by Scott, Lisa
“Lily sure has fallen for him,” Tonya said. “She better watch her step, or she’s going to lose her job. She had to redo a perm last week because she forgot to put on the solution, and she colored Mrs. Lane’s hair the wrong color. She’s got a serious case of Brad. Seems as though he likes her, too. She gets flowers all the time.”
Jeanne’s eyes widened, and she pressed her fingers over her mouth. She pushed out of the booth and hustled for the bathroom.
“Girl, it’s gonna be okay!” Tonya shouted after her.
Jeanne made it to the stall just in time. She’d been throwing up at least once a day, and that certainly helped keep her from exploding in size with all the calories she’d been consuming. But still, her jeans were getting tight, and those imaginary B cups were real. She could only wear baggy clothing for so long before someone would notice. And she had no idea what she was going to do.
She was splashing water on her face in the sink, when Kate pushed open the bathroom door.
“Jeanne, you okay, hon?” She came over and rubbed her back.
Jeanne swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and nodded. And her traitorous tummy roared to life again. She pushed away from Kate and flew back into the stall.
“This isn’t about Brad. You’re sick.”
Jeanne emerged from the stall and looked at herself in the mirror. The image staring back at her was pale and scared.
Kate’s eyes swept across Jeanne’s face, and then down to her chest. She knitted her brows, and her eyes dipped further south. Jeanne thought she could hear the click of the light bulb going off in her head.
“Oh, my god,” she whispered. “I remember that look. I remember that woozy feeling. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Kate asked, grasping her arm.
Jeanne opened her mouth to protest, but then she clamped it shut and closed her eyes, like a little kid who thought they disappeared if they couldn’t see you.
“Jeanne, is it … is it Brad’s?”
Jeanne kept her eyes closed and didn’t answer. The tears started flowing. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”
Kate pulled her into a hug, and then Tonya bustled into the bathroom.
“No one told me about any meeting in the ladies room.” Then her smile fell. She rushed over. “What’s going on? Jeanne, what is it?”
Jeanne looked at Kate, who looked at Tonya, who looked at Kate.
“What? Are you sick?” Tonya asked.
Jeanne braced herself against the sink. “This does not leave this room.”
Tonya zipped her lips.
“I’m pregnant.”
“Shut. Up.” Nothing shocked Tonya. But this did.
Jeanne nodded.
“Who?” Tonya asked.
Jeanne planted a fist on her hip. “Mr. January. Who do you think? Brad.”
Tonya blinked at her. “But … he doesn’t want … oh, no. Oh, no.”
Jeanne started crying again. “I know.” She leaned back against the wall and pressed up against the dryer, turning it on.
Kate raised her voice as she fumbled to turn off the dryer. “What are you going to tell him?” After a few pounds of Kate’s fist, the dryer shut off.
“I’m not telling him. Not yet.” She ran her hands through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to say. I don’t want to ruin things between him and Lily. And you know how he feels about kids.”
“We’re here for you, honey. Whatever you need.” Kate hugged Jeanne, and Tonya rubbed her back.
“Thanks guys. Let’s keep this quiet for a while.” She wiped her hand under her nose. “And get me some more pie. Now.”
“SO, HOW’S it going living with Tommy?” Jeanne asked Brad Monday morning, doing her best to sound like a girl who’s only care in the world was when the grocery store would be stocking double-stuffed Oreos again. She’d been having very specific cravings—cheddar-onion potato chips, pretzels dunked in caramel, and now that she thought about it, double-stuffed Oreos.
“Me and Tommy?” He chuckled. “We don’t fight as much as we used to, that’s for sure. I even try baiting him by rearranging his kitchen cupboards—pasta does not belong with the glasses, what’s he thinking?” He laughed like he’d found out Tommy was fond of wearing ballet slippers around the house. “But he won’t bite, no matter what I do. Guess that whole police chief thing is going to his head.”
Jeanne chuckled, wondering if Tommy had even noticed Brad’s organizational interventions. “Lily must be glad you moved out.”
