by Holly Jacobs
“And when you told her, there was no support from her? She hurt you.”
Eli shook her head. “I shouldn’t let it get to me. I mean, I understand her reaction. She’s a scared, angry teen, and I was a place for her to vent.”
“After all you’ve done for her—”
“I did my job.” Even though Eli’d stopped crying and was barely hiccuping any longer, he still pulled her back into his arms. He thought she’d protest, but she simply returned his embrace.
“El, what you do for Ariel—for all the girls—is so much more than your job.”
She mumbled something against his chest, then simply went still, allowing him to comfort her. That was what all he wanted to do, and more.
She was obviously done talking. He could feel her relax in his arms, and for the longest time he just held her as he desperately tried to think of something, anything, to cheer her up.
“Hey, wanna go shopping this weekend?” He could have shot himself for breaking the comfortable silence because Eli’s head popped up off his shoulder.
“Is this a pity shop? See the pregnant woman cry and toss her a shopping bone?”
“No, this was a totally selfish request. I desperately need help buying Christmas presents for the ladies in the family. Dad and the boys are easy. I just buy them a subscription to Sports Illustrated, or something, and they’re happy. But you can’t just buy women magazine subscriptions. They get testy.”
Sitting there wearing an old college sweatshirt, her face streaked from her tears, she smiled and looked utterly beautiful to him. “How can I say no? I mean, saving your mom and sisters from a magazine subscription is a worthy cause.”
“Then it’s a date.”
“Zac, we’ve had this discussion.” She scooted toward the end of the couch, putting as much distance as possible between them. “I just want to be clear.”
“Eli, answer me this—do you like spending time with me?” He wasn’t sure she was going to answer, but slowly she nodded her head. “And I like spending time with you. So, what’s the difference if we call it two friends going shopping together, or dating?”
“A world of difference, and you know it. Maybe we shouldn’t go.”
“Or maybe we should—” Zac was done. He’d been playing the nice guy since September. He’d been her buddy, her pal, and while he loved that, he wanted them to be a proper couple. So in a decisive, non-buddy, non-pal way he moved closer to her and kissed her. He didn’t hold her, although he wanted to. He wouldn’t force the kiss, but she didn’t back up. If anything she deepened it. She made a small sound of pleasure in the back of her throat that was almost his undoing.
After months, Zac Keller was kissing Eli Cartwright the way he’d longed to since the day they’d met.
He could have gone on doing so for much longer, but slowly, he withdrew. “I think we could safely go shopping and call it a date.”
“Zac, you’re younger than me and I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.”
“I think there’s a chance you’re saying those things to remind yourself, more than remind me, why you’re scared. I’m not scared by our age difference. I mean, you wouldn’t think anything of it if I were the older one, would you?” She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.
“So, that’s a double standard, isn’t it?” He added, “As for the baby, well, I’ll admit, the timing’s odd and we’re not talking about forever, only a date, but Eli, the idea of a baby that’s not mine isn’t a deterrent, either. You know that my siblings and I are adopted, just looking at us, it’s obvious. I learned a long time ago that being a family has everything to do with love.”
At the word she frowned and sniffled some more.
“But we’re not talking about love,” he hastily assured her. “We’re talking about a Christmas shopping date. I’ll come pick you up, we’ll head to Erie and the Millcreek Mall, and since it’s a date, you’ll let me take you to dinner afterward. I’ll open doors for you, and hold your chair.”
“What if we’re sitting at a booth?” she asked softly.
Zac hadn’t realized how tense he was, but as she teased him, he felt his neck and shoulder muscles release. She was going to say yes. “I’ll take you someplace that has tables.”
“This is probably not a good idea. We haven’t even talked about the fact I’m on the rebound.”
There were many things in life that Zac didn’t know, and he was the first to admit them. But this one he knew with utter certainty—Eli wasn’t on the rebound with Arthur. Whatever they had was over. “No, I think there’s a month or so that’s the rebound zone. And we were friends hanging out then. You’re past that, so we can date without worrying.”
