The Friends We Keep (Mischief Bay) (13 page)

He leaned forward and kissed her. Just a light brush of his mouth against hers. Simple. Easy. A little zing whipped through her, starting at her toes and working its way up. When Jairus straightened, she was the tiniest bit out of breath.

“I’m going to call you,” he promised.

“Okay.”

“You’re going to answer.”

She grinned. “I will.”

“We’ll do this again.”

“I’d like that.”

He waited until she got in her car, then waved and walked away. She drove out of the parking lot, then turned toward her house. As she pulled into her driveway, her phone buzzed. She parked, then looked at her phone.

I’m not calling. It’s too soon to call, because that would make me look needy. I’m saying good night. Brad says good night, too, but you probably don’t want to know that.

Nicole laughed, then tapped her phone.
Tell Brad I’m sorry I judged him so harshly.

He understands. He’s a forgiving sort of guy.

Nice to know. I had a good time.

Me, too. Night.

Nicole walked up to the front door. Dating wasn’t so hard, she thought happily. At least not anymore.

* * *

Andrew poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to Gabby. She settled at one end of the big leather sofa in his office. The kids were in bed, the office door closed for privacy. Boomer lay on the ottoman and Jasmine was stretched along the back of the sofa. Andrew took his seat and closed his eyes.

“Hell of a Saturday,” he said.

“I know.” Gabby inhaled the scent of the brandy before taking a sip. Dieting meant trying to avoid liquor, but she thought maybe an exception could be made considering what they’d been through.

“Thomas seems reasonable,” she murmured. “But Lisa’s just awful.”

“She runs the family and she’s going to be difficult.” Andrew took a drink, then leaned back and scratched Jasmine under the ears. “Boyd’s not staying.”

“What do you mean?”

He shifted his gaze to her. “They’re not going to be together long.”

“No way. They’re in love. He defended her to his mother and from what we’ve seen of Lisa, that can’t be easy.”

Andrew raised one shoulder. “Did you see his eyes? He wouldn’t look at her. Or any of us. Sure, what he did has screwed up everything, but he’s a sixteen-year-old kid who got a girl pregnant. He’s a stud.”

Despite everything, Gabby smiled. “I don’t think anyone says stud anymore.”

“Then whatever the word is. He’s the man. I know he said all the right stuff, but he’s not long for the relationship. Makayla’s going to be crushed.”

Gabby knew there would be pain, but she had to admit that in the scheme of things, losing the boyfriend would be the least of it. At the end of the day, there would still be a baby to deal with.

“We’ll know more in a couple of weeks—at least when it comes to Boyd,” Andrew said. “But in the meantime...”

Gabby nodded. “A thousand things to deal with.”

“I’m going to have to tell Candace when she gets back from her trip.”

“Assuming she will make time for the call.” She sipped her brandy. “Was that too bitchy?”

“Not at all.”

“Good, because she’s going to blame me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Really?”

“Okay, she’s going to blame you. I’ll be sure she knows it didn’t happen here.”

Gabby settled more deeply into the sofa. “Twice. Did you hear that? They did it twice and Makayla is pregnant. Poor Hayley can’t carry a baby to term and she’s desperate for a child. It doesn’t seem fair.”

For a second she thought about mentioning they could give Hayley the baby, thereby solving several problems at once. But it was too soon, not to mention awkward. Once Makayla decided to give up the baby, there would be issues to deal with—both legal and emotional. Having the child living a mile away might mean never getting over what she’d been through.

She sipped her brandy. “I’ll do some research,” she said. “If you’re right about Boyd and he’s going to bail, then we need to be prepared. I’m assuming you’re not excited about the two of them staying together forever and raising the child together?”

“God, no. They’re too young.”

She felt herself relax a little. Good. At least they were on the same page when it came to Makayla giving up the baby.

“Candace isn’t going to take this well. Even if she doesn’t blame me, she’s going to freak.” Gabby thought about the other people who would have to know. “I want to wait to tell my parents. And the twins. They don’t need to know yet.”

Andrew sighed. “I know it’s wrong and selfish, but I keep thinking how this is going to affect us. What people are going to say. That we’re to blame.”

“We are the parents. Makayla lives with us.”

“Think we can get a sign that says
Don’t blame us. She didn’t do it in our house
?”

“Technically, we can, but I don’t think it’s very helpful.” Besides, Andrew would have it easy. He would head off to work and she would be the one taking Makayla to the doctor’s appointments and...

