by Lisa Dyson
“Do you have a plan B?” Roxie asked.
“Yes. I told him that if he didn’t give permission for adoption, then he would have to raise the baby on his own.”
Amber gasped, as she was the only one who hadn’t heard this latest piece of news. They all stopped eating. “Did he agree to that?” she asked.
Before Bree could answer, Roxie posed a question of her own. “Do you think you’d be okay living this close to your child and not being involved in its life?”
Roxie could tell from Bree’s startled look that she hadn’t taken that into consideration.
Bree was saved from answering the question by her ringing phone.
“We’ll be waiting for your answer when you get back,” Roxie reminded Bree as she left the room.
Amber leaned in and whispered to Hannah and Roxie, “Do you think we’re getting through to her?”
“Even if she gets that how she’s handling the situation isn’t healthy,” Roxie replied quietly, “there’s really nothing we can do to change the situation.”
“There has to be something,” Hannah insisted. “We can’t just give up.”
They ate in silence as they waited for Bree’s return to the table.
“Well, this day just keeps getting better and better,” Bree said as she slowly took her seat. “I hired a private investigator after I learned I was pregnant. I decided that I needed to find my mother and figure out if this child is inheriting any medical issues. Well, it turns out he keeps hitting dead ends.”
“Your mother?” Hannah’s eyes grew wide. “You want to find her, after all these years?”
“I do. I’d always assumed she’d died when she didn’t show up on my twenty-first birthday, and now it seems I might have been right all along.” Sarcasm oozed from Bree’s words. “But my PI can’t even find proof of her death.” She looked down at her food, not touching it and not saying anything more.
“I’m sorry, Bree,” Hannah said softly.
“You’ve had a tough day,” Roxie stated, as if they didn’t all know it already. “Why don’t you eat some dinner and we’ll clean up and leave so you can get some rest.”
As if Roxie hadn’t spoken, Bree said, “I guess if she’d wanted to be found, then she’d have made it easier. It’s as if she’s disappeared from the face of the earth.”
No one said anything, waiting for her to continue.
Bree began to rise from the table without eating another bite. As she pushed in her chair, she said, “Please excuse me. I’m going to take Roxie up on her suggestion and go to bed. Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.” Bree headed to her bedroom and shut the door with more force than necessary.
Hannah stood up, gathering her plate and anything else she could carry. “Come on, let’s clean up and leave. She needs to rest. She’s going to end up back in the hospital with the way this day has gone.”
Roxie couldn’t agree more.
In all the years they’d known each other, Roxie couldn’t remember a time when Bree hadn’t been in absolute control of every aspect of her life.
Until now.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WHEN HE ASKED Pete to meet him at a bar in Old Town, Nick was pretty sure there wasn’t enough alcohol in the building to make him forget what a lousy day it had been.
“Hey, buddy, what’s up?” Pete clapped Nick on the shoulder as he arrived at the bar and sat down next to Nick.
“This has been one hell of a day,” Nick told him, emptying his beer glass and lifting it to get the bartender’s attention.
“I’ll have what he’s having,” Pete told the bartender when she came to refill Nick’s glass. “Tell me about it,” Pete said to Nick. “What happened?”
Nick breathed in and out. “Bree’s pregnant.”
“Good for her,” Pete said, without realizing what Nick was telling him. “So what’s that got to do with you?”
Nick lifted his glass as if to make a toast. “Congratulate me. I’m going to be a dad.” He took a long swallow, realizing that Pete was staring at him. Nick swallowed his mouthful and sputtered, “Shut your mouth, dude.”
Pete did so and then drank half of his beer at once. He set down the glass. “I didn’t even realize you’d been with her—or anyone. Not since you and Tracy broke up.”
Nick nodded. “On the island.”
“Ah! That explains why you’ve hesitated asking for her financial help.” He took another swallow of beer. “You’re sure she’s pregnant? Sometimes those pee tests give false positives.”
“If only that were the case. Nope, she had a blood test. Run twice, apparently. No mistakes there.” He raised a finger, realizing he was well on his way to being drunk. “In fact, she had an ultrasound today. No denying it now.” He filled Pete in on calling for an ambulance when they were at Gabriella’s restaurant and how he actually found out by accident that she was pregnant.
“She wasn’t going to tell you?” Pete shook his head. “That’s rough, man. So now what? You’re not going to get married or anything, are you?”
“It’s not that simple. She doesn’t want to raise a child, says she’d make a terrible mother. So she plans on putting the baby up for adoption.”
“Adoption?” Pete seemed to let that sink in. He shrugged. “You know, maybe that’s the best option. You barely know Bree and if she doesn’t even want to raise it—”
“I told her I wouldn’t agree to adoption.” Nick set his glass down too hard on the bar, causing several patrons to look their way.
“Okay. So then what?”
Nick swallowed. “She told me that if I didn’t agree to adoption, then I could raise the baby on my own.”
Pete’s eyes grew wide. “You can’t do that!”
