by Susan Gable
“Sloan? Door-to-door service would be good tonight.”
“I gave you door-to-door service. I can’t take care of you if you’re over there and I’m over here. And I can’t leave the girls alone all night.” He slid from the truck, coming around to her side. Cold air rushed in when he opened the door and offered his hand. “Welcome home.”
“Tex, I’m a big girl—”
“Don’t argue with me. It’s not open for debate. I’m not willing to find you lying on the floor in front of the toilet, dehydrated and damn near unresponsive again.”
Her breath clouded around them as she exhaled.
“Look, Jenna, this isn’t what either of us had in mind. But now we’ve got to play the cards we’re holdin’. We’ve got to do the right thing.” His warm palms framed her face. “I’m going to support you in this. And support means more than just money. If you don’t want to stay for yourself, then…do it for the baby. Our baby.”
“Our baby? That sounds so…weird.”
He wanted to make her see the tiny life inside her for what it was—a child. Something to be cherished, even though neither of them had intended this to happen. “I’m picturing a little girl with red hair and her momma’s quick smile and warm laugh.”
Jenna’s eyebrows twitched. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“I know.”
She offered him a half smile. “Maybe she’ll have her daddy’s blue eyes, too.”
“I’d like that.” When he leaned forward as if to kiss her, she shot her hand up between them and covered her mouth.
“Don’t,” she mumbled. “I’m disgusting.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead instead. “Let’s get you inside and settled, huh?”
“What about Princess?”
“She’ll be okay at your place until morning. We’ll deal with her tomorrow. We’ll deal with all of it tomorrow. Now you need some rest.”
As he guided her into his house, he crossed his fingers that tomorrow she would agree to do the right things.
To have his baby.
And to marry him.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WITH JENNA ASLEEP in his bed, Sloan found himself prowling the first floor of the house, walking circuits through the living room, dining room, into the kitchen, and back around.
He was going to be a dad again. That took some getting used to. More disconcerting was Jenna’s refusal to acknowledge that she was going to carry the baby to term. The small victory of getting her to picture a little girl with his blue eyes wasn’t something he could count on to tip the scales.
He dug in the front hall closet and pulled out the old VCR buried on the top shelf. After hooking it up, he popped in the tape the doctor had given him.
The tiny flicker of their baby’s heart in the silvery static made doing the right thing clear. On all accounts. Shutting it off, he climbed the stairs and headed for Brook’s room. He stepped over the discarded clothes on the floor, drew closer to her bed.
The soft lines of her face in sleep made her look even younger. It was still so hard to believe that his baby carried a baby of her own. The mattress creaked as he perched on the edge.
Brook stirred, opened one eye. “Dad? W-what’s wrong? Is Jenna okay?”
He nodded. “She’ll be fine.” He tucked her hair behind her ear. “It’s just… I’ve been doing some thinking tonight. Brook, sweetheart…” He sighed. “I don’t know that an abortion is the right thing. A baby is a precious thing, no matter how it comes into being.”
Both eyes open now, she nodded. “I already figured that out, Dad. I just can’t do…that. You’re right. It wouldn’t be the right thing. I don’t think I could live with myself. I mean, what if Mom had decided to abort me? No, I just can’t do it.”
“You figured that out already, huh?”
“Yeah.”
The half smile he gave her felt bittersweet. “Guess you’re growing up already, Snickerdoodle.”
“Da-ad.” The silver brow-ball wiggled. “Please. Don’t call me that. I’m going to be a mother.”
Sloan pressed his hand to his chest. “And I’m going to be a grandfather. God help me. Maybe you’ll learn a thing or two yourself about how hard it is to be a parent. I can only hope.” He leaned over, pressed his lips to her forehead. “Now go back to sleep. You’re sleeping for two.”
SATURDAY MORNING Brook woke, pondering the weird late-night visit from her father, and with the urgent need to pee. Definitely the worst side effect of being pregnant. Well, that and the fact that her boobs hurt like hell. Even putting on a bra was uncomfortable. But this peeitis was the pits, especially at school where the teachers didn’t want to give her too many hall passes. Eventually she’d have to tell them. The school had special programs for pregnant teens. She groaned, rolling out of bed.
