by Amber Cross
“Well, that and there are a lot of rules about it. You can’t have scuba gear, so you have to be quick, have strong lungs, and be able to dive after your prey.”
“Is it dangerous?”
“Not really. You just want to keep the lobster, or whatever you get, on the tip of the spear so if a shark comes for it you don’t lose your supper and your hand.”
“Is that all?”
“There are a few other things to watch out for. Jellyfish. Lionfish. Red coral.” She waved her fingers in an et cetera motion. It was hard to tell a non-native all the things that might be a concern.
“Maybe we can just observe?” he suggested, resting his forehead against hers. “After all, I do have kids to return to.”
****
Those kids were waiting for him two days later when they stepped out of the elevator of their building in Somerset. Colin leaned against the wall, and Darcy sat on the floor beside the entrance to Glen’s condo.
“What are you two doing here?” He seemed as surprised to see them as she was.
“We couldn’t remember the code to get in,” Darcy said.
“No, I meant here, in Vermont.”
“Derek got called to California for a final interview, and Mom went with him. Aunt Linda came and got us.”
Abby could feel the tension in Glen when he heard this explanation. His voice was deadly calm, though, when he asked, “How long ago did this happen?”
“Saturday.”
It was Monday afternoon. Glen was supposed to stay with her through Wednesday, but she understood this meant their time together was probably at an end even before he spoke.
“You’ve been staying with your grandparents?” Colin nodded. “Then we’ll go there to get your things, but tomorrow I’m taking you back to New York so you don’t miss more school.” He punched in the code to his condo and waved them inside. “I’m going to talk to Abby for a few minutes.”
Across the square hall Abby was entering the code to her home and trying not to be too disappointed. They had spent a wonderful five days together. Resenting this change of plans would be like resenting his children, and she truly liked the teenagers. Sort of like him, loving his kids but disliking their mother.
“I’m sorry about this,” he said, following her into her living room and swinging the door shut behind him.
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but I was looking forward to…well, more.”
Abby didn’t take off her winter jacket before sinking onto the sofa. She held her hand out to him and he joined her. “Does she pull stuff like this a lot?”
He nodded. “She likes to mess with my plans whenever she can. Put me in positions where I’ll look like the bad guy if I react the way I want to, the way any normal person would react.”
“I admire the way you don’t rise to the bait.” He shrugged, but she wanted him to know how special that was. “My parents did some of that. Mom wanted absolute loyalty. She doesn’t like David or Romney and made sure that I knew it and they knew it. She would have cut Dad out of the picture if she could have, and his family with him.”
“That must have been tough.”
“I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but I was a smart kid and logical, so I knew what was going on even if I didn’t always understand it. You know, logos and pathos aren’t always compatible.”
He grinned tiredly. “You can say that again. You seem so balanced, though. What was your constant? What helped you get through it?”
“My grandparents. Both sets because their love was constant and unconditional so I had a model of what was right. David’s mother, Flo, was also a big part of it. My mother is a feminist, and she always tries to prove that she is logical and rational and not guided by emotion.”
“Flo’s not like that?”
“No. Her heart rules all her decisions. She’s impulsive and warm and funny. Like Romney. She told me to scream at the top of my lungs if I needed to and bought a punching bag just for me.”
“She sounds wonderful. Did you scream at the top of your lungs?”
“No. Because I could if I wanted to, and with permission, I didn’t have to.” Abby would always be grateful to her stepmother for giving her that out, even if she never took it.
They fell silent for a moment, both staring sightlessly into the room lit only by the last rays of late March sun. He threaded his fingers through hers but didn’t seem conscious of it. The clock on the wall beside her grandmother’s portrait chimed half past the hour. Glen drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Would you like to have dinner with us?”
“I thought you were taking the kids to your parents’ house?”
“I am. Would you like to come with us, meet my folks and my brother Roger?”
Anything to prolong their time together. “I’d love to.”
The Plankey farm was on the west side of town, across the state route from Linda’s Town Line Diner. A road ran up the edge of the hayfield and through a break in the tree line at the top of the hill before descending down the other side to a large network of pastures filled with black and white Holsteins and patches of snow mixed with dry winter grass. The farmhouse itself was two stories, white with green roof and shutters, and the long red barn was connected to it by a narrow shed. Behind it two silos caught the last rays of sun on their silver domes.
As soon as Glen parked the car in the yard Colin and Darcy scrambled out of the back seat and were immediately greeted by a barking brown mongrel with frantically wagging tail.
“Quintessential Vermont,” Abby said.
“Home sweet home.”
She could appreciate his feeling for the place. Her childhood included multiple homes, but it wasn’t until she moved to Somerset that she really felt she belonged to a place. What would it be like for someone who grew up here and loved it to be forced by circumstances to leave? He had suffered profound loss in more ways than one when his ex-wife divorced him.
“Come on. Mom can’t wait to meet you.”
****
Abby didn’t know what she had expected from Glen’s family, but their welcome could not have been warmer. His father, a tall man with a receding hairline, nodded hello before handing her a knife and a bowl of steaming squash to be peeled.
