A Baby Affair

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “If your mother had been willing to tell you about your dad, what questions would you have asked? What did you feel like you needed to know?” Feeling renewed energy, and a sense of reaching for a future where he was at peace, Craig gave the woman carrying his child an encouraging smile. Told himself it was just all about the baby, but he wasn’t completely buying it.

  But for the next hour, he answered her questions. At one point she asked if she could take notes.

  Eventually, long after both of their glasses of juice were empty, Amelia invited him to her kitchen where she’d put together a couple of onion, cucumber and grilled chicken wraps, with some kind of dressing she’d made out of mayonnaise, vinegar and mustard, that he could see—she’d had him out on the paved and walled room-size balcony manning the grill—and they’d sat outside with some muted lighting she’d turned on, eating dinner together. Two blocks of the city lay before them, and then, in the distance, the ocean’s vastness.

  He felt like he was on a luxurious vacation—and appreciated her ability to make home feel that way.

  And still, after the dishes were rinsed and in the washer, he accepted her invitation for an after-dinner drink—his coffee, hers decaffeinated green tea—back out on the balcony.

  He didn’t feel like he was done yet. And though he knew he should be, he continued to sit with her. To enjoy watching her as she spoke. Sitting there with her, knowing she was pregnant with his child, he had a sense of family he’d never really known with Tricia. Which made no sense to him.

  Amelia’s phone had rung a time or two—she’d let it go to voicemail, but sent a text. He wondered who she was close to, besides her sister. Who’d be calling her on a Saturday evening. Had a moment of discomfort when he considered that it could be a man who was interested in her. Just because she wasn’t looking for a partner didn’t mean she didn’t date. And he had to get home to Talley.

  “Thank you,” Amelia said to him as they sat gazing out over the city. “This was really nice. You’ve been incredibly patient and kind, answering all of these questions.”

  She sounded sated. Not just satisfied. Sated. He wondered at the distinction his mind was making.

  Felt something significant there.

  “It’s you doing me the favor,” he reminded her. “Your questions tell me a lot about you, about what mattered to you as a kid, what matters to you now, and so...what kind of parent you’ll most likely be.” She’d been looking at him, but glanced away. “Besides,” he added, “you’re easy to talk to.”

  The words brought her gaze back to him. He wanted to hold on to it.

  “You’re easy to talk to, too,” she surprised him by saying. “I’ve told you things I don’t ever talk about. About my dad. And Mike.”

  “Your ex.”

  She nodded. Glanced out again, and then back. “He was unfaithful to me,” she said. “After insisting that I be ‘all in’ with him—that I put him and our life together first, above all else—he slept with someone else.”

  Anger flared for a second, that someone would treat a decent human being, let alone Amelia, that way... He paused, reining in feelings that generally didn’t ever get out of check.

  “Sounds like the guy had self-esteem issues,” he said. What was with him that night? You’d think he’d specialized in psychology rather than just taking the requisite classes for his medical degree. “And was a first-class idiot,” he added.

  His voice had softened, and when he heard that, he knew he wasn’t just sitting there for peace of mind.

  The long look she gave him, the softening around her eyes, drew him.

  “I’m pretty sure I’ve blamed myself in about every way possible,” she slowly admitted. “Mostly, though, I hate that I didn’t know. I eventually found out, thinking, when I caught him in the act, that it was the first time, but then discovered that it had been going on for weeks. While he’d been sleeping with me.”

  Leaning on the arm of his padded wrought iron chair, he put his face closer to hers, letting the darkness soften the intimacy of the movement. “He was a fool, Amelia,” he told her, his voice low, but deadly serious. “A decent man would know what a gem he had in you, in your devotion, and he’d cherish that, protect it,” he told her.

  He had no idea why she’d been exposed to the dregs of the male gender, but needed her to know that not all men had a horrible side. That many would be worthy of her trust.

  She didn’t say anything. Just sat there, looking at him. A minute passed and then she slowly turned toward the lights bobbing on the ocean in the far distance.

  An idea occurred to him. But it was one that could lose him any ground he’d built with her. Glancing at her, he considered the wisdom of holding his counsel, leaving things to end on a good note.

  Unless...

  “Would it be awful if you and I were to remain in contact?” he proposed. “Not in any way that changes things. That child is all yours. I have no say. No rights. Period. But what if I was around, just a background figure who could look out for her health and happiness? What if she knows me just as a casual friend of yours? Someone you all see once in a while. Someone who, if the need ever arose, would be there to help in a time of crisis, someone he or she knows and can trust?”

  His feet slid into place to stand as he voiced the question in its various forms. He was braced to stand. To follow the instructions he was sure would follow: to leave her home and not contact her any time soon.

  When she said nothing, he remained braced.

  “Do you have a bike?” he asked, many silent seconds later, just to fill the silence.

  “What?” She turned to look at him, frowning, as though she’d just joined their little gathering.

  As though she’d been deep in thought? He’d give his small fortune to know what she’d been thinking.

