204 Rosewood Lane
Page 25

Her mother’s voice fell to a whisper. “I was a senior in high school when I discovered I was pregnant with you.”
Maryellen swallowed hard. The details of her birth hadn’t ever been openly discussed, although she’d figured out in her early teens that her mother had gotten pregnant in high school.
“I told Dan, and we had no idea what we were going to do. It was important that we wait until after graduation before we told our parents, but my mother knew. I never had to tell her about you, and do you know why?”
Maryellen’s eyes filled with tears and she picked up her napkin, crumpling it in her hands. “Because you were so pale?”
Her mother nodded. “I was anemic, too. Young and healthy though I was, the pregnancy drained me and I looked deathly pale. It wasn’t a severe case, just enough for me to need a prescription for iron tablets.” She didn’t say anything else, didn’t press Maryellen or throw questions at her. Instead she waited.
“Then you know,” Maryellen said after a moment, fighting hard not to weep openly in public.
“The father?”
“Out of the picture,” she said, not wanting to mention Jon’s name.
“Oh, Maryellen…”
“I’ll be fine,” she said, putting on a brave front, “really I will. Mom, I’m almost thirty-six years old. I can take care of myself.”
“But…”
“It took some adjusting, but now that I’ve accepted this, I’m happy.” The joy was decidedly absent at the moment with tears making wet tracks down her cheeks.
“We always had this connection, Maryellen,” her mother said. “I knew. Somehow I knew.”
“We didn’t always, Mom.”
Grace looked up at her. “What do you mean?”
“If we had this special connection fifteen years ago, you would’ve known then, too.”
Her mother stared at her with wide, disbelieving eyes.
There, it was out—a piece of the truth that she’d assumed would remain forever buried. Her sin, her pain, the guilt she’d carried with her for all these years.
“You were pregnant before?”
The lump in her throat was so big, she could only answer with a nod.
“Leave it to you to wait until the last minute to put up a tree,” Olivia teased Jack as he took the first package of decorative balls from a shopping bag. Actually, Olivia thought it was rather a sweet gesture on Jack’s part. Eric had briefly moved out but was back, much to Jack’s relief. He’d bought the Christmas tree in an effort to lift his son’s spirits over the holidays and Olivia had agreed to help him decorate it. This had entailed buying lights and decorations, since Jack hadn’t bothered much with Christmas since his divorce.
Eric had grown progressively more depressed at the approach of Christmas. Jack had done what he could to pull his son out of his melancholy but to no avail. Two days before Christmas, he invited Olivia over to decorate a Christmas tree while Eric was out. They hoped the surprise would jolt him into a more cheerful frame of mind.
“I kind of like this pitiful tree,” Jack said, stepping back to examine it. The branches all seemed to be bunched on one side, while the other side was almost bare.
“It’s a Charlie Brown tree for sure.” In Olivia’s opinion, this was the sorriest-looking evergreen in the lot, but she agreed it held a certain appeal. She’d brought some leftover ornaments, along with a CD of Christmas music, and they were in business.
Andy Williams’s voice crooned as a small fire blazed in the fireplace. “So?” Jack asked, rearranging the string of twinkling white lights. “Are you doing anything special after this?”
“I was thinking I’d let you take me to dinner.”
“The Taco Shack?”
Olivia sighed. Nine times out of ten, that was the restaurant Jack chose. “Do they still owe you for advertising?”
“I can eat there for another twenty years.”
“I was afraid of that.”
Jack hung a plastic gingerbread man on a drooping tree limb. “You like Mexican food, don’t you?”
“Sure—but I enjoy the company more.”
Chuckling, Jack grabbed her around the waist, preparing to kiss her. Olivia certainly wasn’t objecting, but then the door opened and Jack stopped abruptly. He loosened his grip and Olivia nearly fell to the floor, catching herself just in time.
“Eric,” Jack said, sounding startled. “I didn’t expect you for a couple of hours.”
His son walked into the room, looking about as gloomy as a man can get. He didn’t appear to notice that Olivia and Jack had been in the middle of a kiss.
“You picked up the mail?”
Eric nodded.
“What happened?” Olivia asked. The boy seemed to be in shock.
Eric slouched forward and dropped the mail on the coffee table. “I heard from Shelly.”
“She wrote you?” Jack seemed encouraged by this development.
“No…” Eric covered his face with his hands. “She sent me a picture.”
“A picture?” Jack frowned. “Of what?”
“The baby,” Eric supplied. Then he straightened and looked them both full in the face. “Correction, babies. Shelly’s having twins.”
“Twins!” Jack fell back onto the sofa.
Eric reached for the top envelope and withdrew a folded paper. “See for yourself.”
