The Moment of Truth

“How far along do you have to be?” It had only been nine days.

“A few days. Some women just take longer than others to gestate.”

She knew her stuff. Deflated, he sat back. Face it, Redmond. There’s no easy-out this time.

“I’m sorry.” Dana’s voice sounded stronger than it had when she answered the phone.

“This isn’t your fault,” he said. “At least, no more than it’s mine. We did this together, Dana.”

Another truism that he knew he had to live with. That he was determined to live with.

“We need to talk.”

She’d been way ahead of him on that one. And had driven over to his place for that express purpose. After she’d told him, he hadn’t said a word. But then, like she’d said, she’d had a head start on him.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty tired.” Dana’s answer came on a sigh. “Can we just let this go for tonight and look at it again in the morning?”

“Of course.” Was his relief as palpable to her as it was to him?

“Okay, well, good night.”

“Night.”

Josh hung up, grateful for the reprieve.

* * *

DANA SAT STRAIGHT up in bed. Her text indicator had just beeped. Josh? Was he lying in the dark awake, too? Needing her as badly as she needed him?

Feeling as though the world was settling a bit, she grabbed her phone.

Marissa’s sick. Drank too much. If I take her to the dorm she’ll be in trouble. Can I bring her there?

Lori. Not Josh.

She glanced at the information bar at the bottom of her smartphone. It was midnight. The girls were just making curfew.

Of course.

Climbing out of bed and throwing on sweats, she smiled, grateful for the distraction. It was much better taking care of someone else than worrying about herself.

* * *

HE SLEPT THROUGH the night and woke up early, ready to face the day. Throwing off the covers, Josh was halfway to the bathroom before reality smacked him.

He was going to be a father.

He was overcome by a wave of panic so great it stopped him in his tracks. What he knew about babies, or children in general, would take up less than a paragraph.

Continuing on to the bathroom, he peed. Put L.G. out to pee.

He couldn’t think of one time when he’d ever spent a significant amount of time with a child.

So he made a cup of coffee, grabbed one of the mugs Sam had left and filled it, carrying it back with him to the shower.

The couples he knew who had kids only included Josh in their plans when a babysitter was involved. No one associated him as a guy they’d want to bring their kids around.

Or a guy who’d want kids around.

And they’d been right.

* * *

LORI AND MARISSA were still asleep when Dana got out of her shower. She jotted down a short note inviting them to stay as long as they liked, to help themselves to food and to lock up when they left, and left the duplex with Lindy Lu under her arm Sunday morning. She wanted to call Lillie, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She decided, instead, to take a drive to the mountains not far out of town. But after an hour of feeling sorry for herself, she drove back to Shelter Valley determined to find a way to be happy about the prospect of being a single mom.

Lindy Lu bore the ordeal with unusual equanimity, mixed in with some chewing on Dana’s fingers with very sharp puppy teeth. Dana rewarded her with a stop at the big-box store for a bag of puppy-size chew toys. And left her in her kennel in the car as she made her next stop.

A mission for Love To Go Around.

She’d met Skyline, the fifteen-pound short-haired mix rescue pup, twice before and her foster family was sorry to see her go. They’d have kept her but they were only in Shelter Valley from October until April each year and couldn’t take her with them.

And Dana knew it was important to get the dog in a permanent home. Skyline had had enough turmoil in her young life.

Thanks to Josh, Dana had a potential family for her.

As soon as Amy answered the door, Dana knew Skyline had found her forever home.

“Oh, look at you!” the woman said, making eye contact, not with Dana, but with the dog in Dana’s arms. “Can I hold her?”

“Of course.” Dana turned the one-year-old female over to her new owner. “Her name’s Skyline. She’s been spayed,” she said. “She doesn’t tolerate a leash. Or a collar, either, but I suspect that if you work with her with nonchoke collars, you’ll be able to overcome that. She’s had all of her shots and just passed her one-year checkup with flying colors. She knows her name so I don’t recommend changing it at this point, but that’s up to you.”

“So you’re Dana!” She’d been so focused on how the dog responded to the woman, she hadn’t even noticed the wiry man who’d come up behind Amy.