by Ann Evans
“It means I don’t intend to be relegated to the position of sperm donor. I can’t go back to Orlando and just pretend this baby doesn’t exist.”
“Yes, you can. He’ll be fine.”
She saw his eyes narrow. “You know it’s a boy?”
“No. It’s too soon. I guess I’ve just been surrounded by so many men all my life that I assumed it’s a boy.”
His stance relaxed a little. Maybe he realized this whole situation wasn’t any easier for her than it was for him. Whatever the reason, he sat down in one of the chairs. Her fingers were knotted tensely on the table, and he placed one hand over them. After a sticky moment of silence, she lifted her lashes to find him looking at her curiously, sympathy behind the dark steel of his eyes.
“What are you so afraid of, Jenna?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that there’s no reason for you to feel that you owe me anything. I’m not asking for financial support.” Remembering that last, bitter conversation, she added, “And if you’re worried the news will get out, that your reputation will suffer—”
“Don’t,” he said, squeezing her hands. Without releasing her, he leaned back slightly, as though trying to see her better. His mouth produced a pained twist. “I’d give anything to take back what I said that day. It was so different from what I intended.” He gave a little huff of laughter. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever met who leaves me tongue-tied.”
It would have been nice to explore just what he meant, but for the sake of the baby, she had to make sure he understood her intentions. “Please don’t make this difficult,” she said, pulling her hands out from under his. “I don’t want anything from you.”
“Why? Because you think I can’t handle it?”
“Because you don’t want to. I have you on record, remember? When I interviewed you, it couldn’t have been clearer that kids were the last thing you wanted. I may be a lousy journalist, but that came through loud and clear.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I won’t deny that children were not in the picture I envisioned with Shelby. That doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind.”
“Or that you can’t change it back.”
She watched his uneasiness suddenly spike with irritation. His expression became cold, pinched. “I have certain rights to be involved with this baby. Morally, ethically…legally I have rights that make a pretty powerful argument.”
She felt the blood leave her face. “You’d fight me in court?”
He shook his head, as if he already regretted his words. “It doesn’t have to come to that. Why are you being so stubborn?”
“Why are you?” she shot back. “Admit it. This isn’t what you want. When you came here, weren’t you hoping to find out that I wasn’t pregnant? And before I told you the baby was yours, weren’t you praying, even just a little bit, that it was somebody else’s? Anybody’s problem but yours?”
His chair scraped noisily as he slid it back and rose. He stalked away from the table, as though he needed to put distance between them. “What’s done is done,” he said. “Neither one of us has the luxury of changing things. But we can come to an arrangement that’s agreeable to both of us. Visitation. Joint custody…”
“For how long?” she asked. “This baby will have a very loving home with me and with my family. But he also needs stability. Right now you’re interested. Maybe you even feel the need to salve your conscience by taking an active role. But what happens when you lose interest?” She breathed an exasperated sigh, tired of trying to make him see reason. “You can’t flit in and out of this child’s life whenever you feel like it,” she said at last. “It’s not fair to the baby and it’s not fair to me.”
The distance of the table separated them. Spreading his hands and planting them on the wood surface he leaned forward to meet her eye to eye. “Then let’s make it fair to both of you. Let’s get married.”
Taken aback, Jenna looked at him as if she’d never seen him before. He couldn’t be serious. One night’s indiscretion couldn’t lead to a lifetime commitment for either of them.
“Please don’t make jokes about this,” she finally said on a soft breath.
“Your divorce—it’s final, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then legally there’s no reason we can’t. We get married. Give this baby both a mother and a father. A father who doesn’t come and go out of his life. Together I think we could make a good team.”
She shook her head. “It’s a preposterous idea.”
“Why?”
Her hand flew out to encompass the kitchen. “Look around you, Mark. This house is a perfect example of the way middle-class America lives. A Leave-It-to-Beaver lifestyle in the ’burbs isn’t the kind of life you’re used to. Or one that you’d want.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “Personally I don’t think there’s anything wrong with having the kind of luxuries money can buy. I don’t think being a capitalist should count against me. What’s your objection to money?”
As a working mother, she couldn’t possibly be opposed to having more income. And Mark would certainly be able to provide it. But she also knew people who weren’t one bit happier because they had money. Some of them were downright miserable.
“Money isn’t an answer for everything,” she told him. “It changes people.”
“It doesn’t have to. Just consider what I can offer you and this child, Jenna. The best education. Security. The freedom to have the kind of life you’ve probably only dreamed of.”
Her irritation flared. “I have a great life right now. I have family and roots and happiness that can’t be bought, not even by you.”
He tilted a smile her way. “I don’t doubt that. But what’s wrong with expanding your horizons a bit? You want to raise this kid in a commune, I might have to retract my offer. But surely some middle ground can be reached, don’t you think?”
Frustrated, she stood and began pacing the kitchen. “Do you know how many years are involved in raising a child? When the novelty of being a dad wears off and all you’re left with is dirty diapers and runny noses and a dozen other problems that can drive any sane person up a wall, what are you going to do then?”
