In for three, hold for three, out for three, hold for three.
Ollie's tail wagged.
What was I going to do? I kept breathing as best I could, Ollie's cold little nose burrowed in the crook of my elbow, grounding me. I should get a dog, probably. Or just steal Ollie.
I'd have to move, for one. I couldn't stay here, in Nathan's house, percolating another man's baby. So yeah. I'd clean out his closet, finally. Get at least something in motion. Then, if I didn't lose the baby-already, even though it was about as big as a pen dot, I was thinking of it as a baby-I'd...I'd go. I'd tell the Coburns. There was no point in saying anything until after the twelve-week mark. Why break their hearts sooner than I had to?
I closed my eyes and wished so, so much that I'd never asked for that second glass of wine.
"I'm sorry, Nathan," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."
* * *
Of course, it was Ainsley who looked on the bright side. Ainsley, and Daniel. They double-teamed me the next night, Ainsley making grilled fish and spinach and rice pilaf for dinner, Daniel refilling my water glass so often I had to pee every fifteen minutes.
"She always wanted to be a mommy," Ainsley told Daniel, who was helping himself to thirds of dinner. "And you know, call me a little ray of sunshine, but I kind of think Nathan had a hand in this."
I flinched. "No, no. Don't go there. Please."
"Seriously, Daniel," Ainsley said. "He died on her. He totally screwed up her life and didn't even get her pregnant. Um, may he rest in peace and all that. But is it too much to believe that he felt bad about all this and maybe used his influence to make sure you knocked her up? I don't think that's such a stretch."
"What church do you go to?" Daniel asked. "Because I'm Catholic, and from where I sit, I'm going to hell, impregnating the poor widow here."
"I'm still in the room," I reminded them. "Can you not talk about me like this?"
"Fine, fine," Ainsley said. "But it's a baby, Kate! I'm pretty excited."
"Me, too," Daniel said, grinning.
I rubbed my eyes.
"Aren't you? Even a little?" he asked, putting his hand over mine.
"It hasn't really sunk in yet," I said. "I'm a little preoccupied with the shit storm part of this." I took my hand back. "So here's what I am thinking. I'll tell the Coburns I can't live here anymore. Because I can't. It was hard enough before."
"You can move in with me," he said.
"Or me," Ainsley said. "I was thinking of getting a two-family house with the money my mom left me. You can live downstairs, I'll live upstairs, I can watch the baby when you have to work."
"Or I can. Because I'm the father," Daniel said.
"Yeah, but you have a lot of girlfriends," Ainsley said. "Bad moral influence. So I win. I get the baby."
"First of all, the baby is half mine. And second, I haven't slept with anyone since your sister."
"Okay. I need a nap," I said. They both stood up, ready to tuck me in. "Stay here! I need some breathing space."
I went upstairs into my bedroom. Sat on the edge of the bed.
There was Nathan's closet. I hadn't been in there since he died.
I guess it was now or never.
It would be awfully nice-and very convenient-to buy into what Ainsley had said. That Nathan had magically pulled some strings and brought about this conception. But until my husband died, I'd had only a vague sense of the afterlife. It didn't seem fair to suddenly chalk this all up to divine intervention, to a husband who was beaming down at me, giving me a wholehearted blessing.
I went into the closet and closed the door.
The closet held a little bit of Nathan's smell, not as powerful as the milk shake night, but there just the same. Still, it was enough to make me sink to the floor. All Nathan's shirts. All his clothes. His shoes. His beautiful cashmere sweaters.
Tears burned behind my eyes. I couldn't cry here. Not now. It wouldn't be right. But I missed him. I missed hearing his voice. I missed his whistling as he shaved. I missed what we never got a glimpse of-familiarity. The truth was, I was more comfortable around Daniel than I'd ever been around Nathan.
If I had to pick a baby daddy, Daniel was probably a good choice. I wondered if it was true; that he'd left behind the False Alarms.
