The Moment of Truth

“You mean, I’ll not only be out of my lease, but making money on it, as well?”

Make them feel like the choice is theirs.

“I did it again, didn’t I?” he said, the world slowing strangely. With the phone to his ear, he stepped outside to the patio, glancing down as L.G. ran up to him, jumping up on his pant leg.

“I should have called you before I finalized anything.”

“Actually, Josh, I’m grateful.”

Not the reaction he’d expected. He shook his head as L.G. cocked his puppy ears up at him. The woman was going to be the death of him.

“Anytime you overstep rights I care about, I’ll let you know,” she continued when he was beyond trying to figure her out. “You have my word on that.”

“Okay.”

“In this case, I asked around at school and everyone I know of is set, at least until semester break. There were a couple of people interested at the break, though. I was afraid I wasn’t going to be able to move before next month’s bills are due.”

“We’re closing on the house within the week,” he said. A phone call to Boston for instant approval on a line of credit and an overnighted check were all it took for him to be able to buy the home and close the deal.

He was putting the house in her name so if anything ever happened to him, the house was hers, free and clear.

A detail he’d ironed out that morning and had not yet shared with her.

“Wait a minute!” Her tone had grown shorter. “I just realized you said I’d be changing addresses within a week.”

“The kid who’s renting your place wants to move in over the Thanksgiving holiday,” Josh explained. “His parents are flying in to see his new home and help him get settled. That way he’ll be ready when classes start up again the following Monday.”

“Josh! I can’t possibly pack and move this week. I have classes. And twenty people coming to my house for Thanksgiving...”

Small details, all of them. Little wrinkles, more like it.

Thinking quickly, he said, “I’ll hire packers and movers. And the personal stuff you want to pack yourself, we’ll do together, tonight and tomorrow night if you’re free. That way we can get you moved in by Sunday and be ready for dinner next Thursday. Just think how much nicer it will be for everyone to gather around my bigger dining room table in that bigger dining room and leave the kitchen and your smaller table for serving the food.”

“You want me to move by Sunday.”

He did a quick calculation and told her how much money they’d save—even after hiring a couple of college kids and renting a truck.

And hung up with her agreement and a smile on his face.

* * *

AFTER SPENDING THE ENTIRE hour of her one o’clock class forcing herself to concentrate on the words the professor was saying, Dana not only had a headache, she was a bit grouchy, too. She just didn’t care all that much that she was interrupting Josh’s work when she dialed his cell on the way to his place to let Little Guy out.

Truth be known, she was angry with him. For not loving her.

Or asking her to marry him.

“Hi, what’s up?” he answered on the first ring.

“We never decided when and how we were going to tell people about the baby.”

“What do you want to do?”

She’d been thinking about that. A lot. Pretty well the entire time she and Lillie had been sitting next to each other in the pet-therapy van to and from Phoenix the previous afternoon.

She’d needed to confide in her new friend in the worst way. Lillie had known something was up. The concerned look in her eye as she’d asked three times if Dana was okay was proof of that.

All three times Dana had opened her mouth to tell Lillie about the baby and the move, and then had stopped. Regardless of what her relationship was with Josh, or how much hurt he’d caused her, he was her baby’s father and should have a say in who knew what and when.

“I’d like to tell everyone the same thing,” she said now. “I don’t want different stories going different places.”

“I agree completely.”

“That means your parents as well as mine.”

He didn’t say anything, which bothered her—probably more so because she was upset with him. But, dammit, even if they weren’t going to be married, she had a right to know where he’d come from. “Your parents are going to be grandparents to my baby, Josh. They should know that. I have a right to let them know. And the baby, most particularly, has a right.”

If it wasn’t about love, then it was about rights. At least for now.

“It’s complicated.”