Читать книгу You're My Baby - Laura Abbot - Страница 10

SLOWLY PAM EASED her feet to the floor, caught off guard by the question, by Grant’s sudden earnestness and by her own disturbing flashbacks. Steven—devilishly handsome in an intense, scholarly sort of way. High cheekbones, dark eyes, thick black hair, and long, tapering fingers with a magic of their own. She couldn’t resist him, even after he told her the truth. But love?

In fairness, she owed Grant an honest answer. This man, not Steven, would be the baby’s father on record. She focused on the emotions Grant’s question had aroused—joy, passion, sadness, resignation. “In a nostalgic, romantic sense, a part of me will always love him. I would never have been intimate with him otherwise.”

She paused, remembering the yearning and pain in Steven’s brown eyes, recalling the apology he’d tried to voice before she had hushed him—before they had come together in mutual need and desire. Pam looked directly at Grant. “I was not promiscuous. Nor did I intend to get pregnant.”

“Have you reconsidered telling him about the baby?”

“No.” She paused, letting the sound of the word die away. “And I won’t. Fate threw us together in unusual circumstances. But he never deceived me.”

Grant appeared to be mulling over what she’d said. He probably wasn’t even aware of the furrow on his brow.

She pulled forth her deepest, most painful memory—one she’d never considered sharing. Until now. “I knew he was married. That he had two daughters, ten and twelve. He’d told me all about Julie, his wife.” Why couldn’t she catch her breath? “But what he said didn’t register until I saw her for myself.”

So vivid and distressing was the memory she was hardly aware of her surroundings or of the man sitting across from her. She struggled to go on. “He was being honored by the university. His family had flown in for the occasion. I hadn’t intended to go, but at the last minute, I couldn’t help myself. That’s when I saw her. That’s when I truly realized why he could never see me again. Never have anything further to do with me.”

“If this is too difficult, Pam—”

“No. I need to tell you.” She drew a deep breath, then went on. “He loves his wife. Dearly, devotedly. I saw that when he pushed her wheelchair onto the platform. When he leaned down to kiss her so very tenderly.” Tears filled her eyes. “Grant, she’s paralyzed from the shoulders down. A skiing accident.” She pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her cheeks. “Now do you see? I was lonely. He was a kind man with needs. I guess you could say nature took its course, and here I am—pregnant. Even so there’s no decision to be made. What do you suppose knowing about the baby would do to her? To him?” She let the question hang in the air before continuing. “I’ve given this considerable thought, and I know the time may come when, either for personal or medical reasons, my child will need the truth. But I’ll wait until that day arrives.”

He ran his hands up and down the arms of the recliner before speaking. “Thank you. I know it wasn’t easy for you to talk about this. After tonight, I won’t ask you any more questions about him. It’s just that, well, for the baby’s sake, I didn’t want there to be, you know, complications down the road.”

His earnest, troubled face swam before her. She was missing something implied by the faltering nature of his explanation. Was he prepared to care for this baby? To want to claim more than merely the title of “father”? Could he be thinking beyond the one year limit of their agreement?

SUNDAY AFTERNOON of Labor Day weekend Pam stood in her living room knee-deep in boxes. It was difficult to know what to take with her and what to put in storage. As if sensing an impending shift in their tranquility, Viola and Sebastian scampered from chair to table to windowsill, unsettled by the disruption of their space. Pam could empathize.

She studied the solid gold band on her left hand as if it were an encoded alien object. Though small, it served as the exclamation mark on her life-changing circumstances.

The wedding had gone off flawlessly, if you could call a three-minute ceremony in a farmhouse living room with two elderly ladies as witnesses—one playing a dirgelike rendition of “Oh, Promise Me” on a wheezing pump organ—a wedding. But it would do, Pam rationalized. She was beyond virginal wedding dresses, a flower-bedecked church and multiple chiffon-clad bridesmaids. At least she would be able to tell her son or daughter about the ceremony. About the champagne-hued tea dress she’d worn, about Grant standing tall and resolute in his navy suit and about the chaste kiss he’d dropped on her cheek at the urging of the beaming justice of the peace.

