Wrecked (Stories of Serendipity #8): #8 (29 page)

He didn’t let go of her fingers as they walked through the maze of hallways to the small room where they sat in chairs side by side. Once seated, he squeezed her hand and dropped it. Renae suppressed a shiver. The loss of contact with him left her chilled.

They waited in silence for several more minutes, which seemed like an hour. Silence that Renae couldn’t break at this point. There were so many things she wanted to say, ‘I’m sorry’ being the biggest. But the words didn’t come. Each time she opened her mouth to speak them, her throat closed up, and she would just shut her mouth again.

Would she spend the rest of her life apologizing to this man?

The doctor finally came in, a gentleman not much older than Jason, clean-cut and efficient looking.

“Ms. Stanford, the results of the amniocentesis came back, showing the triple-screen held a false positive. Everything is perfectly normal with the baby.”

The whooshing noise that came from Jason would have been comical under any other circumstances. But as it was, Renae felt the same sense of relief. Not that she would have done anything about any abnormalities. She was aware that the tests were done early enough in the pregnancy for termination to be possible, but she couldn’t ever do that. She could only prepare herself mentally for a life with a special-needs baby. But now she knew she didn’t even have to do that.

The rest of the appointment passed in a blur of relief. She peed in her cup, the doctor listened to the heartbeat, Jason asked questions about some birthing plan that Renae had yet to make up. All while she swallowed back tears of gratitude and frustration — gratitude her baby was going to be fine and frustration she didn’t know what to do about Jason.

He hadn’t looked at her more than necessary during the entire appointment, and hadn’t spoken to her at all.

And she deserved it.

Chapter 30

A
bsence makes the heart grow fonder or something like that. Renae had to remind herself she wasn’t crazy after Jason left when she suddenly couldn’t function. This was a normal phenomenon or else there wouldn’t be an adage about it.

She could blame it on the hormones, but every single thought of Jason made her cry. In fact, she couldn’t even walk by his room anymore. It had been weeks since he’d gone, weeks since the doctor’s appointment, weeks since she’d told herself she could do this.

A knock at the door bled through her Enya CD, but she ignored it. It was her day off, and she actually wanted to be alone. The knocking stopped, and Renae pulled her bathrobe tighter with a satisfied grunt. She needed a new one. Her belly was getting too big for this one.

She had the money now. The baseball card sat in a safety deposit box, waiting for her to call the guy, Mark Donovan. If she sold it, she could buy a new car, house, wardrobe, furniture, and pay for both kids’ educations. But she didn’t need any of those things right now. Dalton’s voice in the relative silence of her house made her jump.

“How’s my favorite sister?”

“Actually enjoying alone time for once,” she lied effortlessly.

“I call Bullshit.”

“Well, you can call BS if you’d like, but I’m alone now, and I enjoy it.” She performed a little hula dance in her bathrobe for Dalton before sitting on her couch, eyebrows daring him to say something.

“Mom wants you to go to church on Sunday, and I’m begging you to come. I’ve been going in your stead, but honestly. She’s a menace, her whisper is twelve decibels loud, the choir can hear her whispers in my ear about other people. I don’t see how you stand it.”

“She doesn’t feel the need to gossip to me because I go there regularly and presumably know everything she does.”

“So you’ll come back tomorrow so I can have a lazy Sunday morning with my wife and kids?”

“Is he there?”

“Yes, of course he’s there. He understands the responsibilities of the oldest child. He takes his dad to church, unlike someone I know.” Dalton quipped.

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“What did he do that you can’t stand to look at him? Do I need to meet him in a dark alley somewhere?”

“No.” She dropped her face in her hands. “Why can’t real life be like a romance novel? Where every conflict is crystal clear for all the world to see?”

“Like, if he was trying force you to sell him the ancestral home so he could build a parking garage?”

The wry smile felt foreign on her face. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking again, what is the conflict?”

“He wants to get married.”

A deep belly laugh bubbled up from Dalton, and Renae stood. “You can let yourself out. Lock up when you’re done laughing at my completely justifiable feelings.” She started to walk away, but Dalton grabbed the hem of her robe and pulled her back to the couch.

“Not so fast. I’m sorry.” He schooled his features, but she could still see the mirth in his steely gray eyes. “Tell me. Why don’t you want to marry him? Too soon? No feelings for him? The sex isn’t any good? He’s gassy? Hates kittens?”

“No. I don’t want to marry him just to give the baby a father. Besides, there’s more. Les proposed to me the same day.”

He swiped a hand across his face. “Well, that explains why he’s been a total pussy the last couple of weeks. What happened?”

“Jason was here, and heard the whole thing. And when I told him I was thinking about it, Jason left. He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“And?”

“He acted like he really liked me, like he was in love with me. But he never said the words. Marriage and a relationship weren’t part of my plan.”

“Was the baby part of your plan?”

She squirmed on the couch. “No.”

“Did you get rid of it to go along with your plan?”

The anger flooded her at his words. “You know good and well I didn’t.”

“Well, Sis. Things change, and we have to adapt.”

“I know, but things were going along too fast. I couldn’t keep up with everything.”

