by Joy Nash
His gaze dropped to her stomach. “Are you…”
“It’s a few days too early to tell.”
He met her gaze. “You’ll call me if you are, won’t you?”
She didn’t answer.
He paced nearer, closing the distance between them until only the glass sales counter separated them. “If you’re carrying my child, Tori, I want to be part of his life.”
“Even if you didn’t want him in the first place?”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “And…I’ve done some thinking. If you’re pregnant, I’ll marry you. If that’s what you want, I mean.”
Her heart nearly left her body. I’ll marry you. She’d longed for those words, but not like this. Never like this.
“You’re proposing?” She felt very far away, as if she weren’t there at all.
Nick shoved his fists into his pockets. “If you’re pregnant, we should do the right thing. A child should have parents who’re married.” He rocked backward on his heels. “When he’s first born, at the very least.”
“So.” The syllable echoed oddly over the rushing sound in her ears. “Let me get this straight. You want to marry me so your child won’t be…what? Illegitimate?”
“That’s right.”
“And then we can divorce afterward?”
“I didn’t say that. I…care about you, Tori. I think we could make a go of it.” He grimaced. “I’d like to try, anyway.”
“But only if I’m pregnant.”
He swore under his breath. “I’m making a mess of this.”
“Yes, you are.” The rushing noise mounted to a roar as rage kicked in. “What makes you think a proposal from you is such a great deal for me? What makes you think I’ll say yes? This is the twenty-first century, Nick. There is no way I’m going to marry a man just because he forgot to wear a condom.”
“Tori, look, I—”
“If you’re smart, you’ll leave. Now. Without saying another word.”
She flung her anger at him; it became almost a visible barrier between them. She wanted him to knock it down. She wanted him to reach past her hurt and her rage and drag her into his arms. She wanted him to kiss her, to tell her his proposal wasn’t just about the baby. She wanted him to say that he loved her, that he couldn’t live without her, that he would die if she didn’t say yes.
He didn’t say any of those things. He just clenched his jaw so tight she thought it would snap. And then he walked out the door. Again.
She got her period the next day.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Life can get lonely, with or without a family.
Nick shook hands with the Atlantic City building inspector. Thank God almighty, Bayview was a wrap. He wouldn’t miss this job—hell, he’d be thrilled just to break even when the accounting was done. Excusing himself, he stepped into the job trailer to check his voice mail.
There was a message from Tori.
His gut clenched. It had been two days since he’d seen her. She must know by now whether or not she was carrying his child.
His child.
A baby he didn’t want. He was sure of that, but despite his certainty, images blossomed in his mind, and they weren’t all horrific. In one, Tori cradled a newborn, the child suckling at her breast. Breast-feeding had been something Cindy’d flatly refused to do, no matter how much Nonna and Rita had coaxed her. But Nick was sure Tori would want to nurse their baby.
In another flash he saw himself on the beach, building an enormous sand castle. Leigh used to love that. He covered tiny toddler legs with wet sand, heard the giggles, felt a sloppy kiss on his cheek. He’d worked so much when Leigh was a baby that memories like those were scarce. If Tori were pregnant, things would be different. Despite the fiasco this Bayview job had turned out to be, his business was a lot more stable now. He could make time. He could make sure he and his new son or daughter had more of those moments.
“Yo, Nick,” a voice said.
He started, coming back to his surroundings, phone still cradled in his hand. He looked up at his job super.
“Yeah, Joe?”
“Southerland’s here. He wants to go over the punch list. Says there are a couple of things we gotta take care of.”
“Tell him I’ll be there in five.”
“Will do.”
The trailer door banged closed. Nick punched in the code for his voice mail, his heart pounding as he waited for Tori’s message to come over the line.
“Nick? This is Tori. I, um…” A pause. “I just wanted you to know—there’s not a baby. I got my period yesterday.” Another pause. “Don’t, um…don’t bother calling back, okay?”
He snapped the phone shut, but couldn’t seem to stop staring at it. Tori wasn’t pregnant. Hallelujah.
