by L. G. Davis
“Thank God,” I whisper. Of course, she’d be in the garden. Why had I not thought to look there first? And why was it that the first thing that came to my mind was that something had happened to her?
She’s on her knees in front of a rose bush, wearing a pair of beige shorts, and a white blouse. A white straw hat with a blue ribbon covers her silver hair, and gardening gloves protect her hands.
I return downstairs and open the glass doors leading to the garden.
Startled, Ruth turns to look in my direction.
“Look what the cat dragged in.” She lifts herself off the ground with difficulty. She doesn’t seem to care that I let myself in.
Walking toward me, she removes her gardening gloves. A single, white feather falls to the ground in front of her. She steps over it. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I rang the bell.”
“No need to apologize. We’re neighbors. Use that key whenever you need to. I get carried away when I’m with my roses, and my hearing isn’t the best these days.” She slips her frail, leathery hand into mine and drops the gardening gloves onto a metal garden table. “Let’s go inside. I have some apple pie and fresh lemonade. I was going to bring it to ... your place later.”
She’s so thankful for the groceries that she gives me a hug—the first in our short relationship. When she insists on giving me the money back, I refuse.
At the kitchen table, I accept her lemonade and apple pie.
Ruth sits on the other side of the table and watches me. “Are you okay? You’ve been looking troubled lately. Is everything all right with the baby?”
I haven’t had the nerve to tell her about Jared being gone. But she probably knows already.
I place a hand on my stomach and shake my head. “The baby is doing great. It’s just a lot of other things going on in my life right now.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing, really.” I take a sip of lemonade. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems.”
“It helps to let it out sometimes. Maybe I can help.”
I’m quiet for a long time, prodding my apple pie with my fork. I pick up a piece and bring it to my mouth. Ruth watches me chewing in silence.
It’s driving me crazy not to be able to confide in anyone. From what I’ve seen so far, Ruth doesn’t seem to hang out with the gossiping crowd. Maybe I could tell her just enough to make myself feel better, not everything. Nothing about my past.
“I’m having problems in my marriage.” I rub my temple. “Jared—he thinks I cheated on him.”
“I wasn’t going to mention it to you, but I heard the rumors. Doris has been running her mouth again.”
“Of course, she has.” I’m sure she has a lot of eyes and ears in this town.
“Word is you had an affair with Father Travis Jenkins’s son.”
“Those stupid rumors have been going around for a while.” I look her straight in the eye. “Ruth, I never cheated on Jared. Ralph and I are just colleagues and friends. There’s nothing more between us.” I’m desperate for someone to believe me.
“But your husband doesn’t believe you?”
Even though I haven’t cheated on my husband, I hang my head in shame. “He’s gone. He won’t answer my calls.”
Ruth studies the roses on the table. The fact that she doesn’t respond to that tells me she already knew.
“You don’t believe the rumors, do you?”
“Should I?” Her gaze returns to me. Something has shifted in her eyes. The smile is gone. “I like you, Caitlin. I didn’t think I would, but I was wrong.” She pauses. “But the truth is, I don’t really know you. You don’t say much about yourself.”
What’s going on? Why is she suddenly suspicious of me? “I ... I just don’t like talking about myself.”
“And I respect that. Unfortunately, I haven’t been friends with you long enough to know if you are the kind of woman who would be unfaithful to her husband.”
“I thought we were friends.”
“I thought so, too.” Ruth pulls my unfinished plate of pie toward her. “But friends don’t lie to each other.” The strand of beard on the side of her chin trembles.
“What are you saying?” My mind is reeling with all kinds of questions. This doesn’t make sense. She was so nice before. She gave me a hug.
“I gave you a chance to tell me the truth. You didn’t.” She gets up from the table and takes my plate to the kitchen counter. “I’m good at telling when someone is hiding something.”
Feeling as if I’ve been slapped in the face, I push back my chair and rise to my feet. “I have to go.”
“I think that’s a good idea.” She pauses. “Take your groceries with you. I can buy my own food.”
Hurt, I grab the bag and leave in a hurry.
In the safety of my home, I collapse against the closed door. Ruth knows something. I have to stay away from her. I have to keep my distance from everyone.
CHAPTER 37
It’s midnight, and I’m in the living room, too tired to go upstairs to bed. I feel as though I’ve been run over by a truck, but I didn’t really do much today.
I took the last two days off as I couldn’t deal with all the stares and whispers. And Lilliana’s presence in the school suffocates me, even when she’s not in the same room.
The only thing I did today was go to Dr. Fern to request a paternity test.
At first, she’d peered at me in an awkward way, as though judging me, but then her face cleared, and she gave me my wish. She took the samples she needed from me and I handed her Jared’s hairbrush to remove some strands.
The results will be ready within a week.
After what had happened at Ruth’s house, I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t just let everyone believe I cheated on my husband. I hope that when Jared finds out that he’s the father, he will come back home.
But truthfully, I don’t know if we’ll be able to get past this. As long as I’m working at Silver Oak, he’ll continue to be uncomfortable with me working close to Ralph. There’s no way I’ll give up my job as it would be too risky to find another.
