“It’s a scarf,” Liz said, snatching it back. She plunked herself down on the sofa, furiously knitting, adding to its length.
Rachel sat on the sofa next to her. “What are those long strings? And is it supposed to have holes?”
“Yes,” Liz replied, knitting, knitting, knitting. It was the only thing keeping her from screaming.
“Okay,” Rachel said as she slowly reached for Liz’s hands, “let’s put the needles down. I can smell the Lysol, so I know you’ve been cleaning like a madwoman. You didn’t make much sense on the phone. What did you mess up?”
Liz dropped the needles. “I messed up birth control. I might be pregnant!” She grabbed the needles and tried to knit, but the yarn blurred through the tears in her eyes.
Rachel gently took the needles from her hands and set them on the end table out of reach. “Okay, where are you in your cycle?”
“I’m nine days away from my period, and Dr. Cohen said that’s not always a sure thing!”
“Oh, honey, whatever happens, you know I’m here for you, and I’m sure Ryan would do the right thing too. He’s a good guy.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. He’ll be stuck with me, and I’ll never know how he feels about me, just me, no baby responsibility.”
Rachel gave her a look of concern. “Let’s wait until we have all the facts. If dear Aunt Flo doesn’t make an appearance, we’ll do a test. Okay?”
Liz sniffled. “Okay.”
Her cell rang, and she picked it up to see the caller ID. Ryan. She let it go to voice mail.
“Ryan?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah. I’m not up to talking about this with him. I’ll just get more upset.”
“Maybe he wants to be there for you. Why not let him?”
“I need my knitting.” She leaned over and reached for her scarf.
“Come on,” Rachel said, tugging Liz off the sofa. “You need to get out of this apartment.”
Liz let Rachel guide her. “Where are we going?”
“We’re going to drown your troubles in ice cream.” She locked the apartment door behind them.
“Okay.”
“Now I know you need ice cream. You didn’t even mention how long you’d need to do the treadmill after.”
Liz headed down the stairs to the parking lot. “I skipped dinner. Ice cream works.”
They headed off to Shane’s Scoops.
“Hey Liz, Rachel, how are ya?” Shane asked when they reached the counter.
“Fine, and you?” Liz asked.
“Fine, fine.” His attention was on Rachel, who was twirling the end of her braid and studying the ice cream flavors on the whiteboard.
Rachel looked up, and their eyes met. Shane instantly blushed. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi, Shane,” Rachel said in her no-nonsense voice. “I’ll have a sundae with chocolate brownie ice cream, hot fudge, and chocolate sprinkles.”
“Same,” Liz immediately agreed.
Shane began scooping. He topped each sundae with extra whipped cream and a generous amount of hot fudge. He handed Liz her sundae and turned to Rachel, handing over hers.
“How’s things at Book It?” he asked. “Keeping you busy?”
“Pretty busy,” Rachel replied.
“Do you work every weekend?” Shane asked.
“Excuse me, can we order?” said a dad with three kids standing in line behind them.
“Be right there,” Shane said, but he kept his eyes on Rachel, intent on her answer.
“Pretty much,” Rachel said. She whirled around and speedwalked to a table with her sundae.
Liz followed in her wake. They sat down and dug into their sundaes. Rachel’s cheeks were pink.
Liz leaned forward. “Did Shane just ask you out?”
“I hope not,” Rachel said, not meeting her eyes. “He’s too serious. Kerry told me he always wanted to talk through everything. She could never just have a good fight with him.”
“You want to fight?” Liz asked.
Rachel’s gaze wandered back to where Shane was jovially greeting some kids. She snapped her attention back to her sundae. “Besides if we broke up, and let’s face it, we would break up, where would I go for my daily caffeine and sugar fix?”
Liz ate a spoonful of ice cream. Rachel had a point. The ice cream was heavenly. She was feeling a little better already.
“Shane’s a nice guy,” Liz said. “It could work out. Not everyone is like Drew.”
