by Susan Gable
“Just one thing—don’t tell Dad.”
“Brook, I don’t like keeping things from your father. It’s not right.”
“Look, I don’t want to get his hopes up. Not until we find out if I can be around Robbie. And if you and I can get along again. Because you know as soon as he finds out I’m over here at all, he’s going to want us to be doing stuff together.”
“All right. I don’t like it, but I’ll do it. I don’t want your father hurt any more than he’s been, either.”
In the days that followed, Brook showed up often after school, returning home before Sloan got off work. Awkward at first, the relationship between Jenna and the teen slowly regained some lost ground. And Brook spent more time cuddling Robbie, only once breaking down in tears—on a day she’d received a new picture of Emma from the Richards.
Two weeks later, on a Friday afternoon, Brook followed Jenna into the office. Robbie wailed in his mother’s arms. Jenna motioned toward a chair as she sank into the other herself, unbuttoning the top of her blouse. The teen chose to prop her butt on the edge of the desk.
Like a starving beast that hadn’t been fed in ages, Robbie latched onto Jenna’s breast with an eagerness that had Brook exclaiming, “Whoa! Now that looks like it hurts worse than the milk drying up did.”
“Nah. He’s just enthusiastic, that’s all.”
“Typical guy, huh?”
Jenna laughed. How she’d missed this kind of conversation with the young woman. “I guess. Yes, at this point, I’d say your brother is definitely a breast man.”
“Be interesting to see how that pans out when he’s older.” Brook picked up a pair of pliers from the desk, opening and closing them. “Look, I have to talk to you about something.”
Jenna readjusted her son. “Okay. So, what’s on your mind?”
“The day Dad brought you and Robbie home from the hospital, after he’d come back to our house…well, late that night I went down to the kitchen for something to eat. And I saw Dad on the back steps. He was staring over here at your place. He had the strangest expression on his face. It took me a minute to realize he was crying.”
“Oh.” Though Jenna had held him while he wept over his grandbaby going home with another family, she’d never imagined he’d shed tears over her and Robbie. That hurt in an unexpected way. Another reminder that love wasn’t all sunshine and roses, but came with a sometimes bitter, sometimes painful side.
“He’s been running around like a nutcase lately. He’s trying to be there for me and for Ashley, and he’s doing his damnedest to be there for you and Robbie, too. He’s torn between our place and your place. And he’s not laughing anymore.” Brook nailed her with a penetrating, no-holds-barred gaze. “Do you love my dad?”
“Yes. I do.”
“And Ashley?”
Jenna nodded.
“Okay, then—”
“Brook, you didn’t ask about yourself.”
The hard-edged attitude in Brook’s eyes softened for a second. “I’m not that self-centered anymore. I don’t matter.”
“Oh, Brook. That’s where you’re wrong. You matter a lot. In fact, I think you matter the most, and yes, I do love you. Otherwise I wouldn’t have cared what you thought or felt about me and your dad.”
“Really?” Her voice cracked, and she cleared her throat and gave her hair a nonchalant toss. “Cool. Well, then, I’d like to invite you and Robbie for dinner tonight.”
“Uh, sure. We’d like that.” She looked down at her son drowsing at her breast. “I’ll bring Robbie’s dinner with me, okay?”
A half smile just like her dad’s appeared on Brook’s lips. “I’d like to see you try to leave Robbie’s dinner behind.”
“Does your father know about this?”
“Nope. Just like he doesn’t know that I’ve been coming over here. We’re going to surprise him.”
SLOAN TOSSED a quick glance over his shoulder as he headed toward the house from the garage. The trees along the fence had begun to shed their leaves, making it easier to see Jenna’s building.
He sent Jenna and their son a mental love note and a promise to stop by as soon as he had things settled over here.
In the kitchen, he peeled off his coat and inhaled. “Hey, something smells great. What’s for dinner?”
Brook appeared in the doorway to the dining room. “Fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, coleslaw.”
“Biscuits?”
“Yep.”
“You didn’t cook all that?” He lifted a white-and-red bag from the counter, arching an eyebrow at her.
“No, it’s takeout. But still, I get credit for dinner, right?”
“Absolutely.” He squirted some dish soap into his hands and washed up at the kitchen sink. A beautiful pencil sketch Brook had done of Emma hung on the refrigerator. The form was well detailed and damn near perfect, at least in his eyes, but more impressive was the amount of emotion that came through in the work. Jenna had been right about Brook’s talent, and he’d encouraged her to take more art classes at school this year. He found it hard to look at the drawing every day, but Brook wanted it in the middle of the family action. It seemed she was handling Emma’s adoption better than he was.
Still drying his hands on the tattered towel from the stove handle, he went into the dining room to find the table set with proper plates and silverware, the steaming bucket of chicken making an appetizing centerpiece.
Then he noticed the table was set for four. “We having company?”
Brook nodded. “Yes, we are.”
Ashley’s giggling from the living room gave her away. “Come in here, Peach. I hear you.”
Something held behind her back, she skipped into view, sliding into her seat at the table. Whatever she was hiding went under her leg. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hi, yourself.” Sloan sat down. “Well, when will this mysterious guest be here? I’m starving.”
