Читать книгу Come Home to Me - Бренда Новак - Страница 13

5

Presley hated leaving other people to do her work. She didn’t want to feel indebted to Riley or Aaron. Especially Aaron. But she was terrified that if Aaron and Wyatt had any interaction at all he’d suspect the truth. If Aaron hadn’t always been so vigilant about birth control, or if there’d been a specific incident when they’d noticed a broken rubber—which there wasn’t—he would already have questioned her or Cheyenne about the circumstances of Wyatt’s conception.

Fortunately, she had those two things going for her.

She’d made the right decision in not telling him, hadn’t she? Every once in a while, she panicked, wondering if she’d been crazy to make the choice she’d made. But she hadn’t gotten pregnant on purpose; there was no duplicity involved. And she didn’t expect child support or anything else from him. So how was the fact that she’d kept Wyatt hurting him?

It wasn’t. To her knowledge, he’d never expressed any interest in having a child. Indeed, his diligence in the birth control department indicated he didn’t want one. There were times he’d even said as much, when a friend married or had a kid. That meant she was doing him a huge favor by keeping the truth to herself. It allowed him to lead whatever life he chose without having to wrestle with his conscience.

Of course, if he found out, there was no guarantee he’d look at the situation so philosophically. That was what frightened her. She hated to even think of the possibility....

Wyatt, happy now that she’d let him loose to run around the house, started to empty his toy box.

“You little devil,” she teased when she saw the mess he was making.

He grinned up at her, completely unrepentant, and she bent to press her lips to his forehead. Then she dropped onto the lumpy sofa she’d bought from the thrift store where she’d worked in Fresno. “You’re a charmer, aren’t you?” she said as he babbled and played. “Just like your daddy. Headstrong, too,” she added, thinking of how willful they could both be.

“Mama!” He brought her his collection of cars, one by one.

Despite a long list of worries, Presley couldn’t help smiling when he trundled over without a car just to plant a kiss on her face. His kisses were wet and sloppy but, for her, they were one of life’s true pleasures. She loved Wyatt so much—and that was why she had to keep up her defenses where Aaron was concerned, no matter how intent he seemed on regaining her friendship.

Her cell phone rang. She tensed, afraid it might be Riley or Aaron with a question, but caller ID indicated it was Cheyenne.

With a yawn, she hit the talk button. “Hello?”

Wyatt tugged at her arm. “Pone, Mama? Pone?”

She smiled at his attempt to say phone. He was learning more words all the time. “That’s right, baby. Phone.”

“Presley? Hello?”

She could hear a certain amount of pique in Cheyenne’s voice. “I’m here. What’s wrong?”

“I just stopped by your studio.”

Oh, boy... When Cheyenne and Dylan had agreed to help her if she moved back, they’d indicated that the quickest way to lose their support would be to get mixed up with the wrong crowd again—and they considered Aaron and his friends “the wrong crowd.”

“I don’t know what he’s doing there, Chey,” she said, preempting her sister’s complaint.

“It looked to me like he was painting!”

Stifling a groan, she covered her eyes with one arm. “He came over this morning and offered. It wasn’t as if I asked him.”

“You could’ve said no! You told me you’d stay away from him. If he finds out...I don’t have to tell you I have a lot to lose, too.”

Cheyenne hated lying to Dylan. And having her and Aaron in such close proximity threatened them both with exposure.

But Presley hadn’t wanted things to turn out like this! She’d tried to make the situation easier on everyone by leaving town. She’d planned to stay in Fresno indefinitely and would have done so if not for what was going on at Wyatt’s day care. She’d lodged a complaint, knew the day care was being investigated, but those days of doubt and suspicion had shaken her trust.

“I tried.”

“You said that you told him you wouldn’t be spending any time with him.”

“I did!”

“Maybe you weren’t blunt enough.”

The look on Aaron’s face when she squeezed past him at the bookstore convinced her otherwise. “He understood.”

“Then why is he painting your studio?”

She couldn’t figure it out, unless... “I can only guess that finding Riley there made him...competitive.” He wasn’t used to being rejected or upstaged. Most girls couldn’t bring him home to their mothers and expect their mothers to be pleased, but women were inexplicably drawn to the edgy, take-your-chance aura that surrounded him. Aaron dared what most men wouldn’t. That, coupled with his good looks, made him almost irresistible. Although he didn’t seem to take his appeal too seriously, Presley had witnessed the female attention he received and had often been surprised that she was the one going home with him at the end of the evening.

