Baby Bombshell Page 7

  “It’s not feuding, Annie. It’s called bonding,” Jeannie said drily.

  “It’s aggravating is what it is. Why did I ever say I would do this?”

  “Because you couldn’t resist McKenzie’s charm?” Patrick asked, cocking his head to one side.

  “That must be my only excuse,” she said softly and turned her merciless eyes back on Evan. “He lured me in with false promises and here I am.”

  She was baiting him—Evan knew it—but the urge to explain, to defend himself, swept over him anyway. He wrestled the compulsion into submission. He had gone to bed with Anna from love or lust or whatever selfish reason of the moment. Pretending it didn’t happen was the smartest avenue to take. She wouldn’t see it the same way, but he was trying to do what was best for both of them. He could never be tied to any woman and Anna would never be happy with a short-term fling. It was over. It had to be.

  “This is a family business, Anna,” Antonio said, drawing everyone’s attention from Evan. “Your mother and I built it for our children. Now we must change it so that our children will take it over from us.”

  “Pop, please. You don’t—”

  “No.” Antonio held up a hand to stop Anna’s protest. “I accept this. But I also have little interest in what will be. I am too old for that. I only want a place that will bring all my children together.” His gaze encompassed them all, even Evan.

  “We know that you all want what is best for us,” Elaine said quietly. She moved to stand next to Antonio who put an arm across her shoulders. “And we want what is best for you, too. That’s why we’ve agreed to this. It doesn’t mean that it’s easy.”

  Silence held for a long moment, rare for such a boisterous, voluble family. Evan watched as the siblings traded glances. Finally, Ian broke through the stasis.

  “Well, Annie, go ahead. What’s your first question?”

  Anna sighed, picked up her briefcase and popped the latches. Taking out a yellow tablet and a pen, she turned and sat at the desk where Patrick perched.

  “All right. Who wants condos? Raise your hand.”

  Chapter Five

  Rolling onto her back, Anna sighed and fought consciousness. It was no use; her body thought it was still in San Francisco and would not let her sleep. Her eyes slid open and she yawned, stretching her arms across the expanse of the bed. For an instant, she remembered waking alone the morning after her passionate night with Evan. She had been so confused then. She was no less so this morning.

  Yesterday, after he had greeted her so stiffly, she had wished she could be anywhere but in that office, stuck with him and her family. Even when the meeting began to go well, she had been wary. Then argument changed to a true discussion between everyone. Strangely, she and Evan seemed to be on the same wavelength. As the debate continued, the others dropped out. Finally, it had been just her and Evan talking. For a few minutes, Anna had felt exhilarated, in tune with his feelings and thoughts. In a way, it was as intimate as sex.

  That brief closeness had bewildered her. It had occurred to her that maybe he didn’t regret what happened after all. Maybe he was just confused and hiding his feelings in front of her family. But then, as soon as the meeting was over, he disappeared. One minute he was there, the next gone without a word, leaving her with no clue as to his feelings for her and no idea what she should think or do about him.

  Pushing the covers to one side, Anna sat up and put her feet on the floor. A wave of nausea washed over her. “Whoa,” she said aloud, putting a hand to her mouth and swallowing hard. Like the day before, the bile would not be held back. She made a dash for the bathroom and crouched over the porcelain while her stomach upended itself.

  When the queasiness had settled, she rinsed her mouth and brushed her teeth. After washing her face, she patted it dry with a towel, looking at her pale self in the mirror. “No more thinking about Evan before breakfast,” she told her reflection.

  She put down the towel and pulled on her old, comfy but tattered bathrobe that her mother had preserved and hung on the back of the door, then went out to face her parents. In the hall outside her bedroom, the aroma of her father’s Italian-roast coffee hit her. Usually a tantalizing treat, this morning it smelled suspicious and she wrinkled her nose.

  Swallowing down nausea, Anna continued down the stairs and past the living and dining rooms. From the back of the house, she heard the low rumble of her father’s voice, followed by the lighter ring of her mother’s. Pushing open the swinging kitchen door, she stepped into a room bright with sunshine and full of the scents of cooking.