He crossed his arms and lifted one shoulder. “Hell if I know. But I figure you’ll have a pretty good idea how to deal with almost anything. I’m a fast study. Give me a chance, and I may surprise you.”
Her jaw compressed. “Will you please be serious?”
“What makes you think I’m not serious? I don’t go around offering marriage to just anyone.”
“Just to women you feel obligated toward,” she said. “Ones who happen to have gotten…knocked up.”
He stared hard at her, and she sensed she’d angered him. When he spoke, his voice sounded harsh. “You think that’s how I see you? The little idiot who let herself get caught? Or maybe a sly manipulator looking for a rich husband? I was there that night, Jenna. In spite of everything, I knew what I was doing and so did you. It didn’t have anything to do with tricks or stupidity. It had everything to do with two people who wanted to connect in the most basic way. If you hadn’t run off the way you did, if I hadn’t blown it the next day with that stupid phone conversation, do you honestly think we wouldn’t have been inventing new ways to—”
She raised one hand to halt his words, her cheeks flooding with color. “Stop! Having great sex and falling in love are two different things.”
Again the silence became uncomfortable. He met her intense and blatant scrutiny, but she had no idea what he was really thinking. Finally he said in a tight, quiet voice, “Who said anything about falling in love? ‘’
She felt the need to lick her lips. “You’re not in love with me.”
“I’ve never believed in that sort of romantic foolishness,” he conceded. “That doesn’t mean I don’t care what happens to you. Or this baby.”
She moved away, full of wounded pride and shaky dignity. “I ca
n’t marry someone I don’t love or someone who doesn’t love me. Who’d want a marriage like that?”
He cleared his throat, as though trying to make sure he sounded reasonable. “There are a lot of marriages that have been based on less. We could still make a good home for this child. We could find a way to make it work.”
“I can’t do it. Not just for me or the baby, but for Petey and J.D. I have to think about them, as well. They’re just getting used to their father not being around. What would happen if I married you, made you part of their lives? They’d start to depend on you, to think of you as a real stepfather. Then in a few years, when you meet someone else, or get tired of all the tiresome things that go along with parenting, what then? You just walk out of their lives? I can’t let that happen. Not again.”
Clearly clamping down on impatience, he said, “Whatever your ex-husband was like, I’m not that man, Jenna. I don’t take my responsibilities lightly. I don’t run when the going gets tough.”
“You can’t make that kind of promise.”
“If you’d just think about it, this baby needs a father—”
“Please don’t say that,” she cut in sharply, giving him a steely look. “You sound like Dad and my brothers. But I can tell you from personal experience that sometimes a father isn’t an asset. There were times when…”
She broke off, unwilling to discuss or explain her ex-husband’s relationship with Petey and J.D. Her nerves were quivering with tension, and she put her hands to her cheeks, wondering if her face looked as stiff as it felt.
“Jenna, listen to me—”
Her hands slapped into her lap in a quick, annoyed movement. “I’m so tired of men trying to tell me what’s good for me. I’ll tell you what I don’t need. Another man trying to make all my decisions when I’m perfectly capable of making them myself.”
“Then make the decision.”
“I have. No.”
Abruptly he turned away for a moment. Exhaling a deep breath, he swung back to face her. “All right,” he said calmly. “Let’s come at this another way. Your big-gest objections to marrying me are that you don’t love me and you suspect I won’t be there for you in the future. I suppose that’s understandable, considering you don’t really know me. Is that a fair statement?”
“I…yes.”
“Then consider this. I’ll stay in town a few weeks. As it happens, the Atlanta office can use some one-on-one time with me right now. While I’m here, we get to know each other better. We go out to dinner. To a movie. Maybe take your kids on a few outings so they get comfortable with me. I’d like to meet the fellows who were so determined to get their mom a husband.”
“You’re suggesting that we date.”
“Exactly. And we pretend that there’s no baby calling the shots here. Just two people who’ve discovered a mutual attraction. I have no idea what the protocol is for this kind of situation, but it can’t hurt for us to get to know each other better, can it?”
“As people, instead of lovers,” she said cautiously, trying the idea on for size.
He smiled as he approached her. When no more than a few inches separated them, he said, “I’d be lying if I said future sexual encounters between us weren’t a very appealing possibility. We both know there was a spark, and I’m not averse to fanning it.”
Something in her face must have told him she didn’t think that was a good idea. “If you’re not comfortable with that, I’m prepared to wait,” he said. He stroked one finger across the pink-tinged softness of her cheek. “Until you are.”
She tilted her head away from his touch. “It won’t work. What happened in New York was an unexpected, lovely accident. But that doesn’t mean we can build a future out of it. Not one that will last.”
“Isn’t it worth exploring?” He captured one of her hands. She took a sharp breath, then a sharper one as he laid her hand and his against the flatness of her stomach. “There’s only one guarantee in this whole situation, Jenna.” He pressed slightly. “You’re going to have my baby. And as far as I’m concerned, that’s reason enough to try.”
