“Get serious.”
He motioned to the gate of the Botetourt Street garden. “Want to do some necking in the garden?”
She peeked over the red brick fence at a Doberman. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea.”
“This is tough.”
“What’s the plan for tomorrow? Will you be bringing Timmy over in the morning?”
“Yes. Everyone’s driving to Washington to be tourists.” His eyes lit up. “No one will be here all day! We could have a sexfest.”
“As much as I’d like to, I can’t just leave my parents to have a sexfest. Besides, you work tomorrow.”
“You could bring Timmy back to my house at six. We could have a short sexfest.”
Megan wasn’t sure she wanted a short sexfest. The more Pat dragged his feet and evaded proposing, the more she wanted to get married.
Chapter 8
Megan let herself into Pat’s dark house and unbundled Timmy. She set him in the walker, made a fire in the fireplace, and lit every light she could find.
“It’s a drizzly, dreary night,” she told Timmy. “We’ve got to zap a little cozy into it.”
She made a pot of coffee and set it on the kitchen table. She didn’t want to drink it. She just wanted to smell it.
“Better. Much better. I think we’ve succeeded in the cozy department.”
She snitched a piece of turkey from the fridge and started Timmy’s supper heating.
Ten minutes later Pat came home. “This house is so nice. It’s miserable outside, and my house is all warm and—”
“Cozy?”
“Yeah. Cozy.” He pulled Megan to him and kissed her hungrily. This wasn’t such a bad arrangement, he thought. It was like rent-a-family. He was getting all the benefits of a warm house and warm bed without paying the price of everlasting responsibility. He was chagrined to find it not entirely satisfactory. Deep down, he wanted everlasting responsibility.
“Are you here for a short sexfest?”
She pushed him away playfully. “Crickey, Pat, not in front of the baby. All you think about anymore is S-E-X.”
“It’s not all I think about, but I have to admit, it’s been at the front of my mind a lot lately.”
Megan had similar mind problems. Especially after being kissed like that. Good thing Timmy was clattering across the floor in his walker, she thought, because she was putty in Patrick Hunter’s hands. Timmy was a loud reminder that there were important things to be discussed.
“Maybe we should be talking instead of sexfesting.”
Pat nodded in agreement. So much for rent-a-family, he thought. Besides, she was right. They’d procrastinated long enough. Maybe if they talked about their relationship, they’d find a solution. At least they’d know where they stood.
They both groaned at the knock on the door. “What are the chances that’s your mother?” Pat asked. “She’s probably come to tell us she’s hired a hall and a caterer.”
Megan had to smile. At least Pat knew he was being railroaded and could joke about it. That put him one up on Steve and Dave. She opened the door and gasped. It was Tilly Coogan.
The young girl frantically looked around, saw Timmy, and ran to him. She lifted him out of the walker and hugged him and kissed him. She turned to Megan with tears streaming down her face. “I’ve missed him,” she said simply.
“Mum, mum, mum,” Timmy shouted.
Megan reached out to Pat for support. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She’d convinced herself Tilly wouldn’t be back. She’d been thinking about marriage…adoption. She’d learned nursery rhymes and bought books on child rearing. She knew how to play eensy weensy spider. How dare Tilly Coogan come back to claim her baby after abandoning him?
Megan felt her temper flare and just as quickly dissipate. Tilly hadn’t abandoned Timmy. She’d temporarily entrusted him to the care of her pediatrician.
Megan was left with a painful emptiness in her chest where the anger had been. She noticed a young man standing in the doorway. “Are you with Tilly?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said softly.
Tilly wiped the tears away with the heel of her hand. “I’m sorry. It was rude of me not to make introductions. It’s just that I’ve been so lonesome for Timmy. I knew he was in good hands, but I’ve still been awful lonesome.”
She kissed Timmy on the top of his downy head and pointed to the young man, now awkwardly standing beside her.
