Drawing Blood (27 page)

David’s car was parked, shiny and new, next to the curb. He opened her door for her and she held the rolls on her lap as they made their way to the air force base. They were buzzed through the gates and David maneuvered the car in to a driveway on a street of houses that all looked the same. Before opening his door he smiled across at her again. “Are you ready?”

“How do I look?”

“You always look great, Abby. Let’s go.”

Emily greeted them at the door, her eyes twinkling with some kind of mischief. “Thanks so much for picking her up, Dave. I appreciate it. Isn’t he a gentleman?”

Abigail had to smile, and David caught it, laughing himself. Emily looked from one to the other as Abigail handed her the rolls. “What? What did I miss?”

“We already know each other,” David said, popping Emily’s balloon slightly.

Emily frowned. “How?”

“I stitched up a leg wound that David suffered about two kilometres from my house when he was serving in France.” Tom helped her out of her jacket as she filled Emily in.

Emily looked at her sharply. “Wait … is … is he  ..?”

“No, he’s not Archie’s father.”

David kept quiet about Elliot, which she appreciated. She didn’t appreciate him adding on, “It wasn’t from lack of trying, though.”

Abigail blushed and Emily and Tom laughed at the joke as they hustled them through the entryway in to the living room. The house still smelled of paint and wood stain, but it was fresh and new and everything was in perfect condition.

Tom invited them to sit since supper wasn’t quite ready yet, and he got them each a drink for the wait. David settled on the sofa next to her to visit, and Abigail found herself thinking: This is what people do. They have friends over for drinks and supper all the time.

David and Tom shared a joke as he served them their cocktails, and David slung his arm across the back of the sofa. Not really over her shoulders, but she liked the way it felt nonetheless. That’s when she realized she’d been smiling since they walked through the door.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Elliot

“If it’s a boy I want to name it Elliot.”

He frowned at his wife. “Why? It’s a terrible name. I hated it as a kid. Why would we subject our first born to a name this awful?”

She was giggling as she lowered the list of names she’d amassed. “I love your name. You know that.”

He lowered his face to the side of her neck as he said, “Is that way you always call it out so loud?” Then he started smacking loud kisses on her neck which he knew tickled her.

“Stop it!” she squealed.

He sat back up, feet out on the ottoman. She was under his arm, her back leaning in to his side, legs stretched out on the sofa in front of her. She had to keep her legs elevated, she said, otherwise her socks didn’t even fit anymore.

“What’s your second choice?”

“Well, there’s my dad’s name.”

“Carl’s a good name.”

“You don’t think it’s a bit boring?”

“Elliot’s boring; Carl sounds dependable. Distinguished.”

“Where were you raised that Carl is a distinguished name?”

Elliot waved a hand. “Next.”

She sighed but went back to her list. “I like your dad’s name, too.”

“Michael?”

“Yeah.” She shrugged. “Biblical. Michael is a distinguished name.”

“I’ve always liked Matthew.”

“That’s my number five choice!”

“What if it’s a girl?”

She flipped the paper over. “My number one choice is Caroline.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“For a pretty baby.”

“Only if she looks like you.”

“You are so full of it.”

The doorbell brought them out of their Saturday morning relaxation. Janet sat up a bit so he could go get the door, and she flopped back down on to her back. “It’s so warm right here.”

“Keep it that way for me.”

She was giggling as he opened the door, and he was surprised to see Cleary up and out so early. “Dave? What’s going on?”

The guy didn’t look like he was there for a pleasure visit. “I need to talk to you.”

“Sure—come on in.”

“Maybe we should talk out here first.”

Elliot was in pajamas, a robe and slippers. The look on Cleary’s face made him step out on to the front stoop and shut the door anyway. “What’s wrong?”

Cleary shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is hard. Holy shit … I don’t know how to say this.”

“Just say it, Dave. You’re likely making it worse right now.”

He sighed, then just let it all tumble out. “Abigail’s in town. I saw her just last night. My friend Tom is married to her sister-in-law. How’s that for a small world?”

Elliot’s world swam for a second. He shook his head. “What?”

