The car swerved a little. “Sorry. I thought I saw a pothole. I think Annie mentioned that place at the wedding reception when we were talking about Tom Foster.
“She did. I nearly choked on my champagne.”
“Really? The same place, huh? What a coincidence.”
“Anyway, Nick suggested buying my sperm back.”
“Did they pay you for it?”
“I couldn’t take money for something like that. I told them to use whatever they were supposed to give me to help some infertile couple. But they have to do a lot of expensive pre-testing to qualify a donor, so I can’t expect them to just give my sperm back without paying for the tests.”
“I suppose not.”
“I think I am gonna tell them I changed my mind, though. I had to be crazy to make such an impulsive decision while I was so bummed out about Marc.”
“What if they’ve already had a request for your semen?”
“It’s been less than six months. I can’t imagine they get very many couples looking for a Latino donor.”
“You never know.” Trisha shrugged. “Stranger things have happened.”
He heaved a sigh. “If that’s the case, then I guess I’ll have to resign myself to a life wondering if I have a child out there.”
“Yeah,” she said in distracted tone. “I guess so.”
“There’s a gas station.” He pointed ahead to the side of the road.
“Thanks.” She pulled the car in and parked next to a pump. “Would you mind filling the tank while I run to the ladies’ room?”
“Already? Didn’t your mother teach you to go before you leave?” he teased as he climbed out of the car.
“I have a small bladder.”
Obviously. For the last three days, it seemed like she went every two hours.
He filled the tank, and just as he finished replacing the nozzle, Trisha returned and opened the passenger’s door. “If you don’t mind, I’ll take you up on that offer to drive. I’m having a little trouble concentrating this morning.”
“Sure.” He opened the driver’s door and slid behind the wheel.
As he pulled back onto the road, Trisha dug a pack of peppermint Lifesavers from her purse and offered him one.
“Thanks.” He popped the candy into his mouth.
“It’ll be a shame if you don’t have kids of your own. You’re a wonderful dad to Haley.”
“Right.” He snorted softly. “That’s why she jumps on every opportunity to remind me I’m not her father.”
“You shouldn’t take it personally. She misses Marc, and I suspect she feels it would be disloyal to his memory to think of you taking his place. But there isn’t a question in my mind that she loves you. When we went shopping yesterday, you were all she talked about.”
“I’ve known Pinky since.... well, you know, from when she was in Lindsey’s womb.”
Trisha chuckled. “I can’t believe you call her that.”
“Since Marc and I were business partners, I spent more time with Haley than I did my own niece—and I saw Dani a lot.”
“It’s obvious you’re close to both of them.”
“Marc fell apart after Lindsey’s accident. He could barely take care of himself, let alone his daughter. So I became her main support. Right around the time her father began to recover from losing her mom, the doctor discovered his lung cancer.”
“He didn’t smoke when I knew him.”
“He never did afterward, either. They believe it was from asbestos exposure while renovating older buildings. Anyway, I moved in with them, supposedly to take care of Marc, but really to look after Haley. We figured she needed a transition period.”
“Good idea.” She turned the heat down and glanced at him sideways. “So how’d you and Marc end up going into business together?”
“That was always our plan. We were both majoring in architecture. Then Haley was born six weeks premature and had to stay in the hospital for nearly a month. Money got tight, so Marc quit school and started working as a laborer for a construction company. He discovered he really loved the job. While I finished school, he qualified for his general contractor’s license.”
“Sounds like a match made in heaven.”
“It was. I was in charge of designing, making architectural changes, and managing the sales and administrative staff. Marc oversaw the construction sites and managed the workers and subcontractors.”
“You must be awfully busy now, dealing with his half of the business.”
“I am. I expect to be pulling all-nighters to catch up when I get home. It’s tough on Haley.”
Apparently Doc Foster had contacted Danvers right after the wedding, because Mike had called Justin’s cell phone the previous night, eager to set up a meeting. Justin had scheduled a lunch with him and Mike’s parents for Monday.
“If negotiations go well, there’s a good chance I’ll be merging my business with another builder’s. Unfortunately, if the deal goes through, I’ll be busier than ever. I’ve been offered a huge contract to design and build an entire school campus.”
“Then it’s probably a good thing we’re not planning to continue seeing each other.” She chuckled. “It doesn’t sound as if you’d have the time even if I wanted to.”
“I’d find time.” He had no idea how. He just knew he wanted the chance to try to make a relationship work with her.
Every time she infuriated him with her insistence that he shouldn’t call her, he couldn’t help thinking about Pink’s song, True Love.
He definitely wanted to strangle Trisha and kiss her at the same time. He’d felt this emotional tug of war since the day they met. So whether he wanted to admit it or not what he felt must be true love.
~*~
Trisha celebrated New Year’s Eve alone, stuffing herself on a pizza with the works and toasting the holiday with club soda and grape juice, instead of the wine spritzer she really wanted.
She returned to work on the second of January a half hour late. When she’d gotten dressed that morning, absolutely nothing with a waistline fit. After discarding one outfit after another, she’d finally settled on a pair of stretchy pants and a long sweater.
