. The amount underlined is the amount I’ll owe you.”

  He considered the figure. “From everything you show here, it seems to be a good figure. But...I still think we should sell the place.”

  “Michael...”

  “Listen, Jill, a smaller place would be so much easier for you to take care of. This place has too many memories.” Michael scanned the room, and then frowned.

  She wanted to understand his unease about her living in their parents’ home. The beige carpet was worn, the walls faded. The same pictures that had graced the walls for the last twenty years hung in their normal spots. His football trophy from seventh grade stood on the end table. Like old friends, they greeted her. He viewed the house as outdated and old. She saw it filled with loving memories of the happy times they’d spent with their parents. It was the only home she had ever known.

  “Yes, it does. But that’s the reason I want it. I like knowing the history. Remember when you were twelve, and in hurry to make the championship game? You ran into the wall by the front door and left that dent. All those things make this house a part of my family, me. I can’t leave.”

  He smiled sadly. “But I don’t want you to become an old lady with only a bunch of old memories to keep you company. You need to get out and make a new life for yourself. It would be much better for you, if you got away from this place and started all over.”

  “I love it here. This house, these people, the store, they’re all a part of my life. I don’t want to change it. Why go searching for something I already have?” After a pause, she continued. “As far as becoming an old lady with only a bunch of old memories, I think I can count on my older brother to visit me every once in a while.” She leaned back in her chair.

  “Okay.” He didn’t look pleased when he set the papers back on the table. “The price you have underlined here seems fair. Want to call it a deal and go out and celebrate?”

  “You’re forgetting a prior engagement.”

  “What prior engagement?” Puzzled, he stared at her.

  “I believe you promised Miss Karen Ann Davis that you would take her out to dinner and a movie this evening. Or have you forgotten?”

  He laughed. “No, I just didn’t think she was serious. Was she?”

  “Well, when I talked to her this morning, she mentioned that she had a date tonight.” She watched him closely. Was he excited about the idea?

  “All right, but why don’t you go with us? I’m sure she won’t mind if you come along.” His eyes silently pleaded with her to accompany him.

  “No. It’s been a long week, Michael. I want to stay home, get something quick to eat, and have a nice long bath. You go on and have a good time.” Rising from the chair, she headed for the kitchen. Over her shoulder, she added. “Oh, and make sure you park your car in the garage tonight. It’s supposed to rain.”

  He followed her into the kitchen.

  “Are you sure? It would be good for you to get out. Why not come along? We’ll make it an early evening.” Taking her hand, he tugged her toward the back door.

  She stopped and glanced at her watch then she ushered him out. “No, but you better go. You’re supposed to pick her up in ten minutes. Have fun and don’t stay out too late.”

  “All right, but lock up behind me.” Kissing her on the cheek, Michael hurried out the door.

  Clicking the deadbolt into place, she giggled. The way her brother was acting, you’d think he was scared of Karen Ann. Could be an interesting evening. Jillian toyed with the idea of going along to watch the action, but she didn’t want to cramp his, or her friend’s, style.

  ****

  The vast desert landscape outside the high-rise windows didn’t warrant a glance as Derek slammed the door of his office. He stalked instead to his desk.

  His charge was driving him crazy. The man hadn’t listened to a single word he’d said in the week they’d been here. Even
though his safety depended on Derek, Mark Evan had yet to follow any of the guidelines that would keep him safe.

  How were you supposed to protect someone who wouldn’t follow the rules? An age-old problem he hated to deal with.

  Yes, he had worked with temperamental people before. Usually he just needed to let them know he was in charge and they would straighten out, but the more he thought about this assignment, the less he liked it. For some reason, something didn’t feel right. At the beginning he had thought it was because of his preoccupation with leaving Jillian, but it wasn’t getting better. His restlessness increased.

  Maybe he just wanted to be at home with her. She never seemed very far from his thoughts and missing her had become a major pastime. The few e-mails he’d received didn’t satisfy his need for news about her. Seeing as he wasn’t one to write either, he couldn’t blame her for the short notes.

  Signing onto his email, he scanned the list of messages. Noticing the familiar return address, Derek clicked the message titled simply, Happy Memorial Day.

  Yes!

  I hope you find this answer as appealing as I do.

  XXXXOOOOO

  Jillian

  What in the hell was she talking about? He stared at the screen trying to comprehend her cryptic message.

  It hit him in an instant. He pumped his hand into the air and jumped from his chair.

  She’s pregnant! Excitement washed through him. Yet, he hadn’t expected to feel this way about her carrying his baby.

  Totally amazed by the news, he clicked on the reply button and stared at the screen. No words could describe the overwhelming joy that filled him.

  Appealing doesn’t begin to describe my feelings about the answer.

  Amazed, thrilled, excited.

  Hope all is going well.

  Derek

  One more reason to get out of this hell-hole. For the millionth time, he wished he was there with her, holding her, making love to her and expressing with his touch what the silly words in an e-mail couldn’t.

  This assignment had better not last too much longer or he would have to resign. He needed to get back to the States to take care of her. With the uneasy feeling plaguing him about the current situation, maybe now was the time to get out.