“Maybe he wants to be the one to reject me.” She’d always felt he was more attractive than she was. And his personality? He could charm most people—or cut them with a glance. He wouldn’t like losing the position of strength he’d held with her.

“Isn’t that what happened the night Mom died?” Cheyenne asked.

“More or less,” she mumbled, but he hadn’t actually said or done anything to change the status of their relationship. Had she not been pregnant, and had she stayed in town, they probably would’ve gone on like before—partying and sleeping together, at least until he met someone else. But she hadn’t been satisfied being a placeholder, hadn’t been satisfied with knowing that he was restless and would eventually move on.

Then, in the midst of her quandary about what she should do to protect herself before she got hurt, she’d run out of time to decide. Once she found out she was pregnant, she’d had to choose quickly—have an abortion, as he’d likely prefer, or throw her whole heart into raising their child alone.

She glanced over at Wyatt. He was sitting on the floor, playing with a toy that had pop-up Sesame Street characters. His face lit up when he noticed her watching and he slammed Cookie Monster back into his cubby just to show her that he could.

She’d made the right choice, she decided. Wyatt could take all the love she had to give—and he had the ability to love her back.

“So why’s he still interested?” Cheyenne asked. “You’ve always said he doesn’t really care about you. Is it that he suddenly sees you as a challenge and that excites him? Or is he trying to save face? Maybe he wants to prove he can get you back in the sack—or he’s out to show Dylan and me that he’ll do as he damn well pleases.”

“I thought you liked Aaron.”

“I do. I love him to pieces. But you know how contrary he can be.”

“I can’t imagine he’d be willing to work that hard just to get me back in bed. He’s more of a take-me-or-leave-me kind of guy. That was the Aaron I used to know, anyway.”

“So, to be on the safe side, you’re going to reiterate that you’re not interested?”

“Of course.” She had no choice, not with the secret she was guarding.

“I hope you’re more effective than you were when you said he couldn’t paint your studio,” her sister grumbled.

“Riley was there, helping out. I didn’t want to tell Aaron he couldn’t do the same. What reason could I give? Why would it be more acceptable for Riley to help me than Aaron?”

“Riley’s not Wyatt’s father.”

“Exactly my point. That’s something we don’t want him to guess.” She rolled a ball over to Wyatt. “Speaking of Riley, you don’t sound surprised about finding him there.”

“I was surprised. At first.”

Presley leaned back. “And then?”

“He told me he wants to take you out, and it made sense.”

“Was Aaron there when he said that?”

“He was standing about ten feet away. I actually got the impression Riley was announcing his intentions for Aaron’s sake, to stake his claim or...or put him on notice.”

“You sound pleased.”

“I am. I loved it. After the way he took you for granted, don’t you?”

She supposed it did feel good that someone else might want her, and that Aaron was aware of it. She’d always suffered from low self-esteem. She couldn’t feel good about herself while making the kinds of mistakes she’d made. “How did Aaron react?”

“He dropped his brush,” Cheyenne said with a laugh.

“That’s it? He didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word.”

Of course he wouldn’t. Why had she even asked? Aaron wouldn’t feel threatened. He’d only befriended her in the beginning out of pity. He understood what it was like to be lost and alone; they both did. “I know why he’s helping,” she said, finally figuring it out.

“Why?”

“He feels bad about how he acted the night Mom died. This is his way of apologizing.”

“You think so?”

“That’s my guess. He can be sweet. Sometimes.” He could also be tender, especially in the wee hours of the night after making love, which was why sex with him was more fulfilling than with most men. Just thinking about the deep-down satisfaction he could provide made her feel bereft without him.

Don’t focus on that. He’s like smoke. There’s no way to grab hold of him for more than a few minutes, no way to keep him close....

“How can you let him off the hook so he’ll go on about his business?”

“By accepting his apology and assuring him that I have no hard feelings.”

“Fabulous. Do it right away.”