She patted her small baby bump. “Not worrying?”
He leaned forward and gave her a small tender kiss on the cheek. “I’m not worried in the least.”
“Zac, you’re crazy.”
About you was the response he’d have liked to give, but he’d taken this as far as he dared tonight. They were going on a date. That was enough progress for an evening. “Hey, have you met my family? I’m the sane one.”
She gave him a more convincing smile. “Yes, I have met them and they’re quite sane.”
“Oh, come on, you’re just being nice. They’re nuts.”
“You’re nuts about them.”
“Guilty.” And because she seemed to be feeling better and he was feeling daring, he went ahead and added, “And I’m nuts about you.”
She gave him a tsk tsk. “What am I going to do about you?”
“Right now, you’re going to follow me into the kitchen, where I’m going to check your refrigerator and find something to feed you. Then, I’m challenging you to a brisk game of Scrabble. I saw the box in the closet.”
“Feed me first?”
“Hey, when I totally trounce you, I don’t want you crying because you were at a disadvantage because you were hungry.”
“As if you’ll beat me. My mom and Tucker refuse to play with me because I win a lot. And by a lot I mean, most of the time.”
“How about your dad?” he asked, as he walked toward the kitchen with her trailing after him.
“Who do you think taught me how to play? Our games were cutthroat.”
“Well, we’ll have to see how we match up.” He was pretty sure they’d be a good match, win, lose or draw.
THE NEXT DAY, ZAC CHECKED Ariel’s schedule and was waiting in the employee’s room when she clocked in. “How’s it going, Ariel?”
Ariel looked nervous. “Fine, Mr. Keller.”
She hurried to her locker and stowed her coat and purse, and pulled out her cashier’s smock. Carefully buttoning it over her swollen stomach, she turned and saw him waiting. “Really, everything’s fine. I love working here.”
But it wasn’t fine. He could tell. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Sure. How about you? I hear congratulations are in order.” There was a hardness in her tone.
He didn’t confirm or deny he was Eli’s baby’s father. He just said quietly, “Whatever there is between Ms. Cartwright and me is our business, Ariel.”
“Sure, yours and the baby’s. That’s what Ms. Cartwright always says, that it takes two people to make a baby and both are responsible for it.” She snorted. “Sometimes the guys don’t get her classroom notes on the subject though.”
“There are similarities between your situation and Ms. Cartwright’s, but there’s one major difference. She’s an adult. A self-supporting adult who knows what she wants.” He paused and asked gently, “Why does this bother you so much?”
“Why?” Ariel kicked her locker door shut. “’Cause there she is, Ms. Cartwright, a teacher who knows about this stuff. And still, she makes a mistake—”
“Did she say the baby was a mistake?” he asked pointedly.
Ariel shook her head.
“Well, why would you assume it is?”
“I—”
“Listen, I’m not sure why y
ou’re so mad at her. And I don’t want to get in the middle of it. I will say, however, that you hurt her. And though I know Ms. Cartwright doesn’t play favorites, you’re special to her. I don’t know how you couldn’t know that.”
He walked out of the room without looking back.
He knew that Eli wouldn’t appreciate his interfering, but he couldn’t stand to see her cry as she had last night. And if he were honest, he had to admit, it wasn’t only Eli, it was Ariel. He’d grown close to the girl, and knew that she needed Eli.
Maybe his words would make a difference.
THAT FRIDAY, ELI BUSTLED around the classroom, setting up for the day’s panel discussion. Three of her former teen-parenting students were coming in to talk to the current students and serve as role models. Mentors.
Tucker had agreed to participate, although it took a lot of arm-twisting and laying on the guilt.
She was the first one to show up. “I’m here. I even put on semi-grown-up clothes, and you know how I hate that.”
