She was going to stay with his mom.
She was going to take it easy with the work thing.
And for the first time since he’d found out she was pregnant, Jeff breathed an almost easy breath.
ELEVEN
“If you don’t give me that file,” Darcy warned, leaning over her small desk toward the pilfering grandmother-in-the-making/woman-of-steel who happened to be Jeff’s mother, “I’m—I’m—I’m not going baby clothes shopping with you this weekend.”
Gail looked down at the manila folder she’d swiped from Darcy’s hold and then looked back. “You said fifteen more minutes. That was over an hour ago.”
She had. But after two weeks of taking it easy, Darcy’s energy was back up. She’d regained a few pounds. And she’d found a satisfaction and meaning in the work she was doing she’d never had before. So on days like today, when the hormones ran rampant and her mood was a bit off, the work was her best distraction. And she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, there was a benefit coming up to raise funds for a series of summer programs for at-risk youth. She wasn’t ready to call it a day. Which meant she’d have to play hardball with Gail. “That little boutique we drove by Sunday...with the Frog Prince–themed window... I know you know the one. I know you want to go.”
Gail got a sort of fevered look in her eyes. Baby clothes were this Superwoman’s Kryptonite, and while Darcy mostly didn’t like to exploit the weakness...she knew Gail would respect her for it in the end.
The file flopped back onto her desk.
“Fine. You win. But I was hoping to talk you into joining me for dinner with the girls tonight.”
The invitation wasn’t totally unexpected. Gail had offered to include her in her plans more than a handful of times over the past few weeks, but Darcy had yet to take her up on it. And when she made her excuse tonight, Gail didn’t push but left with her usual, friendly “next time, then.”
By the time Darcy found a good stopping place and turned off her desk lamp, the house was empty, the sky beyond the window glass already dark. Picking at a dinner her stomach wasn’t interested in, she finished her book on pregnancy and motherhood. She watched five minutes worth of drivel on TV before turning it off in an impatient huff and setting out to walk the halls of the house, again.
When she reached the second floor, she turned toward her rooms but stopped instead at the first door on the left. Jeff’s room. Normally she kept walking but tonight, she was at a loose end. As always, the door was open. And as always she experienced a tug of curiosity about the space within, and what it might tell her about the man who’d called it his.
Scanning the room, her eyes snared on the built-in shelves behind a desk. The rows of trophies and medals: baseball, tennis, swimming, football, track. The evidence of Jeff’s achievements. It made her smile to think what he must have been like as a kid.
Gail had told her he’d been into mischief almost as much as he’d been out of it, but never in a way that was hurtful or destructive. She’d called him a rule bender. A perpetual charmer.
Traits apparently carried over into adulthood.
And if ever there was a man who made a bit of trouble look like fun, it was Jeff.
Pushing back from the doorframe she returned to her room. But her ping-ponging thoughts wouldn’t still. Would she have a little boy or a girl? Was Jeff hoping for one over the other? What would labor feel like? Would Jeff be there? Would he stay cool? Hold her hand? Tell her not to be scared?