“Oh, yeah. And you gotta be getting more sleep without me there.”
“Sure. Yeah. I’m feeling great.” Didn’t he notice the green tinge to her face? She probably looked like the Hulk’s little sister.
Hiding this from Brad was harder than she thought. She was sure the truth betrayed her with every look, every glance. She still had time to tell him. She would tell him—when the time was right.
Brad finished packing up the lunch orders he’d finished. “So, the wedding’s a few weeks away. You gotta get on Becca and make her decide on the roasted vegetables or the okra.”
“I’ll pin her down,” Kate said.
“Hey, I know they’ve got a wedding cake, but I was thinking of making a little one just for the baby. What do you think?” He narrowed his brows. “Do babies eat cake?”
“I’m sure Emma will try.” Tears pricked her eyes, and she quickly turned to the sink, turning on the water full blast so he couldn’t hear her choke back a cry.
“Wait, do you think it’s a bad idea? Is there some rule I don’t know about concerning cake and babies?”
She blinked back her tears and turned off the water. “No. It’s a wonderful idea. Becca will love it. It’s really thoughtful.”
“Good. I’m so glad to see things working out for them. It’ll be a good day. Rick’s doing the right thing.”
“I need to get some milk.” She marched to the freezer and slammed the door behind her.
“It’s in the fridge!” he shouted behind her.
Nope, today wasn’t the day to tell him he’d soon be making cake for his own baby. When she came out of the freezer, he was giving her the evil eye.
“What?” she asked. “I needed to cool off.”
“You almost let me forget about Mr. July. You haven’t said a thing, and it’s nearly the end of the month.”
“Brad!” She just about growled his name.
“I’ll have someone for you by the end of the day.”
“What are you going to do, call a dating service?”
He snapped his fingers. “Excellent idea.”
She groaned and went back into the freezer.
THIS TIME she didn’t bother getting changed out of her stretchy shorts and short-sleeved vee-neck—her new pregnant-in-the-god-forsaken-summer uniform. She showed up at the restaurant ten minutes early, and when Billy Rogers arrived, looking decent and friendly in a shirt and tie, she walked up to him and handed him a fifty-dollar bill.
“Hope this covers your gas and a decent meal. I just can’t do this tonight.”
“It’s not you, it’s me?” he asked.
Wow. Cute and smart. Maybe if she weren’t building a person in her belly she’d give this guy a shot. “Yep. If a guy named Brad ever gets in touch with you, tell him we had a nice time, but the timing wasn’t right. And give up on that dating service. Go out and find a hobby and meet someone with the same interests.”
He handed back her money. “You keep the fifty bucks, and I’ll take your dating advice. Good luck, Jeanne. Hope your timing is right when the right guy comes along.”
She laughed softly. “Too late for that.”
JEANNE CHANNELED her energy into Becca’s wedding, trying to keep her mind off more urgent problems—like a pair of tiny feet pressing her bladder day and night.
When the big day finally arrived, Becca wore a simple white sundress and carried Emma along a white runner spread out on the grass behind the banquet hall. Rick stood in fro
nt of the gazebo, beaming as he watched his girls walking toward him. Jeanne stood near him as maid of honor. It hurt her heart to think Becca had no one to walk her down the aisle. That made Jeanne all the more grateful Becca and Rick were making a go of it. Jeanne had spent many hours worrying about her little sister, and not just because that was what big sisters did.
Jeanne wanted Becca and Emma to be safe and secure. She wanted her niece to grow up in a regular family. And she didn’t want Becca to spend her life as a single mom.
A single mom like I’m going to be.
Jeanne unconsciously rubbed her tummy protectively as she stood next to Rick. A rush of panic hit her. Had anybody seen her do the very telling gesture? She pretended to smooth her dress down and directed her attention back to the bride.
The ceremony was short and sweet, and Jeanne’s heart swelled with joy for Rick and Becca. But the minute after they walked down the aisle as husband and wife, it was time for Jeanne to get to work. She hurried to the kitchen and kicked off her shoes in favor of more comfortable flats. A sudden change in footwear should be a huge tip-off that a woman’s in the family way.