  Her father had his back to her as he presided at the stove, stirring a pan of what had to be peppers, onions and new potatoes. He would add eggs on the side, along with toast for a filling breakfast to celebrate her return. He was humming an aria from an obscure Giordano opera.

  “Good morning,” Elaine said brightly. “How did you sleep?”

  “’Morning, Ma,” Anna said, pressing a kiss to her mother’s cheek, then doing the same for her father. “’Morning, Pop. I slept great.”

  “There is coffee. I ground the beans fresh,” Antonio said, cracking eggs into a second pan on the stove and reaching over to depress the toaster button. “Breakfast is coming soon.”

  “Just toast for me,” Anna said, sliding into a chair at the table.

  “What?” Elaine frowned. “Don’t you feel well?”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “Just because I only want toast doesn’t mean I’m sick.”

  “But it’s your father’s special breakfast,” her mother said, coming around the table to lay a hand on Anna’s forehead and cheeks, checking for fever. In Elaine’s book, serious illness was the only explanation for not eating. “You do look pale this morning. Did you eat something at Patrick and Kate’s that didn’t agree with you?”

  “I’m fine, Ma.” Anna smiled up at her mother, trying to project reassurance. “I was just a little queasy this morning, that’s all. Probably too much red wine last night.”

  “Hmm.” Her mother was obviously unconvinced. “You should eat. It will make you feel better.”

  At that moment, Antonio slid a plate in front of her. It was all Anna could do to keep her composure. The fried eggs, gleaming with oil, made her stomach do a slow roll. She swallowed and smiled at her father as he set out another plate for Elaine, then sat with his own breakfast.

  “Your mother is right,” he said. “Eggs soak up the excess wine and convert it to vitamins. Don’t laugh! It is true.”

  Averting her eyes as he cut into his eggs, Anna picked up a piece of dry toast. Taking a small bite, she chewed and swallowed. Her system accepted the morsel, so she took another bite. Elaine rose and poured coffee into a cup for Anna before refilling Antonio’s and her own mug. The smell of the dark brew was even worse up close. Anna could practically feel herself turn green. Pushing the cup discreetly to the side, she nibbled on the harmless toast.

  “Delicious, as usual, my dear,” Elaine said with a smile at Antonio. She eyed Anna who hastily speared a slice of potato and smiled back. Elaine pursed her lips. “I hope you weren’t driving under the influence last night, Anna Maria.”

  “She’s Italian,” Antonio said sternly. “She can hold her wine. It’s genetic.”

  “Don’t forget, she’s Irish, too,” Elaine countered.

  “As long as she stays away from the whiskey, then.” Antonio winked at Anna.

  “Try a little egg, Anna,” her mother urged. “Protein is good for hangovers.”

  “Ma, I am not hungover,” Anna protested, rolling her eyes.

  “Then what’s the matter?” Elaine mused aloud. “Let’s hope you’re not pregnant.” She turned to her husband. “Do you remember, Tonio, when I could tell I was pregnant just by smelling coffee in the morning? One whiff and I was in the bathroom.”

  Antonio chuckled. “Better than any test on a rabbit, that is certain.”

  Elaine laughed and sipped her coffee, then started gossiping about the latest b
oatyard drama: two of the employees were having a feud and could no longer work together. The story required no response, which was good, because Anna’s brain had clamped down on one word. Pregnant.

  Pregnant?

  Pregnant!

  The word raced around in her head like a gerbil on a wheel, circling and circling, faster and faster, but going nowhere. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. As she did the calculations in her head, Anna’s stomach clenched again. Sweat broke out across her forehead and dampened her palms. It was possible—more than possible. In fact, the math was just about perfect. But how? She was on the pill. Its failure rate was infinitesimally small, wasn’t it?

  “You don’t look so good.” Antonio’s deep voice seemed to come from a long distance away.

  “Anna? Sweetheart?” Elaine got up and came around the table to crouch at her daughter’s side. “What’s wrong?” She smoothed Anna’s hair back from her face and their eyes met.

