Doubting that she would sleep again right away if she went back to bed, and with a decided sense of nostalgia, she went to the attic and returned to the living room with an armful of family photo albums. Before starting on them, though, she went to the kitchen, prepared a pot of herbal tea—she certainly didn’t need caffeine tonight—and finally settled down on the sofa with tea at the ready and the stack of albums.
Some rated only a quick glance and she turned the pages swiftly. But then she came to the one filled with snapshots of her. Who had taken all of these she wondered—her mother, her father, Mrs. Dorsett?
Almost immediately she realized that Keith was in nearly every picture with her. A little brown boy, usually without a shirt, often without shoes, making faces at the camera or caught unaware while in the midst of a game. There he was in his pirate hat, Andrea thought with a soft smile of remembrance. For a while one summer they’d been on a pirate kick and their fort had been a ship at sea. For weeks they had fought off imaginary bad pirates—they’d been good pirates, of course—and saved innocent people from their evil clutches.
As she turned pages, the boy got bigger. She must have been growing, too, but her growth wasn’t as obvious as Keith’s. His shoulders became broader, bony for a while, then gradually filled out with muscle. He’d been a handsome little boy, a beautiful, adorable child, to be perfectly honest, and he’d grown into an extremely handsome adult. He had remarkable good looks, above-average intelligence and an athletic, muscular body. Andrea had to admit he was pretty much the perfect specimen.
She picked up her cup for a swallow of tea. Keith should have had children. He would have fathered incredible children…attractive, smart, active little replicas of himself. Of course, his ex-wife’s genes would have shown in their children, as well. What was her name? Andrea couldn’t remember the woman’s name, but she did recall how pretty she’d been. And only from a few brief sightings, too. Funny what one stored in one’s memory banks, Andrea thought.
For instance, the fact that she and Keith had made love without protection last night. Not that she would ever forget one second of last night. How could she, when she was so torn between resentment for having missed the blood-boiling excitement of wild, raw sex for so long and an uneasy joy over discovering her sensual side again?
Andrea sighed, for she hadn’t encouraged one single man’s interest since Jerry’s demise. There’d been several very nice men who had asked her out, or at least given her the impression that they would like to ask her out, if she would only give them some indication of interest. She hadn’t, of course, not ever. Her hands-off attitude had always served her just fine, but now she wondered about it.
She pondered that for a while, then for some reason again mulled over Keith’s carelessness about protection. Not that he’d been the only careless person in that passion pit of a vehicle he owned. After all, she was as responsible for what they’d done as he was.
But surely she needn’t worry about pregnancy, need she? Frowning suddenly, she got up and raced for a calendar.
“Oh my God,” she whispered after calculating dates. She was smack dab in the middle of her fertile period. Feeling weak as a newborn kitten she stumbled back to the sofa and collapsed. She could be pregnant this very minute! What if she was? What if she and Keith had made a baby at Royal Park?
Andrea’s body was suddenly taut with nervous tension. Just how would Keith take that bit of news, should it be true? Why in God’s name hadn’t he been concerned about the possible outcome of unprotected sex? Had he simply gotten too carried away to remember protection? That explanation made the most sense, although it really made no sense at all. Mature men and women did not take chances like that.
You did!
Yes, she had, and if she had conceived…? Her heart began pounding. A baby? A child?
Stacking the photo albums on the far end of the sofa, Andrea curled her legs under her to think about this very startling possibility.
At the same time something began coalescing in her brain…all the fragments of her thoughts since scanning the snapshots…Keith’s beauty and intelligence…the odds of his fathering beautiful, healthy children…her excellent health. She could be pregnant with Keith’s baby, and could any woman hope for a more physically and intellectually perfect father for her child?
But he didn’t love her, and she didn’t…well, she couldn’t possibly love him, could she? Not that she hadn’t loved him in the past. She’d all but worshipped the ground Keith Owens had walked on, but she’d buried all of those lovely feelings after the night of their big fight.
Why, it was utterly ridiculous to even wonder if she loved Keith. What she felt was simply desire, just her response to his ability to transport her to the stars with kisses and surely the most incredible male body in all of Texas.
They had proved their feelings—or lack of—in the back of Keith’s SUV, hadn’t they? Sexual desire had run rampant, but love? Romance? No, indeed, there had been neither of those emotions spurring them on.
If she really were pregnant, should she even tell him about it? He might figure it out, but would he care? One thing was certain, she would not marry a man she didn’t love and who didn’t love her merely because of a child. She knew how to raise a child without a father. Dozens of women right here in Royal were single moms doing a very good job of it. And who understood toddlers better than a nursery-school teacher?
But what would she tell her friends? Pouring more tea into her cup, telling herself to calm down and not succeeding, she pondered people’s reactions to her having a child without a husband.
But it was such a simple solution, really. Women all over the globe were having babies with the use of sperm banks. That was what she could tell her friends, prepare them ahead of time for the big event, in fact. “I want a child and I’m going to that fertility clinic in Dallas.” Everyone would understand; everyone would accept, because her friends knew how much she adored children. A few might be surprised that she would go to such lengths to have a baby at her age, but perhaps her age would work in her favor. After all, how many years did she still have to conceive, carry and give birth to her own child?
