Bundle of Joy

by Robin Lee Hatcher

  “Apparently.”

  She took a quick breath and let it out. “We got a divorce in Nevada. It only took a few weeks, since Grant was still a resident. It was all relatively painless and civilized. I was relieved I hadn’t told Grandpa I’d gotten married.” She sighed again.

  Joe wondered if she realized how often she did that. The deep breath and audible sigh. The rise and fall of her shoulders. The worrying of her lower lip between her teeth.

  “And then I discovered I was pregnant.”

  “Did you tell Grant?”

  “Yes. He said I’d have to prove it was his and accused me of marrying him for child support.” She released a self-deprecating laugh. “This after he nearly cleaned out my savings account in three weeks’ time.”

  If Grant Reeves had lived within a hundred miles of this coffee shop, Joe would have sought him out and taught that charming, charismatic ne’er-do-well a thing or two.

  “I had him sign something where he gave up all of his parental rights. He didn’t even hesitate.” She sat a little straighter, a spark of determination in her eyes that hadn’t been there a moment before. “I don’t need anyone to take care of me and the baby. I have my store, and it’s doing well. I can support us when the time comes without any help from him or anyone else.”

  He wondered if she was as independent as she sounded. “Why didn’t you tell your grandfather the truth after you discovered you were pregnant?”

  “I was going to. I was waiting for the right moment. A time when the truth wouldn’t make me look like an idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot.” Misguided, maybe, but not an idiot.

  “No. But I felt like one. Anyway, I knew I couldn’t keep putting things off. I mean, he was going to know something when I went to Arizona for a visit and had a baby with me.” She gave him a wry smile. “Grandpa isn’t senile.”

  Joe returned the look.

  “He had his heart attack before I could tell him.” Her expression sobered. “I rushed down to Arizona to be with him. No one thought he was going to live. Not his doctors. Not his friends. No one. I couldn’t very well tell him then.”

  “And he didn’t notice you were pregnant?” He couldn’t keep the skeptical note out of his voice.

  “He was too sick to notice. I was careful how I dressed. Besides, I wasn’t very big at the time.” She glanced down. “Not like now.” She placed both of her hands on her abdomen. “And Humphrey’s still got two months to grow.”

  “Humphrey?”

  “That’s what I call him. Or her.”

  “You don’t know the sex?”

  “I didn’t want to. I’d rather be surprised.”

  He could have told her she sounded as old-fashioned as she thought her grandfather was.

  She raised her eyes again. “So…here I am. I didn’t tell Grandpa Roger I was married, let alone divorced, because I didn’t want him to be disappointed in me. I can’t tell him I’m pregnant and alone, because I don’t want to worry him and put stress on his weak heart. And now he’s coming for an extended holiday visit, and I need a husband. Just for pretend. Just for the holidays.”

  Joe gave his head a slow shake. “I don’t see how this could work. Your grandfather will be staying with you. Right? Won’t he think it odd if your husband doesn’t share your bedroom? And I’m guessing sharing your bedroom wasn’t part of the pretense you have planned.”

  Embarrassment rose in her cheeks like a fire. “No, of course not. You won’t stay in my room. But I know how to get around it. My room has a door that leads onto the back porch and so does the nursery, which is the room next to mine. That’s where you’ll sleep at night. When it’s time for you to appear, you can go onto the porch, enter through the porch door, and then come out of my bedroom.”

  He should turn her down. He should tell her how crazy this harebrained scheme sounded. It wasn’t as though he owed her a favor. Her family had been good to him, but still—

  “It’s only for five and a half weeks.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Please, Joe. There isn’t anyone else I can ask.”

  He must have lost his mind.

  “Okay, Alicia. I’ll do it.”

  Chapter Two

  Eight days later, at ten minutes after three on a Sunday afternoon, Joe steered his vehicle off the freeway. Every spare inch of the SUV was packed with his possessions. What he hadn’t been able to bring with him from California would be shipped later, after he got a place of his own. For now, it was in storage.

  He pulled into the parking lot of a convenience store, then reached for his cell phone, flipped it open and dialed Alicia’s number. She answered on the third ring.

  “It’s Joe,” he said after her greeting. “I’m in Meridian. Care to give me directions to your place again?”

  She did so.

  “Sounds easy enough. I ought to be there in about ten, fifteen minutes. If I get lost, I’ll call again.”

  “I’ll be watching for you.”

  “See you soon.” He flipped the phone closed.

  Undeniably, certifiably insane.

  During the past eight days, he’d analyzed why he agreed to her scheme and had come up with a number of answers: She was an old childhood friend. He would be looking for employment in Idaho and so would have time on his hands until he was hired. Her grandfather was a nice guy, and Joe wouldn’t want to see anything happen to him because of worry or stress over Alicia.

  But the answer he always returned to was this: She was cute. Even big with child and wearing a ridiculous red-and-black hat, she was cute. Not a very good reason to pretend to be her husband for the next five or six weeks.

  Yes, he was certifiably nuts.

  With a shake of his head, he pulled out of the parking lot and drove south.

