She fidgeted in her seat, torn, knowing that once she went there, there was no going back.
After grabbing a cup of coffee, he came back into the living room. She smiled and watched as he forced a smile back, which was painful to see.
"How about I order?" he said.
"Sure." She kept the smile plastered to her face. "Nothing spicy for me. I'll have the shrimp and Chinese vegetables."
Michael pulled out his phone and placed the order for delivery. "So, what's up?" he asked, putting his phone away, looking at her expectantly. "What's the news?"
"I'm pregnant, Michael," she blurted. "I just confirmed it today. This morning, actually."
"What?" he said, after a pause. "But...we're on the pill."
She hesitated. "Yes, but...you know the pill's not a hundred percent, and," her eyes widened, "we're pregnant."
Michael stared at her. He leaned forward on the sofa, resting his elbows on his knees, as if he expected her to say something more.
"Well," she half-laughed, "say something. Are you happy about it? It's not like we didn't ever expect to have kids."
"I..." He closed his mouth, looking her over very closely.
Uh oh, thought Amber. He knows I'm lying. "Well? You what?" she demanded, taking the offensive.
"I'm just...the timing. I mean you just had your period last week, Am. How can you be pregnant?"
"Well, um..." Amber cleared her throat. Maybe she hadn't thought this through well enough after all. "You know women can still get their period in the first trimester, Michael, right? That's why a lot of us don't even realize we're pregnant sometimes." Salvage, she thought. You can fix this. "Anyway, I took a test over at my mother's this morning and it was positive."
"Okay," he said frowning, "but if you just had your period, what made you suspect you might be pregnant? Did you know when we were in Arizona?"
"No! I mean, well...I suspected it then, because I felt queasy. I didn't want to bother you with it, but my breasts were a little sore...and...and I just felt nauseous. Not like myself, you know?
"Anyway, I'll be making an appointment with an OB...Elaine's. She's supposed to text me the number." She hesitated. "You know, I'm not feeling a whole lot of support here, Michael. We're going to have a baby and you look like I've just punched you in the gut or something."
Or something.
Michael just sat there staring at her, a strange, glassy look in his eyes. Finally, he shook his head. "I'm sorry but I'm just very surprised. Shocked, actually. It's the last thing I would've expected right now."
"I know," she replied. "I know. But we can embrace this, can't we? We'll be such awesome parents! We could start looking for a bigger place, maybe move down to Lincoln Beach and—"
"Amber, whoa. Obviously, I'm gonna need a minute to digest this, okay? Wow."
"Okay...but I'm very happy about it. I just know this is a good thing for us. I know it is. It takes us right into the next phase of our life together."
Suddenly, he got up, left her there and went into the bedroom. After a few minutes, she heard the shower running.
Shit, she thought. This won't work if he doubts me. What if he asks for proof? And won't he want to attend my first doctor visit?
Shit.
While she sat at the desk wringing her hands, trying to calm her anxiety over what she'd just done, their food arrived. Later, Amber would have very little recollection of the fact that she had gotten her wallet out, paid and even tipped the driver as he'd handed her the food.
The whole rest of the evening went by in a blur. Michael had his Kung Pao in front of the television, watching SportsCenter, while she ate at the desk, trying but failing to get started on her next assignment. She finally just gave up, which meant she'd have to do a rush job on it in the morning.
Finding it almost impossible to swallow much, Amber threw most of the shrimp and vegetables away before heading into the bedroom to take a shower.
•~•
When she got out, she went outside on the balcony to call her mother, but her phone buzzed just as she was sliding the door closed behind her. Looking at the screen, she saw that it was her cousin. "Hey, Elaine," she answered quietly, trying to keep her voice calm even though her stomach was in knots.
"Hey," her cousin said, "is it a good time? I just wanted to check in and see how things were going."
Amber knew she could trust Elaine with her life, but now that she was in the thick of this scheme, she was embarrassed to talk about it. "I think you were right," she admitted. "This might've been a good idea in theory, but—"
"Okay, wait—just tell me what happened."
Amber explained Michael's reaction. "And, Elaine—I know that look. He said he needed time to digest it, but I don't think he believes me at all."
"Well, it was a harebrained idea to begin with," her cousin said, not unkindly. "And I warned you not to go there."
"Well, I went there," said Amber, "and I can't back down now—I have to get pregnant ASAP."
"Yep, it sure looks that way. But, Amber, if you don't get pregnant in the next couple weeks or so, you'll have to fake a miscarriage...or blame a faulty test strip to get out of it." Elaine paused. "But, hopefully it won't come to that."
"Oh, my God!" Amber perked up. "I was so worried about not getting pregnant right away—but you just gave me an easy out! Why didn't I think of that? Saying I had a miscarriage would be perfect. I could easily stage one when I get my next period. And there's no way he would ever be able to prove I hadn't been pregnant!"
