“That is so untrue.” Jen found a parking spot under a pine tree. “Zach said he was crazy about you before you were pregnant. He said Lucas was despondent when you were going out with that church boy, the pastor’s son Ryan, wasn’t it?”
“I wasn’t going out with Ryan.” Maryanne’s abdomen tightened. She straightened and arched her back in the bucket seat.
“Are you feeling okay?” Jen’s brow knitted with concern.
“I’m fine. Let’s hurry before we miss Lucas.” She stepped out of the car.
They found a shady spot and set their beach chairs down. Maryanne’s heartbeat thudded as if her feet were pounding the pavement. Cold sweat ringed her scalp. Would Lucas care for her once he found out she too had had an abortion? Would he call her a murderess and spray paint her car? Maryanne leaned back on the beach chair and covered her face with her visor.
~~~
Every muscle screamed, but Lucas would not back down from his pace. Each man ran in his own zone, separated by a healthy distance. As long as he kept his opponents in sight, he could apply what energy he had at the end and duke it out. He had already passed the third man who’d looked over his shoulder and saw Lucas coming. The guy fought for about a quarter of a mile and dropped back, pretending it was his strategy to slow down in the line of volunteers spraying water at the intersection of River Road and Lake Blvd. No one wanted to appear weak, to give any indication of the constant pain and torment in this last stretch.
Twelve miles passed. He was still in third place. He’d get a chance to see the two leaders at the turnaround. Would they look strong and focused? Or would they begin to crack, show desperation and agony on their faces?
A small crowd gathered at the turnaround. Maryanne, please, I need to see you. He mouthed a prayer. Tell me she’s okay.
“Go, go, you’re only a few minutes back.” A man yelled with his hands cupped around his mouth.
The turn was ahead. The German guy, Gerhard, was first to turn and run back. His face was beet red, eyes behind dark glasses. Lucas raised a fist. “Looking good!”
Somehow, praising his competitor pumped him up, and his steps took an extra spring. Zach was nearing the turnaround. Two pregnant women, one tall and one short, waved orange Shopahol t-shirts. Maryanne was there with Jen. He blew her a kiss, and she jumped up and down, obviously happy to see him.
“How’re you doing, mate?” Zach came back at him after passing the turnaround.
“I’m good!” Lucas whooped with more energy than he felt. Pain radiated from his feet to his neck, but Maryanne was his healing balm. Her smile was like a shot of adrenaline and anesthetic mixed in one. He cycled his arms and surged around the cone. The rest of the pack advanced toward him. Ferraro, an American marathoner was the most dangerous. Lucas was five minutes ahead of him. Would that be enough?
He sped by an aid station without losing stride, grabbing sponges, ice water, and sodas. The breeze off the lake was refreshing, but he was about to run back up the bike trail toward Squaw Valley. Zach was just ahead, not looking very strong.
The pass, when it came, was almost too easy.
“See ya, mate,” Zach barely mumbled. He was fading, clutching his side as if he had a cramp. The fabled Zach Attack had been spent too early. Lucas hoped Zach would hold on and finish.
Lucas glanced at his watch. Volunteers on mopeds held white boards telling him how many minutes he was in back of Gerhard. The sun broiled his shoulders and back, his skin turning bronze, but not burning. Thank God for melanin.
“Three minutes.”
“Two, you’re catching him.”
The German was up ahead, pacing like a military man, strict choppy strides, no longer smooth. The road climbed away from the lake. Lucas was hurting now, especially his thighs. No matter how much he tried, Gerhard remained the same distance ahead. Self-doubt assailed Lucas. How could he have been so stupid to pump out of his seat on the bike? He wasn’t the strongest biker, and now he’d blown his legs.
“Ferraro is gaining on you,” a lady with a cell phone yelled. “He’s only four minutes back.”
Dammit. Ferraro did the right thing. He held back on the bike, and now he’d be fresh. Maryanne would be disappointed. His parents wasted their money flying out. He willed the negative thoughts from his mind. Dream big, work bigger. Dream big, work bigger. Maryanne’s motto swished and pounded through his eardrums.
