Dating A Saint (30 page)

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Authors: Donna McDonald

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BOOK: Dating A Saint
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“Trysts?” Lauren chirped, her voice breaking. “What trysts? No one uses that word anymore. I wasn’t using the club for anything except the work I did for them, work I did for free all those years. I don’t get it. They black-listed me from renting the facility because of what they
think
I did with Jim?”

Lydia lifted a hand in a gesture of helplessness. “If you stop seeing him now, I’m sure this will all blow over in a year.”

Lauren leaned back in her chair while her mind raced. No wonder Sydney’s request had been refused in the middle of one of the emptiest months of the year. It appeared the notorious Lauren McCarthy was not getting any more favors from the organization she’d served for years and years.

It was both enlightening and sad to Lauren to know all her good deeds hadn’t kept her sainthood in place, hadn’t meant enough for people who knew her to assume the best about her, regardless of how things looked. She had raised thousands of dollars for their causes, made the country club and its members look sterling in the community.

Their betrayal of her hit deep.

“Mother, I was dating other men when Jim came by to ask about me at the club. I saw him the night of the fundraiser thank you dinner, and still I wasn’t involved with him then either. We sat and talked for about twenty minutes. The man didn’t touch me in public. I don’t get what could possibly be concluded by our doing nothing more than talking to each other. You’re on the board, Mother. Did you speak up to defend me? Did anyone?” Lauren demanded.

“Jane Meniski tried to speak on your behalf, saying the situation was not what it seemed. She’s a very prominent board member, but everyone knows she was living with her husband for almost two years before his divorce was final,” Lydia said, dismissing it with a wave. “She’s hardly in a position to defend anyone’s morality.”

“Barrett’s ex-wife refused to sign the property settlement. That was not Jane’s fault,” Lauren said, closing her eyes against what was becoming all too clear to her. “I don’t think they did anything wrong.”

All the years she’d spent being discreet, not dating—none of it had mattered. People only saw the bad, the scandalous, and whatever was easiest to judge. Jane had defended her. God bless the woman. Lauren would have to thank her sometime.

“So if you didn’t defend me, what
did
you say about the situation, Mother? You’re on the board. I’m sure they asked your opinion,” Lauren challenged. “Did you tell them I was a wonderful woman? Remind them that I helped raise money for all the causes that made their sanctimonious asses look so good to the rest of Falls Church?”

“I told them you were just going through a bad phase and that it would pass soon,” Lydia said softly. “I’m sure it will when your life is back to normal.”

Lauren stood up just as the waiter set steaming plates of pasta on the table. She looked at her mother, the woman whose loyalty had never been for her. As hungry as she was, there was no way to get food past the bitterness in her stomach. Her mother didn’t like her, didn’t respect her, and hadn’t spoken up for her. The only person who defended her had been a woman she barely knew.

“I’m leaving because I can’t talk to you anymore right now. It hurts me that you didn’t defend me,” Lauren said angrily, yanking her purse onto her arm, sighing when the contents spilled down into the floor.

“Great. Just fucking great,” Lauren complained, dropping to the floor to gather up her things.


Lauren, watch your vile language.
This is not that kind of restaurant. You’re just embarrassed and overreacting,” Lydia bent to retrieve the items that had rolled under her chair, whispering beside the table. “What did you imagine people would think? You’re out with those two awful women all the time, and then you start chasing a married man.”

“If you could be trusted, Mother, Jim would tell you truth about the situation with his wife. But if you trusted and loved me, you’d accept on my word alone that the situation between me and Jim is the best thing I’ve ever had and is exactly what I want. You’re my mother, for God’s sake. You should love and support me, no matter what you think—but you’re more worried about the opinions of strangers.”

Too angry to say anything more, Lauren stood and held out her purse for the items in Lydia’s hands. They both saw the white stick at the same time.

For a moment, Lauren almost laughed at the statistical impossibility of that item ending up in her mother’s hands. She thought about what Alexa had said and tried to see the positive in the situation—or at least the hysterically funny side of it.


