All We Knew

by Jamie Beck

  A generous smile stretched across his face. “Funny, that’s kinda what she’s been hinting.”

  “Ah,” Sara replied, feeling lighter despite her bruised face. “We women are strange that way. We like our men to be close by.”

  “I guess we guys should be more grateful.” He grinned while rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, if you’re feeling okay, perhaps I should also go check on Meg.”

  “Yes. That’s a good idea. She’s pretty shaken.”

  Ian nodded and directed his gaze to Ty. “Be good, buddy.” Then he wandered upstairs in search of Meg.

  Sara acted as if nothing had happened, for Ty’s sake. She settled back on the floor and picked up another book, but her thoughts strayed to Meg’s life, then to Ian. Maybe Sara could arrange an accidental meeting between him and Gentry. Unlike Ian’s current girlfriend, her sister-in-law might enjoy traveling with him come summer.

  She frowned, wondering if she was looking for a way to remove Gentry from the scene until she and Hunter had time to bond with the baby. That didn’t sit well, but honestly, adventure and intrigue with a hot humanitarian might be exactly what Gentry needed. And right now, playing matchmaker held more appeal than thinking about Meg’s husband, or how she’d explain her bruises to Hunter.

  “I don’t want you going back there again, Sara.” Hunter’s big hands cupped her face. “Dammit, I want to kill that man.”

  She laid her hands over his. “I’m fine. I get to come home to you and this house and all of the beautiful things in our life. But Meg and the women like her . . . they’re the ones we should be thinking of. The ones who need our help.”

  “So let’s help in ways that don’t put you in danger.”

  “I’m not in danger.” She knew he’d overreact. He always did when it came to things he couldn’t control. “Not really.”

  “He could’ve pulled a gun or a knife. Anything could’ve happened.” He crushed her against his chest, hugging her like she might disappear if he let go. Speaking over her head, he said, “I sympathize with those women, but we can’t save them all or solve all of their problems. And we certainly can’t risk your safety to do so. Promise me, Sara. Promise me you won’t go back there.”

  “Hunter, I have to go back. They need my help. Ty needs me.”

  “I need you.” He eased her away far enough to look in her eyes. “I need you, Sara. That man you described doesn’t sound like he’ll give up and go away. Next time he comes back, he’ll be locked and loaded. If something worse were to happen—God, I can’t even think of it. Don’t my feelings count here? What if the roles were reversed?”

  Seeing Hunter so unsettled didn’t happen often. Maybe never. He made a good point, too. But she couldn’t turn her back on the Angel House or on Ty. Not when she was finally making progress with him. “I’m sorry you’re so upset, but I honestly think he won’t come back. There’s a restraining order now, in addition to the charges. The cops will drive by more often. Call Gloria and ask her. Historically, it’s been a peaceful house.”

  “And yet here you sit with a lump on your head and a bruise on your cheek.”

  “Exactly. What are the chances it would happen again?” She grinned, hoping the childish logic might persuade him.

  “Zero, if you don’t return. I mean it, Sara. Find another way to help the community.” And then, as if realizing his dictatorial tone was out of line, he added, “Please.”

  She sucked her lips inward, thinking. His concern clawed at her conscience. She didn’t want to torment him, yet she couldn’t walk away from those women or Ty.

  Hunter tugged her against his chest again. “I love you, Sara. Don’t scare me this way again.”

  He kissed her head, and the guilt rippled all the way to her toes. How could he not see that he was asking her to give up something that made her feel like she was making a difference in the world?

  “Please don’t ask me to stop volunteering there. I’m improving lives. I’ve taken control over something in my life for a change, and that matters to me. You, of all people, should understand the importance of that.”

  He released her and sat back, head tipped, and tapped her breastbone right near her heart. “Or maybe you’re getting too fixated on that little boy.”

  “That’s insulting. I’m not fixated.”

  “Aren’t you? You’re putting his welfare above your own. Above ours.” He shrugged. “Does that sound healthy?”

