by Various
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.
“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.
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“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 going 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.
After everyone had taken their fill of dinner and dessert, Maggie hit them with the purpose of this entire evening.
“Jorge and I have an announcement.”
Jorge took her hand across the table, and Ryan’s eyes narrowed at the sight.
“We’re getting married. The third Saturday in September. It was the earliest the church was available, and Jorge really wanted a church wedding.”
Jorge and Maggie looked lovingly into each other’s eyes.
“Omigod!” Liz blurted.
“Congratulations,” Shane said slowly.
“That’s less than a month away,” Trav said. “It’s so…wow.”
“You!” Ryan stood and jabbed a finger at Jorge. “You think you can just take advantage of an old lady, move into her house, and take over? You think she’ll leave you the house? Put you in the will?” He leaned menacingly across the table. “I won’t have it.” His fist pounded the table for emphasis, and the dishes clattered.
Liz blinked. She’d never seen him angry. It was intimidating. She glanced at Jorge, who remained calmly seated.
“Ryan, cool it,” Shane said.
“You won’t have it?” Maggie’s voice rose in volume, matching her oldest grandson’s. “No one asked you. Jorge and I are in love.”
Jorge kissed Maggie’s hand. “It’s true. And I’m not trying to get her house. That never even crossed my mind. We just want to be together. Your grandmother makes me happy.”
Aww…so sweet. They all looked to Ryan to see how he took that announcement.
Ryan shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “Gran, you’ve known this bozo for what, a month? And now you’re going to marry him?”
“He’s not a bozo!” Maggie exclaimed hotly.
Jorge placed a soothing hand on her arm. “It’s okay, love.”
“No, it’s not okay!” Maggie glared at Ryan.
“Sorry,” Ryan said, not sounding all that sorry. “All I’m saying is, what’s the rush? Be reasonable, take things slow.”
“Ryan is right. There’s no rush,” Trav interjected. “It’s not like you’re pregnant.”
Liz sucked in an audible breath, and Ryan looked at her for a long moment. She turned her attention back to Maggie.
“In case you forgot, I’m seventy-two years old.” Maggie lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t have time to take things slow. Jorge already spends most nights here—”
“Great,” Ryan muttered.
“And he makes me happy,” Maggie continued. “I want to see him when I go to bed at night and when I wake up in the morning.”
“Maggie,” Jorge murmured. “Mi amor.”
Ryan glared at Jorge, then turned to Liz. “Did you know about this?”
Liz swallowed. “I knew they were close.”
Ryan turned to Shane.
“I knew they were close too,” Shane said, “but—”
“Why am I the last to know anything around here!” Ryan exploded.
Trav raised a hand. “I didn’t know.”
Ryan’s stormy expression said that didn’t help.
Liz spoke up. “I’m happy for Maggie, though I agree it’s sudden.”
“I’m happy for you too, Gran,” Shane said.
Trav nodded his agreement.
Ryan’s mouth opened and closed. With nothing left to say, he stormed out of the house.
Maggie turned to Jorge. “That went about as well as I expected.”
“We’ll clean up, Gran,” Shane said, jerking his head at Trav to grab some dishes. The two disappeared into the kitchen while Jorge comforted Maggie.
“I’ll help too,” Liz said, rising from the table.
“No, you’re a guest,” Maggie insisted. “You just relax.”
“Are you sure?” Liz asked.
“We’ve got this,” Shane called.
“I’d love for you to be my maid of honor, Liz,” Maggie said.
“Of course I will!” Liz crossed to Maggie and hugged her. “Congratulations, you two. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you, dear,” Maggie said.
Trav appeared in the dining room. “Can you smooch Ryan out of his bad mood?”
“Go see him, honey,” Maggie urged. “You’re probably the only one he’d talk to right now.”
“Okay,” Liz said uncertainly. She had no idea what she’d say to him. “Thank you for dinner.” She headed outside, and in the lingering light of a late sunset, she caught a glimpse of Ryan stalking down the sidewalk toward his house. “Wait up!”
He kept going.
She hurried down the sidewalk. “Ryan!”
No response. The man could move when he wanted to.
“I said wait up, you blockhead!” she yelled.
That got him. He stopped and slowly turned around. Then he marched back toward her. She met him halfway.
“Did you just call me a blockhead?” he asked through clenched teeth.
“Not me. I called you a reasonable, devoted grandson.�
�� She held back a smile.
He crossed his arms and fixed her with an annoyed stare. “Don’t expect me to be happy that Gran is shacking up with her dance teacher.”
Okay, she understood it was a shock. He hadn’t been at dance class to see how they were together. How they danced together so beautifully. The adoring looks. Their chemistry.
She put a comforting hand on his arm. “Don’t you want her to be happy? She told me she’s been a widow for more than twenty years. She finally found someone. I don’t think Jorge will take advantage of her.”
“You don’t know that! That house is worth something. What if he convinces her to sign it over to him? What if he steals her social security checks?”
“He said he loves her,” Liz said. “I think it’s beautiful.”
“And you.” He jabbed a finger in her direction. “Leaving me hanging all week”—he gestured wildly—“not returning my calls. What is that, Liz?”
“I texted you,” she said in a small voice. But she knew she was in the wrong. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t talk about it.”
Some of the anger seemed to go out of him. He stepped close, smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”
She stepped back, resisting his warm touch. She was too emotional, too conflicted over her simultaneous longing for the pregnancy since her nephew’s arrival and her terror over the complications of raising a child that he didn’t want. “I’m fine. Really.”
He studied her. “Well, good. I admit I’ve been scared shitless all week. Just let me know as soon as you know. Okay?”
Her fears were confirmed. He didn’t want children. This entire fling had been a huge mistake.
“Okay?” he prompted at her silence.
She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.
He looked off down the street toward his house and turned back to her. “You want to come over?”
Bad idea. She was in no mood for casual sex. They’d passed casual on the way to a pregnancy test.
She shook her head. “I’m pretty tired so—”
“We don’t have to…we could just, you know, hang out.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
“Not tonight, okay? I’ll see you later.” And even though it was painful, she turned away.