At lunchtime, she sank into a chair across from Frankie in the teachers’ lounge. “How’s your mom doing?”
“She’s fine. She’s already hopping around on her crutches. The doctor put her in a boot.”
“That’s great. So?” Trisha grabbed Fankie’s hand. “How’s it going with Andy?”
“Better. We did a lot of talking last weekend. We have an appointment to see a fertility specialist.”
Trisha opened the container of salad she’d packed that morning. “I’m so glad.”
“What’s happening between you and Justin?”
“We’re done. I dropped him off at the library on the twenty-seventh, and I haven’t heard from him since.”
“You sound disappointed. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I’m not sure.” She poured a little dressing on the greens.
“We didn’t get to talk much at the resort, but I got the impression you don’t see a future with him.”
“Not seeing a future and not wanting one are two different things.”
“So call him.” Frankie popped the tab on her Coke. “What’s the worst that can happen? He ditches you?”
“I’ve considered it.” About three thousand times. It was all she’d thought about for the last week. “I have a little problem with doing that, though.”
“Why?”
She sucked in a deep breath and blurted in a low whisper, “There’s a strong possibility I’m carrying his baby.”
“What!” Frankie dropped her turkey sandwich. “How’s that possible? You were already pregnant when you went to the Poconos.”
She glanced around, grateful no one else had arrived in the teacher’s lounge yet. “Not from our vacation. He confessed that he donated to the same sperm bank I used.”
“Oh, my gosh.”
Frankie slapped her hand over her mouth. “Did you tell him that you’re—you know—with child from a donor?”
“No way. What’s the likelihood the sperm bank in Doylestown has a zillion Latino college graduate donors who are Justin’s height and weight?”
“It sounds as if the odds are pretty good he’s the father.” Frankie picked her sandwich back up and bit into it.
“I know. I have no idea what I should do.”
“Tell him. If you are carrying his baby, it seems to me the two of you were meant to be. Heck, you caught Sabrina’s bouquet, and he caught her garter. How many coincidences do you need to convince you fate is pushing the two of you together?”
“And what if it doesn’t work out between us? I’d have to worry about him wanting to share custody.”
“He can want all he likes. He would’ve had to sign away any legal claim when he donated,” Frankie pointed out.
“That doesn’t mean he won’t try to get visitation if he finds out I’m carrying his child. The whole reason he mentioned donating was because he now regrets the decision. He decided he wants to know his children. He’s planning to try to buy back his semen.”
“Well, maybe you should make an excuse to see him and find out if he was successful. If he gets all of his samples back, you can breathe easy.”
“I know what I’m about to say will seem insane.” She stabbed her fork into her salad. “But, even though it might cause a lot of problems, I hope he is my baby’s father.”
“You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?” Frankie shook her head.
Two other teachers walked into the lounge with their lunches.
“Okay, change of topic,” Trisha told her.
“Right. I heard Matt and Abby Foster are organizing a trip to see their sons’ play in New York a week from Saturday. The first matinee performance is reserved for Vietnam vets’ families and Redemption residents only. It’s sort of a final dress rehearsal, so it’s free—first come, first serve. All anyone has to pay for is a seat on one of the buses, if they want one. Andy has to work that day, so would you like to be my date?”
“You don’t live in Redemption. And you’re a little young to be a Vietnam vet.”
“I work here. And you’re a resident.” Frankie laughed. “Why do you think I asked you to go with me?”
“More like you’re asking me to take you.”
“Pleease.” Frankie held out her folded hands. “It’s been ages since I’ve seen a Broadway play. The tickets for The Memory of You are selling for two hundred a seat, and they’re sold out for the next three months.”
“Already? The play hasn’t even opened or been reviewed yet. How does anyone know it’s any good?”
Frankie flashed a you can’t be that clueless look at her. “We’re talking about a Matt Thomas and Royce Harmon production. How could it not be phenomenal?”
True. Practically every song Matt Thomas ever composed had hit the top of the pop charts. And Royce Harmon had created and produced two of the most successful, longest running sitcoms on television, done the screenplay adaptations of several books made into films, and written a couple of bestselling novels of his own.
“There’s something I’ve been wondering since the wedding. Tom Foster composes under the name Matt Thomas. Is Royce’s last name also an alias?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve heard he’s not actually the Foster’s biological son. They raised him after he lost his mother. Someone also told me Tom Foster is a fairly shy and private person, so that’s why he goes by just his first and middle names for his music. He’s actually Matthew Thomas Foster, Jr.” Frankie leaned forward on her elbows. “So? Will you take me, pleeease?”
If the entire town was invited, there was an excellent chance Justin would be going. Avoiding him would be impossible.
Trisha released a resigned sigh. “Okay.” Living in the same town, she couldn’t help but run into him now and then, so she might as well get used to it. “I’ll take you as my guest, but only if we can go shopping after school today. I have nothing to wear.”
“Ready for maternity clothes already?”
“At the very least, bigger clothes.” She rubbed her stomach. “I could claim this gut is all baby, but the only one I’d be fooling is myself. A five-pound weight gain in ten days is not just baby. I ate way too much during the vacation break.”