“Abigail’s here, as in, living here. She just moved here.”

He was likely gawking like a goldfish. “What?”

“You said that already.”

“Holy shit.”

“That’s not the worst of it.”

His light-headedness increased. “What?”

“This is the hard part.”

“I don’t think I want to hear it.”

“You have to.” He sighed again, sitting on the steps. “She doesn’t want me to tell you this but I have to.”

Elliot sat next to him, since the next thing out of Cleary’s mouth was likely going to be,
You might want to sit down for this
. “Let me have it. You’re scaring the shit out of me but let me have it.”

He waited so long that Elliot wanted to shake him by the neck but eventually he came out with it. “She had a kid. There’s a boy about two years old living with her. And I’m sorry to tell you this, but he is the spitting image of you.”

Elliot let that sink in. “Looks just like me?”

“Yes.”

He covered his face with his hands. He saw his future flash before his eyes. Janet throwing him out. A son hating him for never being around when he was growing up. Him, dying alone. “Ahhh … fuck.” He shot to his feet, pacing.

“That basically sums it up. She didn’t want you to know at all, she doesn’t want you to feel obligated to help.”

“I am obligated to help. That’s my kid, goddamnit.”

“I know that. And she knew you’d feel that way too. She wanted to protect you and Janet from … any drama, I guess.”

This whole time he’d been preparing to be a father he actually was one without knowing it. He thought of Janet and her backaches and swollen ankles and how scared she was of labour even though she tried to assure him she was going to be fine …

Abigail had done all of that on her own?

“Where’s her husband?”

David sighed. “That’s another horror show.”

“Really?”

“He’s dead. He didn’t come home after the war. He was squatting in some fucking opium den in Paris for almost two years, not getting in touch with her or anything.” David was clearly upset about all this. “So her sister sends my friend, Tom, to go get him. They drag him to her house, the first night he’s there he caps himself.” David made his hand a pistol and mimed shooting his temple.

“She’s been alone the whole time.”

David shrugged. “She said her neighbours were a lot of help. But after that suicide she really didn’t want to live there anymore.”

“Poor Abigail.”

David just nodded.

“Fuck … David, what am I going to do?”

“I tried to take that bullet for you. She turned me down.” It was a lame joke but Elliot appreciated the attempt.

“I have no idea what Janet’s going to do.”

David spread his hands. “It’s incredible she forgave you in the first place. This is … an extension on that initial fuck up, really.”

“I was sure she was going to divorce me.”

David was quiet. “Well … it’s not the kid’s fault.”

“I know that.” He sat back down. “It took over a year for us to get pregnant. With someone not my wife … two tries and it’s good?”

He was making David uncomfortable; that was likely more information than he wanted.

This could really ruin everything. I might have completely wrecked my marriage after all.

“I’m going to go in and … tell Janet. I guess.”

“She’s staying at the Acorn Arms, on the boulevard. She’s apartment 302, if you end up wanting to go see her. And the boy.” He paused then added, “He’s cute, for what it’s worth. He’s got red hair. That’s how I knew he was yours.”

Elliot gave a very dry laugh. “Poor kid.”

David was polite enough to laugh, too. Then he stood, brushing off the seat of his pants. “You want me to stay? You might need somewhere to squat for a while.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t making a joke. If you need somewhere to stay, I got a room. You were there for me.”

Elliot nodded. “Thanks, David. I’m glad you told me.”

“Sorry I had to let you know.” He started towards his car, got a couple steps, then turned back. “She’s fine, by the way.”

Elliot looked up at his friend. “Abigail?”

“Yeah. She’s doing well. She’s still beautiful.”

Elliot watched him get in his car and drive off. He felt like shit. He hadn’t asked if she was okay, did he? He’d thought first of himself.

Elliot should never have touched her. Had he not, this coincidental reunion could have had a lovely, happy ending for David. His friend was in love with her, which was still a surprise to him. Elliot had no idea David had still been carrying an actual torch for her. He’d missed any signs there might have been.

Elliot had wrecked a lot of potential “happily ever afters.” Standing on this side of the mistake left you with a lot more clarity. But at that time there was only the
right now
.

