The questions came one after the other in a dizzying cadence.
I plated myself a serving of mashed potatoes, added a bit of salt (Mom never used enough salt in her potatoes), and said, “I’m pregnant.”
Mom and Dad looked at each other, speechless.
“Dad, could you pass the pepper, please?”
He didn’t pass me the pepper. Instead, he stood from the table, threw his folded up napkin on his vacated chair, and paced back and forth, rubbing his chin. “Who is it? Someone from New York? Or someone from here in Magnolia?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t answer. How was I to know who the father was?
“I demand to know,” Dad said. He turned and faced me and brought a closed hand down on the table with a loud smack, rattling the water glasses and the cutlery. “I’ll deal with this guy, whoever he is.”
“What are you going to do, Dad?”
“I’ll march him up the aisle, by force if I have to, make him do the honorable thing.”
I had never seen my dad angry like he was then. His round face, balding head, and short stature didn’t accommodate anger very well. He looked simply ridiculous and angry. It was hard for me to look at him without busting out laughing.
“What’s so funny!?” he yelled.
The outburst only fueled my laughter, turning the initial poorly stifled chuckle into an all-out laughing fit until I nearly choked and gasped for breath, tears streaming down my face.
“What’s so funny?” he repeated, softly this time.
I shook my head, wiped my mouth with my napkin, took in a deep breath, and exhaled slowly. “I don’t know who the father is. There are seven likely candidates.”
In actuality, there were only five—Ryder and Lincoln couldn’t have been the father. We hooked up after I’d been discharged from the hospital. But at the moment, I had the seven guys in my head, and they were inseparable from my life. “Seven candidates,” I repeated. “One from New York, and six from Magnolia.”
My mom just about fainted.
I could almost hear the studio audience laughing. I looked over my shoulder but there was no audience, just the sight of Lincoln’s house and his bedroom window with the curtains drawn.
I needed to talk to someone who would understand me. I thought first of Aiden, then Lincoln, then Ryder. I called none of them—too much drama for me that day already. I called Greta in New York.
“How’s Wyoming treating you?”
I didn’t know where to start, so I said, “Great, I have to quit the agency. Thank you for all you’ve done for me, but it’s time I moved on.”
“Are you sure?” she said. “You can think on it for another week or two. You don’t need to make a decision today.”
“I’m pregnant.”
“Oh, congratulations,” she said, more as a question. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Greta, I have to go. Take care of yourself.” I hung up then slipped out of the house to go for a long run. No destination in mind, only speed and the need to exhaust myself.
26
Teddy
I would have thought that being unemployed meant being inactive. But I’d never been as busy as I was those first two weeks after being fired. I helped the police track down Wolf, who was promptly arrested. Then I managed to convince the Mayor not to shut down the rodeo but instead put me in charge. I would make sure the animals were treated humanely. She was skeptical at first, but I offered to hire a vet that would conduct regular examinations and report directly to her.
To my surprise, the Mayor agreed. It was amazing how two people could reach an understanding when they shared a common objective and engaged in an open and honest dialogue. Unfortunately, I didn’t have as much luck with her granddaughter, Ruby.
I tried to act as a conciliator. I phoned Ruby and attempted to make my case, but she was not receptive. Wyatt had also tried, and he had also failed like Samuel and Grayson, too.
Fortunately, we couldn’t sulk in our misfortune. There was simply too much work to do. We’d been inactive for well over a week, and if we were to get the rodeo up and running, we’d have to cram two weeks’ worth of work into one. It was a good thing in a way. Throwing ourselves into our work helped dull the pain of our loss.
“Four more days and we open,” I said to the guys, looking out proudly at the newly erected ring and grandstands.
Wyatt pointed in the direction of the woods. “We still need to put up fencing by the woods. But we’re just about finished.”
“If I could stand up,” said Grayson, who was lying on the ground, exhausted, “I’d suggest we go out dancing to celebrate.”
I shook my head. “We can celebrate when we’re finished, truly finished.”
“But we can take a break,” said Samuel.