“You mean us,” Meghan said, biting her lip so as not to smile.
“Yes, ‘love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind.’” Byron quoted Shakespeare.
Meghan quoted back, “‘The course of true love never did run smooth.’”
Sarah sank back to her chair. “What are you two going on about?”
Mick stood. “You guys stay seated,” he told the others. “You did all the work, at least let me clean up.”
“No way!” Meghan started to rise, and he pointed a finger at her.
“Sit,” he ordered—just as she had to him, and Sarah was surprised when Meg stayed put. Mick picked up the dinner plates and cutlery and carried them into the kitchen. Giving them a quick rinse, he then slid them into the dish washer, and went back for the two platters.
Sarah glared at him when he accidentally bumped into her chair. “My father’s war was different than yours, so please just let me speak.”
“As if I could stop you,” he answered, heading back for the kitchen.
Ugh. Sarah turned to Meghan. “I’m excited to dig into all this stuff. I find it fascinating.” She reached a hand in her direction. “Aren’t you?”
Meghan shrugged. “I think so. I just hope we don’t find anything we’ll regret.”
Sarah took a slug of water, thinking the same thing. “We won’t,” she said, hoping that was true. “We know our father, and how honorable he was.” She looked at her sister and then at Byron, hoping for his support. Mick rushed back and forth with the dishes, obviously trying to avoid the conversation completely. “If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, Sarah,” Meghan said. “Just a huge surprise, that’s all. We can talk about this tomorrow.”
“Fine.” She leaped out of her chair to run around the table and squeeze Meghan’s shoulder. “I was going to wait until we were alone, but then with Mick here, well, it just made me think of Dad.”
“We have plenty of time.” Meghan turned her head to smile at Liam, making sure he was all right. The boy was busy with his TV show—not paying attention to the adult conversation or noticing the tension in the dining room.
Mick stood next to his chair and looked at her, his brown eyes filled with sincerity. “I apologize, Sarah, and to all of you. It wasn’t my place to say anything.”
Byron raised his glass of wine. “To your father, Sarah and Meghan. I wish that I’d had a chance to meet your parents. I’m sure that I would have loved them both.”
Meghan gave him a warm look. “They would have loved you too.”
“Enough surprises for one night,” Byron said, getting up from his chair. “It’s still three weeks until Christmas.”
The men left the table to sit next to the fire, and the two sisters finished cleaning up. They wrapped the leftovers and put them in the refrigerator. Alone in the kitchen, Meg asked, “So what do you think of Mick now? He’s changed a lot, hasn’t he?”
Sarah could see him through the open door chatting with Byron, looking comfortable in her sister’s home. “He sure has. Very opinionated, if you ask me.”
The pathetic, near homeless man that she’d remembered had been humble and frightened of everyone and everything. Had it only been a year ago? This morning he’d stood his ground, and tonight, he’d been strong and assertive. She wasn’t sure which one she liked better.
Meghan put some freshly ground coffee beans into the basket, added eight cups of water, and turned on the coffee maker. “He was definitely animated tonight. There were sparks flying.”
“What do you mean?” Sarah had the cups and saucers lined up on the counter top.
“He’s attracted to you.” Putting her back to the counter, Meg smiled at Sarah. “How could he not be?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. He insulted me. Thinking a man’s hairy chest would get me all heated up. Really? That is so sexist. And just plain stupid.” Sarah pushed her long hair off her face, feeling beads of perspiration on her forehead and the back of her neck. With the heat from the stove and the fire burning brightly in the next room, the small house was uncomfortably warm.
“Oh, I don’t know.” Meghan’s eyes sparkled with glee. “The sight of Byron’s chest gets me turned on, and I see it every night.”
“Lucky you. But he’s a lot more than a chest.” Byron chatted easily with Mick, showing him the latest book he was reading, and offering Mick one from his vast collection. Such an all-round great guy. “You love each other so much; it’s a beautiful thing to see. You deserve it, Meg. Especially after scumbag David did the dirty on you. Leaving you with Liam, and not giving you any child support.”