Elliot opened the front door and stepped back inside, his guts twisted up in knots. Janet was sitting up now, hand on her stomach, smiling at him as he came in the room.

“Who was it?”

“David. Is something wrong?”

She waved him over and held out her hand. He crossed the room to her and took her upturned palm. She pressed his hand flat to the side of her belly. “Can you feel that?”

It was like a fluttering under his hand, coming from inside. He froze, stock-still.

“He’s kicking," she said breathlessly.

“Is she?” It was a joke they shared. Whenever she assigned a gender to the baby he took the other one. He felt the pressure and got to his knees next to her to feel it for as long as it lasted. “Have you been eating spicy food or what?”

She giggled and he momentarily couldn’t feel it. Then she stilled again, looking at nothing while their son or daughter had a hissy fit under their touching hands. When the show was over, Janet pulled him back to the sofa next to her. “What did David want this early?”

“He … he had some troubling news.”

“Oh no. Is everything okay?” Her concern for his friend made him feel even worse.

“He’s fine. But last night he found out that … somehow …”

She was frowning now. “The longer you take to tell me the more scared I’m getting, Elliot.” She was a hell of a lot tougher than him.

“The woman from France has moved here.”

She looked away and froze, jaw dropping. “What?”

“David’s friend is married to her sister-in-law and they were both invited over for supper last night. She’s here. But he said she’s not sure how long she’ll stay.”

Janet put both her hands to her stomach for lack of a better place to clasp them together.  “Is … is that all?”

He was an open book to her. “She … she has a boy with her. And it would appear that …” he was going to throw up.

Janet turned her leaf-coloured eyes to him. “A son?”

“Yeah.”

“Yours?” He just nodded, swallowing hard. She looked down at her stomach, running her hands over it. “But David didn’t know for sure.”

“He says the boy … looks a lot like me. Red hair. And he’s the right age.”

She got to her feet, hard to do because she was so front-heavy, and when he tried to help her she waved him off. That stung, but he deserved worse.

She shut the bedroom door behind her. Elliot waited, not sure what he should do. He should go to her and comfort her, even if that meant letting her hit or scream at him, or both. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to see her face.

When she came out of the bedroom she was dressed. Her eyes were red from crying, but she’d stopped. “Did David tell you where she lived?”

“Yes.”

“Then let’s go see her.”

“Janet -”

“No, I don’t think you’re going to win any arguments with me for a long time. Get dressed.”

Chapter Forty-Eight

David

He’d dozed off on the sofa after visiting Elliot’s. He hadn’t slept much the night before. His stomach was churning all night, keeping him up. He had to tell Elliot about the kid, and then once he’d come home he slept with no problem.

David’s phone rang, jarring him awake. He drowsily hobbled to the phone, his leg stiff from sleep. It rang about six times before he got there.

“Hello?”

“David?” He was back awake with the one word.

“Abby?”

“Elliot’s here. Why is Elliot here?”

He sighed. “I’m sorry. I had to tell him. I couldn’t sleep …”

Her voice was understanding. “I’m not mad, David. I just … I don’t think I want to be here alone with them.”

“Them?”

“Elliot and his wife.”

“They’re both there?”

“They just got here. I saw them out the window.” She took a breath and he suspected she was crying. “David, she’s so pretty.”

“Janet? I guess so. She’s Murphy’s wife. I try not to notice.” That made her chuckle, at least. “If you want me to come over, I will.”

“I … don’t want to feel outnumbered. Archie was sick when I got him last night, I was up with him … I haven’t even been to sleep yet.”

“Shit, I’m sorry Abby. This is my fault.”

“You know it’s not, David. Telling him about Archie isn’t where everything went wrong.”

“I’m on my way.”

He made for his car in sleep-rumbled clothes, and drove to the apartment block in a half-daze. This was like watching a movie of someone’s sad story that he was being pulled in to. At the complex he saw that Janet was staying outside, which was likely a good idea. At least to start with. He approached her at the picnic table she was sitting at, studying her feet, assuming she could see them. He wasn’t sure.