  The farmland that had once surrounded tiny Meridian, Idaho had been consumed by urban sprawl. Joe had grown used to that in Southern California, but he hadn’t expected it here. Not this much.

  He took a couple of wrong turns, but eventually he found the big old farmhouse with its screened front porch and half a dozen sixty-foot-tall trees standing like naked sentinels on all sides. Despite its age, the house looked well cared for.

  He turned his vehicle into the drive and shut off the engine.

  Yeah, he must be crazy.

  Taking a deep breath, he opened the car door and stepped out. About the same time, the screen door to the porch screeched a warning, and Alicia came into view. She smiled, waving a greeting with her right hand. He waved back, then grabbed his duffel bag off the car seat and headed toward the house.

  “You found me,” she said.

  Her short-cropped light brown hair looked as if she’d raked her fingers through it moments before; it stuck out in all directions. She wore an oversize sweater that had lost whatever shape it once had, baggy gray sweatpants, and fuzzy pink bunny slippers, complete with floppy ears.

  Cute.

  “I found you,” he replied.

  “Come in.” She held the door open wider. “I was about to have some herbal tea. Or I’ve got orange soda and root beer in the fridge, if you prefer, or I can make coffee.”

  “Tea’s fine, but I prefer the regular stuff if you’ve got it.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  He followed her through a large living area with hardwood floors and an eclectic collection of furniture, including an upright piano and a bronze sculpture of a horse and rider that was reminiscent of a Remington.

  The kitchen had the same high ceiling as the living room, but it was cheerier due to large windows framed by lacy curtains instead of heavy brocade drapes, and yellow paint on the walls and cabinets instead of dark paneling and wallpaper. The kitchen was filled with homey little touches, the likes of which Joe hadn’t seen since he’d watched Happy Days as a kid.

  Alicia motioned toward a Formica and chrome table against the far wall. “Have a seat.” Then she turned to the stove, lifted a copper teakettle from the back burner and filled two mug
s with steaming water.

  “How long have you lived here?” Joe settled onto one of the vinyl-upholstered chairs.

  “Since the summer after I graduated from high school.”

  “You were able to buy a house when you were eighteen?”

  She smiled. “Of course not. It was my grandparents’. When Grandpa Roger retired and they relocated to Arizona, they gave this place to me. I had about eight roommates living with me during my college years. It helped pay the power bill.” She set his mug on the table, then sat on the chair opposite him.

  “You never wanted to leave Idaho?” he asked.

  “What for? Everything I want is here.”

  “Guess I can’t argue with that or I wouldn’t be moving back myself.” He lifted his mug and took a sip.

  That was the precise moment the chair viciously attacked his right leg.

  The instant Joe vaulted out of his chair with a yowl, his mug clattering to the floor, spilling tea everywhere, Alicia knew what had happened.

  “Rosie!” she scolded, leaning down—not an easy thing to do these days—to peer under the table.

  The orange tabby cat sat in the corner, looking pleased with herself.

  “Rosie?” Joe followed Alicia’s example, bending over to see his assailant for himself.

  Alicia shook her finger. “Shame on you, Rosie Harris.”

  The cat looked at Joe and hissed.

  “What sort of demon is that?”

  “She’s not a demon. Strangers make her nervous.”

  Joe straightened. “They make her nervous? She’s the one with claws.”

  Alicia sat up. “She’ll be okay once she gets used to you.”

  “She’d better.” He scowled. “Got a mop? I’ll clean up this mess.”

  “I’ll do it. She’s my cat.” She started to rise, but he stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

  “No, I’ll do it. Just tell me where the mop is.”

  “In the utility room.”

  “Any more cats lying in wait to take pieces out of me?”

  She shook her head. “No more cats. But there’s an overly friendly sheepdog in the backyard. I’ll introduce you to Rags later.”

  “Great,” he muttered as he turned away. “Just great.”

  Alicia bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

  “Go ahead,” he said without looking at her. “Laugh all you want. What goes around comes around.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  Joe knew there was a good reason he’d lived the past two decades without owning a pet. With his left hand grasping the mop handle, he leaned down to check his right calf. He wouldn’t be surprised if he found it bleeding. It wasn’t, but there were a couple of thin red welts.

  “This is a mistake and I’m going to regret it,” he muttered.

  It wasn’t too late, of course. He could tell Alicia he’d changed his mind. Nothing irreversible had happened yet.

  He came out of the utility room door and stopped still, captured by the view before him.

  Alicia leaned back in one of those ugly fifties chairs that looked as if they were straight out of a trolley car diner. She stroked her belly with both hands, a tender smile curving her bowlike mouth.

  “Humphrey,” she said softly, “you’re gonna have to help teach Rosie some manners when you get here. I don’t seem to be doing much of a job of it.”

  Humphrey. What kind of name was that to call a kid? The baby was likely to be born with a textbook full of classic neuroses. It would take years of counseling to straighten him out.

  As if she’d felt his gaze upon her, she glanced his way. Her smile vanished.

  He was sorry to see it go. “Found it.” He held up the mop. “Is it safe to come out?”

  It worked. She smiled again. “Yes. Rosie’s gone.”

  “You sure?” He poked his head around the edge of the door, pretending to be nervous.

