Pipe Dreams

by Sarina Bowen

  “Yeah,” she said, her breath shuddery. “But . . .” She reached under her pillow and pulled it out. She flipped the pages—there were four or five, with Shelly’s handwriting on both sides. Elsa found the one she was looking for and thrust it at him.

  This isn’t easy for me to tell you, but I want you to know the truth about why your father and I broke up. I cheated, honey. I went behind your father’s back to have a relationship with Tad. I can’t tell you how much I regret the way I handled it. Deception is never the right way to fix a broken relationship. Maybe my relationship with Daddy wasn’t fixable, but now I’ll never know.

  He cursed under his breath.

  I’m telling you this because you might hear things that aren’t true. Or you might wonder why Daddy moved out, and he might not be willing to tell you. And—this is the most important thing I have to say—if your father finds someone who treats him better than I did, I hope you can make room in your heart to understand that he deserves that.

  Shit.

  Elsa leaned into him, crying silently. He passed a hand over his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, honey. I’m sure that was hard to read.” On the one hand, he understood why Shelly had felt the need to be honest with her daughter. But maybe it could have waited five years instead of one.

  “It’s okay,” Elsa sobbed.

  Right. “Would now be a bad time to mention that Lauren is coming over for dinner?”

  Elsa snorted and laughed and cried all at the same time.

  Mike grabbed a tissue out of the box on her night table and dabbed at her face. “Your mom was a good person, okay? Only a good person can own up to her worst mistakes like that. It was brave of her.”

  “I kn-know,” Elsa stuttered. “What did yours say?”

  “What?” He grabbed a second tissue because the first one was already trashed.

  But when he held it up to her face, Elsa snatched it and mopped up herself. “What did your letter say?”

  “I didn’t read it yet.”

  “Really? Aren’t you curious? Mine was, like, burning a hole in my desk drawer.”

  He sighed. “I’ll read it if you want me to.” Maybe then this whole letter-reading business would just go away.

  “Do it.”

  Mike got up off his bed and climbed the flight to the master suite. He glanced around his bedroom and noted that the cleaning woman had been by. Good. He wasn’t inviting Lauren to spend the night in a bachelor’s dive. It took him a minute to locate the FedEx envelope and slide the letter out.

  By the time he slid his thumb under the flap and tore it open, Elsa was waiting in the doorway, her eyes on him. The note was just two paragraphs long.

  Mike—

  Your letter is short because I’m not going to bother nagging you to buy organic or to learn to cook something more than pancakes and steak.

  He burst out laughing.

  “What?” Elsa yelped, scampering over.

  He held up a hand to keep her at bay, though, until he’d read the whole thing.

  . . . You and I never did things the same way, but I already know you’re a great dad.

  I’m sorry if I upset our girl with my letter, but I had to say it now. Because honey—if she waited for you, go get her back. Life is too damn short. The sacrifice you made for me was extreme, and I want you to know I appreciate it. Now go and be happy while there’s still time.

  —S

  The room went blurry.

  “Oh, Daddy! What is it?”

  Wordlessly, he passed her the note. When Elsa read the first line, she clapped a hand over her mouth. But then she bit her lip, and the tears started up again. “Oh, man.”

  Those were his thoughts exactly.

  “She was a good person,” Elsa said, as if to reassure them both.

  “That was never in doubt,” he said. “Marriage is hard. Things were complicated with us. It wasn’t all your mom’s fault, either.”

  His daughter put her head on his chest and hugged him. “I’m never getting married.”

  “Uh-huh. I’ll remind you of this conversation someday.”

  “Is Lauren really coming over?”

  “She is, sweetie. I invited her.”

  “Okay. Then I have to go wash my face and change.”

  “Nah. Why?”

  “She always looks so freaking perfect. She has the best clothes.”

  He chuckled. “Lauren likes to shop, kid. You play your cards right, she’ll take you with her sometime.”

