скачать книгу бесплатно
“No,” Callie said, realizing she hadn’t been clear. “Nigel had no idea.”
“You never told him?” Natalie asked.
“I…I thought it was best.”
Deanna was shaking her head. “So now you have to tell him that he’s a father?”
“It’s going to be hard, but I have to do it. It’s the right thing. My accident made that clear. If I were to die, Kwame should know who his real father is.” Callie shrugged. “He should have known all along.”
Silence fell between them, and after a long moment, Uncle Dave said, “Your aunt figured as much.”
Now it was Callie’s turn to be surprised. “She—she did?”
“You left town so quickly, then let us know you were pregnant. And the fact that you never wanted to come back to Cleveland… Your aunt realized Nigel must’ve been the father. I’m sad to say the times we ran into him, we weren’t all that friendly. We figured he had done something really bad to hurt you. We blamed him for you not coming back here.”
Even more reason for Callie to come clean now. “Nigel and I had our problems, but the decision to leave—that was mine. I was young, scared, and I thought it was the right thing to do. I’m sorry you and Auntie Jean blamed him, because the truth is he didn’t do anything particularly horrible to me. We just…I just thought it wasn’t going to work between us…” Callie sighed. “Are you all mad at me?”
“No,” Natalie said, who moved toward her and hugged her. “I can’t say I’ll ever truly understand, but this is your business. The only person who has the right to be mad is Nigel.”
Callie drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. She knew that was true. And that was her biggest fear.
“That’s why I have to talk to him. Right now.”
“Right now?” Deanna asked. “It’s not even seven-thirty in the morning.”
“I know, but…” Callie swallowed. “There’s no time like the present, right? I’ve just got to do this, before I lose my nerve.”
“At least have some coffee,” Natalie told her. She went to the cupboard, got a mug and filled it with java for her sister.
Callie was going to say no, because her stomach was jumpy and she didn’t know if she could handle eating or drinking anything. But she was tired, and a jolt of caffeine might do her some good. So she went to the counter, added sugar and cream to her coffee, and took a sip to make sure it was just right.
“Do you want one of us to go with you?” Deanna asked.
Callie waved off the suggestion. “No, definitely not. This is something I need to do on my own.”
And it was. She had gotten herself into this mess, and she was the only one who could get herself out of it.
Chapter 3
Nigel Williams could count on one hand the number of times in his life that he’d been speechless. He wasn’t the type to find himself at a loss for words. But when he opened the door to his home and saw who stood there—a few minutes shy of eight in the morning—he couldn’t think of one thing to say.
He stared, and so did she. He couldn’t help wondering if his mind had conjured her, it had been that long.
“Hello, Nigel,” came the soft voice of the woman Nigel had once loved. He still didn’t speak. He could hardly think, much less form words.
“I know you’re surprised to see me,” she went on.
Callie Hart was standing on his doorstep. Surprised was an understatement.
Callie looked into Nigel’s eyes, then glanced away uncomfortably. His own gaze went to the big white bandage on her forehead. Then he looked lower, noticing that she was hunched into a light jacket that was thrown over her shoulders, as though to protect herself from the chill that had come after the rain. The late May weather had been odd lately, and the recent heat—which had caused the rain—had been followed by a cold spell this morning.
Meeting his gaze once again, Callie asked, “Can I come in?”
Nigel’s stomach clenched. Here she was, after not being in touch for ten years, and she was asking to come in as if the request was completely normal? He didn’t want to let her in. Not in the least.
“Please,” Callie repeated, her voice catching slightly. “It’s…it’s important.”
What could be so important to talk about now, ten years after she had left him?
“Did you walk here?” he asked, looking behind her and seeing no car.
“Yes.”
Nigel wanted to turn her away. He really did. No explanation for her behavior would matter at this point.
“Can we please speak inside?” Callie asked. “Because you need to hear me out. Once you do, you can send me away and I’ll never return, if that’s what you want.”
His heart pounding, Nigel contemplated what to do for a moment. Then, he stood back and held the door open wide. As Callie stepped over the threshold, he noticed the sling Marshall had mentioned, which explained why she was wearing the jacket over her shoulders. Marshall had suggested that maybe Callie had fallen, but these injuries looked more serious than that.
“What happened?” Nigel asked, indicating her injury with a jerk of his head.
“A fender bender. Nothing serious.”
“You…you seem cold,” Nigel found himself saying. “Would you like some tea?”
“That sounds great. Whatever you have.”
Nigel closed the front door, then made his way off to the right where the kitchen was. Old habits died hard. He didn’t particularly want to offer Callie tea, as if she had come on a social call, but she was shivering, and Nigel could hear his mother telling him that you should always offer your guests a drink.
Guest…Callie Hart was hardly a guest.
As he turned on the flame beneath the kettle, he paused at the counter and closed his eyes. And then he pinched himself to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming.
He wasn’t.
Glancing over his shoulder, Nigel looked at Callie, who was now standing in the living room. She had her good arm wrapped around her body. She was looking around the house with interest, obviously taking in all the changes.
“I hardly recognize the house,” she said. “These hardwood floors are beautiful. Are they original?”
“Yeah. Once I ripped up the carpet, I found those floors. I refinished them.”
“Beautiful. And I love these upscale light fixtures.”