“It was a mutual decision. He didn’t have the heart for fatherhood, especially with the challenges Liam faced. Truly, I was happy to see him go. A clean break was better for all of us.”
“It was rough at the beginning, you shouldering the cost of a full-time nanny while you continued to work, but in the long run it turned out just great.” The two women studied the men browsing the bookcase, like-minded individuals, it seemed.
The sisters exchanged a smile.
“Now, back to your question—I think Mick has made a dramatic change.” Sarah sighed, hating to admit it. “He’s kind of cute actually, now that he’s cleaned up. And smart. But he’s still got a lot of anger inside of him and a lot of work ahead of him to become the man he needs to be.”
“Agreed.” Meghan topped off Sarah’s wine. “You ready for round two?”
“Round two? What are you going to do—pit me against Mick with two sets of boxing gloves?”
“No. I was thinking of dessert.”
“Oh!” Sarah placed a hand over her heart. “I forgot the pie.”
“I didn’t. It’s in the oven warming.” Meg tucked a blonde lock of hair behind her ear. “Come help me serve it.”
Byron, Liam and Mick returned to the table for Dutch apple pie and organic Boca Java gourmet coffee. The little boy rubbed his eyes and hugged his teddy bear. He was already in his Spiderman pajamas, but had stayed up for a small slice of pie.
Meghan served him first, and Byron cut up his slice into bite-sized pieces. Mick and Sarah sat opposite each other once again.
“You like reading?” she asked. “We saw you both going through Byron’s library. What are you interested in?” She added a dash of cream to her coffee and stirred.
“Everything,” he surprised her by saying. “It’s a great way to take your mind off things.”
“I guess it is. I was never much of a reader, except for spicy romances and a cozy mystery now and again.”
Meghan laughed. “Did you finish that whole spanking series?” Sarah blushed. “I waited for the TV version and watched the first one when Byron was working. Must admit that Gray was super hot.”
“Watch it, lady,” Byron growled, “or I’ll have to take you over my knee.”
“Oh, please?” Meg teased, licking apple crumbs off her fingers.
Mick turned to Sarah. “You into that kind of stuff?”
“Are you kidding me? A man tried to do that to me I’d cut his dick off.” She glanced at Liam. “Sorry.”
“What’s a dick?” Liam asked his mother.
“Oh, great.” Meghan rolled her eyes. “He’s got a new word. Let’s hope he doesn’t use that one in school.”
“Dick, dick, dick,” he sang and everyone laughed.
“Off to bed, little man,” his father said, picking Liam up and carrying him to his room.
“He’s doing better,” Mick said. “He seems happy.”
“He is. We are.” Meg touched her stomach. “I just felt junior kick. A soccer star in the making.”
Sarah smiled, happy for her sister, then put a hand on her own tummy. Her period was late…not much late…only a couple of days. What would she do?
CHAPTER FIVE
After everyone was in bed, Sarah went to the bathroom to check again. She prayed hard her period had come but there was nothing. If Rick knew she was
carrying his child…no…she wasn’t…she couldn’t be. He would never know, because she’d never let it happen. She didn’t want a baby, especially not right now. This was Meghan’s happy time, and she didn’t want her accident, this unplanned, unwanted pregnancy, to take the limelight away from her sister.
She knew what she would do, even if, as a nurse she was appalled at the thought of terminating this baby’s life. So, no baby. That was just how it had to be. Tomorrow, or later tonight her period would come and she’d be able to breathe again.
Sarah washed her hands and face, studying her reflection in the mirror. Her complexion was not as smooth as usual; she had a pimple or two on her chin. Her eyes, one of her finest features, had dark rings underneath. Her jaw ached from clenching her teeth, and she knew her dentist would say she needed a mouth guard. Again. She had a terrible habit of grinding her teeth when she was stressed. She’d needed a crown after cracking a back tooth when her parents had died.