He caught up to Gerhard, but spectators informed him Ferraro was catching him, less than a minute back. He was beyond agony, his abdomen cramping, his feet slapping the pavement like hammers chipping away at his aching bones. The incline, while not as bad as on the bike, was killing him. He was nipping at the German’s heels. He wasn’t going to surge, just keep his pace. Slowly, the two men struggled, no longer hiding their rasping breath. Millimeter by millimeter, Lucas nudged ahead, passing in what seemed like slow motion. But as the pounding of the German’s footfalls faded, another stronger set sounded behind him. Ferraro closed in.
With a little over two miles to go, the turn onto Squaw Valley Road was ahead. The crowd was thick, and the helicopter’s rotors pounded his brain like giant taiko drums. Are you ready to give up your dreams? No. Never. Dream big, work bigger. Dream big, work bigger. The urge to look at Ferraro was overwhelming. Just one look. Don’t let him see you sweat. Think Maryanne. What she gave you last night. She gave herself. She’s marrying you. Now smile.
He cut into the turn and glanced over his left shoulder at Ferraro. A lightning bolt of energy coursed through his veins, and he high stepped between the legions of screaming spectators. Even the rotor blades joined in the chant. “Knight, Knight, Knight.”
He ran on clouds, no longer aching. His head floated a mile above. His mother and father and sister popped in his field of vision, and then he was falling, grabbing at the tape, one step, two, over the finish line.
“You’re an Ironman!” boomed a voice. “Unofficial time eight hours eighteen minutes. A course record for the inaugural Lake Tahoe Ironman.”
The crowd swarmed around Lucas. His head was light, dizzy, and he fell, gasping for breath, into his stepfather’s arms.
“Lucas, baby! I’m so proud of you.” His mother kissed his sweat streaked face while his sister bragged, “That’s my bro! That’s my bro!”
~~~
The next evening, Maryanne joined Lucas and his family as they walked through a line of photographers into the Ironman Awards Banquet. Reporters shoved mikes in front of Lucas.
“What’s your secret? Did you workout the day before?”
“No secret.” Lucas hugged Maryanne at his side. “She’s all I need.”
“How’d you feel when Ferraro breathed down your neck? Did you expect to be that close to him?”
“He ran a good race. But it was tough to make up for the bike deficit.”
“You’re usually weak on the bike, what happened?”
“Been mountain biking all summer. I’m telling you, the bike is the key. I’m confident of my running legs even after pushing the bike.”
“That uphill pass was for nothing when you fell. Regret making that move?”
Lucas stopped and took off his sunglasses. “Best move ever. No regrets. Got right back up and chewed them up on the run.”
Maryanne was so proud of his poise. Lucas was confident, but respected his opponents and the sport. If it weren’t for her, he would be raking in the endorsements. Yet, he never made her feel as if she were to blame. She squeezed his arm and smiled. He acknowledged her with a kiss in full view of the cameras.
Guards held off the reporters at the entrance and waved them toward the head table. Lucas’ mother muttered, “He acts as if she’s all important. How about me? I flew all the way out here.”
Lucas tugged his mother into his other arm. “Ma, I’d be nothing without you.”
“Best remember that, boy.” His mother pinched his cheek, eliciting an adorable smile.
Maryanne clutched her makeup bag and leaned
toward Lucas. “I need to freshen up.”
He whispered, “Don’t let Ma bother you. She’s just so happy, and she doesn’t mean half the stuff she says.”
“Uhmm… I’m happy you two are getting along. See you in a bit?”
“You okay?” His eyes twitched, studying her face.
“I’m fine.” She turned toward the powder room. Her feet ached in her high heels, slightly puffy, and the slinky maternity evening gown she purchased that afternoon clung to her. She retied the sash to the side, and studied her profile. The vintage black and white fan shaped design scattered the curves in an attempt to camouflage the baby bump. If she’d been taller, it would have been barely noticeable, but not on her 5 ft petite frame. Nope, Jen had been too flattering when they’d gone shopping for it.
Maryanne leaned on the counter and powdered her face. She reapplied her lipstick and checked her eyeliner and mascara. Tonight was Lucas’ big night, and she’d look her best, ignore his mother’s digs and his sister’s snide remarks. They were his family, and he obviously basked in their attention.
