To Keep Her Baby

Home > Other > To Keep Her Baby > Page 5
To Keep Her Baby Page 5

by Melissa Senate


  Right now, Ginger’s hair was almost to her waist. “Do what you have to do,” she said and squeezed her eyes shut.

  A Gallagher sister giggled. Ginger opened one eye and sent the young woman her best faux-angry look, then laughed. Then squeezed her eyes shut again. Here goes...

  Snip. Snip-snip. Snippet-snip-snip. It was taking forever.

  Ginger told the stylist to spin her around so she couldn’t see herself in the mirror during the cut. As the blow-dryer started whirring, the brush pulling through her much shorter and lighter-feeling hair, the Gallagher sisters stood in front of her, murmuring their approval.

  “You’re going to love it, Ginger,” Amelia said. “Your hair is now my length.”

  Ginger eyed her. Amelia’s hair was well past her shoulders. Phew. Merry’s was a chin-length bob with a fringe of bangs. Ginger liked Merry’s hair, but she wasn’t going that short. No way.

  The blow-dryer stopped. “Are you ready to see your new look?” the stylist asked.

  “I’m ready,” she squeaked.

  The chair was spun around. “Oh my gawd! I look flipping awesome! I look like a newscaster!” She ran a hand down the sleek tresses, some long layers in the front. “I love it!”

  After the stylist told her what products would work well in her thick hair, he left her in the hands of the makeup artist, who immediately told Ginger she had a “less is more” approach.

  “That is supposed to be my motto, so I’m all in,” Ginger said. Not ten minutes later, she was done. “Wow,” she said, peering closer to the mirror. “I look so...natural.”

  “But enhanced!” Amelia said.

  “You look gorge!” Merry added. “You’re so pretty.”

  Ginger beamed. “Aww, thanks. I kind of miss my red lips though.”

  The makeup artist handed her a tube of lipstick. “It’s called Gwen Stefani Red. For evening. And it’s on me.”

  Ginger grinned. “Wow, thanks!”

  In her new jeans, flat silver sandals and a black tank top with a square neckline stitched with tiny white stars, Ginger stood up and examined herself in the full-length mirror. “I look totally different. I didn’t even know I could look like this.” She turned to Amelia and Merry. “Like you guys.”

  “And your outfit and hair and makeup are still very much you,” Amelia said.

  “Madame Davenport is going to be most pleased,” Merry added in an upper-crust accent with a shot of giggle.

  As they left the salon, Ginger let out a giant yawn. She hadn’t slept well last night, tossing and turning and thinking about James and all he’d said yesterday on that bench. About leaving. She’d been unable to stop picturing his face and the way his whole face lit up when he smiled. His amazing body, long and lean and muscular. Somehow she had to stop liking him that way immediately. Not only was he leaving town in a few weeks, but he had zero interest in becoming a father. And “interest in becoming a father” was numero uno on her checklist for Mr. Right.

  Amelia suggested going to Coffee Zone to celebrate Ginger’s new look, so off they went, settling into a back table with their iced drinks. Ginger was the only one who’d gotten a decadent treat.

  “The baby likes salted caramel blondies, what can I say?” Ginger joked, taking a bite.

  “I love that you do whatever you want,” Merry said, pushing a swath of silky blond hair behind her ear. “If I ordered something like that, I’d feel like all eyes were on me eating it.”

  Ginger’s eyes bugged out. “What the hell for?”

  Merry shrugged. “Like I shouldn’t be eating junk food, I guess.”

  Ginger’s mouth dropped open. “Please tell me you didn’t learn that from the etiquette school. Because if you did, I’m dropping out. That is B to the S!”

  “It’s just my own stupid thing,” Merry said. “James is always telling me I care too much what people think.”

  “Strangers especially,” Amelia added, her brown eyes thoughtful on her sister. “But I know what Merry means. People judge. Especially us, since now we work for Larilla. We’re expected to be perfect.”

  “These whoevers sitting in here expect you to be perfect?” Ginger asked. “Or you expect you to be perfect?”

  Merry and Ginger glanced at each other. “I guess we expect it,” Merry said. “We want to make Larilla proud. She’s James’s godmother but has become like a treasured auntie to us.”

  Amelia nodded. “And with everything James sacrificed for us, we owe him, you know? He loves that we’re working for the etiquette school. He sees us taking it over one day—far in the future, of course. Larilla told him she hopes we will. She has two grown sons who work on Wall Street—they’ve never had interest in the school.”

  “Hold up,” Ginger said, putting down the blondie, which she’d been about to take a big bite of. “Do either of you even want to be working at the etiquette school?”

  The sisters glanced at each other and gave half shrugs.

  “Honestly, Ginger,” Merry said, “we don’t know what we want. But with Josie doing her thing and making James nuts, we don’t really want to rock the boat, I guess.”

  “Josie?” Ginger repeated.

  “Our sister. There’s three girls and two boys. Josie quit college a few weeks ago when she had only one semester to go. She wants to be a singer. She gets gigs in bars and it drives James insane. He wants her to finish college and have that as a backup and focus on more ‘sensible’ career pursuits.”

