Fifty Ways to Say I’m Pregnant

by Christine Rimmer

  Four days left, counting this one newly begun a few hours ago. Four days and she was out of here. Out of his life. On to the career she’d worked so hard for, on to a whole different kind of life than he’d ever known.

  He knew it was the right thing, to refuse her offer to stay here with him. It was the only thing, really. But that wasn’t going to make her leaving any easier to take.

  He’d see her again, now and then. When she came back home for visits with her family. Maybe they could go out….

  But probably not. He had to be realistic. She’d have another life. She’d meet other men. She had it all: brains and drop-dead good looks and a willing heart. She wouldn’t stay single forever. In the end, he’d be someone way back in her memory.

  A guy she’d loved once, though it didn’t work out….

  “Beau?”

  He kissed her hair. “Yeah?”

  She had her hand on his chest, above the blanket, idly stroking. “Beau, I need to tell you something….”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Beau,” Starr whispered, “what would you say if…?”

  Instead of finishing, she sighed.

  Beau tried to dip his chin, to look at her. But she kept her head down. Her hand had stopped stroking, her fingers lay still over his heart.

  He had the strangest feeling then, a kind of dread mingled with something else—a thread of hope, maybe. Which was stupid. Hope for what?

  He prompted, “What would I say if…?”

  She took forever to answer. In the silence he found himself realizing that she’d been doing that a lot. She’d look at him and start to talk—and then end up not saying anything. Or her gaze would shift away. When she finally spoke, he’d have the clear sense she wasn’t saying what she’d started out to say.

  “Oh, never mind,” she said at last. “It’s nothing….”

  He wasn’t sure about that. But he left it alone. What could it be but what had already been decided? She was leaving in four days. That wasn’t going to change. Hashing it around some more wouldn’t do either of them any good.

  She stirred against him, sighing, settling in. In time, he heard her breathing even out, go shallow and slow. He waited a little longer, to make sure she was really asleep. Then he flipped the top blanket over her, so she wouldn’t be cold.

  A while after that, he gently pulled his arm from under her neck and reached over her to turn off the light. Starr mumbled something—his name, it sounded like—but she didn’t wake up. He eased himself back in next to her and gathered her close, brushing the lightest of kisses against the crown of her head.

  Starr slept on. Beau stared into the darkness, holding her sweet body close, thinking that there were worse ways to spend a sleepless night.

  They got up at eight and walked over to the coffee shop next to the motel for breakfast. By ten, Starr had arranged to have the Suburban towed to a Rawlins repair shop. She’d also called her insurance company. The adjustor would visit the repair shop in the next few days—most likely not till after the holiday—and determine whether the vehicle was worth fixing. Her dad had her set up with a roadside service plan that included a free rental if she needed one, so she called Avis and they sent over a car. The car arrived at ten-thirty. Beau settled up the motel bill and they took off, with Beau at the wheel.

  It was a nice ride home, for the most part. The sun shone bright in a clear blue sky and it was four-lane interstate the whole way to Medicine Creek. They talked easily about casual things. Three times during the two-hour trip, she started to tell him about the baby.

  He’d glance over when she cleared her throat, or said his name. She’d look in his eyes and the words would die on her lips.

  It was like a bad habit, really—a bad habit in reverse. The more you smoked, the more you had to smoke. The more she didn’t tell Beau about the baby, the more she couldn’t.

  The third time she started in and didn’t finish, he remarked on it. “You’ve been doing that a lot lately—starting to say something, then holding it back. If there’s something you need to say, maybe you’d better just go ahead and say it.”

  It was the closest she was ever going to get to an invitation. Her heart raced and her palms went clammy. She rubbed her hands on her jeans and cleared her throat some more—and despised herself utterly when, once again, all she managed to get out was, “I…well, I’m going miss you, that’s all.”