  “This isn’t just about helping Ty. Pam, Joan, Jolinda, and now Meg rely on me to help with job applications and interview skills. They’re getting their lives together. I’m giving them confidence.” She crossed her arms, unhappy at having to defend herself like a child. “I’ve bent for you and your family a lot, Hunter. For years. But not on this. I get to decide how I spend my time while you’re at work.”

  She didn’t add “which is often,” even though she thought it.

  “I see.” He stared at the carpet for a moment. Finally, he stood and started walking away.

  “Hunter . . .”

  He stopped, glancing over his shoulder, eyes narrowed. “Before you complain about me and my ‘obsession’ again, remember that CTC doesn’t put me in danger, and it benefits us both. You can’t say the same about the Angel House.”

  He left the room before she could reply, and she heard him call out, “Put some ice on your forehead,” before his office door clicked shut.

  She threw herself back against the sofa cushions. No matter how good their intentions, they kept hurting each other. If Gentry had been home to witness this argument, she might think twice about her offer. Sara would have to tread lightly while proving to Hunter that he wasn’t the only person in this marriage whose personal goals mattered.

  Chapter Twelve

  Normally, Hunter could walk into his house at any time of day or night and find it in orderly condition. Ever since Gentry moved in, he risked breaking his neck whenever he didn’t keep his eyes on the floor.

  Her shoes—with those expensive-looking red soles—were kicked off willy-nilly in the mudroom, turning it into an obstacle course. The kitchen sink now held at least one or more rinsed dishes, cups, or glasses because, apparently, his sister hadn’t ever learned how to open the dishwasher.

  Like a warped version of Hansel and Gretel, he could literally follow the trail of opened magazines, stray socks, and tea bag wrappers to find his sister wherever she lazed about in his home. Today she was lying on the family room sofa with her laptop on her stomach and earphones in. Her head bobbed from side to side to the beat of some song as she swayed one foot to that same beat.

  “Gentry.” When she didn’t answer, he moved closer and tapped her head. “Gentry.”

  She started. “Oh, hey.”

  A quick glance at the screen showed A CertainTea’s Facebook page. At least she was working on something for Colby instead of lounging around while Sara waited on her. “Don’t we have to leave for the doctor soon?”

  “Yep.”

  He waved around at the mess she’d made. “How about you clean all this stuff up before we hit the road. I don’t want Sara to be your maid.”

  “Me neither. I was hoping to make you my maid.” She snickered.

  “Ha-ha.” He wondered how often he’d be telling his child or children to clean up, do their homework, respect their mother, and on and on and on. The mere thought made him a little exhausted.

  He’d be a dad soon. Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d be any good at it. The confidence that fueled his competence at most things remained elusive in this realm.

  “What’s wrong?” Gentry closed her laptop and lugged herself off the sofa.

  “Nothing. Please fold that blanket before you tackle the kitchen. I’ll go get Sara.” He kissed Gentry’s head and then trotted up the steps.

  He hadn’t quite decided how he felt about Sara standing her ground about the Angel House, but he was sick of fighting. He’d let it go for both their sakes and because he didn’t w
ant Gentry to see them bicker. For now, he’d bite his tongue even though he knew Sara would get hurt—physically or emotionally—by being so invested in those people’s lives.

  He strolled down the hallway toward the master suite. “Babe, you back here?”

  He entered the room at the same time she was exiting the master bathroom. She finished fastening her earring and then gave him a warm kiss hello. Her mood had been better since he’d backed down from the argument. “Just about ready.”

  Her smile—an unwitting weapon—melted him, just like it always did. In the days since they’d informally agreed to this adoption, Sara had been humming and smiling and more like her old self than she had in ages. He owed Gentry a lot for this gift. If only the overall positive mood in the house would help him forget about his trouble at work.