  “Ah. So you guys work at Madame Davenport’s because A, James can see you two taking over the business one day, and B, because you don’t know what else you’d want to do.”

  “Right,” Merry said. “James gave up so much for all of us. He was all set to attend the London School of Economics for his MBA, but then he had to move back to Wedlock Creek. Can you imagine being twenty-one, like we are,” she added, wagging a finger between her and Amelia, “and suddenly being the sole guardian of five thirteen-year olds?”

  Ginger tried to imagine James at twenty-one, all set to go abroad for graduate school, and instead dealing with five grieving, hormonal new teens. Not to mention his own grief. It couldn’t have been easy.

  Amelia sipped her iced mocha. “He worked all day, came home at six to make dinner and get us to do our homework, help us study, stayed up all night when we were sick, and comforted us when we missed our mom and dad so much we’d just sit and cry for hours. He didn’t just take care of us—he made us feel like a family even though we didn’t have parents.”

  Merry nodded. “He didn’t date either. His life was work and us. There’s no way he could have fitted in a relationship back then.”

  “He was dating someone seriously too,” Amelia said. “His college girlfriend. She dumped him so fast after he moved back home to take care of us.”

  “Jeez,” Ginger muttered. No wonder James was so ready to fly the coop and see the world. Not only had had he been weighed down with heavy responsibilities the past seven years, he’d been through the romantic wringer—twice, apparently.

  And no wonder he couldn’t even imagine starting a family before a decade from now. Ginger totally got it.

  “All I know is that we owe him,” Amelia said. “I wish Josie felt like us, but she’s always marched to her own drum.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing,” Ginger said. “Not doing something out of obligation. Finding a happy medium.”

  The Gallagher sisters eyed her, Merry twisting her lips as if taking that in, and Amelia giving a bit of a shrug. Ginger had her work cut out for her with these two.

  Not that she should be getting involved in the inner workings of the Gallagher family. Their lives were their business. That should be everyone’s motto.

  Except if someone was on the wrong path, maybe you should point it out. Right? Then again, who said what path was wrong or right?

&nbs
p; Argh. Why did life have to be so confusing?

  “Ginger?” Merry said, a gleam forming in her eyes. “Are you going to share that salted caramel blondie or what?”

  Ginger grinned and grabbed the plastic knife. “Now you’re tawking.”

  As she cut the blondie into three, she pictured James and wondered what he was doing. Probably finalizing his plans for his big summer trip, fantasizing about the places he’d go and how he’d wake up with no one to think about but himself and what he wanted to do that day.

  She wished he were sitting right here with them, making her laugh and giving her “that look,” which meant she’d said something outrageous but had every right. He got her. He really did.

  Stop thinking about him that way! she ordered herself. The man was outta here. And he wasn’t remotely interested in her anyway. A little Ginger would come into the world. A decade too early for James Gallagher.

  You’ll be ten by the time he’s ready for parenthood, she whispered silently to Bluebell, her pet name for her baby. Me with a ten-year-old kid. She shook her head. Crazy.

  But it kept her head set on straight—her goal was to make herself into a mom, be a person whose kid couldn’t get taken away, be a woman who would do right by that kid in every way, at every turn. And that included finding a father for her baby, a great guy who’d love Bluebell like his own. She had to remember that James Gallagher wasn’t that guy. No matter how much she was starting to wish he was.

  * * *

  “No one quits college with one semester left!” James bellowed in the kitchen as he hit the on switch for the coffee maker. He needed a ton of caffeine stat. “No one!”

  “Well, I did!” Josie bellowed back. “And stop telling me what to do. I’m an adult!”

  Do not say, “Then act like it,” he ordered himself, taking a breath and turning to face her. He had to stop being reactive and emotional, and talk to Josie adult to adult, convince her that the right thing to do was to go back to college in the fall. And since he was leaving in a few weeks, he couldn’t spend the summer badgering her. He had to make her see reason before he left. Why, when he was so good at working with strangers to find solutions to their problems, could he not get through to his own sister?

  Because Josie didn’t think she had a problem. According to her, he was the problem.

  “Statistics show that those who drop out of college don’t return,” he said, getting out a mug from the cabinet. “The best time is now.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes. Now is the best time for me to pursue my dreams.”

  Why was she so stubborn? Amelia and Merry weren’t this stubborn. Neither were their two brothers. “So pursue your dreams over the summer, then go back in the fall and finish your final semester.”

  She gave a groan of frustration, throwing up her hands. “James. Listen. To. Me. I’m done with college. My GPA is terrible anyway. I was on academic probation.”

  He sighed. “I wished you would have called me for help, Josie. I would have driven out to your school. You know that.”

  She let out a breath. “I don’t want help. I want to do what I want with my life.”

  Her shoulders slumped for a moment, and sadness crept into her brown eyes before she faced away from him and reached into the cabinet for a mug too.

  Someone cleared her throat and it wasn’t Josie. He poked his head out of the kitchen doorway and looked toward the source of the sound. Ginger and his two other sisters stood at the front door, Ginger giving him “that look” and his sisters acting fidgety.