“This is Timmy’s daddy, Leonard Bell. Lenny, this is Dr. and Mrs. Hunter.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Leonard said shyly. “It was very nice of you to take care of Timmy. I’m sorry to have caused everyone so much trouble.” He stared, wide-eyed, at the little boy. “Til, he’s beautiful.”
Tilly beamed. “I’ve done a good job of bringing him up. He knows all kinds of things, and he’s healthy, too. You’re going to be proud of him, Lenny.”
Megan thought if Lenny got any prouder he’d explode. “So,” she said, making a supreme attempt to still the tremor in her voice, “what’s going on here?”
Tilly took a deep breath and closed her eyes, as if what she was about to say was so wonderful, she couldn’t believe she was saying it. “We’re getting married.”
Lenny looked affectionately at Tilly. “I guess we owe you folks some explanations. Tilly and I have been sweethearts ever since seventh grade. I asked her to marry me when we graduated from high school, but she said no. She said we were too young to get married, so I got myself into a snit and went and joined the Navy.”
“Then I found out I was pregnant,” Tilly said. She fumbled with the collar of Timmy’s terry-cloth pajamas. “I thought I was being so smart, saying we shouldn’t get married until we grew up more, but I wasn’t smart enough not to get pregnant. When I found out about the baby, Lenny was halfway around the world. I couldn’t go to him anyway. We’d had a terrible fight.”
She moved into the reassuring arm Lenny held out to her. “I felt I was an embarrassment to everyone. I couldn’t bring myself to have an abortion, and I didn’t want my mom and my grandma to know I was pregnant…so I left. I said I was going north to get a job.”
She raised her chin a fraction of an inch. “I think I did pretty good, too. I waited tables until I was ready to deliver, and then afterward I tried to make money typing term papers, so I could be home with Timmy.
“Two weeks ago I got a phone call from Lenny. My mom gave him my cell phone number. He said his ship had finally come home and he still wanted to marry me. Can you imagine? After all that time, and he didn’t even know about Timmy. No one knew. Lenny still wanted to marry me.”
He hugged her to him. “I should have written when I was away, but I’m not much good at that sort of thing.”
Tilly looked at Pat with apologetic eyes. “I had to go home to explain to my mom and my grandma and to see Lenny. I couldn’t take the baby until I’d made sure everything was okay. I had to be sure Lenny really loved me. I guess I wasn’t thinking so good, but I just had to get home and straighten my life out.”
Pat could feel Megan’s cold hand holding tightly to his, and his heart went out to her. She’d let herself love Timmy, and now she was losing her baby. He wanted to reassure her that Timmy would be well cared for. He wanted to give her a little more time to adjust. “What did your mom and grandma say about Timmy?”
Tilly’s face broke into a wide grin. “They were so excited, they didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. Boy, I was really dumb to go off on my own like that. I didn’t understand much about love. You don’t stop loving someone just because they make a mistake.”
“We’re packing up Tilly’s apartment now,” Lenny said. “Then we’re going back to Louisiana, and we’re going to get married right away. Tilly’s going to live with her mom, until I get out of the Navy.”
Megan compressed her lips. She didn’t want to meddle, but she couldn’t help worrying about Timmy. “What about a job? Will you be able to take care of a family
?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ve learned all about computers in the Navy. I’ll be able to get a good job when I get out.”
Megan looked around at the toys and books and baby furniture. “Timmy has so many things here,” she said absently, resigning herself to the finality of it, feeling utterly lost.
Pat gave Tilly her son’s snowsuit. “You can get Timmy dressed, and I’ll pack his clothes.”
In a matter of minutes Pat had assembled several bags of baby paraphernalia. He handed Timmy his favorite blanket and kissed him. “We’re going to miss you, kid.” He turned to Megan. “Meg, would you like to kiss Timmy good-bye?”
She shook her head. It would be too painful to kiss him good-bye. She stood with her arms tightly clasped across her chest. She was afraid to move or speak for fear of bursting into tears. Tilly and Lenny seemed like nice people. This was a happy time for them. She didn’t want to ruin it, and she didn’t want to embarrass herself. It had been foolish of her to think she could keep Timmy, but she’d followed her heart. Damn, she thought. She was such a dope.