  Elsa squinted up at him. “Don’t try to butter me up, okay? I hate it. I can see you coming from a mile away.”

  Yikes. Just like the boys in Dallas. “You should play hockey. Center, or maybe right wing.”

  His daughter gave him a half-irritated look and left the room to go and rummage through her closet.

  Mike put Shelly’s note back in its envelope. He tucked it into the top drawer of his dresser, then went to see if Hans was home from the grocery store yet.

  TWENTY-NINE

  An hour later Lauren stood in Mike’s gleaming kitchen slicing the strawberries she’d picked up on the way here. She’d also brought pound cake and cream to whip.

  Until a moment ago, Mike, Elsa, Hans, and Justin had been standing here with her, drinking the first beer of the evening and catching up on news. Hans had told them about his audition for the Miami orchestra tomorrow. “That is life in the arts. You are always scrambling to make a good impression.”

  “You’re going to win this one,” Elsa had said with stars in her eyes. “I just know it.”

  The smile he gave her was so full of love that it broke Lauren’s heart. This child had been so unlucky to lose her mother at such a tender age. Thank god there were people in her life to help her through it.

  And who knew that pregnancy would make her so emotional? This was the third time today that an act of kindness had made her feel all gooey inside.

  The men were outdoors now in Mike’s little backyard, and the steaks were on the grill. Elsa came back through the kitchen, and Lauren stopped her. “Hey, I have something for you in my bag. But don’t get excited, it’s just three kinds of pads. I thought you could try the different styles and see what worked best.”

  “Oh! Thank you. Really.” The girl’s eyes darted toward the door, and Lauren could hear the gears turning in her head. She didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Hans and company.

  “My bag is in the living room,” Lauren said, tipping her chin in that direction. “They’re right inside the main compartment—grab them now while the coast is clear.” Her own hands were sticky with strawberry juice.

  Elsa darted away, and Lauren finished up the berries. She sprinkled sugar over them, and a squirt of lemon.

  “Steaks are ready!” Mike said, coming through the back door, followed by Hans and Justin. He gave her a blinding smile.

  “Okay. I’m done here.” Lauren set the bowl of berries to macerate and rinsed her sticky fingers. She could whip the cream after dinner. She carried her glass of water to the table, which was set for six. Lauren would bet any sum of money that Hans had set it, not Mike. The silverware shone in perfect lines in a way that shouted OCD! Which Mike was not.

  “Elsa!” Mike called toward the stairs. “Dinner!” He put a steak on Lauren’s plate, and then Justin passed her the pasta salad, and a bowl of broccoli.

  For a moment, the four adults waited.

  Mike got up and walked over to the stairway. “Els! Did you hear me? Dinner is ready!”

  She returned something that Lauren couldn’t make out.

  “Let’s start,” Mike said, taking his seat. “We can’t let the food get cold just because somebody is on her own clock.”

  After the dishes had been passed, Lauren cut into her steak and took a bite. It was excellent. She wondered wh
en she’d start to feel nauseated by the pregnancy. Apart from a little soreness in her breasts—and a positive pregnancy test—there weren’t any symptoms. Yet. She had her first appointment with the obstetrician a week from today, where she could ask all her questions.

  It took five or ten minutes until Elsa appeared. She stalked over to the table and sat down.

  “Good of you to join us,” Mike said, passing her a steak.

  Elsa gave him dagger eyes, and Lauren marveled. The kid had been cheerful enough a half hour ago. Hell, teenagers were moody. Even Hans couldn’t draw her out. When he asked her a couple of gentle questions about her day at school, she gave him monosyllabic answers.

  “What do you think of this wine?” Justin asked, sipping from his glass. “I don’t usually go in for Malbec, but the wine guy raved.”

  “It’s spicy,” Mike said. “I like it.”

  “And I like everything,” Hans admitted. “He always goes on about the nose or the terroir, and I just nod and smile.”

  “That’s okay, honey,” Justin said, laying a hand on his. “I like a cheap date.”

