Nobody's Baby but Mine (19 page)

Once again he looked down at her and saw that a blond lock had escaped from her French braid and now curled in a figure eight over his zipper. He nearly groaned aloud. He’d been hard ever since he pushed her into his lap. Even earlier, if he counted that skirmish they’d had when they were lying on the ground at Annie’s. But instead of easing up, it was getting worse, and if she turned her head even a little bit, she’d see that his zipper wasn’t close to lying flat. No question about it. Fighting with the Professor had turned him on, and he was beginning to think it was time he did something about it. So far he’d had nothing but inconvenience from this marriage; it was about time he took advantage of its one convenience.

“Ouch! Damn it!” He snatched his hand away from her head and rubbed his thigh. “That’s twice now you bit me! Don’t you know that human saliva is a hundred times more dangerous than an animal’s?”

“I supposed you learned that while you were getting your
summa cum laude
degree in biology!” She struggled to sit back up and shoved her glasses on. “I hope you get gangrene and they do the amputation without anesthetic. And they use a chain saw!”

“I’m going to see if my house has an attic where I can lock you up, just like men used to do in the old days when they found out they were stuck with a crazy wife.”

“I’ll bet if I were eighteen instead of thirty-four, you wouldn’t be thinking about locking me up. You’d be stuffing me full of bubble gum and showing me off all over town! Now that I know you’re an intelligent man, your attraction to infants seems even more peculiar.”

“I am
not
attracted to infants!” He turned into the lane that led to the house.

“You certainly don’t seem very confident of your ability to handle a grown woman.”

“I swear, Jane— Damn!” He slammed on the brakes and reached over to push her back down on the seat, but he was too late. His father had already spotted her.

He cursed and reluctantly lowered the window. As he stopped his car well behind the muddy red Blazer, he called out, “What’s up, Dad?”

“What do you think is up? Open this damn gate and let me in!”

Great, he thought with disgust. This was just great, a perfect addition to a miserable day. He punched the button that controlled the gate, nodded at his father, and hit the accelerator, shooting past the Blazer too quickly for the old man to get a good look at Jane.

Those softer feelings he’d been experiencing toward her only moments earlier vanished. He didn’t want her meeting his parents. Period. He hoped it wouldn’t occur to his father to mention any of the activities that had been taking up so much of his time. The less Jane knew about his private life, the better he liked it.

“You follow my lead,” he said. “And whatever you do, don’t let him know you’re pregnant.”

“He’ll find out eventually.”

“We’re going to make it later. A lot later. And take off those damned
bifocals
!” They reached the house, and Cal hustled her inside before he went back out to greet his father.

Jane heard the door slam and knew he was upset. Good! Mr. Summa cum laude deserved to be upset. Biting her lip, she made her way to the kitchen. When she got there, she pressed her hand over her waist.
I’m sorry, little one. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.

She plucked a few shreds of dried leaves out of her messy hair. She should try to straighten herself up before Cal’s father came in, but she couldn’t summon the energy to do more than push her glasses up on her nose while she tried to figure out how she was going to raise a genius.

She heard Cal’s voice. “. . . and since Jane was feeling a lot better today, we went over to see Annie.”

“Seems if she was feelin’ better, you might have driven her into town to meet your parents.”

She dropped her Windbreaker on one of the counter stools and turned to face the men coming into the kitchen.

“Dad, I went over this with you and Mom last night at dinner. I explained . . .”

“Never mind.” Cal’s father stopped as he caught sight of her.

Her mental image of him as a jolly old man with a round belly and fringe of white hair had dissolved the instant she’d caught sight of him at the gate. Now she felt as if she were staring at an older version of Cal.

He was equally imposing—big, handsome, rugged—and he looked exactly right in his red flannel shirt, rumpled slacks, and scuffed leather boots. His thick dark hair, worn longer and shaggier than his son’s, had a few strands of silver, but he appeared to be no older than his early to midfifties, much too young and too good-looking to have a thirty-six-year-old son.

He took his time assessing her, and she didn’t have any difficulty recognizing that straight-on, no-holds-barred gaze as a mirror of his son’s. As she returned his scrutiny, she knew she would have to prove herself worthy. Still, he gave her a warm smile and extended his hand.

“I’m Jim Bonner. Glad we’re finally getting to meet.”

