“Please, come in,” he said, stiff and strange like they didn’t know everything about each other.
She followed him into the living room. She blinked against the bright light. Sunshine streamed through his big windows. Outside, the ocean was deep blue under a cloudless sky. A rare sunny day in February.
“Can I make you an espresso?” he asked.
“Some water would be nice.” She glanced at the kitchen counter. Two wine glasses, one with a lipstick stain, stood next to an empty bottle. The girl had been here.
“Have a seat,” he said.
She hated how formal he sounded. Their old rapport had vanished.
He brought her a glass of water and sat down on the couch. “What’s going on? Something with work?”
“No, the store’s fine.” Even though you haven’t been in to see me for weeks.
“Sorry I’ve been a little MIA. I’ve been busy with my business.”
And with the blond.
“It’s fine,” she said.
“Violet told me she took Dakota to one of the story hours and he loved it,” Lance said. “Another one of your great ideas.”
She flooded with warmth at the compliment. This is what she missed most—how Lance made her feel good about herself. But no, she must not get distracted. She must do what she came here to do.
“I have something to tell you.” Her mouth was without moisture. She took a quick drink of water and wet her lips.
“Sure.” A tiny muscle by his right eye twitched. She’d noticed it when she’d first met him, but it had gone away over time. Had she brought it back?
A surge of guilt turned her stomach. “I don’t even know how to say this.” She clasped her hands together.
His expression changed to concern in an instant. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s just that I have a problem. We have a problem. A kind of big one.”
“You’re scaring me,” he said.
“I’m pregnant. It’s yours. I mean, obviously. I haven’t been with anyone else.”
His skin drained of color, but his full lips looked almost purple, like they’d been stained with grape juice. “Pregnant. Did you say pregnant?”
She pulled the wand from her jacket pocket. “See here.”
Lance continued to stare at her like he’d heard her wrong. “But I thought you were on the pill?”
“Sometimes they fail.” God, she was such a liar. She half expected a bolt of lightning to strike her dead.
“Like with Violet and Kyle,” he said under his breath. “She was on the pill too.”
“It happens, like one percent of the time,” Mary said.
“Such small odds. How weird that it happened to us too.”
“Something in the water?” she asked with a laugh that came out as a squeak.
He got up from the couch and went to the window and looked out at the view before turning back to her. “Pregnant. I’m in shock. Forgive me.”
Forgive you? If you only knew.
“I’m not sure what to do,” she said.
“What to do?” His brow wrinkled. A flash of color returned to his cheeks. “You don’t mean an abortion? Don’t even tell me you’re thinking about that as an option.”
He’d immediately ruled out an abortion. She wasn’t surprised, but still, it was a relief to hear him say it. “No, no. Not that. I can’t do that.” Mary swallowed the lump in her throat. “But it’s complicated because of my cervix. It’ll be treated as a high-risk pregnancy. And I don’t have insurance, so I’m worried about the money.”
He blinked. “You don’t have insurance?”
She flushed, self-conscious. “Too expensive. And then there’s my father. He doesn’t think I should ever try and have another baby after what happened the first time. There’s your brother and Kara. They already hate me. The fact that I’m going to have their niece or nephew is probably their worst nightmare. I don’t know what Flora will think other than probably be annoyed that I’ve ruined her precious Lance’s life. Your mother will be disappointed you’re involved with someone like me.”
Lance scowled. “I’m not sure any of what you just said is accurate, other than your father, whom I don’t know well enough to make a judgement. My brother and Kara are not like that, especially when it comes to family.”
“Your friends and family despise me,” Mary said. “Except for Violet, they’ll all be horrified. I’m an outsider.”
“You underestimate my friends.”
“Maybe.” If they only knew the truth, they’d hate her even more than they already did.
He tented his hands in front of his face, like he did when he was thinking through a problem. For what seemed like an hour, he didn’t say anything. When he looked up, his eyes sparkled with obvious pleasure at his solution. “There’s only one thing to do.”
She waited.
“We have to get married.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Are you insane? We can’t get married.”
He paced between the coffee table and the fireplace. “Hear me out. I have insurance. If you marry me, you can be added to my policy. They honor preexisting conditions now, so you’ll be covered, even if you’re high-risk.”
“Insurance is no reason to marry someone.”
“In our case, it is. There’s a baby at stake here. I want you to have the best medical care possible.”
“My dad won’t understand a quickie marriage,” she said.
“What’s to understand? We fell in love and decided to spontaneously elope. Later, we tell them you’re pregnant. No one needs to know the details or timeline. We’ll go to Vegas and come back married.”
She couldn’t process all this as quickly as he obviously could. How did a man immediately come up with a complicated plan like this? “We shouldn’t get married.”
“Why not?”
“Because you don’t love me.” And because I’m a bad person who got pregnant on purpose.
A flicker of emotion crossed his face. Anger, resentment?
“We can get married, and once the baby comes, get a divorce,” he said.
“How will that not make more of a mess than we’re already in?”
