Read Promise Me A Rainbow Online
Authors: Cheryl Reavi
“What is it? Are you sick?” he whispered urgently. “Tell me!”
“Oh, God, Joe,” she said, every bit of the misery she was feeling evident in her voice.
“Catherine, tell me!”
“I’m pregnant, Joe. I’m pregnant!”
Pregnant! Pregnant!
He understood her. He understood perfectly. A rash of questions flooded his brain and every damn one of them wrong.
Are you sure?
Of course she’s
sure
, dumb-ass! Would she be crying like this if she wasn’t sure?
How can you be pregnant!
Oh, hell, he knew
how
. He’d enjoyed every second of the
how
. Even a dumb-ass like him could figure that out.
Is it mine?
No—God, no, don’t say that!
Please don’t let me say the wrong thing!
She leaned back to look at him, hitting him once in the chest with her fist. “
Say
something!” she whispered fiercely.
She wasn’t being fair about this, and he thought she knew it. Sudden, impending fatherhood wasn’t the kind of news a man could take in all at once, especially in the middle of a hospital lobby.
He said the only thing left in his mind. “I love you, Catherine.”
But apparently that was the wrong thing, too. She covered her eyes with her hand and cried harder.
He realized that people were looking at them. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said, putting his arm around her and walking her outside. She held her head down and was still crying. Other people were coming into the hospital, and they stared at both of them curiously. “My truck’s down here. How were you going to get home? Did you call a cab?”
She shook her head. “I . . . bought . . . a car.”
A car?
he thought. Damn, she was full of news tonight.
He stopped walking and put his arms around her, holding her, just holding her and not caring that they were clearly visible under the lights in the parking lot. “Don’t cry,” he said. “We’re going to work this out.” The night was cold, and the words came out in white clouds.
“I don’t want to work it out,” he thought she said.
He kissed her cheek, her neck.
Don’t cry, baby. Don’t—
“I don’t want to work it out,” she said quite clearly.
He held her away from him so he could see her face. “What do you mean, you don’t want to work it out?” For a split second he thought she meant an abortion or something crazy like that.
“I don’t want anything from you.”
“Well, that’s tough, Catherine. This is my baby, too. You can’t expect me just to do nothing.”
My baby, too
. He realized as he said it how quickly he’d come from total disbelief to total acceptance. He loved her—and she was having his kid.
“That’s exactly what I expect you to do,” she said, finding that calm voice he hated. “Nothing.”
“I love you,” he told her again. “Did you hear me say that? I love you!”
“Well, I love you, too,” she said, as if that had absolutely nothing to do with what they were talking about.
“Catherine, this is making me crazy here—”
“Me, too, Joe! Don’t you understand? I’m so . . . tired. I’m upset! I just can’t take any more. This baby is important to me. I don’t want anything to happen to it. I can’t take any more!” She was crying again.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
“I’ve got . . . a car here.”
“I’m not letting you drive yourself home, damn it. You just said you were upset! We’ll get your car later.”
“Joe—”
“Catherine, please. You’re pregnant. Don’t make me pick you up and carry you.”
He hurried her along the rest of the way, and he opened the door for her to get into the truck, breathing a sigh of relief when she did.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked when he got in on the other side. She sat forlornly on the seat—as far away from him as she could get.
“What?” she asked, sniffing loudly.
“You love me or don’t you?” He started the truck and pulled out into the street. He could feel her looking at him, and he was thankful that he had something to do while he waited for her to answer.
“You . . . represent a lot of problems,” she said vaguely.
“Do you or don’t you!”
“Yes. But I can’t cope with all the problems you represent, Joe. I told you. I don’t want anything to happen to this baby.”
“Is that why you’re running yourself to death going to the hospital to see Pat? Mrs. Donovan said you weren’t taking care of yourself.”
“Pat asked for me, Joe. I had to go.”
“Yeah, you had to go. And look at you—”
“Don’t tell me I look like hell!”
“You don’t look like hell,” he said gently. “You look beautiful. You also look worn-out. Catherine—”
“Joe, I know how important your children are to you. Your first responsibility is to the ones you already have. You’re going to have to trust me with this one. I’ll love this child—I already do. And I’ll take care of it. By myself. Do you understand? By myself!”
Joe made himself keep quiet. He understood. She was exhausted, and she was pregnant. He still wanted to shake her. But he understood.
“I’m going to take you home,” he said, and she nodded. It was several blocks before she realized that it was
his
home he meant.
“Joe—”
“Catherine, you’re going to have to humor me with this. I’m worried about you. You had to go home sick today.”
“I went home pregnant today. There’s a difference.”
He reached to take her hand. “I want you to eat something, and then I want you to lie down for a while. And when you feel better, we’ll talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“I think there is. If you don’t have anything to say, then you can listen. I have enough to talk about for the both of us. Catherine, don’t fight me on this. Just come home with me. Fritz is there. She’s missed you. If you won’t do it for me, do it for her—and for the baby you’re carrying. Let me look after you for just a little while. Please.”
