Roll of a Lifetime

by Melanie Greene

  “Makes sense. And no harm in cutting short that cycle of blame we had going on. I’m sure Hannah was sitting in the back seat listening to him talk to me like that.”

  “Hard to avoid old patterns.”

  Damn he was nice. Insightful, and nice. She straightened. “I just realized it’s still raining.”

  “Yep.”

  “And he took her to the zoo.”

  “Yep.”

  “I hope he paid for admission before she got sick.”

  “If you tell me you also hope she barfed on his shoes I may have to reconsider how I’m taking the news of our pregnancy. Want me to drive you over or would you rather follow in your car?”

  She stared at him. How quick everything flew out of her mind when she was focused on Hannah. “Theo. Oh. I’m being so unfair. I’m really sorry. Do you—what should we, should I call Sergei back and tell him to deal with it? It’s not like he can’t figure it out. She probably just needs some crackers and downtime.”

  “No, let’s go. I told him to be in before the lunch shift. I’ll take the day off. Give myself some time to think before I pick up Andres. About Ron and everything, too.”

  “Going through a real when it rains it pours kind of week, aren’t you?”

  “You and me, honey, we can weather any storm.”

  He was teasing to set her at ease, and he was the one taking on all the heavy news. She leaned in to kiss him, hug some warmth into his still-damp torso. “As soon as I get Hannah cleaned up a little, we’ll head out and give you some space.”

  He returned her warmth tenfold. “If she’s okay, maybe you can stick around a little. If she’d be comfortable napping at mine. I’d like if we could spend a little more time talking.”

  She nodded. Not sure what the next hours would hold, much less the next weeks and months and years, but they had to start somewhere. And it seemed that ‘somewhere’ would take place between naps and episodes of Peppa Pig. Which was all too fitting. Time had a lot of telling to do.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Poor Hannah really was sick. One look at the flushed cheeks in her wan face and he knew talking was done for the day. And on top of dragging a feverish toddler through the rain to the zoo, Serg lied about having her stuffed elephant with them. He was tempted to fire the guy on the spot, just for being an abysmal father. Instead he carted Hannah inside so her parents could get through whatever conversation they needed. She refused toast and water but agreed to help him make her some strawberry juice. When Rachel came back inside, Hannah was sitting on the counter, squeezing a lime into the blender. “Grab us a cup?”

  She did, and then got hands on her daughter, checking her fiery forehead and rubbing her back while he pulsed together the ingredients for an electrolyte drink. The pride that surged through him when she drank down a few ounces and held out her cup for more was way outsized for the actual service rendered.

  They went into care-taking mode. He ran a bath while she phoned the doctor. He found a few age-appropriate toys while she coaxed Hannah to let go long enough to be stripped and cleaned. He took the laundry and cleaned the kitchen, and then he was out of tasks. He tidied Andres’s room, took a towel to the wet footprints in the foyer, but it was busywork, not the essential stuff required for a sick child. It did nothing to distract him. When he found himself tempted to offer to run Hannah to the pediatrician so Rachel could get to work, he admitted defeat. He was grasping, and on top of that, unnecessary. She had it under control. Her boss knew she wasn’t coming in, her friend was bringing them both dinner and Effie later, her point about keeping germs away from Andres was solid. All he could do was hold the umbrella on the walk to her car and kiss them goodbye.

  Alone again, he called Ron to come over once he got the lunch shift underway. Which gave him around an hour to skim their partnership agreement and email their lawyer. He wasn’t decided on anything, though Ron’s betrayal felt more fraught in light of the baby news. Maybe it had stripped away some veneer of calm, some willingness to smooth it over for the sake of peace. Maybe Elixir’s success meant more now there was another person to support.

  Maybe all of it.

  The only sure thing was how fucking tired he was of nothing being sure.

  Ear infection. Not a raging one, not one that went untreated for days and days until her eardrum burst and pus was oozing out of it. More than enough for Hannah to be cranky and make herself sick from the stress of feeling bad and being off her routines.

