Unexpectedly Yours
Page 12
Concern still lingered in Amber’s face. “Is it Derek? I couldn’t help noticing you turning white when you saw him over there. What’s going on?”
Hannah curled her fingers around the handle of her shopping basket and forced herself to meet her friend’s gaze. “Nothing. We had a brief…thing, but it’s over now.” She hesitated, wanting to blurt out her confusion, but now wasn’t the time. Not in the middle of the supermarket with her insides heaving. She pushed the hair away from her clammy brow. “I’m not feeling all that hot. I’ve been exhausted for days, and my stomach cramps are giving me hell.”
Amber made a sympathetic noise. “Aw, sounds like it’s that time of the month. What you need is a warm bath, some Aspirin, and a big block of chocolate.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right.”
Her friend bit her lip. “I’m late getting back to the store. Are you sure you can manage on your own?”
Hannah nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. You’d better go.”
Amber gave her a hug and a kiss and hurried away.
Clutching her basket, Hannah meandered into the next aisle and gazed at the shelves stacked with chocolate. She reached for the biggest block. The way she was feeling she’d need plenty of this stuff… Her hand froze. Wait a minute. When last had she needed chocolate to get her through that time of the month? A thick fog of panic blinded her as she feverishly tried to count back in her head. Oh…oh, it hadn’t been that long ago, had it? Five, six weeks…?
Her knees wobbled as all the strength drained from her body. No, oh no. This could not be happening. They’d been careful, every time. She was positive about that. Had they somehow forgotten while lost in the haze of lust? No, no. It couldn’t be. But maybe something had failed. Maybe she was…
She gasped out a retching sound, clinging to a shelf as her world began to spin around her. She had to find out soon, one way or the other, or the suspense would drive her mad. Feeling stupefied, she staggered toward the aisle where they kept the women’s health products.
Chapter Twelve
“And if you need any help after hours, just call Mrs. Pascoe,” Derek said to his grandfather.
“I can look after myself,” Otto grumped. “She’ll charge you extra to come out after hours.”
Mrs. Pascoe was Otto’s third care assistant. She had completed three full days now, which was three more than the previous two assistants. Derek only hoped she’d last.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said. “Just call her. Or me. All my numbers are programmed into your handset.”
“Yes, yes, you don’t have to remind me again. I’m not senile yet.” Otto waved him off. “Now get going. You’ve got a long drive ahead of you.”
He said his good-byes to Otto. It didn’t take long. No hugs, no insincere sentiments. His granddad’s farewell was as gruff and brief as always. Derek didn’t expect anything more, had stopped expecting more from his grandpa a long time ago. A minute later he was off.
It was a sunny morning, a good day to hit the road. Without any delays, he could be back in L.A. by this evening. His house, tucked into the hills, waited for him. He’d been proud to finally own his home, but now for the first time the thought of it only made his gut twist more. Hannah hadn’t turned up at Jimmy’s last night. Caleb had told him she wasn’t feeling well, and Derek had wondered all night if she was avoiding him. Now, he realized that he couldn’t leave without seeing her one more time. Whatever had happened between them, they were still friends, and friends didn’t leave town without saying good-bye.
She might be at work, but he’d try her home first. As he neared her house, he spotted her aging Ford parked in the driveway, and his palms instantly grew damp. He got out of his SUV and wiped his hands across the seat of his jeans, wishing he wasn’t so nervous.
He knocked on the door. The seconds ticked by as his knock remained unanswered. He was halfway to raising his hand again when the door opened, and Hannah peered up at him.
Her expression froze. “Derek?”
“Can I come in? I won’t take much of your time.”
She capitulated silently, allowing him into the living room.
Hannah didn’t look great. Dark circles under her eyes emphasized her wan skin. Her hair hung loose and tangled down her back, and she was dressed in a sloppy T-shirt and leggings.
“You look like hell,” he blurted out and then wanted to kick himself.