  Everyone laughed. Except for Elsa. She raised a cool gaze to Lauren’s. “What do you think of the wine?” she challenged.

  Oh boy. Lauren, stunned by the question, stared across the table at Elsa, who regarded her with a laser gaze.

  The girl knew.

  Still tongue-tied, Lauren went over the last hour in her mind. How had she given herself away? Not everybody accepted a beer when offered one. And she hadn’t said a word. She’d brought Elsa those maxi pads . . .

  Oh, crap. Her prenatal vitamins were in that bag somewhere. It was entirely possible that Elsa had glimpsed them. There was a big freaking pregnant belly on the label, with a heart drawn on it.

  And the untouched glass of wine Hans had poured her sat there on the table like a beacon. She felt eyes on her.

  “Maybe Lauren isn’t in the mood to drink tonight,” Mike said lightly.

  “Is that how you want to play it?” Elsa asked. She set down her fork. “When did you plan to tell me?”

  “Uh-oh,” Mike muttered under his breath.

  “When I was sure,” Lauren sputtered. “It isn’t personal.”

  “Just do me one favor?” Elsa stabbed a cherry tomato in her pasta salad as if trying to spear it in the heart. “If the baby was an accident, don’t ever let it know, okay? Don’t let it hear its grandparents tell their neighbors that its daddy got its mother knocked up at eighteen. Don’t let the wives in the clubhouse whisper about how young they had you. And don’t end up apologizing to your kid for cheating on each other, okay? Because the baby will not want to hear that she was the source of all your woe.”

  Elsa jammed the tomato in her mouth and stood up from the table. Then she made her exit with a regal posture which she maintained all the way up the stairs.

  There was stunned silence at the table then. Nobody even chewed.

  Mike was the first to shake it off. He looked up at the ceiling. “Thanks a crap ton, Shelly. Nice timing!”

  “What?” Lauren said, trying to make sense of it.

  He shook his head. “I’ll go talk to her. No—I’ll finish my steak. Then I’ll go talk to her. Her day has been full of revelations. She just needs a break.” He took Lauren’s hand under the table, then addressed Hans. “So, we’re having a baby or two.”

  “Probably,” Lauren corrected. “It’s early.”

  “Two?” Hans asked.

  She jerked her head toward Mike. “That’s his funny little joke. I’ll settle for one healthy one.”

  “Congratulations,” the German man said, his smile bashful.

  “Thank you. You’re the first person to say that, because I haven’t told a soul.”

  “And yet . . .” Mike pointed at the staircase.

  “That was probably my error,” Lauren admitted. “I had her fetch something out of my bag, and I think she saw my vitamins.”

  “Good going, slick,” Mike said, squeezing her hand. “And after you swore me to secrecy.”

  “I know! I’m sorry.”

  He just smiled. “It had to come out at some point.” He let go of her hand to cut another bite of his steak. Then he picked up her glass of wine and took a sip. “You won’t be needing this.”

  “Sadly, no. Are you going to have a chat with Elsa? I don’t mind doing it.”

  He smiled. “I got it. I’m giving her a few minutes, first. And I’m going to eat my steak. Then I’m going to tell my little girl how much I love her.”

  “You’re very calm about this.”

  Chewing, he glanced up the staircase. “Not always. But no goalie has ever had a hundred percent save rate.”

  “What?”

  “It’s just something I tell myself sometimes.” He reached over and gave her knee a squeeze.

  Goalies, Lauren smiled to herself. So calm in the hailstorm of life. She tried to imagine what life would be like a year from now. No—two years. There’d be a high chair pulled up to the table. Even if their toddler was throwing peas on the floor and Elsa was having a teenage meltdown, Mike would be smiling at her over the rim of his wineglass, weathering the storm. She felt a rush of love for this man and his easy smile.

  “The pasta salad is excellent,” Mike said to Hans.

  “Danke.”