She’d filled the chafing dishes with sesame chicken skewers and Brad’s coconut shrimp. When he came into the kitchen, he smiled at her. “Show time.”
“We’ve got a lot of work to do. I should have brought a change of clothes, this dress is suffocating me.” She braced herself against the counter and felt seriously dizzy.
“Here, sit down.” He dragged a chair over to her and helped her settle into it.
She leaned back and tried to get comfortable in the tight, binding dress. The shiny fabric accentuated every bulge and bump, including the one Brad was staring at. The one she was unconsciously rubbing again.
“Jeanne?” His voice was as quiet as she’d ever heard.
Her eyes caught his, and she looked away. She said nothing, but the silence said everything.
“Are you …?”
She sat up straight so her baby belly wouldn’t be as prominent, but there was no hiding it now. She had to tell him some time, and from the look on his face he knew. She nodded.
“You’re pregnant.”
She swallowed hard. “Yes.” She waited for the shitstorm.
He shook his head and raked his hand through his hair. He paced back and forth, saying nothing.
“We can talk about this more later, Brad. We’ve got to get those hors d’oeuvres out.”
He stopped pacing and pointed at her. “It was Mr. April, wasn’t it? That night you didn’t come home.”
Seriously? It was like a puzzle set for toddlers, and he couldn’t put it together? No. He wouldn’t put it together, that’s what it was. Her heart fell. “Brad …”
“Because we used protection. But you didn’t with him?”
She dropped her head in her hands. She was lobbing a bomb at him, and he was so far in denial, he couldn’t see the truth hunched over in the chair in front of him. “Brad, it wasn’t Walt.”
His eyes were wide and desperate. He rubbed the back of his head, then paced a bit. Then rubbed his head again.
Lily peeked her head into the kitchen. “You guys need any help?” She looked lovely in a pink satin strapless dress highlighting her pancake flat tummy. Like Jeanne needed a new reason to dislike the girl.
Brad’s eyes lit up when he saw her. “Just give us a minute, hon. You can help us carry some stuff out. I’ll find you. We’ve got a few things to talk about, then we’ll be ready.”
Lily smiled and blew him a kiss and backed out the door.
Jeanne’s stomach lurched. Brad was in love, and she was going to ruin it. He was going to lose Lily because of her.
Brad looked back at Jeanne. “If it’s not me, and it’s not Walt, who is it?”
He was so scared of the idea he couldn’t even consider that it could be him. She couldn’t do this to him. She just couldn’t. This news would most certainly destroy everything for him. He had a woman he loved, who he was taking things slowly with and showering with flowers. All that would change once he found out. And she just couldn’t do that to him.
She took a deep breath. “I don’t know who the father is.”
He jerked back. “What are you talking about?”
She closed her eyes. Maybe it would be easier to weave the lie without looking at him. “That night I didn’t come home? I wasn’t with Walt.”
“Who were you with? I’ll kill him.”
She opened her eyes and walked over to him. “Calm down, Brad. His name was Jim. That’s all I know.”
“And how did this Jim come into the picture on the night of your date?”
Oh, lordy. She’d never seen that particular vein pounding on the side of his head before. She swallowed. “Walt was great, and should have been perfect for me. But I didn’t want him. And I was feeling bad and didn’t want to come home early.”
She sucked in another breath, and the smell of all the food simmering overwhelmed her senses. She pinched the bridge of her nose.
“So, I went to a bar in Whitesville, drank a few too many and hooked up with this guy Jim.” She finished up her story quickly and shrugged. “First and only one night stand, and look what happened.”
His fists were clenched. “You’ve got to find him and tell him. He’s gotta own up to his responsibility.”
She shook her head. “He was in town on business. We went to a hotel. I don’t know his last name. I don’t know where he lives.” She turned up her hands. “I’m on my own.”