“Insurance, Mary. Think about it. The child will be raised in separate households whether we get married or not.”
She nodded and squeezed her hands together. Insurance would make all the difference in the world. She might even get better medical treatment. Doctors liked to be paid.
“If it’s a fake marriage, then it’s not like either one of us gets hurt when we get a quickie divorce,” he said.
“But you’re…you have a life. You should have a life not saddled with the stigma of divorce.”
“There’s no stigma anymore. Half of marriages end up in divorce.”
Like her marriage. Now, she’d have two failed marriages. This is your fault. Don’t you go feeling sorry for yourself.
“What if the baby comes early like before?” he asked. “Do you know how much the NICU costs without insurance? This is the only solution.”
“Is it? Really? Because it sounds insane.” What she had done was insane. What did she expect would follow next?
“People have gotten married for lesser reasons than this.”
“I suppose.”
“After we’re divorced, we’ll still be great friends, which will be good for our child. We can share custody. We’ll make it work.”
“This feels too fast. You’re not thinking through everything.”
“What have I left out?” he asked.
“What about your life? You said you wanted to meet someone and get married, have a family. How will you do that with me hanging around?”
“I’m not about to shirk my responsibilities for selfish reasons. I’ll take care of you and the baby. You can count on that.”
“This is extreme. Marriage? A fake marriage is a trope in a romance novel. Real people don’t do this. As your friend, I would advise against it.” She tried to smile
but it was delivered in the form of a sob. If he only knew her guilt in this plot. Or that she desperately loved him.
His expression remained uncharacteristically stubborn as he put his arms around her. “I’m not about to let you deal with this alone. We made a mistake that night. It takes two to tango and all that. Now we’re going to have to adjust our lives to deal with it.”
“But your life is ahead of you and I’ve ruined it. You know as well as I do this is my fault. I got drunk and threw myself at you.” And pretended to be on the pill.
He drew back to look at her, the muscles under his high cheekbones flexing, as if trying to figure out what to say next. “I had feelings for you. I had them for months. I was hoping you felt it too—that we could become more than friends.”
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?” she asked.
“Yes. Frankly, it hurt when you left that morning without so much as a thought to giving this a chance. Given how much you seemed to enjoy our evening together, it shocked me when you basically shut me down the next morning.”
Images from the night in his bed flashed before her. She covered her burning face with her hands. Why did he have to remind her?
“You walked away without so much as a cup of goodbye coffee,” he said. “So yeah, I’ve been hurt and mad.”
He had feelings for her. Past tense. She’d squelched them with her erratic behavior. Just as well. I’m not right for him. I’m a liar. If there was any chance for us, I ruined it. Like I do everything.
“I told you from the beginning I wasn’t interested in a relationship,” she said.
He put his hands up in the air. “Sue me. I was hoping you’d change your mind.”
“Oh.” She had no idea what to say. His anger made her want to sink into the floor and disappear. Lance had never once raised his voice in annoyance or irritation during their months of friendship.
“Don’t worry, I’m over it,” Lance said. “I get it loud and clear that you don’t feel that way about me. But listen, you did not do this alone.” Lance grabbed both her hands. “Please, you have to be reasonable. This is the best choice.”
“It isn’t 1950.” She moved away from him and leaned against the wall, afraid her knees might buckle.
“As far as I’m concerned, it may as well be. This is my child we’re talking about. My baby. And you’re a friend I care about very much. What else could I possibly do?”
She hugged herself. A little person was inside her, cells dividing faster than her spinning thoughts. She looked up at Lance’s compassionate face. He returned her gaze, his blue eyes the color of a stormy night sky. Relief saturated the tides of panic. Lance was here for her. Having him by her side meant she would not have to do this alone.
“I’m scared.” She fought with all her might to keep the tears from overpowering her control, but her bottom lip rebelled with a pitiful tremble. She’d promised herself she’d be strong and independent. Yet, here was Lance Mullen being a prince. What had she expected? He stepped up without question or thought to his own needs. Lance was a great man. Had she ruined his life?
She started to cry in little bursts that almost sounded like laughter.
He pulled her into his arms. “We’ll get the best doctors in California. I’ll make sure of it. They’ll do that thing you told me about.”
“The surgical cerclage?”
“Yes. The one that sews everything up nice and tight.”
“You remember that?” She’d told him that if the doctors had known about her problems, they would have performed a surgery that closed her cervix, thus preventing preterm labor. Now that they knew her condition, a cerclage would most likely save the baby.
“I remember,” Lance said. “I remember everything you tell me. I’m not letting anything happen to you or the baby. Our baby.”
She rested her face against his strong chest. Why did it have to feel so right in his embrace? “You’re so good.”
“I wish that were true. You know I’ve made stupid, selfish choices. One that cost me everything. But that doesn’t mean I can’t do the right thing now. Let me do this. Please, marry me.”
She looked straight into his eyes. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“It’s the right thing for the baby. I know that’s true.”
“Good. Now go home and pack your bag. We’re going to Vegas.”
