There was some good fortune. After Ho
ward had paid off the mobster, no other angry former investors had threatened him, demanding repayment.
But there, their luck ended. Just when Letty was desperate for overtime pay, all the other waitstaff suddenly seemed to want it, too. But warmer summer weather meant fewer customers at the diner craving the fried eggs and chicken fried steak that were the diner’s specialties. Her work hours became less, not more.
Each morning when she left for work, her father pretended to look through job listings in the paper, looking shifty-eyed and pale. Pregnancy exhausted her. Each night when she got home from work, almost falling asleep where she stood, she cooked dinner for them both. She’d do the dishes and go to bed. Then the whole day would start again.
Every day, she anxiously counted the savings she kept in her old chipped cookie jar on the kitchen counter. And every day, she looked at the calendar and felt more afraid.
By late August, amid the sticky heat of New York City, Letty was growing frantic. She could no longer hide her baby bump, not even with her father’s oversize shirts. Everyone at the diner knew she was pregnant, including her friend and coworker Belle Langtry, who kept teasing her about it.
“Who’s the father?” Belle demanded. “Is it Prince Charming? I swear I saw you leave here once with a dark-haired man in a sports car.”
No. It wasn’t Prince Charming, Letty thought numbly. Her baby’s father was no prince, but a selfish, coldhearted beast who wanted to steal her child away.
Finally, as her yearlong lease on the apartment ended, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She gave two weeks’ notice at the diner. She still hadn’t saved enough money, but time had run out.
On the first of September, Letty splashed cold water on her face in the darkness before dawn, then looked at her drawn face in the mirror.
Today was the day.
They couldn’t rent a truck to move their belongings. No money for that. Instead, they’d just take what would fit in two suitcases on the bus.
They’d have to leave behind all the final memories from Fairholme. From her childhood. From her mother.
The thought made her throat ache.
But Letty was six months pregnant now. Her heart pounded as she put her hand protectively over her baby bump. She knew from the ultrasound at the doctor’s office that she was expecting a boy. How had time fled so quickly? In less than three months, by late November, she’d be cuddling her sweet baby in her arms.
Or else she’d be weeping as the baby’s coldhearted father took him away from her forever. She still remembered Darius’s cold, dark eyes, heard the flat echo of his voice.
If by some unfortunate chance you become pregnant, selling me our baby would be your only option.
She was suddenly terrified she’d waited too long to leave New York.
Going into the tiny kitchen, she tried to keep her voice cheerful as she said, “Dad, I’m going to pick up my last paycheck, then buy bus tickets.”
“I still don’t understand why Rochester,” he said with a scowl.
She sighed. “I told you. My friend Belle knows someone who knows someone who might be able to get me a job there. Everyone says it’s nice. I need you to start packing.”
“I have other plans today.” His voice was peevish.
“Dad, our lease is up in two days. I know it’s not fun, but whatever you don’t pack, I’m going to have to call the junk dealer to take.” Her throat ached. Maybe all their leftover stuff was junk, but it was all they had left. Of Fairholme. Of her mother. Her voice tightened. “Look, I know it won’t be easy.”
Sitting at the peeling Formica table where he was doing the crossword, Howard glared at her with irritation. “You just need to tell that man of yours you’re pregnant.”
They’d been having this argument for months. She gritted her teeth. “I can’t. I told you.”
“Poppycock. A man should be given the opportunity to take care of his own child. And you know, Letty,” he added gruffly, “I won’t always be here to look after you.”
Howard—look after her? When was the last time that had been true, instead of the other way around? She looked at her father, then sighed. “Why don’t you believe me?”
“I knew Darius as a boy.” Fiddling with his untouched coffee mug, he looked at her seriously. “If you’d just help him see past his anger, he’s got a good heart—”
“I’m not gambling on his good heart,” she said bitterly. “Not after the way he treated me.”
Her father looked thoughtful. “I could just call him...”