“Crap. She needs to see a doctor.” Gabby put down her drink and pulled her cell phone out of her jeans pocket. “I’ll send myself a note so we can get in as quickly as possible. We don’t even know how pregnant she is.”

“She didn’t say?”

“Not really. She says two or three months, but I’m not sure I believe her. She’s young and skinny. She could be four months along. You know there are all those news stories about teenagers hiding their pregnancy with baggy shirts.”

She typed the note and emailed it to herself. “You’re right. Everyone is going to judge us.” Her mostly. She was the mother figure and therefore the one to blame.

He slid his glass onto the coffee table, then leaned forward and gathered her into his arms. “I couldn’t do this without you, Gabby. You know that, don’t you? You’re my everything.”

She hung on to him. “You’re mine. We’ll figure it out. Step by step.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you told me about them kissing. I still can’t believe it. She’s a kid.”

While it was too late to change anything, hearing the apology was kind of nice. She let herself relax against him. Tomorrow was plenty of time to panic. Right now they had the beginnings of a plan and each other. Until morning, that was enough.

Chapter Twelve

“The location is perfect,” Lindsey Woods, an attractive fifty-something blonde, said as she walked through the living room.

“We’re going to be painting,” Hayley told her, hoping she sounded calmer than she felt. “In the kitchen I thought we could replace the hardware.”

“Inexpensive bang for the buck.”

Lindsey moved into that room and looked out the back window. “Nice layout. It hasn’t been renovated, but I think there are buyers who would rather do that themselves. To be honest, you’re better off letting the price reflect the lack of updating than to do a cheap job on the sly. Most buyers today aren’t fooled.”

Hayley smiled and nodded, anxious about how long the appointment was taking. She only had an hour before she had to be back at work. But Lindsey had promised to be quick as she viewed the house. Once she assessed the property, she would get some comps from other homes in the area, then write up a full report. It would include a marketing plan, a suggested price, along with easy, inexpensive fixes to get the house ready to be listed.

Armed with that information, Hayley would then have the job of convincing Rob this was the right thing to do.

Lindsey checked out the bedrooms, then did a quick tour of the backyard. When she walked back into the kitchen, she nodded.

“It’s lovely, just as you said. The age of the house isn’t really an issue. Buyers want character, which your home has. The market is booming right now. Mischief Bay is a sought-after location and the school district is excellent. I think with very little TLC, you’ll find yourself fielding multiple offers.”

Hayley leaned against the door frame. “That would be great.” A bidding war would be better. They needed to get at least a hundred thousand dollars from the sale but more would be better. More would mean having money to put down on another house.

They probably wouldn’t be able to purchase in Mischief Bay at that point, but maybe somewhere close so Rob didn’t have to commute. She didn’t love the idea of moving into an apartment, but that couldn’t be helped. She’d thought and thought, and short of winning the lottery, there was simply no other way to raise that kind of money for her treatment in Switzerland.

“It will take me a couple of days to get everything together,” Lindsey told her. “Let’s say by end of business Wednesday? I’ll email the material to you.”

“Thank you.”

As Hayley started toward the front door, she heard a car pull into the driveway. She pressed a hand to her chest. No! Why was Rob home now? He was supposed to be at work. She’d deliberately scheduled the appointment with Lindsey in the middle of the day.

The front door opened and Rob walked in. “Hayley? I saw your car. Are you okay?”

Lindsey walked toward him, her hand outstretched. “This is nice. I didn’t think we were going to get the chance for introductions today. I’m Lindsey Woods, Rob. Nice to meet you.”

Rob shook her hand, then pushed up his glasses. “Hayley, what’s going on?”

Lindsey’s smile faded. “I’m the real-estate agent your wife called. I’m here to look over the house. For when you list it?”

Rob looked between them. “I see.”

Hayley had no idea what to say. Rob wasn’t an idiot. He would figure out that she’d done all this behind his back. He would know why, too. Because he didn’t want to sell the house. He didn’t want her to keep trying to have a baby. He wanted her to give up.

Lindsey hesitated a second, as if sensing tension and not sure if she should say anything. Then she smiled again. “All right. I’ll see myself out. Hayley, I’ll be touch.”

The door closed behind her.

The house was quiet. Hayley heard the refrigerator kick on. She waited for Rob to say something. When he didn’t, she wondered if he was expecting her to speak first. Maybe to apologize.