  Lauren stabbed an olive with her fork and felt tears in her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. But today they were tears of joy.

  She’d take it.

  THIRTY

  On his way up to Elsa’s room fifteen minutes later, he paused to grab a photo album from the bookshelf underneath the TV. Tucking it under his arm, he took the stairs two at a time and then tapped on Elsa’s door.

  “Come in,” she grumbled from the bed.

  He sat down beside her. Could be worse, he noticed. She wasn’t crying, but rather watching a YouTube video of bears invading someone’s backyard pool. And when she looked up at him, her expression was sheepish. “I shouldn’t have gone on that rant,” she said. “But I’m really having a day, you know?”

  “I do know.” He leaned back against her headboard and opened the photo album on his lap.

  “You guys never said it out loud, but everyone always whispered about Mom. That she was the pregnant girl at her high school graduation.”

  “She was,” Mike admitted. “I’m sure that wasn’t easy on her. Look.” He’d opened the album to his favorite baby picture of Elsa. She was maybe six months old, and wearing a tiny hockey jersey. He was skating across a practice rink with her tucked under his arm. They were both smiling widely. “You were so stinkin’ cute. I loved it when you and Mom came to the rink so I could show you off.”

  He flipped the pages slowly. Elsa wearing a paper birthday hat, with icing all over her face. Elsa on her mother’s lap, reading a bedtime story. The three of them smiling up at the camera from a picnic blanket, Elsa seated on Mike’s thigh, using his body like a lounge chair.

  Preschool-aged Elsa, dressed up like an Ewok for Halloween, Mike as Hans Solo and Shelly as Princess Leia.

  “Holy crap we look ridiculous,” Elsa said, but she was smiling.

  He put an arm around her. “I love being your dad. Always have. That’s not an accident.”

  She laid her cheek against his shoulder and said nothing.

  He turned another page. Elsa’s first day of kindergarten, holding Mike’s hand on the way into school on Long Island. Elsa wearing tap shoes and a purple tutu for a dance recital. Elsa holding her very first violin and a stubby looking bow.

  Shelly hugging Elsa, her eyes closed, a look of pure joy on her face.

  Beside him, Elsa sniffled.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the baby yet,” he whispered. “We only found out six days ago.”

  Elsa picked her head up. “Really?”r />
  “Really. And Lauren is worried she’ll have a miscarriage. That happens a lot, I guess. But if Lauren lost this baby, we’d try again. It wasn’t an accident, just like you and I aren’t an accident.”

  Elsa made a noise of disbelief, the sort that only a teenager can pull off.

  “Your mom and I didn’t get our timing right,” he said softly. “It didn’t help things between us. But there has never been a single day when I didn’t want to be your dad. And if this baby makes its way into the world next winter, the same will be true for him.”

  “Or her,” Elsa whispered.

  “Or her. Or them.”

  “Them?”

  “It could be twins. You never know.”

  “I like babies,” Elsa said, sounding teary.

  “So do I.” He tucked her closer to his chest. “And grumpy teenagers. Hans put a cover over your plate so your pasta salad won’t get dried out.”

  “That was nice of him.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “If you marry Lauren, Hans will move out, won’t he?”

  “Probably,” Mike admitted. “I don’t have a road map, Els. Lauren and I have a lot of things to figure out.”

  “When are you getting married?” Elsa demanded. “You have to. For the baby.”

  He laughed. “What other advice do you have for me? Shall I take notes?”

  She elbowed him, and he laughed again. “Are we still going to France at the end of June?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. Whatever changes were coming, there was no need to call off the vacation he and Elsa had been planning for a year.

  “Is Lauren coming with us?”

  He had to think about that. “She has to go on a business trip to China with Nate. By the way—please don’t tell a soul that Lauren is pregnant, okay? It’s too early to tell people. And her boss doesn’t know. She’ll choose the right time to tell him.”

  “China? Wow. Is Lauren going to keep working for Nate after the baby is born?”