  “Uh-oh, you just thought about the office.” Sara sighed while she slipped on her shoes. “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t want to complain that he was running out of legitimate reasons to delay the due diligence documents Pure Foods had requested, or lament that his hopes were all pinned on his ready-made bottled tea idea, which might require a trip to New York. If that option died, he might truly need to prepare to kiss Cabot Tea Company goodbye. “Just stuff on my mind.”

  He knew she knew what he was thinking about. Instead of inviting him to share his troubles, she said, “This appointment should cheer you up. Today we’ll hear the heartbeat and see some kind of ultrasound.”

  Perhaps it was best for her to keep him moving forward. To remind him that his life had other meaning, too.

  “According to the book you gave me, we won’t see too much today. At this early stage, the fetus is only about as big as a kidney bean.”

  She brightened. “Oh, Hunter, you’ve been reading up! Thank you. I know this is a busy time for you. I really appreciate the effort.”

  “Exactly how appreciative are you?” He kissed her again, letting his hands run down her waist and over her hips. He knew her body so well and still wanted it every bit as much as he ever had. He tugged her closer, suddenly wishing they had a little extra time.

  She pushed away. “Gentry’s right downstairs.”

  “So?”

  “She’s awake and waiting for us.”

  “I think she knows we have sex, Sara.”

  Sara blushed. “We don’t have time right now, and besides, she’s walking around. What if she bursts in on us?”

  “She wouldn’t burst in without knocking.” As he said the words, he remembered that she’d almost done that two nights ago. She’d knocked first as a warning but then wandered into their room with a bowl of popcorn, plopped herself at the bottom of their mattress while they watched TV, and asked if she could hang out for a while. “Okay, she might do that. I can lock the door.”

  “She’s lonely and displaced. I don’t want her to feel unwelcome.” Sara briefly kissed his neck.

  “She is unwelcome in our room, for God’s sake.”

  “She’s only here for a short while, and she’s giving us so much. Surely we can keep her company at night.” Sara eased out of his arms. “I think she’s scared.”

  “Scared?”

  “Of course. Her body is undergoing massive changes. Her relationship with her parents is worse than ever. Her future is still so uncertain.”

  He hadn’t stopped to consider all that. He’d been consumed with his own concerns about the adoption, the Angel House, and fending off Pure Foods. It would be scary to grow a person in your body. Then again, how freakin’ amazing? But the upcoming months would leave Gentry feeling a bit at odds, no doubt. “I’ll talk to her more about trying to set up some consulting business.”

  Sara rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Only you think the answer to every problem is a career.”

  “That’s not true or fair, but her future is important. At least it’s something I’m qualified to help her with. It’s not like she wants my fashion advice.”

  “Why not use this time to get to know her better? There doesn’t always have to be a bigger purpose. Talk about music or travel or books.”

  “She reads?” His joke fell flat. Rather than argue, he asked, “How long do you think she’ll be here?”

  “I don’t know, and I’m not asking. As far as I’m concerned, she’s welcome for as long as she needs us.” She plucked her purse off the chaise.

  Hunter let his head fall back and sighed. He didn’t want to be ungrateful, but if they had only a few months before they’d be parents, he’d like to spend that time alone with his wife. “Has she set up any Realtor appointments?”

  “Not yet.” She stroked his arm. “I admit I’m surprised you aren’t taking advantage of an opportunity to persuade her to see things your way when it comes to CTC.”

  That was the closest she’d come to opening the door to a conversation about work in days.

  Hunter shook his head. “I won’t make things awkward here by bringing that up or give her any ammo to take back to her mom. The less Gentry knows about what I’m doing, the better.”

  Sara stilled. “Is that why you’ve been so tight-lipped with me, too?”

  “I know how you feel about CTC, so I’m not bothering you with it.”

  She frowned. “Just because I don’t always agree with everything you think doesn’t mean I don’t want you to talk to me.”

  She said that now, but he knew better. Things at home had improved a bit since he’d stopped dumping all his worries in his wife’s lap. He’d resolve those things without Sara’s help. He had Bethany to talk through strategies and such, anyway. “We’d better hit the road if we don’t want to be late.”