Pat closed the door after Tilly and Lenny and Timmy. “He’ll be fine. He belongs with his mother. Now he’s even got a father and a grandmother and a great-grandmother.”
“I know.”
“Doesn’t make it hurt any less, does it?”
“No.”
Pat looked at the toe of his shoe for a minute, then walked into the kitchen and got a dinner plate.
“What’s this?” she asked as he handed it to her.
He grinned. “I thought you might want to smash something.”
“Please, I feel foolish enough….”
Actually, she did want to smash something. She realized she was practically smothering in anger. It wasn’t fair. Every time she made a real commitment to someone, he left her. She hefted the plate and threw it at the fireplace. It smashed, and shards of china scattered on the hearth and braided rug.
“Feel better? Pat asked.
“No.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. This could get expensive, he thought. Megan looked mad enough to go through a service for forty. “Want another plate?”
What she wanted was another baby, Megan realized. She liked being a mother. She was just getting good at it. She didn’t want to go back to being a single person, rattling around in the big old farmhouse by herself.
She looked at Pat and thought a short sexfest might not be such a bad idea. She couldn’t have Tilly’s baby, but she was pretty sure she could have Pat’s. It’d be a terrific baby, too. Cute little nose, big brown eyes, perfect teeth. They should get married, of course, but there was no reason they couldn’t get started making a baby right away. Why waste valuable time? If she got pregnant now, she could have a baby by the end of the summer.
The trick was getting Pat to make a baby. He’d been very careful about that sort of thing. She might have to take matters into her own hands, she thought slyly.
Pat uneasily shifted his weight from foot to foot. Megan was looking at him as if he were lunch. No, sir, he thought, life with Megan Murphy was never dull. He didn’t have a clue what was going through her mind, but the look in her eyes raised all the little hairs on the back of his neck. This was a desperate woman. This was a woman on the edge.
“Maybe we should go out to dinner,” he suggested. If she was planning a double suicide, they’d be safer in a crowded place. She’d feel better after a good meal, and he’d have a chance to talk to her, reason with her.
Dinner? she thought. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. It would give her a chance to really get Pat in the mood. A romantic restaurant. The perfect place for a proposal. Once she got the proposal out of the way, it would be clear sailing to motherhood. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. This time it was going to work. She wasn’t going to get dumped on. She wasn’t going to get left at the altar. She was going to get pregnant.
“All right,” she said. “Dinner. That’s a great idea. Someplace dark and quiet. The darker the better.”
Pat swallowed and racked his brain for the noisiest best-lit place in Williamsburg.
“I’m going upstairs to freshen up,” Megan said. “Would you call my parents and tell them I’m going to be later than expected?”
“What are you going to do upstairs?”
“It’s of a personal nature.”
“You’re not too depressed, are you? I mean, you wouldn’t jump out a window or anything, would you?”
“Pat, if I jumped out a window, the best I could do would be to break my knees.”
“Not if you jumped head first.”
“Well, yes, but that would ruin my hair.”
That made him feel better. Worrying about your hair was a sign of good mental health. He’d read about it in a mental-health course.
Megan ran up the stairs and checked out the candles, making sure there were fresh tapers in all the holders. Then she turned down the bedcovers and closed the curtains. She didn’t want to waste any time once they got back from the restaurant. They’d have a memorable meal, a knock-your-socks-off proposal, then they’d rush back here and jump into bed.
She brushed her hair and applied fresh lipstick and a dusting of blusher. She felt much better, she thought, smoothing her sweater over her hips. She really had her life under control now. Good thing she was such a levelheaded person. Some women would have gone off the deep end over losing a baby, but not her. She was flexible. She could find creative solutions to problems like this.
