Nobodys Baby But Mine

by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

  “And exactly what terms are those?”

  “You’re going to have to like me first! A lot!”

  “I already like you a lot!” he roared.

  “You are pathetic!” With an exclamation made up of equal parts fury and frustration, she snatched a pillow from the bed, threw it at his head, and flounced back to her bedroom.

  Moments later, she heard a loud thud, as if somebody’s fist might very well have connected with a wall.

  Chapter Eleven

  C al’s parents lived on a hilly residential street shaded by mature trees and lined with older homes. Vines that would soon bloom with clematis and morning glory clung to the mailboxes, and empty white latticework planters waiting to be filled with colorful blooms perched on front porches.

  The Bonner house sat at the top of a steep slope carpeted with ivy and rhododendron. It was a graceful two-story cream stucco topped by a roof of curving pale green Spanish tiles, with the shutters and trim painted the same light green. Cal pulled the Jeep under the porte cochere off to the side, then came around the front to open the door for her.

  For a moment his eyes lingered on her legs. He hadn’t commented on her soft, taffy-colored skirt and sweater ensemble, even though she’d rolled the skirt twice at the waistband so that a good three inches of thigh showed through her pale hose. She thought he hadn’t noticed and figured her thirty-four-year-old thighs weren’t any match for all those long-stemmed aerobicized legs he was used to, but now the flicker of admiration in his eyes made her wonder if she’d misjudged.

  She couldn’t remember ever being so confused. Last night she’d felt as if she’d run through an entire gamut of emotions with him. When they’d talked in the kitchen, there had been a sense of companionship she’d never expected. There had also been laughter, anger, and lust. Right now, the lust disturbed her most.

  “I like your hair,” he said.

  She’d left it down, along with abandoning her glasses and taking twice her normal time to apply her makeup. The way his gaze slid over her made her think it was more than just her hair he liked. Then he frowned.

  “No funny business tonight, you hear me?”

  “Loud and clear.” She deliberately stuck a burr under his saddle so she’d stop thinking about last night. “Don’t you want to throw your coat over my head to make sure none of the neighbors get a good look at me? Now what am I saying? If any of them spot me, you can just tell them I’m the mother of one of your girlfriends.”

  He grabbed her arm and steered her toward the front door. “One of these days I’m going to slap a piece of duct tape right over that smart mouth of yours.”

  “Impossible. You’ll already be dead. I spotted an electric hedge trimmer in the garage.”

  “Then I’m going to tie you up, toss you in a closet, throw in a dozen rats crazed from hunger, and lock the door.”

  She lifted her eyebrow. “Very good.”

  He grunted and opened the front door.

  “We’re in here,” Lynn called out.

  Cal led her into a beautifully decorated living room done almost entirely in white, with accent pieces in peach and soft mint green. Jane barely had a chance to take it in before her attention was caught by one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen.

  “Jane, this is my brother Ethan.”

  He walked forward, took her hand, and looked down at her through kind blue eyes. “Hello, Jane. We finally meet.”

  She could feel herself melting, and she was so surprised by her reaction to him that she barely managed to acknowledge his greeting. Could this blond-haired, finely chiseled, soft-spoken man really be Cal’s brother? Gazing into his eyes, she felt the same swell of emotion she sometimes experienced when she saw a newborn baby or a photograph of Mother Teresa. She found herself sneaking a glance at Cal, just to see if she’d missed something.

  He shrugged. “Don’t look at me. None of us can figure it out.”

  “We think he might be a changeling.” Lynn rose from the couch. “He’s the family embarrassment. Goodness knows, the rest of us have a list of sins a mile long, but he makes us look even worse in comparison.”

  “For very good reason.” Ethan regarded Jane with absolute sincerity. “They’re all the spawn of Satan.”

  By now Jane had more than a passing acquaintance with the Bonner sense of humor. “And you probably mug old ladies in your spare time.”

  Ethan laughed and turned to his brother. “You finally caught yourself a live one.”