He sat down next to her. She knew he was there but she waited a minute before saying what was on her mind. “Is she pretty?”

Something in her tone told him she would cause him physical pain if he played dumb and said something like
Who?
So he cleared his throat. There was no easy answer, was there? “In my opinion … she’s beautiful.”

Her jaw clenched. “Elliot said you … liked her, too. Is that right?”

“Yeah. I did. I do. It’s kind of pathetic but … all this time I’ve been thinking about her.”

“I love my husband but … why do you think she chose him?”

His original theory still felt right, so he told her. “I think they were just missing … having a spouse around. She recognized him as a husband and he saw … a wife. They both could have been dead the next day.”

Janet finally looked at him. “And you said … she’s beautiful?”

David put his arm around her as she started crying again. “I don’t know what to say to make you believe this, but … no one turned his head. I mean, women liked him. He never did anything. Yeah, something happened while we were stuck at that house. If we’d been passing through nothing would have happened. But I can tell you this … he loves you. He loves you so much. What the two of you have … it’s exactly what I want. And Abby … she didn’t come here to hold him accountable for what he did. This is an insane coincidence.”

She sniffled. “Tell me what you know about her.”

He didn’t hesitate. He told her all he knew of Abby, from her marriage to what happened to her during the occupation from the death of her parents to her having to kill that German captain to save Elliot, all the way up to what Tom had told him about her husband killing himself.

Janet cursed softly when he was done, and it was the first time he’d heard her say a word like that. She wiped the drying tears off her face. “I didn’t want to feel sorry for her. I didn’t want to … be grateful she saved Elliot’s life. And yours.” She let out a shuddering sigh. “I’m such a bloody hypocrite.”

David frowned at that, but he let her fight through her troubles.

“Did … did Elliot tell you about our neighbour?”

David shook his head. “Who?”

“Hank Talbot. Our next door neighbour. Elliot had been gone for about four years. He and his wife came over for supper and he offered to put up some shelves. They brought wine but she didn’t have any, she was pregnant. She left while he was working. He … made a pass at me. And … damn red wine always does me in. I let him kiss me.”

David gave her shoulders a squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me this.”

“I know. I want to. But anyway … there was some … touching, nothing more. I came to my senses, told him to stop. And he said …” she choked again and he just waited, a bad feeling starting at the back of his neck and working its way up. “He said that if I didn’t … suck him off, he would tell Elliot we had been at it every night. That we were fucking before he even left for Europe.”

David froze. No, there was no way …

“So I did it. And he never touched me again, he would just give me this … look. Every time I ran in to him and his wife somewhere. I was sick. I threw up right after, David.”

A divine rage came over him. He actually saw red. “I’m going to kill this guy.”

“No … don’t. Please. Don’t say anything.”

“Does Murphy know about this?”

She shook her head, nose and eyes red. “He only knows we kissed, a little bit more. I didn’t tell him the worst part.”

“This guy’s going to get a beating -”

“No, please. You can’t say anything. This is the other half of my guilt, David. How can I … how can I hate him for doing something because he missed me? I did the same thing.”

She collapsed in to tears again. David hugged her tighter. He was almost shaking he was so angry. She had nothing to feel bad about, nothing at all. He hated that she had guilt over something that wasn’t her fault.

“So now you know. I have a secret too. And I hate being mad at him, knowing that I’ve forgiven him. I’m so happy he’s home. I would have never been able to lose him, David. It would … it would kill me.”

“It’d kill him to lose you too, Janet. He’s so happy for this baby, he’s happy that he’s got you in his life. You guys are going to be fine. You just have a few extra stories … like everyone else.”

“Have you seen this boy?”

“Yeah, I saw him last night. He’s … he’s adorable.”

She gave a sad smile. “And I’m going to love him at first sight?”

He laughed. “Probably. He’s just a baby. He had as much control over what happened as you did.”

She nodded and stood up. “Then let’s go inside and meet him.”

David let her lead the way inside, pointing out which way to go when she paused. At the door he was about to knock when she caught his arm. He let her take a couple deep breaths before she knocked.