“Life is a ride, Renae. You hang on and see where it takes you. You don’t often get to dictate what happens.” He leaned closer to her. “Do you remember how you felt after Kelly left? You couldn’t stand to be by yourself, and that messed up your plans to be alone?” She nodded, sheepishly. “Maybe God was answering a prayer with all of this. Now you don’t have to be alone. You just need to have the faith that everything will work out all right.”

“But I had the faith everything would be all right before. And it didn’t work out.”

“Are you talking about Cody?” She nodded again. “Sugar, everything worked out all right. Who’s to say if Cody had lived, Kelly would have thrived in a two-parent household with a son of a bitch father who controlled and cheated on her mother? Would that have been better? She would have either seen you guys get a divorce, or she would have seen a mother with a broken spirit, staying with a man who didn’t respect her. Cody’s death took all that out of the equation.”

Renae was mute, unable to respond to that.

“I’m not trying to speak ill of the dead, but that was sixteen years ago. You’ve moved on and raised your daughter well. You’ve done nothing wrong. Now it’s time to take the next curve ball life has thrown at you and hit it out of the park. At least go talk to Jason. He’s not looking good.”

The words pricked something inside her, and she caught herself sitting up alertly. “Really? Like how?”

Dalton chuckled. “He doesn’t look like he’s slept in a month, and he stares like a damn puppy dog at Mom’s pew in church, willing you to be there. He asks about you constantly.” He affected a lisp, “And his hair? Girl!”

Renae smiled sadly to herself.

“I don’t trust him.”

“Don’t trust him to what?”

“Not leave me.” There. She’d said it out loud. And it sounded ridiculous even to her own ears. “And besides, he’s still really pissed at me about Les.”

“Well, that’s what relationships are about. I get you’ve only had the one, so let me school you. Lean back.” He crossed his legs, getting comfortable. “When you start a new relationship, you just enjoy yourself, the feelings of newness, the way the other person makes you feel, I feel like Oprah. I need one of those clip on microphone thingies.” He pulled his shirt away to demonstrate.

“As you learn about each other and get to know each other you discover things that draw you closer or push each other apart. That’s the getting to know you phase.” He stopped again. “Seriously, I feel like a fucking girl talking to you about all this.”

“Shut up and go on.”

“Okay, when two people decide that they know enough about each other, that they’re comfortable together, and they are compatible enough to help each other through life’s uncertainties together, they decide to commit to each other. He’s there, Renae. He’s gotten to that point. I don’t know his history with relationships, don’t know if he’s been divorced, is a serial lover, or what, but he’s gotten there with you. He wants to be with you conquering everything life has to throw at you.”

“What if I’m not ready?”

“What did you say to Les?” Renae shook her head. “Okay. Then go talk to Jason and tell him that. A guy can only take so much. It isn’t fair especially if you have feelings for him. And I can tell by the stylin’ bathrobe at two in the afternoon that you do. Give him a chance to get un-pissed at you.”

Dalton pulled her into a sideways hug, and Renae cherished the brotherly warmth that flowed from him. “Okay, I’ll go talk to him.”

“Cool. He’s at the shop this afternoon.”

“Did you cook this up with him?”

“No, but he invited me over for a couple of beers later. I think he wants to pump me for information on you and the baby. How’s it doing by the way?”

“Fine. I’d call you guys if something was wrong.”

“I figured as much. I gotta go home and take the kids fishing. I’ve been promising forever, and Alyssa wants some quiet time. The weather is nice today, I might as well.”

“I haven’t even been outside today.”

“Get your ass in the shower and go outside.”

“I will. Go home to your family. Tell Alyssa I said hi, and kiss the kids for me.”

After Dalton left, Renae stood in the shower, letting the hot water cleanse her. As she soaped up, a plan began to form in her mind. Rubbing her cinnamon scented lotion over her body, it cemented itself. After she pulled on the only dress she had that still fit her, she called the bank manager.

“Mr. Wills? Is there any way you can meet me at the bank so I can get something out of my safety deposit box? It’s sort of an emergency.”

“Will it make you sleep better at night? I’m considering taking you off the drawers for a while. Your inaccuracy rate has gotten alarming, either that or you’re embezzling.”

Chapter 31

J
ason was rambling around the shop, hoping Dalton was just having a long lunch with his mom. He really needed to talk to him about Renae. He knew he was being pathetic, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to know how she was doing, if there were any problems with the baby, if there was a chance she would ever talk to him again.

Last night had not gone well. He’d finally agreed to play with Les at the Gin but not until Les told him Renae had turned down his proposal. Jason couldn’t stop the relief flooding through him, but he couldn’t bring himself to just call her without some sort of sign that she was willing.

So he’d agreed to play with Les but hadn’t been able to perform well at all. First of all, he couldn’t get his horn in tune with Les. Then he hadn’t managed to make it through a single song without fucking up somehow. He’d either missed notes, or his fingers slipped, or he squawked like a junior high player. Once he missed his entrance, and another time he’d skipped a chorus altogether. His head hadn’t been in the game, and he’d bowed out after the first set, utterly embarrassed.

Jason had spent the last week moving his dad’s meager possessions, along with his own, into Mary’s old house with gobs of room to spare. It was depressing that it would just be the two of them there as it was an old sprawling ranch house on several acres of land. Dalton was their closest neighbor a half a mile away, and he ran the cattle that lowed in the distance. It was a great house, but it needed more people in it. Jason could see why Mary didn’t want to live there alone anymore. It needed a family.

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