“Why not?” Was he actually considering it?
“You don’t know anything about babies,” Pete reminded him. “And babies grow up to be teenagers. I’ve heard they can make your life hell.”
“I can learn. Other people do it.”
Pete’s expression screamed doubt.
“I can,” Nick repeated. “And I have Mom to guide me.”
“But is that what you really want to do? It’ll be a complete lifestyle change, man. And what about the restaurant? It’s barely surviving as it is.”
“I know there’s a lot of details to work through, but I can’t just let some strangers raise my child.” He scratched his cheek through his beard. “Besides, do you really think Mom would allow that to happen?”
Pete laughed humorlessly. “We both know the answer to that.”
“Yeah. So that leaves me no choice.” He swallowed thickly. “I’m going to be a single dad.”
“Listen, before you make any decisions, there’s plenty of time until the kid arrives. A lot can happen between now and then.”
Nick nodded. “True. Maybe Bree will change her mind.”
“Exactly, so play it cool. No quick decisions.”
“Right. No quick decisions.”
Pete raised a hand to get the bartender’s attention. “This round’s on me.” When they had their drinks, Pete changed the topic. “So what’s the story on getting financial help from Bree’s company? I’m guessing you haven’t said anything to her about it?”
Nick shook his head. “Nope. I’ve got a few things going on that I’m hoping will help us out.” He reminded Pete about the bartending class, and then told him about Nick’s consultant position with Bree’s company. “That’s what we were doing when Bree suddenly moaned in pain. We’d been having lunch at this Latin-fusion place. Great food, but large portions for the money. I think that’s where they’re going wrong, but I won’t know until I go back to look at their books.”
“So she doesn’t know how badly The Fresh Pantry is doing financially?”
> Nick scowled. “Do you think she’d ask me to be a restaurant consultant if that were the case?”
Pete nodded his agreement. “Actually, I’m surprised she offered you the position, knowing she was pregnant with your kid.”
“I hadn’t thought about it that way. She didn’t seem to mind using the restaurant for bartending class, either, although she wasn’t actively involved in that.” He pursed his lips and shrugged one shoulder. “This is just a short-term commitment, so maybe she figured she could hide her pregnancy until our business was concluded.”
Pete nodded. “You’re probably right. Or maybe subconsciously she wanted to be near you...wanted you to find out about the baby.”
They had been running into each other a lot since returning from vacation. “Anyway, back to saving the restaurant,” Nick said. “I’m also thinking about renting out the restaurant for use as a pop-up. That tapas one gave me the idea. Turns out, there are websites where you can list your space for rent. So once the bartending class ends, The Fresh Pantry will be available to rent out on Mondays.”
“Is it really worth the money?”
“For our space, I think we can get fifteen hundred a day.”
Pete’s eyes widened. “That would be an extra six thou every month.”
“If we can rent it every Monday. There’s no guarantee. But I figure this close to DC we can pick up some takers. Old Town is a great location.” Nick drank the last of his beer, deciding he’d had enough.
They talked over details about Nick’s idea, but he couldn’t stop yawning. “I’m gonna get going, Pete. Thanks for meeting me tonight. It really helped to talk it out.”
“Anytime,” Pete said before calling the bartender over and paying the entire tab.
“Let me give you some money.” Nick reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
Pete shook his head. “Nope. It’s the least I can do. Besides, you need to save your money to buy diapers.” He laughed at his own joke.
Nick didn’t think it was funny. “I grabbed an Uber over here, what about you?” Nick hadn’t taken any chances after the day he’d had. He knew overindulging would be hard to avoid.
“Same here,” Pete said. “I figured something must be up because you’re never game for going out to a bar on a weeknight.” He paused. “Hey, let me ask you something.”
“What’s that?”
“You’ve met Bree’s friends. What’s Roxie’s story?”
“I don’t really know much about her. You interested?”
“Maybe.”
“Let me guess, she’s not interested.” Nick couldn’t help giving him a hard time. “Maybe she’s seen too much of the real you.”
“Hey!” But Pete grinned at the jab. “Seriously, can you find out what’s up with her? She says she’s involved with someone.”
Nick sighed. “I’ll do what I can. You do remember that I’m the one with the major life change, right?”
* * *
IF BREE HAD learned anything from her high-stakes businessman father, it was to always have a lawyer on speed dial.
So the first thing she did the next morning when she got to her office was to call Larry Schwartz III, the lawyer she kept on retainer for the company because they weren’t in the position yet to have one on staff full-time.
“Hi, Larry, this is Bree Tucker,” she said when she was put through.
“Good morning, Bree, what can I do for you?” Larry was in his fifties and had become a lawyer just like his father and his father before him. Larry liked to joke that he was born with scales in one hand and a gavel in the other, since he would probably become a judge at some point, just like his father and grandfather had.
“I have some questions about adoption,” she said. “Can you answer them or do I need to talk to an adoption lawyer?”
