A Place Called Home (44 page)

Gina nodded. “And adoption. He thinks I don’t know what I’m doing, wanting his baby.”

No longer
this
baby, Thea thought.
His
baby. Regina Sommers was in love. “How far along are you?”

“About seven weeks.”

Thea pressed the rim of her mug to her lips, stifling a tiny moan. Seven weeks back was just before Mother’s Day. Mitch had been all over her in his Chevy truck that Sunday. She’d never once considered that he might have been with Gina the day before, or the day before that. Remembering how much she had wanted him, Thea wasn’t convinced that the knowledge would have changed anything.
He
had known. It hadn’t made any difference to him.

Gina dashed a tear from her eye and looked around for a tissue.

“In the bathroom,” Thea said. “I’ll get them for you.”

Gina stopped her. “No, I’ll get them.”

Thea pointed her in the right direction, and Gina slid her chair out and hurried off. It was several minutes before she returned. Her eyelids were puffier than when she left. “Hold still,” Thea said. “Close your eyes.” She plucked a small piece of tissue from Gina’s dark lashes. “That’s better.”

Gina gave her a watery smile.

“Have you told your parents?” asked Thea.

“No. I wanted to wait. I ... I didn’t think he would be happy about it, but I ...”

“What is it you want from him, Gina?”

There was no hesitation. “Marriage.” The word was split by a little hiccup. “I want to marry him.” She mocked herself with a derisive chuckle. “Can you believe it?”

“Actually,” Thea said quietly, “I can.”

That closed Gina’s mouth. She nodded slowly. “I suppose you can.” She crumpled the tissue in her hand. “Will you talk to him, Thea? He thinks there’s too much of an age difference. You know better than anyone how little that matters. You were engaged to Joel.”

“It matters, Gina,” Thea said. “But maybe it shouldn’t.”

“That’s what
I’ve
been saying. He won’t hear me, though. He thinks I don’t know my own mind.”

“And you’re certain you do? This is what you want?”

She nodded to both things and pressed the crumpled tissue to each eye.

“I can’t make him marry you,” Thea told her.

“I know that,” she said wretchedly. “But I thought that if you told him ... that is, he feels so protective toward you ... like there’s some obligation ...”

“Obligation,” Thea repeated. Her voice sounded dull and wounded to her own ears, but when she darted a look toward her guest, Thea realized Gina was too caught up in her own misery to notice. And rightly so. “So you want me to make sure he knows he doesn’t owe me anything, that he doesn’t have to look out for me. Is that it?”

“Yes.” Tears squeezed out from under her lashes even as she tried to blink them back. “I think he loves you, Thea. That’s why ...” Gina couldn’t finish. She sucked in her breath as a shudder vibrated her small frame.

“What if I love him?” Thea asked frankly. “Had you considered that when you came here and asked me to be a go-between? Did you even once think about what my feelings for him might be?”

Gina’s head snapped up. She was so clearly startled by the idea that Thea proposed that there was no way she could say differently now. “But I thought ... I mean, I was so certain that you ...” Her shoulders slumped and she stared at her hands folded on the tabletop. “Oh, God. I’m an idiot. I’m such a fucking idiot.” She pushed her chair away from the table and started to get up.

Thea heard her mother’s voice come out of her mouth, cool and deliberate, and brooking no argument. “Sit down.”

Gina sat.

“Good. You will stay here.” Single syllables, each word carefully enunciated. “And we will talk. And you will choose a course, if not now, then in the morning.”

Gina nodded jerkily.

Thea added some tea to her mug. She relished the warmth as she sipped it. “Do you love him?” It was her own voice this time, gentle but candid.

“Yes.”

“Do you know how he feels about you?”

Gina hesitated. “I thought I did.” She spared an uncertain glance for Thea. “He told me he loved me.”

Thea did not so much as blink. “Is he saying something different now?”

“No. But he hasn’t said it since I told him I was pregnant.”

“Shock.”

“That’s what Mitch said.”

“It’s understandable.”

