Two Blue Lines (Crossing The Line #1) (8 page)

“Yes, Son. Plans? School. Your future.” He tilted his head. “With my daughter and grandchild.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Uh . . .” In a godsend, the back door opened and Mel appeared in a loose pink sundress and made her way to me.

“Hi,” she said, brushing a kiss to my cheek.

“Hi,” I said back with a genuine smile for her. Saved by the bell.

“Well, Son?” her dad interjected.

Maybe not.

“Oh.” My gaze shot back. I felt like a cornered mouse.

“What’s going on?” Mel asked, her hand unconsciously gripping mine in support.

“I was just asking your little boyfriend here how he plans to support you and the baby—”

“Now, wait just a minute,” my dad interrupted.

“Dad!” Melissa shouted at the same time.

“What?” her father demanded, slamming his beer down on the picnic table, sending out a rivulet of white foam. “I think I have a right to know how this is going to be handled.” He turned to my dad. “Don’t you wonder, too? They made a baby, now I wanna know what they’re gonna do to support it. Namely him!” He pointed a shaky finger in my face.

My dad’s mouth fell open. “What about her? It takes two to Tango.”

My gaze snapped to him, shocked. But thankful.

Both of the moms came out about then with Chris and Izzie tagging behind. Mel’s mom rushed over to put a hand on her husband. “You’re absolutely right, Robert.” She turned to my dad, her eyes calm. “This is both of their problem.”

Mel’s father took a deep breath. “Right. I just . . .” He turned sad eyes to Melissa. “She’s my only daughter.”

Mel sucked in a wobbly breath, her eyes clearly conflicted. Izzie tucked herself into my mom’s embrace as Chris studied us all with a detached stare. But I thought I caught a glimpse of something in his eyes . . . something, I’m not sure what. His light eyes seemed to be full of concern, yes, but . . . empathy? Maybe. Then it was gone and I turned my attention back to Mel’s father.

“Uh, sir?”

I waited until his steely gaze was fully focused on me. “To answer your question, I don’t really know how we’re gonna do this. But we’re going to finish school and I’m going to keep working and trying my best. And I love your daughter. I think that’s the best I can do.”

He studied my eyes a moment, flicked a glance to my dad, then nodded once. “All right. Fair enough. Let’s eat.”

“That went well.” Mel giggled up at me, her eyes twinkling in the setting sun.

I glanced behind her toward her house to make sure there were no prying eyes and no bratty sister. “I guess.”

She grabbed my hand as we ducked under the pilings of her carport. “Sorry about my dad.”

I shrugged. “It’s expected, I guess.”

She kicked at a couple of stones and her free hand cupped her belly as she stared down. “I suppose.” She glanced up at me. “Still. It was embarrassing.” Her head dipped and her voice came out whisper soft, “And I feel guilty I haven’t been able to get a job to help.” She met my eyes, hers shining with the twilight. “I have some babysitting money saved and I’ll go back to doing it as soon as I feel better.”

I leaned against her dad’s truck, tugging her in front of me, her back pressed to my chest, and laced our fingers around her stomach. I pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll take care of it. I don’t want you hurting or sick or bleeding again.”

She sighed and relaxed her head on my chest.

For just a moment, I pretended we were the old us again. Not the pregnant us. Not the us whose parents had to have a barbeque just to get to know each other because they were going to be grandparents. Not the us who were petrified more than we could admit.

Just us.

I let the fantasy last until the front door slammed and my mom hollered for Izzie. The real world beckoned.

Mel lifted her head and stiffened a bit in my arms. She must’ve felt it too.

I dropped my forehead into her mass of hair. “I have to work a lot these next few weeks,” I warned. “Mr. Ross asked me to cover some shifts that we’re short and I could use the extra cash.”

She nodded, spinning in my arms, her eyes full of guilt. “Okay.” Her arms circled my neck. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” I kissed her. “But it’s just a few shifts.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

July 5
th

We had Reed and his parents over today for a barbeque. But I knew even before it happened what it really was . . . The Great Inquisition Part II, by my Dad. He’s been priming for it for the past few weeks. I’ve heard him talking to Mom in hushed voices behind closed doors. But occasionally, his voice will raise with things like: “How is a kid like that going to support my daughter? Much less a baby?” Or: “Why couldn’t he have just kept it in his pants?” Or, my personal favorite: “Thank God we don’t have to worry about shit like this with Chris.”

Of course. The wonder brother. Did I ever mention that not only does he look just like my dad—the perfect Ken doll with blond hair and blue eyes, tall, athletic, smart—he’s also named for him? Christopher Maxwell Summers III. He’s nice, popular, thoughtful . . . everything I wish I could be and never will. I’m not genetically mapped for it. I’m wondering, for the millionth time, what I
was
genetically mapped for . . . what the baby’s genes will be.

But today, my dad was really on a roll, calling Reed out big time, and his father got on the bandwagon. “It takes two to Tango.” Seriously?

What would they say if they knew the truth? Would they hold me, tell me everything was going to be all right? Would they demand to know all the gory details? Would they do anything about it?