“That means you’re in,” Roger told her with a wink that reminded her of Glen. The blue eyes, she supposed, because the brothers were otherwise very different. Where Glen was tall and lean, Roger was just over medium height but square in both face and body. Linda was a combination of the two.
“Hello again,” she greeted from where she was buttering a pan of rolls at the end of the kitchen table. “Glad you could join us.”
“Thank you.” Abby picked up half a squash and immediately dropped it back into the bowl, burned by the fruit’s hot flesh.
Glen was at her side at once. “Let me see.” Taking her fingers, he blew on the tips of them until they had cooled. “I’ll help.” Snagging a long fork from a rack on the counter, he speared a piece of squash and held it out to her. “You take the fork, I’ll peel.”
They had finished one piece and started on another when a woman who could only be Glen’s mother joined them from the next room. She was tall and strikingly attractive with gray-streaked, dark hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Her smile encompassed everyone in the kitchen. “You must be Abby.” Crossing to where they worked, she slid an arm around Glen’s waist and hugged him close. “I see they didn’t even give you time to take your coats off.”
“It’s okay,” Abby said.
“Well, if you’re not too proud to help us make supper, we’re more than happy to have you join our family.”
Abby darted a quick look at Glen. A double entendre or an innocent welcome? His mother’s first language was French, still evident in her soft vowels and the blunted edges of her consonants, so maybe she was only welcoming her to the table? Glen’s only response was to kiss his mother’s cheek and spear another piece of sq
uash, so Abby took her cue from him.
“My mother likes you,” he said when he came to say goodbye early the next morning.
“I’m glad.”
“She and Roger’s wife were close. Mindy. She died of breast cancer when Bryce was a baby, and we all miss her still. My ex-wife was nothing like her.”
Abby made no comment. Where Glen was careful not to say too much about the woman, especially around his children, she knew how much he had been hurt by her, so it was only natural that his family would dislike her for that alone.
“Anyway, I came to tell you that I had a great time in the Bahamas.” Kissing her lips, he sifted a hand through her hair, still damp from the shower. “Thank you for sharing your family with me.”
“You’re welcome.” She wanted to share more than those few days and nights. But were they on the same page, emotionally?
As if reading her mind, he pressed his forehead to hers. “We fit, Abby. You and me.”
She could have joked about their sexual compatibility, but she knew that wasn’t what he meant. Was he ready to make a commitment? Holding her breath, she waited anxiously for him to continue.
“Let’s talk about that some more when I come back in two weeks.”
“Okay.”
Then he kissed her. A long kiss full of hope and promise. His hands warmed her body through the soft, pink fleece she wore, his scent surrounding her like a protective cloak while his tongue explored and committed her taste to memory.
When he let her go, she stumbled back.
“Whoa!” Reacting quickly, he grasped her elbows until she was once more steady on her feet.
“Sorry. Just a little dizzy.”
“The sinus infection again?”
She grinned at him. “More likely it’s you.”
“I’m flattered. But if it happens again, promise me you’ll see a doctor?”
“Promise.”
****
Doctor French’s general practice was at the opposite end of the common from the church, so when Abby stepped out of the building on Friday afternoon two weeks later, the white steeple was the first thing she saw. That brought back memories of Jason and Sara’s November wedding. How unsuspecting she had been then. Not having any idea that meeting Glen at the door and then being seated with him at the reception would lead to this. A baby.
She spent the remainder of the afternoon and all evening cleaning out her spare room. Nervous. Nesting. Whatever the root cause, it gave her something to do while she waited for him to arrive from New York. She couldn’t wait to tell him! He would be surprised, of course, but after he got over that, would he be as excited as she was? To have a baby with someone he cared for, who cared for him? She wanted him to have everything he had been denied the first and second time he became a father. He could come to prenatal appointments with her. Be in the hospital room when the baby was born. Play guitar lullabies at night to send it off to sleep, every night, seven nights a week, not just on alternating weekends. He could watch the baby take its first step, hear its first word, be there when it unwrapped gifts on Christmas morning.
Hopefully it was a boy. Or a girl. She didn’t care; she was so lucky to have conceived at her age that she would be happy with either one. He probably wouldn’t have a preference, anyway, since he already had a son and daughter.
What time was it? The clock on the wall said only nine thirty. How was she ever going to keep such wonderful news to herself? She was tempted to call The Gables and share with David, but Glen deserved to be the first person to hear the news. Maybe in the morning they could tell their families. Have breakfast at the Town Line Diner with Jason and Sara joining the two of them and Linda, then lunch with her brother. They could get Romney on a video chat and tell him at the same time. Then there was Hume. He hadn’t even met Hume! There were so many people on both sides to inform that they might not get to them all in one day.
She was still daydreaming about it when the elevator pinged. Having left her door ajar in order to hear it, she rushed out of her condo and met him at the door to his own. Laughing excitedly, she didn’t even give him a chance to remove his coat before pressing up against him and kissing him with all the joy in her heart.
