He owed Leonora an apology, he supposed. He might even be able to have a civilized conversation with her at some point in the future. But how could he ever revive the instinctual love a child has for his mother? Hadn't that died, all those years ago? He and his mother were strangers to each other.
One thing he would do. He'd visit Charles very soon, and have it out with him. That would give him considerable satisfaction. As for Jenessa, once Leonora had contacted her, he'd phone and find out how she felt about this revelation.
Another thing he needed to do was visit Julie's parents. With or without her consent. Although he still didn't know if he was in love with Julie, less and less could he contemplate being without her. Whatever that meant.
The last three weeks had felt like three years.
The miles rolled by, the shadows lengthening across the road as it wound along the coastline. He started watching for the signpost that indicated Bryce's driveway. Yesterday, when he'd been almost sure he'd act on the invitation, he'd phoned the couple who kept an eye on the cottage for Bryce; by now, they'd have cleaned the place for him and stocked it with groceries. He was glad he'd done that. He didn't want to have to leave the cottage for something as mundane as groceries. He wanted to spend every minute of its peaceful seclusion with Julie.
When he turned off the highway a few minutes later, Julie woke up. "Are we there?" she mumbled.
"Just about."
He pulled up beside the cottage, letting the view speak for itself: a private beach, the curl of waves on the sand, a scattering of islands skirted with foam and then the open ocean. Nearer to hand, he and Julie were enclosed by tall pines and stands of young maple. A couple of times since Bryce had bought the property seven years ago, Travis had come here on vacation. It was, he supposed, as near to Manatuck as he could get.
Julie said softly, "How beautiful … "
"You are, yes," he said.
She flushed, ducking her head. Then she looked straight at him. "I don't want separate rooms. Do you?"
His heart leaped in his chest. "Nope."
"Well," she said with a grin, "that was easy. And even though I lust after you, Travis, I'm also very hungry. Is there anything to eat in this utterly marvelous place?"
"Besides you, there's a refrigerator full of groceries."
"Refrigerator first," she said. "Me afterward."
He captured her hands in his, smiling into her brilliant green eyes. "Promise?"
"You bet."
"If you're afraid of ending up like your mother," he said dryly, "I don't think you have a worry in the world."
"I don't want to talk about mothers. Yours or mine."
"What, no fights?"
"One of the things I like about you-apart from your body-is that you catch on fast."
"You know what?" Travis said huskily. "Right now I wouldn't change places with anyone in the world."
"Neither would I," she said, almost inaudibly.
Julie wouldn't say what she didn't mean. Feeling lightheaded with happiness, Travis said, "Let's grab our stuff, raid the refrigerator and light the barbecue. Or else, dearest Julie, you're going to find yourself in the bedroom."
"Steak-or even a hamburger-takes precedence," she said primly, and scrambled out of the vehicle.
Travis got out, too. "Come here," he said.
She walked around the hood of his car, flung her arms around him and burrowed her cheek into his chest. "Okay. Now what?"
"Now this," said Travis, and kissed her with all the passion and skill he was capable of. When he finally raised his head, his heart was thumping as though he'd run the Boston Marathon. He said unevenly, "I won't need a match to light the barbecue."
"I don't care if it's hot dogs," she whispered.
"One of these days I'll have to thank Brent for inviting you to Manatuck."
Julie laughed. "I'm sure he'll be impressed."
"You and I wouldn't have met, otherwise."
"I'm glad we did," Julie said with sudden intensity.
"So am I," said Travis, and kissed her again.
Somehow this interchange set the tone for the next two days. He and Julie spent a good deal of that time in bed, although they also made love up against the pantry door and, rather uncomfortably, underneath a pine tree. They swam, cavorting in the chill waves. They washed dishes together, discussing the politics of dictatorship and the perils of guerilla warfare. They barbecued shrimp, smothered pancakes in fresh strawberries and cream, and hiked in the woods. Travis sang in the shower; Julie taught him a Tanzanian tribal dance. They laughed a lot.
When they were loading their bags into the car on Sunday evening, Travis put a hand on Julie's arm and said forcibly, "This weekend wasn't just about sex, Julie."
She glanced over at him. "No," she said uncertainly, "it wasn't."
"When will I see you again?"
"Thursday?"
"Not until then?"
"Monday I'm taking my mother to a movie that she wants to see and my father thinks isn't worth the price of admission. On Tuesday I'm meeting my friend Kathy after work-remember her, Andrea's mother? And every Wednesday I work late."
He quelled a flicker of unease. "I'll meet you at the clinic on Thursday around five-thirty?"
"That'd be fine." She took one last look around, adding with a touch of desperation, "I hate to leave here, Travis. I'm not ready for the real world."
"This is the real world. You and I together, there's nothing more real than that. Anyway, we can come back. Bryce won't be needing the cottage for a while."
She made an indeterminate sound and climbed into the car. Travis accelerated up the driveway. He'd purposely not suggested she stay at his place tonight. He'd rushed her last time; he wasn't planning on repeating that mistake. But he wanted her to stay. He wanted her to move in with him, he thought with a tiny lurch of surprise; even though he'd never lived with a woman in his life. More than that, he wanted some kind of commitment from her.
He was only here another three weeks, while her contract expired in the middle of September. Then what? She'd mentioned the possibility of going to a clinic in Thailand, while it looked more and more likely that he'd be heading off to Mexico.
Was that what she meant by the real world?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
By ten o'clock the next morning, Julie had lost her breakfast twice over. Leaning on the basin in the washroom nearest to her office, she stared at her paper-white face in the mirror. The flu. It had to be the flu. It couldn't be morning sickness.
She splashed cold water on her face and went back to work. Apart from the tiredness that had been dogging her for a couple of weeks, she felt fine the rest of the day. The movie was about the mishaps of a family wedding and made both her and her mother laugh, a brief intimacy that felt very precious to Julie. That night she slept as soundly as a baby, cautiously ate a bowl of cereal the next morning and didn't even make it to the apartment door before she had to rush to the bathroom. Afterward, not giving herself time to think, she picked up the phone and was lucky enough to get an appointment with her doctor during her lunch hour the following day.
When she saw him, he only confirmed what Julie already, in her heart, knew to be true. She was pregnant.
She walked out of his office like a woman in a daze. If she had to be pregnant, why couldn't the father have been some shadowy, insubstantial character who'd fade into the wallpaper now that she'd conceived? But Travis wasn't like that. Travis was flesh and blood, all too real, with an incisive intelligence and a temper to go with it. It was difficult to imagine him fading into anything.
What was she going to do? She had a date with him tomorrow night. She had less than thirty hours to come up with an answer.
The baby wasn't the issue. It was quite clear to her, and had been ever since the doctor had pronounced the word pregnant, that she would have the baby and rearrange her life to take care of it. If she had to trade off her wandering work habits with a real, live baby, the baby won hands down. It was interesting, Julie thought slowly, what a visit to a doctor's office could teach you about yourself.
The problem wasn't the baby. The problem was Travis.
She had to tell him. Didn't she?
Eventually, she thought. With a bit of luck, she wouldn't start to show until late September, by which time he'd be in Mexico. That gave her a few weeks' grace. She'd have to be utterly discreet about the morning sickness; she knew from experience how gossip flourished in clinics and hospitals, whether they were in Maine or Calcutta.