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Effie rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure that’s how it works, to be honest. Polly’s not the one being nasty, you know.”
“I know.”
This conversation had not gone at all the way Effie had imagined it would. Consequently, her righteous outrage was fading in the face of Dee’s apologies and pleas on behalf of her lonely, socially alienated daughter. “I’ll talk to Polly.”
“I’ll talk to Meredith. And, Effie...if you don’t want to join the moms’ group, maybe you’d like to grab coffee one day? Catch up? I’m really sorry, I never meant for anything to be hurtful. It got blown out of context. It’s easy to forget there’s a real person on the other side of the gossip. Let me make it up to you.”
“Sure,” Effie said, to her own surprise. “That sounds great.”
Dee sounded pleased. “Great. I’ll call you next week.”
They disconnected and Effie tucked her phone into her pocket. She went into Polly’s room to wish her good-night, only to find her daughter already asleep. Another rush of love washed over Effie, so strong it made her want to cry.
It was only later as she was falling into sleep that Effie jerked awake with that feeling of falling. She’d forgotten to call Mitchell. She twisted in her sheets to look at the clock. Too late now. He really wasn’t the one she wanted to talk to anyway, but although she tapped in Heath’s number, she deleted it before the call could connect.
chapter ten (#ulink_908dee42-bf08-5be9-9e16-3fda070a27cb)
Serving her father coffee, Effie feels incredibly grown-up but far from mature. Not even with the small bump of her belly sticking out from the front of her maternity dress. It’s a horrendously ugly outfit and does nothing to hide the pregnancy she and her father have not yet discussed.
He takes the coffee and sets it on the table to look at her. “You don’t have to stay here, you know that? Your mother...”
“She made herself very clear.” Effie sips from a glass of ice water, the only thing she can stomach right now.
Her father sighs. “She’s sorry about that.”
“I’m sure she is.” Effie shakes her head. “But I’m fine here. Really.”
“If that boy wants to step up and take responsibility,” her father begins but stops when Effie holds up a hand.
“This isn’t Heath’s baby. I told Mom that. But Heath is willing to let me live here. It’s my best option. And it will be fine. Good. It’s going to be great.” As always since she came home, there’s an awkward silence in the space where once she’d have called him Dad. She can’t bring herself to do it anymore. It’s not Daddy, but even so, the name is soured for her. It’s not as if she can suddenly start calling him Pop or something like that. So Effie doesn’t call her father anything, and it’s obvious and uncomfortable, but neither of them ever mention it.
“I know you think so.” Her father frowns. “I understand.”
Effie sighs, sounding very much as he had only moments before. “You don’t.”
“I’d like to,” her father says.
This is never the sort of conversation a girl should ever have with her father. It involves trauma and awful things. Also sex, which wasn’t awful nor a trauma, despite the fact she ended up in this delicate condition when she ought to have known better.
Her father sighs again, looking so much older than he had even when Effie came back home, and she’d been shocked then at how much he’d aged in the three years she’d been gone. His smile reminds her of when she was younger and he’d take her on a Saturday to the hardware store to look at the tools. He’s the sort of father any girl would dream of, the kind who will get choked up when he dances with her at her wedding. Not that she’s planning a wedding anytime soon.
“The father. He’s not in the picture?”
Effie has not told the baby’s father that he’s the one who knocked her up. She hasn’t seen him since she found out. If he has by some reason heard about it, and he might’ve, because it’s a small town, he probably assumes, as her mother had, that the baby is Heath’s. And it should be, she thinks with a sudden, fierce twist of her mouth. This baby, the one she’s going to get to keep and not the one she lost, should be his.
She shakes her head. “No. He doesn’t know.”
“You could come home, Effie. We’ll take care of you.” Her father sounds sincere.
Effie believes him. But... “I’m almost nineteen. I’m in school, I’m working, and I’m having a baby. Living with Heath is helping me. We’re going to be all right. I don’t have to come home. I can’t.”
“Why not? Because of your mother? She’s just having a hard time with all of this. Honey, I know your mom likes to talk. But that’s all it is. She’ll come around. You know she will.”
“No, not because of her. Because I’m not a kid anymore.”
“You’re still our daughter. You’ll always be our little girl. Effie, your mom and I want to help you. That’s all.” Her father lifts the coffee mug as though he means to drink from it but puts it down without so much as a sip. He shakes his head. Sighs again.
Effie wants to make this easier for him, but she doesn’t know how. “This is the best thing for me.”
“To live in a crap-hole apartment, working and going to school, with a baby on the way? Living with a guy who can barely hold down a job of his own? I give him credit, don’t get me wrong, if the baby really isn’t his—”
“It’s not,” she says sharply. “And he knows that. So he does deserve the credit, and for more than just that. Heath works hard.”
“He’s been in and out of mental hospitals, Effie.”