Rachel stirred her hot fudge into the chocolate brownie ice cream, making it even more chocolatey. “Drew was a stalker, so thank God not every guy is like him. Don’t forget Brandon; it took me a year to realize he was gay. And Jake, who didn’t believe in taking his meds for bipolar. Oh, and Mark, the married accountant picking up women at clubs. You have to admit I have terrible taste in men.”
Liz tightened her lips. She couldn’t help but agree. Geez, she thought her ex-fiancé Craig was bad, and her long dry spell, but Rachel’s record was so much worse. She swallowed down some more ice cream, letting the cool sweetness relax her. “We might be cursed.”
Rachel snorted. “Cursed with bad taste in men?”
Liz nodded, warming to the idea. “Although, Shane might be the antidote to your curse.”
“No, I think you were right the first time,” Rachel proclaimed just as Shane approached from behind her. Liz raised her brows in a silent warning. “I’m cursed and doomed to a life of spinsterhood. I will die a virgin old lady with ten cats!” With that, she cracked up.
Shane stopped cold, eyes wide. Liz pointed to Shane. Rachel stiffened and slowly turned around.
She whipped her head back to Liz. “Omigod, did he hear that?” she whispered.
“I didn’t hear a thing,” Shane promised, even as his face flushed. “I’m just erasing toasted marshmallow from the daily specials. We’re all out.” He picked up an eraser and wiped it off the small whiteboard of specials he kept near the front of the shop.
Rachel dropped her head in her hands and moaned.
“Don’t mind her,” Liz said. “Brain freeze.”
“Ice cream hazard,” Shane said. “Perfectly understandable.” One corner of his mouth kicked up as he headed back behind the counter.
Chapter Twenty-One
Liz managed to get through the rest of the week without running into Ryan and avoided his calls. She hadn’t wanted to worry him, though, so she’d texted that she’d let him know as soon as she knew she wasn’t pregnant. Left it on a positive note. By Friday, she was exhausted from the waiting and the guilt over avoiding him. It wasn’t like it was his fault. Took two to tango and all that baloney.
She stopped by Garner’s for dinner and went through the back door to say hello to her parents first. She ran into her mother in a mad rush for the door.
“Daisy had the baby! I’m heading to the airport!”
“Wait, Mom! Is she okay? Is the baby okay?”
“Everyone’s good. Healthy. Help out your dad.” Then she ran out the door to her car.
Liz felt a stab of disappointment that she’d missed the birth. She’d told Daisy to call her as soon as she went into labor. Too late now. At least everything had gone well. She just hated to think of her sister going through that alone.
She found her father sitting on a stool at the bar, staring at nothing. “Dad, are you okay?”
“I’m a grandfather,” he said with a look of amazement. “I’ve got a grandson.”
Liz hugged her dad and blinked back tears. She wanted to fly out to see the baby too, as soon as possible.
“Do you have the number of the hospital?” she asked.
He went to the phone behind the bar and ripped a piece of paper off the message pad. “Here it is. Can you believe it?”
She nodded. “I’m so happy everything’s okay.” She took her cell out back to the parking lot and dialed the number for Daisy’s room.
“Hello!” Daisy answered jubilantly.
&nb
sp; “Daisy, it’s Liz. Congratulations! How are you? I wanted to be there.” She worked to keep the petulance from her voice.
“I’m fine. I tore a little.” Liz grimaced over that visual. “He came so fast. I didn’t realize it was the real deal at first, thought it was those Braxton-Hicks like they talk about in that book you got me.”
Liz smiled. Daisy actually read the book.
“He was a day early. By the time I realized it was the real thing and got to the hospital, he was born forty-five minutes later.”
“What did you name him?”
“I’m thinking of naming him Swifty because he was in such a hurry to get here.” She murmured in a sing-song voice, “Weren’t you, honey?”
“Are you holding him now?”
“Yes. He’s perfect.”
Liz’s heart squeezed. “I can’t wait to see him. I’ll tell Mom to email me a picture. Oh, and I’ll also ask her to look up baby names online when she’s with you.”
“Yeah, she should be here around midnight. Call me at home tomorrow. I’m checking out with Mom first thing in the morning. I can’t afford to stay here long. I have no idea how I’m going to pay this hospital bill.”
Liz immediately thought of the father and the child support he should be paying.