A blond woman emerged from a stall and turned on the faucet next to her. Her eyes swept Maryanne from head to toe. “Aren’t you the Holy Roller? The one who did all the church boys?”
Maryanne snapped her makeup kit shut and stepped away from the sink.
The blonde followed her to the paper towel dispenser. “Lucas happens to be a good friend of mine. My uncle’s CEO of Tri-ade Sport Drinks, but because of you, we can’t sponsor him.”
Heat prickled Maryanne’s chest. “What do you want me to do about it? I’ve already told everyone Lucas had nothing to do with my baby.”
“You should leave him alone. Every time the sponsors see you hanging on his arm, they’re groaning. ‘Can’t touch this guy. He’s tainted.’ Maybe you don’t get this sport, but it doesn’t matter how well he races, nobody’s going to put their name on his tri suit or their money in his pocket.”
Maryanne yanked the door open and rushed out of the ladies’ room. A dark blue suit blocked her path. She sidestepped and he said, “Hello, down there.”
Great. Barry O’Brien unbuttoned his suit jacket and put an arm over her shoulder. “Well, if it isn’t my notorious ex-girlfriend here to cause trouble. Nice dress.”
“What are you doing here?” Maryanne cringed at his touch.
“We’re always looking for athletes to sponsor. You know, clean cut, wholesome looking fellows, those who profess to be Christians. Too bad Mr. Knight told the world he loves you.”
The blonde exited the restroom and raised her eyebrows. Barry squeezed Maryanne against him and laid his chin on the top of her head. “So, I have a deal for you.”
“Not listening. Let go of me.” She couldn’t ruin Lucas’ night with a fracas.
“Lion Ministries is prepared to write Mr. Knight a check if you’ll admit he’s the father of your baby. Let’s do the angle that he’s repented of his sins. Meanwhile, you lied about the rape.”
Maryanne’s teeth ground on edge. “I didn’t lie.”
“How stubborn can you be?” Barry whispered in her ear. “You know what I have on you.”
“Why is it so important to nail this baby on Lucas?”
A man stuck a microphone between Barry and Maryanne. “Did I hear you right? The baby is Lucas Knight’s? You lied about the rape?”
Barry smirked and gestured toward Maryanne. “I’ll let the little lady clarify.”
Two other reporters crowded around, pointing video cameras. “Is it true that Mr. Knight is an untouchable? A rapist?”
“Why don’t you admit he’s not a rapist, that you slept with him consensually?” Barry prodded Maryanne.
A small crowd gathered. Flashbulbs exploded and blinded her. The lenses of video cameras glared at her.
Maryanne brushed Barry’s arm off her shoulder as if he were a pest. She looked each camera in the eye. “You can all come back after I give birth. Lucas Knight is innocent. He just won the Ironman Triathlon. He doesn’t deserve this, and he doesn’t deserve me messing up his life.”
Blinded by tears, Maryanne pushed her way out of the hallway and stumbled toward the entrance. She pulled out her cell phone and called Vera.
Chapter 28
Maryanne knocked on Dr. Lee’s door. “You wanted to see me?”
He gestured for her to enter. “Close the door and take a seat.”
Sweat moistened her palms, and a curl of nerves stirred in her solar plexus. She perched on the edge of a chair.
Her boss leaned forward over his desk. “You took an extra day off Monday. Do you have a doctor’s note?”
“No, I left you a message Sunday evening, and I have an appointment with Dr. Wood this afternoon.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your patient scores have improved, but I’ve received some complaints from the board about that interview. Whether you are on the job or off, you are a representative of K-care.”
“They ambushed me. Really, I’m not trying to give K-care a bad name.”
He shook his head, as if unable to decide what to tell her. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he handed her a manila folder. “I’ve spoken to Human Resources. We believe under the circumstances you should take a leave of absence.”
Tears bled from Maryanne’s eyes, and she opened the folder. Several legal looking forms awaited her signature. “I don’t know what to do. I need this job and the health insurance for the baby.”
“No one’s firing you. A five month unpaid leave of absence still provides health insurance.”
