“No, no, I’m fine,” she mumbled. She realized that she was just blankly staring at Eric’s face again. It occurred to her he must be wondering who the father was—
Bewildering flashes of images, memories and feelings flooded her awareness, making it difficult for her to concentrate. She saw Marc standing there just inside the revolving doors of the Palmer House Hotel in Chicago, the sight of him striking her as thrilling and sad at once—thrilling, because he’d grown into such a beautiful man, just as she’d known he would; sad, because all evidence of the boy she’d once known was gone forever.
She recalled Marc’s fierce, focused lovemaking last night, heard his husky voice.
Not just for tonight, Mari.
Another thought kept buzzing around her consciousness like a persistent fly.
This child was the grandchild of her parents—and of the man who had killed them.
She winced when another thought struck her as she slowly, carefully started to get off the examining table.
Not to mention that the only living grandparent would want nothing to do with my baby.
Mari operated on autopilot for the rest of the day. She straightened up the house for a showing at noon, then stopped by Natalie Reyes’ office to pick up the employment contract for Allison Trainor. While she was there, she made an abbreviated copy of the contract so that she could show it to Colleen this afternoon, in case she was interested in the position.
She recalled while driving down Vista Pointe Drive that she’d told Marc she’d make dinner for him that night.
A wave of panic rose in her. She pulled the car over to the side of the road, put the vehicle in park and instinctively placed her hand on her belly in a protective gesture.
“I’m going to have a baby,” she said out loud, needing to hear it, needing to let it seep into her consciousness. It didn’t help much. Everything that had happened since the thunderstorm last night to the present moment had a surreal cast to it.
After she’d recovered from her faint this morning, she’d actually sat down and had a discussion with the doctor. Dr. Hardy had made a recommendation for an obstetrician at Harbor Town Memorial, and her nurse had scheduled an appointment for Mari the following week. The information and advice Dr. Hardy had offered hadn’t seemed to help pound the strange new reality into her brain, though.
It must be shock, Mari thought as she proceeded down the street again.
On the way home from the grocery store, she noticed she’d missed another call from her brother. She didn’t call back. She didn’t know if she could bear talking to Ryan when she carried such a volatile secret.
An hour’s practice on her cello temporarily quieted the nagging, persistent question—what am I going to do?
In the shower, she examined her abdomen carefully, but there was no sign on the surface, anyway, of the miracle occurring in her body. A wondrous excitement rose up in her, and for a few seconds, she had a wild urge to run down the street and charge into the Kavanaugh house to share the news with Marc.
Reality sobered her quick enough, however. She finished showering, blow-dried her hair and dressed in a tangerine-colored linen skirt and matching tunic. She added a leather belt and slid into her favorite brown sandals.
She made some advanced preparations for a dinner she was both dreading and anticipating. Should she call Marc and cancel? It was going to be bad enough acting like she hadn’t received earth-shattering news this morning in front of Colleen Kavanaugh, but how could she look at Marc and not blurt out the truth?
Her feelings continued to run the gamut from dread to excitement, numbness to exhilaration. It was crazy. Mari supposed all the things she’d heard about pregnant women and their out-of-control emotions must be true. She was living proof.
At a quarter to five that afternoon, Mari heard a knock. She put the pitcher of herbal iced tea she’d just prepared into the refrigerator and hurried to the front door. Colleen stood on the porch wearing a pink sundress that showed off her golden tan. She smiled when Mari opened the screen door.
“I would have never thought you could get prettier than when you were eighteen, but I see you’ve gone and done the impossible.”
“I could say the same for you.” Mari laughed suddenly and shook her head, overwhelmed with happiness at seeing her old friend again. She waved Colleen inside. “Come in! I’m so pleased you—”
She paused when she saw Colleen glance worriedly toward the Kavanaugh house. “I was about to tell you, I ran over to ask if we could meet at my mother’s? I was in the process of dropping Jenny off so Mom could watch her, but Mom’s friend Mrs. Aichman called and asked if Mom could take her for her doctor’s appointment. I would have just brought Jenny along, but she fell asleep at Mom’s. She came down with a cold—it’s kept her up for the past two nights—and I hate to wake her. She really needs the sleep. So that’s why I’m here early.”
Colleen faded in her pressured explanation. Her eyes sharpened on Mari’s face.
“I can guess what you’re thinking, Mari,” Colleen said quietly. “No one else is home. Marc and Liam took Brendan to the beach this afternoon, and I doubt they’ll be back for a while. And like I said, my mom just left to run Mrs. Aichman to the hospital.”
Mari smiled, trying to hide her nervousness at the idea of stepping into the Kavanaugh house when she was quite sure she wouldn’t be welcomed there by the owner.
“I completely understand about Jenny. Why don’t we just reschedule our appointment?”
“Appointment?” Colleen said, blue-green eyes going wide. “You make it sound so official. I thought it was just a reacquaintance chat between two old friends.”
Two old friends.