"But, Amber. Seriously." Elaine's tone was sobering. "You're playing with fire here."
Yes, I know, she thought.
"But isn't he worth it?" she asked, looking inside the apartment where Michael was stretched out on the sofa, likely fast asleep. "We could never have with anyone else what we've had with each other."
"And no offense, Am," her cousin added, "but you know your mom's not exactly the best influence, so I'd take any more advice she doles out with a grain of salt. You don't need a prison record to match hers."
"Well, let's not get that carried away," she replied. But heeding Elaine's advice for the moment, Amber decided against calling her mother next. Instead she went back inside to wake Michael and got him to bed.
Just keep playing your role, she thought as she pulled the quilt over him. He's not going to leave...This whole mess will run its course.
• CHAPTER THIRTEEN •
There were three popular parks in the City of Mayfair. Coincidently, Violet Heights Recreational Park was not only the most secluded but also the closest one to Emerald Leas, and it had been their grandmother's favorite.
It was mid-morning and Priscilla was sitting in the shade, on her favorite park bench, tapping her pencil against her lip and feeling...absolutely nothing. Nada. Zilch.
She had agreed to complete a cover illustration for a well-known author's latest children's book and needed to have it done in the next few days.
Man, she thought, how hard is it to draw a damn unicorn in a poppy field?
Having accepted the project at the last minute, she had hoped to find quick inspiration for the piece in the outdoors. From the beautiful flowers, the chirping birds and playing children, to the gorgeous view of the white sandy beachfront, sitting in the park had always inspired her, made her feel good inside.
Even now, busy squirrels rattled in the trees overhead and fragrant flowers bloomed all over with the life and vibrancy she strived to capture. So why couldn't she turn this drab landscape into the gorgeous meadow she already saw so clearly in her mind?
Beauty, she thought. The unicorn's name is Beauty, so there's no way this can be a lackluster backdrop. Letting her head fall back for a moment, she stared up at the clouds. One of them looked like a butterfly and she studied it for a while.
Smiling, she suddenly began sketching passionately, her hand moving effortlessly over the page. The flowers came alive. Blues, purples and pinks. The horizon turned into a
nice sunset, and the unicorn stood tall. Priscilla relaxed.
"So," said Paula, petting her Great Dane, a strapping animal the Fleischman's called Chambers. "I'm glad we finally got you out of the house, Cilla, but can you at least pretend you're not alone out here?"
She looked at her friend and smiled. "Sorry. I've just got a few things on my mind...had to work through a block."
"Yeah, well, block or no block, it makes you pretty lousy company—which you know Mrs. Bauer wouldn't have stood for."
Priscilla shrugged. "That's true, can't argue with you there." She glanced up as she noticed a little girl tripping on a jump rope nearby. An older boy, maybe her brother, started teasing her. The girl got up with such fierce determination, Priscilla almost applauded, watching her take off with long strides to continue jumping elsewhere.
Smiling, Cilla turned and looked at Paula, who'd also been watching. "Spunky little thing, isn't she?"
Paula giggled. "Stop trying to change the subject."
"Sorry," she replied, bowing her head. "It's just that my life has changed so suddenly and everyone just expects you to know how to get on with it. Gran's left us with a lot of responsibilities we've never had before. And Doug is far more prepared to handle them than I am. I have a whole lot to learn and not a lot of time to learn it in, especially if I don't want to screw things up." She paused, softly underscoring her point. "It's a lot of pressure."
"Did your grandmother have a DMM? Or an accounting firm handling her finances, or did she handle everything herself?"
"No, Gran was very hands-on. That's one thing she drilled into us—sign your own checks. But we do have an accountant and I have a meeting with him next week to go over things."
"Well, that's good," said Paula.
"Yeah. I want a clear understanding of everything, so I can manage the estate myself. I don't even want to depend on Doug for anything. I never ever want to be one of those people who has to get a phone call in order to know they're broke, you know what I mean?"
"Totally, and I don't blame you; and you know I'll support you any way I can."
"I know you will," she said, reaching over to squeeze her friend's shoulder, "and it means a lot. Thank you."
"So...I sensed some tension in the air when I came by. What's up with Doug?"
"Ugh," Priscilla groaned and put down the sketchpad. "I'm so ready for Douglas to go back to France! He's on my last nerve. We were arguing about the fact that the Academy wants to throw a"—she made air quotes—"memorial celebration next month and he up and agreed to host it at the hotel!"
"We're talking about The Academy of Motion Pictures, right?"
Priscilla nodded.
"Well, what's wrong with that?" cried Paula, even startling Chambers. "It sounds fabulous!"
She shook her head. "Interviews. Events. Fuss, fuss, fuss. Exactly what Gran never wanted."