“What is this all about?” he asked several moments later. “Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”
“I have some big news!” The words flew out of her mouth the way a child would shout them. She wanted to dance around in circles the way children with happy secrets do too.
“And are you going to share it with me?” He was still wearing his winter jacket.
“Why don’t you take that off first?”
“You sure you can wait?” he teased, pushing the door open and motioning for her to precede him into the condo. A small entryway was separated from the kitchen by a counter and open to the living room with a long couch and two overstuffed chairs.
She was standing beside them when he joined her because there was no way her excitement would let her sit patiently. She also couldn’t keep the huge grin from her face when she took his hand and without meaning to blurted out the good news. “I’m pregnant.”
He froze. Well, she had expected that. Sort of. After all, it was a big surprise. But she hadn’t expected the emotional withdrawal following that first reaction. His hand went slack in hers. All expression wiped from his face as if by an eraser. She couldn’t read him at all.
“Say that again.” His rough tone held all the emotion missing from his face, and it wasn’t good.
“Your hearing is fine.” She refused to repeat herself. This was the biggest event of her life, bigger than law school, bigger than becoming a judge. If he couldn’t share in her happiness, she wasn’t going to let him steal it from her.
She watched as he swallowed. Hard. When he turned on his heel and paced away from her, all the muscles in his body seemed to be as clenched as his fists were. She had never seen him so rigid.
Just as abruptly he swung back to face her. Emotions played over his face like a theater screen now. Shock. Of course. She had felt the same way but had some time to think about it, where this was all new to him. But that was replaced with disbelief and quickly after that came anger. She watched it grow. Watched his blue eyes narrow, his head coming up as his chest filled with that ugly, self-righteous emotion he had no right to feel.
He’d better not say it.
“How did this happen?”
He said it. Even though she’d asked the doctor the same thing, his question sparked intense anger inside her because he wasn’t asking in the stunned, I-didn’t-think-this-was-possible way that she had. No, he was asking in the skeptical, how-could-you-do-this-to-me way.
Taking a deep breath, she gave him a matter-of-fact answer. “I didn’t know antibiotics interfered with the effectiveness of birth control. I took antibiotics for the sinus infection. Before the weekend in New York.”
“Yes. I know when you took antibiotics. But I find it hard to believe someone with your maturity and intelligence didn’t read the prescription label.” His sarcasm was thick like an oily shroud around her, sinister and ugly. “You know, they do warn you about things like that.”
She wanted to kick him or scratch his eyes out. Only this was too important, so she swallowed the angry impulse and spoke carefully if a little sarcastically herself. “I know they do, but I haven’t taken antibiotics since I was in college and had no reaction then. I don’t take any other drugs, so it never occurred to me to read the label beyond dosing instructions.”
“But you were taking another drug. Or at least that’s the story you gave me.”
That did it. His comment wasn’t even worthy of a reply. She understood his ex-wife lied to him, tricked him into pregnancy and marriage, but if he thought she would use that age-old script he didn’t know her at all. Stepping around the nearest chair, she turned to leave.
“Where are you going?” he asked. Incredulously, as if he had the right to be offended.
“Home.”
She turned the knob and opened the door. “When you’re ready to talk to me without accusations, you know where to find me.”
Righteous anger carried her across the square hall where she entered her own unit, set the locks and the alarm, before crumpling to the floor and dissolving into tears. How dare he? To suggest that she would stoop to the level of getting pregnant on purpose. Did he really have such a low opinion of her? She could have sworn he knew her better than that, but then she’d also thought he would stop her before she left his condo. Try to keep her and talk some more. Maybe catch her before she entered her own place or pound on the door and ring the bell.
But he didn’t come. Instead he let her sit there against the panel, crying her eyes out, waiting for him to make it better. How pathetic was that?
When she had exhausted her tears and reached a general state of lethargy, she dragged herself to her feet and into the bedroom. He just needed time to deal with this. While she had been thinking of nothing else for hours, this was news to him and a shock. So it wasn’t the reaction she hoped for; she would get over it. She wasn’t the first woman to be questioned about contraception use and conception, and she wouldn’t be the last. But she might make him eat a little crow when he finally adjusted to the idea and came to talk about it. Make him pay for this misery. That would help restore her spirits.
Until then, she toed off her shoes, flopped down on the bed without even pulling back the covers, and instantly fell asleep.
Chapter Ten
She woke the next morning to quiet. Sometime during the night she must have pulled the covers up over herself, but she was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes. Bright sunshine flooded the bedroom, telling her it was late even before she read the clock. It was after eight.
Had Glen come over only for her to sleep through the doorbell? That thought had her catapulting out of bed, but a wave of nausea forced her to sit back and take deep breaths while her head stopped spinning. Much more slowly she rose and tiptoed to the front door. She didn’t know what she expected, but when she opened it, the hall was empty. Closing it again, she retrieved her cell phone from her jacket pocket. No green light indicated missed texts; no little red flag announced new voicemail messages.