  Cal muttered something inaudible, then glared at her with a silent reminder that she was supposed to be alienating everybody, not buddying up. She hadn’t forgotten, but neither had she let herself think too much about that part of it.

  “Your father had a delivery,” Lynn said, “but he should be back any minute now. Betsy Woods’s third. You remember; she was your first prom date. I think your father has delivered the babies of every old girlfriend any of you boys ever had.”

  “Dad took over the practice from his own father,” Ethan explained. “For a long time Dad was the only doctor around here. He’s got help now, but he still works too hard.”

  The discussion reminded her that she needed to find a doctor soon. And it wouldn’t be Jim Bonner.

  As if she’d conjured him, he appeared in the archway. He looked rumpled and tired, and Jane saw an expression of concern flicker across Lynn’s features.

  As Jim came into the room, his big voice boomed. “How come nobody has a drink?”

  “I have a pitcher of margaritas waiting in the kitchen.” Lynn’s forehead smoothed, and she moved toward the door.

  “We’ll come with you,” Jim said. “I can’t stand this room, not since you and that fancy decorator ruined it. All this white makes me feel as if I can’t sit down.”

  Jane thought the room was lovely and found Jim’s remark uncalled-for. The four of them followed Lynn into the kitchen, whose warm pine and tasteful accessories gave it a cozy country charm. Jane wondered how Cal could stand their own garish house after being raised in such a comfortable place.

  Jim shoved a beer at his son, then turned to Jane. “Would you like a margarita?”

  “I’d rather have a soft drink.”

  “Baptist?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Are you a teetotaler?”

  “No.”

  “We have some nice white wine in the house. Amber’s made herself over into something of a wine expert, haven’t you, honey?” His words sounded like those of a proud husband, but their bite told a different story.

  “That’s enough, Dad.” Cal’s voice held a touch of steel. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I want it to stop.”

  His father straightened, and their eyes clashed. Although Cal’s posture remained relaxed, the hard glint in his eyes warned his father that he’d stepped over the line.

  Jim obviously wasn’t used to having anyone challenge his authority, but Cal didn’t show the slightest inclination to back down. She remembered that only yesterday he’d denied that anything was wrong with his parents’ marriage.

  Ethan broke in with a request for a beer and a casual remark about a town council meeting. He must be the family peacemaker. Tensions eased, and Lynn asked Jane about her morning with Annie. Jane heard the coolness in her voice and knew she must be wondering why her new daughter-in-law had so much time to spend helping her mother put in a garden but refused to spare a few hours for sightseeing with her.

  Jane glanced at Cal. She saw an expression of resignation in his face. He didn’t expect her to keep her word.

  She felt a moment of sadness, but it did no good wishing for the impossible when she knew she owed him this. “It’s been a bother, but don’t tell her that. She simply doesn’t understand that every hour she pulls me away from my research is an hour I can never regain.”

  There was a moment of strained silence. Jane refused to look at Cal. She didn’t want to see his relief as she embarrassed herself in front of his family
. With a sense of dread, she turned the screw. “I know her garden is important to her, but, really, it hardly compares with the work I’m doing. I tried to explain that to her, but she’s so… I don’t mean to imply she’s ignorant, but, let’s be frank, her understanding of complex issues is limited.”

  “Why the hell does she even want you there?” Jim barked.

  Jane pretended not to pick up on his belligerence, which was so like his son’s. “Who can account for the whims of an old lady?”

  Cal broke in. “I’ll tell you what I think? Jane’s got a cantankerous nature, just like Annie’s, and I think that’s why Annie loves having her around. The two of them have a lot in common.”

  “Lucky us,” Ethan muttered.

  Her cheeks burned, and Cal must have sensed that she’d gone as far as she could because he turned the conversation to a discussion of Ethan’s skiing trip. Before long they were all seated at the dinner table.