  So, another day off work. Another day to remind herself she needed to line up emergency childcare, now that Mary Lynn was happy off in Brenham. Natalie and Gillian pushed around their schedules to cobble together a few afternoon hours so she was able to meet with clients on Tuesday, and never mind that her first trimester picked this convenient moment to throw more symptoms her way. The morning nausea opted to meander unpredictability throughout the day, and crap but her boobs hurt. Meanwhile Hannah was a portrait of misery unless she could flop her head upon her mama’s breast.

  Entertaining as it was to one-handed text her friends with misspelled, gripe-filled updates, she was more than ready for the distraction when Theo stopped by Wednesday morning. “Are you infectious?”

  “I think we’re clear now, but maybe don’t lick my dishes.”

  He handed over a bag of bagels and a plush rhino. “Noted. Do you want me to clean the kitchen? I don’t mind.”

  Melting her heart when she was almost shaky from exhaustion. Rude. Unfair. Adorable.

  And too much an echo of the way Sergei treated her in the early, solicitous days of their relationship. And then again whenever he’d come close to crossing an inviolable line. Because: cycles. Like her therapist explained. If he’d started strong then veered only downhill she’d have gotten out sooner. Instead he had been attuned to all the ways she responded to his escalating derision and demands, and knew just when to pull back and love bomb her with his charm again.

  She needed ... something. Something surefire to show her she wasn’t falling for Sergei all over again. “Are you disgusted by me right now?”

  He leaned back, head tilted. “Am I what?”

  “This?” She gestured to show off her flop of an unwashed ponytail, food stained tee, and yoga pants she’d been wearing since he’d last seen her on Monday. “My general unclean state and not bothering to even put away the laundry when I knew you were coming over?”

  He wanted to parse her question, get at the hidden meaning. But he couldn’t. “Hannah’s sick. I mean, not like it matters if you’re, I don’t know, a little sloppy in your own home. It’s not a national emergency. But you’re pregnant and Hannah’s sick, so if you’re looking for a get out of laundry free card, seems like this would be a good time for it.”

  She slumped into a chair at the dining table and dug through the bagel bag. He grabbed a couple of plates and a toddler-friendly knife. Hannah dashed over, abandoning the puzzle she’d been absorbed with until she saw the food. While Rachel got her set up spreading cream cheese, he found a clean dishtowel and tackled the kitchen.

  “I think I’m looking for problems.”

  Her quiet confession, spoken more to the back of his shoulder than to his face, eased through him. He turned and smiled. “Am I passing the test? Or failing? Whichever you hoped for?”

  For the briefest of moments, she rested her forehead against his chest. Then she reached for a sippy cup and filled it with juice. “You keep passing. I keep testing, and you keep passing.”

  “You seem thrilled by my success.”

  She shook her head, but indulgent and sweet. What a goner he was. Let her throw all the tests and trials she had at him. Let him work to live up to her staunchest demands.

  Clarity. A relief to have it about one aspect of his life, however uncertain her side of things. His sister Helen would ask if he was clinging to his feelings for Rachel because they gave him a roadmap, an anchor while he recalibrated everything else around him. His cousin would reassure him that
he knew his own heart best and was old enough to watch out for himself. So what did Helen know, anyway?

  In case showing up with breakfast and pitching in with chores wasn’t enough to signal his intentions, he waited until Hannah was settled in to her meal and led Rachel far enough down the hall for a modicum of privacy. “We haven’t had much chance to talk.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “Not really, no.”

  Conscious of the child just out of his line of sight, he got straight to the point. “I’m all in. You, us, the baby. Everything.”

  She hugged herself tighter, eyes wide. He couldn’t figure out the hidden message in her body language, either. Not overwhelming glee, anyway. So that told him a great deal.

  Pursed lips. Peering in Hannah’s direction. Shifting jaw. White knuckles. Yeah. Not overwhelming glee at all.