This was almost as bad. The anxiety was killing her. No wonder her mood swings were all over the place, and that she cried at the drop of a hat. Rick Reynolds was a married man. His wife was having his baby. Their second child—they had a four-year-old boy at home.
Sarah was not his wife, or his girlfriend, or a part of his life. And as angry as she was with him, she didn’t want to hurt his family with any unhappy news. If it happened, and she was carrying his baby, she simply wanted to go somewhere and fade away. Unfortunately, when she’d asked Meg if she could come and stay for a while, to sort out her life, she hadn’t realized that her period was late. Now she was stuck.
Worst case scenario, maybe she could tell Meghan that she’d changed her mind about moving to Heaven. Tell her that she’d been dreaming of Hawaii, or wanted a trip to Australia before settling down to a new job. That would be understandable. Then with distance between them she could make a decision as to whether she wanted to raise a baby on her own. Or not.
She turned off the bathroom light, and went into the guest bedroom. She slipped off her robe and got under the covers. Closing her eyes, Sarah prayed—and prayed. It was no surprise that she didn’t sleep right away. She tossed and turned, thoughts flitting through her mind in waves.
What if nobody knew? What if she could hide the baby under her clothes, not gain much weight, and then give the baby up for adoption? After all, it was winter and she could have layers of clothing on. She could pretend she was putting on weight due to her broken heart. Or pig out on fattening sweets, then purge every night and not gain an ounce. Oh, she was a terrible person to think this way! What of her child?
Instead of counting sheep, Sarah closed her eyes tight and repeated the same sentence over and over. “I am not pregnant, I am not pregnant.” It didn’t help her get to sleep.
When she stumbled out of bed in the morning, the rest of the household was up. Wearing her robe and slippers, she headed for the kitchen in search of her first cup of java.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Meghan said cheerfully. She was already fully dressed, as was Liam, who was playing tag with his best friend. Keats chased him around and around, yipping with excitement.
It was only eight a.m. but with children Sarah supposed that was considered late. As a nurse working the evening shifts it was nothing for her to sleep in until ten the next morning.
“Good morning.” She poured her coffee and smiled at Liam playing with the dog. She leaned down and clapped her hands. “Get him, Keats. Go, boy.”
The dog stopped running, angled his head and wagged his tail, then chased after Liam once again. They both fell together on the rug, the boy laughing and rolling with his good-natured pup.
“Best present, ever!” Sarah said, remembering the day Byron had dropped off the dog at the apartment.
“You can say that again. Without Keats, Byron and I might not be together. And then I wouldn’t have another little poet growing inside of me, and Liam wouldn’t know the joy of loving a pet the way he does.” Her smile slipped. “He’s enjoying school and is speaking much better. Don’t you think?”
“Absolutely!” She knew her sister needed to believe there was progress, even though she honestly hadn’t noticed. “You did the right thing by moving here.” Sarah took a swallow of her coffee, loving the first taste in the morning. “Good brew. Starbucks?”
“No. Byron likes this specialty blend from one of our local shops. He buys the coffee beans from them.”
“It’s smooth but has a bold roasted flavor. Not as strong as Starbucks.”
“Glad you’re enjoying it,” Byron said, coming in from the patio. “I was out shoveling snow, while you’ve been snoozing,” he told her with a teasing grin, while shaking his wool cap off in the sink. He removed his gloves and unzipped his coat. “I think I could use another cup of that.”
“Once you take off your boots, and remove your hat and gloves from the kitchen counter, I’ll be happy to pour it for you,” Meghan told him, shooing him away. “What would you like for breakfast? Scrambled eggs? Waffles?”
“Whatever’s easy.” He did as he was told and came back in dry jeans and a long-sleeved Tommy Hilfiger tee. Sarah noticed that he’d brushed his hair too.
“How do you make waffles?” she asked her sister. “I mean, I can do pancakes, no problem, but this sounds impressive.”
“Piece of cake.” Meg pulled a Cuisinart round waffle maker from underneath the counter, and took a package of golden malted waffle mix from the pantry. “I just use the mix and then have a selection of toppings. Syrup, or berries and whipped cream.”
