Maybe This Time (6 page)

“I agree fathers have rights but...” Emma glanced at Alana and braced herself. This time she
knew
how her sister would react. “It’s Darcy.”

“Darcy.”
Alana exchanged a shocked look with Dave. “After all you went through, I can’t believe you slept with that jerk. Please don’t tell me you two are getting back together.”

Sometimes she wished she’d hadn’t told her sister how Darcy not only blamed her for Holly’s death but had also flatly refused to have more children. Not that she wasn’t still angry with him herself. But when Alana attacked him so vehemently she had to fight the urge to defend him. And that confused the hell out of her.

“No, it was a one-night stand. We both agreed on that. In hindsight, even that much was a mistake.”

“Fathers have rights, yes, but Darcy doesn’t want to be a father,” Alana said. “Don’t tell him. He doesn’t deserve a child. You definitely don’t need any more crap from him.”

Crap like being swept away on the dance floor. Crap like being kissed breathless on a silver moonlit sea. Crap like being made love to as if she were a sex goddess.

Emma sighed. Making love with Darcy that night had been wonderful. But it was only a fraction of who they were together, not the whole. As well as being her closest friend and soul mate, he also had the power to hurt her more deeply than anyone else. Not that he did so on purpose, but she would have to be nuts to deliberately put herself in harm’s way. “You’re right. I don’t need any more crap. But I still have to tell him.”

“What if he wants to be part of your baby’s life?”

A brief surge of hope caught her off guard. She would love to be a family again—she and Darcy and their child. She quickly tamped down the hope. Darcy had never been part of Holly’s life in the way Emma had expected when their little girl was born. He was too busy with the pub, with his friends, anything but being a family man. Oh, he played with Holly and took great delight in her but he wasn’t a hands-on dad who changed diapers or fed her or did any of the mundane caring things that led to real bonding—at least in Emma’s opinion. Since Holly died, he never wanted to look at old photos or talk about her, something that would have given Emma comfort and helped her grieve. It was almost as if he wanted to forget Holly had ever been born.

“He can’t be part of my new baby’s life because I won’t allow it,” Emma said flatly. “But that won’t be a problem. You’re right...he doesn’t want a child.”

“Take your lawyer with you when you tell him,” Dave advised. “Make sure he knows he’ll have to pay child support.”

“I’m not going to ask for support. Getting pregnant is something I want—even though this pregnancy was accidental. This baby will be one hundred percent mine.”

“Well, congratulations then,” Dave said. “This could work out well, right, Alana?” Placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder, he turned to Emma. “We’re trying for another baby.”

“Oh, wow.” Emma leaned across the table and hugged her sister. “We might have twin cousins again.”

“Hmm, yeah.” Alana glanced at the wall clock above the breakfast nook. “I’d better get the cake and ice cream ready.”

Emma frowned at her evasive answer. Didn’t Alana want to share baby stuff with her again? This was a real opportunity for them to heal their relationship and bond over a new set of babies. She opened her mouth to speak, but Alana was heading to the counter for the pink-frosted cake and directing Dave to get out plates.

Reluctantly, Emma rose, too. “I’ll go. I’m meeting friends in Summerside tonight. I might drop into the pub and see Darcy after. No sense putting off telling him.”

Alana walked Emma out. Emma paused in the living room to say goodbye to Tessa, taking her away briefly from a game of Pin the Wings on the Fairy. At the door, Alana squeezed Emma’s arm. “I’ll go with you when you tell him if you want.”

“Thanks, but this is something I have to do by myself.” Emma gave her sister a hug and held her for a moment. “I would love it if you would be my birthing partner.”

“I’d be honored.” Alana drew back. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t immediately thrilled for you. If you’re happy, then I’m happy.”

Emma hesitated. Alana didn’t look particularly happy. Now that they’d made contact again she didn’t want to be the cause of her sister’s distress. “Are you worried I’m going to steal your thunder, having another baby at the same time?”

Alana shook her head. She glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone was near then clutched Emma’s hand. “I don’t want another baby. Dave is pushing for it. I want to go back to work. In fact, I’ve applied for a job at the gym, teaching group fitness classes.”

“Oh, but...Tessa’s three. It’s a good time. In fact, you’re behind schedule.” Emma smiled. “You always said you wanted three children spaced two and a half years apart.”

