Nobody's Baby but Mine (37 page)

“Why?”

“I wasn’t in the mood to deal with contracts.”

“I wasn’t a contract.”

“No. But I just didn’t think what was happening between us was any of his damned business!” He looked frustrated. “It never occurred to me that he’d try to take action against you without my go-ahead.”

“But it sounds as if you’d already given him that.”

“Yes, but—” He opened his hand in a gesture that was oddly vulnerable. “Jane, I’m sorry. I didn’t think for a minute he’d do anything without talking to me.”

She should have felt better. After all, he hadn’t been actively plotting against her this past month, but she still felt awful. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d picked up the phone and told him to call off his dogs. Why didn’t you do it, Cal? Were you afraid you were going to lose your macho by backing off?”

“It just wasn’t important, that’s all. Things had settled down between us, and revenge was the last thing on my mind.”

“Too bad you didn’t let your bloodsucker know that.”

He plowed his hand through his already rumpled hair. “Look, no harm’s been done. I have no intention of giving Preeze a penny, and if anybody there tries to get rid of you, I’ll slap them with a discrimination lawsuit so fast they won’t know what hit them.”

“It’s my business, Cal, not yours.”

“Just give me a couple of hours. I’ll straighten it all out, I promise.”

“And then what?” she asked quietly.

“Then you won’t have to worry about anything like this again.”

“That’s not what I mean. After you straighten it out, what happens between us?”

“Nothing happens. Everything will be the way it was.” He moved toward his study. “I’m going to make my phone calls, then I’ll unload your car and we can go out to eat. I can’t believe you even considered running away.”

She followed him to his study, then stopped in the doorway. She rubbed her arms, but the chill she felt came from inside instead of outside. “I don’t think we’re going to be able to go back to the way things were.”

“Sure we can.” He moved toward his desk. “I swear to God, I’m going to fire Delgado.”

“Don’t blame him for what you started,” she said softly.

He spun back toward her, his body rigid. “Don’t you dare say that!
You’re
the one who started this, and don’t you forget it!”

“How can I when you throw it in my face every chance you get?”

He glared at her, and she glared back at him. Then she looked away. This game of assigning blame accomplished nothing.

She pushed her hands into the pockets of her dress and reminded herself that her worst fear had been groundless. He hadn’t been plotting against her at the same time they were making love. But the awful knot in her stomach wouldn’t go away. What had happened was merely a symbol of all the problems that lurked between them, problems she’d ignored or glossed over as if they didn’t exist.

She remembered how hopeful she’d been only a few days earlier that he loved her. She remembered all the dream castles she’d built in her head. It was ironic that a person who’d been trained in the scientific method could be so swift to abandon logic for wishful thinking.

She withdrew her hands from her pockets and clasped them in front of her. “I need to know where we’re headed, Cal, and what your feelings are toward me.”

“What do you mean?”

The discomfort in his voice indicated that he knew exactly what she meant. “How do you feel about me?”

“You know how I feel.”

“Actually, I don’t.”

“Then, you must not have been paying attention.”

He was going to make this even more difficult than it already was, but she wouldn’t back away. The time for daydreaming had passed. She needed to know exactly where she stood. “The only direct remark I can ever remember you making is that you like me.”

“Of course, I like you. You know that.”

She met his eyes squarely and forced herself to speak the words that wanted to remain stuck in the back of her throat. “I told you I loved you.”

His gaze dropped, and she realized he couldn’t look her in the eye. “I’m— I guess I’m flattered.”

She dug her fingernails into her palms. “I don’t think so. I think my honesty has scared you to death. And I also think you don’t love me back.”

“What the hell does something like that mean anyway?” He stalked to his desk. “We’ve gotten along together better than either of us ever could have imagined, and we’re going to have a baby. Why do we have to stick a label on it? I care about you, and in my mind that counts for a lot.” He dropped down into his chair as if the discussion had come to an end.

She wouldn’t leave it there. Perhaps she’d gained a bit of wisdom in the last few months, or maybe it was simply stubbornness, but it was time he added something more to this relationship than sex and a few laughs. “I’m afraid caring isn’t enough for me when I think about our future.”

He gestured toward her with an impatient hand. “The future will take care of itself. Neither of us wants to be boxed in right now.”

“The last time we talked about it, the idea was that we’d get a divorce as soon as the baby is born. Do you still want that?”

“It’s way ahead. How do I know what’s going to happen?”

“But that’s still your plan?”

“That was the original plan.”

“And now?”

“I don’t know. How can either of us know? One day at a time.”

“I don’t want to measure time in days any longer.”

“Well, that’s the way it has to be for now.”

He wouldn’t commit, and she could no longer accept anything less. Tears pushed at her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She had to bail out now, while she still retained her dignity, and she intended to do it honestly.

“I’m afraid I can’t handle this anymore, Cal. I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—I know you didn’t ask me to—but that’s what happened. I seemed destined to screw up where you’re concerned.” She licked her dry lips. “I’m going back to Chicago.”

He shot up from the desk. “Like hell you are!”

“I’ll contact you after the baby’s born, but until then, I’d appreciate it if you’d communicate with me through my lawyer. I promise I won’t make things tough for you when it comes to visitation.”

“You’re running away.” He glared down at her, clearly on the attack. “You don’t have the guts to stay and work this out, so you want to run away.”

She struggled to speak calmly. “What is there to work out? You’re still going to want a divorce.”

“I’m not in any hurry.”

“But you’re still planning on it.”

“So what? We’re friends, and there’s no reason for it to turn nasty.”

Pain swelled in her chest as he confirmed what she already knew. He didn’t view their marriage as permanent. He was merely marking time. She turned away from him and walked out into the foyer.