  Jane did her best to look bored while she drank in every detail. She observed the easy affection between the two brothers and the unconditional love Jim and Lynn had for their sons. Despite the problems between her in-laws, she would have given anything to belong to this family instead of the distant father she’d grown up with.

  Several times during the meal the conversation turned toward Jim’s work: an interesting case he had, a new medical procedure. Jane found his descriptions too gory for the dinner table, but it didn’t seem to bother anyone else, and she concluded they were all accustomed to it. Cal, in particular, kept pressing his father for details.

  But Jane was most fascinated by Lynn. As the meal progressed, she spoke of art and music, as well as a reading group discussion she was leading on a new novel. She was also an excellent cook, and Jane found herself feeling increasingly intimidated. Was there anything this former mountain girl didn’t do well?

  Ethan nodded toward the table’s centerpiece, a crystal vase holding an arrangement of lilies and dendrobium orchids. “Where’d you get the flowers, Mom? Since Joyce Belik closed her shop after Christmas, I haven’t seen anything like that around here.”

  “I picked the arrangement up when I was in Asheville on Thursday. The lilies are getting a little limp, but I’m still enjoying them.”

  For the first time since they’d begun to eat, Jim addressed his wife directly. “Do you remember the way you used to decorate the table right after we got married?”

  She was still for a moment. “It was so long ago I’ve forgotten.”

  “Well, I haven’t.” He turned toward his sons. “Your mother’d pick dandelions out of somebody’s backyard, stick ’em in an old pickle jar, and show ’em off to me when I came in from class like they were some exotic flower I’d never seen before. She’d get as excited about a jar full of dandelions as other women get about roses.”

  Jane wondered if Jim had intended to embarrass his wife with this reminder of her humble roots, but if so, his strategy backfired. Lynn didn’t seem at all embarrassed, but his own voice had deepened with an emotion that surprised her. Maybe Jim Bonner wasn’t as contemptuous of his wife’s humble roots as he pretended to be.

  “You used to get so annoyed with me,” she said, “and I can’t blame you. Imagine. Dandelions on the dinner table.”

  “It wasn’t just flowers she used for centerpieces. I remember one time she scrubbed up a bunch of rocks she thought were pretty and set them in a bird’s nest she found.”

  “You very rightly pointed out that a bird’s nest on the kitchen table was disgusting and refused to eat until I threw it out.”

  “Yeah, I did, didn’t I?” He rubbed his fingers on the stem of his wineglass and frowned. “It might have been unsanitary, but it sure was pretty.”

  “Really, Jim, it was no such thing.” She smiled, cool, serene, unaffected by the currents of old emotions that seemed to have claimed her husband.

  For the first time since they’d sat down, he met Lynn’s eyes straight on. “You always liked pretty things.”

  “I still do.”

  “But now they have to have labels on them.”

  “And you enjoy those labels much more than you ever enjoyed dandelions or birds’ nests.”

  Despite her promise to distance herself from the family, Jane couldn’t bear the idea of witnessing any more unpleasantness.

  “How did you manage in those first years after you were married? Cal said you had no money.”

  Cal and Ethan exchanged a glance that made Jane wonder if she’d stumbled on a forbidden topic. She realized her question was overly personal, but since she was supposed to be obnoxious, what difference did it make?

  “Yeah, Dad, exactly how did you manage?” Ethan said.

  Lynn dabbed at the corners of her lips with her napkin. “It’s too depressing. Your father hated every minute of it, and I don’t want his dinner spoiled.”

  “I didn’t hate every minute of it.” Jim seemed pensive as he leaned back in his chair. “We lived in this ugly two-room apartment in Chapel Hill that looked out over an alley where people’d throw rusted bedsprings and old couches. The place was hopeless, but your mother loved it. She tore pictures out of National Geographics and hung them on the walls. We didn’t have any curtains, just two window shades that had turned yellow, and she made tissue-paper flowers out of pink Kleenex to pin across the bottoms. Things like that. We were poor as church mice. I stocked grocery shelves when I wasn’t in class or studying, but she had the worst of it. Right up until the day Cal was born, she got up at four in the morning to work all day in a bakery. But no matter how tired she was, she’d still find time to pick those dandelions on her way home.”