  “I’m sure.” She pushed up from her chair. “While you do that, I’ll make sure everything’s ready for you in the baby’s room. There’s a twin-size bed in there for you to use.”

  “Hey, Alicia.”

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder.

  “I planned on staying at a motel until your grandfather arrives. But I could use a place to store my stuff.”

  “I’ve got a room for storage upstairs. You can put most of it there. But you’ll need some things in my bedroom and bathroom.” She blushed the way she had that day in the café. “You know, so Grandpa won’t suspect anything.”

  “I have a bad feeling about all of this.”

  “Are you trying to back out?”

  As everyone in the world knew—judging by the countless jokes he’d heard over the past decade—lawyers were cold, calculating scavengers, the bottom-feeders of society, out to cut whoever’s throat they must. But Joe didn’t feel cold or calculating when she looked at him the way she was now. Instead, he felt like some chivalrous knight riding out to protect the fair damsel in distress.

  Which was about the most absurd thing he’d ever thought!

  “No,” he answered as he turned away and applied the mop to the floor. “I made a promise and I’ll keep it. But I think this is all one big mistake.”

  They had three days to learn everything they could about each other. Alicia knew it wasn’t much time.

  “We must seem as though we’re in love,” she said as they sat down that evening to a supper of green salad, spaghetti and garlic bread. “If we’ve been married for nearly eight months, we should have some sort of routine worked out.” She reached for the salt shaker. “So tell me. Are you a morning person or a night person?”

  “Night.”

  “I love mornings. I’m all sunshine and singing.”

  “That’s sick.” He tore off a piece of garlic bread. “My turn. Do you drink herbal tea because you like it or because you’re pregnant?”

  “Both. But I prefer coffee in the morning.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork. “My doctor’s name is Jamison. Matt Jamison. He’s a general practitioner, and he’s been my doctor for eight years.”

  “Why didn’t you take my name when we got married?”

  “That’s a good point. Grandpa Roger will ask that, too.” She pondered the matter for a few moments while eating. “I suppose we could use the excuse of all the red tape the store would have to go through.”

  “What kind of store is it, by the way? I’ve forgotten what your profile said.”

  “It’s called Bundles of Joy, and it’s a maternity and baby shop.”

  Joe raised an eyebrow as he straightened in his chair. “You’re kidding.”

  “No. Not kidding.”

  “How long have you been in business?”

  “For five years. I moved the store to the Main Street location three years ago. It’s one block from the coffee shop where we met last week.” She frowned. “Didn’t we cover any of this after we connected on LinkedIn?”

  “Some. But we’d better go over it again and again.”

  Alicia had a suspicion that Joe was beginning to enjoy himself. Perhaps this was a little like preparing for a trial. She could almost see the wheels in his head turning.

  “What’s the story about how we became reacquainted?” he asked. “And what are you telling your grandfather about why you kept the marriage a secret all this time?”

  Her appetite, normally robust, was gone. She pushed her plate away, then slid her chair back from the table and rose. She walked to the window. A nearly full moon peeked over the mountains in the east. In a short while, it would be almost as bright as day outside.

  She hated the idea of lying to Grandpa Roger, but what else could she do? He didn’t need stress right now, not with his health so fragile. She remembered how he’d looked in that hospital room with machines beeping and fluids dripping through tubes. It was nothing short of a miracle that he was alive today, and he wasn’t out of danger yet.

  No, she didn’t have any other choice. She
would tell a thousand lies if she had to. She would pretend to be married and happy. To protect Grandpa Roger, she would do anything.

  Joe touched her shoulder.

  Surprised—she hadn’t heard his approach—she turned quickly.

  “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle and low, his eyes watching her with concern.

  She nodded, feeling weepy.

  “Maybe we’ve covered enough for tonight. We can start again in the morning.”

  “Thanks for doing this, Joe.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t say it enough. Thanks. I know it’s an imposition.”

  He grinned. “I don’t know. Free rent for six weeks. Somebody to talk to over a great supper of spaghetti. What’s an imposition about that?”

  “But it is, and we both know it.”

  “Hey.” He leaned a little closer, laying the flat of his hand against her cheek. “What’re old friends for?”

  Her heart leaped in her chest. Her breath felt short.

  Joe’s eyes widened a fraction, then he stepped back from her. Looking over his shoulder toward the table, he said, “I’ll clear up. You go on to bed. I can let myself out.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “I’m used to doing dishes, Alicia. I’ve been taking care of myself for a lot of years.”

  She should ask him about his own brief marriage. It was something a second wife would know. But that could wait for another time.

  “Go on.” He jerked his head toward the doorway. “I’ll make sure everything’s locked up and the lights turned out.” He smiled again. “See you in the morning. I’ll be here bright and early.”

  She half wished he would take her in his arms. Then common sense returned.

  “Good night,” she whispered and hurried out of the kitchen.

  “That went well, Palermo.”

  This knight-in-shining-armor gig wasn’t as easy as it looked.

  Joe cleared the table, setting dirty dishes on the counter and putting leftovers in the fridge. Then he filled the deep sink with hot sudsy water and washed the dishes, setting them in the drain to air-dry.