  Anna could only stare at her mother, mute. She tried to smile, but tears clogged her throat. She had no words to explain, nor did she dare try. It was as if by not speaking, she could keep the truth from crashing down around her.

  Elaine’s face was taut with worry as she searched her daughter’s face. Then her gray gaze sharpened with alarmed comprehension. Anna could almost hear the gears turning and knew that her mother had answered her own question.

  “Are you certain?” Elaine asked softly.

  “What is wrong with her?” Antonio asked in a gruff tone. He rose to his feet and towered over the two women. “We should take her to the hospital.”

  Anna shook her head slowly from side to side. She could speak again, but the words wouldn’t come out in any sensible order. “I don’t… I just… I can’t—”

  Taking Anna’s hands in hers, Elaine squeezed them gently. Her grip was warm and firm against the cold numbness that affected Anna right now. “We can find out today,” Elaine said with a gentle smile. “This morning. I’ll call for an appointment right now.”

  “Will someone tell me what is wrong?” Antonio’s voice rose to a bellow. He put a hand on Anna’s shoulder, turning her to face him. Tears rose and spilled over her lower lashes as Anna looked up at her father. With a growl of empathy, he gathered her in his arms and held her tightly. “Just tell me, Anna Maria, and I will make it better.”

  The comforting, familiar words only made the tears flow faster. When she was small, her father had always stood between her and the world. He had an answer to any question, a solution for any problem and was always ready to protect her. This time, though, there was nothing he could do.

  Antonio patted her back as she wept. “She is crying,” he said to Elaine over Anna’s head. His tone was accusatory.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” Elaine said.

  “But something must be causing her to suffer!”

  “Not necessarily. I cried all the time when I was pregnant. Remember?”

  Anna felt Antonio stiffen as his wife’s words registered. She pulled away from her father’s embrace. Wiping her cheeks with the sleeve of her robe, she struggled for composure. Elaine made a clucking sound and handed her a napkin. After Anna had blown her nose, she reluctantly met her father’s eyes. It was the hardest thing she had ever done; his disappointment was going to hurt both of them.

  Antonio’s dark eyes were narrowed; his expression unreadable. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he surveyed her face carefully. “Who is he?”

  The question confused Anna. “What?”

  “Who did this to you?” Antonio’s question was nearly a growl. “Tell me.”

  If he hadn’t looked so angry and determined, Anna would have laughed. The question was completely ridiculous. “No one got me pregnant, Pop.”

  Antonio frowned and gave her a little shake. “You are not alone in this, Anna Maria. I will not have my daughter—”

  “I’m an adult, Pop,” she interrupted. “I take full responsibility for my actions and their consequences.”

  “As will he,” her father said ominously, dropping his grip. “I will see to it.”

  Anna rolled her eyes. “First of all, we don’t even know if it’s true and if it is—”

  “I know it’s true,” Elaine said calmly, and began to stack the plates.

  Anna fidgeted with the tie on her robe. Her mother’s calm acceptance was a balm. “I can’t be pregnant, Ma.”

  “Is that so?” Elaine asked as she took the dishes to the sink. “Well, go get dressed anyway, dear. I’ll call Dr. Maguire’s office and get you in to see her this morning.”

  Antonio glowered first at Anna, then at his wife. “No one has told me who has fathered this child.”

  “We’ll figure that out later.” Elaine patted his arm before she picked up the phone. “It’s not as if the baby’s going anywhere.”

  “Elaine! This is not a game. The honor of our daughter and our family is at stake,” Antonio roared at his wife.

  “Quiet, dear. I’m on the phone,” Elaine scolded.

  Anna used the moment to retreat from the kitchen and go upstairs to her bedroom. There, she sank onto the bed and dropped her head into her hands. The nausea had abated, but she still felt cold and clammy. Severe shock did that to a person, she had read once. How could she be pregnant?

  The temptation to crawl back between the soft sheets and pull the covers over her head was strong. But hiding wasn’t going to help. Rising, she went into the bathroom, dropped her robe and turned on the shower. Standing under the warm water, Anna ran a hand over her perfectly flat stomach.

