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“Yeah, well, it was beyond my control,” Cameron said. “Believe me.”
“Everything all right?”
“Dandy,” he said. He lifted his drink. “Swell.”
Cameron hadn’t even sipped his drink when Paul walked in. He sat next to Cam and put his elbows on the bar. “What you got there?” he asked Cameron.
“Scotch.”
“Gimme a Crown. Same recipe,” Paul said to Jack.
Jack got down a glass and poured. “I could’ve sworn you had plans for the evening,” he said to Paul.
“I thought so,” he said. He lifted his glass and took a drink. “But then Abby came home, having some kind of emotional crisis, and Vanni got all hooked up in that.” Paul glared briefly at Cameron. “Lots of crying. Carrying on.”
Cameron turned toward him. “I did not do anything to bring that on,” he said rather harshly. “I was completely courteous. Thoughtful. I was wonderful.”
“I know that,” Paul said. “I gather she brought it on herself. She said she lost her temper. Said some rude things. Mean things.” He sipped. “You’re gonna have to let it go, man. Cut her some slack. For being pregnant and out of her mind. You know?”
Jack was leaning on the bar, listening closely to this conversation that was, thankfully, not overheard by other dinner customers. Only Paul and Cameron were at the bar.
“I handled it the best way I could,” Cameron said.
“She said she feels like she has to do everything—having the babies and everything—and feels like she has no control.”
“She has no control?” Cameron asked hotly. Then he laughed bitterly.
“Yeah, well, she’s feeling real bad about it now.”
“Is that so?” Cameron said. “Well, guess what? I feel real bad about what she said, too.” Then he looked back into his drink and sulked.
“Come on,” Jack said. “What the hell could she have said?”
Cameron looked up from his drink. “She called me an unkind name.”
Jack laughed at him. “Well, you’re a big boy. What could a little pregnant girl call you that would get you so riled up?”
“Never mind. It’s over.”
“How about—sperm donor,” Paul supplied.
Cameron shot Paul an angry look. “Way to go, dipshit. Anybody ever tell you you have a big mouth?”
“When Vanni said not to tell, I didn’t think she meant you. I mean, you know. Right?”
Cameron glanced at Jack.
“Don’t worry about Jack,” Paul said. “He doesn’t talk. Well, he does, but when he has specific orders not to, he can manage to keep his mouth shut.”
Then Jack, caution drawing every word, said, “Now, why in the world would she say something like that to you?”
“I can’t imagine,” Cameron said, pouting.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better about things, Vanessa called me a dimwit for asking just about the same question.” He took a drink. “Apparently we have ourselves a situation. Dad.”
“Whoa,” Jack said, straightening up. He reached for another glass and tipped the bottle over it. Jack usually waited until closing to partake, but it seemed appropriate to commiserate with these two. “Was everything all right with the ultrasound?” he asked warily.
“Fine,” Cameron said, sipping. “Babies look great.”
“And at least one’s a boy,” Paul said, picking up his drink. After a swallow he found Cameron glaring at him again. “What? I wasn’t told not to tell that.”
“You are a dimwit,” Cameron patiently pointed out.
“Yeah? Well, I’m a dimwit who was going to get lucky once the baby was tucked in, until you got Abby all upset and crying and—” He stopped suddenly. He shook his head dismally.
“Gentlemen, I propose a toast,” Jack said, lifting his glass. “Let’s drink to silence. If this conversation ever leaves this bar, we’re all going to die. Skinless.”
“Silence,” the other men agreed.
“All right,” Jack said, “since there’s a pact of silence, I just want to know when this could have happened. How this could have happened.”
Cameron put down his glass. “The weekend of Joe Benson’s wedding in Grants Pass. And, in the usual way.”
“You weren’t at that wedding,” Paul pointed out.
“I had dinner at the hotel restaurant that night. I met her in the bar. Now, that’s all I’m saying about it. And if you let on to Abby that I said that much, my situation is only going to get more impossible. You follow me here, Paul?”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?”
“Well,” he said, looking over each shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard, then leaning close to whisper. Jack, of course, leaned down to not miss a word. “She’s pregnant. You’re the father. Anything come to mind there, bud? Like maybe marriage?”
Cameron put down his drink impatiently. “Pay attention, Paul. I couldn’t even get her to go to Fortuna to eat at a restaurant with me. She hates me. I was a perfect gentleman, back then and tonight, but she hates me. She called me a sperm donor.”
“Whew,” Paul said.
“Whew,” said Jack.
All three men lifted their glasses in misery.
