A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal

by Teresa Carpenter

  The ride back to Ellis Island seemed twice as long as the trip over. On the other hand she barely felt the cold, because she was trapped in her head.

  Excitement and anxiety played tug-of-war with her emotions.

  She didn’t know what she wanted his reaction to be. Excitement, of course. But with his history she knew that was a lot to expect. She wanted him to be pleased, to start thinking of a future together.

  Heavens, did she want a future together? Until yesterday she’d still been contemplating sole custody.

  Don’t get ahead of yourself, girl, her head warned her heart.

  Finally the boat arrived at Ellis Island. As the group neared the building Lauren turned to their guides and upped the wattage of her smile. “Would it be okay for us to just wander around on our own for a few minutes?”

  “Of course.” Ranger Paceco offered his hand. “I’ll leave you to your wanderings. If you need me, just have one of the rangers call me.”

  “You’ve been very helpful.” Ray shook his hand. “I should have come over more when I was a kid.”

  “Sometimes we need age to appreciate things. Take care, now.” He nodded and took his leave.

  “I’ll meet you at the chopper in forty minutes,” Felton said. He already had his phone in his hand as he walked toward a bench.

  “Nice move, Randall.” Ray draped an arm around her shoulders. “I was beginning to feel crowded.” He nuzzled his nose into her hair. “Mmm. You smell good.” Moving toward the building, he asked her, “So, do you have family that came through Ellis Island?”

  “My great-great-grandfather on my father’s side. He was six when he came over from England in 1908.”

  “Cool. Mamó’s grandmother came over from Ireland. Hey, I’m pretty sure that was 1908. Maybe they stood in line at the same time?”

  “It’s a romantic notion.” She eyed his profile through her lashes. “And I can see a story brewing in that head of yours. This trip is getting to you. You don’t usually do relationship movies.”

  “It’s good to stretch yourself. What are you doing?” He stopped when she tried to direct him toward a bench in the sun. “The entrance is that way.”

  “I know. I need to talk to you.”

  At the bench her knees gave out and she gratefully sank down on the stone seat.

  “I have something to tell you.”

  “Are you okay?” Dropping down next to her, he tucked a wisp of hair behind her ear. “You’ve gone pale.”

  “I’m fine.” She gathered his hands in hers, hoped he wouldn’t feel the tremors through her gloves, and looked at them rather than at him. This should be easier. Shouldn’t it be easy to tell the father of her child?

  “Lauren, what is it? You’re shaking.” He wrapped her hands in both of his and rubbed them to generate warmth.

  “You’ll be shaking in a moment.”

  “Now you’re scaring me. Just tell me.”

  Deep breath...slow release. She looked into his concerned blue eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

  Shock knocked him back. A flash of joy, and then his expression closed down. His eyes narrowed and he looked out over the water.

  “A baby.”

  His flat tone revealed nothing.

  “That explains your upset stomach. And your refusal of wine and coffee. How long have you known?”

  “S-Since the wedding.” Hating the shake in her voice, she cleared her throat, tried for more confidence. “I did an early pregnancy test that morning. I would have confirmed it with my doctor this week, except I’ve been here.”

  He stood, thrust his hands in his pockets. “So you’ve known for four days and you haven’t said anything?”

  He made it sound unreasonable. “It was unexpected. I needed time to think.”

  Anguish flashed across his face.

  “No!” Her heart constricted in a punishing vice, she jumped to her feet, rushed to him, placed a reassuring hand on him arm. “Not about aborting the child. I’d never make that choice.”

  “Then what was there to think about?” he demanded. “What was more important than telling me I’m going to be a father?” He pinned her with a hard gaze. “I’m supposing I am the father?”

  Wow. She retreated a step, then two.

  “Yes, of course.” Offended, she fisted her hands at her sides. “Are you questioning your paternity?”

  “I remember the broken condom.” He turned away, ran a shaking hand through thick hair. “Though my attorney will want a paternity test. I can’t believe this. I must have super-swimmers. You should have told me, Lauren. All week we’ve been together. On the plane, at Mamó’s.” He scrubbed his face. “Hell, last night I poured my heart out to you about the child I lost.”

  “Right—and I was supposed to break into the middle of that story with By the way I’m pregnant?” She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold herself together as his words tore her apart. “It wasn’t the time. This week hasn’t been the time. You’ve been worried about your grandmother, dealing with the whole fake engagement thing, as well as this siting business. I didn’t even know about the trauma of confronting your past.”

  This was a mistake, she thought. I should have waited.

  The backs of her knees hit the stone bench again. She sank down. She’d known after his revelation last night that he’d have a hard time with her news. She hadn’t expected him to be thrilled, but after their time together here in New York she hadn’t expected him to be hurtful either.

  He came to stand over her. “If you’re expecting a proposal, think again. I’m not eighteen anymore.”

  “I’m not expecting anything from you.” A slide to the left gained her some breathing room. “I’m a successful, professional woman. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself and my child.”