Wyatt was getting sleepy. Presley could see him rubbing his eyes. Thank goodness. She needed a nap herself. “If you’ll watch Wyatt later this afternoon, I’ll go over to the studio, thank Aaron for his help and tell him I don’t hold anything against him. That should do the trick.”

“What if Riley’s still there?”

“I’ll walk Aaron out.”

“Perfect. Of course I’ll babysit.” Her sister didn’t ask why she didn’t want to take her son along; she understood that Presley was afraid for Wyatt to be around Aaron. She’d seen Aaron’s baby pictures. They both thought Wyatt resembled him at that age. “How much will you have to pay him for painting?”

“Nothing.”

“And Riley?”

“He’s not charging me, either.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No. Can you believe it? They’re working for free.”

“Well, not free,” Cheyenne said. “Riley wants to date you. Which makes me wonder about Aaron. Is it truly forgiveness he’s after? Or something that involves less clothes and more skin?”

Presley didn’t answer that question. She couldn’t even consider it without having her thoughts go places that weakened her resolve. “When will he be leaving town?”

“The date still isn’t set.”

Too bad. It would be so much simpler if she could mark her calendar, give herself a goal. She was about to say so when Cheyenne changed the subject.

“You know when...when you got pregnant with Wyatt?”

Her son squealed as he found the lever that revealed Big Bird. “What?” Presley said, returning her attention to their conversation.

“The night you got pregnant.”

“What night would that be? Aaron and I always used birth control. So I have no idea exactly when I conceived.”

“Whatever night it was...somehow it happened even though you were using a condom?”

Where was she going with this? “Yes. Condoms aren’t a hundred percent effective, Chey. That can’t come as a shock to you. You’re not suggesting I tried to get pregnant—”

“Of course not!”

Presley had always been afraid she might be accused of trying to trap him, since everyone knew she cared more for Aaron than he did for her. But she’d kept Wyatt’s connection to Aaron a secret, so that argument was irrelevant. Still, she didn’t want anyone thinking she’d tried to use him to give her a child, either. “Then what are we talking about?”

“Aaron’s obviously capable of fathering children.”

“Why would anyone assume otherwise?”

“They wouldn’t, but you got pregnant, despite trying not to. That suggests he has...you know, strong, competent swimmers.”

“You’re evaluating the potency of his sperm?”

Presley regretted her shocked tone when Cheyenne immediately backpedaled. “No, never mind. Forget it.”

She sat up. “Why would you have any interest in Aaron’s sperm?”

“Because he has the same genes as Dylan!” her sister replied, exasperated. “Why else?”

“The rest of the Amos brothers would have those genes, too.”

“But Aaron would be the most likely to cooperate with something a little...unorthodox—and the least likely to tell Dylan.”

Unorthodox? Presley wasn’t sure she liked the sound of that. Switching the phone to her other ear, she stood and began to pace. “You’re considering artificial insemination.”

“Maybe.”

“With Aaron as the donor?”

There was a brief silence. Then her sister said, “I’m getting desperate, Pres. What we’re going through is affecting our marriage. I hate seeing my husband feel so bad about himself.”

“How do you know Dylan’s sterile? It could be you, couldn’t it?”

This pause lasted longer.

“Chey?”

“No,” she replied. “It’s not me. I’ve been checked.”

Presley sucked in her breath. As often as they talked—and she thought they shared everything—Cheyenne hadn’t mentioned going to the doctor. “Did Dylan go with you?” She couldn’t help wondering how he’d taken the news.

“No. I haven’t told him about it. I don’t think I ever will.”

So she’d made the appointment and driven to Sacramento on her own. Why hadn’t she asked Presley to go with her? Cheyenne had always been too damn private about whatever struggles she faced. She opened up only if she had no choice, which told Presley how concerned she was about this issue. “When did you see the doctor?”

“Last month.”

“And Dylan?”

“He hasn’t been checked, at least not officially.”

“There’s an unofficial way to do it?”

“There are kits you can buy online.”

“Seriously?”

“They have just about everything these days.”

“Wow. So he tested himself?”

“I tested him—without his knowledge. I didn’t want him to know...just in case. But now he’s talking about going to see his doctor. He mentioned it last night. And that means he’ll find out he’s infertile even if I don’t tell him. I’d rather wind up pregnant, if I can arrange it, so he can feel he did it. As if there’s nothing wrong with him...”