  “A bike? Do you own a bike?”

  “I used to. Not anymore.”

  “Biking is a good, low-impact exercise,” he dropped into the night.

  “Okaayyy.”

  “I’ve still got Tricia’s bike...”

  He was walking a tightrope, not sure where it led. Not sure it wouldn’t be better if he just fell off and was done.

  He didn’t want that to happen.

  “I could pick you up tomorrow, say around two, and we could go for a quick easy ride on Ellory Road.”

  The quiet, mostly flat, gently curving two-mile stretch wound through an upscale neighborhood with homes that all sat on at least an acre of grassy and wooded lots. Because it was zoned residential, the speed limit was slow. And the traffic was minimal.

  “I haven’t agreed to your suggestion that we stay in contact.”

  “You haven’t disagreed.” He had to point it out.

  “I know.”

  He glanced at her and found her looking at him.

  “Why not?” he asked, thinking they might be crossing into new territory. Into a place where they might be more than casual acquaintances.

  And then he remembered her adamant desire to remain single; he wasn’t going to change her mind on that one. Knew that it wasn’t even right of him to try—all baby considerations aside. Just as he knew that he wasn’t going to change his mind about wanting to get married and stay that way for the rest of his life.

  “Because I’m afraid that no matter how I feel, it might be best for my baby if you are a casual acquaintance in his or her life,” she said.

  And his heart skidded to a halt.

  Chapter Nine

  What in the hell was she thinking, making that statement to Craig about having him be an acquaintance in her baby’s life? She wasn’t thinking.

  Meeting her sister for breakfast the next morning at an upscale bagel shop down by the mostly private stretch of beach in town, Amelia straightened her shoulders and went inside.

  Angie had already ordere
d and had their bagels and tea at a high-top table for two by the window. Noting her sister’s black leggings, long fluted white blouse, makeup and matching black-and-white earrings in all three piercings, she took a deep breath. Angie always dressed more formally when she was upset. Like the clothes gave her strength. And maybe they did, if they made her feel better about herself.

  She knew she should have called Angie back the night before, rather than just texting to set up a breakfast meet, but Craig had been sitting there, he’d touched her stomach, taken her pulse, warmed her from the inside out. She’d needed time to collect her thoughts.

  And it had been after nine when Craig had left and she hadn’t wanted the questions that would come from her sister if she’d called that late. Better for Angie to think she’d gone to bed early to catch up on the sleep she’d missed that week with the intercontinental travel.

  Pregnancy required more sleep, too.

  Leaning over to kiss her sister’s cheek, and to receive Angie’s return greeting, Amelia stepped up to take a seat on her stool.

  “I saw Craig Harmon,” she said, putting it right out there. Honesty was the only way to even have a chance of winning back the deep level of trust Angie had once had in her.

  Her sister’s sudden ashen face broke her heart a little more. Nerves that had already been iffy started to tense and create churning inside as she considered what might come.

  Before Angie could say anything, if she’d even been going to say anything, Amelia told her sister about her sperm donor’s visit. About his desire to marry. His understanding of and respect for her own personal choice to remain single.

  She told Angie about the man’s honest need for peace of mind, where his sperm donation was concerned, waiting for Angie’s compassion to take over from whatever insecurities she might be feeling.

  “He doesn’t want any control over this baby,” she told her sister, who’d yet to touch her tea or bagel. Or say a word. “He just needs to know that it’s okay.”

  More than just okay, but in the moment, the word sufficed.

  “You like him.” Angie’s words fell like rocks on her chest.

  “No, sweetie, I don’t.” She might have, pre-Mike. Who was she kidding? She could see her old self swooning if the doctor had asked her out. He was gorgeous. And, even better, not afraid to talk about feelings. “I can’t,” she told her. “Those impulsive feelings...they’re dead to me.” She hadn’t realized fully until the night before when, though she found Craig Harmon as hot as they came, she hadn’t been tempted to throw caution to the wind and ask him to bed. Which was what she’d done when she first met Mike.

  “I learned my lesson, Angie. I know myself, and it’s like the knowing brought with it an internal safety net. I think about being in a relationship and I just shut down. I truly don’t want it.”

  No more living with the constant worry of having to please. No more putting her happiness in the control of one person. Or giving up self to make someone else happy. Or having the light in her life suddenly change hue and not be alight at all.

  Studying her, Angie picked up her bagel. Took a bite. Seemed to see what she needed to find in Amelia’s gaze as she chewed and then nodded.

  “It would be easier for me to accept this if you’d told me ahead of time that you were going to see him,” she mentioned as she took another bite of bagel.

  Not really hungry, but knowing she needed her energy, especially in light of the afternoon activity she had planned, Amelia followed suit. She ate half her bagel before she said anything more.

  “You’re right.” She finally acknowledged what she’d known from the beginning. “But I knew what you’d think, Angie, and I had to prove to you that you were wrong. I had to see him and be okay so you’d know that I am.”