Rather than her normal paint-splattered jeans and T-shirt, she had on a pair of dark brown slacks and a navy sweater. She’d taken her hair out of its quintessential ponytail and soft curls framed her face.
Sometimes Eli forgot how beautiful Tucker was.
“Tucker, it’s time like these that I know you care.”
Tucker missed the teasing in Eli’s voice and simply nodded. “And I even put on makeup. Not a lot, but some. I hate that, too.”
Eli laughed. “You’re a good friend.”
Tucker laughed as well. “Yes, I am. Still, you’re going to have to make it up to me. Maybe we should go out to dinner and a show on Saturday.”
Eli was about to say yes, when she remembered she’d agreed to go out with Zac. “Maybe Sunday?” she countered.
Tucker plopped into one of the chairs Eli had set up at the front of the room. “Come here and sit. What’s up on Saturday? You have a look, Eli.”
Eli ignored Tucker’s invitation to sit and went to her desk instead. She knew why she was reluctant to tell Tucker. If she said the words, it would make the date real. Instead, she simply replied, “Nothing’s up. I just have plans.”
“What kind of plans? Plans that center around a certain grocery store owner?”
Eli busied herself with a stack of papers, trying to ignore Tucker’s question.
Tucker, however, was a force of nature—impossible to ignore. She sprang out of the chair and hurried next to Eli at the desk, putting herself directly in Eli’s line of sight. “A date? You finally broke down and are going on a date with him?”
“It’s Christmas shopping.” She took the pile of papers and moved it to her file cabinet. “And maybe dinner.”
Tucker followed her. “That sounds like a date.”
“Don’t get too excited.” She dumped the papers into an empty file at the front of the drawer because she had no idea what they were and where they actually belonged, and this way, later, she could find them easily.
She practically tripped over Tucker, who was directly behind her. “Seriously, Tuck, it’s nothing major.”
“I like him a lot more than I liked Arthur. Of course, you know that’s not saying much, so let’s say that I really like Zac, and I like who you are when you’re with him.”
Eli wanted to ask what Tucker meant by that last line, but didn’t because she also wasn’t sure she wanted to hear what Tucker had to say. “Arthur and I were compatible, though. Zac and I? There are a lot of strikes against us.”
“Like what?” Tucker took her by the hand, led her to the chairs, sat in one and gently pulled Eli into the other. “Tell me.”
It took Eli a moment to remember her own arguments. “His age…my age.”
“Huh?”
“He’s younger. And I’m pregnant…let’s not forget that. Pregnant with another man’s child. Those are two big hurdles.”
Tucker shrugged. “I still think he’s better than Arthur. And if Arthur’s an example of compatible, then maybe it’s time to think about something different.”
They didn’t get any further with the discussion since Greg and Deborah, her former students, came in. Hugs were exchanged and they all caught up for a few moments.
Eli didn’t miss the fact that Tucker was giving her a look. And she knew what it was saying. Coward. Tucker thought Eli was simply avoiding getting hurt with all her excuses about Zac.
And maybe she was, but that wasn’t necessarily cowardly, it was being careful.
The students arrived on the heels of her guests, and after the obligatory minutes of shuffling and settling in, Eli started.
“As I told you yesterday, we’re going to hear from guest speakers today. They’ll each take turns telling you a bit about their experience as teen parents, and what they’re doing now. When they’re done, they’ll take questions from you. We’ll start with Angelina Tucker.” Tucker grimaced as Eli used her first name. “She’s the reason this program exists today. It was almost sixteen years ago that Tucker came to me for help when she found out that she was pregnant. There were no programs in the district to assist girls in her situation and—”
Tucker interrupted Eli’s introduction. “And you all know Ms. Cartwright. When she found out there was nothing out there to help me, she just helped me herself.”
The girls all laughed.
Eli continued. “Today, Ms. Tucker’s a successful graphic artist. She specializes in motorcycles, and there are people all over the country who want a bike that Tucker’s worked on. Tucker, why don’t you take it from here?”