“Sold. Sounds great. Can I help?”
“Go shower and dress and by the time you return I’ll have everything started. This is our favorite Sunday breakfast.”
Sarah nudged Byron’s arm in passing. “You are spoiled.”
He grinned. “And loving it.”
After her shower, she also chose jeans, paired with a Victoria’s Secret t-shirt. The table was set and Liam and Keats were enjoying their first waffle—together. One bite for Liam, one hand-held bite for his best friend.
“Help yourself to another coffee,” Byron told her, “and I’ll bring out the toppings. They just take a few minutes.”
“Keep this up, you guys, and you won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“Worse things could happen,” her sister replied, dropping some batter into the pan as Sarah watched the proceedings.
Sarah desperately hoped that worst things would not happen. How would Meg feel if she ended up with a surprise of her own? It turned her stomach queasy just thinking about it.
“So, what’s on your agenda today?” she asked, pushing her worries aside. The less she thought about it, the less chance it had of happening. Right?
“We haven’t made any plans, have we, hon?” Meg looked at Byron, who shrugged.
“Whatever you girls want is fine by me.”
“I thought I’d get out this morning and explore the town some more.” Sarah brought her fresh cup of coffee to the table. “If you two would like a break this afternoon, I can look after Liam while you take in a movie or do some shopping. Have some alone time together.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Meghan glanced at her cute hubby. “Would you like an afternoon with me?”
“Sure. We could do some ice skating down at the park, have a late lunch somewhere or see a movie. I know there are a few good ones out there.”
“That’s settled then.” Sarah smiled at the couple. “I know I’m freeloading, and I really want to contribute somehow. I’ll enjoy a pleasant afternoon with Liam and Keats. I can take them down to the park—let them run around a little.”
“If you’re sure…” Meghan’s eyes shone with happiness. “It’ll be a treat for us.”
“Of course.”
After pigging out on waffles, whipped cream and berries, Sarah cleaned up and put the dishes away, then pulled on her boots and parka for a brisk walk around the neighborhood. She didn’t have a gym membership, didn’t n
eed one when she was working ER, but if the last two days was an example of living at her sister’s she better get into an exercise program quick—her weight gain would be real, baby or no baby.
Her period was three days late, too early for her to panic. No sense in using the pregnancy test just yet. A few more days…by Wednesday at the latest. It was likely stress that had caused her hormones to get messed up. A very brisk walk might get her body back in rhythm.
“See you guys in an hour!” She pulled a wool cap over her ears and put on fur-lined gloves.
They were both sitting near the fire, reading the Sunday paper, but Meghan lifted her head and waved good-bye.
Sarah walked toward Chelsea Place where Meghan used to live—it was a pretty residential street and she looked for apartment buildings with a vacancy sign. She had her cell phone with her and could take a photo of the listing to call later.
The twenty minute walk was completely enchanting. The streets were pristine, sidewalks well kept, giant fir trees laden with snow. Homes and apartment buildings were decorated for Christmas with garland wreaths on the doors or windows, colorful lights around the window frames showcased a magnificent tree.
She passed children building snowmen on their front lawns, laughing with delight as they rolled the snow to create solid, round balls. Twin girls lay in the pure white snow, creating mirrored images of angels with their long limbs. A family of boys was in a robust snow-throwing contest—their father, who’d been shoveling his driveway, entered in.
It was truly a winter wonderland and reminded her of growing up in Saratoga with her sister and parents. They’d had a loving family. Strange that her mom and dad had never mentioned his time at war. Had he been ashamed of it? Was Meghan right to be worried? It seemed the only plausible answer. Maybe later tonight the two of them could look inside the trunk and uncover the truth. Their dad hadn’t lied, but his silence was not completely honest either.
As she rounded a corner, she came upon a three-story apartment building with a vacancy sign for a one bedroom, which gave her hope. It was the first week in December and she might be able to move in the beginning of January, or at least by mid-month—if the rent was agreeable, of course.
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