Fertility testing?
Why are doing fertility testing?” Lydia demanded, even as her daughter snatched the item from her hand and tossed it into the bag.

“It’s
not
a fertility test,” Lauren said, glaring.

“There’s no need to lie about it. I saw what it said on the stick. Are you trying to get pregnant? Trying to trap James Gallagher into marrying you? Do you think having his child is going to make him divorce his wife and marry you?” Lydia asked, her voice a quivering shriek. How could her daughter have sunk to such a low point?

Lauren ignored her mother’s insinuations, her brain fixating on something else she’d said. Something was written on the stick? Why hadn’t she noticed? Pulling it back out of her purse, she held it up to the overhead lights, distantly acknowledging the laughing and giggling of the other diners who couldn’t have avoided overhearing the heated conversation.

Hell, they deserved a good laugh for having to tolerate Lydia’s bitching. Later, she was going to have a good laugh herself, then she would probably cry and want to beat someone up. This was her true nature, she had learned. She was both sinner and saint, and that was fine with her.

“Well, shit,” Lauren said succinctly, finding and reading the words
ovulation test
in raised white letters on the completely white stick. You would think they would make the letters black so a person would easily see them, she thought. So all week she’d been thinking she was negative on a pregnancy test, when she was negative on an ovulation test. Did that mean she couldn’t have a baby?

“Lauren, please don’t get pregnant. You’ll be raising the child all alone, and at your age—darling, I’m begging you. Remember the good woman you were before that man walked into your life,” Lydia implored, her eyes tearing at the thought of Lauren pregnant and alone. She couldn’t bear what people would say about her daughter or her.

“I remember exactly what my life was like before Jim. I lived mostly to please other people, instead of myself. There were very few people who ever wanted more for me, very few people who loved me enough to push and shove until I went after what I wanted—which was James Gallagher. Now I have Jim in my life, and I’m not letting him go,” Lauren said, tossing the ovulation test stick in the middle of the table between the steaming plates of pasta.

“Lauren, even if the man is good to you in bed, it doesn’t mean you have to change your entire life because you’re sleeping with him,” Lydia protested. “You can be discreet about the situation.”

“I love the man, Mother. You’re not even hearing me, but that’s nothing new, is it? I’m finally starting to get it. And I’ll tell you something else I learned today,
Lydia
,” Lauren said, enjoying her mother’s hiss. “Giving birth to me obviously did not make you my mother. If I ever have a child, I hope I do a much better job of loving and supporting her. It’s going to be a long damn time before I forget you didn’t defend me to the country club board.”

Lauren turned and walked out of the restaurant.

She should have been in shock from the fight with her mother, but that had actually felt pretty good. She should probably be sad because the country club people had only pretended to like her, but it was just hard to work up the energy to be righteously upset. She would miss the charity work though. It had given her a sense of satisfaction. Maybe growing her own business would fill her time in a different way.

No, what Lauren was most worried about as she left was that she’d been taking ovulation tests instead of pregnancy tests. The party was just one more day away. She needed to stop on the way home and get another test—a real pregnancy test this time.

And she would be sure to read the whole box and all the literature with it before she did anything with the contents.

*** *** ***

Later that evening at Jim’s house, while he was working in his study, Lauren kept sneaking to the bathroom at the far end of the five-thousand-square-foot layout to check the pregnancy test stick for progress. When an hour had passed, and it still showed no plus or minus symbol, she pronounced the test a failure, rolled it in toilet paper and carried it to the kitchen trash to toss it out so it wouldn’t be found.

She had either done something wrong or she had gotten a defective test.
Damn it
, Lauren thought. Now she was going to have to sneak another test home tomorrow and find some time to take it before the party started. She really couldn’t put off finding out any longer. She was a month late missing her period now, which meant she could be two months along in a pregnancy, or it could mean she was in early menopause like Regina. At forty-two, life could be surprising in lots of ways, but it wasn’t fair of her to keep gambling with fate without Jim’s knowledge.