She knew that it was wrong to go behind his back, but it wasn’t as if she was going to sell the house without his permission. She just wanted to get all her facts together. They needed the money. He had to see that.

“I forgot my lunch,” he said, at last looking at her. “I came home to get it.”

“Oh.”

Rob walked past her to the kitchen. He collected his lunch from the refrigerator, then walked back to the front door and opened it.

“I can’t believe you’d do something like this,” he said, staring out at their yard. “I knew having a baby was important to you, but I didn’t think...” He swallowed. “The doctor was really clear, Hayley. You can’t get pregnant again. You need surgery.”

“I’m not going to have it. I don’t care what she said. I want to try the treatment in Switzerland.” Her voice was pleading. “Rob, you have to understand that I need to do this. Having a baby is the most important thing to me. It always has been. We need this.”

He looked at her for a long time. “Whatever happened when you were growing up has nothing to do with us now. We don’t need a baby, Hayley. Not to be happy. We need each other. We need our marriage to work.”

“I need the baby.”

“More than anything. Yeah. I got that.” He shook his head. “I’ll see you tonight.”

Hayley waited until he’d driven away before leaving herself. She felt unsettled inside, and a little scared. Rob wasn’t the type to scream, but he’d been too calm and quiet. He had to be mad.

As she drove home after work that afternoon, she tried to figure out what she was going to say. Maybe if she admitted she’d been wrong to talk to the agent without him, he would understand. If not, she was back to where she always was, trying to explain the emptiness inside her. The need to connect on a biological level. She knew nothing about her birth family. The adoption had been closed and she’d been unable to find out anything. She was a single entity in a sea of connected families. She wanted what most everyone else took for granted.

Just one baby. Was that asking too much? A baby of her own. Of their own.

She pulled onto their street and was surprised to find Rob’s car already in the driveway.

The fact that he was early could be both good and bad. He probably wanted to talk, but maybe he’d realized why they had to do this. Maybe he finally understood just how much she needed to have a child of her own. To not adopt or foster. To give birth.

The living room was empty. She heard noises coming from the bedroom and went down the small hallway.

A suitcase lay open on the bed, shirts and slacks lying next to it. Socks and underwear filled part of it. Rob walked in from the bathroom, jeans and T-shirts draped over his arm.

“You’re home,” he said. “Good. I didn’t want to have to leave a note.”

Her heart raced. She felt each breath as if it were a unique sensation. There wasn’t pain, but there was something. Something that left a bitter, metallic taste—like blood—on her tongue.

“You’re leaving.” Not a question. Of course he was leaving—the man had a suitcase. You didn’t pack a suitcase if you weren’t leaving.

He started folding clothes. “I’ll get the rest of my stuff over the weekend.”

“Rob, you can’t just go.”

“I have to.”

“But we’re married.”
You love me.
She nearly said the words, then thought perhaps that wasn’t the best argument right now.

He put down the half-folded shirt and faced her. His mouth was straight, his jaw determined. He wasn’t angry. Maybe resigned? “I love you, Hayley. You’re right. We’re married and I thought we were a team. But what you did today... I can’t forgive that.”

“I wasn’t going to sell the house without talking to you. I wanted information so we could make a decision together. I was just getting information.”

“You think that matters? You lied to me. You didn’t want to fix up this place for us. You planned to sell it all along. I thought we were making a start. A fresh start. We talked about the yard and the bathrooms. It was all a crock. You betrayed more than me. You betrayed us.”

“No.” Tears burned, but she blinked them back. “Rob, don’t. Stay. We can talk about this.”

“Are you still determined to get pregnant and have a baby?”

“Of course.”

He turned back to his packing. “That’s what I thought.”

“You’re going to leave me because I want a child? That’s horrible.”

He spun toward her, his eyes wide and dark. “No. I’m leaving because I won’t watch you kill yourself. Did you hear what the doctor said? You are going to die. You need a hysterectomy, Hayley. If you don’t get one, you’re at risk of bleeding out. Every single day I wonder if this is it. If I’m going to get a call saying you’re gone. That it’s too late. Every day.”

She sank onto the straight-back chair in the corner. “You never said anything.”

“I don’t talk about it. I figure you’re under enough stress. You want a baby. I get that. I know you’ve always felt your parents loved Morgan more than you. That’s not true, but me saying it doesn’t help. So we’ve tried. We’ve tried everything.” His voice softened. “Hayley, you have to stop. You have to accept there are simply some things your body can’t do. We have each other, and we can get a child another way.”