Bleary-eyed from staying up until Dad had called to let her know that Jenna would be okay, Brook stumbled into the hallway and ran smack-dab into her father, clad in a pair of sweats and an old T-shirt, knocking gently on the bathroom door. “Jenna? You okay? You want me to come in there?”
A weak “no” was followed by the unmistakable sounds of ralphing.
“Eww, gross. Why is Jenna upchucking in our bathroom?” Brook asked, shifting from foot to foot. “I’ve gotta pee.”
“I guess you’ll have to use the toilet in the basement, then.”
“Ick. I told you we should have gotten a two-bath-room house. Why is she here? Did she sleep over?” Brook rapped on the door. “Jenna? You almost done? I really need to go!”
“Brook, for once, stop thinking about yourself. Jenna’s in there, sick, and all you care about is yourself. I thought you claimed Jenna was your friend?”
“Well, why can’t she puke in a garbage can or something? I can’t help it if I’m pregnant and it makes me have to pee!”
Her father’s face darkened. “And Jenna can’t help that she’s—” he stopped short, then finished “—sick, either. Have a little compassion for someone else.”
“Jeez, whatever.” Brook circled around him, heading for the basement and the horrible lopsided toilet in the laundry room that passed as the house’s half bath.
“Brook?”
She paused on the second stair. “What?”
“When you come back up, we…we need to talk.”
“Great, something to look forward to.” She whirled and continued her trip to the basement, wondering what he needed to talk about now. Hopefully it would not be a repeat of last night’s little “please don’t have an abortion” speech, since she’d already told him she wasn’t going to do that.
She flipped the basement light off and headed back into the kitchen. Was Dad going to give her a big lecture about how he’d slept on the couch last night while Jenna’d had the bed? Did they think she was stupid? She could tell they’d been “sleeping together” for a while. A woman knew these things.
Starving, she rummaged in the fridge. After a bowl of chocolate puff cereal only took the edge off, she made herself a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. With a glass of milk in one hand, and the sandwich in the other, she finally trudged back upstairs.
She hesitated a moment in her father’s doorway. Jenna was curled in his bed, tucked beneath his navy-blue comforter. Dad held a glass of clear liquid in his hand. “Just try, Jenna,” he coaxed. “You don’t want to have to go back to the hospital and have them stick an IV in you again, do you?”
Jenna shook her head.
Brook sauntered closer, chomping on the sandwich. “Man, you look horrible, Jenna,” she muttered around the peanut butter and bread gummed to the roof of her mouth.
“What’s that smell?” Jenna moaned. “Get it out of here!”
“Brook! Are you trying to make her throw up again? Take that to your room and I’ll be there in a minute.”
“I’ll be waiting breathlessly.”
“What did you say?” Her dad glanced up at her, his eyes narrowing.
“I s
aid, I’ll be waiting.” Jeez, what the hell was his problem today? Jenna was sick. So what? Big deal. She’d get over it. And he needed to. She turned and stalked from the room.
Sloan watched his daughter leave. He had no clue how his girls would react when they found out Jenna was pregnant. Shoot, Ashley didn’t even know that Brook was pregnant yet.
Jenna shifted on the bed, and he returned his attention to her. “Come on, just one teeny, tiny sip, and then I’ll leave you alone for a bit.”
“You’re annoying when you’re being considerate.”
He laughed. “Brook would tell you I’m annoying, period. Here. Just a sip.” He lifted her head and bent the straw to her lips. Satisfied when she drew in a small amount, he eased her back down to the pillow, then set the glass on the night table. “Good. That will do for now.”
Rising from the bed, he laced his hands together, lifted them over his head and stretched. The joints in his shoulders popped. “Try to get some rest. Ignore any hollering you hear from next door. I’m going to give Brook the…news.”
“News?”
“About you being pregnant? Let’s just get that over with.”