“Jane Darlington.”

His smile disappeared as his eyebrows slammed together. He released her hand. “Most women around here take their husband’s name when they get married.”

“I’m not from around here, and the name is Darlington. I’m also thirty-four years old.”

Behind her back, she heard a choking sound. Jim Bonner laughed. “You don’t say.”

“I certainly do. Thirty-four and getting older by the second.”

“That’s enough, Jane.” The warning note in Cal’s voice advised her not to reveal any more secrets, but he might not have spoken.

“You don’t look sick.”

“I’m not.” She felt something brush her back and realized she’d lost the elastic holding her French braid.

“She started feeling better a couple of hours ago,” Cal interjected. “Must not have been the flu after all.”

Jane turned far enough to give him a faintly pitying look—she wasn’t going to support him in his lies—but he pretended not to see.

Jim picked up an X-Man comic from the counter and regarded it quizzically. “Book-Of-The-Month-Club?”

“Jane reads them for relaxation. You want a beer, Dad?”

“No. I’m on my way to the hospital.”

Concern drove away the caustic remark Jane had been about to make regarding the comic. “Is something wrong?”

“How about a sandwich?” Cal said too quickly. “Jane, make Dad and me a couple of sandwiches.”

“I’ll be happy to make your father a sandwich. You can fix your own.”

Jim raised one eyebrow at his son in an expression Jane suspected meant something like,
After all these years, is this the best you could do for a wife?

She refused to be cowed. “Are you having some tests done? I hope you’re not ill.”

Cal shot forward. “You’ve got some dirt on your face, sweetheart, from that walk you took at Annie’s. Maybe you’d better go upstairs and get cleaned up.”

“There’s no big mystery about it,” Jim said. “I’m a doctor, and I have patients to visit.”

For a moment she couldn’t move as the magnitude of the mistake she’d made once again drove its way home. She whirled on Cal. “Your father’s a
doctor
? How many more family skeletons do you have locked up?”

Her own heart might be breaking, but he seemed amused. “I know you were hopin’ for a moonshiner, sweetheart, but I guess this just isn’t your lucky day. Although, come to think of it—Dad, didn’t you tell me your great-grampa had a still someplace up in the mountains?”

“That’s what my father told me.” Jim studied Jane. “Why do you care?”

Cal didn’t let her reply, which was a good thing, because the lump in her throat had grown too large to permit speech. “Jane’s sort of a hillbilly groupie. She’s a city girl herself, but she likes all that backwoods stuff, and she’s been real disappointed to find out we wear shoes.”

Jim smiled. “I guess I could take mine off.”

A woman’s voice, soft and Southern, sounded from the foyer. “Cal, where are you?”

He sighed. “In the kitchen, Mom.”

“I was passing by, and I saw the gate open.” Like Cal’s father, the woman who appeared in the doorway looked too young to have a thirty-six-year-old son, and she also seemed much too sophisticated to be the daughter of Annie Glide. Pretty, trim, and stylish, she wore her light brown hair in a short, trendy cut that curved behind her ears and emphasized a pair of clear blue eyes. Discreet frosting camouflaged whatever strands of gray had emerged. Her tall figure set off slim black trousers topped by a loosely cut fleece jacket in grape-colored wool with an abstract silver pin on the lapel. In comparison, Jane felt like a street urchin with her dirty face and leaf-flecked hair falling willy-nilly.

“You must be Jane.” She walked forward, one hand extended in welcome. “I’m Lynn Bonner.” Her greeting was warm, but as Jane took her hand, she received the impression of a deep reserve. “I hope you’re feeling better. Cal said you were under the weather.”

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“She’s thirty-four,” Jim announced from his spot next to the counter.

Lynn looked startled, and then she smiled. “I’m delighted.”

Jane found herself warming to Lynn Bonner. Jim sat down on one of the counter stools and stretched out his legs. “Cal said she’s a hillbilly groupie. She sure is gonna love you, Amber.”

Jane saw Cal shoot his father a puzzled look. She noted a faint trace of insolence in Jim Bonner’s tone that hadn’t been there before, but his wife showed no reaction. “I’m sure Cal told you we just got back from a combined vacation and medical conference. I was so sorry you weren’t feeling well enough to join us for dinner last night. We’ll make it up on Saturday. Jim, if it doesn’t rain, you can grill.”