I don’t even know if I’ll still have a job after my maternity leave, considering that Lilliana is not even making it a secret that she wants me out. What if she uses my time away to her advantage and finds a way to convince Georgia to let me go? She could use the rumors as ammunition. But I can’t think about that now.
Dr. Fern had warned that my blood pressure was slightly high, and I have to take it easy.
Thankfully, days have gone by, and my tormentor hasn’t knocked me off my feet again.
With the heavy curtains closed, the darkness around me is so thick I feel as though I could reach out to touch it. I breathe it in and lean my head back, one hand on my stomach. The baby moves at the place where my palm is resting. It dawns on me that even though I feel so alone, I’m really not. My baby is always with me.
My eyes fly open when I hear a sound. I think it’s coming from the front door. Someone is out there. Are they trying to get in?
Instead of sitting there waiting for whoever it is on the other side to walk in and harm me, I push myself off the couch and tiptoe upstairs. I lock myself inside my bedroom, then allow myself to freak out, a sour taste in my mouth.
I sit on my bed, holding onto the knife, ready to do whatever I have to in order to protect myself and my baby.
I strain my ears to listen to the sounds from downstairs. Even from upstairs, I can hear the door being unlocked.
It’s a struggle to keep calm. The baby kicks me hard in the ribs, and I rub the spot.
As the sounds downstairs get louder, I move to the windows and throw them open. My gaze lands on Ruth’s house. I wish I could call her for help, but I can’t. She’s back to being the woman I’ve known for years—a bitter old lady. Our brief friendship has completely dissolved since the conversation about my rumored infidelity. Yesterday, I went over to her house to beg her not to believe
the rumors. She didn’t open the door, even though I knew she was home, having seen her staring out the window only minutes before I went there.
The wind blows my hair in all directions as I lean out to assess the height from my bedroom window to the ground. Even if I weren’t pregnant, jumping out the window would have been dangerous.
I whirl around when I hear footfalls pounding up the stairs. From the nightstand, I grab a hammer I’d put there as an additional weapon. I wait with bated breath as the footsteps approach the door and then halt.
Blood rushes to my head, making me dizzy. I don’t care if my body lets me down, but I refuse to go down without a fight.
With the knife in one hand and the hammer in the other, I switch off the bedside lamp and move to one side of the door. I push my back against the wall, ready to strike the intruder as soon as they enter the room.
The door handle is pushed down, but when the door doesn’t open, it’s released again.
I’m breathing so hard now I’m afraid the person on the other side will hear me.
“Caitlin, open the door. It’s me.”
My body slumps with relief. I flick on the light.
It’s Jared. It’s my husband.
“I’m coming.” Tears of relief well up in my eyes. I place the hammer and knife inside the dresser drawer and yank the door open. Overcome with joy, I throw myself into Jared’s arms. “Thank God.” My tears soak his shirt. “Thank God it’s you.” He doesn’t push me away, not immediately. When he finally does, his bloodshot eyes search my face. “Who else could it be?” He pushes a hand through his unruly hair. He looks like he hasn’t slept or had a shower in days.
“I thought someone broke into the house. I—”
“I heard your message. When do you get the test results?”
I stumble back and wrap my arms around myself. For a moment there, I thought he came back for me. I was wrong. He’s still giving me the kind of look he normally gives strangers. Nothing has changed.
“In a week. The samples were sent to a lab out of town.” I try to reach for him again, desperate to get him back. “Thank you. Thank you for coming home.”
He shrinks away from my touch and steps around me to get to the drawer that holds our bed linen. Then he picks up a pillow from the bed as he’d done a few days ago. “I’ll be sleeping downstairs.” He walks out, swaying slightly.
I go after him, moving as fast as my legs would let me, which isn’t fast at all.
When I get to the living room, I find him covering up the couch with the sheets.
He doesn’t even turn to look at me. Have I lost him completely? My body remembers the feel of his arms around me only a few minutes ago. He had held me for a moment before letting go. It can’t be over. He wouldn’t be here if it were.
“Why are you here if you don’t want to be?” Anger boils in the pit of my stomach. “It’s clear to me that you’ve given up on our marriage. What are your plans, huh? If the baby is yours, which it is, are you going to take her away from me, is that it?” I never planned on referring to the baby as a girl. It just came out.
Jared glances at me for a second. His face doesn’t give his thoughts away, though. I can only guess what he’s thinking. Maybe he thinks I found out the sex of the baby, that we’re getting a daughter. Maybe he’s happy but doesn’t want it to show.
He pulls his wrinkled shirt over his head and drops onto the couch, acting as if I’m not even in the room.
A sob rises to my throat as I walk away. My face burns with tears with each step up the stairs.
In the bedroom, I climb into bed, switch off the light, and place my hands on my baby for comfort.
I’m just about to drift off to sleep when I hear a creaking noise, followed by the door being opened. I pull myself up in bed.
From the slice of moonlight coming in through the window, I see that it’s Jared, and he’s approaching our bed. Maybe he’s ready to talk.
I switch on the light and wait for him to start the conversation. When he doesn’t speak, I lie myself down again and pull the sheets up to my neck.