She felt herself trembling, remembering all those lovely hours they’d shared between tangled sheets. This was insanity. She knew her objections must sound profoundly cynical, but couldn’t he see how foolish this idea was?
Her gaze leaped to his. “And if I won’t agree to this?”
His face was fixed like steel. “Then as much as I would regret it, I’ll go home and determine what options I have legally.”
SITTING IN THE BATHTUB, J.D. was annihilating plastic Cyberlons by smacking them with the tip of his space cannon. Jenna watched one after the other plop into the sudsy water, sent to a watery grave with all the accompanying battle sounds and expressions of victory that any successful intergalactic cop would employ.
Petey, who was enduring getting his head towel-dried, rolled his eyes at her. He considered J.D.’s never-ending battle with Cyberlons annoyingly passé. His own bath toy, a battleship with a Spiderman action figure inexplicably tied to it, was clutched in his hand.
Seated next to the tub, Jenna stopped rubbing Petey’s head long enough to scoop up the floating soap and deposit it closer to her son’s body. “J.D., stop fooling around and finish up.”
Her back ached. She realized that, even though she’d taken the day off from work, she was exhausted. Bath time with the boys was always a challenge; she’d never seen two kids who could stall and goof around the way these two could. But she felt frazzled and edgy tonight, as well. Was it just the demands the baby was making on her body? Or was it Mark’s visit this morning?
Petey pulled his head away from the towel to find her eyes. “You mad about something, Mom?”
She’d been toweling pretty vigorously. She brought her movements down a notch. Smiling at him, she decided that now was as good a time as any to address today’s events with her sons. “Any reason I should be?”
J.D. just shrugged. Petey shook his head. “I can’t think of any.”
She tugged her oldest son closer with the ends of the towel so she could give him a narrow-eyed look. “Not even the fact that you’ve been calling total strangers in a search to find me a husband?”
J.D. dropped his space cannon, sending water out of the tub. “It was all Petey’s idea! I didn’t want to do it.”
Petey swung toward the tub angrily. “Squealer!” He turned back to his mother. He had the same soft brown eyes as his father, and they seemed even more so now when they were filled with guilt. “We were only trying to help,” he said.
Both boys began to argue with each other, throwing incoherent explanations her way whenever they felt the need. She took Petey by the arms and looked sternly at J.D. “Both of you, stop!” she commanded. “It doesn’t matter whose idea it was. You shouldn’t have done it.”
They were immediately contrite. Petey dropped his head, and J.D. began lightly tapping one of the Cyberlons with the tip of his cannon. Mark’s version of yesterday’s telephone call had been embarrassing enough to hear. She could only imagine what the other men they’d called must think, but considering where she stood now with Mark, it hardly seemed important. Still, the boys needed to be scolded for such outrageous behavior. And threatened with dire consequences if they ever did something like that again.
She lectured them until she sensed they’d stopped listening. Then she said, “I haven’t decided yet what your punishment should be.” She helped Petey slip into his pajama bottoms. “Maybe no video games for a year.”
“A year!” J.D. exclaimed from the tub. “We can’t go a whole year. Especially since it wasn’t even my idea.”
“Loser,” Petey muttered.
“I suppose I could put you both on bread and water for a month. That would certainly make mealtime easier on me.”
J.D. gasped in horror, but Petey looked at her sharply, realizing she wasn’t quite as angry as he’d feared.
She snapped her fingers, as though coming to a sudden decision. �
��Suppose I make you help Grampa clean out the garage this weekend?”
That really amounted to no punishment at all. The kids knew that her father cleaned out the garage almost every weekend. Or tried to. He invariably got tired and ended up in front of the television watching a game or got sidetracked by all the memorabilia he came across that had been sitting in boxes marked in her mother’s neat handwriting.
J.D. looked confused. “That’s nothing—”
“Whatever you say, Mom,” Petey cut in quickly with a comically censoring glare at his brother.
“Then it’s settled,” Jenna said. She pointed her finger at Petey. “And I don’t expect either of you to do something like that ever again. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am,” both boys promised.
She slipped Petey’s pajama top over his head. When she could see his face again, she asked, “How did you two find out about the baby?”
J.D. was the one to confess. “We listened on the stairs while you talked to Grampa and Uncle Christopher and Uncle Trent. You can hear everything from there. Sometimes—”
“It was an accident,” Petey piped in, shooting a warning glance in his brother’s direction. “We hardly ever hear anything. We always go right to sleep.”
“Sure,” Jenna said. “Perfect little angels.”
Petey looked relieved.
“I know I should have told you both about the baby sooner. How do you feel about having another brother? Or maybe a sister?”
Petey shrugged. “I guess it’s okay.”
“I’d rather have a dog,” J.D. said absently. He’d gone back to slaying Cyberlons.
“Are you happy about the baby?” Petey asked.
“Well, I have to admit, I was surprised at first. But having you two is such a wonderful adventure that I’m excited about having another child.” She looked back and forth between them. “You boys know, don’t you, that this doesn’t change the way I feel about you? I won’t love this baby any more than I love you.”
J.D. frowned up at her. “Can it be a boy so we can play Alien Invasion?”