  He seemed to buy it—to accept that her regret at leaving him was all she had on her mind. “It’s the best thing,” he said softly, eyes on the road ahead. “The right thing…”

  She wanted to reach over and whack him upside the head about then. “No, it’s not. It’s not the best thing, it’s not even the right thing. It’s just how you want it because you had a bad start in life and you’ve convinced yourself you can’t deal with being a husband or a dad.”

  He glanced her way again. “I think I’ll just keep my mouth shut on this one.”

  “Good idea,” she muttered. She folded her arms over her middle and watched the golden prairie rolling by, the bluffs in the distance, the shadows where the land dipped to coulees and draws. No way she was going to light into him—even if he was a thick-headed fool determined to throw away the best thing that had ever happened to either of them because he insisted on blaming himself for tragedies that weren’t in any way his fault.

  Her fury was at least half guilt over her own cowardice. She knew that. But it didn’t make her one bit less ready to chew nails. They rode along in silence the rest of the way, the storm inside her kind of blowing itself out.

  By the time she let him off at Daniel’s place, she was able to lean across the seat and give him quick kiss goodbye—and to drag the now-battered yellow envelope out of her purse. “Don’t forget this.” He’d abandoned it on the dresser in the motel room and she’d snatched it up at the last minute. The look on his face as she handed it over told her he hadn’t left it behind by accident.

  “Thanks,” he muttered, scowling.

  “My pleasure.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Drop by my place tonight?”

  His expression lightened. “I’ll be there.” He got out and she went around and slid in behind the wheel.

  At the Rising Sun, they were just serving the mid-day meal at the main house when she stopped in to tell everyone she was home safe.

  Edna jumped up from the table. “Have you eaten? Sit down, I’ll get you a plate.”

  So she ate a little and apologized to her dad and Tess for wrecking the Suburban. “I think, since it’s six years old and all, they’ll probably declare it totaled. I’m sorry about that. I know it had a lot of sentimental value.”

  Tess looked at her husband, fond memories in her eyes. “I had this ancient Tercel—remember, Zach?”

  Her dad’s eyes got right next door to misty. “I do.”

  “I was never so touched as when your father drove me up to Sheridan to pick up that Suburban—but in the end, the car itself is just a way to get from here to there. The important thing is that you and Beau came out of it without a scratch.”

  “Wasn’t your fault, anyway,” her dad added. “I’m just grateful that deer didn’t come flying through the windshield.”

  “Ain’t that the truth,” old Tim piped up. “A deer’s gonna do what a deer’s gonna do—including jumping right in front of you out of nowhere on a rainy road.”

  The way he said that had her thinking of the sweet old coot who’d given them a ride. She told them all about Oggie Jones, about his chewed-up cigar and his ratty suspenders, his antique Cadillac with all that stuff in the trunk. “Such a strange old guy,” she said. “He talked nonstop all the way to Casper….”

  “Sounds like a real character,” her dad agreed.

  After they ate, Tess volunteered to follow Starr up to the airport in Sheridan where she could drop of the rental car. “We can stop in for groceries on the way back.”

  But Starr shook her head. “I get a better deal on it if
I take the weekly rate. So I can just drive it up there when I go to the airport on Tuesday.”

  “Come with me, anyway,” Tess insisted. “It’ll be our last chance for a little time together before you’re off to New York.”

  “Go,” Edna chimed in. “Ethan and I can look after things here.”

  “Shopping?” Ethan licked off his milk mustache and plunked down his glass. “I like shopping. I’m going, too.”

  “I’m baking cookies. Chocolate chip,” Edna wheedled. “I could sure use some help….”

  Ethan considered. “Who gets to lick the bowl?”

  “Well, whoever stays and helps me.”

  Ethan agreed to stay. And Starr said she’d go to Sheridan with Tess. “But I should call Jerry first…”

  Tomorrow was Saturday—and Monday was the final holiday of the summer. So she apologized to her boss for not being there her last day of work. “And I promise I’ll get you one more installment of Mabel’s column before I leave.”