To my surprise, he lies down next to me, but doesn’t pull me close as he used to. Unable to handle any more rejection, I don’t reach out, either. I’m afraid to have him only to lose him again.
My heart almost bursts with pent-up emotions when, after what feels like an eternity, he slings an arm around my stomach and shifts closer. “You really didn’t have an affair?”
“No,” I whisper. “I didn’t have an affair. I swear. The results will prove that.”
In a week, it will all be over. We’ll get back to the place we were before everything went to hell. Or will we? What if my worst nightmare isn’t over yet? The truth remains that someone in this town knows I’m not who I claim to be. If I don’t tell Jared the truth, he might hear it from someone else. If I open up to him, maybe, just maybe, he’ll be on my side. Or tonight will be the last night I’ll be in his arms.
“Jared, I need to tell you something.” As soon as the words leave my lips, I wish I could swallow them down again.
What can I tell him? That I left a man—the first husband I never told him about—dead in a hotel room? That I’m a fugitive? That I might be a murderer? I’ll be fooling myself if I think he’ll ever look at me the same way again.
“What?” he croaks. “What do you want to tell me?”
“Just that I love you so much. And I never want to lose us.”
CHAPTER 38
I look across the waiting room. Pregnant women are everywhere, all in their own private thoughts. Some are with partners, and others are alone. Most are reading glossy magazines with faces of smiling babies splashed across their covers. One woman is on the phone even though a small sign on the wall forbids phone calls in the waiting room.
The room smells of baby powder, or I could be imagining it. I don’t trust my mind much these days.
I glance at Jared, and nervous butterflies erupt in my belly. I have no reason to be nervous since the baby is his, but I am.
Jared tosses the magazine he was flipping through into a basket and leans back in his seat, eyes closed.
I reach for his hand. The moment my skin touches his, he moves away. I force myself to sympathize with him. In his shoes, I would probably be a wreck, as well. The truth will come out soon enough, and everything will be all right again.
I clasp my hands in my lap and occupy myself with studying the faces in the room. Are these people happy? What kinds of secrets are they hiding? I can’t imagine any of them going through what I’m going through.
“I need the bathroom,” I whisper to Jared and rise. Hopefully, a short walk will get rid of some of my nervous energy.
Instead of responding, Jared reaches into the basket for a cooking magazine.
I carry the ache in my heart all the way to a bathroom cubicle, where I lock the door and rest my forehead on it. I beg each breath I take to bring me relief. The ache refuses to be ignored.
The results of the paternity test don’t worry me. I’m worried about what will happen once we get the results and return to our lives. Will everything return to normal? What if my tormenter attacks me from another angle?
After this hurdle, how many more will we have to overcome? How much more torture can I go through before I break? It’s so exhausting running from the past.
A sound from outside the door yanks me from my thoughts. Someone is calling my name.
“Caitlin, we’re called in.” Jared’s muffled voice is stiff with tension.
“I’ll be right out.” I push away from the door.
I don’t find Jared outside. He’s already in the doctor’s office when I arrive.
Dr. Fern steps around her desk and comes to shake my hand. Her handshake is brief and not as firm and warm as the first time I shook her hand. “Caitlin, nice to see you again. I hope you and the baby are doing well.” She’s all business. No smile in sight; no glint in her eyes.
The residents of Faypi
ne have pulled her to their side. She’s judging me just like everyone else.
“Baby is fine ... I think.” I drop my lashes to hide the hurt reflected in my eyes and place a hand protectively over my belly.
She waves at the empty chair next to Jared. “Please, take a seat.”
As I lower myself into the chair, Jared doesn’t turn to look at me. His focus is on Dr. Fern, who has returned to the other side of the desk.
“I have the results. Ready to hear them?”
“We are.” I raise my chin to show my confidence.
“Would you like to read them yourself?” Dr. Fern looks from me to Jared.
“No, do it for us, doctor,” Jared answers for both of us.
“Caitlin?” The doctor raises an eyebrow at me.
“Yes.” I shrug. “Please open it.”
Dr. Fern sighs and opens the envelope. She flattens it out on the desk.
A shadow flits across her features. Her mouth falls open.
“What’s going on, doctor?” I can feel my mouth going dry.
“I’m sorry, Caitlin.” A line appears between her eyebrows. “I—”
“Am I the father or not?” Jared asks when Dr. Fern hesitates for too long.
She clears her throat. “It says here that ninety-nine—”
“Skip the numbers. Give me a yes or no answer.”
Dr. Fern draws in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry. You are not the father of the baby.”
Shock slaps me hard in the face. I yank the piece of paper from Dr. Fern’s hands. “It can’t be.” My frantic gaze sweeps across the page. “There has to be some kind of mistake.”
“It’s unlikely.” Dr. Fern leans back in her desk chair. “It’s all there in black and white.”
I choke back a cry. The page drops onto my lap. I turn to look at Jared. I can feel the heat of his rage without even seeing his eyes. He looks like a volcano about to erupt.
“It’s not ... Jared, it’s not true. You have to believe me.”
“You promised the results will prove everything. I guess they just did.” He shoves his hair back with his hands, holds it in place, then releases.