neither had she meant to hurt him.
She resumed her mission, bent on her house, truck and bees. An hour and she’d return for Michaela, to have a chat with her daughter about crossing roads and going to the neighbor’s house without permission.
Michaela had to understand the gravity of her actions, of stranger-danger. One day her life could depend on it.
“Addie.” She heard his voice through a haze of worry and frustration.
With a sigh, she turned. He stood twenty feet up the driveway.
“Bee sting,” he said softly.
Bee sting. His code when they were teenagers, whenever she fought with her father and cried over his strict regimen, his harsh and opinionated philosophy. The words had helped her put things into perspective. Bee stings were ultimately worse than arguing with a parent.
As she gazed at Skip, she understood. Having him as her neighbor or having their children like each other was not as bad as an allergic reaction that squeezed air from windpipes—his windpipe.
Clamping her bottom lip at that memory, she turned for home, grateful he’d been a survivor that day. Because no matter what she believed about the past, nothing compared to seeing a twelve-year-old boy writhing on the ground, fighting for his next breath.
Chapter Four
What do you wish? That I didn’t hate you for what you said and did?
Addie’s words were a battering ram on his heart as he watched her walk away. He knew what she was talking about; knew the time and place—that day in the rain—and he heard the words that were said, all over again….
He had gone to pick her up to take her to dinner, to the movie Seven. But from the moment she climbed into his old Chevy, she’d been quiet, not ecstatic, and hadn’t recognized the energy radiating off his body. She’d always been in tune to him. But not that night. That night she had slipped into the seat, buckled up and kept her face averted.
“Hey, honey. I missed you today.”
He’d tried to kiss her before starting the car and felt the change in her then, but he shrugged it off, too high with his own euphoria. The call from the NFL scout had come an hour before.
Her subtle withdrawal probably meant she’d had another fight with Cyril, which Skip didn’t want to discuss. Not when he was damn near jumping out of his skin with excitement. He wanted to take her to a place for a nice meal to tell her, then to celebrate he wanted to park in their favorite spot along the lake and make love with her.
“Where would you like to eat?” he asked, driving away from her house. Rain smudged the windshield and he turned on the wipers. He glanced across the seat; she stared out the side window into the darkness. “Addie?”
Her walnut-colored hair swung along her shoulders as she shook her head. “I don’t want to eat. I’m not hungry.”
“Something wrong?” A small alarm bell rang when she remained silent. “You mad at me?”
“No,” she said, and he thought she murmured, I’m mad at myself, but he wasn’t sure because the radio was playing the oldies station she loved.
“Then where?” He was starving, but he’d grab a burger if she didn’t want to do the dinner scene.
“I don’t care.”
A streak of annoyance touched Skip. This was his big night. Couldn’t she sense his excitement?
He turned the wipers on high—like his inner alert signal. When he pulled into a burger joint, it was packed with people they’d known forever. Teenagers and college kids home for spring break. Skip killed the ignition and they listened to the rain drum on the hood.
And then she said the words, the ones that changed both their lives. “I’m late, Skip.”
Late. Oh, yeah. He knew exactly which late she meant.
Staring through the windshield he could see his life falling…falling into an abyss. His heart pounded, his palms grew clammy. “You sure?”
Still, she hadn’t looked at him, but stared instead through the rain-blurred glass. “I took the drugstore test this morning. Twice.”
No mistake. They’d made a baby, that’s what they’d done. Using condoms worked, but sometimes, sometimes things happened. Sometimes they broke, and sometimes they were forfeited for the real thing. Which they’d done once. Once—
He set his forehead on the steering wheel, tried to swallow while his mind spun with futuristic scenarios.
A cramped, dingy apartment. Construction work. Bills. Creditors.
“I’m keeping it,” she whispered, and he lifted his head. “You don’t need to stick around.” For the first time she looked at him.
“I won’t ruin your plans.”
In the darkness of night and rain, relief whirled through him, before shame settled and he took up her cold wringing hands. “Addie, we’ll work this out.”
“How?” The word was so full of hope he wanted to cry.
“I don’t know, but we will. I promise.” He pulled her into his arms, kissed her forehead. “It’ll be all right, honey. We’ll be okay.” He meant every word. The baby was his and he would be its daddy in a different way than his own father had been to him.
Three weeks later in the same spot, the same car, he’d told her, “This wasn’t my choice” and she’d leapt out and slammed the door before he could explain the power a father had over his son.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