Vanessa put water for tea on the stove for Abby and while it heated she put little Matt down in his bed with his bottle. When she got back to the kitchen, Abby was blowing her nose, wiping her eyes. While Vanni let the tea steep, she put some leftover roast beef, potatoes and carrots on a plate and warmed it in the microwave. She put the tea in front of her friend and left the dinner in the microwave. Vanni pulled herself a beer out of the refrigerator and sat down opposite Abby. “Done crying yet?” she asked.
Abby nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Well, I do. My emotions were so crazy when I was pregnant, I don’t know how anyone could stand to be around me. I was a complete wreck.”
“I should be so ashamed,” Abby said with a sniff. “You had it so much worse.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Vanni said. “You’ve got a good bit of stress right now. Between being unmarried and having all those bills and that horrible prenup, it’s small wonder you’re a bit…reactive.”
Abby blew her nose. “I complain about having no control, then I lose control. It makes no sense.”
“Abby, I’m not known for wisdom, I’m best known for having the worst goddamn temper. Direct quote from my husband who has no temper at all. I want you to know, I’ll stand by you and support you, no matter what your next move is. But, here’s what I think you should do. I think you should go to the clinic first thing in the morning and apologize to Cameron. I think you should have a frank talk with him about how you two are going to manage parenting these children. You two only have to make one commitment—that’s to them. This can’t go on. You’re not going to let them go, and neither is he. You have to find a way to work together, whether you’re friends or not. But so much better if you’re friends. For them. Huh?”
“It just makes me so furious!” Abby got out, another tear rolling down her cheek.
“What makes you so furious?”
“That he ended up here! That he found me out! That now, in addition to everything else, I have to find a way to deal with him! I just wanted to have my babies, take them to my mother’s and get on with my life.”
“Yeah? Well, Abby, you have no right.”
Abby looked up, eyes wide and glassy, a tissue scrunched in her hand.
“Listen, I told you I knew Cameron before Paul finally stepped up to the plate and told me how he felt about me. Well, I can’t say I knew him all that well back then—we had two very platonic dates. But we did a lot of talking and I learned that he really expected he’d be married with a family by now. He wanted a wife, children. He loves kids so much that he did a second residency in pediatrics. He—”
“Yeah, I know all that….”
“Abby, just listen to me. We’ve been good friends for a long time, you and me. We flew together, partied together, cried over the miserable losers we’d hooked our hearts on together. When I think of some of the jackasses we thought we could turn into husbands…God, it makes me shudder.
“As your friend, I can be honest with you. And as my friend, you owe it to me to hear me out. Abby, you have no right. You have as much responsibility as he does for this situation you’re in. And he has as much right as you to be a parent here. I think it would have been a tragedy for Cameron if you’d succeeded in disappearing with his children. He deserves to be able to tell his family he’s going to be a father. His mother deserves to know she’s going to be a grandmother. It might be complicated and imperfect, but I bet it’s one of the best things in his life right now. I think that if a problem arises in working this out so you can parent your children together, the problem will be you. Not him.”
Abby was speechless for a moment. “Wow,” she finally said.
“That’s harsh, I know. But, Abby, that’s the truth as I see it. You don’t have to marry him, you don’t have to love him, but you do have to let him be a father to his children. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He doesn’t deserve your rage. Kid Crawford, your sleazy ex-husband, you go ahead and hate him if you want. But I can’t sit quiet while you punish Cameron. He’s a good soul. And if he hadn’t turned up here, running into you by the sheerest accident, I would consider it your responsibility to find him and tell him the truth.”
Abby leaned across the table toward Vanessa. “Listen,” she said pleadingly, “are you sure you’d be so sane and logical if you were in this mess?”
“Eventually,” Vanni said easily. “It might be hard to get to sane and logical, but I’m not worried—you’ll eventually get there, yourself. Because Cameron won’t ever do anything to hurt you. You’ll at least share parenting, and he’s so great with children, he’ll be a wonderful father. Do you have any idea how many women wish they had parenting partners that wonderful? Get it together, Abby. You’re stuck with this and it’s not a bad deal to be stuck with. What if they were Kid Crawford’s babies?” She stood up and went to the microwave, giving it another forty-five seconds to rewarm the dinner. “Let’s get some decent food in your stomach, a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow you can start mending your fences.”
When Abby went to bed, she lay awake for a very long time, just thinking. She knew Vanessa was right about almost everything. Of course Abby had to be more cooperative with Cameron, and she had no real concern about Cameron’s ability to be a decent parent. If she hadn’t guessed that much when she met him a few months ago, she certainly knew it now. He took her crap and still honored her needs, protecting her privacy, trying to keep her from panic and fear. His attention was a hundred percent aimed at the welfare of the children.
