Surprise Delivery

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Surprise Delivery Page 12

by D. J. Jamison


  “I do.”

  “I thought she was just trying to stir up trouble or make me worry so I’d go home,” Olivia said. “I know you don’t bring strange men home. But now I’m wondering, was someone here when my mom came over?”

  Eric blushed. He lifted a hand to cover his face as he mumbled, “Yeah.”

  “Was it Dr. Rollins?” she asked. “You guys seem to be hitting it off.”

  Which was her tactful way of saying she’d caught them sneaking kisses like a couple of kids, and probably looking ten kinds of guilty when she’d arrived home early the other night.

  Eric dropped his hands and looked her in the eye, even though he was uncomfortable. She deserved honesty.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “So, Dr. Rollins was here, and Mom came over and flipped.” She paused, an impish look on her face. “Was he dressed?”

  “Livvie,” Eric exclaimed with a fresh rush of heat to his face.

  Her eyes widened. “He wasn’t, was he? You hooked up with Dr. Rollins!”

  “No, he was just… He was in the shower when your mom got here,” Eric said, realizing he wasn’t helping his case. He cleared his throat. “Maybe I should have asked how you’d feel about me and Casper dating? He’s your doctor. I don’t want things to be uncomfortable for you.”

  She grinned. “Don’t worry about that. I think it’s great.”

  “Okay, but don’t get too excited,” Eric said. “It’s … we’re just starting to date. We’re not on the road to marriage or anything.”

  She smiled. “I know, but wouldn’t that be great? Uncle Casper has a nice ring to it.”

  “Oh, God.”

  She laughed. “I’m teasing you.”

  “We should talk about your mother,” Eric said, hating to cut into the light moment, but needing to be honest. “I said some things to her that were harsh.”

  “You probably had good reason.”

  It pained him that Olivia so easily understood why Eric would lose his temper and accepted without explanation that he had reason for it. Of course, she hadn’t seen him tangling with her mother on the porch, and she knew the backstory of their family, unlike Casper.

  “Still, I regret that I lost my temper so badly.”

  “I’ll tell her not to come here anymore.”

  “She knows.”

  Olivia’s shoulders slumped. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault,” he said, “but your parents might not make it easy for you to stay here. I’m sorry about that. I’ve probably made your situation worse. If they report you as a runaway, I’m not sure I can do much to help you.”

  Olivia nodded. “That’s why I’ve done the guardianship change papers. I’ve been researching what my parents can do and what the police might do if they get involved.”

  “Smart girl.”

  She smiled. “Not smart enough.” She patted her belly as evidence. “But I’m learning.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Eric pulled into his driveway, cursing the time. He was running late to meet Casper for their date. Despite their rocky morning after, they’d continued seeing each other, but Casper hadn’t spent the night since — not that there were a lot of opportunities. Eric wasn’t ready to have sleepovers with Olivia in the house, and he sensed Casper wanted to slow down. He tried not to let it bother him, because they had moved from casual dates to sexy sleepover pretty quickly.

  But tonight he hoped he could lure Casper back into his bedroom, at least for a few hours. They were meeting at Casper’s gym for a workout, and then Eric hoped they could have a different kind of workout while Olivia was working the night shift.

  His phone buzzed with a text, and as he expected, it was from Casper.

  Cas: Gym tonight? Right?

  He started to tap out an answer but paused when he heard footsteps coming toward him. He looked up to see a man in front of him.

  Bruce.

  He sucked in a startled breath as Bruce jerked him around and shoved him against his car. “Who do you think you are, putting your hands on my wife?” he growled.

  Eric’s heart hammered so loudly he could barely hear his own response. “She hit me first.”

  It was a little grade-school as far as comebacks went, but he was too scared to think straight. Bruce was a working man, foreman on his construction crew, and he was in good shape. As he loomed over Eric, his biceps bulging under flannel, Eric was afraid of what could happen if Bruce lost control. Eric worked out just enough to keep the extra pounds off, but he wasn’t strong. He wasn’t a fighter.