  “Your child.” He dropped down next to her, but half turned away. “I get it now. You weren’t going to tell me.”

  “Don’t be so dramatic. Hollywood is too small to hide a pregnancy. Of course I was going to tell you.”

  “When?”

  “Why do you care?”

  “What?” He pinned her with an astounded stare over his shoulder.

  “You’ve made it clear you’re not interested in the baby.” No need to cast a feature film to get that point across. “Fine with me. Consider yourself uninvited to the party.”

  “Seriously? You’re going to pout because I didn’t get down on one knee?”

  “No, I’m going to live my life around my child. I’m not a self-important prima donna, too worried about protecting myself to know if I’m happy about being a parent or not.”

  She needed to get away from him. Now.

  On her feet, she faced him. “Keep your ring. I never wanted it anyway.” She hiked her chin toward the helicopter. “You should go on with your tour. I’m going to hang out here for a couple of hours.”

  Gaze locked on the entrance to the huge brick building, she put one foot in front of the other. She just needed to get inside before she broke down. No way was she giving him the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  After a few steps he grabbed her arm. “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

  “You don’t have a choice,” she informed him. “I’m all grown up, Ray. I can make my own decisions and get myself home.” She glared pointedly at his hand on her arm.

  He released her. “Why?”

  “Because you’re not responsible for me.”

  “No, why did you tell me now when you had no plan to do so?”

  “You scared me.” Giving him half the truth, she waved toward the statue towering in the distance. “I thought you should know you had a kid before you did something foolhardy and died.”

  “Listen, come with me.” His hand dropped away. “I’m not hand
ling this well, and I’m sorry. I need time to process everything.”

  “And we both know you’ll process better without me. I’ll see you back at Mamó’s.

  “Okay.” He gave a gruff nod. “I’ll arrange for a car to pick you up at Battery Park. I’ll text you with the information. They’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

  Home. Could the driver take her to Hollywood?

  It was where she longed to be—curled up on her couch with her grandma’s quilt tucked around her, surrounded by familiar things, with her sister next door and her mother on the other end of the phone.

  The fantasy burst, an impossible dream.

  “Thanks,” she said, for once happy with his need to manipulate every situation. Then she continued toward the entrance, not wanting to watch him walk away.

  She needn’t have worried. She barely saw the doors through the tears blurring her vision.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Staying over in the suite tonight.

  LAUREN STARED AT the text, numb both inside and out. Apparently she was supposed to process the fact she was pregnant immediately and then go on to share the news with him, but he needed most of the day and the night, too.

  “Ray isn’t coming home, is he?” Mamó set a tray on the coffee table and settled into her chair next to the couch, where Lauren sat trying to reproduce the image of home she’d created earlier.

  “No. Business is keeping him in the city, so he’s going to stay at the hotel again.”

  “You don’t have to cover for him, dear.” Mamó leaned forward to pour steaming liquid into a sturdy mug. “I made hot cocoa.” Heaping spoons full of whipped cream followed. “I thought you could use the pick-me-up.”

  It was just the thing. “Thank you.” Lauren accepted the mug, drank a small sip. The heat and the chocolate sent warmth and comfort rolling through her. “Mmm. Perfect.”

  “You told him, didn’t you?”

  “Mmm,” Lauren hummed. She had too much pride to bad-mouth the woman’s grandson in her own home. “He’s processing.”

  “He didn’t take it well.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Let’s say he was shocked.” The truth, and yet far short of everything.

  Mamó nodded. “Which translates to being a jerk.”

  “I’ll stick with shocked.” Lauren sighed. “Now I’ve calmed down I recognize I was a tad hormonal and perhaps overly sensitive.”

  “All the more reason for him to take care of you.” Sadness tugged at the corners of Mamó’s eyes and her lips trembled as she sipped from her cup. “He’s never cared much for surprises. I blame losing his parents at such a young age.”

  Lauren remembered the shock and horror of losing her high school friend to suicide in their senior year. It had consumed her whole world for months. How much worse would it be to lose family? To lose both parents at the same time?

  “I don’t even want to imagine the pain he must have experienced. And then Camilla pulled her heartless stunt. It’s understandable he dislikes surprises.”

  Unfortunately she knew of no other way to deliver news of a baby. Especially an unplanned pregnancy.

  “He told you about Camilla?” Surprise chased despair from Mamó’s face. “He’s never told anyone, as far as I know. Not even Ellie. I had to piece parts of it together myself.”

  “It’s not a pretty story.”

  “Far from it. I was so proud of him. I knew how much he wanted to go to UCLA, how hard he’d worked for the Stahling Award. But he set aside his future in Hollywood for a future with his family. It was the smart thing, the responsible thing to do. It shattered him when he realized Camilla had murdered his child to mortgage her own career.”

  “Murdered...?” Lauren murmured. He hadn’t used the word last night, but it sounded like Ray. It was very telling.