For the first time since she confirmed her pregnancy, she smiled. A second later, she sobered. “Wait a minute. What about your girlfriend?”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Is it serious with her?” She held her breath. Please say no.
“God no. She’s not even my girlfriend. I’ve just been dating her. It’s nothing. Not compared to this. Trust me.”
Not compared to this. That was the understatement of the century.
By that afternoon, they were on a first-class flight to Las Vegas. The flight attendant, blond and pretty with a flirtatious smile just for Lance, delivered champagne. Lance returned both glasses and asked the girl for two sparkling waters instead. “My wife’s pregnant,” he said. “Which means I don’t drink either.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” The flirtatious smile for Lance was immediately replaced by an indulgent grimace for Mary. “Are you nauseated?”
“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Mary said. “But I wouldn’t mind something to snack on when you have a chance.”
“Chips or fruit or both?” she asked.
“Both.” Mary looked over at Lance when the flight attendant walked away with their glasses of champagne.
“Wife?” she asked.
“I’m practicing saying it. This is my wife, Mary. Hey, are you taking my last name?”
“Stop joking around. What we’re about to do is serious and borderline insane.”
“You’re taking the fun out of our wedding day,” he said.
She shifted her weight to get a better look at him. “You should have the champagne. I’d down the bottle if I could, knowing what we’re about to do.”
“No. I need to keep a clear head. I’ve never gotten married before.” He swept the front section of his shiny brown hair away from his forehead. As usual, it flopped right back into place, just shy of his left eyebrow. She almost shivered, remembering how the silky strands had felt slipping through her fingers.
“It’s amazingly easy. Much harder to get a divorce,” she said.
The plane shivered as they climbed altitude. Mary’s stomach lurched. The flight attendant’s question might have cursed her. It was too soon to be nauseous though. With Meme it hadn’t started until the eighth week.
“Are you feeling all right?” Lance asked, his brow wrinkled in concern.
“Yes, I’m fine.”
The flight attendant brought their drinks and snacks. Mary reached for the bag of chips, suddenly ravenous.
“Here, let me,” Lance ripped a neat corner off the bag and poured the chips onto a napkin. “These things can be a bugger to get open.”
“I’m pregnant not incapacitated,” she said, teasing. Ah, dear Lance. He would be such a good husband and father. If only this were real.
She crunched a chip, more happily than was decent. They were almost as good as the sex had been with Lance. “I normally don’t even like chips.”
“What isn’t there to love?” he asked.
“Too much salt and grease. I guess the little garbanzo bean likes them.” She crunched, enjoying the salt on her tongue. “I might blow up like a balloon, you know.”
“Did you the last time?” Lance asked.
“No, I was Olive Oyl with a basketball stomach. Not a good look.”
“You’re built like a supermodel. You’ll look amazing pregnant.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me just because you got me in trouble.”
He swept an errant strand of hair away from her face. “You’re beautiful.”
“Stop it.” She broke his gaze and sea
rched for a bite-sized chip amongst the pile. Guilt crawled up the back of her spine.
After a moment, he asked another question. “What was your first wedding like?”
She licked salt from her upper lip and dotted her mouth with a cocktail napkin. “Over the top, which is embarrassing considering how it turned out. I was spoiled rotten and my mom was the type who loved a party. The minute we told them we were getting married she was on the phone booking appointments.” She glanced out the window. They flew above the cloud cover now. Blue sky stretched out before them.
“Did you have a pretty dress?” he asked.
Only Lance would ask about the dress. No other man would even think about that. “Very pretty. It had an A-line skirt and tons of tulle and lace. I felt like a princess. If I’d only known, I would’ve saved my dad’s money.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “My mother never knew how our marriage turned out. I was thankful for that. What he did would’ve broken her heart. She was very idealistic and romantic. Like I used to be.” A detail from the night Chad left her came to her. “At the door, with his suitcases in hand, he left me with one parting shot. ‘If you’d ever separated from your mommy, maybe we would’ve had a chance.’”
“Unnecessarily cruel, given the fact that he cheated on his pregnant wife, then left her while she was grieving her baby and her mother. I could kill him with my bare hands, I swear.”
She patted his arm, touched by the glimmer of indignation in his eyes. “It’s okay now.”
“Of all the subjects we’ve delved into, you’ve never really told me much about him,” Lance said.
“Maybe I’ve forgotten almost everything about him at this point.” She bit into another chip, thinking of a way to describe him. “I usually say he was like George Wickham from Pride and Prejudice, but you haven’t read that one yet.”
“My mother and Flora are constantly watching the movie.”
“The one with Colin Firth?”
“Yes. Apparently, he’s dreamy,” Lance said.
“Yes, he is.”
“Wickham is the charming one, right? The military guy who lies to Elizabeth?” He laughed at her astonished expression. “It wasn’t my fault. They made me watch it with them one night. It was good, but don’t tell the Dogs. I’ll never hear the end of it.”
Tainted Page 4