  “You change your mind about life in the big city,” Jerry suggested for about the tenth time that summer, “you come on back home and take the job that’s waiting for you right here.”

  “I will,” she said, wishing that could happen, but doubting it ever would. Yeah, she’d realized she could make a home here and be happy. But without Beau?

  No. She’d rather just go ahead, stick with her original plan, make a new life in a place where there were fewer reminders of what could never be.

  Once she got up the nerve to tell them her problem, Tess and her dad were going to start in on her. They’d argue that she’d be better off at home where they could help her with the baby. But she’d deal with that conversation when she got to it—which wasn’t going to be until after she’d told Beau.

  And telling Beau? When would she manage that?

  At the rate she was going, not for a long time.

  Once Starr had called Jerry, she and Tess headed for Sheridan and the Safeway there.

  Starr pushed the cart. Tess read from a long list, pulling boxes and jars off the shelves, stacking everything neatly in the cart as Starr rolled it up and down the aisles. Starr watched her stepmother, the way she would frown at her list and then look up, scanning the shelves, seeking just the brand and size she wanted. Tess looked better every day, Starr thought. Her step seemed a little lighter, her voice had more of the old lilt in it. The dark smudges were gone from under her eyes.

  It never occurred to Starr they’d run into trouble in the aisle with the baby supplies. Really, she didn’t even notice what was in that aisle. They only turned down that way because Tess had a few things she wanted at the other end.

  Starr saw all the baby stuff up ahead and tried walking faster. It didn’t work. Tess slowed at a vertical row of teething rings and pacifiers, each one individually packed on a cardboard backing and hanging from a line of hooks.

  “Oh, my…” Tess unhooked a teething ring from the row and turned to Starr, who’d backed up reluctantly to wait for her. “Can you believe, three weeks ago, I bought one of these? I thought it was so cute, I couldn’t resist it, even though I knew the baby wouldn’t be needing it for quite a while.” The ring was a toy doughnut—complete with plastic icing and sprinkles. Tess was shaking her head. “Now, isn’t that silly? I should have brought it back for a refund. What good is a fake doughnut-teething ring going to do anybody now?”

  It hurt, just to look at her. The pain in her eyes went down and down, as if there was no bottom to it.

  For Tess, Starr realized, that pain would never completely fade. There would always be a tender, sad place in her secret heart for the baby she’d wanted so much, the baby who never got a chance to be born….

  Starr opened her mouth to say how they ought to get moving. What came out was, “Well, I guess you can give it to me.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tess dropped the teething ring.

  Neither of them moved to pick it up. The two of them just stood there, next to the bright bottles of baby lotion, the big packages of disposable diapers, the shelf of bibs and rattles and little tub toys, staring at each other.

  “’Scuse me,” said a voice behind Starr.

  “Oh,” said Starr. “Sure.” She angled the cart out of the way and the other shopper rolled by.

  The spell-like silence broken, Tess bent and picked up the teething ring. She hung it back on its hook. When she turned to Starr again she asked, very carefully, “Is it true. Are you—?”

  “Yeah,” Starr cut her off before she said the word. “Yeah. I am.”

  That got them both staring at each other again. Starr had the strangest feeling—as if any minute she would turn to glass. And shatter.

  Tess said, “Maybe we should just finish the shopping. We can talk when we get in the car.”

  Starr gripped the cart handle. Hard, with both hands. She couldn’t believe she’d just popped out with it like that. “All of a sudden, I feel kind of sick….”

  Tess stepped close and spoke softly. “What can I do? You need to sit down?”

  Starr swallowed, took a slow, deep breath and let it out with care. “I…I’m okay. I’ll be okay.”

  “Sure?”

  “Uh. Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” She straightened her shoulders. “It was just…the shock, you know? Of getting it out there.”

  “Does Beau…?”

  Starr shook her head. “He doesn’t know.”