“Should I come out too?” Liz asked.
“Mom’ll be here for almost two weeks. Why don’t you check in with her and come after she leaves, that way I’ll have help for longer.”
Liz didn’t want to wait, but she wanted to be helpful, and if that meant waiting, she would. “Okay.”
“Oh, I’ve got to go. The lady who shows me how to get the baby on the boob just showed up.”
“Okay, good luck with that.” Liz hung up. Long distance with her nephew was going to be so hard. There was still a chance that she could be pregnant. She pressed a hand to her stomach. Daisy was so happy about her baby. She suddenly wished she was going to have one of her own.
The baby is here.
Surely the father would want to know about it and at least help out financially. After she helped her dad get through the dinner rush, she went home and pulled up the Norwalk Tigers website. She sent an email to the manager with the subject line URGENT. She hoped he would question his players and find out who had been with Daisy Garner because they were now the father of a healthy son.
~ ~ ~
Ryan changed into his running clothes and headed out for his usual run through the back streets of Clover Park. Liz hadn’t returned his phone calls ever since he’d told her he hadn’t used protection. How long did it take to know if you were pregnant? It’d been five days, and he hadn’t heard a peep. She’d said she would tell him, but now she was giving him the cold shoulder, and he hated being in the dark.
He berated himself again for his stupidity. He, who never wanted the responsibility of kids, had given himself not one, but two shots at fatherhood.
He pushed himself harder until all thoughts of Liz dropped away. Finally, the cramp in his side made him stop, sweating and breathing hard. He was getting too old to be outrunning his troubles. He turned and jogged slowly back as a vision of a little girl with blond pigtails stuck in his mind, a miniature Liz. He would do right by the child, whether or not he was ready. Fresh sweat popped out on his forehead. Get a grip. You do the crime, you do the time.
~ ~ ~
Liz was getting annoyed. She still hadn’t heard from the Tigers manager two days later. Sure, they were in California for an away series, but didn’t he check his email? She was so anxious for an answer, she checked her email every time a new message pinged in. No go. But she did get an email from Maggie inviting her to an “informal” Sunday dinner tonight.
By the time dinner rolled around, Liz was cranky and emotional, either in the throes of PMS or drowning in pregnancy hormones. The not-knowing was making her crazy. Add to that the fact that Ryan would probably be at Maggie’s. She spent some time doing her deep-breathing exercises before she left the apartment. She didn’t have any news for Ryan yet, and she needed to act as normal as possible in front of his family.
The moment Liz walked into Maggie’s house, she was instantly wary. The casual dinner consisted of Maggie, Jorge, and Ryan. It felt like a surreal double date.
“Hi, everyone.” Liz set her purse down by one of the velvet chairs. She’d dressed up a bit, in an attempt to cover her glum mood, wearing crisp linen capris and a sleeveless silk tank with a floral scarf tied loosely at her neck.
“Hello, Liz!” Maggie trilled.
Jorge and Maggie stood to greet her. Jorge kissed her on both cheeks. Maggie went for a hug.
After they’d finished, Ryan approached. “How are you?” His hazel eyes searched hers.
She kept her voice upbeat. “I’m fine. You?”
“Fine. I—” He stopped himself, turned, and returned to his seat in a velvet chair.
“Help yourself if you’d like some wine,” Maggie offered. They all settled into the living room. The smell of roast chicken wafted through the air. Liz eyed the sauvignon blanc on the coffee table, but abstained, just in case she was pregnant. She took the other velvet chair. Maggie and Jorge settled on the floral loveseat. Naturally.
“So, this is nice,” Maggie said, smiling at all of them.
Ryan raised an eyebrow. “Anyone else coming to this dinner party?” He’d worn khakis and a button-down denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing tanned, muscular forearms. Even in her cranky don’t-touch-me mood, she was drawn to him.
“Your brothers should be here a little later,” Maggie replied. She took a cashew from a bowl of mixed nuts on the table. “So, anyone read any good books lately?”
When no one replied, Maggie went on and on about a book she’d read that had “something for everyone.” She spoke in enthusiastic praise of the three-generation saga “that didn’t leave out any of the naked bits.”