Cheyenne loved Dyl so much. She’d do anything to protect him, even concoct a daring plan like this. But she wasn’t a deceitful person. Keeping Wyatt’s true paternity a secret was enough of a burden for her. How would she cope with a much more personal secret?

“Dylan has been through so much, Chey. And he’s always managed. He can handle this, too. I think you’re selling him short.”

“It isn’t that at all! The question is why make him handle it? Why can’t I be his guardian angel for a change? He’s brought me so much happiness—I want to return the favor. If Aaron could lend me some sperm, Dylan would never have to cope with feeling inadequate. He won’t have to feel indebted, knowing how we got the baby, or jealous or disappointed, either. I mean, God, he deserves a break, right? Who deserves a break more than he does?”

“But using Aaron to get pregnant? That’s your solution?”

“Why not?”

“For starters, he and Dylan fight like crazy.”

“Doesn’t matter. Aaron would never tell a soul. I know he wouldn’t. He loves Dylan as much as I do. He’d do whatever was necessary to ensure Dylan’s happiness, especially if he understood what Dylan’s going through right now—how emasculating this is for him.”

Presley had to agree. Aaron had his issues, but he was loyal to the bone and, whether he’d admit it or not, he admired Dylan more than any other person on earth.

But there were as many reasons to reject Cheyenne’s idea as there were to consider it.

“Are you sure it’s time to resort to fertility treatments? It’s only been a couple of years. Maybe his sperm count will go up.”

“That’s highly unlikely.”

“How do you know?”

“I spoke to my doctor.”

“And?”

“She said there’s always a chance we could get pregnant, but in our case it would be slight. She suggested we look into alternatives.”

“Are there things you can do to increase that chance?”

“We’ve already done everything we can. We started trying for a baby almost as soon as we were married. The past six months, I’ve been taking my temperature and tracking ovulation. And I’ve never been on the pill. I was a virgin until I slept with him, remember? So it’s not as if we can blame the delay on the contraceptives we’ve used. If I was going to conceive in the usual way, it should’ve happened by now.”

“Maybe not—”

“I’m out of time. This is really upsetting Dyl. I want a baby, too, of course. Badly. But he’s feeling it was a mistake for me to marry him.”

Presley slid Wyatt’s toys closer to him with one foot. “I’m sorry about that, but there are so many risks when you’re using a known sperm donor.” Her mind was racing through them. “I mean, on some level, it makes sense to use Aaron. The baby will be closely related to Dyl and will look like him and all of that, so there’s a much better chance he’d never find out.”

“And I know Aaron’s medical history, know he’s healthy. Unless you think the drugs he took in the past—”

“No. He smoked pot now and then, but he didn’t do nearly as much crack as I did. He’s fine. But what about how Aaron might feel, looking at your child and knowing it’s his? Would he be able to handle that?”

“For Dylan’s sake? I think so. Aaron’s tough. Once he makes up his mind, there’s no changing it. He’d never go back on his word.”

But he was sensitive, too. That was what so many people didn’t understand about him—that his toughness protected a very soft heart. “He might regret it.”

“Why would he regret making his brother happy? We’d take excellent care of the child. And he can have other kids if he wants.”

Presley had made having a secret Aaron baby look easy. She hadn’t even meant to get pregnant, and here she was with Wyatt. No doubt that figured into her sister’s thoughts. “It would be a perfect plan if there was some way we could get Aaron’s sperm without him knowing,” she mused. “Like I did—by accident. But how could we ever do that?”

“We couldn’t. He’d have to go to a clinic and bank the sperm, and I’d have to go there afterward.”

“Without telling Dylan?”

“Yes, without telling Dylan!”

“Would a clinic do that?”

“Fortunately, we live in the most liberal state in the country when it comes to things like that. I asked an online doctor at one of those expert advice sites. According to her, there’s no law that a husband has to give his consent. She also said some clinics might demand it, but that I could find one that won’t.”

“And if you can’t?”

“Aaron has the same last name as my husband.”

“You’d have him pose as your partner?”

“Why not? I’d just need to go to a clinic or doctor that isn’t affiliated with the hospital where I’ll be giving birth. Otherwise, the fact that I was artificially inseminated would be noted on my chart, and one of the nurses could let it slip.”

