Pipe Dreams(52)

Everyone laughed. Except for Elsa. She raised a cool gaze to Lauren's. "What do you think of the wine?" she challenged.

Oh boy. Lauren, stunned by the question, stared across the table at Elsa, who regarded her with a laser gaze.

The girl knew.

Still tongue-tied, Lauren went over the last hour in her mind. How had  she given herself away? Not everybody accepted a beer when offered one.  And she hadn't said a word. She'd brought Elsa those maxi pads . . .

Oh, crap. Her prenatal vitamins were in that bag somewhere. It was  entirely possible that Elsa had glimpsed them. There was a big freaking  pregnant belly on the label, with a heart drawn on it.

And the untouched glass of wine Hans had poured her sat there on the table like a beacon. She felt eyes on her.

"Maybe Lauren isn't in the mood to drink tonight," Mike said lightly.

"Is that how you want to play it?" Elsa asked. She set down her fork. "When did you plan to tell me?"

"Uh-oh," Mike muttered under his breath.

"When I was sure," Lauren sputtered. "It isn't personal."

"Just do me one favor?" Elsa stabbed a cherry tomato in her pasta salad  as if trying to spear it in the heart. "If the baby was an accident,  don't ever let it know, okay? Don't let it hear its grandparents tell  their neighbors that its daddy got its mother knocked up at eighteen.  Don't let the wives in the clubhouse whisper about how young they had  you. And don't end up apologizing to your kid for cheating on each  other, okay? Because the baby will not want to hear that she was the  source of all your woe."

Elsa jammed the tomato in her mouth and stood up from the table. Then  she made her exit with a regal posture which she maintained all the way  up the stairs.

There was stunned silence at the table then. Nobody even chewed.

Mike was the first to shake it off. He looked up at the ceiling. "Thanks a crap ton, Shelly. Nice timing!"                       
       
           



       

"What?" Lauren said, trying to make sense of it.

He shook his head. "I'll go talk to her. No-I'll finish my steak. Then  I'll go talk to her. Her day has been full of revelations. She just  needs a break." He took Lauren's hand under the table, then addressed  Hans. "So, we're having a baby or two."

"Probably," Lauren corrected. "It's early."

"Two?" Hans asked.

She jerked her head toward Mike. "That's his funny little joke. I'll settle for one healthy one."

"Congratulations," the German man said, his smile bashful.

"Thank you. You're the first person to say that, because I haven't told a soul."

"And yet . . ." Mike pointed at the staircase.

"That was probably my error," Lauren admitted. "I had her fetch something out of my bag, and I think she saw my vitamins."

"Good going, slick," Mike said, squeezing her hand. "And after you swore me to secrecy."

"I know! I'm sorry."

He just smiled. "It had to come out at some point." He let go of her  hand to cut another bite of his steak. Then he picked up her glass of  wine and took a sip. "You won't be needing this."

"Sadly, no. Are you going to have a chat with Elsa? I don't mind doing it."

He smiled. "I got it. I'm giving her a few minutes, first. And I'm going  to eat my steak. Then I'm going to tell my little girl how much I love  her."

"You're very calm about this."

Chewing, he glanced up the staircase. "Not always. But no goalie has ever had a hundred percent save rate."

"What?"

"It's just something I tell myself sometimes." He reached over and gave her knee a squeeze.

Goalies, Lauren smiled to herself. So calm in the hailstorm of life. She  tried to imagine what life would be like a year from now. No-two years.  There'd be a high chair pulled up to the table. Even if their toddler  was throwing peas on the floor and Elsa was having a teenage meltdown,  Mike would be smiling at her over the rim of his wineglass, weathering  the storm. She felt a rush of love for this man and his easy smile.

"The pasta salad is excellent," Mike said to Hans.

"Danke."

Lauren stabbed an olive with her fork and felt tears in her eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. But today they were tears of joy.

She'd take it.