Liz cleared her throat. Jorge merely smiled.
“Seen any good movies, Ry?” Maggie asked. “Liz here is a big fan of those romantic comedies and, what did you call it, honey?”
“Um, family dramas,” Liz said. “It’s always better when it’s not happening to your family.” She laughed weakly.
Maggie leaned forward. “What’s your favorite family drama?”
Liz shifted in her chair as all eyes fell on her. “I like a lot of them. It’s hard to think of just one.”
“Tell Liz what kind of movies you like, Ry,” Maggie urged.
Ryan cocked his head to the side. “Can I help you in the kitchen?”
“That’d be great,” Maggie said. The two disappeared into the kitchen, sharing a low conversation. Liz smiled awkwardly at Jorge.
“I don’t need help taking it to the next level!” Ryan’s voice clearly carried out from the kitchen.
Liz grimaced. Maggie had no idea the precarious level that she and Ryan had reached with a possible baby on the way.
“Haven’t seen you in dance class,” Jorge said smoothly. “I’m planning a special under-forty singles dance if you’d like to come. You can bring a friend too.”
Liz shook her head. “That’s okay, thanks.” The silence stretched on, and she tried to think what she and Jorge could talk about. The only thing they had in common was Maggie, and she didn’t want to hear any details on that front.
“What kind of work do you do?” Jorge finally asked.
“I teach third…” She trailed off as Ryan’s voice rose in volume.
“My sex life is none of your business!”
“Grade,” Liz finished.
“Being a teacher is hard work,” Jorge said, ignoring the background noise. “It takes a special kind of person with a lot of patience.”
“I don’t want to hear about your sex life either!” Ryan shouted.
Jorge sipped his wine, his eyes shifting away.
“It must take a lot of patience to be a dance instructor too,” Liz said.
Dear Lord, if this is how the night’s g
oing to go, I don’t think I’ll make it to dessert.
“You know, it is something that I love to do,” Jorge said. “And anyone can be taught. Some pick it up like this”—he snapped his fingers—“some take a little longer. No matter. To move, to dance, caught up in the music is all that matters.”
Liz flashed back to her awkward dance with Shane as he bumped and jostled her in their attempt at a cha-cha. She hadn’t gotten a chance to get caught up in the music.
Another awkward silence fell. She could hear low conversation going on in the kitchen, but she couldn’t make out their words.
“Sure has been a nice summer, temperature-wise,” Liz said.
“Very nice,” Jorge agreed. “Not too hot.”
“Yes.” Her throat was dry, but she didn’t dare go into the kitchen for a glass of water. “So…”
The doorbell rang. Saved! Jorge went to let Shane and Trav in.
“I brought ice cream,” Shane announced. “French vanilla with hazelnut swirl.”
“Sounds wonderful,” Liz said.
“It is.” Shane smiled and headed for the kitchen.
Trav raised his empty hands above his head. “I brought me.”
Liz laughed. “That sounds wonderful too.”
Trav put an arm around her and kissed her cheek. “Let me know if you get tired of the old man.”
Ryan appeared out of nowhere. “I can still take you, Trav,” he growled.
Liz jumped.
Trav slowly removed his arm and put his hands up. “Take it easy.”
A kindling of hope ignited in her heart. Ryan hadn’t said any tender words to her in all the nights they’d been together, but his action spoke volumes. Jorge and Trav exchanged amused looks.
“Dinner’s ready!” Maggie called.
Liz followed Jorge into the dining room, where Maggie now sat at the head of the table. Shane held out a chair for Liz. What a gentlemanly thing to do! She smiled and took the seat. Ryan shot Shane a dirty look.
Without being asked, Ryan stood and carved the chicken. Liz guessed they were used to him doing it. Soon they were passing sliced chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and soft dinner rolls around the table.
Maggie kept the conversation going for all of them with tales of the Clover Park Women’s Club and the drama the women got up to in their mission to help the less fortunate. Like who would coordinate their fundraising dinner and how Bridget had quit in a snit over candles vs. no candles on the tables.
The Opposite of Wild Page 18