Her face fell. She looked down. “I see,” she said.
He put a finger under her chin, lifting her face so their eyes met. “We’re in this together, but we’re not a couple. We never were.”
She took a breath. “If I’m going to carry the baby, it would be nice if I also had some affection.”
He put a small kiss on her brow. “You have that. As the mother of my child.”
“You’re absolutely sure nothing could grow between us? As we have this baby together?”
“Terri, my intention is to be good to you and be a good father. But if there was something more between us, we both would have known before this, before now. I think what we can be is good friends, good parents. Let’s shoot for that, huh?”
“Sure,” she said with a sad smile. “Sure. That’s something, I guess.”
“I’m sorry, Terri. That’s all I have. And until that night I called, I think that’s all you had. Think about it—we never even had phone calls. We just weren’t that connected. Let’s move ahead. Let’s see if we can make this work for the child.”
“Then I guess it’ll have to be enough,” she said, pulling her arms from around him.
For the first time he thought, what if she takes this child away from me? What if she finds someone else, some guy, willing to be that husband and father? And it puts me in the way? I have to know more about this kind of thing, he thought. I have to know what I can do about this.
“That’s all I can ask.” He gave her shoulders a brief, friendly squeeze. “I’ll be in touch.”
Vanessa had almost every piece of clothing she owned spread out across the bed. She was trying to pack for a trip to Grants Pass to visit Matt’s parents and she wanted to look her best. She had asked her mother-in-law, Carol, if she would please invite Paul to dinner. She hadn’t seen him since the baby was born and she’d so like to get his attention. But when Vanessa looked in the mirror, she saw a waist that was still too thick, breasts too heavy for her tops and thighs that felt like tree trunks. She couldn’t get into any of her old clothes and she’d be damned if she’d wear maternity clothes. The baby was almost two months old.
Vanessa had always been sure of herself. Her mother had called her feisty, her father proclaimed her a handful, her best friends from the airline told her she was a fearless extrovert and counted on her to handle difficult situations with pilots or passengers. Matt had called her his fiery-haired vixen.
Around Carol, however, she lacked confidence. Carol was chic, perfect, successful and took self-assurance to the next level. Vanessa and Carol seemed to disagree on everything, and Carol managed to get her way at all times by wearing the most engaging smile. Carol Rutledge was possibly the only woman alive Vanessa had trouble standing up to. On top of that, Vanni felt she looked fat.
Frustrated, she pulled on a pair of jeans with an elastic waistband and her riding boots. She found her father in the great room. “Hey, Dad. Matt’s asleep and should be down for another hour or two. Can you listen for him while I take a short ride? I won’t be long.”
“Take your time,” he said, barely looking up from his book.
“Thanks.”
At least she was finally cleared to ride again. The exercise and glorious spring weather was good for her spirits. When she got to the stable, she noticed the door to the tack room was ajar. She heard something, hopefully not a mouse. She pushed the door open a bit further and saw her younger brother Tom sitting on the bench, paging through a book. “Whatcha doin?” she asked.
He jumped in surprise, slammed the book shut and hid it behind his back. His cheeks brightened and he looked like he wanted to die. She walked into the room and reached behind him, grabbing onto the book. She withdrew The Joy Of Sex.
“Is this mine?” she asked.
He shrugged.
“This is mine!” she said.
“Come on, Vanni. Be a sport, huh?”
“Where did you find this?”
“I had to clean out the garage for Dad,” he said.
“But this must have been packed up in my stuff,” she said. “You’re not, you know—using this to—You know.”
“What?” he asked, brows drawn together in confusion. Then he caught her meaning; she thought he was using the pictures to beat off. “No! Jesus, no!”
“Well, then what?”
He shrugged. “I was just a little curious. That’s all.”
She flipped through the pages. It was an old book, but quite graphic. “You and Brenda aren’t having enough joy?”