for even the worst parts of the pregnancy; he’d like to be the one she complained to, blamed, criticized and harangued. Even though he was already getting plenty of that, he hated that she suffered her upset without his arms around her, comforting her as she calmed down. Crazy as it was, he wanted to watch her turn pea green, shoot for the bathroom, come out white as a sheet and fall into his arms. He’d like to be the partner, not the silent partner. He’d like to feel her big belly pressed up against him at night, waking him with the romping inside. He turned around and looked at her. “Would you like some soda crackers?”
“No, thank you.”
“You’re still having morning sickness at five months?”
“’Fraid so. Mel said it happens. Some of us are lucky. And I’m double lucky. My hormones have obviously gone wild.”
He got a cup and tea bag ready, poured himself a cup of high-test coffee, strong the way Mel liked it, and sat at the table with her.
“I don’t know where to start,” she said. “Cameron, I was mean and horrible last night and I’m sorry. I think I felt out of control. I’m not really angry with you. I’m not afraid you’d be a terrible father. It’s just this mess of mine. I’d like to keep you out of it. I’d like to keep the babies out of it.”
“I understand.”
“That night…The night this happened…” She took a breath. “I was upset, depressed, didn’t know which way to turn…. I never meant for something like that to happen. I shouldn’t have let it happen. It’s all my fault.”
“Abby, there’s no fault,” he said. He reached for her hand, but the teakettle whistled and he pulled back. He stood and fixed up her tea, bringing it to her. He got a spoon, cream and sugar. Then he sat down again while she dunked the tea bag. “Listen, it wasn’t about fault. We’re adults. We were adults that night, and it wasn’t a bad night. It was nice.”
“It was a mistake,” she said. “That isn’t the way I get to know men.”
“I know that. It isn’t the way I get to know women either,” he said. “We deserve a second chance.”
She sighed. “Which is the point. Vanni sat me down last night. She gave me a stern talking-to. If we’re both going to be parents, we have to at least get along. I can’t treat you like the enemy—you’ve been nothing but nice to me. I guess I just don’t know how to go about that—the getting along part. The part where you get to be the father without anyone knowing you’re the father.”
“We should have just talked about it. Because I have some ideas about that.”
Her eyes shot open wide. “You do?”
“I do,” he said.
She leaned her chin on her hand. “I can’t wait to hear this.”
“First of all, we don’t have to explain anything to anyone, ever. There’s the starting point. We can be friendly now without any suspicion. We can see each other casually, become friends. Abby, you’re a beautiful, sexy, funny woman. You’re carrying twins and I’m a pediatrician. I love babies and beautiful women. The fact that you’re a single pregnant woman wouldn’t scare me off—why would it? For someone like me to be attracted to someone like you, even if we hadn’t had our history, isn’t so strange. People are likely to think it’s a Lifetime movie. Nothing but happy endings.”
“I don’t know about that,” she said.
“Well, I’m not embarrassed by what happened. If we wanted to, we could just say we met in Grants Pass while you were visiting your good friend, we got to know each other, we got along. We didn’t date long, but there was an attraction and…well…these things happen. The details aren’t important and none of anyone’s business but ours.”
“These things happen,” she repeated, shaking her head.
“It’s not mysterious. In fact, it’s not a crime. The few people who know aren’t going to tip off Kid Crawford, if that’s what has you panicked.”
“Few people?” she asked.
“It’s up to a few. There was Mel, Vanni and Dr. Stone. Now there’s Paul, and thanks to a little time we had at the bar together last night, Jack. Jack’s the only wild card, I think, and he won’t say anything because he doesn’t want to have to deal with Mel on that issue. Paul doesn’t want Vanni to kill him, so he’s airtight.”
“Shew,” she said.
“Thing is, it might get out eventually. It’s kind of funny in a way—”
“Funny?”
“Think about it—two strangers are sitting alone in a bar, feeling sorry for themselves, and not only do they get together and find a lot of comfort in each other, they start a family. And not just a baby, but twins. Then they end up in the same small town. No one would believe it. I know it wasn’t planned, but I’m not sorry about the outcome.”
She looked angry. At least indignant. “Well, I’m sorry!”
“No, you’re not. You hate the complications, but there are twins coming and I’m going to be around to help you with that. One’s a boy. I hope the other one’s a girl. These might be the only kids I get, and I hope I get one of each.” He grinned stupidly and knew it.
“You know, if you had all these legal and financial things hanging on you, you wouldn’t be so cavalier.”
“I think we should see a lawyer,” he said.
“I have a lawyer!”
“I’m not sure you have a good one. You got screwed.”
“Listen, Cameron, I can’t afford another lawyer. The last one almost wiped me out. I pulled all my retirement funds, cashed in my stock, which wasn’t much, sold my condo…”
“I’ll take care of it.”
She was struck dumb. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, Abby, it’s in my best interest to help you get this monkey off your back. If we have a clean slate, maybe we can work as a team.” He sat back. “That’s my hope.”
“I don’t want you to do that,” she said sternly. “I don’t want to owe you that much.”
He just shrugged. “You’re stuck with me either way. They’re mine as much as they’re yours.”
“What a godawful, stinking mess,” she said, pouting and lifting the cup to her lips.
Cameron was silent. Frowning. When she put the cup down, she looked at him and said, “What now?”
He shook his head and said, “You wouldn’t want to hear about some of the sad things I’ve seen in my practice. Abby, you’re worried about all the wrong things—about who’s going to pay for the lawyer, about being embarrassed that we didn’t have a long relationship before this happened. Give thanks. The babies are healthy and strong and, so far as we can tell, perfect.”
Her hand went to her tummy. “Are you the calm and reasonable one because you’re not the pregnant one?” she asked.
“No, sweetheart. Because I’m the desperate one. You’re holding the prize.”
By the time Jack got home at the end of a long day, the children were asleep and Mel was on the computer. He kissed her, then went to the kitchen and looked through the mail. He found a letter from Rick.
Since the boy was thirteen, Jack had looked out for him, tried to help him into manhood with strength and courage, with goodness. It was with a combination of pride and trepidation that he had sent him off to the Marine Corps at the age of eighteen. It was Rick’s decision, one hundred percent. Jack never fought him on it, though he had wanted to send Rick to college and had put aside money for that.
Now