And there was the rub. Despite what she said, Abby still had memories of their night together in Grants Pass that made her skin turn hot. Cameron was a dream lover. His every word and action made her feel adored. In his hands satisfaction had been complete, shatteringly perfect. He was just the kind of man every woman hoped for.
He was probably exactly that way with every woman he coaxed into bed. The charm, the sensitivity, the power, even the humor. After all, once he realized he was face-to-face with her and she carried his babies, he hadn’t said he thought himself to be in love with her. He’d demanded his paternal rights but hadn’t suggested marriage.
He had said he’d looked for her. Wanted more time with her…
She flopped over in bed. She had to let him off the hook for that love-and-marriage thing—she’d have laughed off any declarations of love anyway and she’d never have agreed to marry him, a virtual stranger. That would be crazy.
But he was right, and Vanni was right. He’d been considerate of her feelings and she had been a shrew. Her children would be better off with a good father they could be proud of, than they would be with no father at all. These ideas cost her quite a lot of sleep that night.
She was up very early, but she didn’t beat Paul to the kitchen. He was having a cup of coffee as dawn was just barely peeking over the horizon. He looked over the rim of the cup with round eyes. “I apologize,” she said before even saying good-morning. “I was a little crazy last night, but I’m going to the clinic first thing this morning to apologize to Cameron and try to work with him on our…project.”
He smiled slightly. “I guess that’s a good idea. Considering.”
“Got any better ideas?” she asked.
“Abby, I don’t know anything about having babies,” Paul said. “I just know that when little Matt was coming I worried so much about him. Vanni was so upset and sad, I worried that might hurt the baby in some way. I think Mel was worried, too, but she told me that if being worried and scared caused serious problems, there wouldn’t have been a single healthy birth in the history of the world. I just wish you could be happy.” He cleared his throat. “I bet Cameron’s on your side. Bet he wishes that, too.”
She tilted her head and just smiled at him. “You’re right. I have to work on that. After all, I have some problems, but they’re under control at the moment. And I’m going to move forward with Cameron. If he doesn’t hate me too much…”
“Oh, he doesn’t.” She shot him a questioning look. “I’m sure he doesn’t,” he amended. He smiled lamely.
“I wish I could have a good strong cup of coffee,” Abby said, looking jealously at Paul’s big mug.
He laughed at her. “See, that by itself could make you cranky. All the things you give up to be a good mother.”
Vanessa was barely up with the baby when Abby was shrugging into her coat to leave the house. She thought if she got to the clinic before they opened, she could have a word with Cameron in private. She wasn’t sure what that word was going to be besides, “Sorry.”
She had to bang on the door more than once and finally, she saw a shadow approaching. She glanced at her watch; it was only seven-thirty and they weren’t due to open for business till nine. When he opened the door, her first word was right on. “Oh, sorry.”
He was wearing sweatpants, his chest and feet bare, a towel slung around his neck and his hair wet from the shower. She flushed a little, remembering that wide, hard chest as it had been pressed against her breasts. And those muscular arms that had held him up over her to keep from crushing her with his weight.
“I wanted to get here early, but I think I got here too early,” she said.
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, opening the door for her. “You all right?”
“Well, I guess so.”
“What’s wrong, Abby?” he asked, looking instantly concerned. “Are you sick? In pain? Anything physically wrong?”
“I was a bitch. I came to apologize.”
“Oh,” he said, letting out a slow breath. “Forget it. You were upset. We were both upset. Having twins isn’t stress free. Let’s let it go.”
“I thought maybe we could talk a minute, if you have time.”
He gave her a small smile. “How about a cup of herbal tea?”
“I’d rather have a strong cup of coffee with a little Irish Mist and lots of cream, but I suppose that’s out of the question….”
He laughed lightly. “Bad idea. But there’s tea in the kitchen. Mel has it on hand for the pregnant girls.”
“That’s me,” she said. “Mel’s not a tea drinker?”
“Oh, no. Mel’s a hard-core caffeine junkie. She’d take it in the vein if she could.”
“I relate. I might be in withdrawal. That could be half the problem.”
“The tea is herbal, so it’s also decaf.”
“Beautiful,” she said sarcastically. “One blow after another.”
And this time his laugh was a little stronger. “Come to the kitchen. Have you had breakfast?”
“If it’s all the same to you, I’ll save that for after we’ve talked a bit.”