“Once. That’s it.”
“Once is one too many.”
“Better than just going in and never coming out,” she snaps, not caring if she hurts her father’s feelings now. “Has he fucked up? Yes. We both have.”
“I understand. You went through something terrible together.”
“Yes,” Effie says quietly. “Together. And we’re going through this together, too.”
“Is he good to you?”
It’s not the question she expected, and she’s taken enough by surprise to nod. “Yes.”
Her father stands. “Well. I can’t promise you anything about your mother, but...I’ll try to give him a chance. I just want you to know you have choices. But if you need something, anything, you come to me, okay? I’m still your father, Effie, and I love you.”
“Love you, too, D-dad.” She stumbles on the word but gives her father a huge, long hug.
When he finally lets go to hold her at arm’s length, he looks her up and down. Her mother would have lectured, but her father smiles. He puts a hand on her belly.
“I bet it’s a girl,” he says. “And she’ll be beautiful, just like you.”
chapter eleven (#ulink_f3bab7cd-8d3d-5d9c-9d9f-eb5e5a35be8e)
Effie missed her father every day, but there were some times when the ache was worse. Tonight, crammed into the middle school auditorium with her mom on one side and Heath on the other, she missed her father very much. He’d have been there with flowers for Polly, even though she only had a part in the chorus. Front row. Clapping until his hands fell off. Effie wisely did not mention this thought to her mother, who was already supremely uncomfortable with the fact Heath had shown up late and, to her, unexpectedly.
“Stacey,” Heath said with a nod and a smile so genuine even Effie believed he wasn’t being sarcastic. In Effie’s ear, he said, “Parking was shit. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You got here before they started, that’s what counts.” Catching sight of her mother’s dour expression, Effie settled herself more firmly between them.
When he took her hand a few minutes into the show, she let him hold it for at least a minute before gently disentangling their fingers. She pretended it was so she could dig in her purse for a tissue, but she knew Heath wasn’t fooled. Dammit, though, he didn’t have to insist on trying to make them into a couple when they weren’t. It put Effie in a bad place, made her the bad guy, and he knew it.
Heath gave her a glance and a smile that Effie didn’t return. He rolled his eyes a little and turned his attention back to the stage. Three hours and one fifteen-minute intermission later, the show had ended and a bright-eyed Polly rushed to greet them in the school lobby.
“Everyone’s going to Buster’s for ice cream, Mom. Can I go?” Polly still wore the heavy eyeliner and blush from the play, and the sight of how she was going to look in a few years as a teenager sent a pang through Effie’s heart.
“I can take her,” Effie’s mother said. “I have some errands to run in the mall. I can shop while she eats with her friends, then pick her up and bring her home.”
Effie hesitated. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.” Her mother smiled and put an arm around Polly’s shoulders. “It’s no trouble at all.”
It was also a way to one-up Heath, something that only Polly didn’t guess. Heath knew it but visibly shrugged it off. Effie gave her mother a lifted eyebrow that she pretended not to see, but refusing would punish Polly, not Effie’s mom.
“Give me your things and I’ll take them home so you don’t have to worry about them,” Effie said, then to Heath, “Are you going to hang around a few minutes, or...?”
“I’ll wait until you get back. I want to tell my girl how great she was.” Heath hugged Polly, then ruffled her hair. From his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out a single, somewhat crushed, carnation. “Here, Wog. You should always get flowers after a performance.”
Oh. Flowers. Effie blinked at the sting of emotion and shot her mother a look that was far too triumphant to be appropriate. Polly was already heading down the narrow hallway to the band room, and Effie followed her through the throng of overexcited tweens. The noise level was insane. She waited while Polly gathered her stuff and piled it into her mother’s arms.
“Polly,” Effie said before her daughter could head back into the lobby. “I just wanted to tell you...you were amazing.”
“It was just a part in the chorus,” Polly said. “I messed up the one dance, too.”
“You were amazing,” Effie repeated.
Polly grinned and hugged her, squeezing too hard and crushing the book bag between them. Effie laughed. “Go on, so you’re not too late.”
A dark-haired girl wearing too much eye makeup even for the school musical paused as she passed them. “Are you going to Buster’s?”
“Yeah.” Polly paused. “You wanna come?”
The other girl smiled and nodded. “Yeah, sure, my mom said I could. I wasn’t going to, but...”
“Nah, you should come. Everyone’s going.” Polly waited until the girl had moved out of earshot, then gave Effie a long-suffering look. “Meredith.”
“Wow. I didn’t recognize her.”
“She stuffed her bra,” Polly said with an arch sniff that said exactly what she thought about that little trick.