  Reaching for Amelia’s hand, Angie gave it a squeeze. “You know that I don’t think you fall for the first guy who gives you a second look, right?”

  “Of course I do. In the first place, I’d be falling all over the place,” she joked.

  “But this guy...he’s not just some guy,” Angie said. “I can tell you’re attached to him already, Mel. And that is something you could lose yourself over.”

  She didn’t say a word.

  Couldn’t.

  Because she’d come to her sister to discuss the idea of maintaining contact with Craig, on a peripheral level. She needed Angie’s unbiased opinion on the matter.

  And had a feeling Angie wasn’t capable of giving it to her.

  They had their issues.

  “That’s the only reason I got scared. And because you kept it from me, like there was something to hide...” She held up a hand when Amelia started to speak. “I know. I understand why you saw him first. I’m not saying it was the wrong thing to do, only explaining why I—”

  “I know,” Amelia said, understanding and agreeing all in the same two words.

  Amelia wasn’t going to live her life to please others. And yet, was she doing just that with Angie? She had to do what she thought was right. And if Angie was ever going to be able to trust her implicitly again, she had to be honest with her. But not at the expense of her own life.

  She turned the talk to business for a few minutes. One of their most expensive embossers had gone down at the factory the night before. It was back up and running, but they’d lost an hour of production time. She was the partner on call that weekend. They discussed adjustments they could make to the schedule, putting a bigger run on hold and moving up a critical, smaller job, and while Angie finished her bagel, Amelia put a call in to the production manager who was at the factory that morning, giving the order to make the change.

  “I had an email from Hermine,” Angie said, mentioning the male designer she’d met with that past week. He had a new line that he thought would be made perfect with Feel Good embellishments, and if the paperwork looked as good as the man made his offer sound, they’d be signing with him.

  “He sent the contract?” she asked.

  “No, although he said his lawyer will have it to Tanya early in the week. He was writing to offer me a job. I did a couple of drawings when I met with him, made some small changes to a couple of his designs, and he thinks I’d make a great addition to his team.” Angie’s tone was light. She was smiling.

  And still, Amelia’s entire being constricted. “Is it something you want to consider?” she had to ask. And was afraid to ask. She didn’t want Angie to go. But knew she had to support her sister if that was what she really wanted.

  Just as Angie was supporting her.

  “Of course not!” Angie looked her straight in the eye. “You know that Feel Good, you and me, family, mean everything to me. Besides, I’d have to move to New York and there’s no way I want be that far away from mom. Or the girls,” she added, referring to her friends.

  Relieved beyond words that Angie was as happy where she was as Amelia had assumed, she still needed to be sure. “What about the work, Angie? You’ve always loved the artistic part of what we do most. Would you like to spend all your time working on designs, rather than like it is now, with both of us spending far more time on the business end?”

  Of course, if Angie would be okay with expanding Feel Good, of taking a chance and bringing on more top people to handle the business end of things, they could both spend more time designing. And then be able to produce more products to sell, too.

  “I do love designing,” Angie said, pausing for a second with a smile on her face. “But truthfully, I love being in charge, too.” Her little sister’s grin was all sass then, and Amelia chuckled.

  They both liked being in charge. She figured they came by that honestly, having grown up feeling as though they had control over nothing.

  “So...tell me about Craig Harmon. Do you feel good about his genetic contribution to our little one there?” Angie sobered, sitting back with her teacup in hand.
Her sister’s more classically beautiful face was unlined, her gaze clear and caring as she met Amelia’s gaze.

  She wanted to be as open and free to talk to Angie as her younger sister needed her to be. And she hesitated, on edge, nerves clamoring in every part of her body.

  If she said too much, Angie might think she really liked the guy. Which she did. But on a casual basis only, which her sister wasn’t likely to believe.

  And if she didn’t say enough, Angie would think she was holding back.

  Having a sibling as close as she and Angie were was a godsend. By far the absolute best blessing in her life.

  And it was hard, too, having someone know you well enough to be able to complete your thoughts for you.

  And then stand in judgment on them if she thought you were going to hurt herself.

  “I feel as good about his genetic contribution now as I did when I chose him,” she said, searching for total honesty, if not a full disclosure that could easily be misconstrued. “He seems like a decent guy from a decent family. Middle of the line, you know. Not obsessed about anything, like totally into any one thing, and yet proficient at many things. They’re educated, of course, but we already knew that, or knew that he was at least. They have good teeth, no major illnesses in the family and no mental illnesses of which he was aware.”

  “Does he have siblings?”

  “No.”

  “Does he seem close with his parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Does he like pets?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has he ever been married?”

  “No.”

  When Angie’s lower lip pushed outward, Amelia’s spirits shot down to the floor. She knew that look.

  “You asked him about his marital status?”

  “Yes. If he had a wife, she would have been involved in the conversation.” No, that wasn’t quite how it had gone. He’d said if she had a husband he should be involved in the conversation. “Or maybe he just told me,” she added, feeling as though she was floundering now in a dark mass of seaweed.