“That was before...”

“Before what?”

A hint of desperation flashed in Alana’s eyes, but she didn’t finish her thought. Instead she took another tack. “The longer I’m out of the work force the harder it will be to get back in. Especially in my field, where I have to be super fit. If I want to move up, maybe get a permanent position at a gym, then I need to think about my career.”

Emma had been under the impression Alana chose to be a fitness instructor so she could teach classes part-time and stay home with her kids. “But I thought—”

“Sorry, Emma, the kids are finished. I’ve got to go.” Alana hugged her. “Good luck tonight telling Darcy.”

“Thanks. I’m sure it’ll be fine. He’ll be relieved he’s not expected to do anything.”

Emma walked slowly to her car. What was going on with Alana? Something was definitely bothering her. Now Emma regretted more than ever not keeping in better contact with her. It was a shame her sister had done a complete one-eighty about her plans for a family. Tessa was the sweetest kid.

Emma looked at the house. As if she’d sensed her aunt’s thoughts the little girl stood at the window, waving goodbye. She was wearing the tiara. Emma blew her a kiss. Alana didn’t know how lucky she was.

And now Emma was lucky, too, to be having another baby. She hoped Darcy wouldn’t be too upset, but even if he was, she couldn’t be more thrilled.

* * *

A
NOTHER
F
RIDAY NIGHT
at the pub, another big crowd.

Darcy held the pub door open for the departing white-haired woman in blue jeans and sensible shoes. Tony had brought his grandmother, Shirley, in for a drink on her seventieth birthday. “Happy birthday. See you next time.”

“Thank you, Darcy. I had a very enjoyable evening.” Shirley clutched the ten dollars she’d won from Tony’s mates at the shuffleboard table.

“You’re a shark,” Darcy said, and winked at Tony.

“Cheers, mate,” Tony said to Darcy. “This way, Gran.” Tattooed arm extended, he gently steered his grandmother toward his utility truck.

Darcy glanced across the street. The lights were on in the vacant shop. Wayne was inside, reeling out a tape measure. So, it was starting to happen. Darcy wasn’t against competition, but he had to admit the location of the wine bar wasn’t the greatest. Why couldn’t Wayne have gone to Mornington or Frankston?

Darcy was about to go inside when he noticed Emma walking toward the pub. As she passed beneath the streetlight her red hair glowed. What was she doing here? It couldn’t be because she’d missed him. He hadn’t heard from her since the cruise. Not that he’d expected, or wanted, to. All that angst was too much hard work.

He had to admire the graceful way she moved, though, even walking across the road. She wore a knit wrap dress that clung to her curves and her hips swayed almost as if she was dancing. Darcy had gone to a Latin dance club in the city last week but had left after half an hour. It hadn’t felt right. Now dancing was lost to him along with football and an appreciation for a fine whiskey.

Emma stopped at the curb to let a car go by. Darcy ducked inside the pub, seeking his own turf and friendly, familiar faces. Maybe she wasn’t even coming here. Maybe she’d been visiting someone and her car was simply parked on this side of the street.

Emma walked through the door. Nope, guess not.

A pair of very young women slid onto newly vacated bar stools. He turned to them, grateful for the diversion. “What’s your pleasure, ladies?”

“Two apple martinis,” the blonde said. The brunette nodded, giggling.

Darcy smiled indulgently. “Can I see your ID?”

They dutifully pulled out their wallets and he scrutinized their driver’s licenses. They were legal. Just. “Two appletinis coming right up.”

Emma found an empty seat at a table next to the wall and fiddled with the drinks menu, flipping through the plastic-coated cards listing the specialty beers and ciders. She hadn’t tried to make eye contact yet. Darcy knew because he kept her in his peripheral vision as he poured shots of green-apple schnapps and vodka into the cocktail shaker along with crushed ice. He made a big show of shaking the container and joking with the girls as he strained the frosty mix into cocktail glasses. They giggled some more as they sipped through tiny straws.
Eat your heart out, Wayne.

Emma was still waiting to be served. Damn it, where was Kirsty, or Elise, the weekend barmaid? Hefting heavy trays of beer on the other side of the pub, no doubt. Darcy lifted the partition separating the bar from the room and went to Emma’s table. “What can I get you?”