“Thanks,” Nigel muttered, wondering why she was talking about the house. “What kind of tea do you want? Orange pekoe, something flavored?”
“Orange pekoe is fine.”
Nigel opened the cupboard and took down the box of tea. He got a tea bag and put it into a mug as the water warmed.
“I assume you did all the work?” Callie said.
“Yeah.”
“I really like how you opened the place up by knocking down the wall that used to be between the living room and kitchen.”
Nigel said nothing. Just gritted his teeth. As if he expected Callie to be here after all this time, complimenting him on the renovations he’d done to the house.
As the kettle began to boil, Nigel watched Callie move toward the pictures on one of the walls. She seemed to take a keen interest in the photo of him in his police uniform on his graduation day.
“Do you live here alone?” Callie called out.
Nigel didn’t answer. Instead, he poured boiling water into the mug. Then, leaving it there to sit, he went back out to the living room.
“Do you live here alone?” Callie repeated.
“If you don’t mind, Callie, I’d like you to get to the point of why you’re here,” Nigel said instead of answering her. “Because I don’t understand why, after all this time, you’re here at my house.”
He saw something flash in her eyes. And he got the distinct sense that all her chatter had simply been a way to break the ice, to ease the tension.
“Maybe you should sit down,” she suggested.
Nigel groaned his frustration. “Are you here to apologize, Callie? Because for the life of me, that’s the only thing that makes sense. You came back to town for your aunt’s funeral, and you’ve been attacked by a bout of conscience. Well, guess what—you’ve shown up ten years too late.”
“You’re angry,” she said.
For some reason, the comment irked Nigel all the more. “You’re damn right I’m angry.” Pausing, Nigel drew in a slow breath. “I mean, I was angry. But what happened was a long time ago.”
“I know.”
It hurt to see her, he realized. More than it should given how much time had passed. Suddenly, he didn’t care if she had that cup of tea. He was ready for the visit to be over.
“You know what, Callie—there’s no need to apologize.” If she was truly sorry, it wouldn’t have taken her ten years to show up at his door, so any apology she gave him now would ring hollow.
“I’m not here to apologize.”
That got his attention. One of his eyebrows shot up. “Then why are you here?”
“Because I need to tell you something. Something I should have told you a long time ago.” Callie drew in a deep breath. “Nigel…when I left Cleveland…” Her voice trailed off.
He studied her, wondering what on earth she had to say. Surely she wasn’t going to tell him that she regretted leaving, that she wanted him back.
The idea was laughable. But the fact that she was here meant hell had already frozen over, so anything was possible.
“You’re here, Callie,” he said. “Just spit out whatever it is that you have to say.”
“When I left here, I was pregnant,” she began slowly, not looking into Nigel’s eyes.
Nigel was confused. “I don’t understand.”
“When I left Cleveland, I was pregnant,” she repeated, her eyes now meeting his.
“What are you saying? That you were seeing someone else? Is that why you left without an explanation?”
“No, I wasn’t seeing anyone else.” Callie spoke emphatically. “What I’m saying is…I was pregnant with your baby.” Nigel saw her chest rise and fall with a shaky breath. “Nigel, you have a son.”
Seconds passed. Seconds in which it seemed as though a bomb had gone off, shattering his world.
In fact, he was certain that Callie had not said what he thought she’d just said. It didn’t make sense. If she had been pregnant with his baby, surely she wouldn’t have taken off without telling him.
“What did you say?” he asked. He needed to be sure.
“I was pregnant, Nigel. I…I had your baby. A boy. He’s here with me—”
“You’re telling me I’m a father?”
Callie nodded. “Yes. Your son’s name is Kwame.”
The simple words hit Nigel with the impact of a kick to his stomach, so much so that he exhaled all the air in his lungs in a huge gush.
“I have a…” Son? He couldn’t even say the word, it was that unbelievable.
“I know you’re surprised,” Callie went on.
“Surprised?” Nigel laughed, but it was a hollow, mirthless sound. Surprise was the least of it. He was dumbfounded. If someone had told him that his best friend was actually a robot, he would have been less surprised.
He was a father.
It seemed inconceivable. Sure, he knew that he and Callie had made love enough times to create a baby. But though they’d been young, they’d been smart enough to use protection.
“How?” Nigel asked. “How is this possible?”
“I know it’s hard to believe because we were using protection,” Callie began. “But condoms aren’t always foolproof.”
This couldn’t be happening. Surely Nigel had been transported to the twilight zone. Because what he was hearing was too bizarre to be true.
Get this—she’s got a child. Marshall’s words sounded in his mind. A young boy was getting out of the car with her. Maybe eight.
“How old is he?” Nigel asked.
“Nine.”
Nine… If the kid was nine, it certainly could be his son. His heart was racing, but with each passing second, he was becoming convinced that he wasn’t in the twilight zone.
This was really happening. This was true.
Callie had said that condoms weren’t always foolproof, and Nigel couldn’t help remembering at least a couple times that the condom had broken when they’d been together. At the time, he hadn’t been overly concerned about it. Because he had planned to spend his life with Callie, so if they’d created a child together, Nigel would have been fine with that, even if a baby had come along sooner than he had planned.
Callie, the condom broke, Nigel remembered telling her the first time it had happened.