  “I—”

  He rushed on, to avoid hearing what he wasn’t ready to hear. Later he’d decide if it was cowardice or conviction. “Okay. I can go. I should go, I have to be at the lawyer’s office in half an hour. I thought I should let you know. Wanted to let you know. That I’m committed. To the baby. Also, and you knew beforehand I think, to us.”

  “Lawyer?”

  Of all the words to snag her attention. Not committed, not us. Lawyer. “Elixir’s lawyer. Because of Ron. It’s—complex.”

  The thinnest of laughs, but she unclenched her hands. “I’m sorry. Shit, I should have asked. Hannah, and the bagels, and I am so sorry. What’s happening with Ron?”

  He shook his head. “Complex.” Understatement, but what was he going to say? My business might be folding. I have no idea how I’ll support myself and my son and our future child, and side bonus: Hannah’s child support will also stop coming in cause I’m looking at letting go all my employees. Not something he could convey in the eighteen—no, fourteen—minutes he had before walking out her door.

  Her hand was warm on his cheek. Almost too warm; he scanned her face for signs of fever, but found only exhaustion and concern. “I should have asked. This,” she waved her other hand towards the kitchen, “we’ll get through this, it’s manageable. An everyday kind of thing. Messy, but everyday. Ron and Elixir, that’s not. I want you to know you can talk to me about it.”

  Now he had chills up his nape. “Thanks. It’s kind of terrible news all round. And I’m not trying to, I don’t know, protect you or withhold information. Talking it through with you would actually be helpful, but you’ve got Hannah and I’ve got an appointment and so for now I’ve got to go it alone.”

  If anything, she looked queasier. “It’s that bad?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe not. That’s what the meeting’s for. But listen: no matter what happens, I’ll figure it out. Opening a restaurant was always a gamble, and I didn’t go into that without evaluating the risks and setting up parameters to protect myself.”

  “Spreadsheets?” One wry word from her, and he could stop pacing the too-short hallway and cloak himself in calm.

  He pressed his back against the wall and tried to sound reassuring. “Yeah, spreadsheets. A few graphs, too. And a business plan and partnership agreement and several quarters’ worth of reports. So. Ron wants out. That’s the short answer to where we are now. I was ready to work on some kind of trust-rebuilding scheme but he wants out. And that scares me, and I don’t know if it’s possible to go on without him, or if I even want to, and I love you, but I have to go meet with my lawyer.”

  Tugging him away from the wall, she circled his waist and held him in a long hug. Her head on his shoulder. Her hands stroking up his ribs. As if she wasn’t already carrying enough, and had plenty of strength left to carry him.

  “Okay, go. Don’t be late. Thanks for the bagels. Call me when you can.”

  They walked, still touching, to the door. After a brief detour so he could brush back Hannah’s curls and feel for himself that she wasn’t so feverish anymore, he squeezed Rachel’s hand and closed his eyes to savor her brief kiss.

  It was only as he pulled into his lawyer’s parking lot that he realized he’d let slip that he loved her. And she hadn’t said anything in return.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  The careful plan involved getting up at four a.m. and driving several hours before Hannah even began to stir, much less got stirred up from too long in the car.

  The careful plan did not take into account first trimester queasiness and exhaustion.

  They left, instead, a half hour before Thursday rush hour traffic, and made it to Mary Lynn’s new home in time for dinner. Goldberg fed everyone his signature cassoulet after Hannah ran through the house, insisting Mary Lynn explain every shelf and corner of every room. Some combination of chamomile tea, stress, tiredness, and relief that she could leave her daughter in loving, capable hands worked to put her to sleep hours earlier than usual.

  Mary Lynn woke her at dawn with breakfast and all of her to-go containers full of kid-friendly snacks. “I had her on the potty before I packed all this up so she’s back in a deep enough sleep now. Are you sure you’re okay to go all that way? Because you can spend the vacation days here, you know. We’ll go see miniature horses and play at the lake and Goldberg will make every meal.”

  She groaned. “Too tempting. I’m not sure my parents would forgive me, though. And thanks to you tiring her out last night, we’ll be almost to Abilene before she even stirs, I bet. Plainview’s barely a hop from there.”