Gina drew one foot up to the corner of her chair and hugged her knee. “Maybe,” she said, “but I didn’t set out to get pregnant. I would have sworn under oath that I didn’t want children. Not now. I’ve been accepted for an MBA program in the fall. I like working in real estate. I’m learning a lot about properties and investing. I want to do more of everything, not less.” Gina’s tears had dried up but her dark eyes remained brilliant. “I can’t take the pill,” she said. “Or the shots. I didn’t want an IUD. I told him that. I used a diaphragm. Always. He promised me he would use a condom. He
promised.
”

“But sometimes he forgot,” Thea said. She understood all too well how that happened.

Nodding, Gina asked plaintively, “Is that supposed to be my fault?”

“Is he saying it is?”

“No,” she said after a moment. “No, not really.”

“Then there’s no point in assigning blame.”

“He could have had a vasectomy,” Gina said, determined to have another word on the matter.

Thea felt the corners of her mouth lifting, not in amusement at Gina’s situation but in appreciation of her youth.

Gina caught the look. “You think that’s a stupid idea.”

“I think it doesn’t matter now.”

“You’re right,” Gina conceded. “It doesn’t.”

Thea’s eyes slid to the clock in the microwave. “Listen, it’s late. I want you to stay here tonight. There’s a bedroom you can use; the bed’s made up. I think we both need to sleep.”

“I don’t know if I—”

“I promise you I’ll talk to him,” Thea assured her. “I need to think about what I’m going to say and right now I can’t think at all. You’re not exactly clear-headed yourself and you need to be.” She waited for Gina’s assent before she continued. When it was offered with a mixture of reluctance and relief Thea knew she had been right to suggest it. “Now, is there someone I should call to let them know where you are?”

“No. I have my own place. I talked to my mom earlier tonight. She probably hasn’t called again. No one else will worry if I’m not there.”

“You’re sure?” When Gina nodded, Thea went on. “All right. Let me show you where you can sleep. A hot bath might not be a bad idea either.” To further tempt her, she added, “I have a whirlpool tub.”

“Oh yes,” Gina said softly. “Yes.”

Mitch’s insides gave a peculiar lurch when he saw Gina’s SUV. What was she doing at Thea’s at—he glanced at the dashboard—at seven twenty-five in the morning? For that matter, what was she doing at Thea’s at all?

“Oh, God,” he said under his breath. There was no other explanation that fit. “She must have told Thea about the baby.”

Mitch parked behind Gina, switched off the ignition, and sat there for a full minute before he got out of the car. When Thea finally reached him an hour ago, he was so full of apologies and excuses for not being available yesterday that he jumped at the chance to see her—even at this ungodly hour. She had listened patiently while he told her about his spur-of-the-moment decision to go with his parents and the kids, how Case had gotten sick at the park, the back and forth about should they stay or go, the freaking cell phone battery being low, his mother complaining about the heat, the traffic, the crowd, Grant wandering off, Emilie flirting with boys, and—the coup de grâce—the oil light in the minivan coming on between service plazas on the turnpike. They were so beat by the time that was taken care of, they got off the next exit and found a motel after being turned away only three times by
NO
VACANCY
signs. It was late then, he’d told her, he didn’t want to disturb her.

Lame. That was Mitch’s evaluation of his delivery and the content as he reviewed it now. Really lame. The worst part came at the end when he’d taken a breath and flippantly asked, “And how was your day, dear?”

He tried to remember if Thea’s quiet chuckle had been genuine or merely pitying because he had been so pathetic. At least he’d remembered to ask about her presentation at Carver. She wouldn’t tell him how it went, though. That was when she had asked him to meet her at her house. Thea must have known there was about a zero chance that he’d turn the invitation down. She’d reeled him in dangling just a hint of good news and let him make up the part in his own mind about maybe getting laid.

Jeez, he was such a guy. On the other hand, Mitch reasoned, he was sensitive enough to know that the presence of Gina’s SUV didn’t mean that Thea had arranged a threesome.

“Keep that to yourself, Mitch,” he whispered. “You’ll live longer.”

He opened the door and hopped out. Thea stepped out onto her small front porch at the same time. Not only was he expected, but she had been watching for him. Mitch wondered if she had seen him talking to himself.

“Hey!” he said, jogging up the walk. “What’s Gina doing here?” Take the offense, Mitchell. He saw Thea’s welcoming smile falter a little but she held out a hand to him.

“Come inside,” she said. “We need to talk.”

Mitch took a step up but he left his stomach on the sidewalk. Her hand was cold. She was pissed he hadn’t told her about the baby. Mitch had an image of himself dangling on this particular hook for a long time. The metallic taste in his mouth was very real.

