Читать книгу The Consequences - Colette Freedman - Страница 17

CHAPTER 10

“Hello?” a man’s voice answered, sounding slightly puzzled.

The same explosion and gunfire sound echoed tinnily in the background, and Stephanie knew that Robert Walker was watching the same movie as Izzie and Dave.

“Hello?” he repeated.

“You may want to move away from the TV and find someplace private where you can talk,” Stephanie said softly. She was sitting up in bed, her chin propped on her knees, her right arm wrapped around her legs, while she pressed the chunky portable phone to her ear.

The line hissed and popped, but she could clearly hear Robert Walker swallow. She smiled. She could imagine him sitting at home, maybe surrounded by his wife, children, and relatives.

“Sure . . . sure,” he said with forced joviality. “And a Merry Christmas to you too. Let me just step out of the room, away from the TV. . . .”

She heard the phone move away from his lips, and his voice, muffled, as he made an excuse to someone in the background. She heard the two words “Christmas . . . dinner,” and was unable to resist a grin. Izzie had been right; she was about to ruin his appetite.

There was a click, and then the ambient sound on the line changed as Robert swapped phones, and his slightly fast, almost panicked breathing was now clearly audible.

“Are you okay?” he asked immediately.

“Yes . . . no . . . I don’t know,” she answered truthfully.

“I’ve been worried out of my mind, and when I couldn’t get hold of you, I didn’t know what to think, and then before, when we were instant-messaging and you said you didn’t want to see me again, I was devastated.”

Stephanie took a moment before she responded. He was devastated. And yet he’d lost nothing. His affair with her had cost him nothing. Whereas the same affair had cost her so much more and, if she really was pregnant, it had altered her future irrevocably. There were a dozen responses she could have made—sad or sarcastic, bitter or angry—but in the end, she contented herself with the blunt statement “I think I’m pregnant, Robert.”

The silence that followed was so long that Stephanie was forced to interrupt it. “What? No quick comment, no witty retort, no congratulations?”

“I . . . I . . . No. I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, think of something.”

“How did this . . . I mean, when did this happen?”

“Who knows? We’ve had sex a couple of times without using protection.”

“I said you should have gone on the pill.”

Stephanie bit back the snap of anger and swallowed hard. This was not a time for scoring points. This was a time for decisions.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “Certain?”

“Reasonably,” she lied. “My period is ten days late.”

“Ten days isn’t a lot, is it?” he said desperately.

“It’s long enough.”

“But you’ve taken a test, haven’t you? Confirmed it?”

“It’s Christmas Day, Robert, just in case you’ve forgotten. Where am I going to get a pregnancy test kit today?”

She could hear him licking dry lips. “But you really think you could be?” He couldn’t even say the word.

“Yes, I do.”

There was a sound that might have been either a sigh or a moan. “Have you decided what to do about it . . . about the baby?”

“No. But you’re the father. I wanted to talk to you first. Make some joint decisions. Real decisions.”

“Yes, yes, yes, of course. Look, can we meet? Not today obviously . . .”

No, not today because he was having a Christmas family get-together and would not be able to fabricate an excuse to get out of the house.

“Tomorrow. Can we meet tomorrow?”

Stephanie allowed herself a smile. “Tomorrow might be a little difficult for me. . . .”

“I really need to see you, to talk to you,” Robert protested. “I can meet you. Anywhere,” he added.

“Anywhere?”

“I’ll go anywhere,” he insisted.

“Fine then. I’m at my parents’ house.”

There was a pause. “In Wisconsin?”

“Yes.”

“What are you doing there?”

“Having a family Christmas,” she said, unable to keep the touch of bitterness out of her voice. “Robert,” she hissed, “what did you expect me to do? Sit around in an empty house on Christmas Day reminding myself just how stupid I’d been?”

“Look, about yesterday . . .”

“Not now,” she snapped. “I don’t want to talk about the past. I want to talk about our child.” Something twisted inside Stephanie at the phrase “our child,” and she was forced to take a deep breath. “You know, I had no intention of ever seeing you again, of ever having anything to do with you. But that’s changed now. If I am pregnant, I have to see you.”

“Yes, yes, of course you must.” There was another pause, then she heard him draw in a deep shuddering breath. “How sure? I mean how certain are you that you’re pregnant?” She could hear the desperation in his voice, the panic bubbling to the surface.

“You’ve asked me that already, and I’ll give you the same answer: reasonably sure.”

“When will you know for certain?”

“Tomorrow,” she said, wondering if the local Target or Walmart would be open and guessing that they would.

“When are you coming home?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t planning to come back until after the New Year, but I think this changes everything. I’ll see if I can get back before the weekend. I’ll check flights later.”

“Let me know what flight you’re coming in on. I’ll pick you up. We can talk. Make decisions. See what you want to do about it.”

Stephanie didn’t like the way the tone of the conversation had shifted. “Robert, it’s not what I want to do—this is our baby. It is all about what we want to do.”

“Well, let’s talk about options. . . .”

Stephanie frowned, feeling something sour at the back of her throat. “What do you mean by options?”

Something in Stephanie’s tone must have alerted Robert, because he immediately changed tack. “I mean what’s best for you and the baby.” There was a pause, then he said, “Look, I’ve got to go. It’s great to hear from you, and good to know that you’re okay.” He attempted a laugh, which sounded hollow. “Though how you got to Madison on Christmas Eve, I’ll never know. What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. Bit like when I began my affair with you, Robert. I simply wasn’t thinking of the consequences.” She hung up, dropped the phone on the bed, and flopped back on the pillows. Then she smiled. There was a certain grim satisfaction in ruining his Christmas. She’d dearly love to be a fly on the wall in his cozy Brookline home right about now.

Stephanie’s practical nature kicked in. Maybe she was pregnant; maybe not. The first priority was to confirm that. If she was, then she needed to get back to Boston to confront Robert and decide what they were going to do. There was never any question in her mind that she was going to have the baby. An abortion was out of the question. Even if she had not been born and raised in a strictly Catholic household, she suddenly realized that she wanted this baby. There had been that moment during her conversation with Robert when she had thought he was going to suggest an abortion, but she knew that wasn’t going to happen. Perhaps if she were younger, but instinctively, she knew that she wanted this baby.

There was the problem with her job. If she had a first love, it was her career. How would having a child have an impact on that? It would certainly restrict her free time and opportunities for promotion, that was for sure. Her particular position entailed a great deal of travel; she’d have to cut down, and she’d have to find a good nanny.

She hadn’t really thought about children until Robert had proposed to her on Saturday. My God, was it four days ago? It felt like a lifetime. Some of her female colleagues had chosen to raise a child without the encumbrance of a man, and Stephanie had nothing but admiration for them. But, she knew she would never consider having a child unless she had a partner, someone to share the responsibility . . . and the burden.

Stephanie suddenly took a deep breath, held it for twenty seconds, and then slowly exhaled. My God, but she was getting way ahead of herself. Less than half an hour ago, the thought of pregnancy hadn’t even crossed her mind; now she was thinking about managing a child and a career.

First things first: She had to find out if she was pregnant.