Effie stopped herself from laughing, but only barely. Back in the lobby, she hugged her daughter goodbye, gave her mother some money to pay for the ice cream, despite Mom’s protests that she could cover it, and when they’d gone through the front doors toward the parking lot, Effie looked for Heath. The crowd had thinned drastically, and at six-five he usually stood head and shoulders over everyone else. He shouldn’t have been difficult to see. Maybe he’d left despite telling her he would wait.
Effie shrugged Polly’s book bag over her shoulder and patted her pockets to be sure she had her keys before heading out into the cold. She spotted Heath as soon as she came out the front doors. She should’ve known to look for him in the smoking area. “Oh, hey.”
He wasn’t alone. The blonde with him wore stiletto ankle boots with skinny jeans and an impossibly tight leather jacket that did not look very warm. It couldn’t have been, not by the way she shivered and shifted from foot to foot as she smoked. She tossed her hair when she saw Effie, but it took Heath a few seconds longer than that to turn.
“Hey,” Effie said again. “I’m heading out.”
“Hi, Effie. I’m Lisa. Collins? My son Kevin’s in Polly’s grade. He was the zookeeper.” The blonde stubbed out her cigarette and offered a hand that Effie took only because it would’ve seemed really antisocial to refuse.
“Oh. Right. Kevin. He was in Polly’s class last year. Mr. Binderman.” Effie had no recollection of ever meeting Lisa Collins before, but that didn’t mean anything. She gave Heath a curious look.
Heath shoved his hands into his back pockets and rocked a little on his heels, looking from Effie to Lisa and back again. Oh, Effie thought. Oh, shit.
“Hey, well, I’m going to get out of here. Thanks for coming to the show, I know Polly appreciated it.” Effie gave Lisa a nod and Heath a neutral look, then went to her car.
It took her a minute or so after putting the key in the ignition before she could force herself to pull out of the parking spot. She wasn’t trying to watch and see if Heath and Lisa left together. Definitely not. But if she drove slowly enough, she might be able to catch a...
No, Effie thought. Hell, no. You’re not going to be that kind of jealous bitch.
Heath had every right to flirt or date or fuck whomever he wanted. Effie had made that abundantly clear. It was not the first time he’d done it. There’d even been a girl named Theresa who, for a while, had been officially his girlfriend. She’d been decent to Polly and respectful without being obsequious or a bitch to Effie. She hadn’t lasted long, not even a year, and Effie had never asked what broke them up, but she hadn’t been sad to see her go.
Anyway, a pot could call a kettle any color it wanted to, but it would still be black. Effie and Heath were not together. She did not want them to be together, not like that. So good luck to Lisa, Effie thought and pulled into the line of cars leaving the parking lot. She made it all the way home without so much as a shaky tear or stifled sob. She even made it into the house.
There she poured herself a glass of white wine and leaned against the counter, waiting for the jealousy to hit her. It was going to. She deserved it to.
The back door opened before she had time to do more than take a few sips. Startled, Effie spilled the wine down the front of her shirt. “What the hell!”
“Sorry. I texted you. You didn’t answer.” Heath took the glass from her hand and drained it, then pinned her against the counter. “How long until your mom gets back with Polly?”
Effie put her hands flat on his chest to hold him off her. “Hey. You. No. This... No.”
He tried to kiss her, but she turned her face. He didn’t let that stop him. He licked her neck, then nibbled in the best way to get her shivering for him.
“Dammit, Heath,” Effie said. “What the hell...”
He laughed into her ear and moved away from her. “Your face. When you saw her. Your fucking face, Effie.”
At that, she was no longer jealous. Vindicated, though she’d never admit it. Also pissed, which she would.
“You’re an asshole,” she told him.
Heath frowned. “C’mon.”
In response, Effie went to the fridge to pour another glass of wine. She didn’t offer him one. With her back to him, she said, “Trying to make me jealous is an asshole thing to do.”
“You do it to me all the time.”
“No,” she said, spinning. “I don’t. I don’t try to make you jealous. I try to move on and live my fucking life, Heath, and be honest about it. There’s a goddamned difference.”
“I went out to smoke. She was there. She started flirting with me. She’s cute. I didn’t start it up to make you jealous. But did it?” He looked angry but also hopeful.
Effie sipped wine without an answer. She pushed past him and went down the hall into her bedroom, where she shut the door firmly behind her. Her hands were shaking, but she didn’t want him to see it. She put the glass on the dresser and unbuttoned her blouse, turning quickly when the bedroom door opened.
“I’m changing. Get out.”
“It’s not like I’ve never seen you naked,” Heath said in a low voice, still trying for humor, although he wasn’t laughing.
Effie paused, lifting her chin, her fingers no longer working the buttons. “I said get out.”
“If you want me to leave, I’ll go.” Heath’s gaze fell to the open V of her shirt, then moved to her eyes.
Effie scowled. Unbuttoning. One at a time, slowly, so slowly. “I said I wanted you to, didn’t I?”
