His Pregnancy Ultimatum. Helen Bianchin
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Alice knew her well. Too well. ‘If I take that option, the responsibility is my own.’
‘I kind of figured you’d say that.’ An absentminded sip from her cup brought a murmur of disgust. ‘I’ll make fresh tea.’
Mia checked her watch. ‘You don’t want to be late collecting Matt.’
Her sister groaned. ‘I need to take him on to the tennis club for coaching.’
‘We can pick up something to go, and drink it while we watch him.’
They did, and Matt’s enthusiastic welcome lightened Mia’s heart a little as she applauded his good shots with as much fervour as his mother.
Was this where she’d be in ten years? Cheering her son or daughter on from the sideline? Ensuring there was a host of extra-curricular activities to strengthen the mind and body, thus avoiding the pitfalls of vulnerable youth?
The conception of this tiny foetus growing inside her womb was a mistake. Yet its presence existed. If she carried it to term, it would never know its father. And what empathy could she hope to achieve as a mother with her child if she went with honesty and revealed the child’s existence was the result of a one-night stand with a stranger?
‘Did you see that backhand?’
She had, in an abstracted way. ‘Poetry in motion,’ she conceded, punching the air for Matt’s benefit.
At that moment her cellphone buzzed with an incoming SMS message, and she frowned as she read the text.
‘Problem?’ Alice queried, and Mia offered a rueful smile.
‘Nothing I can’t handle.’
Alice’s gaze held hers. ‘But not one you particularly want to?’
Mia rolled her eyes in an expressive gesture. ‘It’s—awkward.’
‘Explain awkward.’
‘It’s from Cris.’
‘One of the students you share lectures with?’
‘Yes. His family are Sydney based.’
‘That’s a problem, how?’
‘He’s nineteen, and he hasn’t told his family he’s gay.’
Alice’s expression didn’t change. ‘Okay, so why do I get the impression there’s more to it than what you’re telling me?’
Mia took her time in answering. ‘He’s a nice guy.’
‘And you feel protective of him?’
She summoned a mental image of the tall, lean young man who made her laugh, shared his sharp brain and the benefit of a photographic memory. ‘I value his friendship. We share two of the same lectures, and tend to hang out together.’
‘There’s a preconceived image on campus he’s your toy boy?’
‘No.’ She’d formed friendships with several fellow students and enjoyed their company. Yet she wasn’t a girlie girl who lived to follow the latest fashion trends, and she veered away from the thinly veiled sexual overtones prevalent in many of the male students.
Cris didn’t cause her to put up barriers on any level.
‘I’ve been invited to dinner on Thursday evening.’
‘I think you should go,’ Alice opined as Matt finished up with his coach and came off the court. ‘How difficult can it be?’
Maybe Alice was right. And besides, if she declined on some fabricated excuse the invitation would inevitably be extended to another evening.
SMS made for easy, quick communication, and within minutes it was set, with Cris alerting he’d collect her at six.
‘It’ll be fun,’ Alice assured as they walked to the car.
Mia wasn’t so sure. Twice the next day she considered cancelling. Wednesday she made the call, only to cut the connection.
Thursday was way too late, for only an emergency would do…and her patron saint refused to oblige her with one.
Consequently Mia dressed with sophistication in mind. Stiletto heels, the classic black dress, minimum jewellery with the exception of stunning drop ear studs. In the need to complete the image, she swept her hair into a smooth knot and secured it, then teased a few tendrils free to curl below each temple.
‘Don’t go,’ a tiny voice warned as she collected her evening purse and exited the guest room. Fool, she admonished. No one would eat her. Besides, she was capable of taking care of herself.
‘Looking good.’
Mia offered her nine-year-old nephew an affectionate smile. ‘You think?’
‘Wow, definitely,’ Matt declared with a male appreciation beyond his years.
‘Your ride has just pulled into the driveway,’ Alice forewarned a few seconds ahead of the sound of a car door closing.
Mia rolled her eyes expressively. ‘I wish this didn’t seem like such a big deal.’
Somehow ‘the family would like to meet you’ had seemed a light-hearted invitation at the time, but, now it was imminent, she wasn’t so sure.
‘Cris is a fellow student, a friend. I’m sure his family are very nice.’
The name Karedes numbered high among the city’s social echelon, and nice was debatable, given Cris’ version of his family.
Elder brother, Nikolos, who ruled the Karedes Corporation with a fist of steel; their widowed mother Sofia, whose influence was superseded only by Angelena the family matriarch, Nikolos and Cris’ widowed paternal grandmother.
The doorbell pealed, and Mia drew in a deep breath as she crossed into the hallway.
‘Hi.’ Her greeting held genuine warmth for the young man standing in the aperture.
He was attractive, with dark soul-searching eyes, a warm smile and generous heart; his tall frame and lean features held promise of the man he would become.
Introductions were made with ease, and minutes later Mia slid into the passenger seat of a Porsche.
‘Yours?’ she teased as he sent the car purring down the street.
‘It belongs to my brother.’
‘And he lets you borrow it?’
‘When I’m home.’ Cris effected a negligible shrug. ‘He has others.’
‘As in plural?’
‘Uh-huh.’
A shiver slid down