  “Oh, honey…”

  Starr bit the inside of her lip to make it stop quivering. “If you look at me like that, I’m just going to burst into tears right here in Safeway—either that, or throw up. And then we’ll never get this shopping done.”

  “I shouldn’t have told you,” Starr said. They had the groceries loaded up and Tess was driving them home. “Not yet, anyway. Not until I told Beau.”

  Tess sent her a look of complete understanding. “It’s hard. I know….” Something in her tone, in the way her voice trailed off, made Starr sit up and take notice.

  “You do know? I mean, really know?”

  Tess nodded, her eyes on the road. “I was younger, though. Only seventeen. Not even through high school yet…”

  “Oh, God. Jobeth?”

  Tess nodded again and sent Starr another look. “Someday we can have a long talk about what a tough time I had. But it’s not important right now. Right now, we’re talking about you.”

  “Great.” Starr stared at the dashboard.

  “Come on. Talk to me…”

  So Starr brought Tess up to speed: how far along she was, when she’d taken the test.

  Tess hit the gas and passed a truck loaded high with rolls of barbwire. “Those tests are pretty reliable.”

  “Ninety-nine point four percent. Or so the box said.”

  “And now…?”

  Starr shrugged. “I’ll go to New York on Tuesday. I know that much. I’m not sure yet how long I’ll stay, or how I’m going to feel about being there when I get too big to work. I’m figuring I’ll manage somehow.” Her job wouldn’t pay all that much—especially not at first. But there was always her trust money. It was plenty. And she’d have Grandmother Elaine and Grandpa Travis nearby. She doubted they’d bat an eye at her news. They were very…progressive. They traveled in the kind of circles where people had babies all the time without getting married first. It was kind of a joke in the family, really, that their only son was so conservative—and that he’d grown up wanting nothing more than to get back to Wyoming and run the family ranch.

  Tess asked, “And after the baby comes?”

  “I just…don’t know yet. Right now I’m kind of taking it one day at a time.”

  “But you do know you want to keep the baby?”

  They looked at each other. There were tears in Tess’s eyes. Starr felt her own tears rising, tightening her throat. “Can we just not start bawling, okay?”

  Tess swallowed and nodded and looked at the road. “Okay, then. You’re keeping your baby….”


  “Yes. I am.”

  “And since you’re going ahead to New York, I’m taking it you don’t want to marry Beau?”

  Dear God. Beau again. “Look. I told him I loved him, that I wanted to stay here, to get married and maybe build a house next to Daniel’s. All of it, what people do when they love each other and want to be together….”

  “And?”

  “He won’t. He says he’s never getting married. He’s got…issues, when it comes to things like marriage and having kids.”

  “Issues?” Tess wrinkled her nose as if the word had a suspicious smell.

  “Yeah. Issues. Issues about all that old garbage with his family, with his mean, drunk father and his abusive brothers. All that.”

  “But he loves you,” Tess said, as if that solved everything. “Any fool can see that.”

  “Maybe so.”

  “No maybe about it. He does.”

  “Well, for Beau, I guess it’s just not a question of love.”

  “And that is plain idiotic. It’s always a question of love. Why do people do these things to themselves—to each other?” Tess was shaking her head again. “Take your father and me. We were such fools. We told ourselves our marriage was for practical reasons. He needed a good wife, someone like me—a good worker, a woman accustomed to the ranching life. And I needed…security, a stable home where I could do a decent job of raising Jobeth. It took me longer than it should have to realize what I really wanted from him. And then it took him even longer to believe me.”

  Starr wasn’t surprised. “I kind of figured it was something like that.”

  “It was love I really needed from your dad—and it was love that he needed from me. I should have known it from the first. Love can…heal a lot of hurt, you know?”

  “Yeah. So everyone says.” Starr turned away. She stared out her side window, toward Cloud Peak capped in white in the distance.

  Tess made a low sound in her throat. “So…you told Beau you love him and want to marry him.”