And Keith probably wouldn’t care even if he did figure it out. He’d wanted her sexually, perhaps he always had. It was entirely possible that one time in her arms was enough for him. She might never hear from him again!
Andrea’s heart sank. Considering his sweet good-night kiss after driving her home and then his plea to come in with her, once probably wasn’t enough. It was undoubtedly going to be up to her to end their relationship and put plenty of time between tonight—if she was actually pregnant, of course—and the future.
Could she do it? She had mastered her facade of dignity and decorum to protect and guard her privacy, but she could not claim to be overloaded with courage. This would take a shocking amount of deceit. Not just once or twice, either, but for the rest of her life. She couldn’t factor leaving Royal in her plan, for it was home and the thought of living anywhere else, where she knew no one, was horrifying. No, she would stay put and should her and Keith’s paths cross in the future—it was bound to happen—she would deal with it.
It all seemed so feasible, so possible if she kept her cool. Envisioning telling Keith that she was pregnant and watching him wriggle out of any sort of permanent arrangement because he was going to be a father would be more painful for Andrea than not telling him at all.
And so, she decided again and with a tear in her eye, if it were true she would have her baby by herself and raise it by herself. Tears suddenly dribbled down her cheeks. She’d given up long ago on ever having a child, but here was her dearest wish in the palm of her hand, or it seemed to be. Something very powerful—instinct, female intuition—told her that she had conceived tonight. She’d heard women say, “I knew I was pregnant the moment we made love,” and now she knew exactly how they had felt. She wept with both joy and sadness.
She finally returned to bed and eventua
lly slept again, but what had seemed sane, sensible and attainable in the middle of the night seemed nothing short of appallingly dishonest in the morning. Rubbing her eyes wearily, totally discarding her ridiculous notion of being pregnant after making love only one time and then deliberately keeping it from Keith because he didn’t love her, she hauled herself out of bed, changed to running clothes and left the house. But she ran with more care, as she knew she would do everything until she found out if she was pregnant or not.
A long hot shower felt wonderful when she got back, and after some fruit and cereal for breakfast she got dressed for church.
That Sunday morning she drove past the church she usually attended and took the road to Midland. It was only fifty miles away, and she would make the eleven o’clock service. She did that occasionally, but never had she made that drive with such a heavy conscience. The serenity of the lovely old church and the beauty of the holy songs from the choir soothed Andrea’s troubled spirit.
Back in Royal she decided to stop at the diner for lunch before going home. After locating a parking place only a short distance from the eatery, Andrea went in. If one wanted to touch base with stability or some sense of longevity, this was the place to come, she thought as she looked around for an empty booth. The Royal Diner never changed. Various employees had come and gone through the years, but the cracked red Formica that topped counter, tables and booths was almost comforting in its constancy. Also, any patron who had eaten there before knew that Manny, the cook, served up some mighty fine fare, especially his burgers and coconut cream pies.
Andrea walked to the only empty booth, sat down and then took note of the other people in the place. Recognizing several, she smiled, nodded and tried to look as cool and collected as she usually did. The courtesy was returned, but no one got up and came over to her booth. Glad that the other patrons were only acquaintances and she wouldn’t have to get involved in any sort of conversation, she waited for the waitress.
A glass of water and a plastic-coated menu were set in front of her. Andrea looked up to say thanks and saw Laura Edwards, who seemed to be even more haggard than she’d been at the Cattleman’s Ball.
“Hello, Laura,” Andrea said quietly, forgetting her own problems for the moment.
“Hello.”
“You remember me, don’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Would you like a few minutes to look over the menu, or are you ready to order now?”
Andrea frowned slightly, for Laura’s entire demeanor was distant and unfriendly. “I’ll order now…a hamburger, well done, and a chocolate malt.”
“Thanks.” Laura hurried away.
Andrea felt truly rebuffed, but Laura’s unnecessary coldness only made Andrea more certain than ever that something was terribly amiss in the waitress’s life. Laura had lost weight, and the circles under her eyes evidenced a rocky road of some sort; those signs pointed to an abusive relationship in Andrea’s opinion, for she’d seen that same haunted, scared-rabbit expression on the faces of battered women who’d sought safety at the New Hope shelter.
Sighing over her helplessness with Laura—neither she nor anyone else could ease another person’s burdens if they refused all offers of assistance—Andrea turned her thoughts back to her own worries. If Keith decided to stay hot on her trail, there was no way she could keep him away. Hadn’t she tried to do exactly that since the ball? She could decide to ignore him and tell him to leave her alone till she was blue in the face and he would still keep turning up like a bad penny, if he chose to. What did he want from her, other than the obvious?
Thinking of herself as any man’s sex toy made her feel squeamish in the stomach and she hailed Laura. When the waitress came over, Andrea asked, “Is it too late to cancel my order? I’m not feeling very well.”
“Came on you just like that?” Laura intoned.