“No. I need my own baby. I need to be part of something. I need the connection.”

“You’re part of us.”

She looked at him. He stared at her for a second before turning back to the suitcase.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “It’s not enough. I know. That’s why I’m leaving. I want children, but I want you more. You can’t say that and because of your obsession, you’re going to die. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch it happen.”

Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “Rob, no. I need you.”

He didn’t bother looking at her. “No you don’t. You can get sperm anywhere.” He put in the last shirt, then zipped up the suitcase. “Look at the bright side. If we split up, we’ll sell the house. Maybe your half will be enough to pay for what you want.”

“That’s mean.”

“Maybe, but it’s the truth.” He looked around the room, then back at her. “If you change your mind, give me a call. If you don’t, good luck. I hope I’m wrong. I hope you continue to heal and everything is fine. But I don’t think so. I do love you. So very much. But I can’t be a part of you killing yourself. Not anymore.”

He picked up the suitcase and walked out. Hayley heard the front door close, then the sound of his car engine. Silence followed. Silence broken only by the sharpness of her desperate sobs.

* * *

Whoever said it took twenty-one days to form a habit, hadn’t been dealing with the complication of a pregnant fifteen-year-old, Gabby thought as she settled into the corner of the sofa in Andrew’s office. She’d been on her diet well over three weeks and still wanted to eat the entire house. Preferably doused in chocolate and whipped cream. The stress wasn’t helping at all.

On the bright side, there was something comforting about knowing that her day was going to end here—with her husband. The two of them discussing what was going on. Which so far had been nothing. Still, connecting seemed to be helping them both.

He held up the bottle of brandy. She shook her head.

“I’m still going to class at Nicole’s studio. I’m not sure I see the sense of working that hard, then drinking the calories later.”

“I’m impressed,” he told her.

“Thanks. I think the class makes me feel as if I’m in control of something.”

He sat next to her and laced his fingers with hers. “What a mess.”

“It is, but we’re getting through it.” It was day three of having learned about Makayla’s pregnancy, so they still had a long way to go, but still. A start. “I appreciate that you canceled your business trip to stay home this week. It helps.”

“It’s the least I can do. Anything to report?”

Gabby thought about her day. “I made an appointment for Makayla with my doctor’s office. The practice is all women, so that will help, but it’s not going to be easy.” There was peeking and probing when one was pregnant. When the mother-to-be was excited about having a baby, the visits were a small price to pay.

“Thanks for doing that,” Andrew said. “Candace texted and asked if she could trade this coming weekend for the next one. I agreed, mostly because it means putting off telling her, at least for a couple of weeks.”

“I would have done the same,” Gabby told him.

She shifted so she could lean against him. He put his arm around her.

“Candace is going to tell her to have an abortion.”

“We don’t know how far along she is.”

“I’m sure she’ll offer to find a doctor who will do it anyway.”

Gabby sighed. “Makayla is fifteen. This is traumatic enough without throwing that into the mix. She says she wants to have the baby. I don’t think we need to push her into any other decision right now.” There would be plenty of time to get the adoption process going once they had more information.

“We are talking about Candace,” he pointed out. “This is the same woman who didn’t understand why she had to give up three weeks of work after having a baby. I swear, if it had been up to her, she would have gone back to the office the next day.”

Gabby believed it. Candace had been the one to change the parenting plan to spend less time with her daughter, not more. Whatever her thoughts on Makayla getting pregnant, the conversation wasn’t going to go well.

“This is going to be my first grandchild,” Andrew said with a sigh. “Not how I imagined it.”

Gabby sat up and faced him. “That means I’m...” She couldn’t say it.

He smiled. “No. She’s your stepdaughter. It’s different.”

“Not really. I’m thirty-three. I can’t be a grandmother.” She was the mother of five-year-olds. That was more age-appropriate. “We are not having this conversation.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He pulled her close again and she relaxed against him. A grandmother. Impossible. Well, she just wouldn’t think about it. At least not for tonight.

* * *

Gary’s Café had been around forever. The original Gary had been dead at least twenty years and when his widow had sold the place, there’d been concern about changes. But the new owners had respected the idea of great food in an old-fashioned setting and had kept everything exactly the same. So despite three spruces and one complete remodel, Gary’s Café still had red vinyl booths, the specials written on a chalkboard and the best burgers in town.