having a baby.
‘Thank you. Yes. Oh, goodness. My scan.’ Abbie’s eyes were filled with pride that gave Cal a strange jolt in his gut.
Steph ambled on chatting as white noise filled his head. ‘Thought of any names yet? Did you ask about the gender?’
‘No. We’re going to wait. It’s exciting, though. I can’t believe that by Christmas there’s going to be a baby here.
She’s having a baby.
A bairn.
His overprotective gene fired into action. Finn would have laughed as usual and told him to back right off, but Cal couldn’t help it. This was serious. He waited until Steph had gone, then, ‘You didn’t tell me you were pregnant. Up there. In the snow. You fell over. I let you carry a heavy weight. Why did you let me think you were okay?’
‘I am okay. I’m fine, actually. Honestly.’ She didn’t even look a little contrite. What a dangerous game she’d been playing. And he shouldn’t care, not at all, but for some reason he was firing on all protection cylinders today.
Maybe he was missing Finn. Missing the opportunity to care and be useful. To fuss and smother, as Finn would say.
‘You carried that scoop, which would have put a strain on your whole body, and you hurt your side. You were wincing and it’s obvious you still have some pain.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s nothing, just a pulled muscle. Really, I’m fine.’
Yeah, he’d heard that before. When his brother wanted him to believe everything was okay. It hadn’t been. It had been far from okay. He wasn’t buying it. He stood up. ‘I want you to get looked over. I’m not listening to any excuses...you need to be checked out. An ultrasound or something.’
‘Who are you? My mother?’ But she was smiling. Smiling and moving and dancing. Really? He knew she was committed to someone else. Married, for God’s sake. He needed his head looking at.
‘I’m just concerned, Abbie. You could have hurt—’
‘My baby?’ she cut in, laughing. ‘Don’t worry, Callum. My baby is...’ she nodded towards a pregnant woman walking towards them ‘...over there.’
What?
He did the maths, joined the dots, put all the jigsaw pieces into place.
Ah.
How could he have got it so wrong? His gay radar wasn’t working today. ‘Oh. I see. Your partner’s having your baby... Your wife?’
She rubbed her fingers over her wedding ring and laughed. ‘You really have got it so wrong, I can’t begin to tell you. But I’ve got to go. I’ve a very important coffee date. Thanks for warming me up.’ Then she paused, blushed, her eyes meeting his in a very heterosexual kind of way. He could see something there that was just for him—a softening, a little bit of playfulness, a very timid flirt. Or was there? Was he going mad? There was definitely a connection here he just did not understand. She shook her head, dragging her gaze from his. ‘I mean... Well...thanks.’
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