He was beside her in an instant. A vein throbbed at his temple, and his expression was stark. She wasn’t surprised. A man like Cal didn’t take well to ultimatums.

“If you think I’m going to come running after you, you’re wrong! Once you go out that door, our marriage is over for sure. You’re out of my life, do you hear me?”

She nodded stiffly and blinked away the tears.

“I mean it, Jane!”

Without a word, she turned and walked from his house.

Cal didn’t stand around to watch her drive away. Instead, he kicked the door shut and stalked into the kitchen, where he grabbed a bottle of scotch from the pantry. For a moment he couldn’t make up his mind whether to drink it or smash it against the wall. He’d be damned before he let her push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He wrenched off the cap and tilted the bottle to his lips. The scotch burned all the way down. If this was the way she wanted things, then fine. He dashed the back of his hand across his lips. It was about time his life got back to normal.

But instead of feeling better, he wanted to throw back his head and howl. He took another swallow and nursed his grievances against her.

He’d offered her more than he’d ever offered any woman—he’d offered her his damned friendship!—and what did she do? She threw it right back in his face just because he didn’t feel like getting down on one knee and volunteering for a life sentence picking out fucking
wallpaper
!

His hand clenched around the bottle. He wouldn’t give in. There were lots of women out there who were younger and prettier, women who didn’t see the need to pick fights with him over every little thing, who’d do what he said and then leave him alone. That’s what he wanted. Someone young and beautiful who’d leave him alone.

He took another swig then went into his study where he set about the business of getting seriously drunk.

Jane knew she couldn’t leave until she’d said good-bye to Annie. Neither could she give in to her grief right now, so she blinked her eyes and took big, shuddering gulps of air as she drove to the top of Heartache Mountain. Lynn’s car wasn’t in sight, and she was grateful she could say good-bye to Annie without a hostile witness.

The house looked so different from when she’d first seen it. Cal had painted it white. He’d fixed the crooked shutters and the broken step. As she entered and called out Annie’s name, she pushed away the memory of the laughter they’d shared while they’d worked.

When she reached the kitchen, she saw Annie through the screen door. She was sitting outside in the sun snapping green beans from a pottery bowl on her lap. As Jane watched the rhythmic motion of Annie’s gnarled fingers, she wanted to take the bowl from her and snap the beans herself. Bean snapping was one task that hadn’t been influenced by technology. It was performed exactly the same way now that it had been hundreds of years ago. It suddenly seemed to her that snapping those beans would bring something solid into her life, a link with all the women who had come before her, all the women throughout history who’d snapped beans and survived the heartache of men who didn’t love them back.

She bit her lip, then stepped outside. Annie turned her head. “ ’Bout time you decided to stop by.”

She sat down in the tubular lawn chair next to Annie and regarded the bowl that rested in her lap on top of a piece of newspaper to collect scraps. At that moment, its contents seemed precious and utterly necessary to her well-being. “Can I do those?”

“I don’t like waste.”

“All right.” Her hands trembled as she took the bowl. With utmost concentration, she bent her head, pulled out a bean, and carefully snapped off the ends. Apparently she didn’t take off too much because Annie didn’t criticize. She let the ends drop into her lap and focused on breaking the beans into bite-sized lengths.

“Those is store-bought beans. The ones from my garden’ll be a lot better.”

“I wish I were going to be here long enough to see them come in.” Her voice sounded almost normal. A little toneless, maybe. A shade tight. But almost normal.

“They’ll be ready long before Cal has to leave for trainin’ camp and the two of you head back to Chicago.”

Jane didn’t say anything. Instead, she picked up another bean, pushed her thumbnail into the end, and tore it off.

For the next few minutes she applied herself only to the beans, while Annie watched a bluebird hop from one branch to another in her magnolia tree. But instead of bringing her peace, Annie’s quiet and the warmth of the sun on her skin, along with the peaceful repetition of this woman’s task, made her defenses too complicated to keep in place, and they slowly crumbled.

A tear slipped over her bottom lid, trailed down her cheek, and splashed onto the bodice of her cotton dress. Another fell and then another. A shuddering little hiccup slipped out. She continued to break the beans and stopped fighting her grief.

Annie watched the bluebird fly away and then followed the path of a squirrel in the same tree. One of Jane’s tears dripped into the beans.

Annie began to hum softly under her breath. Jane finished the last bean, then searched frantically through the bowl for one she might have overlooked.

Annie reached into the pocket of her old apron, drew out a pink tissue, and handed it over. Jane blew her nose and began to speak. “I—I’m going to miss you s-so much, Annie, but I can’t stand it anymore. I have to go away. H-he doesn’t love me.”

Annie pursed her lips with disapproval. “Calvin, he don’t know what he feels.”

“He’s old enough to have figured it out by now.” She gave her nose an angry blow.

“Never knew a man who hated getting older so much. Usually, it’s women who’ll fight the years.”

“I couldn’t leave without saying good-bye.” She had to get away, and she nearly dropped the beans as she stood.

“Set those right down before you spill ’em all over the ground.”

Jane did as she said. Annie struggled out of her chair. “You’re a good girl, Janie Bonner. He’ll come to his senses soon.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Sometimes a wife needs a little patience.”

“I’m afraid I’m fresh out.” More tears rolled down her cheeks. “Besides, I’m not a real wife.”

“Now that’s plain nonsense.”

She didn’t have any words left to argue, so she wrapped the small, frail-boned woman in her arms. “Thanks for everything, Annie, but I’ve got to go.” After a gentle hug, she pulled away and turned toward the house.

That was when she saw Lynn Bonner standing on the back step.