Once Around (31 page)

Molly stared at her as if she were speaking in tongues
, but Jessy didn't care. It felt so good to say it finally, to let the terrible secret out into the light.

"
I'm pregnant," she said again, beginning to laugh. "Can you imagine that? I spend half my life lecturing young girls about taking responsibility, and look what happened to me." Her voice shook on the last word, but she refused to cry.

Molly said nothing. She looked straight ahead as she
made the turn onto Lilac Hill Road then pulled into her driveway.

"
It's Spencer's, isn't it?" she said when they were alone in the house.

"
Yes, it's Spencer's." She wasn't going to deny it.

Truth was
, she wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

"
Does he know?"

She nodded.
"I told him last week."

"
The day I interrupted the two of you?"

She nodded again.
"It wasn't our finest hour."

"
He didn't take it very well?"

"
He wants to marry me."

Molly sank onto the arm of the living room sofa.

"Say that again."

"
He wants to marry me."

"
And what did you tell him?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep from
breaking apart. "I told him to go to hell."

"
I thought you loved him."

"
I do," she said. "But it's just not enough anymore."

Life had played a nasty little trick on her
, and she didn't mean the pregnancy. She'd told herself she could be. content with whatever little bit of him life threw her way, but she'd been wrong. She wanted everything. She didn't just want his body, she wanted his heart. She didn't want a wedding ring, she wanted a marriage.

She didn
't just want a baby, she wanted a family.

She might as well wish. for the stars
, because she had a better chance of dancing on the rings of Saturn than finding any of those things with Spencer.

Chapter Eighteen

"
I know what you're doing," Miriam Cantwell said to Rafe one morning a few weeks after she returned to New Jersey. "You're keeping her away from me."

"
You're delusional," Rafe said as he repaired the window frame nearest to her bed. "I think the cold weather's rattling your brain."

"
You have no respect for age," she said in the tart tone of voice that put fear in the hearts of hired help from one side of the state to the other. "Just wait until your old bones are feeling the cold. Then you'll know."

"
There's nothing wrong with you that getting out of that bed wouldn't cure," Rafe said as he pried away a chunk of dried paint. "You're getting soft."

"
I'm old," Miriam said. "I'm entitled."

"
I don't want to hear it," Rafe said. "I've never known you to be a quitter."

"
You've never known me to be dying before," Miriam shot back.

"
You're not dying," he said as he pounded a nail into the right side of the window frame. "I didn't hear the doctor say anything about dying."

"
He said it, son. You just didn't want to hear it."

She was right. He didn
't want to hear it. His life was perfect, or damn close to it. He wouldn't allow Miriam to die. It wasn't part of his plan.

"
I suppose now you'll tell me you're not getting paranoid on me," he said, reaching for a chisel. "That stuff about keeping Molly away from you is a boatload of crap."

"
I'm merely making an observation."

"
You go to sleep earlier these days, Miriam. Your schedule doesn't cross with Molly's."

"
I wasn't born yesterday," Miriam said.

He grinned at her.
"That's for damn sure."

"
I worry about you," Miriam said. "Here I spend my time praying you'll find someone to love, and you go and take up with a pregnant married woman "

"
She's getting a divorce," Rafe said.

"
She's still pregnant."

"
I know," he said, "and it's not a problem." He found himself awed by the miracle happening inside Molly's beautiful body. He felt privileged that she allowed him to be a small part of it.

And he
'd be lying if he said there weren't times when he wished they both belonged to him.

"
She's going to hurt you," Miriam said in her most upper crust tone of voice. "You mark my words, it isn't over with her husband yet."

"
It's over," Rafe said, reaching for a screwdriver. "He's in love with someone else."

"
And what about your Molly?" Miriam asked. "Who does she love?"

"
That's none of your business," he said.

"
Are you afraid of the answer, son?"

A man
's voice rumbled up from the floorboards. Rafe had never been more grateful for an interruption. They'd crossed over into dangerous territory, a place he'd been avoiding from the day he met Molly.

"
Dr. Van Lieuw is here," Miriam said.

"
Nothing wrong with your ears," Rafe said, forcing himself to shift gears. "I'm telling you, you're healthier than I am."

"
If I am, then you'd better write your will."

Rafe was still chuckling when he stepped out into the hallway to give Miriam and the doctor some privacy. Miriam had been born to money and privilege. She
'd never known what it was like to wonder where her next meal was coming from. The Cantwells were one of New Jersey's founding families, with a proud history as long as his arm. Rafe had spent enough time working in rich people's houses to know how isolating wealth and lineage could be. It was a testament to Miriam's expansive heart that she'd never let her background separate her from the rest of the human race.

He was checking the sash on one of the hallway windows when Dr. Van Lieuw left her room.