“Gee, thanks for the compliment.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He peered at her more closely. “I heard you were sick last night. Are you still feeling bad?”
She quickly pushed back her shoulders and crossed her arms. “Not too bad.”
But she looked fragile and delicate, and that made him feel like a lumbering idiot. He scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, did Caleb get around to fixing those kitchen shelves of yours?”
“Not yet.” Her knuckles turned white as she dug her fingernails into her arms. Why was she so tense around him?
“Maybe I could take a look at them.” He waited for her to tell him not to bother, but she didn’t. Her eyes were fixed on him, wide and troubled. His nerves tingled with apprehension as he walked to the kitchen.
The shelves above the kitchen counter leaned drunkenly to one side, caused by a bracket that had come loose from the wall.
“I can fix that in five minutes,” he said to Hannah. “All I need is a couple of wall screws and a power drill.”
She shook her head. “I don’t have any tools.”
“I’ll be right back.” Fortunately, he always carried a set of basic tools in the trunk of his car. He found what he needed and returned to the kitchen. Hannah was slumped on a stool with her arms wrapped around her middle. When she saw him, her back quickly straightened, the air of tension returning to her.
He set to work on the shelf. In a few minutes he finished the job and tested the shelf. Rock solid and perfectly horizontal.
“Thank you,” Hannah murmured.
He wound up the cord of his power drill and swept up the dust he’d caused. There was nothing else he could do here to delay his departure. Drawing in a breath, he turned to face her.
“I’m driving back to L.A. today.”
A deep emotion flashed across her face, something almost like dread, then she gulped and visibly steeled herself.
“Yes, I know.”
He waited for her to say something more, but she didn’t. He shifted on his feet. “I start filming again on Monday.”
She gave an infinitesimal nod. “You’re probably glad to get back to work.”
Her words felt like a dismissal. He frowned at his grubby hands. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom to wash up before I go?”
Wordless, she shook her head, and he left the kitchen. The bathroom was at the end of the hall. It had been scrubbed and painted, but no amount of cleaning could hide the cracked tiles and dark yellow stains around the faucets. His indignation rose. That sonofabitch ex-husband of hers was a dirtbag. She’d put him through medical school, worked her ass off to support his dream of becoming a plastic surgeon, and now she was paying the price for her generosity.
Derek grabbed the soap and washed his hands vigorously. As he dried himself on the towel, his gaze fell on the waste bin just below. It didn’t hold much, just an empty cardboard box with some pink writing on it. He frowned as he read the label. Was that…? No, it couldn’t be. He squinted more closely at the box. Jesus Christ. It is. Does that mean… His heart stalled, and then it started juddering like a motor about to catch on fire.
Hannah sank back onto the stool feeling as limp as wet lettuce. Derek’s surprise visit had shaken her, and now that he was here, she had a decision to make.
How can I tell him? She couldn’t do it, but she had to. She couldn’t let him go without…
Footsteps in the hallway. Derek reappeared in the kitchen. His face was like granite, and his eyes—oh, she’d never seen his eyes blazing with such cold, pent-up fury. He held
up something in front of her, a familiar-looking cardboard box shaking in his fist.
“Mind telling me what’s going on?” His voice was tight and barely controlled.
The pit of Hannah’s stomach fell away. Oh damn. The empty box. Why had she left it in plain sight?
She moistened her dry lips. “It—it’s really too early to tell.”
“Oh yeah? The box says it’s an early detection pregnancy test. Ninety-nine percent accurate from the day your period is due.” He lowered the box and pinned her with his laser-sharp blue stare, making her feel like an impaled insect. “Well? Obviously you’re late, which was why you did the test. What did it say?”
Desperation clogged her brain. She owed him the truth.
“It, uh, came out positive…” His expression altered, his eyelids flickering, and she hurried on, “But it’s still early days. It could be a false alarm. Things have been so hectic lately that I wouldn’t be surprised if that was affecting my hormones.” She was blabbering, grasping at straws. Trying to convince herself as much as him.