  Anna knew in her heart what the doctor would say. What she would do with the truth, she didn’t know. One thing was certain: her night with Evan could never be wished—or pretended—away. No matter what he or she wanted, they were bound together. It was as certain as the life that had begun to grow inside her.

  ELAINE STOPPED THE SEDAN in front of the house and turned off the engine. As she and Anna got out of the car, her mother kept up a steady stream of inconsequential chatter that was simultaneously soothing and irritating. Soothing, because Elaine had not asked about the results of the pregnancy test. Annoying, because the question was sure to come; the chatter was just a delaying tactic. It would be better if Elaine just asked and got it over with quickly, like pulling off a Band-Aid in one quick rip of skin and hair follicles.

  “I hope your father remembered to turn on the oven. Those beans need at least three hours to simmer.”

  At the mention of Antonio, Anna stopped ten feet from the house. She knew he was lurking inside, ready to pounce on her the instant she set foot through the door. Her mother might have a tactful side, but her father certainly didn’t. She just couldn’t face him right now.

  “I’m going to drive over and see if Mimi’s around, okay?” Before Elaine could object, Anna had plucked the keys out of her hand.

  Elaine smiled as if she understood her daughter’s motivation. “That’s fine, dear. You know where I’ll be.”

  “I’ll be back in a while to give you a hand setting up for tonight.”

  “Take your time. I’m sure you two have some catching up to do.”

  In minutes, Anna was pushing open the door to the Laughing Gull. Luck was with her: Mimi was just putting a beer down in front of a customer at the bar.

  “Anna!” The other woman dashed out from behind the counter and they embraced warmly. “I hoped you’d stop by this afternoon, but I figured your mom would have you wrapped up tight.”

  “She tried. She likes to wring every possible second of mothering out of my visits,” Anna said with a smile. Ruefully, she realized she was giving Elaine a real dose this time. “Can you take a break?”

  “You bet. Let me call Dad and have him come over.”

  “Oh, but—”

  “It’s not a problem,” Mimi interrupted with a laugh. “He said he was going to putter around the house. By this time, Mom’s probably ready to get him out of her hair. Go sit down. Can I bring you a drink
?”

  “Just a lemonade.”

  Mimi hurried off. Anna found an empty table and sat. It was no accident that she chose the one farthest away from the bar and any other customer in the Gull. The table was next to a large window overlooking Crab Creek. She let her gaze rest on the water, hoping the smooth surface would soothe her turbulent spirits. In what seemed like moments, Mimi was back with two glasses and a dish of pretzels. She slid into the seat opposite Anna.

  “Welcome back,” Mimi said with a grin. Her blue eyes shone with happiness. “Temporarily, anyway.”

  “And that’s all it’s ever going to be.”

  “And don’t you forget it,” Mimi finished in unison with Anna.

  Both women laughed. When they were girls, they had spent long hours scheming and dreaming about leaving Crab Creek. Both had escaped, but after ten years, Mimi had returned. Now she was off on a second adventure with Ian that would take her farther away. Anna felt a pang of sadness. With Mimi gone, visits to Crab Creek would not be as fun.

  Anna shook off the gloomy thought and asked Mimi how preparations for the voyage were going. More than a week had passed since they spoke over the phone, so in addition to describing all the stuff Ian and she had done on the boat, her son Jack’s antics had to be recounted, too. Mimi had a sense of humor for the whole process, which was good since outfitting a small boat for months at sea required a strong one.

  They worked their way through the drinks and the pretzels with equal alacrity. When the glasses were empty, George Green appeared at their table.

  “Get you ladies another round?”

  “Mr. Green!” Anna stood and gave the older man a hug.

  “Why, look at you! You haven’t changed a bit. Welcome home. How about one of my special margaritas, Annie?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes. “Since you’re finally old enough to drink in here.”

  Anna grinned, but shook her head. “Just lemonade for me. I have to be on my toes for tonight.”

  “What? For a barbeque?” Mimi asked. “I thought you required alcohol when the clan gathered.”