He waited for relief to flood through him.
It didn’t come.
Instead, he was awash with regrets.
Tori cried enough tears to fill one of Nick’s five-gallon spackle buckets. She closed the shop and spent three days in bed, sweating in the awful heat, nearly bent double from the cramps. She wasn’t pregnant with Nick’s child.
Every time she thought about it, she started crying again.
Finally, on day four, she pulled herself together and got out of bed. She had to accept the fact that her time with Nick had just been a small detour on her life road. She needed to get back on track. But how?
She’d soured on the whole sperm donor idea. It was a great choice for some people, she supposed. Like Chelsea and Mags, or hetero couples who needed help conceiving. But for her, it just didn’t feel right anymore. So she stiffened her spine and went back to Dr. Janssen.
They had a serious talk. The thought of surgery made Tori feel light-headed and queasy, but she was determined to go through with it. It was her best option for preserving her fertility for the future. Someday, if she met the right man to be a real father for her child, she would think again about becoming a mother. But for now, she had to put her energy into getting over Nick.
The heat wave broke that night, a black storm blowing in from the north. The nor’easter poured buckets, and the next day was windy and unseasonably cool for August. Another storm threatened. Beachgoers headed inland, to the malls and movie theaters, leaving Tori pacing an empty shop.
Finally, at quarter to six, she gave up and turned the sign in the window from OPEN TO CLOSED.
She walked down to the beach. The wind was brisk and steady. It whipped stinging sand like pepper shot across her calves. Tufts of yellow sea foam formed a jagged line along the shore. She walked into the wind, picking her way through the detritus coughed up by the sea. A frayed plastic rope, a piece of splintered driftwood. A tangled fishing line.
She should’ve walked in the other direction. Or better yet, stayed off the beach entirely. But she couldn’t seem to help herself. The footprints she made in the sand led directly to the beach in front of Nick’s house.
She blinked as she saw Leigh and Sophie at the water’s edge. Leigh was staring out to sea, hands slung into the pockets of a red-and-white Beach Patrol windbreaker that was much too large for her. Jason’s, Tori thought. Sophie, a red plastic bucket in hand, scrambled back and forth near the water, head bent as she searched among the scattered shells for treasure.
“Hey,” Leigh said when she saw Tori. Jason’s jacket nearly swallowed her whole.
“Leigh. How’ve you been?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Tori!” Sophie sped toward her, brown curls flying in the wind, her pink Lucy-the-elephant sweatshirt a blur. “Tori, guess what? I get to sleep at Leigh’s house tonight!”
Tori smiled down at her. “That’s great, sweetie.”
Sophie grinned, then turned and scampered back to the ocean. Tori turned to Leigh. “Have you been working at your dad’s office?”
“No. I haven’t seen much of him at all since—” She cut herself off and sighed. “Since that last day at your shop. He practically lives at the office now.”
“I guess he’s busy with work.”
“Yeah. He always is.”
Sophie ran back to them. “Look, Tori! I found a starfish.”
Leigh peered into the plastic bucket. “Hey, you did.”
Tori crouched down beside her. “It’s beautiful.”
“I named him Starrie,” Sophie said. “Can I keep him?”
“No,” Leigh told her. “He’s still alive. You have to throw him back.”
Sophie’s bottom lip bulged. “But I wanna keep Starrie. He can be my pet.”
“He won’t like that,” Tori said. “He belongs in the ocean. He’ll only die if you try to keep him.” She laid a hand on Sophie’s skinny shoulder. “Think how sad you’d be then.”
Sophie pouted. “But if I throw Starrie back, I’ll be sad now.”
Leigh and Tori exchanged glances.
Leigh hunkered down beside Tori and Sophie. “But what about Starrie’s family? His mom and dad are probably looking for him.”
Sophie’s brown eyes widened. “You think so?”
“Yes,” Tori put in. “His brothers and sisters are probably looking for him, too.”
“And his Nonna?”
