She watched her friend work on her toes and thought for a moment about what she wanted to say next. “I want more in life, Sally. I don’t want to just be taken care of by some guy, and I can’t help wondering if Mark only sees me as someone to take care of.”
“You don’t want to be taken care of by a hunk of a...”
“Don’t start that again. You know what I mean.”
“I know.” Sally waved her hand over Jennifer’s nails. “You want to make it on your own. But I think you might be comparing apples to oranges. Mark isn’t like Mitch. Mitch was a lying, no-good son of a—”
“You’re right. He was.”
Sally stopped painting for a moment and looked her in the eyes. “Hon, the only thing Mitch was good for was lowering the IQ of anyone standing in the same room as him for any length of time. You know he wasn’t a good man.”
“But what if I’m taking advantage of Mark? I really didn’t want to give up the baby. He comes along in his shining white sedan and offers to be my Prince Charming. What if I’m using him?”
“Are you?”
“I don’t want to.”
“Then don’t.” She added one more flourish and leaned back. “Done. Beautiful.” Sally held up Jennifer’s swollen feet so she could see.
“Thank you, Sally.”
The day moved as quickly as paint drying after Sally left, but when Mark came in bearing Chinese food, she forgave the boring quiet. Sitting side by side on the bed, they raced through the food until Jennifer felt bloated and unable to eat any more.
His face looked tired. More so than usual, his haggard appearance concerned her. “What is it?” In her mind she wondered if he wasn’t spread too thin, going back and forth between her and the hospital. A pang of regret lodged in her stomach as she waited for his answer.
“What do you mean?”
“You look tired. No, it’s more than that. Did something happen today?”
His gaze met hers. “Tell me about your family.”
Jennifer finished chewing her bite of eggroll before answering. “I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Tell me about your mom, dad. Any aunts or uncles?” He sat up straighter on the bed, but wouldn’t look her in the eye. He twirled his fork around his noodles. “More importantly, why aren’t they here now?”
Jennifer swallowed but didn’t answer right away.
“Why aren’t they with you? Have you told them about the baby? You’re due any day now, and you’ve never even mentioned any of them to me.”
“Why the questions? Why are you bringing this up now?”
He leaned back against her headboard and crossed one leg over the other. “This teenager came into the hospital today. She left school in pain but didn’t tell anyone where she’d gone. It turned out to be an ectopic pregnancy. She hadn’t told her mom or dad she was pregnant and went through it all alone. We couldn’t get her parents there before we had to take her to surgery.”
His eyes closed. Lines from pain and lack of sleep criss-crossed his face, and dark purple smudged under his eyes.
He said, “I’m just wondering why you were going through this all alone. Why isn’t your dad here to give me a hard time? You deserve to have someone standing up for you. Was it because you were giving the baby up for adoption?”
She waited a moment, not sure of how to answer.
“I just feel like I don’t even know who you are.” The need in his voice made his request all the more compelling. “And I want to. Not because it would change anything. I just want to know you. I hate feeling like you need to keep your life a secret from me. I—”
She took a long breath and let it out. “I don’t have a family.” She’d stopped eating and now couldn’t stop staring at her hands. The only thing she knew for sure was that she didn’t want to look at him, couldn’t stand the thought of seeing that look of pity in his eyes. Sally was the only person Jennifer had ever told about her past. To tell Mark now would be to invite pity in, to make him feel he should rescue her even more.
God, why did he have to start asking questions?
Leaning forward, Mark put his hand on Jennifer’s. “Everyone has a family. They’re not always good, but everyone has one. What do you mean, you don’t have a family?”
Jennifer shook her head slowly. “My mom worked in a diner when I was growing up.”
Mark’s hand caressed over hers. His thumb drew circles over her palm.
“I don’t remember seeing her much. She always worked hard, taking doubles whenever she could get them. My dad wasn’t there...he died when I was little.”