  Lynn shrugged. “Believe me, working in that bakery wasn’t nearly as difficult as the farm chores I’d been doing on Heartache Mountain.”

  “But you were pregnant,” Jane pointed out, trying to imagine it.

  “I was young and strong. In love.” For the first time, Lynn looked slightly ruffled. “After Cal was born, we had medical bills on top of everything else, and since I couldn’t work in the bakery and still take care of him, I began experimenting with cookie recipes.”

  “She’d start baking as soon as she’d given him his two o’clock feeding, work until four, then go back to sleep for an hour or so until he woke again. After she’d fed him, she’d wake me up for class. Then she’d wrap everything up, load Cal into an old buggy she’d found in a junk shop, pack the cookies around him, and walk to campus where she’d sell them to the students, two cookies for twenty-five cents. She didn’t have a license, so whenever the campus cops came around, she’d cover up everything but Cal’s head with this big blanket.”

  She smiled at Cal. “Poor thing. I knew nothing about babies, and I nearly suffocated you in the summer.”

  Cal regarded her fondly. “I still don’t like a lot of covers on me.”

  “The cops never caught on,” Jim said. “All they saw was a sixteen-year-old mountain girl in a pair of worn-out jeans pushing a dilapidated buggy with a baby everybody figured was her little brother.”

  Ethan’s expression grew thoughtful. “We always knew you had it tough, but you’d never tell us any of the details. How come?”

  And why now? Jane wondered.

  Lynn rose. “It’s an old and boring story. Poverty’s only charming in retrospect. Help me clear the table for dessert, will you, Ethan?”

  To Jane’s disappointment, the conversation shifted to the much less interesting topic of football, and if Jim Bonner’s troubled gaze kept straying back to his wife, no one else seemed to notice.

  As boorish as his behavior had been that afternoon, Jane was no longer quite so eager to pass judgment. There was something sad lurking in the depths of his eyes that touched her. When it came to Cal’s parents, she had the feeling that nothing was quite what it seemed.

  For her, the most interesting moment came when Ethan asked Cal how his meetings were going, and she learned what her husband was doing with his time. Cal had been enlisted by
the local high-school principal, an old classmate of his, to visit county businessmen and persuade them to get involved with a new vocational program for high-risk students. He also seemed to be giving Ethan a considerable amount of money to expand a drug program for county teens, but when she pressed for more details, he changed the subject.

  The evening dragged on. When Jim asked her a question about her work, she patronized him with her explanation. Lynn issued an invitation to join her book group, but Jane said she had no time for ladies’ social gatherings. When Ethan said he hoped he’d see her at Sunday services, she told him she wasn’t a believer.

  I’m sorry, God, but I’m doing the best I can here. These are nice people, and they don’t need any more heartache.

  It was finally time to go. Everyone was rigidly courteous, but she didn’t miss Jim’s frown as he said good-bye or the deep concern in Lynn’s eyes as she hugged her son.

  Cal waited until he’d pulled out of the driveway before he looked over at her. “Thanks, Jane.”

  She stared straight ahead. “I can’t go through that again. Keep them away from me.”

  “I will.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I know that wasn’t easy for you,” he said softly.

  “They’re wonderful people. It was horrible.”

  He didn’t speak again until they reached the edge of town. “I’ve been thinking. What say the two of us go out on a date sometime soon?”

  Was this to be her reward for humiliating herself tonight? The fact that he’d chosen this particular time to extend his invitation made her waspish. “Do I have to wear a paper bag over my head in case somebody might see me?”

  “Now why d’you have to go and get all sarcastic on me? I asked you out, and all you have to say is yes or no.”

  “When?”

  “I don’t know. How about next Wednesday night?”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t you worry about that. Just wear the tightest pair of jeans you’ve got and maybe one of those slinky halter tops.”