"I know that's how you feel," said Paula, "and I know you think you're trying to honor her wishes, but Priscilla..." She paused, her voice softened. "She's gone now. And there are a lot of people who loved her, too. She made some really great movies in her day, classic films that are still celebrated today. I don't see the harm in this. It should be the least of your concerns."
Whatever, Priscilla thought. You just don't understand.
"So, will you go?" Paula asked her.
"I told Douglas I wouldn't, but I think he's right—I have to. If I don't put in an appearance, it'll just feed the press cycle on her for another month."
"So...what do I have to do to get an invite?"
"I'm not sure, I'll have to find out, but I'm pretty sure you'll all be invited."
"Great!" Paula exclaimed. "And you know Stell will be over the moon!" Paula's older sister Stella was notoriously unsatisfied with simply being wealthy; she craved fame in equal measure.
Now a little annoyed, Priscilla began packing up, sticking her sketchbook and colored pencils into her carrying case. She just wanted to get home and put the final touches on the artwork. She was done trying to make her friend understand.
•~•
When she got back to Emerald Leas, Priscilla was relieved to see her grandmother's Cadillac missing from the garage. It meant Douglas had gone out.
Once inside, she put her things away and went straight into Gran's bedroom to spend some time with Chewy. He looked up expectantly as she walked in, breaking her heart all over again. He always allowed her to pick him up, going almost limp when she touched him. "Hey, boy," she said. "We're gonna go for another walk in a bit, okay?" And as she lay in the bed with Chewy, she allowed her mind to take her to the place she'd been resisting for days now—Michael Frost.
If there was one person she would love to take with her to this event, it was Michael. But the idea of calling him so soon felt awkward, and she didn't think she could stand it if he turned her down flat.
Leave it alone, Priscilla, she told herself. That ship has sailed...
• CHAPTER FOURTEEN •
A few weeks later, after putting the trip off for several days, Michael was finally at the Corvette dealership having the gas cap replaced on his Stingray. The check engine light had continued to flash whenever he filled the tank, so it had become obvious something else was wrong.
The first time he brought it in, the service manager had had to order in the part, and when they'd called to say it had come in, Michael scarcely allowed himself the time to make the trek back across town for the installation. So now as he sat in the waiting room with several other customers, flipping through a magazine, he paid little attention to the television until he heard something about the late actress Veronica Bauer.
His head snapped up and he grabbed the remote, turning the volume up on the segment. They were reporting on some kind of celebratory event set to happen in a couple of weeks.
He lowered the volume, thinking about Priscilla. She was on his mind most of the time now anyway, almost non-stop. He couldn't stop thinking about her and he had given up trying.
At home he'd been laying low, watching Amber play out this disturbing pregnancy scheme. He found it almost inconceivable that she'd actually gone there. It was a major insult to his intelligence. Of course he knew she wasn't pregnant! Amber had never been a very good liar and that obviously hadn't changed. So now every night, and even some early mornings, she was trying her best to seduce him, clearly needing to get pregnant right away.
He'd come to the conclusion that she obviously didn't know him at all if she thought she was getting away with this charade. Michael was so embarrassed for her that he hadn't even spoken with Jason about it yet. He just wouldn't feel comfortable telling anyone what was going on in his house right now.
But in the end, he knew this was the turning point—the sad closing act of what had once been a pretty strong relationship. He knew they couldn't go on this way indefinitely.
"Michael Frost?"
He looked up.
"You're all set."
•~•
He was driving home from the dealership when the text came in.
"Hey," it read. "I have an invitation 4u. Call when u can. ~ CillaB."
Oh, my God. Michael exhaled, feeling his heart soar. "Wherever you want me, baby," he said, smiling, "I'm there."
Although his fingers itched to text back immediately, he didn't want to seem overeager so decided to wait an hour. But the hour turned into fifteen minutes—he just couldn't wait. So pulling into the Walgreens about ten minutes from his house, he parked and called her cell.
He was disappointed when he got her voicemail. "Priscilla, hi, it's Michael. I'm sorry I missed you, but I hope you're doing well. I'm glad you got in touch, I've been thinking about you a lot. Call me when you get this...Talk soon. Bye."
As luck would have it, he was driving through the gate at his complex when she called back. "Hello, there," he answered, a caress in his voice.
"Hi," said Priscilla. "How are you?"
"I'm pretty good. You?"
"I'm d
oing better, thanks." She took a deep breath. "I was just reaching out to invite you to something of a party we're hosting at the hotel, in honor of my grandmother." She told him the date and time. "It'll be in the theater room. Black tie."
Without hesitation, Michael said, "I'll be there. I'm glad you thought of me."
"Well...I've been thinking about you a lot, too," she admitted after a brief silence. "It'll be really nice to see you again."
Raindrops on Roses: Book One of the Favorite Things Trilogy Page 8