Abigail answered it. David’s heart sped at the sight of her, but he didn’t like how tired she looked. She reminded him very much of the woman he’d left in France, not the happy mother he’d been surprised to see the night before. She stood staring at Janet, and by reflex Janet covered her stomach with her hands. “I’m Janet,” she said, her voice solid and confident.

Abigail nodded and held out her hand. “I’m Abigail Spencer.”

They shook briefly before Abigail stepped out of the way and motioned for them to enter. David wasn’t sure what he was going to see.

The boy, Archie, was sitting on the floor playing with a wooden truck. Elliot was sitting on a footstool, head propped in his hand, elbow on knee. He was just staring at the kid.

David watched Janet’s face. Her gaze went right to the red-headed toddler, and all the lines of her face softened. She knew he saw it. She looked at him and gave him a small smile.

Elliot looked up at Janet, and David noticed that his eyes were rimmed with tears that hadn’t dropped. Archie was staring up at him, pushing the truck back and forth with one chubby hand.

Janet sat on the sofa next to the stool. She reached out her hand, and Elliot took it blindly. They were both watching the boy, and he was curious about the attention they were giving him.

Abigail stayed close to David, arms wrapped tight around her waist. He whispered softly, “How are you?” She shrugged her answer. Archie gave a hoarse cough; it sounded painful, rattling. “Is he all right?”

“Better than last night, but that cough won’t go away.”

Archie climbed to his feet by hanging on to Elliot’s pant leg. Janet made a sound, covering her mouth. It was obvious she was crying, and that seemed to concern Archie. He toddled to her and held his arms out. He was offering her a hug to make her feel better.

Abigail turned and headed for the kitchen, moving quickly.  David watched Janet hug Archie and laugh as he went back to his truck, work done. Elliot took her hand again and they held eye contact for a long time. Then David followed Abigail.

“You really look like you need sleep,” he observed as she started a kettle boiling.

“Thank you.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong.”

“No, you’re right. I’m exhausted.” On cue, she yawned widely. Like a sap, David found it instantly adorable.

“If you want, I can stay. Look after Archie while you get some sleep.”

She eyed him curiously. He couldn’t blame her. Why in the world would some bachelor volunteer to watch a toddler? He was so transparent. He wanted to be around her. He wanted her to need him.

“It’s fine David. I’m worried that Archie’s colicky, actually. That’s not a lot of fun to be around. Actually, Janet shouldn’t be around him. She might catch something.”

He liked how she was able to throw Janet’s name out there, casually and with genuine concern.

“She must be close to delivering,” Abby noted, putting two tea bags in a pot.

“Just over a month, I think.”

“That last month was so bloody uncomfortable. I was so hungry but if Archie didn’t agree with what I ate I was up all night with heart burn. And the swollen ankles …” she shuddered. “Thank God it’s worth it in the end. The world’s population might dry up.”

“Would you want more?”

“Children?” She shrugged when he nodded. “Perhaps. If I was with someone that really wanted a family with me … yes. I would want more. They’re worth it.”

Elliot came in to the kitchen next, saying he was going to get going, Janet was feeling tired. Abigail nodded, and there was an awkward moment where no one said anything. David meant to leave, but Abigail grabbed his hand.

“Thank you for coming over,” she said evenly. David hated to admit it, but when she looked at Murphy she didn’t have that over-the-moon look she’d had in France. He felt juvenile but there was a triumph in that.

“Do you … do you need anything? I might be able to help you find work or a nanny … or if you need money -”

“No,” her answer was firm. “Really, I’m fine. I’m getting James’ military pension, and there’s still money from the sale of the house. I’m really fine. I don’t need … I didn’t come here to ask for help.”

Murphy nodded, looking like he really wanted to do something to help her. Abby was right: he’d try to do something honourable, to make it all right. There simply wasn’t much he could do.

David followed Abby to the door, and they said goodbye to the Murphys. He stayed. He wanted to be with Abby. “So,” he said stubbornly, crossing the room and picking up Archie. “What do we do with a coughing baby?”