Stephanie.” Izzie’s voice was loud, and her sentences were clipped with anger. “You tell him that you expect him to pay. Get some legal papers drawn up and, if he resists, slap a paternity suit on him.”
“I know. I know. You’re right. When should I tell him?”
Stephanie could almost feel Izzie smile. “Well, if it were me, I’d be on the phone to him right now, ruining his Christmas. He’s certainly ruined yours.”
It was the answer Stephanie had been looking for.
CHAPTER 10
“Hello?” a man’s voice answered, sounding slightly puzzled.
The same explosion and gunfire sound echoed tinnily in the background, and Stephanie knew that Robert Walker was watching the same movie as Izzie and Dave.
“Hello?” he repeated.
“You may want to move away from the TV and find someplace private where you can talk,” Stephanie said softly. She was sitting up in bed, her chin propped on her knees, her right arm wrapped around her legs, while she pressed the chunky portable phone to her ear.
The line hissed and popped, but she could clearly hear Robert Walker swallow. She smiled. She could imagine him sitting at home, maybe surrounded by his wife, children, and relatives.
“Sure . . . sure,” he said with forced joviality. “And a Merry Christmas to you too. Let me just step out of the room, away from the TV. . . .”
She heard the phone move away from his lips, and his voice, muffled, as he made an excuse to someone in the background. She heard the two words “Christmas . . . dinner,” and was unable to resist a grin. Izzie had been right; she was about to ruin his appetite.
There was a click, and then the ambient sound on the line changed as Robert swapped phones, and his slightly fast, almost panicked breathing was now clearly audible.
“Are you okay?” he asked immediately.
“Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.
“I’ve been worried out of my mind, and when I couldn’t get hold of you, I didn’t know what to think, and then before, when we were instant-messaging and you said you didn’t want to see me again, I was devastated.”
Stephanie took a moment before she responded. He was devastated. And yet he’d lost nothing. His affair with her had cost him nothing. Whereas the same affair had cost her so much more and, if she really was pregnant, it had altered her future irrevocably. There were a dozen responses she could have made—sad or sarcastic, bitter or angry—but in the end, she contented herself with the blunt statement “I think I’m pregnant, Robert.”
The silence that followed was so long that Stephanie was forced to interrupt it. “What? No quick comment, no witty retort, no congratulations?”
“I . . . I . . . No. I don’t know what to say.”
“Well, think of something.”
“How did this . . . I mean, when did this happen?”
“Who knows? We’ve had sex a couple of times without using protection.”
“I said you should have gone on the pill.”
Stephanie bit back the snap of anger and swallowed hard. This was not a time for scoring points. This was a time for decisions.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “Certain?”
“Reasonably,” she lied. “My period is ten days late.”
“Ten days isn’t a lot, is it?” he said desperately.
“It’s long enough.”
“But you’ve taken a test, haven’t you? Confirmed it?”
“It’s Christmas Day, Robert, just in case you’ve forgotten. Where am I going to get a pregnancy test kit today?”
She could hear him licking dry lips. “But you really think you could be?” He couldn’t even say the word.
“Yes, I do.”
There was a sound that might have been either a sigh or a moan. “Have you decided what to do about it . . . about the baby?”
“No. But you’re the father. I wanted to talk to you first. Make some joint decisions. Real decisions.”
“Yes, yes, yes, of course. Look, can we meet? Not today obviously . . .”
No, not today because he was having a Christmas family get-together and would not be able to fabricate an excuse to get out of the house.
“Tomorrow. Can we meet tomorrow?”
Stephanie allowed herself a smile. “Tomorrow might be a little difficult for me. . . .”
“I really need to see you, to talk to you,” Robert protested. “I can meet you. Anywhere,” he added.
“Anywhere?”
“I’ll go anywhere,” he insisted.
“Fine then. I’m at my parents’ house.”
There was a pause. “In Wisconsin?”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing there?”
“Having a family Christmas,” she said, unable to keep the touch of bitterness out of her voice. “Robert,” she hissed, “what did you expect me to do? Sit around in an empty house on Christmas Day reminding myself just how stupid I’d been?”
“Look, about yesterday . . .”
“Not now,” she snapped. “I don’t want to talk about the past. I want to talk about our child.” Something twisted inside Stephanie at the phrase “our child,” and she was forced to take a deep breath. “You know, I had no intention of ever seeing you again, of ever having anything to do with you. But that’s changed now. If I am pregnant, I have to see you.”
“Yes, yes, of course you must.” There was another pause, then she heard him draw in a deep shuddering breath. “How sure? I mean how certain are you that you’re pregnant?” She could hear the desperation in his voice, the panic bubbling to the surface.
“You’ve asked me that already, and I’ll give you the same answer: reasonably sure.”
“When will you know for certain?”
“Tomorrow,” she said, wondering if the local Target or Walmart would be open and guessing that they would.
“When are you coming home?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to come back until after the New Year, but I think this changes everything. I’ll see if I can get back before the weekend. I’ll check flights later.”
“Let me know what flight you’re coming in on. I’ll pick you up. We can talk. Make decisions. See what you want to do about it.”
Stephanie didn’t like the way the tone of the conversation had shifted. “Robert, it’s not what I want to do—this is our baby. It is all about what we want to do.”
“Well, let’s talk about options. . . .”
Stephanie frowned, feeling something sour at the back of her throat. “What do you mean by options?”
Something in Stephanie’s tone must have alerted Robert, because he immediately changed tack. “I mean what’s best for you and the baby.” There was a pause, then he said, “Look, I’ve got to go. It’s great to hear from you, and good to know that you’re okay.” He attempted a laugh, which sounded hollow.