  Bruce clenched his hand around Eric’s arm tight enough to hurt. “Why do you think that is?” he demanded. “Our daughter is here instead of at home where she belongs. You’re interfering in our family, exposing Olivia to things she shouldn’t see—”

  Eric shook his head. “I’m not,” he said quickly. “I just gave Livvie a safe place to stay. That’s all.”

  Bruce snorted. “Safe. Right.”

  “Laura doesn’t know what she saw. She misunderstood.”

  “I ought to kick your ass, Holtz. I will if you ever touch Laura again,” Bruce threatened.

  “I won’t,” Eric promised quickly, hating how his voice trembled. Keeping Bruce talking seemed his best course of action, however. If Bruce was talking, he wasn’t punching. That seemed crucial.

  “I only wanted her to leave,” Eric continued. He tried to appeal to Bruce’s sentiment that a man’s house was his castle. He knew enough about his sister’s husband to know he held traditional values. “She came into my house and insulted me, Bruce. She hit me. She wouldn’t leave. I had to get her out of there or call the police, and I don’t think any of us want to involve the police in our family business.”

  Bruce took a step back to Eric’s relief. “We ought to call the cops on you. You’re keeping our runaway daughter from us. I’ve wanted to call the police from day one.”

  Eric shook his head, breathing easier now that Bruce wasn’t pinning him to the car.

  Bruce went on before Eric could come up with a response that wouldn’t provoke him. “And now Laura says we’re not even allowed to come by and check on Livvie? Anything could be happening over here. Laura says you had a man in your fucking shower. Christ.”

  He spit at the ground, as if the idea was so vile it had polluted his mouth to speak of it.

  “Bruce, if I can trust you to stay calm, I’d like to clear the air. I think we could be straight with each other—”

  Bruce made a disgusted sound, and Eric ignored it.

  “— without the emotion that rises between Laura and me. We have our family history in the way. We both get too emotional.”

  Bruce shoved his hands in his jeans. Bigot or not, Bruce wasn’t the kind of guy to prevaricate. He and Eric might be able to reach some sort of understanding if they talked calmly.

  “Okay, I’ll hear you out. I’m not going to see anything in there I can’t unsee, am I?”

  “Not unless throw pillows offend you,” Eric replied dryly.

  Bruce chuckled as he followed him through the front door. “If they did, I’d never be able to live with your sister.”

  Eric led Bruce to the kitchen, surreptitiously sending a text to Casper that he was running late and to call him in fifteen minutes. If things didn’t go well, he wanted an interruption.

  “Texting your man?” Bruce asked sarcastically.

  Eric hesitated, then nodded. “I’m supposed to meet him.”

  Bruce smirked. “I’m not going to beat you up, Eric. You can chill with the buddy system.”

  Eric tucked his phone away as he rounded the breakfast bar, asking, “Coffee or beer?”

  Laura tended to frown on alcohol, but he suspected Bruce kicked back with his work buddies.

  “Think I’ll be needing a beer for this conversation,” Bruce said, taking a seat at the kitchen island. Eric nodded and grabbed two bottles of Sam Adams from the fridge and opened a drawer for a bottle opener. After he’d pop
ped off the tops, he handed Bruce his drink.

  “That’s the same spot Olivia does her homework,” he said, trying to ease Bruce into seeing his home as something other than a sin factory.

  Bruce grinned and took a long swallow. “I prefer Bud, but at least it ain’t some fancy imported shit.”

  “Right.” Eric sipped at his beer, more of a wine drinker himself, but Casper’s beer was hopefully going to a good cause.

  “So, talk if you’re going to talk,” Bruce said.

  He was direct, but that was the one thing Eric had always liked about his sister’s husband. He didn’t lie or sugarcoat anything; he was blunt but authentic.

  “Okay, so here’s the thing. I’m a doctor. I have an average house. You can take a look around. There are no dungeons or orgies or whatever the hell you guys are worried about.”

  “Hmm.” Bruce lifted his beer with two fingers and drained it. He slammed it down and belched. “Shit, that hit the spot.”

  He raised an eyebrow at Eric. “Got another one?”