THIRTY



On his way up to Elsa's room fifteen minutes later, he paused to grab a  photo album from the bookshelf underneath the TV. Tucking it under his  arm, he took the stairs two at a time and then tapped on Elsa's door.

"Come in," she grumbled from the bed.

He sat down beside her. Could be worse, he noticed. She wasn't crying,  but rather watching a YouTube video of bears invading someone's backyard  pool. And when she looked up at him, her expression was sheepish. "I  shouldn't have gone on that rant," she said. "But I'm really having a  day, you know?"

"I do know." He leaned back against her headboard and opened the photo album on his lap.

"You guys never said it out loud, but everyone always whispered about  Mom. That she was the pregnant girl at her high school graduation."

"She was," Mike admitted. "I'm sure that wasn't easy on her. Look." He'd  opened the album to his favorite baby picture of Elsa. She was maybe  six months old, and wearing a tiny hockey jersey. He was skating across a  practice rink with her tucked under his arm. They were both smiling  widely. "You were so stinkin' cute. I loved it when you and Mom came to  the rink so I could show you off."

He flipped the pages slowly. Elsa wearing a paper birthday hat, with  icing all over her face. Elsa on her mother's lap, reading a bedtime  story. The three of them smiling up at the camera from a picnic blanket,  Elsa seated on Mike's thigh, using his body like a lounge chair.

Preschool-aged Elsa, dressed up like an Ewok for Halloween, Mike as Hans Solo and Shelly as Princess Leia.

"Holy crap we look ridiculous," Elsa said, but she was smiling.

He put an arm around her. "I love being your dad. Always have. That's not an accident."

She laid her cheek against his shoulder and said nothing.

He turned another page. Elsa's first day of kindergarten, holding Mike's  hand on the way into school on Long Island. Elsa wearing tap shoes and a  purple tutu for a dance recital. Elsa holding her very first violin and  a stubby looking bow.

Shelly hugging Elsa, her eyes closed, a look of pure joy on her face.                       
       
           



       

Beside him, Elsa sniffled.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the baby yet," he whispered. "We only found out six days ago."

Elsa picked her head up. "Really?"

"Really. And Lauren is worried she'll have a miscarriage. That happens a  lot, I guess. But if Lauren lost this baby, we'd try again. It wasn't  an accident, just like you and I aren't an accident."

Elsa made a noise of disbelief, the sort that only a teenager can pull off.

"Your mom and I didn't get our timing right," he said softly. "It didn't  help things between us. But there has never been a single day when I  didn't want to be your dad. And if this baby makes its way into the  world next winter, the same will be true for him."

"Or her," Elsa whispered.

"Or her. Or them."

"Them?"

"It could be twins. You never know."

"I like babies," Elsa said, sounding teary.

"So do I." He tucked her closer to his chest. "And grumpy teenagers.  Hans put a cover over your plate so your pasta salad won't get dried  out."

"That was nice of him."

"Yes, it was."

"If you marry Lauren, Hans will move out, won't he?"

"Probably," Mike admitted. "I don't have a road map, Els. Lauren and I have a lot of things to figure out."

"When are you getting married?" Elsa demanded. "You have to. For the baby."

He laughed. "What other advice do you have for me? Shall I take notes?"

She elbowed him, and he laughed again. "Are we still going to France at the end of June?"

"Absolutely," he said. Whatever changes were coming, there was no need  to call off the vacation he and Elsa had been planning for a year.

"Is Lauren coming with us?"

He had to think about that. "She has to go on a business trip to China  with Nate. By the way-please don't tell a soul that Lauren is pregnant,  okay? It's too early to tell people. And her boss doesn't know. She'll  choose the right time to tell him."

"China? Wow. Is Lauren going to keep working for Nate after the baby is born?"

"Elsa," he laughed. "I don't . . ."

". . . Know," she finished. "Got it. There's a lot you don't know, though. Just saying."

He grinned up at her ceiling. "That's always been true. Thank you for pointing it out, honey. I love that."