  “I’m so excited.” Sara’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s go!”

  An hour later, he and Sara were sitting near Gentry’s head, staring at a monitor, looking at the tiny blob that would be their baby. Although he was glad Jenna wasn’t at this first appointment, he felt torn about his dad missing out.

  His wife’s watery eyes glistened. She kept squeezing Gentry’s hand and kissing her forehead. Hunter had never been effusive or overly demonstrative with anyone but Sara, but even his throat ached from the significance of what they were seeing.

  “The black space is amniotic fluid, and this here is the baby’s head.” Dr. Sutton moved the cursor around the monitor and clicked things to measure the length of the embryo. “These here are little leg buds, and these are arm buds. That flickering is the baby’s heart beating.”

  When the blob actually wriggled, they collectively gasped.

  “Oh my God,” Sara whispered, her gaze transfixed on the screen, cheeks flushed.

  “Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” the doctor asked.

  “Yes,” Hunter said, eager to a degree that he hadn’t predicted. He looked at his sister with a new kind of awe. Her body was busy creating this life. He would put up with her messy habits for weeks or months if needed. He was as close to tears as he could remember being about anything since his wedding.

  For the first time in history, Gentry didn’t make any wisecracks. She didn’t appear blasé or disinterested. If anything, she seemed transfixed and distant from Sara and him.

  Dr. Sutton did something to the equipment, and soon a rapid, hushed whaw whaw whaw emanated from the speakers.

  “He sounds like he’s in distress.” Hunter felt his face frown. That heartbeat matched the rate of his own whenever he biked up Hilltop Road.

  “It’s actually quite normal. We’d expect anything between one hundred sixty to one hundred eighty beats per minute at this stage.” Dr. Sutton turned off the equipment, which made the room fall eerily silent.

  “See, it’s already perfect.” Sara squeezed his arm and then patted Gentry’s head. “Just perfect.”

  Hunter stole another look at his sister. Something about her expression—not quite haunted, but filled with an uneasy tension—turned his stomach. How must she feel now, looking at this monitor and seeing her baby growing inside her? Had it prompted doubts
about her decision to give them the child?

  Sara wouldn’t recover from another loss. He needed assurance that Gentry wouldn’t rescind her offer, and yet how could he pressure his own sister to give up her child?

  Maybe he was reading into things. He leaned close to her. “How’re you doing?”

  She started, not paying nearly as much attention to him as he had to her. “Glad to have that wand removed,” she quipped, defaulting to sarcasm as usual.

  Under other circumstances, he would’ve been put off by the joke—by anything that called attention to that wand, really. Right now, he merely breathed a sigh of relief—and surprisingly not just for Sara’s sake—that she hadn’t changed her mind.

  The doctor made one last note, then printed a photo and turned off the equipment. She handed it to Gentry, who looked down at her fingernails like she hated her turquoise nail polish. “Give it to Sara, please.”

  Sara’s shaky hands cradled that photo as if it were the most fragile, beautiful thing on the planet.

  “If you’re going to be like waterworks at every appointment, I might have to come alone,” Gentry warned as she scooted herself into an upright position.

  Dr. Sutton patted Sara’s arm, then excused herself from the room.

  “I’ll step out and let you get dressed.” Hunter hugged Gentry and realized it had probably been a long time since he’d really hugged her. His mind drifted to Colby’s recent talking-to about how the two of them needed to make Gentry feel less like a “half” sibling. “Thanks for letting us be part of this. For everything.”

  She wouldn’t meet his gaze. In fact, she didn’t say anything, which brought that queasiness back.

  Hours later, Hunter slipped out of bed, restless. He padded downstairs to the kitchen to grab a yogurt and brew a cup of CTC’s Sleepy Tea. When he entered the dark kitchen, he found Gentry staring at the ultrasound picture Sara had put on the refrigerator. While her pointer finger stroked the image, Hunter’s stomach hit the floor.