Whatever the result of the test—even if it failed again, Saturday she would talk to Jim about what she was doing. It was nerve-wracking trying to keep it from him.

Hindsight was always twenty-twenty, but there was no excuse for walking around with blinders on and tripping over every obstacle in your path.

Chapter 21

A soft knock on the office door at Whispering Pines had Jim’s head springing up from his laptop. There had been no getting around the work he’d had to address today, so he’d brought it along to Whispering Pines with him.

Casey and Ben were almost finished with installation. This afternoon they would run one simulation, and then they would all head home for the party. Next week they would come back to finish testing and remove the old system. It was all working out much better than Jim could have anticipated.

“Hector, how are you?” Jim asked with smile. “Come in and give me an excuse to take a break.”

Hector laughed and walked just inside the doorway. “I can’t stay, but I’ve brought someone I’d like you to meet. This is my aunt, Helen Williams. I have asked her to visit with you, but it is our agreement I will not stay to listen—something about culpability if I know too much. She is the angel in my life, much like Lauren is in yours.”

An attractive woman in her late fifties or early sixties stepped into the doorway with Hector. She was dressed in an expensive business suit and wearing her natural gray hair color as a complement. There was something about her stance and her look that had Jim paying closer attention than he might normally have, even more so when Hector kissed her cheek and she hugged him in return. Hector pushed her gently into the office and closed the door quietly as he left.

The woman walked over to his desk. Jim started to stand, but she waved him back and dropped into a chair to face him.

Jim smiled, closed his laptop, and laced his fingers together in front of him.

“So you’re Hector’s aunt?” he asked, unsure of what else to say.

She nodded. “Yes. Hector is not my blood nephew, but he is the child of my heart. When my brother Steven married Rosa, Hector was ten. My cat had been hit by a car. Hector built a kitty leg splint which allowed the cat to walk while it healed, but for the most part he carried the cat from place to place. His heart is every bit as good as any person I have ever met. I love that boy as much as my brother’s natural children. When I have to deal with the uglier parts of my work, I think of Hector and his sweet family. They give me faith when my work takes it away.”

“What is your work?” Jim asked.

“Short answer—I’m a district court judge. That’s not why I’m here though. I’m here because I am also an attorney and have limited my practice to family law, which I mostly handle for friends and family,” she told him.

Jim studied the woman and tilted his head. “Forgive my confusion, but I feel like I missed a whole conversation somewhere.”

Helen Williams laughed. “As part of my family, Hector told me he was praying for a miracle to help you with your situation. He only confided the details of it to me because he knew I would try to help him if I could.”

Jim rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m sorry if you think I’ve asked Hector to do something unethical or compromising. I’ve truly made no requests of him except that he help me take care of Sam—I mean, his biological father.”

“Yes, I’ve met Sam,” Helen told him. “I can see the same gentle kindness in the man that’s in his son.”

“Despite his challenges, Sam is a very good man,” Jim said. “There are a lot worse fathers in the world.”

“Indeed there are,” Helen said. “I see them every week in my courtroom.”

“Why do I feel more and more nervous as we sit here chatting? Is there something you want to ask or need to say?” Jim asked, feeling a need to push the woman to just say what was on her mind.

“Hector tells me you take care of Sam, Sandy, and Sandy’s parents. They’ve lived here in Maryland for over five years?” she asked.

“Yes,” Jim verified. “It’s probably closer to six now.”

“Great,” she said. “And you’ve provided for them financially all this time?”

Jim nodded. “Is this going somewhere?”

“Indulge my curiosity, Mr. Gallagher,” she said firmly. “Are Sandy’s parents mostly of sound mind and body?”

“They’re in their seventies, but yes—they seem to be sharp for people their age. Is there some sort of reason you’re interested in Sandy’s parents?” Jim asked.

Helen shook her head and crossed her arms. “Research. I’m planning to represent them in their adoption proceeding. I’ll be interviewing you in depth about your involvement later.”

“Adoption? Who are they adopting?” Jim asked, his face scrunched in confusion, his eyebrows practically disappearing into the deep lines of his forehead.

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