  All true in theory, for anyone willing to call three hours of driving a hop. But a thermos of ginger tea and a box of crackers weren’t enough to keep her stomach happy. She had to pull over twice, and the second stop roused Hannah. It was past lunchtime before they got to Abilene, and they both had frayed nerves as she navigated to a mall with an indoor play place.

  Legs stretched, bladders emptied, stomachs full, she checked Hannah in to a world of kid-sized jungle animals and fake rock tunnels. While her girl clambered up a zebra, Rachel settled herself on a bench to just be still for a little while. She sent an updated ETA to Aunt Johnston and a reassuring message to her friends before texting Theo.

  He phoned immediately.

  “Hey.”

  “How are you? How’s the road?”

  She smiled at the affection she could hear in his voice despite the mild chaos of the mall kids. “It’s slower going than I hoped, but we’re getting through it. Had some close calls on meltdowns earlier, but she’s tiring herself out now, so the rest of today should be fine.”

  “If you need to take an extra day, I can help with a hotel fee.”

  She didn’t even bristle at the offer. Another day of driving with a toddler might force her to contemplate why Theo getting solicitous didn’t raise her hackles anymore. “Thanks, but we’ll be fine. It shouldn’t be much over seven hours tomorrow, but if I’m feeling rotten we’ll stay an extra night with Aunt before we tackle it.”

  “And the car’s okay?” He had a paranoia about her car, born solely from knowing she’d planned on replacing it before she found out about the baby. He’d even tried to convince her to take his for this road trip, as if he wasn’t going to be driving his own child all over the state before she and Hannah made it back home.

  “It’s fine. I promise. Anyway, tell me if you’ve made any decisions yet.”

  The echoing space she sat in was so ill suited to understanding the nuances of his pause. After he and the lawyer met, he had plans that covered everything from running Elixir on his own to bringing in a new partner to closing entirely. None of them was ideal. None of them guaranteed him success. None of them guaranteed Sergei a job, for that matter, but she reminded him of the man’s habit of job-hopping in order to avoid the Attorney General. Keeping her ex employed shouldn’t be any kind of factor in his plans.

  Even if he discounted her, she made a point of stressing that fact.

  “Sorry, I had to shut the door. After lunch I’m going to talk with Marti. Her brother interviewed with Ron a few months ago, but he was too
qualified for what we needed. I don’t know if he’s still available, or if what I need now is too big a stretch for him, or—hell.” He sighed. “There are a lot of variables. But at least I came up with one plan that might salvage Elixir. So. That’s the goal.”

  Hannah sent herself tumbling down the back of an alligator. She popped up and checked to see if Rachel had been watching. Seeing her mama smile, she set about repeating her actions. “That’s a good goal.”

  “You think so?” He sounded anxious, and her free hand rubbed at her clavicle. Impossible to give him the assurance he craved, because way too much of the situation was out of either of their control.

  One thing, though, she could say. “I do, if it’s a goal that fulfills you. Elixir is a great place; you’ve made something special with it. I don’t know if I ever told you that. I know it’s a ton of work, but you’ve created community and a great atmosphere.”

  He was silent again, or maybe drowned out by the arrival of a crowd of elementary age kids. She stood to keep Hannah in her line of sight.

  “Thanks, that’s really good to hear.”

  “I may be biased by the great desserts, especially now I can’t drink beer for months.”

  “Buttering me up again?”

  “Ha. You’ve been pretty clear I don’t have to go out of my way to cater to your moods.” As she bantered right back at him, her casual words went straight to her bedrock. They were true. Theo wasn’t going to hold his goodness hostage if she failed to meet his expectations. He didn’t insist she only deserved his best if she lived up to whatever shifting standard he felt like imposing. And he’d never blame her for his own problems. Even now that a significant part of his burden was directly related to her.

  He could so easily have said, “I’ve got too much going on to deal with a baby. It’s not reasonable to do anything but terminate the pregnancy. And if you insist on having it, you’re on your own.”