“When did you do the test?” he asked.
“Yesterday.”
After she’d gotten home with the pregnancy test, she’d spent hours talking herself out of the need to take it, but in the end she realized she’d never be able to sleep without knowing the results. So, she’d done the test and spent the night sleepless anyway, tossing between disbelief, dismay, and sheer panic. In the morning, she’d checked the test stick again, but the blue positive symbol was still there, telling her that her already rocky life had just hit one gigantic roadblock.
“And you were happy to let me go back to L.A. without telling me?” Anger snaked through Derek’s voice.
The tension snapped in her. “Oh yeah, I’m just ecstatic. Can’t you tell?” She leaped to her feet and gesticulated fervently. “This wasn’t supposed to happen. We were careful! We used a condom every time, didn’t we?”
He blinked at her. “Yeah, sure, of course we did.”
But she wasn’t on the pill anymore, and the effectiveness of condoms was around 98 percent. Trust her luck to fall into the other 2 percent. A bilious wave rolled over her.
“Oh, Derek. I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, I’m not blaming you.” He set the empty cardboard box on the table and moved to her. “You don’t have to apologize, except maybe for keeping me in the dark. Were you really not going to tell me?”
“I would have told you. Eventually.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair. “Christ, I still can’t get my head around it. A baby.”
His stunned expression made her insides contort. “I know how you feel about kids. That day at the lake…”
He grimaced before drawing in a deep breath. “I remember what I said, but that was hypothetical. We’ve got a real situation here, and we’re going to deal with it together.”
Derek’s calm maturity surprised her. Rick wouldn’t have been so understanding; he would have been furious and blamed her for not taking care of the contraception. But though she was relieved, she couldn’t allow herself to rely too much on Derek.
“Derek,” she said softly but firmly, “I appreciate that, but there’s no need for you to get involved. I can deal with this myself.”
His face grayed. “You—you’re not going to…” He swallowed hard, looking like he was about to vomit. He grasped both her upper arms, his hands shaking. “Hannah, please, not that.”
It dawned on her what he assumed she was contemplating. “No, of course not!” The bleakness in his eyes shook her. Gently she pried herself free. “Look, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. I know that pregnancy test kit claims to be accurate, but I’m going to wait another week before I start worrying. And if I am pregnant, I can handle that on my own.”
“And how exactly are you going to do that? How are you going to juggle nursing school, part-time work, and a baby? I know you’re not afraid of hard work, but even you’re not Superwoman.”
“I’d have to postpone nursing school, of course.” Her heart spasmed at the thought of giving up on her dreams…but she had to be practical. “I’d try to get a permanent job at Avalon House. The rent on this place isn’t much, and I’ve got my family and friends nearby. I’m sure I can manage. It’s not like I’m the first single mother ever in Pine Falls.”
Derek shook his head. “You’ve got it all figured out, haven’t you? Doesn’t sound like this baby needs a father at all.”
His sarcasm made her flush. She gazed at him with new eyes. Good God, to think that the boy who’d hung out with her kid brother was the father of her baby. How crazy was that?
She swallowed hard. “We might be arguing over nothing because there might not even be a baby.”
He sighed, dropped his head. “I guess so.”
“Until I know more, I think you should go back to L.A. like you planned.”
“Right now?” His jaw dropped. “You expect me to get in my car and drive back like none of this happened?”
“You won’t change anything by staying.”
“But you look like crap—hell, I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant you look like you could use some support.”
She felt like crying. If Derek thought she looked like crap now, wait until she was nine months pregnant and as big as a house. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into, and she was in no fit state to enlighten him.
“Yes, right now. I’ll wait a week, and if my period still doesn’t come, I’ll visit the doctor and call you as soon as I know something definite. Promise.”
He rubbed his face in frustration. “Hell, Hannah. I don’t know how I’m going to wait another week.”