  All the fight went out of him. He hated arguing with Josie. He hated stressing out Amelia and Merry. He hated that he was so close to his long-awaited dream to see the world without a care and instead felt the weight of the world on his shoulders where Josie was concerned. He just wanted her on the right path before he left so that he wouldn’t have to worry about her.

  Josie, mug of coffee in hand, used the distraction to disappear, as did Merry and Amelia. But nothing could have distracted him from noticing Ginger’s new, new look. Her hair was still blond, but a softer color like pale honey, and it was several inches shorter.

  She walked toward him. “Do I smell coffee? I just had some decaf, but I’d love another cup if that’s the growing-baby-friendly kind.”

  He nodded toward the kitchen and she followed him inside. “I’ll make you a cup of decaf. You look great, by the way. Really, really great.”

  Now she crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you paid to say that?”

  “Why would Larilla pay me to compliment you?” he asked.

  “To win me over to the light side. Give me a boost about the new me.”

  “You can see for yourself that you look like the woman you want to turn into, Ginger.”

  “True. You’re just so bossy with your sisters that I wonder if you even see me,” she said.

  “Exqueeze me?” he asked, Josie’s favorite “how dare you” query bursting out of him before he could stop himself. “Where did that come from? What do you know about my relationship with my sisters?”

  “Uh, the entire town just heard you bossing Josie around, Gallagher. Demanding she listen to you and follow your way of thinking.”

  “Because I’m right. Because I make sense.”

  “Who—” she began, then bit her lip and glanced down.

  Who died and left you king? was what she was going to say. He knew it. And she knew he knew.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Now I’m being bossy. And a jerk.”

  He let his head fall back as she stared at the ceiling. Then he stepped closer to her. “You’re not a jerk. I’d rather you spoke your mind than didn’t.”

  “But I don’t agree with you.”

  “No kidding,” he said. “But at least I know how you feel. And getting other points of view is good, especially from people you respect.”

  She put her hands on her curvy hips. “Would you respect me if I didn’t look like a newscaster on her day off?”

  He laughed. “Yes. Because you tell it like you see it. And you’re smart. It’s a good combo.”

  She seemed to take that in. “Stop making it hard for me to want to conk you on the head with a banana.” She eyed the bunch in a bowl filled with fruit.

  “Because I’m telling Josie what to do?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “And because you should listen more, demand less.”

  He sighed. “I listen.”

  “Oh? What are Merry’s dreams for her life?”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Should I repeat the question?”

  “She doesn’t talk about her dreams.”

  “Does Amelia?”

  He thought about that for a second. “Now that I think about it, no.”

  “Hmm. Two of your brothers are off pursuing their dreams. But Amelia and Merry are right here, safe and snug, aren’t they?”

  “Meaning?” he asked, joining the crossing-his-arms-over-his-chest party.

  “Meaning that maybe they’re toeing the line because they love you and care about you.”

  “Oh, come on,” he said. “Merry and Amelia plan to take over the business from Larilla one day. They’re her apprentices.”

  “Well, one day you should spend some time thinking about how that happened in the first place.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, tired of the subject.

  “Exactly. Which is why you should think about it.”

  Exasperating woman! He needed an escape plan, and luckily he had one. “Look, Ginger. I have a lot of work to do to take care of loose ends at the office and I need to get my ad for an administrative assistant in before five or I’ll miss the deadline for the Gazette’s classifieds.”

  She canted her head, and he could see she was deep in thought. “You’re lookin
g for an admin? Why? You’re gonna be gone all summer.”

  “My current assistant put in her notice because her husband got a great job out of state. I thought I could just handle things on my own, but there’s a lot of paperwork and billing to keep track of, and I’d like to have someone in part-time over the summer.”

  “Great. I’ll take the job,” she said, extending her hand.

  “Um, what?” He stared at her, waiting for the inevitable Just kidding!

  Instead she said, “I need a job, James. A job that doesn’t involve plunking shots of whiskey on sticky tables and getting leered at. The kind of job that’s child-custody-friendly. That threat will be hanging over my head, you know? So I need to do things right.”

  Oh hell.

  “You just said I was smart. And now I look very admin-y, don’t I?” She flashed her pearly whites and ran a hand down her sleek honey-colored hair.

  Actually, hiring Ginger made sense. She was smart and she needed a job, and he would be gone for the majority of the time she’d be working for him. He could do her a favor. And he’d never have to worry about being too attracted to her, falling for her, because by the time he got back, if he ever forgot she was pregnant, her baby bump would be a constant growing reminder. She’d be very pregnant by the end of August.

  Win-win.

  He suddenly pictured Ginger O’Leary six, seven months pregnant. On her own. The threat from that jerk hanging over her head. She was changing everything about herself to make that threat go away.

  He had the sudden urge to pull her into a hug and hold her, tell her everything would be okay, that he had her back.

  The best he could do was stick out his hand and say, “Welcome to James Gallagher Solutions.”

  The happiness on her face meant more to him than he wanted to think about.

 

‹ Prev