explosion, he sighed heavily and shook his head. “Some things are hard to fix.”
True to who she was, Dorothea Anders Quick asked, “Does this involve NIGHTWIND in any way?”
Always the professional.
“Absolutely not. I wouldn’t do that, Dottie. This is,” he groaned, searched for the right word, found only one, and grimaced, “Personal.”
Her reaction forced him to do a double take as she gawked at him with wide eyes.
“What?” The intensity in her voice was obvious. “I didn’t think you even knew that word.”
“Yes, well, that may explain why I’m still trying to fix something that happened nine months ago.”
He’d already said too much. She must have read his concern, he was sure it was written all over his face, and to her credit, backed off.
Dottie was a Kenny Rogers fan. She always knew when to hold and when to fold.
“This should go without saying, but you do know I’m Team Arnie. Anything you need.”
She put a hand on his arm and squeezed. Then without another word, she turned and left him alone with his thoughts and a fat lip.
Summer awoke feeling achy and stiff. Her head was foggy, and she had a strong urge to cry.
Struggling like a turtle on its back, she wiggled and scooted to the edge of the mattress. Hooking her legs over the side and using the covers as a towrope, she managed to sit.
Everything ached. Her hair. Her skin. Her bones. Her muscles. Everything.
A rushing onslaught of tears was not cathartic or cleansing. In fact, each whimper and sob made her feel worse.
Motherhood was not for the weak. With her due date so close, she didn’t have the luxury of time to fall apart. Her only option was the stiffest of upper lips and secretly crossed fingers.
Nobody was going to ride in at the last minute. She didn’t have a white knight or a rescuer waiting in the wings to save her, and crying about it wasn’t going to change a goddamn thing.
She had to figure it out by herself. This was a solo flight with no first mate by her side.
Shuffling from the bedroom, she moved through the apartment using furniture and walls as aids. It took forever to make it to the bathroom.
Nothing was easy or simple. Pulling her sundress up took effort. Wiggling out of her under-the-bump panties took even more. Exhausted, with pink cotton down around her ankles, she squatted inelegantly and peed a river.
Standing and pulling her panties up nearly wiped her out.
In the living room, she rested a hand on her tummy and stared out the windows into the backyard. It was quiet and dark. The pool lights were on a timer. They’d go off at eleven. Solar light pagodas hung from garden stakes, illuminating the pool patio. The setting was calm and pleasant.
Settling into her spot on the sofa, she was rearranging pillows when her eyes landed on the tabletop shadow box she made from a kit. The project turned out to be fun, and the result exceeded her expectations.
Stretching to reach it, she maneuvered the box closer and studied the objects inside. The treasure memories from the day she and Arnie hiked into the Santa Barbara mountains rested on a cloud of aqua-colored velvet reminiscent of the ocean.
Happy memories stirred before Tinker Belly disturbed her reverie with a jarring kick. Gasping, she rubbed her belly just as a bolt of truth lightning hit her between the eyes.
She’d grown up a motherless child. The experience affected every area of her life. It was so painful she didn’t have the heart to wish it on anyone. Yet here she was with history repeating itself only this time her baby would know the sting of growing up without a father.
Agony engulfed her soul. It was one thing to get her heart broken and something else entirely to imagine the lifetime of heartbreak waiting for her daughter.
He doesn’t know. The words from her inner self were spoken softly. A gentle reminder she wanted to believe with all her heart.
If only that horrible woman hadn’t insinuated he was okay with her selling his baby.
But what if her intuition was correct and he didn’t know? Should she have tried harder to tell him he was going to be a father before she disappeared?
The last call she made to his phone bordered on embarrassing. Instead of telling him about the pregnancy, all she did was cry.
An uncomfortable admission gnawed at her emotions. She’d made a grievous mistake. A man who joyously pigged out on