  “Sure.” Eric fetched a new beer and opened it, wondering if Bruce was using him as a refuge from home. He seemed awfully comfortable drinking Eric’s beer. Eric couldn’t get a read on what might be going through Bruce’s mind. He knew he didn’t approve of homosexuality, but he’d kind of expected him to be angrier. Instead, he seemed relaxed, but in that eerie way the sky does just before a storm.

  After another long drink, Bruce glanced around. “It does seem like a nice place.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So, where’d you fuck the guy who was here when Laura came by?”

  He had a challenging look on his face, like he wanted Eric to incriminate himself. But he was a grown-up, and he was allowed to have lovers.

  “Look, if you want the dirty details, I can tell you about the kitchen blowjob—”

  Bruce jumped off his stool so quickly he nearly knocked it over.

  Eric pressed his lips together, trying to quash his inappropriate humor at Bruce’s expense.

  “But that seems a little pervy, right?” Eric continued as if Bruce hadn’t reacted. “I’m an adult. I’m not sure why my sexual activities are your business.”

  “Olivia—”

  “Wasn’t here,” Eric objected. “I haven’t been with Casper while she was here, although I’m sure that doesn’t stop you and her mom.”

  “Don’t speak about Laura,” he growled. “What we do is natural and loving. We’re married. There is no comparison.”

  “We might not be married, but Casper isn’t some random guy I picked up at a bar. He’s a doctor.” Eric decided it would be better not to mention he was Olivia’s doctor. “We’re dating.”

  “So, he’s your boyfriend?” Bruce asked. “Do you really think that makes it okay?”

  “I’m aware you and Laura don’t think being gay is okay,” he said. “But I am what I am.”

  “I don’t want Livvie around this shit,” Bruce said. “She’s messed up enough. Running off won’t solve her problems. I know she doesn’t want to move in with my sister, but she can’t honestly think staying in Ashe is good for her.”

  “Why isn’t it?”

  Bruce paused to swig the rest of his beer. “It’s summer now, but what about when school starts? The other kids will think she’s a slut and they’ll treat her badly,” he said bluntly. “Her mother is worried about the church, but I’m worried about my daughter.”

  “If that’s true, you should tell her that. Just knowing you care will help Livvie. She thinks you’re disgusted by her.”

  Bruce shook his head. “Nah. I’m pissed she won’t tell me who the father is, so I can whip his ass.” His eyes narrowed. “You don’t know, do you?”

  “No.”

  “This thing with Laura being banned from the house ...”

  “It stands,” Eric said. “She insulted me and assaulted me. I can’t have that here. My family can’t accept who I am? Fine. But they don’t get to come to my house and harass me.”

  Bruce nodded, surprisingly. “Have it your way.”

  “You can come by to check on Olivia if you can keep a cool head,” Eric said, hoping he wouldn’t regret it. “She misses you.”

  Bruce hummed. “We’ll see if she wants that. She seems determined to replace us with you, and I’m not interested in forcing my daughter to talk to me. I’m not going to drag her home by her hair, even if you do think I’m some kind of caveman. I won’t get the law involved either. Not yet. Don’t make me regret that.”

  Eric held up his hands. “I don’t plan on it.”

  “Good. Keep the boyfriend away from her. Don’t mess around when she’s here. Can you promise me that? She doesn’t need to be seeing that shit. And don’t put ideas in her head.”

  Bruce’s words rankled. Eric shouldn’t have to promise not to spend time with his boyfriend in his own house, but he was pretty much doing that anyway.

  “Trust me,” he said, “Livvie has plenty of ideas in her head already. “She doesn’t need me to put them there.”

  ***

  Bruce’s words had reminded Eric of the coming school year, and Olivia’s father wasn’t entirely wrong to worry about how Olivia’s pregnancy would go over with her classmates. Olivia was worried too.

  As the first day of school neared, she grew moody and anxious. Searching for ways to lift her spirits, Eric took her school supply shopping, and when she had an emotional meltdown over the tightness of her shorts, he added a stop at a maternity clothing store to their trip.