“Yep,” Leigh said. “You wouldn’t want to make Starrie’s whole family sad, would you?”
Sophie tilted her head, her forehead creased in a frown. “I guess not,” she said with a sigh. She headed back toward the ocean, her feet dragging now, her bucket slapping her leg. She paused before she reached the water, though, captivated by some new treasure.
“Thanks,” Leigh said as they both stood. “She would’ve been screaming after I pitched Starrie back in.”
Tori’s gaze lingered on Sophie’s tangled curls. “I miss her.”
“She’s been asking about you, too.”
The wind gusted, raising goose bumps on her bare arms. She shivered, hugging herself. She should’ve worn a wind-breaker, like Leigh.
“I miss you, too,” Leigh said softly. “Let me come back to work for you.”
“I don’t think your father would go for that.”
She hunched against the wind. “I don’t care.”
“That’s not true. You love him.”
“So do you, Tori. And…I know he cares about you. I ruined it for you.”
“Oh, Leigh.” She saw tears on the girl’s face and she knew they weren’t from the wind. “What happened between your father and me wasn’t your fault.”
“Yes, it was. He wouldn’t have been so angry with you if I hadn’t lied to him.”
“Lied? About what?”
Leigh looked at her toes. “I told him Jason and I had…you know, done it. With one of the condoms you’d given me. But it wasn’t true. We were going to, but at the last minute I remembered what you told me.”
Tori’s face must have been a complete blank. What had she told Leigh? She couldn’t remember, exactly.
Leigh took a gulp of air and forged on. “You know, about the pink satin sheets and champagne?”
Tori blinked. “And you remembered that?”
“Yeah. I did. And you know what, Tori? I decided I want that, too. That’s why I told Jason I wanted to wait. He was disappointed at first, but now we’re okay.”
“I’m glad you were honest with him.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you still sneaking out to see him?” Tori asked. “Or has your dad eased up on the two of you?”
She bit her lip. “Dad will never ease up. Not after I told him I’d slept with Jason. I don’t even know why I said that—I just got so mad when he assumed we were doing it. Now he won’t even listen to me when I try to tell him the truth.”
She swiped a hand across her eyes. “So you see? It’s all my fault you two split up.”
Tori gave her a hug. “It’s not. Nick and I have plenty of differences that have nothing to do with you. Please don’t blame yourself.”
She drew back, but Leigh didn’t’ meet her eyes. She looked toward the ocean instead.
And cried out, “Oh, my God. Sophie!”
Tori’s eyes snapped to the sea. Sophie, still clutching her red bucket, stood chest-deep in the rough surf.
Leigh took off at a sprint. “Sophie! Get back here!”
The little girl turned and waved. “I’m sending Starrie home!”
Leigh shouted as a large swell rose behind Sophie; Tori sprang into motion, running toward the water. Leigh plunged in. Tori was right behind her. The leading edge of the swell became a line of writhing foam, poised to break over Sophie’s head.
“Sophie!” Leigh screamed. “Behind you. Watch out! Hold your breath!”
Sophie turned and shrieked. The breaker crashed, consuming her in froth. The red bucket shot to the surface, bounced once, and disappeared.
“Oh, God.” Leigh dove into the spot where Sophie had been.
Tori stood waist-high in the water, her skirt wrapped around her legs like seaweed. Frantically, she tracked the churning sea.
Nothing.
“Sophie!” she yelled.
Leigh surfaced, sputtering. “God, there’s a wicked undertow. Do you see her?”
“No.”
The single word was all Tori could manage. Panic clogged her throat. The ocean was a dark, dirty maelstrom. “I—Wait.” She spotted Sophie’s head, bobbing a good twenty yards out to sea.
“There!” she shouted, pointing.
“I’ll go after her.” Leigh gasped. “You go for help.”
“No.” Tori clawed at her skirt, ripping it off. “I’m a strong swimmer. I’ll go.”
The ocean swelled, blocking Sophie from sight.
“But—” Leigh began.