“You, me, and everyone else. I can spend an hour or so at the mall. But I want to be home by six-thirty. Andy’s working days right now. We’re not on the same schedule that often, so I don’t like to make other plans when we are.”
“That’ll work. I don’t need to buy much. Just a few pairs of pants with elastic waists.”
“Why not just by maternity slacks?”
“I’d like to wait a little longer before I announce to the world I’m pregnant. And I’ll need the larger size for a few weeks after I have the baby, anyway.”
Or maybe a lot longer if she didn’t stop easing her loneliness with food and inhaling whole pizzas. Some might excuse her appetite because a pregnant woman supposedly eats for two, however, in her case, she’d been eating for more like three or four.
~*~
When Justin arrived home late Friday afternoon, he sat right down at the drafting table in his home office. The lunch meeting he’d had with the Danvers family on Monday had been a success. He’d really liked Mike and his parents, and they seemed like a family he could easily work with. They had a lot of the same business philosophies, attitudes, and ethics.
Fortunately for Justin, Tyler Fitzpatrick had found time in his busy schedule to negotiate on his behalf. Mike and his lawyer had spent the entire morning with Justin and Tyler studying both businesses’ ledgers and hammering out an equitable deal.
Since Danvers’ company was much older with a few more assets and an equally sterling reputation, Justin hadn’t hesitated to accept second billing in the new company’s name, which would be Danvers/ Riverá Quality Construction.
The front door closed quietly in the foyer almost as if Haley was trying to sneak in.
“How was your day?” he called.
“Okay.” She poked her head into his office. “What’s for dinner?”
“I haven’t even thought about it.”
She strolled over to his drafting table and leaned on it to study the preliminary sketches he’d done. “What’re you workin’ on?”
“A private school’s campus.” The day before, he’d received a thick packet Luke had Fed-Exed to him from Bermuda that contained detailed requirements for the project. BJ Elliott had apparently pledged additional funds, and Luke wanted the facilities for the charity-supported institution to rival any elite prep school in the country.
“Cool. Are you building it in Redemption?”
“Yup.” He tossed down his pencil and spun his chair to face her. “Did you see Ms. Mason today?”
“No.” Haley looked at him as if he had a third eye. “Why would I? She works in the guidance office. It’s not like she’s my teacher.”
“Right.”
“I could make some spaghetti and a salad,” she offered.
“Sounds good.” He stood and followed her into the kitchen. “You make the pasta, I’ll fix the salad. After dinner, I have a ton of work to wade through.”
“It’s Friday night. You have the whole weekend.”
“Actually, I don’t. A lot of it is paperwork I didn’t get done last week.” He moved the cutting board to the work island. “I’m sorry. I promise it’ll get better soon. I merged with another company today to take over your dad’s—uhh, some of the jobs I don’t have time for,” he quickly amended. The last thing the child needed was a reminder of why he was so busy.
She placed a large pot under the faucet and turned on the water. “Did you hear about the free Broadway play Doc Foster and his wife invited everyone in town to?”
“Yeah, I heard something about it.” Actually, Mike’s dad, who was also Doc Foster’s best f
riend, had encouraged him to attend.
“It’s a week from tomorrow in the afternoon. All we have to pay for are seats on the bus. Can we go?”
“Maybe.” Considering how involved she’d always been in the drama club, he would hate for her to miss it. “If your Uncle Nick and Aunt Sam are taking Dani, you can go with them if it turns out I can’t.”
He’d already burnt up an entire workday rescinding his donor agreement at the sperm bank and arranging to have his semen specimens sent to him. Apparently one vial had already been paid for and dispensed. Since the proceeds had covered the cost of his donor testing and he hadn’t accepted any remuneration, they’d told him he didn’t owe them anything.
He hated hoping for a desperate couple to fail at conceiving, but he couldn’t help it. There was no way he would ever know if he had a child as a result of his rash decision. But at least there would only be one potential offspring and not half a dozen that he would spend his life wondering about.
Never again would he make decisions while in the middle of a life-changing crisis.
“But if we don’t reserve tickets right away, they might run out,” Haley persisted, opening a jar of pasta sauce and dumping it into a saucepan. “You know,” she said in a hopeful tone, “Ms. M. could be goin’ to the play.”
“You think?”
“I don’t know. I’m just sayin’ she might.”
“Okay.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll call tonight and tell Mrs. Foster to put us on the list.”
Haley set the empty jar on the counter and turned to him, her arms crossed over her chest. “Aren’t you ever gonna call her?”
“I just said I would. Can we eat dinner first?”
“I meant Ms. Mason.”
“No! We already discussed this. I promised Trisha I wouldn’t call. I do try to keep my word when possible.”
“So how am I ever gonna see her?” she whined.
“Visit her at school.”
“I guess I could.” She released a loud huff. “Or I could call her. I didn’t make any stupid promises.”
Ninety-nine, ninety-eight, ninety-seven....“I guess you could. But if you try to involve me in your call, you’ll be grounded.” He pulled the fixings for their salad from the refrigerator, and changed the subject. “So since I’ll be working, what’re you gonna do tonight, Pinky?”
Don't Break My Heart (Return to Redemption, Book 6) Page 12