“Can you sit down a moment? We need to talk.”

He gave an incredulous laugh. “Em, this is the busiest hour of the busiest night of the week. Come back tomorrow morning, then we can talk. Meantime, would you like a chardonnay? It’s on the house.”

“No, thank you. I can’t drink alcohol.”

“Since when? You love your chardy.” The only time she’d ever refused a glass of wine was when—

Her eyes were locked with his. Even so it took two long beats before realization hit him like a cold wet bar towel across the face. No, she couldn’t be.

“That’s right,” she said. “I’m pregnant.”

He dropped into the chair opposite. He shook his head. Blinked a few times. “Wh-whose is it?”

“Yours.” She gathered her purse and started to rise. “I’ve told you, now I can leave.”

“Hang on!” He grabbed her arm, pulling her down. “Are you positive it’s mine? We used—” He glanced around and leaned closer, lowering his voice. “We used condoms both times.”

A trio of guys with their girlfriends filed in, calling out hello, forcing him to find a smile and a cheery wave. Across the room a table of college students signaled for another round of beer.

“You’re right, this is a bad time,” Emma said. “I’ll come back tomorrow.”

“No.” Darcy dragged a hand through his hair. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you positive it’s mine?”

“I haven’t been with anyone else since our divorce.”

Was he dreaming? Had to be. Because this was his worst nightmare ever. He spotted Kirsty and called to her. “Get Brad off his break to tend the bar, will you? Table four needs another round and I’d like a double Scotch.”

Kirsty’s blue eyes widened under her dyed black bangs at this unusual request. He never drank and never sat down when the bar was this crowded.

“It’s an emergency,” he said. “Emma, would you like a soda water, or something?”

“Nothing, thanks.” She still had her purse on her lap, poised to leave.

“Thanks, Kirsty, that’s all.” When she’d left he turned to Emma, his fingers drumming the table. “Walk me through this.”

“There’s no big mystery,” she said impatiently. “We had sex. I conceived. Basic biology.”

A simmering rage bubbled beneath his surface calm. “You did this on purpose. You couldn’t get your way while we were married. So you decided to go ahead and have a baby anyway. You played me for a fool.”

“We used condoms, you dope. How can you think I did this on purpose?”

“I don’t know, a little nick with a fingernail—”

She held up her nails, filed almost to the quick. How could he have forgotten? Germs lived beneath fingernails.

“Teeth?” he suggested. “You could have done practically anything while you were down there. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I wouldn’t have had a clue.”

Emma’s color deepened. “Well, I didn’t.”

Kirsty set his Scotch on the table, her curious gaze lingering on Emma. She’d started at the pub three months ago and didn’t know Emma was his ex-wife.

“Thank you, Kirsty.” He tried but couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice. An edge directed at Emma.

He started to take a drink, but one whiff of the alcohol and he didn’t want Scotch, after all. He set the glass carefully on a coaster. “What do you expect me to do about this?”

“Nothing. Telling you is merely a courtesy because fathers have a right to know. I’m not asking for anything. I don’t want your money or your time. I don’t want your interference or token parental effort. I’m going to raise this baby on my own.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “Is that clear?”

“Crystal.” She had it all worked out how she would manage the baby without him. Typical. She’d done that with Holly, too. Made him feel as if he was clumsy and useless. And he had to admit she was right, witness the time he’d let Holly roll off the changing table. That one incident had been a game-changer, a turning point in their little family. From then on he and Emma both accepted that he wasn’t good with babies. He knew how to play with them but he didn’t know how to care for them. That’s how he saw it and he was pretty sure she did, too, because after that she didn’t let him help.

But whether he was a good dad or not, a baby was on the way. No matter what Emma said about not wanting his money, he couldn’t shirk his responsibilities. He wasn’t made that way. “I’ll set up an account for the child.”

Money was the easy part. Worse would be the whole emotional angle he would have to deal with. Another baby. Another fragile, vulnerable,
mortal
human being he was biologically programmed to love more than his own life. He couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t. The pub noise became a roaring in his ears. The walls began to close in on him.

“Darcy? Are you okay?” Emma’s voice seemed to come from very far away.