But the wedding night was a different story. Non-traditional in every sense of the word. After an awkward dinner at one of Dallas’s finest restaurants, Grant had delivered her to the condo and gone home to begin sorting his things to make room for hers. Since no one knew yet about their marriage, they’d decided to postpone her move until Tuesday evening to allow Andy to settle in and Grant to break their news to him in person. Meanwhile, Pam would see about leasing her condo.

Sun streamed through the picture window, illuminating the dust motes stirred by the packing. What next? The chore seemed suddenly overwhelming. Nor could she continue to ignore the difficult task she’d been putting off—telling her father about her marriage. Even though hers hadn’t been a normal wedding day, not having him by her side had hurt.

She picked up the phone, settled in her cozy chair and summoned the kitties to her lap for moral support. She uttered a silent prayer, then dialed, waiting patiently for several rings. Her father’s knees weren’t what they once were and he moved slowly. Finally he answered.

“Daddy, it’s Pam.”

As it always did when she called, his monotone voice brightened. “I’ve been wondering when I was going to hear from you, since I couldn’t get hold of you yesterday.”

Oh, yes. The ritual Saturday night call. “I was out.”

“On a date?” he asked hopefully.

She gathered her courage. “Not exactly. But something like that.” She hesitated, then, before she lost her nerve, rushed on. “Daddy, I have some news. Are you sitting down?”

“I don’t like the sound of that.”

“It’s not bad. Just something that may surprise you.”

“Girl, the cows’ll come home before you get around to telling me. What in tarnation is it?”

“There’s no easy way to say this, so here goes. I got married yesterday.” No response. Darn, she should’ve cushioned the shock somehow. “Dad, are you all right?”

“A Texas tornado gives more warning to a fella than you do. Gimme a minute.” There was a long pause, then he said, “Did you say ‘married’?”

“I did.”

“Who the hell to?” His voice betrayed the bafflement and hurt she’d been worried about.

“A good man, Daddy. His name is Grant Gilbert and he teaches with me at Keystone.”

“Why haven’t I heard anything about him before?”

“Well, this has been kind of a whirlwind relationship.”

Her father snorted. “That’s putting it mildly.” He was quiet for a time. Then he said, “I would have come, you know. If you’d invited me.”

Pam bit her lip. She’d disappointed her father, and the sadness in his voice spoke volumes. “I know you would have. But we…eloped. It was a brief ceremony, just the two of us, and now we’re getting packed so I can move in with him, so it just seemed—”

“Better to take the biggest step in your life without your old dad?”

She pinched her forehead and searched for the right words. “There wasn’t time. School starts Tuesday, Grant’s son is coming to live with him and—”

“Son? What son? Slow down and start over.”

So she did, telling him about Andy, about Grant, about everything except the baby.

When she finished, in a low voice he said, “Do you love him?”

She had never lied to her father. Could she start now? “He’s a wonderful, caring man, Daddy. You’ll love him as much as I do.” That was close to the truth, wasn’t it?

“Well, then.” He sighed heavily. “That’s all that matters. When do I get to meet my son-in-law?”

“Soon. Let us get school underway and my move completed. Then we’ll all come visit you.”

“Honey—”

She sensed he was about to ask a question, perhaps the dreaded “Are you pregnant?” But he must’ve reconsidered, because all he added was “Be happy.”

After she hung up, she sat for several minutes, absentmindedly stroking Viola and Sebastian. Eventually she’d have to tell Barbara. But not right now.

Her father’s acceptance had reinforced her obligation to commit to this marriage, in appearance if not in fact.

SUNDAY EVENING Grant called Jim Campbell to ask if he and Pam could drop by on a matter of school business. The Campbells needed to be told first, not only because Jim, as headmaster, needed to know, but because Connie and Jim were their friends. But now, approaching their attractive ranch-style home near the campus, Grant had a walloping case of stage fright. This would be his and Pam’s first attempt to pull off their fabricated story. Could they possibly convince anyone they were in love?

He glanced at Pam, who was giving undue attention to the passing scenery. His eye caught the gleam of her wedding band and, with his left thumb, he fingered his. “Nervous?” he asked.

