the same time…well, it’s kind of a miracle.”
Concerned, Mary studied her mom, who looked kind of dreamy and misty. “Are we getting a puppy?”
Her mom laughed. “Better than a puppy. I’m having a baby.”
Mary stared, stunned into silence.
“Mary?”
“You’re pregnant?” She should have guessed when her mom had called it a miracle. That was a word she used a lot whenever she talked about anyone having a baby. Holy guacamole. She hadn’t thought her mother was even sexual.
Mary stepped around the kitchen island and enveloped her mother in a hug. “This is so cool! I’m going to be a big sister.”
When they pulled apart, they both had tears in their eyes. Natalie grabbed a paper towel and wiped at hers, but they just kept coming. “I feel so stupid, having to break the news to my own teenage daughter. Usually it’s the other way around.”
Mary pulled up another stool. “I thought you couldn’t. Get pregnant, I mean.”
“I thought I couldn’t, too. Which is why, you know, I didn’t protect myself.”
“You should have anyway,” Mary said primly. “For other reasons. Oh, but who cares now. This is so cool. So, who is he? You’re not going to have to marry the guy, are you? That would be positively medieval.”
“Ah, no, I’m not getting married.” Her eyes shifted slightly so Mary knew there was more to come. “But would it bother you if I did get married again?”
Mary thought about it. She knew it was selfish of her, but she’d had her mom all to herself for so long, the idea of some guy hanging around all the time, bossing her around, didn’t sit well with her.
Still, she forced herself to be nice. “Mom, if you fell in love with someone and wanted to marry him, that would be fine with me. You have a right to be happy. But I wouldn’t want you to marry some guy just because he got you pregnant. It’s just not necessary.”
“No, I agree, it’s not. But I will have to tell him. It’s only fair.”
Mary wasn’t so sure. If there was to be a new baby in the house, she didn’t want to have to share it or her mom with some guy. “He won’t, like, want custody or anything stupid like that, will he?”
Her mom shook her head. “I can’t imagine he would.”
“So who is he?”
“I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later.” Her mother sighed. “It’s Josh.”
Mary hadn’t thought she could be any more surprised, but she’d been wrong. “Josh? As in Josh Carlson, your ex-husband?”
“’Fraid so. Honey, I smell something—”
“Oh, my sauce!” Mary rushed around to the stove and turned off the flame under her saucepan. She stirred the contents. It looked okay, if a little thick. “I think it’s fine. Are you hungry? What am I saying, of course you are. You’re eating for two.”
Natalie smiled. “I’m starving.”
She watched her daughter move confidently around the kitchen stirring various things. This hadn’t been nearly as difficult as she’d feared it would be. She’d anticipated Mary being horrified that her mother would get herself into such a compromising situation, or jealous at the idea of another child in the house. But she seemed to be happy about it.
She and Mary were closer than most mothers and daughters, perhaps because it had always been just the two of them. Natalie had shared a lot about her past with Mary, including the basic facts of her youthful marriage and her infertility. Maybe she shared too much, but confiding secrets to each other had come naturally.
“You saw Josh at the class reunion?” Mary asked as she set a plate in front of her mother.
“Unexpectedly. I’m afraid we let all the nostalgia sweep us away.”
“That’s kind of sweet, really,” Mary said, sitting down at the bar beside her mother with her own plate of food.
It was a lot of things, but sweet wasn’t an adjective Natalie would have used. When she’d awakened naked in Josh’s hotel room the next morning, depraved had been the first word that came to mind.
What the hell were we thinking? had been the first words out of her mouth. In hindsight, perhaps her outburst had been ill-considered. Josh had been insulted by her insistence she’d made a terrible mistake, and their parting had been awkward.
Another wave of terror washed over her as she thought about telling Josh the news of his impending fatherhood.
“Mom? Is the curry too hot?”
“Oh, no, honey, it tastes wonderful. You truly are gifted.” She took another bite of chicken, really noticing the taste this time.
“I’m gonna be a big help when the baby comes,” Mary said. “I’ll help you take care of it.”
“That’s really sweet of you, honey.” She caressed her daughter’s smooth cheek and stroked her shiny black hair. Mary was so beautiful, inside and out. “I’m sure I’ll need lots of help. But I’m not going to stick you with babysitting all the time.”
“We’ll work it out,” Mary said in her sometimes unnervingly adult way. “So when are you going to tell him?”
Natalie set down her fork. “I suppose I ought to get it over with.” She would have to do it in person. Delivering this sort of news in a phone call just wouldn’t do. That meant a trip to Houston and an overnight stay. “I’ll aim for next week.”
She would need at least that long to figure out what she was going to say to Josh. Hi, Josh. Remember how I laughed at you for being worried about birth control? The joke’s on me.
“I’M VERY SERIOUS, MONTY,” Josh said into the phone. He was speaking to a colleague, and he was playing hardball—the only kind of ball he ever played. “Ten million plus medical expenses is a perfectly reasonable demand. My client’s life will never be the same.”
His client was a seventeen-year-old boy, a classmate of his son who’d been attacked and badly injured by a Rottweiler. The dog’s wealthy owner was claiming the boy had provoked the dog, but it turned out the dog had a history of at least three attacks on visitors to their home. The dog owner did not have a leg to stand on.
Unfortunately, neither did Josh’s client, and he meant that in a very real physical sense. The dog had severed multiple tendons in the boy’s leg, which would require surgery and physical therapy, and even then he might not ever walk without a limp. The kid was going to suffer for years and his baseball scholarship was out the window.
This was the kind of case Josh loved, one where there was a clear-cut bad guy—and it wasn’t his client. He would almost welcome taking this one to court. A jury would have a field day.
“My client says one million,” the other attorney said. “Not a penny more.”
Josh