And if he had, what that meant.
I was pregnant. Right now, that little cluster of cells was growing like crazy. According to the best information I could find on the internet, that little cell clump had a 66:1 chance of being a healthy, normal baby.
I'd take those odds.
And suddenly, the guilt and shock were swept away as I sat in the dark, and a wave of love rolled over me like nothing I'd ever felt.
I was going to be someone's mother. And no matter what, no matter if I miscarried or the baby had problems, I was going to love her with all my heart, without reservation, and I was not going to pollute my love for this little speck with anything negative. I could judge myself and deal with my actions.
But my baby-my baby!-would feel only love.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Ainsley
So I was going to be an auntie again. I thought it was pretty great.
Sure, the timing sucked. But Kate had been so solitary for so long. For years and years. Then Nathan had come into the picture and made her into something else-a wife, half of a couple, something she'd never been before. His death was all the more cruel because of it; she'd been happy before she knew him, then reduced to a ghost.
But now she had a new purpose in life.
The three of us-Kate, Daniel and I-were going to keep this a secret until she passed the first trimester and felt safer about the baby's odds. But she'd already set some things in motion.
Last week, a few days after she found out, she'd talked to Brooke and told her she wanted Miles and Atticus to own Nathan's house someday, and would set up a trust to cover taxes and upkeep until they were old enough. "It's his most beautiful work," she said, "and the boys should have it." Brooke had cried and cried, the poor thing, hugging Kate and thanking her.
Kate was thinking she'd move back to Brooklyn. Let's face it; she'd never really loved Cambry-on-Hudson, and she still did have that great old apartment. There was a reason she'd never sold it.
And she'd be close to Daniel. "He's the father, after all," she said. "He deserves as much time with the baby as he wants."
"He really likes you," I said. "Do you like him?"
"Sure," she said.
"Do you love him?"
She gave me an amused glance. "Not yet."
"Give him a chance, okay? He's gonna be a great dad."
She shook her head, smiling, no doubt thinking her dopey little sister was a hopeless romantic. She was right.
My own love life was boffo, thank you very much. Not working for Jonathan had made him much more attractive. The feeling was probably mutual. We talked almost every night, and I saw him a few times a week.
Also, I was crazy in love with him.
But I'd done that total immersion relationship. And so had Jonathan, for that matter. I wanted to layer my life a little better than I had eleven years ago. I wanted to get my nursing degree. In a few weeks, I'd finish a class and become a certified nursing assistant. The Village of the Damned was hiring, and I could work there while I kept plugging away at a registered nursing degree.
In the meantime, I worked at Blessed Bean, serving up coffee to Cambry-on-Hudson's stay-at-home mommies and teenagers. My boss, Rig (short for nothing), was twenty, tattooed and pierced with those hideous spacer earrings. He was also quite a sweetheart and viewed me as the authority on all things romantic. And hey, I was Dr. Lovely's daughter, after all.
Speaking of, Candy had expressed the expected dismay at my change of career when I visited her at her beautiful new condo. "Nursing? Oh, honey. All you'll do is change old people's diapers."
"Well, just think. I can change yours when you decide to let loose."
"You'll have to change your father's sooner than mine. That man can barely dress himself as it is. We had dinner the other night, and he forgot his wallet, for the love of God."
"Are you guys staying friends?" I asked.
"Of course," she said in the voice that meant that's a good one. I felt for her, though. Somehow, I'd never known how much it had hurt her, being on the wrong side of unrequited love.
"I have something for you," she said. "I found it when I was packing."
She got up from the table and came back with a shoe box.
Inside were a couple dozen photos.
My mother, so young, younger than I was now, and so beautiful. Kate, holding me, smiling a gap-toothed grin. Sean, looking up from a book, his glasses smeared, a plate of cookies next to him.
My mother and father and me at about two. I'd never seen a picture of the three of us together.
"These were in the attic," Candy said sharply.