Jack clambered to his feet. He took the paper and examined it, with Olivia glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, the fuzzy photograph revealed two distinct fetuses. They were positioned in such a way that it was easy to detect the sex. “Both boys from the look of it,” Jack announced.
“Shelly didn’t include a note with the ultrasound results?”
“No,” Eric said, “but when I got this, I thought we should talk, so I drove over to the apartment…”
“And?” Jack pressed.
Eric ran his hand over his face and didn’t seem to know where to start. “The thing is, I love Shelly. These last few months have been hell, the two of us being separated like this.”
“They’ve been hell for me, too,” Jack muttered, and Olivia elbowed him in the ribs.
“Did you have the chance to talk to Shelly?” she asked sympathetically.
“I told her the truth,” Eric said. “I love her, I’ve always loved her. I don’t care if the baby—the babies are mine or not, I want to be with her.” He rubbed his face a second time and Olivia thought he might break into tears. “I can’t do any better than that, can I? I’ve already given her my heart. I offered her my forgiveness, too. What more can I do?”
Olivia groaned. “She doesn’t need your forgiveness, Eric.”
“They can’t be my babies,” Eric cried. “But I’m willing to make them mine, if she’d let me.”
“She refused?” Jack was clearly outraged. “The woman needs to see a shrink! You both do.”
“Jack!” His son didn’t need chastisement now; he was already depressed. It wouldn’t help to heap more blame and censure on his burdened shoulders.
“Shelly wouldn’t talk to me. She threw me out.”
“Of your own home?” Jack was practically growling. “The woman is a fruitcake!”
“Jack!” Olivia elbowed him again. He was making matters worse instead of better. “Let the boy tell us in his own way.”
“Sorry,” Jack said, although he didn’t sound it.
“I went to talk things over with Shelly. I wanted her to know that I don’t care who the father is. Me, this new guy she works with or some man on the street.” His face hardened, and while he might be saying the words, Olivia found it difficult to believe them.
“And she threw you out?” Again it was Jack whose voice rose in disbelief.
“Shelly was crying too hard for me to hear what she said, but she made one thing plain,” Eric murmured. “She wanted me out of there.”
“Women,” Jack muttered. “Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.”
“Would you stop,” Olivia demanded. “Cut the clichés and the unhelpful comments, okay?”
Jack cast her an apologetic look.
“Shelly said it would be best if I was completely out of her life.” Eric spoke in dull tones, and his misery was breaking Olivia’s heart.
“What about the babies?” she asked.
“She said…it’s too late.”
“Too late? What did she mean by that?” Jack shouted.
“She doesn’t want anything more to do with me.” He seemed even closer to tears. “At least, I think that’s what she said.”
“She might’ve been saying something else,” Jack said desperately. “Maybe you didn’t understand….”
“I understood the door she slammed in my face,” Eric told him. “It’s over for us, I know that now.”
“Let’s not be hasty,” Jack said. “Let’s—”
“Eric, sit down,” Olivia instructed, ignoring Jack. “I’m going to make a pot of coffee, and then the three of us are going to discuss this.”
“What’s there to discuss?” Eric asked, shrugging hopelessly.
“Quite a bit, actually, because those babies are going to need their daddy and—” she paused and stared pointedly at Jack “—their grandfather, too.”
“What more can I do?” Eric asked again, following Olivia into the kitchen.
“Don’t worry,” she said confidently, gathering him close. “Life has a way of turning out for the best. If your mother was here instead of in Kansas City, she’d tell you the same thing. It’s painful just now, but be patient. Shelly will eventually reach out to you. She needs you, Eric, and she wants you back in her life.”
“You think so?” His eagerness to believe, made his expression—so vulnerable and expectant—almost painful to watch.
“I do.” Olivia nodded, sincere in what she said to him. In her experience, a woman didn’t maintain as much contact as Shelly had—dinner with Jack, sending the ultrasound pictures—if she wanted to sever all relations with a man. The things she’d said to Jack, suggesting that she and Eric would see each other after the birth, struck Olivia as promising, too.
“Really?” Jack asked. “How long do you think it’ll take?”
“Yeah,” Eric echoed. “How long?”
“That I can’t answer,” she said and wanted to kick Jack for bringing it up.
“You’re a very wise person, aren’t you?” Eric said, looking at her in admiration. He finally seemed to relax a little.
“She’s great,” Jack agreed.
“Now, how about helping us decorate this Charlie Brown Christmas tree?” Olivia urged.
Eric hesitated and then gave her a huge grin. “Okay!”
In her heart of hearts, Olivia was convinced that everything would work out for Shelly, Eric and the twins—no matter who their father was.