“Go!” Sucking a lungful of air, Tori flung herself in Sophie’s direction.
She caught sight of Sophie’s head bobbing on a wave. Her little arms thrashed. Tori stroked hard, praying Leigh would bring help in time. Her arms were burning with exhaustion by the time she reached Sophie. She grabbed the girl’s waterlogged sweatshirt.
“Sophie! Hold on to me.”
She heaved Sophie upward, dunking herself in the process. Before she could break the surface, Sophie had climbed up her body, wrapping her in a choke hold.
Tori slipped under, taking Sophie with her.
She struggled to pry the girl’s thin arms from her neck as she kicked upward. She broke the surface, gasping. Immediately, Sophie locked her arms around Tori’s neck.
“No! Don’t let me go!”
Tori managed to cough up a mouthful of water before the ocean heaved again. Sophie screamed, battling to climb up on her shoulders.
“Sophie! Stay still! I can’t hold you if you’re moving.”
Another wave sloshed, driving them both under. By the time Tori got them to the surface again, Sophie was choking.
She thrust the child skyward. “Breathe, Sophie. Breathe.”
Sophie coughed and drew a whooshing breath.
“That’s it, sweetie. Now just…relax and let me carry you. I promise I won’t let go.”
Tori looked toward shore. It seemed impossibly far away. While she’d been struggling with Sophie, the rip current had sucked them farther out to sea. Already, she was exhausted. She’d never be able to swim all the way back to the shore. She only hoped she’d be able to keep them both afloat until help arrived.
Then a wave lifted them, and Tori realized she had a more pressing problem.
The current was driving them toward the rock jetty.
Chapter Thirty
A family in crisis pulls together.
Nick was retrieving his briefcase from his truck when Leigh stumbled over the beach access stairs, drenched and gasping.
“Dad!”
He met her in the middle of the street. “What? What is it?”
She doubled over, coughing. “Sophie. She waded in too far…got caught by the undertow. Tori went in…after her….”
He shoved his cell phone at her. “Call nine-one-one.”
He took the steps three at a tim
e and hit the beach running.
The Atlantic stretched wide, a gray ribbon of snarling surf. The sky hung low and heavy. Huge raindrops fell, peppering the sand with tiny craters. Nick scanned the waves, his stomach in a free fall.
He couldn’t see them.
He skidded to a stop at the shore, his heart tripping like a jackhammer as his eyes scoured the water’s surface. Then, thank God almighty, he spotted them.
They were close to the rock jetty and drifting closer, two heads bobbing like corks in the rough sea. A rising swell sloshed them, drove them under. Nick tore off his work boots, kicked off his pants, and dove through the breakers. He threw himself at Tori, stroking hard, keeping his head above water, unwilling to let her out of his sight. Jesus. If she went under…
He never should’ve let things end between them. He should’ve gone to her after he’d gotten that last voice mail. But it had hurt, damn it, that she’d not even bothered to tell him about the baby in person. Her voice had been so cold. Distant.
Don’t bother calling back, she’d said. He’d heard it as, I don’t want you to call. And who could blame her? He’d let her down.
He only hoped he wasn’t about to do it again.
Nick was there, in the water.
At first, Tori didn’t believe her eyes. She thought maybe it was a hallucination, her most desperate wish sprung to life.
“Tori!”
But no. He was real.
He stroked hard, closing the distance between them. Hauling her close, he cradled her body against his hard chest, kicking viciously to keep Sophie’s head above water.
“Nick—” A wave sloshed and Tori sputtered.
He wrapped his right arm under Tori’s arms and across her chest. She clutched Sophie in front of her. Stroking hard with his left arm, he set an oblique course for shore, away from the rocks, at a cross-angle to the current.
“How long has she been out?” he gasped.
“Since that last big wave hit…”
“Only a few seconds, then.”
“Yes.”
Tori slipped in his arms. He muttered a curse as he renewed his hold. But he’d stopped stroking to do it, and they’d lost the progress they’d made.