What had she been thinking?
How could she hang three stockings on the mantel? Or hold the Life-Savers-and-white-yarn ornament Mia had made in kindergarten? How?
She turned her back on all of it and headed for the door. By the time she got back into the house, her hands were shaking and she was cold.
She never should have told Miles she’d decorate, but the sadness in Zach’s eyes had filled her with guilt. She’d thought that decorating for Christmas might cheer him up. He’d been so depressed all week. He claimed that school was going well, that he had great grades—and even swore that med school was still his future, but he was so quiet that sometimes she forgot he was even home. He never answered his cell phone, and after a while it had stopped ringing.
She moved into the living room. Sunlight shone through the tall windows, gilding the wooden floors. Zach and Miles sat next to each other on the big, overstuffed sofa, both wielding controllers, while two ninjas kickboxed each other on the big flat-screen TV.
“You find the ornaments?” Miles said, without looking up.
“No. ”
Miles sighed; lately he was always sighing. So was she, for that matter.
Their whole relationship seemed to be made of air, filled with nothing. She wanted to make him happy, but she couldn’t find any way to say what he needed to hear.
The doorbell rang, and she was relieved. She hated guests, but anything was better than this retread conversation about who she used to be. “Are we expecting anyone?”
“Hardly. People don’t drop by anymore,” Miles said.
“Maybe it’s Drew or Greg,” Jude said, steeling herself to see one of Zach’s friends.
She went to the door and opened it.
A stranger stood there, holding a manila envelope.
No. Not a stranger, but she couldn’t place his face. “Hello?”
“I’m Scot Jacobs. Alexa—Lexi—Baill’s defense attorney. ”
“Come in, Mr. Jacobs,” Miles said, appearing beside Jude.
She felt herself being pushed aside. She heard the door shut. Feeling light-headed, she followed the men into the living room.
“I came to speak to Zachary,” the lawyer said, and, at his name, Zach put down the controller and stood. “I have these papers from Lexi. She asked me to deliver them to you personally. She thought you would be home this weekend. ” He didn’t look at Jude—just Zach—and offered the envelope. “She’s pregnant,” he said quietly.
* * *
How long did she stand there, staring? She could feel the blood moving in her veins, pounding on the walls of her heart. A high-pitched scream filled her head.
No. She was making that sound. Was that really her? The anger she’d spent months suppressing came roaring back. Zach was talking, saying something, but Jude didn’t hear the words; she didn’t care anyway.
“Get out of this house,” she said suddenly. Yelled.
“I’m sorry…” Scot said.
“Sorry? Sorry? Your client kills my daughter, but that’s not enough for her, is it? She’s not done with us. Now she has to ruin my son’s life, too. How do we even know Zach is the father? How far along is she?”
“Mom!” Zach said sharply.
Miles looked shaken and pale, but the anger Jude felt was nowhere to be seen in his eyes. That pissed her off even more. She was always alone in her feelings lately, always wrong.
“She’s five and a half months pregnant,” Scot answered.
“How convenient. What is in the envelope? What does she want from Zach?”
“These are adoption papers, Mrs. Farraday, and I can tell you that Lexi did not come to this decision easily. If … Zach doesn’t want the baby, she’s prepared to undergo the adoption process alone. She’ll find a good family. She doesn’t want her baby to be in foster care. ”