Newton Neighbors (New England Trilogy) (47 page)

It broke her heart that Josh was so mad at her, but it was easy for him to be noble. He was the guy. His work, life, and studies could chug along without much intrusion. She was the one who would have to change everything. She would never be able to go out and party or take off for a weekend at the last minute.
 

No, there was no doubt. Her life as she knew it would be over if she continued on this path.

Ely brushed her hair to stall getting out of the car. The shame and disappointment from her parents was the worst part. She was already the wild child who was incapable of getting a simple degree, but pregnancy? Ely studied her face in the rearview mirror as she pulled the paddle brush through her long, dark hair. That was one stupid mistake she should have been able to avoid. She knew all about the birds and the bees, damn it. Her father would be so mad and her mother . . . that was even worse. She would give Ely the silent treatment.
 

She could make this all go away, and nobody need ever know. Well, other than Josh, who hated her already, and Jessie, who had no idea she was even thinking about an abortion.
 

Ely used a scrunchie she found in her purse and scooped her hair up into a ponytail. Learning about Tristan had shaken her to the core. How had Jessie been that brave? She was so young. Her parents made the decision for her. Ely didn’t have that luxury. She was too old for her folks to take charge and too young to be able to handle a baby herself. It was the worst age possible. She threw her hairbrush back in her overnight bag.

Maybe she could lie to Jessie. Would that be kinder? She would pretend she miscarried—even tell Josh that. Then they wouldn’t judge her. She could carry the burden and shame alone—for life.
 

Ely wondered about heaven. Did it exist? If it did, would she meet her baby there? Or would she go to straight to hell for having the abortion in the first place? Perhaps her baby would be really mad because she lost the chance to live, or would the baby be happy because it was dropkicked straight back up to heaven? Her eyes glassed up again. Ely didn’t even know if she was carrying a boy or a girl. Was it a little Josh or little Ely? Did they make miniature cowboy boots for babies?

Ely looked at the building and stroked her stomach. Was this the smartest thing she had ever done, or the dumbest? Only time would tell. She got out of the car and started for the front door, but then her phone began to ring.

“Saved by the bell,” she said and answered the call.

“Hullo, is this Elyse Briskin?” The man’s voice was a rich English one.

“Yeah, who wants to know?”

“Oh, good. My name is Richard Worthington. I’ve been talking with your friend, Hugo Hendrix.”

Ely thought it was a joke. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yes. Well, he’s been telling me all about your fabulous shampoo line. I think it’s a bloody marvelous idea, and I’d like to discuss it with you, if you’re interested.”

“Who is this really?” Ely said, backing up and sitting on the hood of her rental.

“I’m Richard Worthington. You know Worth Airways?”

“Come on. I know who Richard Worthington is. I just don’t think you’re him.”

“Didn’t he tell you I’d be calling?”

“Nope.” But then she remembered Noreen talking about it. Was it possible? “You’re really Richard Worthington?”

“Yes, last time I checked.”

“And you wanna buy my Down Under Shampoo?”

He laughed. “I love the name. Look, could we meet in early January? Perhaps you might like to visit me at my getaway—Necker Island. You could bring a friend if that would make you more comfortable. I’ll send a jet to collect you.”

“A private jet?”

“Well, I do own an airline, Miss Briskin.”

“Mr. Worthington, I think you can call me Ely.”

“Okay, Ely. Will you visit me to talk about your shampoo line? Come to Necker Island in January. It’s very nice at that time of year. I think you’ll like it.”

“Mr. Worthington, I think I might like that very much.” Ely smiled into the phone. “Just to be clear about this. Do you want to buy my idea? Or do you want to go into business together?”

“I’m open to suggestions, Ely.”

“Gee, I feel like I’m on one of those reality shows.”

He laughed. “Look I’ve got your phone number, so I’ll get my assistant to call early in the New Year and we can figure out times and dates to suit both our schedules. Hugo tells me you’re in college.”

“Yes, sir, but I’ll be finishing that up this spring because I’m pregnant.”

“Oh? Congratulations. Maybe you need to think about a range of baby shampoos, too?”

“Now, there’s an idea, Mr. Worthington.” She glanced up at the house she was parked outside and saw the curtains twitch. She’d been spotted. Josh came out to the front door of his North Carolina home and searched her face, his own pale with concern.
 

“I gotta go now, Mr. Worthington. We’ll talk soon.” She hit the end button on her phone and ran up the path to where Josh was waiting, her ponytail swinging from side to side like a little girl.

“I couldn’t do it, baby. I couldn’t go through with it, so I hope you meant it when you said you loved me and you wanted this baby.”

Josh’s face lit up, and he threw his arms open. “For real? You’re still pregnant with our baby?”

Ely ran into his embrace and hugged him tight. “Yes. You’re gonna be a daddy. I’m gonna quit school and set up my own business. It might not be the way we saw our lives going, but, heck, you only got one life.”