Jim crossed his ankles. “Shoot, Amber, since Jane here likes hillbilly ways so much, why don’t you forget grilling and make her some of those Glide family specials. We could have beans and fatback, or how ’bout some of that souse like your mama used to fix. You ever eat souse, Jane?”

“No, I don’t believe I have.”

“I can’t imagine Jane wanting that,” Lynn said coolly. “Nobody eats souse anymore.”

“Maybe you could bring it back in fashion, Amber. You could tell all your ritzy friends about it next time you go to one of those big charity affairs in Asheville.”

Cal had been staring at his parents as if he’d never seen them before. “When did you start calling Mom Amber?”

“It’s her name,” Jim replied.

“Annie uses it, but I’ve never heard you do it.”

“Who says people have to keep doing things the same way?”

Cal glanced toward his mother, but she made no comment. Clearly uncomfortable, he turned away and once again opened the refrigerator door. “Are you sure nobody wants a sandwich? How about you, Mom?”

“No, thanks.”

“Souse is part of the Glide family heritage,” Jim said, unwilling to give up that particular avenue of conversation. “You haven’t forgotten about that, have you, Amber?” He stabbed his wife with eyes so remote that Jane experienced a surge of sympathy for Cal’s mother. She knew exactly how it felt to be on the receiving end of a gaze like that. Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Jane. “Souse is like sausage, Jane, but it’s made from a hog’s head, minus the eyeballs.”

Lynn smiled a bit stiffly. “It’s disgusting. I don’t know why my mother ever made it. I just talked to her on the cell phone; that’s how I knew you were feeling better. She seems to have taken to you, Jane.”

“I like her.” Jane was as anxious to change the subject as her new mother-in-law. Not only were the undercurrents of tension between Cal’s parents disconcerting, but her stomach hadn’t been entirely predictable lately, and she didn’t want to take any chances with a discussion of eyeballs and a hog’s head.

“Cal told us you’re a physicist,” Lynn said. “I’m so impressed.”

Jim rose from the stool. “My wife didn’t graduate from high school, so she sometimes gets intimidated when she meets people with advanced degrees.”

Lynn didn’t seem at all intimidated, and Jane found herself beginning to dislike Jim Bonner for his not-so-subtle put-downs. His wife might be willing to ignore his behavior, but she wasn’t. “There certainly isn’t any reason to be intimidated,” she said evenly. “Some of the most foolish people I know have advanced degrees. But why am I telling you this, Dr. Bonner? I’m sure you’ve observed the same thing firsthand.”

To her surprise, he smiled. Then he slipped his hand inside the back of his wife’s coat collar and rubbed her neck with the familiarity of someone who’d been doing exactly that for nearly four decades. The intimacy of the gesture made Jane realize she’d stepped into water far too deep for her, and she wished she’d kept her mouth shut. Whatever marital disharmony was going on between them had undoubtedly been going on for years, and it was none of her business. She had enough of her own marital disharmony to worry about.

Jim stepped away from his wife. “I’ve got to get going, or I’ll be late for my rounds.” He turned to Jane and gave her arm a friendly squeeze, then smiled at his son. “It was nice meeting you, Jane. See you tomorrow, Cal.” His affection for Cal was obvious, but as Jim left the kitchen, she noticed that he didn’t so much as glance at his wife.

Cal set a package of sandwich meat and cheese on the counter. As they heard the sound of the front door closing, he gazed at his mother.

She regarded him with perfect equanimity, and Jane noticed the invisible “No Trespassing” sign she had been wearing disappeared now that her husband had gone.

He looked troubled. “Why’s Dad calling you Amber? I don’t like it.”

“Then you’ll have to speak with him about it, won’t you?” She smiled at Jane. “Knowing Cal, he won’t think to take you any place but the Mountaineer. If you’d like to see some of the local shops, I’d be happy to show you around. We could have lunch afterward.”

“Oh, I’d love that.”

Cal stepped forward. “Now, Jane, you don’t have to be polite. Mom’s understanding.” He slipped his arm around his mother’s shoulders. “Jane can’t spare any time from her research right now, but she doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. She’s saying yes when she really wants to say no.”

“I understand completely.” Lynn’s expression said she didn’t understand at all. “Of course, your work is more important than socializing. Forget I said anything.”