“Close your eyes,” Brook told him.
“What? Come on, Brook, I’m in no mood for games tonight. I need to eat dinner and get everyone settled so I can go over to Jenna’s.”
“Da-ad. It’s Family Fun Night tonight. Did you forget?” Ashley’s face drooped. “You promised we could have it again tonight. We haven’t had it in forever!”
Sloan’s cheeks warmed. “You’re absolutely right, Peach. I’m sorry. Life’s been so crazy lately. Let Family Fun Night begin.” He’d make it up to Jenna later. He glanced at the extra place at the table. “So, why are we having a guest? Family Fun Night is supposed to be reserved for family, with very few exceptions.”
“Exactly my point,” Brook said. “Now close your eyes.”
Sloan did as she asked. After all, the sooner this started, the sooner it finished, and the sooner he saw the other part of his family. He wondered if poor Jenna felt like a leper, forced to keep her distance. And how would Robbie feel once he was old enough to understand?
The chair on the other side of the table scuffed against the wooden floor as Mystery Guest settled in.
“Okay, you can open your eyes.”
He did, prepared to act surprised.
But he didn’t have to act. His eyebrows headed for his hairline and he tried not to gape like a goldfish out of water. Jenna, their son cradled in her arms, sat across from him.
Ashley squealed, clapping her hands and bouncing in her seat. “Surprise, Daddy! Look who’s coming to Family Fun Night! And I didn’t give away the secret!”
“No, Peach, you sure didn’t.”
Jenna smiled at him, then looked toward Brook. He followed her lead. “Brook? Did you set this up?”
She nodded.
“Thank you. This is a wonderful surprise.” He held out his hand to her, and she came forward, taking it. “What brought this on?”
“You deserve it. Both of you. Actually, all three of you. Ashley deserves it, too. I’ve been acting like a selfish brat.” Letting go of his hand, she walked over to Jenna. “Can I have him?”
Sloan watched in awe as his oldest child held his infant son in her arms.
“My therapist says sometimes facing the things that you think will hurt the most can be healing. Aunt Rae told me the same thing. She also said Thompsons are tough. That we suck it up and carry on. She told me a war story about Grandpa, and lacing boots tighter. Anyway, I know I’m always going to hurt over Emma. But it’s not fair for my hurt to get in the way of all of you being happy. Us being happy,” she clarified after a sharp, pained look from Jenna. Brook rocked the baby, who stared up at his big sister, waving his hands in the air. “So, I figured it was time to fix this. Ashley?”
Ashley climbed from her chair, retrieving the hidden item from under her leg. She placed a sheet of red construction paper in front of Jenna. Then she scrambled to the sideboard, opening a drawer. She clasped something in her hands, something he couldn’t see until she added that to the plate.
A familiar green velvet box.
His stomach jumped.
Jenna’s eyes widened as she scanned the card, then opened it and read the inside. “Brook? Are you sure about this?”
Brook nodded. “Yeah.”
Jenna passed the card to Sloan, then picked up the box. Torn between watching her with a gift he’d never truly expected to give her—how the hell had the girls known about that, anyway?—and finding out what was going on, he peeked at the card front. In Ashley’s slanted print, in purple crayon, it read, “Plese mary are Dad.”
“Wh-what’s this?” Jenna asked, holding out the box like it smelled funny.
“That’s something Dad bought for you a few days after he found out you were pregnant.”
The box creaked as she opened it. She gasped, and a pink flush tinted her cheeks.
“Brook?” Jenna said. “Are you sure about this?”
She nodded, drawing the baby closer. “I’m not going to call you Mom, but—”
“I want to!” Ashley interjected. “I’m going to call her Mom if she marries us! Molly calls Aunt Rae Mom now.”
Looking befuddled, Jenna turned her attention back to Sloan. Heart beating fast, he rose from his chair, waving his hands over his head and shaking his butt from side to side. Not exactly the most original mating dance, but hopefully one that would win him the girl. Ashley giggled behind him, and Brook rolled her eyes. “Dad, what are you doing?”
He maneuvered around the table, coming to a stop in front of Jenna. “I’m dancing, Brook. Don’t you know happy dancing when you see it? I realize we’re not at the bowling alley…” He knelt down, taking Jenna’s hand in his. “Well, sugar. Looks like the tribe has offered their opinions on the subject. So, will you marry me? Make us all one big family? What do you say?”
Like dawn breaking after a long stormy night, a smile slid into place on her face. “Yes. I say yes, Tex.”
Sloan jumped up, pulling her out of the chair and into his tight embrace. “Great. Now we can have our cake and eat it, too.”
“I think you mean we can have our steak and potatoes, and our dessert, don’t you?”
“I thought we were having fried chicken,” Ashley said.
He laughed, deep and hard, sending warmth straight to the center of his chest. When Jenna joined in, he knew he’d managed to not only survive this life test, but ace it.
And his life—their lives—were going to be so much richer for it.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-2449-0
THE PREGNANCY TEST
Copyright © 2005 by Susan Guadagno.
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