Pat cleaned up the broken china and doused the fire while he waited for Megan. He looked at the empty crib and felt a surge of sorrow pass through his heart. It had been nice having a baby in the house. Someday he’d have children of his own. A whole pack of them, with dogs and cats and hamsters.
For now, he had to admit, the sadness of losing Timmy was being replaced with a sense of relief. Timmy belonged with Tilly and Lenny. And Patrick Hunter belonged with Megan Murphy, he thought wistfully. That was a tougher problem to solve. At least they no longer had the pressures of an instant family. There really was no reason they had to get married immediately.
He looked toward the stairs and wondered what Megan was doing. Probably in the bathroom, crying her eyes out. She’d seemed a trifle desperate for a few minutes, but he was sure she’d be fine. She wasn’t the sort to go to pieces and do something dumb…was she?
“Megan,” he called, “you okay?”
“I’m fine. Peachy-dandy. I’m almost done here. I’ll be right down.”
He zipped himself into his jacket and paced in front of the door. They needed to go someplace loud tonight, he decided. Someplace fun. He didn’t know any loud, fun places, so he called his answering service and asked for advice.
“Go to the Pit,” he was told. “Great chili dogs, and you can drink beer and play darts.”
The beer part sounded good, but he didn’t know if he wanted to put a sharp object in Megan’s hand. But then he told himself he was being stupid. Next he’d be looking for an Ethiopian restaurant; so she’d have to eat with her fingers.
Megan bounced down the stairs. “Here I am. Let’s get going. Let’s not waste a single minute. Gotta get going and eat, eat, eat.”
He looked at her suspiciously. “Why are you so happy? Have you been drinking my after-shave?”
“I like being happy. You wouldn’t want me to be a party pooper, would you?”
He put his hand to her forehead. She didn’t feel feverish, but her eyes had a feverish glitter to them. “You’re sounding a little…um, crazy.”
She looked insulted. Her lower lip trembled and her eyes flooded with tears. “Boy, that’s the thanks I get for trying to be happy. Here I am trying to make the best of things, and you tell me I’m crazy.”
Oh, great, Dr. Hunter. Wonderful bedside manner, Pat chided himself. Now he’d made her cry.
“Don’t pay any attention to me,” he said.
“This business with Timmy has me off balance.”
She gave him a hug. “Don’t worry. I’ve got it all figured out.”
“You do?”
“Trust me.”
He smiled lamely. He trusted her…but he still wasn’t going to let her handle any darts.
He escorted her to his car and watched her crawl across the front seat. He’d gotten his window to stay up, but he still hadn’t fixed the passenger door. He slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition. Nothing happened. He tried it again and was treated to a low whimper. He sighed. “It’s the battery. I need a new one.”
“You need a new car.”
“I could get one if I fired my receptionist. I can’t make payments on both a car and a receptionist.”
They crawled out of Pat’s car and into Megan’s. Pat tried it three times before it started, with a cough, and backfired. He slowly backed out of the driveway and rumbled down the street. “You need a new muffler,” he shouted over the noise.
“I could get one if I stopped eating,” she shouted back.
When Pat pulled up to a building lit by gaudy neon lights, her mouth dropped open. “This is dark and quiet?”
“I felt like beer and chili dogs. They make great chili dogs here.”
“Okay,” she said, “whatever turns you on.” She moved closer and slid her hand up his leg. “You are turned on, aren’t you?”
“Um, well, I wasn’t…”
She kissed him just below his ear and gently nipped at his neck. “I hope you’ll be turned on later…when we go home.” She whispered several things she wanted to do to him, and was pleased at the flush rising out of his shirt collar.
It suddenly occurred to her that if they did it in the car, she’d have a head start on the evening. After all, it might not happen the first time. She hadn’t calculated the correct time. They might have to do it day and night for an entire month! Besides, she wasn’t sure she trusted those sperm. What if they got discouraged and swam the wrong way?
She slid her hand higher and pressed against him. “When was the last time you did it in a car, big boy?” she asked in her most sultry voice.