“I’m sorry, but there’s no way I could eat…anything. If you can’t cancel, I’ll just pay for it now and leave.”
“Let me check with Manny.” She hurried off.
Andrea took a sip of water and tried to will away the nausea. Everyone has problems, she told herself. You certainly can’t get so upset that you become physically ill over yours.
Laura came back. “It’s fine. You don’t have to pay.”
“Thank you, Laura.” Andrea laid down two one-dollar bills. “For your trouble,” she murmured.
“You weren’t any trouble.”
“Laura, do you still have the card I gave you the night of the ball?” Andrea had to ask. Whether Laura wanted help or not, she had to offer it.
“I…think so.”
Andrea quickly dug in her purse. “I’m going to give you another one. I know something’s wrong, and while I suspect what it is, I can’t be sure unless you talk about it. At the same time I understand your reluctance to confide in anyone. But if things get too bad to deal with on your own, please, please call me.”
Laura took the card and slipped it in a pocket of her uniform. “Thanks, Andrea.”
“You’re welcome.” Andrea slid from the booth.
“I hope you feel better.”
“I’m sure I will.” Actually, Andrea started feeling better the second she was outside. It must have been the smell of all that greasy food, she thought as she began walking toward her car. She’d have a bowl of soup at home. Besides, she really wasn’t all that hungry.
She had so much to think about that the afternoon flew by without her realizing it. It was about seven that evening that Keith’s silence began to seem unusual. He really didn’t give a damn about her, she thought morosely, not even a little, nor did he respect her enough to call the morning after. The entire day after, to be more accurate.
After an hour or so of beating herself up with that sort of self-inflicted misery, something finally gelled in her brain. Keith hadn’t called because he wasn’t going to call. Not ever again. He’d gotten what he’d wanted all along, and that had been the end of it for him.
Andrea had considered that scenario before, but now that she believed it with all her heart, her legs got shaky and she had to sit down. After a few minutes her pulse rate had quickened fearfully and her throat had gotten too dry to even swallow. Hurrying to the kitchen for a glass of water, she stood at the sink to drink it while tears coursed down her cheeks. Keith had gotten the only thing he’d wanted from her!
“You fool,” she whispered raggedly, nearly choking on a sob. Why did this hurt so much? Wasn’t it what she’d wanted all along?
Or had she really been hoping for the opposite and kidding herself?
Nine
Two weeks later, Andrea tended her class of toddlers with only half her mind on them; the other half was focused on that small empty chair at the back of the room and the painful fact of Keith’s ongoing silence. She was past cursing herself for a fool and now she merely felt empty.
Using flash cards bearing numbers and letters of the alphabet in bright colors, she numbly went through the motions of testing her little ones’ level of recognition. Later, when she read to them she recalled how enchantingly Keith had read the “cluck-cluck” story. Wondering if she should really believe that he’d suddenly started to like children, as he’d told her, Andrea pursed her lips angrily.
Oddly, anger revived her pride and sense of dignity, and when it came time to leave for the day she exited the building with her head held high and not so much as a glimmer of hope that Keith would be waiting for her in the parking lot. He wasn’t, of course, and she got in her car and drove home actually relishing the fury she felt. She might never get the chance to tell him face-to-face how much she despised him, but then again she might, and that would give her boundless pleasure!
By the middle of the week, Andrea was weary of living on rage.
That morning, she had driven to an unfamiliar shopping center with a massive drug store and purchased two home pregnancy tests. The drive back to Royal had been conducted with a great deal of anxiety, all because of those upco
ming tests. She wanted to know and she didn’t want to know, and it bothered Andrea terribly to be so ambiguous. But this was not a trivial matter. This was quite possibly the most untrivial undertaking of her life.
The first thing she had done when she’d gotten home was to check her voice mail. There had been brief messages from two women friends who had merely called to chat. That was all. Andrea had been disappointed that Keith had not called, even though she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear from him.
She sat on her bed and gingerly took out the two packaged pregnancy tests, almost as though they had teeth and the ability to bite her. This was nerve-wracking, she acknowledged, probably because she wanted so passionately to have a child. She’d always wanted a child, and if the tests came out negative she was going to be terribly disappointed.
An hour later she was weeping quietly, but not from disappointment. Both tests had come out positive: she was pregnant! She had some decisions to make, primarily whether she was going to follow her usual routine of not teaching during the summer months. Kiddie Kingdom was open year-around, with two-to four-week break intervals scattered among four approximately two-month terms. Most of the school’s employees took one of those terms off and Andrea had always chosen the summer term for her annual break. This year, of course, was different from any other. Her decision now wasn’t about taking one break but whether she should completely retire from teaching. First, though, before she did anything so rash as that, she planned to see an obstetrician. She was convinced of her condition, but she was thirty-eight and this was her first child. Making sure that everything was all right seemed crucial to her.
Her friend Rebecca surprised her with a phone call and some questions that afternoon. “Andrea, is something wrong? I haven’t heard from you recently and I was worried. What’s the matter, Andrea? Surely you know you can tell me anything.”
The Bachelor Takes a Wife Page 11