“The hell you are,” Brad said. His face was red, his voice harsh.
She reached for his arm and lowered her voice. “Brad, it’s going to be all right. You know how badly I want a baby. Didn’t happen like I thought it would, but it is what it is. I’ll be able to handle it on my own. Besides, I wouldn’t want someone to be involved in my child’s life who didn’t want to be.” She let that idea settle between them like a dog turning ’round and ’round before hunkering down for the night. “What if you got someone pregnant? How would you deal with that?”
He was rubbing the back of his neck like he’d been rolling in poison oak. “I don’t know. If I got someone in trouble, I’d own up to my mistakes.”
There were those words again … . Trouble. Mistake. “I’ll make it easy on him. The only thing worse than not having a father is having one who doesn’t want the role.”
He shook his head. He wasn’t picking up on any of her hints, subtle as the wallop of cayenne pepper. “But Jeanne, he should support you financially at least.”
“Lots of women do this on their own. I’ll be fine. Really.” She stood up. “Now come on, we’ve got to get these appetizers out there and then prep the salads.”
He didn’t move. “There’s got to be something I can do to help you.”
She sighed. “Actually, there is something you can do.”
“Anything. You name it.”
“Come over and clean my cat box.”
He laughed. “What?”
“Seriously. Pregnant women aren’t supposed to do that. Some possible disease in cat feces.”
He shook his head and laughed. “If that’s what you need, sign me up.”
“Good. Thanks. Now let’s get to work.”
Brad’s arms were strapped across his chest, but he finally nodded, and started gathering the bins to set in the chafing dishes.
“Brad?”
“Yeah?”
She couldn’t look at him. “Don’t tell anyone yet. I’ll handle it.”
“Whatever you need, Jeanne. I’m here for you.” He reached for her, but she hurried away from him and grabbed one of the chafing dishes.
“Oh, no you don’t,” he said. “Not in your condition.”
She rolled her eyes. “Brad, I’m perfectly capable—”
“Absolutely not.” He cut her off. “You can dress the salads. I’ll carry these out.”
She knew she wasn’t going to win this one, so she turned to the coole
r and pulled out the salads and with a shaky hand spooned her homemade Italian dressing over each one. How could she have lied to Brad? But how could she have told him the truth? It was clear he didn’t want to hear it.
It’s for the best. He doesn’t want this. She rubbed her belly again. We’ll manage, little one, all on our own.
Chapter 18
BRAD KEPT a smile plastered on his face as they served the guests. He dished up the roasted lamb to lots of praise, but couldn’t keep his mind off Jeanne. Who was this guy who’d gotten her pregnant? Jeanne would need the man’s support. Not only financially, but with raising the baby, too. Her baby would need to know its father.
He refilled waters and cleared plates as he hatched his plan. He would hit every bar in Whitesville and find this guy. Someone had to know who it was. He’d hire a private investigator if he had to. And no way was he telling Jeanne what he was up to.
While he was scraping dishes in the kitchen, a soft hand snaked around his waist. He dropped a plate, and Lily jumped back.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m just sick of keeping my hands off you all night. Especially after catching the bouquet!” She held the bunch of flowers over her head in triumph.
He couldn’t take out his bad mood on Lily. She didn’t deserve this. He took her in his arms and kissed her head. Her hair was silky soft, she smelled sweet, and she’d been on the radar of dozens of men at the reception. But, still, his heart wasn’t into it.
Lily snuggled her head against his chest.
That’s when Jeanne walked into the kitchen. “Oh, sorry. I was just …” She hurried over to the other side of the room.
Brad’s heart dropped. Poor Jeanne. How was she going to handle this on her own? He didn’t want to hurt her more by flaunting his relationship with Lily.
Lily looped her hand in his. “When are you going to be ready to leave?”
He scratched his head. “I’ve got loads of cleaning up to do. Go on home, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She pouted and crossed her arms. “Brad, I want you.”
She widened her eyes, letting him know exactly what she had in mind. He’d seen that look many a time from her.