“Shit,” she said. “I can run a background on him at the station, see if there’s anything in his past that might be coming back to haunt him.”
“No, thanks. Really. Don’t do that,” I said.
“Okay, if you change your mind, let me know,” she said. “Meanwhile, check this out. Minestrone, fresh from my mom’s.”
Laura took the lid off the soup. I glimpsed the shiny orange grease around the edge of the chunky red liquid and clapped my hand over my mouth. I ran for the bathroom and threw up again. Once I was cleaned up and I’d rinsed the horrible peach taste out of my mouth again, I came out of the bathroom.
“Are you pregnant?” she demanded.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Uh, no.” I replied. I looked at the date on my phone and realized my period was late. It had been a little over a month since I slept with Max the first time. “Maybe,” I said.
“I’ll be right back.”
Laura took off and was back in ten minutes with a white paper bag from the pharmacy. She went in the bathroom with me and held my hands while I waited, afraid to look. I sat on the closed toilet, chewing my lip. I wanted to hide under a blanket, wanted to stop this from happening. What had I gotten myself into?
“Two blue lines, sis,” she said when the timer went off. “Both positive. You’ve got a bun in the oven. A tiny bearded lumberjack growing in there.”
“Oh my God,” I said. Tears sprang to my eyes. I had no idea what to do.
28
Max
Jenna had agreed by phone and my attorneys wired her the documents. Once they were signed, Robert transferred the money into her account. When the owners of the White Birch confirmed she’d checked out, Sadie and I packed up. I hadn’t spoken to Rachel in days. I tried to call her, but she didn’t pick up. Worry was starting to creep in. I’d taken off so suddenly and been so absorbed in everything going on with Jenna that I hadn’t given her any explanation for why I left all at once. I still hadn’t figured out what to say to her, how much to disclose. She deserved to know, but I was also aware how it looked. How I was a wealthy man who had paid off the mother of his child to make her go away. There wasn’t a pretty side to that. I wanted her to trust that I acted for the best, but I could also see how it wasn’t the most flattering portrait of me. I needed to speak with her, get her to understand that I was protecting my family. That I’d stop at nothing to keep my family safe.
With Jenna out of our lives, I felt like I could concentrate on what Rachel and I had begun together. I just needed to make sure she was still interested in a relationship with me after the way I had acted, taking off like that.
When we got back to Rockford Falls, we went to the diner. The waitress said Rachel wasn’t there. I wanted to leave and go find her, but Sadie wanted a grilled cheese, so we stayed there and ate. After that, we headed over to Rachel’s apartment. I didn’t like the idea of showing up unannounced at her home, but she wasn’t at work and wasn’t answering my calls. I wanted to make sure she was okay.
I knocked on her door. After a minute I heard shuffling footsteps and she opened the door. She looked pale with dark circles under her eyes. I wanted to pull her into my arms, but I hesitated. She shook her head.
“I haven’t been feeling the best. It’s not a great time for a visit,” she smiled a little at Sadie. “I don’t want you to catch this nasty bug I’ve got. I’ll call you guys later if that’s okay.”
I wanted to say something to her, but not in front of Sadie. “Get to feeling better,” I said instead, “let me know if you need anything.”
She went back inside and closed the door. I took Sadie home and got her a bath and settled her with a story and song. When she was asleep, I let myself think about Rachel and what was going on. She wanted me out of there, and she did look like she’d been sick. There was something else going on. I had no right to ask, especially after I’d stonewalled her when she suspected something was amiss after Jenna showed up. But I was concerned for her.
I was scrolling through my call log, trying to decide if I should ring her or if she’d be resting. I saw a call I didn’t remember making, a two-minute call to Rachel’s number from the afternoon I went to Jenna’s room at the bed and breakfast. I stared at it. Shit. It must have been a butt dial. Voicemails record for exactly two minutes. So there was a good chance she had gotten not only a garbled pocket dial call from me, but a voicemail excerpt of our conversation. No wonder she didn’t want anything to do with me, I thought ruefully. I wasn’t exactly polite that day. I owed Rachel an explanation. If I could even get her to hear me out, considering the fact that she had probably heard something pretty damning on the voicemail. I winced as I wondered which part of that exchange she’d overheard accidentally.