“Do what I’m going to do, which is carry on as if nothing has changed.”
Dropping his hand from his face, he stepped closer. “Dammit, that was selfish of me. You must be going through hell.” He tentatively touched her shoulder. “How are you feeling? Any morning sickness yet? Maybe you should be resting.”
His concern almost broke her down. After the past twelve hours of trying to hold herself together, how wonderful it would be to rest her head on his chest and let him take some of the burden. But was he strong enough? And if she gave in, would she be able to let him go?
She pasted a smile on her lips. “I’m doing okay.”
Derek kneaded his knuckles, his face strained. He wasn’t over the shock yet, she could see. “I want you to know I’m not going to run away.”
“I-it’s early days. Anything could happen.”
His frown remained. “I won’t shirk my responsibilities.”
And there was the kicker. She and the unborn baby were his responsibilities, like his granddad, and just like Grandpa Otto, he would visit her and take care of her because it was his duty. A sigh of pain escaped her.
“I know you won’t.” She swallowed. “You’re a great guy, Derek.”
“Christ, I wish you wouldn’t say that.”
She tried to lighten the mood. “Okay, you’re a terrible guy, Derek.”
“Don’t say that either.”
He turned away, his neck and shoulders rigid. She should have stepped back, allowed him breathing space, but the sight of him bit into her, and she moved closer and spread her hands tentatively across his shoulder blades.
“Derek,” she began, “I wish—”
Before she could even formulate a sentence, he whipped around, and his fierce expression made her falter back.
“You know why you’re pushing me away? Because you’re scared.”
“What?”
“You’re scared to let go, to live the life you want. It’s how you’ve always been. You’ve always been too ready to sacrifice yourself for others. When your mom ran off, you were happy taking care of your dad, Caleb, your grandpa. And then when that wasn’t enough, you switched to supporting Rick through medical school. You did all that not just for them, but for yourself.”
Indignation rose in her. “Oh, I see. So I put o
thers ahead of myself out of selfishness.”
“You like putting others ahead of yourself because that gives you a convenient excuse not to live your own life. You never got to be an obnoxious teenager because you were too busy filling in for your mom. And then, straight after high school, you started working to help provide for your family. And then you became Rick’s meal ticket, putting him through medical school and never standing up for yourself because you had a convenient excuse not to.”
She tried to block her ears, but his harsh words stripped away her defenses.
“And you’re still doing it,” Derek continued, relentless. “You want to sacrifice yourself for your unborn baby. You push me away so you have an excuse to put yourself last again. Admit it, Hannah. You’re scared of living your own life.”
She felt like he’d ripped the skin from her flesh.
“I think you’d better leave.” She couldn’t yell at him. All her screams were bottled up inside.
Derek blinked. He lifted a hand toward her, hesitation breaking up his glower. “I didn’t—”
“Go, please.” She couldn’t maintain this calm facade for much longer. She stepped back, out of his reach, willing herself not to break down.
“Go—” Her voice cracked, but she kept her head held high.
A spasm crossed Derek’s face, and then he swiveled on his heel and left her house.
It seemed only fitting that, heading out of Pine Falls, Derek should bump into Officer Grady again, directing traffic around an accident on the freeway. As Derek passed him, the police officer gave him a crabby, I’ve-got-my-eye-on-you kind of glare. Derek scowled back at him.
Halfway back to Los Angeles, he realized his back was screwed tight as a drum, his hands were fisted around the steering wheel, and his head felt like it was trapped in a vise. Hours had passed since he’d left Pine Falls, hours spent grimly driving on the interstate, but he was still in shock.
Every time he thought of Hannah, his gut skewered. If he hadn’t spotted that empty pregnancy kit, would she have told him? Maybe not. Maybe she’d been willing to let him return to Los Angeles without giving him a hint. That stabbed him. Did she think so little of him? Was he nothing more than a quick fling that she now regretted?