“But I don’t know—”
“Pregnant?” piped a small voice from the doorway. “You mean, like having a baby? Like Aunt Rae did?” Ashley, clad in her bathing suit, of all things, clapped her hands. “Oh, goodie! We’re having a baby!” She barreled toward the bed at full speed. Sloan reached out and caught her just as she launched herself at Jenna’s reclining form. “I won’t be the littlest anymore! Waahoo!”
“Easy, Peach.” Sloan closed his arms around his younger daughter, relief filling him. Her positive attitude was something he needed at the moment. At least someone was thrilled over this unexpected turn of events. “No jumping on Jenna right now. She’s not feeling too well.”
“Because of the baby?” Ashley squirmed, craning her head to look down at Jenna.
“I guess.”
“This is so cool. Does that mean you’re gonna be my new mom, too?” Ashley asked.
Jenna’s face went another shade paler. “Uh, uh…”
“What’s going on in here?” Brook demanded, storming back into the room, minus the offensive sandwich. “A new mom? You two are getting married and you didn’t say anything to us first? I didn’t know it was serious.”
“Well, I don’t know if we’re getting married because I haven’t had the chance to ask her yet.” Sloan winced at the flicker of fear in Jenna’s eyes. Didn’t she want to marry him?
“Jenna’s having a baby,” Ashley announced to her sister. “We’re getting a little sister. Or maybe a little brother.” She trapped Sloan’s face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “Right, Dad? It could be a brother?”
“What? Jenna’s pregnant?” Brook’s expression registered shock, which quickly twisted into anger. “You freakin’ hypocrite! You get all over me about not being careful, having sex when I shouldn’t be, and you’ve knocked up your own girlfriend! Sure, that’s doing the right thing! What’s the matter, Dad, didn’t have enough money for condoms?”
Sloan set Ashley down and whirled on his teenage daughter. “That’s enough. Let me remind you that I am the adult here—”
“Could have fooled me. Most adults are more careful when they have sex. It’s just us stupid kids who get ‘caught’!”
“I said, that’s enough. Go to your room. I’ll be in later and maybe we can have a civilized discussion about all this.”
“I doubt it.” She flipped her hair. “And you,” she said to Jenna. “Some friend you are. I knew you were screwing my dad, but this really tops it all. If you think I’m going to welcome you with open arms, think again. I don’t need a new mother! Especially not one who joins the family by accident.”
“Enough!” Sloan bellowed. Ashley squeaked and ran from the room. His arm trembled as he raised it, pointing in the direction of the door, a silent order that Brook should do likewise. Keeping his anger tightly in check, he just waited. Eventually she turned and left.
He lowered his arm with a long exhale.
A soft sound caught his attention. He looked over at Jenna. Tears trickled down her cheeks. “Aww, sugar. Don’t cry.” The headboard creaked as he sat on the bed and pulled her against his chest. “But I’m glad to see you’ve got enough moisture in you to make tears.”
She choked on a cut-off laugh. “I’m supposed to be the rosy optimist, not you.”
“You mean to tell me all this has knocked off your rose-colored glasses? You’re not having fun yet?” He sure as hell wasn’t. Two pregnant females, pumped full of whacked-out hormones, making them both even more emotional than usual.
In his head, he heard the blat, blat, blat of the Emergency Broadcast System. “This is a test,” the drill went.
Yeah, this was one doozy of a test all right, as though the universe had decided, Hey, let’s put the screws to Thompson.
A few quiet sniffles faded into his T-shirt.
He held Jenna close, resisting the automatic urge to rock her, given the way her stomach reacted to motion lately.
“I want to go home. I can’t stay here.”
“Why not?”
“Because Brook hates me now. I feel bad enough. I don’t need to be antagonizing her just by my presence.”
“I didn’t see you doing any antagonizing.” He stroked her hair, savoring the softness, the vibrancy—a vibrancy that was lacking in the rest of her. He missed that. “Tell you what, when you prove to me you can drink a whole glass of flat pop and eat some crackers and keep it all down, then you can go home. I’ll make house calls.” He shifted her away from him so he could see her better. “Damn lucky I got involved with the girl next door, huh?”