No.

I can’t let that happen.

The Temptation and Treachery of Aphrodite

Y
eah, well, a few shifts turned into three weeks of working, and I was more than ready for a weekend off. Three weeks of missing my girl. Three weeks of thinking about all that baby stuff, my mom’s on-again, off-again tear-fests, my little sister’s general bratiness, my dad’s accusing eyes, and I was nearly ready for a permanent hiatus.

I only wished I had more time to just be with Mel. Like we used to be. But we did the best we could.

And I guess some of the guys from work were warming up to me because they’d let Mike invite me with them to the bay for some fishing and fun today. And I was more than willing.

“Hey, babe.” I called Mel as I shoved my swim trunks into a duffel bag, along with a clean T-shirt and my iPod. “What’s goin’ on?”

She groaned. “I’m so tired. I’ve been lying around all day.”

I sat and one-handed my sneakers on. “You’re not still feeling sick, are you?”

“No.”

“And the bleeding’s gone, right?”

She yawned. “Yes. I’m just wiped. Peanut’s sucking the life outta me,” she said, adopting my nickname for the baby invader in her belly.

I smiled. “Well, how would you like to lay around on a boat?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m going with some guys from work and their girlfriends to the bay. You wanna come with me?” I pocketed my keys and my shades, picked up my duffel, and headed out.

She hesitated. “Girlfriends?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I grabbed a Coke and strode out past Izzie, who was watching something on the Disney Channel. “Tell Mom and Dad I went fishing with some friends,” I called out over my shoulder. “Mel?” I spoke into the phone when she was still silent.

“Yeah.”

“What’s the problem?” Then it dawned on me. “You’re not worried about those other girls, are you? I’m sure they’re nice. But if they’re not cool, you don’t have to hang out with them.”

“Is Jonah going?” her voice had taken on a strange quality. Distant. Almost frightened. What was her deal with Jonah lately?

“No. Why?”

She hesitated a beat too long. “Nothing. Just wondering.”

“Uh, okay,” I said, drawing out the ‘okay.’

She didn’t say anything else. I could half hear the wheels turning in her brain as she struggled with something. I ran down the front steps, rounding the pilings under the house. “What is it?” I tossed my pack in the backseat then sat and shoved the key in the ignition impatiently.

“I’m pregnant, Reed.”

“Yeah. And?” I sat motionless, waiting for her to explain what the heck that had to do with anything. She was quickly making a fun day on the water into a big freakin’ deal.

Silence.

“Mel, what does you being pregnant have to do with going to the bay?”

A breath. Two. “I can’t wear a swimsuit
now
,” she finally admitted.

I started the car. Jeez. “Mel. You don’t have to wear a swimsuit. Just put on some shorts and sit with me. It’ll be fun. We need the break.” I didn’t think it needed to be said that we could use a little bit of normal and a little less babyness. Even for one afternoon.

“But I don’t even know those people.”

What happened to my fun-loving, carefree girlfriend? “So?”

“Why would you want to hang out with them, anyway?” Now she was whining. I rolled my eyes and put the car in reverse.

“Listen,” I said. “I’m going. Do you want to come or not?”

“No. I’m tired.” Her voice went from whiny to icy sharp in a flash. “Have fun.” Then she hung up on me.

WTF?

I threw my phone on the seat and drove to the docks, ignoring the impulse to call her back. I wouldn’t play her hormonal games. She could just take a nap, or whatever she needed, and talk to me when she was feeling normal again.

When the blue gray of the water came into view with the sunlight glinting like a zillion shards of brilliant diamond, I couldn’t help the smile that lifted my lips. I really needed this break.

I parked, grabbed my drink and duffel bag, and made my way toward the small crowd already gathered on the dock by a shiny pontoon boat that reminded me of a long distant memory of my grandpa’s boat and fishing with my dad. As I approached, they parted like the Red Sea and greeted me with smiles, pats on the back, and a couple good-natured cat-calls.

“’Bout time you got here, Young,” Mike said with a smartass grin.

“Hey, dude.” I tossed my duffel down next to everyone else’s. “How’s it goin’?”

“Good. We’ll be shoving off in a minute. Everyone’s here.”

I glanced around at everyone—Mike, his girlfriend, Mackenzie, Aaron and Dean from the movie theater, and their girlfriends . . . I didn’t catch their names. There was a blonde in a purple bikini talking to Dean’s girl at the end of the dock who looked slightly familiar.

Mike hefted a cooler and the last of the bags onto the boat then turned to me. “Ready?” He glanced over to the girls when he saw where I was looking. “That’s Chloe. She’s Sierra’s friend.”

“Sierra?”

“Yeah. Dean’s lady.”

“Oh.” I shrugged and jumped up onto the boat. Why would he think I’d care?

It took several minutes for the girls to load up, but finally we shoved off from the dock and began to skim across the smooth water, the sun melting the worries from my soul. I tipped my head at Mike then laid on a bench in the rear with a towel for a pillow, popped in my iPod, and enjoyed the ride, letting the steady rhythm of the water lull me.