“What about Della?”
“Della’s spending the night with some girlfriends—a birthday sleepover.”
She looked at him and then back at the passing scenery, and he had the feeling that he hadn’t answered her question.
“Catherine, Della knows how I feel about you. She knows I haven’t changed just because she left home. You said just now I had to trust you to take care of the baby that’s coming. Well, you have to trust me to know what to do about Della.”
She was silent for a long time. “All right,” she said finally. He barely heard her, but he didn’t ask her to repeat it on the off chance that he’d misunderstood.
He kept glancing at her as he drove. She looked so . . . defeated, as if she’d given in simply because she didn’t have the strength to resist anymore. He hadn’t meant to bully her, but he wasn’t about to dump her at the Mayfair and just go home. They had a problem, and they were going to work on it together.
“I forgot it was so close to Christmas,” she said when he turned down his street. Nearly every house had Christmas lights burning outside.
“Wait until you see the D’Amaros’,” he said. “Fritz went wild.” He squeezed her cold fingers, feeling her tenseness. He didn’t want her to be so upset and worried. Everything would be all right. It had to be.
“They’re nice,” she said of the lights when he pulled into the driveway.
“Anything that doesn’t move, Fritz wants lights on it, so don’t stand in one place too long, especially if you’re in the front yard.”
She smiled, not the best attempt he’d ever seen but not too bad.
“Wait,” he said when she started to get out of the truck. “Come here just for a minute.” He put his arms around her, pulling her closer to him. He didn’t hold her tightly; she could get away from him if she wanted. But, thank God, she didn’t seem to want to.
“You’re not going to forget what you promised me, are you?”
“Joe—”
“No, now you promised me you wouldn’t give up. I’m holding you to it.” He gave her a gentle hug. “Let’s go. I see Fritz peeking out the window.”
He walked with her across the yard, guiding her in the dark on the safest route to the back door. Fritz opened the door for them, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Catherine. She stood in the doorway, unsure of what she should do.
“Hey,” Joe said kindly. “You going to let us in or are you going to be like Mrs. Donovan and make us show you our driver’s licenses?”
She giggled and stepped back. “I’m surprised, Joe!”
He grinned and ruffled her hair. “Yeah, I can tell. Where’s your brother?”
“Computering,” Fritz said. She still couldn’t believe her eyes. Joe had brought Catherine. It wasn’t even Christmas, and this was the best Christmas present ever!
“Give me your coat,” Joe said to Catherine.
“I can hang it up,” Fritz offered, taking Catherine’s coat and hanging it on a hanger in the hall closet. She had a little trouble getting the hanger hooked, but she managed. When she came back into the kitchen, Catherine was still standing in the same place. Fritz looked at her closely, her stomach getting a sinking kind of feeling she recognized at once. It was the very worst kind of feeling, the kind for no reason, only there was a reason somewhere, and that reason was going to make everybody feel bad.
“Well,” Joe said brightly. “Catherine, you sit down here, and Fritz and I will fix you something to eat.”
“I’m not really hungry,” Catherine said.
“Just a little something. You’ll feel better.”
Fritz looked from one adult to the other. Something was wrong, all right. Catherine looked like she wanted to cry, and Joe wasn’t acting like himself at all.
“I can make toast,” she offered, and they both looked at her in relief.
“That sounds like a good idea, Fritz. Catherine, what do you think?” Joe looked into Catherine’s eyes, and Fritz could see what else he wanted to tell her but didn’t.
Please.
She thought Catherine saw it, too.
“Yes,” Catherine said, reaching out to rest her hand on Fritz’s shoulder. “That would be just the thing.”
“Sit down, Catherine,” Joe said again. This time he pulled out a chair.
Catherine sat down, but Fritz didn’t think she wanted to very much.
Fritz went to the sink and carefully washed her hands the way Joe had taught her, and then she got the bread for the toaster. She kept casting furtive glances at Joe and Catherine. Joe reached out once to touch Catherine’s face, and Fritz thought that Catherine was going to cry for sure.
She didn’t want Catherine to cry. She made the very best toast she knew how to make, cutting it carefully from one corner to the other and putting the butter on just right—not too juicy, not too dry.
“Thank you, Fritz,” Catherine said, giving her a small hug when she put the plate with the toast on the table in front of her. “This is just what I need.”
Fritz gave a small sigh and stepped back, looking at Joe for some kind of explanation for this worried feeling she was having. It was getting worse and worse. She had felt Catherine trembling when she’d given her the hug, trembling like she was cold or scared.
“Catherine has a friend who’s very sick,” Joe said. “She’s in the hospital. Catherine’s been staying with her this evening, and she’s tired.”
“Oh,” Fritz said, wondering why knowing this didn’t make her feel any less worried.