  “His word.” Mamó unknowingly confirmed it. “Most men would have been happy to get out of a forced marriage. Ray was committed from the beginning. I know my boy. I read all those tabloids where they call him a confirmed bachelor, and say how he prizes his privacy. They’ve got him all wrong. The truth is he has a big heart. He’s just learned to guard it carefully.”

  “He’s afraid of being hurt again.” Lauren related to that sentiment. Better to be alone than to give up a part of your soul.

  “You’re different.”

  That caught Lauren’s attention. “What do you mean?”

  “The way he is with you. It’s different from when he’s with other women. He doesn’t just look at you—he watches you as if he can’t look away.”

  “Really?” She cringed a little at the hope in her voice.

  “This isn’t an easy time for either of you. I implore you to give him a chance. Your little ones deserve to have both parents in their lives.”

  “Lives?” Lauren croaked.

  “Yes, dear. You’re having twins.”

  * * *

  Mamó says twins.

  Ray read Lauren’s text over and over. Twins. Hell. This was news he could have waited to hear. He couldn’t stop thinking, wondering, worrying. Any minute now his head would implode.

  When he couldn’t take another second he went on the move. He rented a car, took the 87 in the Bronx and headed north. Blowing by Albany, he chased the Catskills, his mood black.

  He took a curve, low and tight, and came out on a straightway. Punching the accelerator, he raced through the night, going faster than he should in an act Lauren would no doubt consider foolhardy.

  His foot lowered, squeezing out a little more speed.

  He was an adult. The last thing he needed was a woman telling him how to act.

  The rental handled well, but his plan to go for a drive in order to get away from his thoughts wasn’t working out. Okay, it was a flawed plan. Where his head went, his thoughts followed. And, no matter how hard he tried to focus on something else, his mind kept wrapping back to Lauren and the babies she carried.

  He tried thinking about his upcoming film and the sites he’d seen today, but honestly he didn’t remember much after the bomb she’d dropped.

  Mamó’s condition couldn’t even hold his attention. And the industry awards scheduled a few days away barely blipped on his radar—which peeved him, because he really wanted to sweep the season and this was the biggie. Not since his first film had he hit the trifecta of awards. To do so again would prove he had staying power.

  Was it just yesterday he’d asked Lauren to go with him? This week stretched out forever in his head.

  He ground his teeth, mad at the world, mad at himself, mad at Lauren, mad at life.

  Mad at the world because, seriously, why him? The first time had completely undone him. He might not survive a second time.

  Mad at himself because of the way he’d managed to muck things up. He wasn’t handling it well, but he couldn’t get a grip.

  Mad at Lauren because she was the one doing this to him. No matter how cockeyed that thinking was. Which only added guilt to the mix as well. Hello.

  Mad at life for the whole mix.

  And now twins.

  It only made the situation worse to hear the news here in New York, after spending half a week mired in memories he’d spent fifteen years burying skull-deep.

  He slowed for another curve, flinched as headlights hit him in the eyes. It was the first traffic he’d encountered in a while—not surprising, considering the late hour on a work night. Soon he’d have to think about turning around and heading back to the hotel.

  It might be a cop-out, but no way could he face cuddling up in his old bedroom with Lauren. At the same time he’d miss having her in his bed. It didn’t make sense, yet it was one of the loops his head kept tracking.

  That and memories of that horrific summer. He’d been shocked and de
vastated when Camilla had broken the news. He’d tried to hold it together, but in the end he’d bolted.

  It had crushed his spirit to give up on UCLA, but he’d seen no other choice. The kid had to come first. How idealistic he’d been. But even in retrospect he couldn’t see playing his hand any differently.

  Except to wear a damn condom.

  Resentment festered. Why did this keep happening to him?

  He felt victimized, and yet there was no fault here. They’d had protected sex. Hell, he’d been the one to provide the condom that broke.

  Fighting off weariness, he rolled his neck, stretching muscles, working out kinks. He owed Lauren a better apology. More, he owed her his support. She was just as much a victim as him. Yet deep down he couldn’t help feeling as if she’d done this to him.

  Because she’d kept the news from him.

  He’d deserved to know as soon as she knew. The babies might be in her body, but they were as much a part of him as they were of her. He had rights, damn it. Being the last one to know, having no say in decisions, didn’t sit well with him. How could he protect his children when he didn’t know what was going on?

  Anger lashed at his nerves.

  Back to being mad at himself, because he couldn’t stop being upset with Lauren. She might have been blameless in the conception, but she had withheld the news, taken the power of knowledge from him. Tried to push him away. Still was, come to that. Who knew how long she would have taken to tell him if Mamó’s depression hadn’t pushed them together?

  Well, Lauren needed to adjust her thinking. He might be a perpetual bachelor, but he was damned if he’d be a sperm donor. If he’d fathered a baby—babies!—he’d be a part of his children’s lives.

  And, no, he didn’t doubt the babies were his.

  He knew Lauren—knew her integrity and the value of family to her. Never in a million years would she play false with the paternity of her child.

  And she’d never hurt her child. Children. He believed that completely.