Josh cradled her face in his hands and stared into her eyes. “We’ll be young parents. That’s cool. Best of all, though, I got the most wonderful, exciting, dynamic, stubborn as a mule woman in the world.”

Ely stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Josh draped his arm over her shoulders and guided her up the steps to his family home.

“I guess this is a good time for you to meet the folks.”

“Okay, this is gonna be a bit awkward.”

“Nah. I already told my mama all about you. It’s gonna be just fine.”

She put her arm around his waist and squeezed tight.

“By the way, I got an early Christmas present. Richard Worthington wants to buy my shampoo line.”

“What?”

“Told you it was a good idea.”

“You know what? This was a great idea.” Michael held up the tumbler of whiskey.

Rick wasn’t so sure. “I know it’s almost Christmas, but we can’t drink all day and all night. Plus I’m going in to work tomorrow morning.”

“What? It’ll be Christmas Eve. Don’t you have any last-minute shopping to do?” Michael brought his glass down to rest on the arm of the chair. “Or not?”

Rick had never seen Michael looking so miserable. It had been just over twenty-four hours since he had moved in, but his friend was going downhill fast. He hadn’t showered, shaved, or even changed clothes since his arrival. “Did you talk to Cathi today?”

Michael shook his head. “I only moved out yesterday. I can’t call her already, but God, I miss the girls.”

“Tell them to come visit.”

Michael tried to read the time on his watch, but he seemed to be having trouble focusing. “It’s late, but they’re on vacation from school tomorrow. I’ll call in the morning.”

“You better clean yourself up and change before that.”

His friend lifted a hand up and sniffed his underarm. “Bad?”

It made Rick smile. “Not yet, but you look like shit.”

“Ha! Thanks! What about you, Mr. Happy? Any word from Maria?”

“Nah, I thought the kids would be tired today after the late night flight last night. Things run much later over there. I’m sure they stayed up and had a big meal when they arrived. They’ll be exhausted by now. Alice turns one today.”

“Ah, shit.”

Rick agreed but didn’t speak.

“You seriously going in to work tomorrow?” Michael’s eyes were drooping now. “I think you’re crazy. At least you have a gorgeous wife and two great kids who adore you. Maria just wanted to see more of you. I think Cathi would have traded me in for a richer model if she got the chance. You’re one lucky bastard.”

Rick drained his whiskey glass. He didn’t normally drink this heavily, but nothing was normal anymore. He had plowed through the day with work like he always did, but it had been the least productive day of his life. He kept wondering what Maria and the kids were doing. Was Cody swimming? Was Alice being difficult for her mom? Was Maria crying, or was she happy in the Puerto Rican sun, surrounded by family—all except him.
 

“What you wanna do for Christmas Day? We can order pizza or go out to a movie?”

Rick stood up. “I need another drink—you want one?”
 

“Sure, why the hell not? I’m not going into the office tomorrow.” Michael drained his glass and handed it to Rick.

“Jesus, Michael, it’s not that big a deal. Lots of people work Christmas Eve, and I might even work Christmas Day, too. I’ve got a lot going on now.”

“What’s the point?”

“The point is . . . well, it’s what I do. I’m damn good at it, and I make a lot of money. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Yeah? You work Christmas Day every year?” Michael’s eyes seemed sharper now. He was drunk, but he was still talking smart.

“Lay off.”
 

Rick walked out to the dining room, heading toward the cupboard where they kept the whiskey. The lake caught his eye. It had been a long time since he had admired it. The night was clear, and the moonlight bounced off the ice like lights at a Disney stage show. Rick would have to call Maria to see if she had arrived safely. He poured two huge glasses of whiskey and capped the bottle. He turned to leave the room and spotted the vase of flowers he’d given his wife on the sideboard. The roses were dead now, which annoyed him. Why hadn’t she thrown them in the trash? They were weeks old.
 

It made him think of when he used to bring her flowers every Friday after work. When had he stopped doing that? Life had just gotten too full. He was always rushing. He tried to remember when he had bought the dead roses—early November, almost two months. Wow . . . that long.

Rick had never felt more frustrated, miserable, or alone. He headed back to Michael. “Got you another whiskey.”

But his friend was asleep in the oversized armchair. Rick nudged his shoulder gently, unsure whether to wake him or let him sleep it off.

“Hey, you want this?”
 

Michael moved a little but didn’t open his eyes. “What’s the point?” he said in his sleep.
 

Rick didn’t know if his guest was dreaming about Cathi or saying no to another drink.

He sat back down. “I believe the point was to get drunk, Michael.” He raised his glass to his unconscious friend. “Here’s to getting real, real drunk. I think it’s a great idea.”

“This was a great idea,” Jessie said to her mother as they walked out of church together on Christmas Eve. It was a special family service, full of carol singing and festive cheer. The exit was flanked by enormous urns, crammed with shiny green holly and festooned in bright red berries. Ivy cascaded down the sides, and Jessie touched it as she walked by. She hadn’t been to a service in all the time she’d lived in Boston. It wasn’t high on her agenda, but it was for Elizabeth Armstrong.