You're My Baby. Laura Abbot
from him. “Two times in one day. That must be something of a record for you.”
“Probably, but who’s counting?”
“I promise not to make it three.”
“Sure? Third time’s the charm, you know.”
“There isn’t any charm to help with this.”
What did a guy say to that? He led her back to the couch, then wrapped a purple mohair throw around her. “Sit down and let me fix you a cup of tea. That was my mother’s solution to everything.”
“It can’t hurt. Tea’s on the top shelf of the pantry.” Almost without seeming to notice what she was doing, she picked up the baby book but didn’t open it, her fingers tracing a path around the edges of the cover.
While he waited for the water to boil, Grant paced, considering his options. Should he keep his big mouth shut? Or ask the tough questions? Like where the father was. Who he was. There had to be a rational explanation for this bombshell. He was no dummy, he’d read about the biological clock. Maybe she’d deliberately gotten pregnant. But then what about her job? Talk about an awkward, potentially litigious situation.
The whistling kettle startled him. He was in way over his head. He hadn’t a clue how to help her.
When he presented her with the steaming cup of tea, she took two dainty sips before setting it on the antique trunk that served as a coffee table. Then she gave him a wan smile. “Your mother was right.”
Holding his cup and saucer carefully, he lowered himself into the easy chair. And waited. A car horn sounded outside; inside, the ticking of a wall clock created a hypnotic rhythm. The bigger cat, a black one with white spots, leaped from the window ledge and hopped into Pam’s lap and curled into a ball.
“Who’s your buddy?”
“This is Sebastian.” She nodded toward the window. “And that’s Viola. They were littermates.”
Cat names had always struck him as pretentious. He was a dog man himself. Dogs had forthright names like Buster and Max. “Where’d you get those handles?”
“The bard. Viola and Sebastian are the sister and brother in Twelfth Night.”
“Oh.” Shakespeare. It figured. If he ever had a cat, God forbid, did that mean he should call it Euclid?
They sat in silence, slowly drinking the tea. She appeared lost in thought, but finally looked up. “I’m scared.”
That was an admission he’d never have anticipated from the Pam Carver he knew. “You don’t need to tell me, if—”
“It’s time I talked to somebody, and it looks like you’re elected.”
“You can trust me, Pam.”
“I do.”
Her sincerity touched him. “Is there a man in the picture? Are you planning to marry?”
“No man.” Then she gave a short, derisive laugh. “Obviously there was one. But marriage isn’t an option.”
Grant was confused by his reaction. How could he be relieved to hear that? “Does he know?”
“No. And he’s not going to.”
“Is that fair? Maybe he would want to be involved. Help.”
“Please.” Her eyes begged. “You’ll have to take my word for it. I’m in this by myself. For good.”
The enormity of her predicament was hard to imagine. “It’ll be tough being a single mother. I’m sure you’ve thought of that. Have you considered…you know…?”
Her cheeks flamed. “That’s not an option. I want this baby very much. This may be my only chance to become a mother. You’ve surely noticed I’m not getting any younger.” The edge in her voice cut off any inept, glib response. “So I simply have to figure out where to go from here.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“No. And I don’t plan for them to until it has to come out.” She drew the throw closer around her shoulders. “I’ll have to resign then.”
That would really be a blow for her. She was a born teacher, but schools—especially private schools—couldn’t overlook what might be viewed as “immoral” behavior. And Keystone? For the second time that day, the school motto came to him. Caring, Character, Curiosity. Jim Campbell, the headmaster, was big on character, but even if he found a way to ease Pam’s situation, would the trustees go for an unmarried, pregnant English department chairman? Pam was in a no-win situation. “Jeez, I suppose you’re right. What then?”
She looked directly at him. “I don’t know. I wish I did.” She crossed her arms over her stomach, as if protecting her womb. “But I’ll tell you one thing.” Her voice held the old spark. “I will do whatever I must to love and support this baby.”
“You’ve got guts.” Pam had always been a fighter. She’d need to be now.
“I figure I’ll be able to make it at school until Thanksgiving, at least. That should give me time to line up some other type of work.”
“Have you seen a doctor?”
“I’m not very far along. Except for morning sickness, I feel fine. I’ll try to locate a doctor this week. One that has nothing to do with Keystone School.” She reached for her cup, then took several sips. “I’m sorry to burden you with this.”
He rose to his feet. “It’s no burden.” He picked up his cup and saucer and carried them to the kitchen divider, then returned to her. “You’re brave. You’ll manage.” He stood awkwardly, feeling helpless. “What about your family? Can they help?”
“Not really. My mother’s dead. My father and I are very close.” She ducked her head. “He’ll be disappointed in me at first.”
He waited.
Then she looked up. “But he’ll love this baby.”
“I’m sure he will. What about sisters? Brothers?”
“One sister. I can forget about any help from her.”
The uncharacteristic bitterness surprised him, especially in light of the bond he and his brother Brian had shared. “Why’s that?”
“We rarely see each other. I think it’s safe to say Barbara doesn’t have much use for me. She has her life in California with her dentist husband and her three children. For as long as I can remember, she’s made it clear I’m the baby sister who made her life miserable. Never mind that we’re grown-ups now. Supposedly.”
He identified with the hurt in her voice. He knew from his own father and from Shelley what rejection felt like.
She placed Sebastian gently on the floor and stood. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be alone now.”
Every instinct said, hug her, but instead he nodded his head. “I understand.”
She accompanied him to the door. “Thank you for coming. It helps just knowing I can talk to someone if I need to.”
He hesitated in the doorway, admiring the way she stood tall, determined, as if she could take on the world. “Call on me anytime if there’s something I can do.”
“I will.”
He studied her coppery hair, her wide hazel eyes, her full lips—as if he’d never seen them before. She was not only courageous, she was beautiful. “Good night,” he finally managed, turning to leave.
“Good night. And, Grant?”
He paused. “Yes?”
“The father is a good person. I knew what I was doing. But accidents happen.” She studied the floor and he knew she was going to say something