“I can see you’ve put a lot of thought into this. But that brings up another point. What if Dylan found out? If not now, then later? In five or ten years? How would he feel about it?”

When Cheyenne spoke again, her voice was soft, defeated. “What am I doing? You’re right. That would be terrible. It won’t work.”

“And yet you can’t help going back to the possibility.”

“It would solve everything,” she said. “Using Aaron’s sperm instead of Dylan’s seems like such a...a technicality. It wouldn’t make any difference to me if I had Aaron’s child. Aaron’s so much like my husband. I love them both. And Dylan would adore a child. You’ve seen how he is with Wyatt.”

“He’d be a good father.” There was no question about that. “But...why not adopt?”

“That comes with as many risks.”

“True, but—”

“Anyway, I’m not opposed to it. I could see us adopting at some point. I just need Dylan to believe he gave me one.”

“To salvage all that male pride?”

“It’s the way he is,” she said defensively. “And I wouldn’t change him even if I could. Pride’s one of the things that carried him through the hard times, that gave him the determination he needed to soldier on. It’s—”

“You want to do this,” Presley broke in, going straight to the bottom line.

“If it’ll make Dylan feel better, I do. But I’m scared, too.”

Now that she wasn’t so shocked by the idea, Presley tried to be more open-minded. In a way, it did seem like a technicality that it wouldn’t be Dylan’s sperm. She’d want to save her husband the humiliation and anguish, too, if she had a husband like Dylan and that husband had a brother like Aaron. “I guess you wouldn’t be the first person to use a known donor.”

“People do it all the time.”

More knowledge gleaned from the internet? “Without the consent of their spouse? I still think that’s asking for trouble.”

“It’s not like I intend to sleep with Aaron, Pres. I won’t be cheating. Is it really that terrible to use, with the donor’s permission, some DNA that’s very similar to my husband’s? What Dylan doesn’t know can’t hurt him.”

Presley sat on the edge of the couch and massaged her forehead. She’d used almost the same logic. Which led to the same conclusion. “Unless he finds out.”

“He won’t,” Cheyenne argued. “Who’s going to tell him? Me? You? Aaron? None of us! It doesn’t have to be a big deal unless we make it a big deal.”

“If you do this, we’ll both have children by Aaron.” She chuckled, although it wasn’t funny.

“Maybe it’s time to tell him about Wyatt, since that could figure into his decision.”

“No. Absolutely not.” Cheyenne wanted to end the anxiety that keeping her secret created. But Presley wasn’t ready, wasn’t willing to trade a release of anxiety for what could happen if Aaron found out. “Not yet.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. Wyatt’s too little. Maybe when he gets older, when he’s capable of making his own choices.”

“Okay, but...if I go to Aaron about this...donation, do you think he’ll demand we tell Dylan?”

“My bet? He’d rather Dylan not know. That way, it can’t get awkward between them.” The Aaron she knew wouldn’t want or need the credit. He was like that. Bighearted, magnanimous and sensitive to the delicate balance that made it possible to continue having a relationship with Dylan. Some people took home stray dogs or cats. Aaron took home stray people. She had a feeling he’d only befriended her initially because she’d been so isolated from the rest of Whiskey Creek. The night he’d sought her out at Sexy Sadie’s she’d been sitting in a corner alone. He’d walked over and said something about being her neighbor before inviting her to his table.

“I should talk to him, then?” Cheyenne asked.

“If you’re really convinced it’ll make things better for Dylan.”

“You wouldn’t mind if...if I also had a child by Aaron?”

“You felt you had to ask me?”

“Because of Wyatt I thought I should.”

“I have no claim on Aaron.” Wyatt and her baby would be half brothers instead of cousins, but why would that matter? “Our children can grow up together here in Whiskey Creek.”

“It’ll be a far nicer childhood than ours was.”

“No kidding,” Presley agreed with a weak laugh. She especially felt sorry for Cheyenne. She would’ve had a very different life if Anita hadn’t stolen her from her birth family. At least Anita was Presley’s real mother. “So when are you going to approach him?”

“I have to do it soon, before Dylan works up the nerve to go to the doctor, or there’ll be no point.”

Presley tried to picture her sister asking Aaron to donate his sperm. “That should be a very interesting conversation.”