“I can answer general questions, and we can go from there if you need more information.”
Bree inhaled deeply. She trusted Larry implicitly and knew he wouldn’t divulge her secret, but she wasn’t ready to tell him about her pregnancy. “I have a woman who is pregnant—she’s early in her pregnancy—and plans to put the child up for adoption. The father is against it. So where does she stand legally?”
“Hmm. Are they married?”
“No.”
“Living together? Common-law marriage?”
Hell no. “No, they’re not. My understanding is that this was a short-term thing. Neither of them is invested in a relationship.” Amazing how freely she could convey her own situation in the third person.
“Well, every state has its own laws, but in Virginia he would be required to sign an affidavit giving up his rights to the child, just like the mother would.”
“And if he refuses?”
“Then there would be a hearing in front of a judge and he could plead his case. He’d probably have his own lawyer.”
Sounded messy. “There’s no way around getting the father’s permission? Even if she doesn’t name him on the birth certificate?”
“Not that I know of. But I can put you in touch with an adoption lawyer, and maybe you’ll get a different answer.” Larry paused. “By the way, I’d suggest that she not lie on the birth certificate about the father’s identity because that could be a punishable offense.”
“I’ll keep your advice in mind as the pregnancy progresses. Thanks, Larry.” They disconnected and Bree stared at the notes she’d made, doodling on the corner of the page while she considered what to do next.
“Nothing,” she said aloud. She had several months to worry about this. Who knew what would happen between now and then?
Although that wasn’t how she liked to run her life. She preferred to do research, make a decision and then take action. Her handling of this situation was completely foreign to her.
Her desk phone rang and she answered it. “Bree Tucker.”
“Hello, Bree, how are you feeling?” Gabriella Carrera’s slight Columbian accent was immediately recognizable. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t at the restaurant yesterday when you fell ill.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I’m doing well, Gabriella. Nothing to worry about.”
“I hope it wasn’t my food that made you sick. I should have been there, but my son had a doctor’s appointment and my husband is on a business trip in California.”
“No, no, your food was delicious and I completely understand about your son,” Bree told her. “Nick Harmon was with me—the consultant I hired—and he agreed that your food was spectacular.”
“I’m so glad to hear that.”
They spent the next few minutes talking about what else Nick would be looking at in respect to the day-to-day running of her restaurant.
By the time she had hung up with Gabriella, Bree realized that there was no way she would be able to avoid Nick now that she’d hired him as a consultant. At least it would only be for a short period of time. Originally, she’d hired him knowing he’d finish the job and be out of her life by the time her pregnancy began to show. But, surprise, now he knew about the pregnancy, and wasn’t that going to make things uncomfortable between them.
“No time like the present.” She picked up the phone to call Nick, realizing that talking out loud to herself wasn’t exactly healthy behavior.
“Hello,” Nick said when he picked up after several rings.
“Hi, Nick, it’s Bree.”
He was silent.
“Are you still there?” she asked, thinking they’d been disconnected.
“I’m here. What do you want?” His tone was brusque.
“I’m calling about business.” If that was the way he wanted to play it, she could go along. “I was wondering when you might have time to go back to Gabriella’s to finish assessing her restaurant.”
He did
n’t say anything at first. “Do we need to go together or can I go alone?”
Ouch. She thought for a second. “I think the next time you go, I’ll go, too, so I can introduce you to the owner. Gabriella wasn’t available to meet with us yesterday because of a family obligation. I’d told her ahead of time that it wouldn’t be necessary for her to be there.”
“Then I can be available midafternoon any day this week, or next Monday when my restaurant is closed.”
They decided on the next afternoon because Bree didn’t want to waste time. She wanted this consultant job done quickly so she wouldn’t have to deal with him unless it was absolutely necessary.
After they ended their conversation, she called Gabriella to let her know their plans. The next thing on her agenda was to call her father to find out if he could give her any other clues to figuring out how to find her mother. That had been her investigator’s suggestion, but Bree had been too tired to make the call last night. Her dad had told her things over the years in answer to Bree’s questions, but as she’d become an adult, Bree had questioned whether he’d been completely truthful with her.
It turned out that she couldn’t get through to her father. She’d forgotten that he was leaving today on his honeymoon in Aruba, and he wasn’t answering his cell phone, so she left him a message to call her.
Why hadn’t her mother ever contacted her? For money, even? Had her dad paid her more money to keep staying away? Bree had heard her father say over and over that if you had money, people wanted your money—and he knew how to use it to his advantage.
* * *
BREE WAS THE first to arrive at Gabriella’s the next afternoon. She’d already eaten two small meals to hold her over until she ate at the restaurant. Her entire life was suddenly revolving around food. What to eat, what not to eat, when to eat, how much to eat. How was she going to endure this for months on end?
“I hope I’m not late.” Nick’s sudden arrival startled her.
“Not at all,” she said. “Gabriella has some other food she’d like us to try...since our tasting was interrupted the other day.”