The floor blurred and swam. Maryanne leaned over and caught herself on the table, her shoulders heaving. How could this happen to her? What would she live on without a paycheck? She couldn’t move in with her parents. A sob caught in her throat. “Isn’t there any appeal? I’ve done my job as best as I could. You said my scores were up.”
“You have a week to look over the package. Lion Ministries’ lawyer has contacted K-care about suing for defaming their good name.”
“I was raped!” Maryanne slapped her knee and straightened. “The ER doctor said no one with the amount of drugs in my bloodstream was in any position to consent.”
“I have no comment on that. Why don’t you go home and look over the papers?”
Tears brimmed her eyes, but she thanked him and walked slowly to her work area. She’d sell her electric car, her fancy purses, and then what? How many months rent could she come up with? Everything was so unfair. One tear, and then another slipped down her cheeks.
Vera hugged her, rubbing her back. “What happened?”
“They’re forcing me on an unpaid leave of absence until the baby is born.”
“That sucks.” Vera glanced at the clock. “My break’s coming up. Dr. Lee doesn’t expect you to work today. He handed all your patients to me this morning. Want to grab something at the Bubble Tea Palace?”
“I can’t have any caffeine.”
Vera picked up Maryanne’s purse. “They have smoothies. Let’s get you out of this depressing place.”
“Tell me about it.” Maryanne picked up her coat and followed her out the door.
A text message chimed on her cell. Lucas: Can I call you?
Maryanne: Yes, on a break.
She stepped off the curb. Vera yanked her arm as a delivery truck turned right in front of her.
“You shouldn’t walk and text at the same time,” Vera said. “Is everything okay with you and Lucas?”
“About to find out,” Maryanne muttered. They entered the Bubble Tea Palace and sat near the window.
“I’ll order you a smoothie,” Vera said.
50 Cent’s “Lil’ Bit” rang on Maryanne’s cell.
“Hey, Lucas,” she said. “Having fun with your family?”
“They’re pedal-boating. I told them I had to let my legs recover.” His voice was smooth, but didn’t sound confident. “Is everything okay?”
“Sure, fine.” Maryanne gazed out the window. The sky wa
s grey, another cloudy day.
“You left the awards banquet without saying anything and didn’t answer my calls last night.”
Her heart lurched and squeezed. He didn’t deserve to go down with the sinking ship S. S. Maryanne. But she couldn’t break his heart either. “I couldn’t ruin your night. It was everything you dreamed of. Winning the Ironman, having your family cheer for you. Your mother was so proud. I saw the look she gave you, and your stepfather, I think he beamed up there with you.”
“I wish you could have been at the table with me. You looked great. I know the reporters ruined it and I don’t blame you.” He sounded reasonable, but she detected the hurt in his voice.
“I still care for you, Lucas. But everything’s so unsettled, at least until the baby’s adopted.”
Vera set a mango smoothie in front of her. Maryanne pulled out her wallet, but Vera waved her hand and stared into her own smartphone.
Lucas sighed. “Are you trying to let me go again? What about this weekend? Did it mean anything to you?”
It meant everything to her. But she was now jobless, well technically she was employed, but without an income. She rubbed her forehead and took a sip. “I can’t hold you back. What were your plans for the rest of the season?”
“There are a few triathlons, but I’m not competing until November. I’m going to Kona to train with Zach for the Ironman World Championship, but not racing. I’ll be meeting with a couple of sponsors. Everyone in the triathlon world’s going to be there…”
An uneasy silence hung. “Lucas? You still there? When’s Kona?”
“October 12. Do you want me to skip Kona and come back now?”
“No, it’s better if you go.” Maryanne twisted her hair. “I’m having an amniocentesis to clear your name.”
“Great. I’ve given my blood sample to the police already.” His voice sounded more cheerful. “I love you, no matter what.”
She bit her lip, but couldn’t return the sentiment. Oh, she loved him all right, more than anything. But if he knew of her predicament, he’d be over in a San Francisco minute. Hopefully, she’d have a job lined up by the time he came back, and she’d invite him to live with her. “You’ll call me when you return?”
Hidden Under Her Heart Page 21