  “I hate this,” she said as she picked through blouses on a rack. “They don’t design these things with teenagers in mind.”

  “I hoped this might cheer you up,” Eric said. “We don’t have to buy anything.”

  She flashed him a quick smile. “No, it’s thoughtful. I’m sure I’ll find something. I’m just really nervous about school starting.”

  “That’s understandable. Have you told anyone about the baby?”

  At twenty-one weeks, there was no hiding her baby bump. She was in month five and buying oversized shirts or loose-fitting pants wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

  “A few of my close friends. And, the baby’s father knows. I don’t think he’ll say anything.” She looked down at her swelling belly. “Not like he’ll need to, right?”

  “Honey, you’re beautiful—”

  She shoved a peasant-style blouse at him. “Ugh. Just hold this.” She grabbed a skirt and thrust it at him. “And this.”

  “Okay then,” he murmured, taking it as a cue to shut up. As she made her way through the racks, she piled clothes in his arms until he had an entire closet’s worth. He hadn’t planned on buying these many clothes, but he was afraid to say anything. His worries ended up being moot, though, because Olivia returned from the dressing room with just five items: three shirts and two pairs of pants.

  “Where’s the rest?” he asked.

  She laughed like he’d said something silly. “They didn’t work. Duh. Let’s go back to that sales rack again.”

  It was an exhausting shopping trip, but Olivia eventually opened up a bit more about her fears of everyone staring at her, knowing she’d had sex. “Guess I do feel guilty and embarrassed, like I did something wrong and got caught.”

  Eric pulled out his credit card and handed it to the cashier, watching the total climb. Maternity clothes weren’t cheap, but Olivia hadn’t broken the bank with her total of twelve items after two more trips to the dressing room.

  “It wasn’t wrong,” he said, “but you weren’t ready for the consequences of your actions, meaning you probably weren’t ready for your actions. Know what I’m saying?”

  She sighed. “Yeah, but Peanut is coming, ready or not.”

  Eric grinned. “You’re right, so might as well not dwell on regrets, right? Focus on the future. And if anyone at school says something, just give them a wink and tell them you’re just an overachiever getting started early on your future.”

  Ol
ivia laughed. “Yeah, right.”

  “Hey, a little snark can go a long way toward shutting people up. If they can’t ruffle you, they’ll stop trying.”

  Eric wasn’t just talking out of his ass. There’d been a time, when he was twenty years younger and dealing with coming out to his friends and family, that he’d been the one relying on snark to cope. He’d lost his family in one fell swoop. His friends had been more of a trickle effect. They said they accepted him, but one by one they stopped calling. He’d moved on with his career, met Perry, made new friends — some gay, some not — but it hadn’t been a cakewalk. He didn’t envy Olivia the school year ahead.

  They loaded bags into the car, and Olivia pondered his words. “Easier said than done,” she said finally.

  Eric nodded. “It always is.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Casper looked at his phone screen and sighed. His mother was calling, but at least she’d called his personal cell number instead of the emergency line. She probably wanted to talk about Rose’s wedding. He’d called to congratulate his sister, but he hadn’t gotten around to returning his RSVP card. He’d looked at it a few times, stared at the name line and the Plus One check box, but something kept him from filling it out.

  It was on his refrigerator, held in place by a Darth Vader magnet. Rose, I am your … brother. Your brother who is ignoring your wedding. Why did he keep procrastinating? Going home wouldn’t be easy, but he’d already resigned himself to it, so he didn’t understand his reluctance.

  He answered the phone and flipped open his calendar. “I’ll be at Rose’s wedding, Mom. I’ve already written it in my calendar and canceled my appointments that week.”

  “Oh.” She sounded surprised. A stuttering breath escaped. “Actually, I just called, sweetie, because I know how down you get this time of year.”

  That’s when his eyes took in the date on the calendar. It was August now — how had the summer snuck by so quickly? — and the anniversary of Kage’s death was in just over a week. He’d forgotten. Or not forgotten; he’d never forget. But he hadn’t realized just how close the date was.

 

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