Her bottom lip quivered. “I guess.”
Retrieving the glass from the night table, he held it out to her. She accepted it, took a small sip, then wrinkled her nose. “Blah. I hate flat soda.”
Downstairs, the doorbell rang. Sloan cursed. “Now what?” He rose. “I’ll be right back. You see if you can’t get more of that into your stomach.”
Jenna closed her eyes as he left the room. Damn him and his Texas-size mouth. She felt more trapped now than she had when she’d seen the positive test stick. Little Ashley had been so excited about the idea of a baby brother or sister.
And Brook…
Jenna hadn’t expected the teen to turn on her like that. But given how hard she’d been trying to get her father’s attention, Jenna could see how this would tick her off. She’d probably be ticked off, too, in the same situation.
Still, it felt like Sloan had forced her into the position of having this baby after all. How did you explain to a seven-year-old that you’d decided having her little sister was a bad idea so you’d simply…
Bile and flat ginger ale rose up in her throat, and Jenna threw back the covers, dashing for the bathroom.
WHEN SLOAN OPENED the front door, his sister bustled into the house, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek. In her arms, Jamey looked like some kind of weird winter scarecrow, his arms and legs sticking out, stiff and bulky, in a powder-blue snowsuit. Molly and James followed on her heels, and Sloan’s father brought up the rear. “What’s going on?” Sloan asked over Jamey’s loud cries as they shed their coats. “Not that I’m not glad to see y’all—” Okay, so he wasn’t really. They were the last thing he needed at this very moment. “But why are you here?”
Rachel laid Jamey on the couch, opening the zippers on his suit. She glanced over her shoulder at Sloan. “You forgot, didn’t you? I’m taking the girls and Jamey to Splash Lagoon today, and you and Dad are taking James to the shooting range to teach him how to handle that pistol he just had to have.”
“Splash Lagoon, right.” The trip to the indoor water park explained Ashley’s mode of dress.
“You did forget,” Rae accused.
“Uh, well—”
“So what if he forgot, honey?” James said. “We’re here now
to remind him.”
A pair of feet tromped down the stairs. Ashley stopped halfway down. “Hey, Molly! Hey, Aunt Rae!” She did a little wiggle. “Check out my bathing suit. I’m ready to go.”
“That’s great, Ashley. Did Brook decide if she’s coming with us or not?” Rachel peeled the snowsuit from Jamey, whose sobs quieted as she hefted him against her shoulder.
“Brook’s in a mood,” his younger daughter announced, as if that were some big news flash to the family. “She says she hates you, Dad, and she’s never speaking to you again.”
“I should be so lucky,” Sloan muttered, earning him a sharp look from his father.
“Oh, and Jenna’s throwing up again, and she said she’s not real happy with you right now, either.”
Every pair of adult eyes in the living room snapped to him. Rae arched an eyebrow. “Jenna’s here?”
“Yeah. She’s…sick. I had to take her to the E.R. last night. I couldn’t very well let her go home alone, could I?”
“Jenna’s sick because of the baby! I’m gonna be a big sister!” Ashley shouted, descending the last few stairs.
Sloan resisted the urge to put a hand over his own stomach, which didn’t feel so well right now, either.
His father shook his head.
Sloan cleared his throat. “Well, now that that polecat’s outta the bag, I suppose I ought to tell you about the other one. Brook’s pregnant, too.”
If not for Jamey’s cries, the room would have been absolutely silent as they stared at him. Then everyone started talking at once. Bits and pieces filtered through the chaos. “This family needs better instruction on proper condom use,” his father muttered.
“Oh, Sloan.” Rae’s eyes filled with concern as she set her son on the floor, then came to offer Sloan a hug.
“Cool,” Molly chirped, grabbing Ashley’s hand. “You’ll be a big sister and an aunt. Being a big sister is neat. Well, except for the stinky diapers.”
“Oh, ick!” Ashley pinched her nose shut.
James just gave him a slap on the shoulder and an expression that said he was available for consultations.