Inside the foyer, Thea released Mitch’s hand. “Did you have any trouble finding someone to watch the kids?”

Mitch followed her down the hall to the kitchen. “You kidding? Saturday morning? Amy was thrilled to have her butt dragged out of bed. I owe her big time.”

“Sorry.” Thea’s terse apology didn’t exactly resonate with guilt. She went straight to the coffeemaker. “Have a seat. You want a cup?”

“Yeah.” He noticed the bag of coffee on the counter was the same brand he used at home. She’d picked it up for him. That eased his mind a little. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. “So where’s Gina? That
is
her SUV, isn’t it?”

“It’s hers. She’s still sleeping.”

“Sleeping?”

“She spent the night.” Thea handed him his coffee. “You want toast? Eggs? Cereal?”

“No. Coffee’s fine. I had all that junk food yesterday; I’m still full.”

Thea nodded absently. She turned away and retrieved her cereal bowl from the breakfast bar. She didn’t join Mitch at the table but leaned against the counter instead, palming her bowl in one hand. “You must have only gotten home when I called.”

“About ten minutes earlier. Long enough to put the kids to bed. They were wiped.” He was aware he was frowning. “Is this really what you want to talk about?” he asked. “I can tell you the motel left a lot to be desired. My mother assigned herself to roach patrol and apparently didn’t sleep a wink. She waited until first light, and then she herded us out of there. We got home. You called. End of story.”

Thea blinked. “Are you angry at me?”

“No,” he said, his voice clipped. “Not yet. I’m working up to it.”

She took a bite of cereal, calmly chewed and swallowed. She said, “Let me know when you’re up to a full head of steam. At that point I want you to imagine a pressure ten times greater and then you’ll have some idea how ticked I am at you right now.”

Mitch’s eyes narrowed as they skimmed her set features, then the rest of her. There were pale shadows under her eyes and a fine crease between her brows. The mouth that he had always thought of as generous was markedly thinner. There was very little color in her face. She was wearing an old chenille robe, the frayed belt cinched tightly around her waist and double knotted. She wasn’t coming out of it anytime soon. His gaze dropped to her bare feet. One slender ankle was turned so that she could rub the instep of one foot with the sole of the other. It was an absent, uneasy gesture, and it gave Mitch some hope that she wasn’t quite as angry with him as she would have him believe.

“Look, Thea,” Mitch said with credible calm, “I know how this works and I’m not going to say anything to incriminate myself. You better tell me what you know or what you think you know, and we can go on from there.”

Thea set her bowl down but she didn’t approach the table. The one small advantage she thought she commanded was the high ground. “Gina told me about the baby,” she said after a long moment. “She came here, I suppose, because she didn’t think anyone else was listening to her. She feels as if she’s being blamed for the pregnancy.”

“I didn’t blame her,” Mitch said.

“She didn’t say anyone did. She just feels that way. If you can accept her feeling as fact, then you can understand how real it is for her. She’s confused about a lot of things, but she’s definite about wanting to have this baby inside a marriage.”

Mitch’s cheeks puffed slightly as he exhaled. “Yeah.” He finger raked his hair. “She said that to me, too.”

“And did you tell her she was too young?”

Had he? “I don’t know. I might have said something about the age difference.”

“I think she’s heard a lot of that.”

“It’s a fact,” Mitch said. “More fact than your feeling stuff.”

“Feeling stuff?” Thea bristled. “You weren’t sitting with her last night while she sobbed into her hands. You didn’t watch her go through the motions of getting ready for bed on autopilot. Her heart’s breaking, Mitch. That feeling stuff is as real as it gets.”

Mitch set down his coffee cup and held up his hands, palms out. “All right. It’s real. But so is the age difference. For cryin’ out loud, Thea, when I was seeing her, she didn’t know Don McLean’s “American Pie” from
American Pie
the movie.”

“Well, don’t just sit there!” She pointed upstairs. “She’s in the guest room. Take her out and shoot her.”

Sighing, Mitch slid forward in his chair, stretching his long legs under the table and jamming his hands in his pockets. He shook his bowed head slightly. “Okay, I don’t believe I said that either.” He darted her a sideways glance, his sheepishness not feigned. “You’re not packin’ heat, are you?”