“Try terrified. Connie has a radar capability metropolitan police would envy.”

“Things’ll go smoother after we get the telling over with.”

“I hope so. Dad wasn’t easy, and when I called my sister, she wasn’t very understanding, much less congratulatory. She’ll freak out when she learns I’m pregnant.”

“My folks didn’t have much reaction when I told them, but after thirty years in the military, little fazes them. They couldn’t have come to a wedding on short notice anyway.” Time enough later to reveal “strained” accurately described his relationship with his hard-nosed father.

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Her question stopped him short. How little they really knew about each other despite working together for several years. “I had an older brother.” He swallowed, the memory still painful. “He died of brain cancer when he was twenty-nine.”

She laid a comforting hand on his thigh. “I’m so sorry. How devastating for you and your family.”

“Yeah, it was. Brian and I were eighteen months apart. We shared a room, played together on the high school team, fought over the same girls. I guess you could say he was my best friend.” He didn’t add that Brian had also served as a buffer between him and his father. From the time his dad had returned from Vietnam, he’d been difficult, distant. Brian had been the golden boy who could do no wrong. But Grant? In his father’s eyes, he’d never been anything but a disappointment. And the hell of it was, he’d never understood why.

“Your family’s had a lot to deal with in recent years.”

He smiled ruefully. “So maybe a baby’ll help, huh?”

She looked thoughtful. “Maybe,” she said quietly, removing her hand from his leg.

Why had he gone and said a fool thing like that? As if he had any claim to the baby beyond next September. He couldn’t start thinking of the child as his in any way except name.

“Here we are,” he said, pulling to a stop in front of the rambling brick home. On the porch was a white deacon’s bench illuminated by an antique lamppost. He turned off the ignition and sought her eyes, which reflected the same uncertainty he was feeling.

Neither of them moved. Finally she drew a deep breath and jabbed him on the shoulder. “Show time!”

“Is this where I say, ‘Break a leg’?”

“This is where,” she answered just before he left the car to come around and escort her up the walkway.

After greeting them, Jim ushered them into the inviting family room, displaying many of the primitive American pieces he and Connie collected. When Jim had first filled the interim headmaster position, before accepting the job permanently, the faculty had been stunned to find out he and Connie had known each other in their distant past. It hadn’t taken long for them to renew their friendship, culminating in a marriage much approved by Connie’s mother, daughter and the entire Keystone community.

Jim settled in a wing chair, and Grant and Pam sat together on the sofa. “I gather there’s some urgency to the matter you want to discuss,” Jim began.

Grant found his voice—and Pam’s hand. “There is.”

Pam looked around. “Connie needs to hear this, too.”

“I’ll get her.” Jim stepped down the hall and summoned Connie, who took a seat in the antique rocker by the hearth.

“Pam, Grant? You’re sure this isn’t confidential?” she asked uncertainly.

“We’re sure. In fact, we imagine everyone at school will know in a matter of days,” Pam said.

“Well, don’t keep us in suspense.” Connie eyed Pam curiously, as if unsure whether concern or elation was the expected response.

Grant seized the initiative. “Although this may come as a shock, yesterday, happily, Pam and I were married.”

Connie’s eyes widened in bafflement. “Wait. I’m having trouble taking this in.”

“It’s true.” Pam cast Grant an adoring look—a convincing, adoring look.

Jim glanced from one to the other. “Married?”

Connie studied Pam as if searching for a key to the mystery, before facing her husband. “That’s what they said.”

“It’s understandable,” Grant managed, “that our news is a surprise.”

“You can say that again, but surprise or not,” Connie said over her shoulder as she moved toward the kitchen, “this definitely calls for champagne. And then—” she paused for emphasis “—we want to hear the whole story.”

She returned bearing a tray of filled champagne flutes, which she distributed, then indicated they should all stand up. With a bemused smile, she raised her glass. “To our friends Pam and Grant. May their love grow with each day they spend together and may their home be filled with joy and peace.”

“Hear, hear,” Jim said, as the four touched their glasses and drank.

Grant noticed that Pam took only a token sip.