“Hi, everyone. Let’s just forget that Ms. Cartwright mentioned my first name. I’m Tucker. Not Ms. Tucker, Miss Tucker, or Mrs. Tucker. Just Tucker. And before someone raises their hand to tell me you have to call me something formal, I’ll save you the effort, I’m not a teacher, so you don’t.”
The girls all laughed, and Eli smiled. She’d had Tucker come in for years, and it always went this way. Tucker had an instant connection with the girls that stemmed from the fact she was genuine. There was no artifice in her, and the girls responded to that.
“And it doesn’t seem like that long ago I was a student here. A pregnant student. My boyfriend wanted nothing to do with a baby, and he’d made that perfectly clear. My mother was dead, I didn’t have any aunts or sister, so I came to Ms. Cartwright. She came with me when I told me father. I figured he’d do me in, but my dad, well, he was great. He’s been my son’s father figure. But he didn’t know much about pregnancy or babies. It was Ms. Cartwright who got me prepared, who came with me to childbirth classes….”
Eli could feel her cheeks warming as Tucker continued on her Eli-fest. She didn’t know how to stop it. Tucker made it all sound so much more than it was. She hadn’t done anything special. She’d just helped a student. That was her job.
She glanced at Ariel in the back row. She’d purposely avoided Eli ever since Eli had announced her pregnancy. She didn’t know what to do about Ariel. Maybe there was nothing she could do. Maybe she shouldn’t even try.
She was Ariel’s teacher. She’d done her job—was doing her job. That she’d somehow failed to live up to Ariel’s expectations wasn’t her fault.
Tucker finished and Eli got up and introduced Greg Warton, a local disc jockey who’d been her first teen dad through the program. “Okay, I know you all know this, but teen parents aren’t just teen moms. My girlfriend and I…”
There were currently no boys in the program, despite the fact Eli actively recruited. Maybe if she found a male teacher…
She introduced their third panelist, Julie, and when she finished, Eli said, “I’m sure you all have questions. Please raise your hands and remember to be polite.”
Forty-five minutes later, the class ended. She ushered the kids out and thanked all her panelists.
Tucker was the last to leave. “You okay?”
“Sure.”
“So, you’ll call after your date with Zac and we’ll go out on Sunday
?”
“I wish you wouldn’t call it that.” Date. She knew she’d agreed, but the word weighed heavily on her.
“Is that what he’s calling it?” Tucker persisted.
She remembered his kiss and nodded.
“Then maybe you should get used to calling it that, too.” Tucker paused and said, “Date. Date. Date. Come on, Eli. You can do it.”
“Date.” She tried to sound put out, but with Tucker standing there grinning at her, it was impossible. She suspected she even had a hint of a smile on her face. “Date. I’ve said it. Are you happy?”
“Getting happier,” Tucker admitted. “So, what are you going to wear?”
“Oh, man, you know things are bad when Angelina Tucker starts asking me about my wardrobe. To answer your question, I’m going to wear whatever fits.”
“That bad?”
Eli lifted her top and revealed the rubber band that connected her pants button to the button hole. It was a stopgap measure at best. “I think it’s time to admit that I need maternity clothes.”
“Well, we could go shopping.” Tucker’s offer was made with obvious reluctance. “I remember I had this great teacher who took me out and helped me buy a few necessities when I no longer fit in my clothes.”
“And I remember I had this student who decided maternity clothes were horrible and spent the last five months of her pregnancy wearing sweatpants and her father’s flannel shirts and T-shirts.”
“I bet I could borrow some of his stuff for you, too. Although, they might not be the most professional outfits for a teacher.”
“Thanks. And thank your dad, even though he didn’t make the offer. But I’ll probably have to break down and buy some maternity clothes soon.”
“Okay, so call me and we’ll skip the movie and just do the maternity store and lunch.”
“Shopping for clothes is your idea of torture.”