"She's doing great, isn't she?" Rafe asked as the doctor approached him. "I mean, look at her. She's awake, alert, eating well,"

Van Lieuw didn
't rise to the bait. "Nothing has changed, Rafe. Her heart is very weak. I don't know what's keeping her with us."

Rafe did. Miriam wasn
't ready to go yet. He'd seen the endless stream of lawyers corning and going as she took care of the details that surrounded the end of a woman's life. One of those esteemed attorneys had pointed out to Miriam that she could have accomplished the same thing from her comfortable house in sunny Florida, but she was determined to die at home, in the place where she'd been born. She spent endless hours on the telephone, calling old friends and relatives, having her say; getting things off her chest, reassuring them that they'd be well taken care of after she was gone. She'd have him married off to a vestal virgin, if she had her way.

He hated the whole goddamn thing. He hated the fact that Miriam was right. He had been keeping the two women in his life apart. Molly was his future. Miriam knew all the secrets of his past. If he brought them together
, he was afraid he might lose them both.

#

The November rains showed up right on schedule. It seemed to Molly that she hadn't seen the sun in weeks.

"
I don't like you making the drive home in this weather," Rafe said one Monday morning as he walked her outside to her Jeep. "Why don't you stay?"

"
You know why," she said, rising up on tiptoe to kiss him. "I'd never get my work done if I stayed here." She'd climb up into that feather bed and never climb back down.

He said he understood
, but she wasn't entirely convinced. She wasn't sure she understood the dynamics herself, and they were her dynamics. She felt as if she and Rafe existed someplace apart from the real world: a place where Robert and the progress of her divorce meant nothing to her, where her big beautiful house on

Lilac Hill was only an assemblage of wood and stone and plasterboard
, and where they'd elected a governor last week, and she hadn't even realized it was Election Day.

They kissed good-bye three times
, and each time she promised she would drive carefully.

"
I'm going to drive you from now on," he said as she started the engine.

"
We'll talk about it."

"
In the car," he said, "when I'm driving you back here."

She smiled all the way home. She was still smiling as she replayed the string of messages on her answering machine. One
, in particular, caught her interest, and she returned the call immediately.

"
This is Molly Chamberlain, Annie," she said to Spencer's assistant "I'm returning Mr. Mackenzie's call."

"
Good morning, Mrs. Chamberlain," Annie said. "Would you be available for a two o'clock meeting today with Mr. Mackenzie?"

In the past Spencer had made these phone calls himself. Molly felt mildly put out as she agreed to the time. Nothing had been the same since the night of the dinner-dance. The casual phone calls had stopped. No more chats about mutual friends and acquaintances. She wasn
't sure if he avoided her in order to avoid Jessy or if he realized she was involved with Rafe. Either way, she missed their conversations:

Spencer ushered her into his office at the stroke of two.

"Thanks for coming by on such short notice, Molly."

He looked vaguely uncomfortable
, and she noticed he had difficulty meeting her eyes.

Molly took her usual seat and crossed her legs. Another few weeks
, and that simple gesture would be a thing of the past. "So what's this about?"

He winced.
"You know, don't you?"

"
That you and Jessy slept together or that she's pregnant?"

He let out a long
, slow breath. "I asked her to marry me."

"
She told me that, too."

"
Then you know what her answer was."

"
She's not a fool, Spencer. She knows you don't love her."

"
She told you that?"

"
She didn't have to. I saw her face."

Spencer dragged a hand through his perfectly barbered hair.
"I wasn't cruel to her, Molly. That's what you're thinking, isn't it?"

"
You have no idea what I'm thinking, Spencer."

"
I don't want to hurt her."

"
And I don't want to hear this," she said. "It's between you and Jessy." She stood up. "If this is all you wanted—"

"
Sit down," he said.

She arched a brow.
"Excuse me?"

"
Please sit down," he amended. "This is business."

She didn
't like his tone of voice, not one bit. "Let me guess," she said, sitting back down. "Robert's changed his mind about the divorce. He loves me madly and wants me back."

"
You're half right."

"
What?" Her fingers curved around the arms of the chair.

"
He doesn't want you back, but he does want the divorce."

"
That's not exactly news, Spencer."

"
He wants it now
,"
Spencer said, fiddling with a Montblanc fountain pen. The shiny golden nib twinkled in the lamplight.

"
Now?" She sounded like a pregnant parrot.

"
As in right
now
."

"
I'm not the one who's been incommunicado," she said, hearing her voice rise in distress. "Robert's the one who's been delaying things."

"
Not anymore," Spencer said, watching her closely. "He suggested that the two of you fly down to Santo Domingo and get it over with in a weekend."

Her heart was pounding so fast that it frightened her.
"Are you talking about one of those quickie divorces?"

"
That's what I'm talking about." He leaned forward and gave her one of those serious-young-attorney looks that Robert had been born wearing. "He wants out right now, Molly, and he's willing to pay for the privilege."