Trevor and he were in the truck, Richard ready to turn the key in the ignition, when Trev spoke. “I don’t think she’s going to get an abortion.”
His head snapped around. “What?”
“I told her I’d marry her if that’s what she wants.”
Richard heard the defiance and the misery, but that didn’t stop him from saying, “Are you crazy?”
“So the truth comes out,” his son said disagreeably. “You didn’t want to marry Mom.”
Richard didn’t swear much, but this would have been the moment if he hadn’t gritted his teeth hard. How in hell was he supposed to handle this?
Trevor turned away to look out the side window. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Richard said grimly. “And the answer is, no. I didn’t want to marry your mother. I wanted to go to college. I wanted to grow up. I wanted to do something else with my life, not go to work for my father. None of that means I didn’t love your mother.” He thought a white lie was justified under the circumstances. “Or that I didn’t want you once I realized you were a possibility.” He wrapped both hands around the steering wheel. “Can’t you understand that?”
Trev’s chin dropped to his chest. “Yeah.” His voice came out thick. His breath rushed in and out. “I’m scared that’s what she’ll want.”
“Son.” Eyes burning, Richard pulled his boy into a rough embrace. “I doubt that’ll happen. She’s fifteen. That’s not what her mother’ll want. But…” His own breathing shuddered. “I’m behind you, okay? Whatever you need.”
He’d have sworn he felt tears on his neck. They stayed that way a long time in the dark.
CHAPTER TEN
IN THE NEXT WEEK, Molly developed the unwelcome suspicion that Cait was enjoying the role thrust on her. She’d never in her life held such power over others. She was the martyr, suffering visibly; everyone else had to wait on her decision. And yes, she was probably genuinely scared and uncertain, but she was also petulant and, in a strange way, triumphant. Molly began to feel she didn’t know her at all.
Clearly, Cait was taking that decision down to the wire. Maybe she’d shared it with Trevor—but Molly doubted so, from the wary way he watched her on the occasions she saw them together.
The teenagers were talking, Molly knew that much. Secretly, which was disconcerting. A couple of times, she saw Trevor waiting for Cait after school. Once Molly arrived home to see him hurrying away from the house down the sidewalk, hands in his pockets and face averted. Cait seemed to be spending a great deal of time closed in her bedroom on the phone talking to someone.
Which was probably good, because she sure wasn’t talking to her mother.
Molly might have found those days unbearable if not for Richard. One of them called the other almost every night. She thought about the few times he’d touched her, however casually. Maybe it was just as well that phone conversations allowed no opportunity for good-night kisses. Assuming, of course, he wanted to kiss her, and she wasn’t positive he did.
They’d plunged into such intimacy so fast, she was unnerved. The sound of his voice on the phone, warm, slow and deep, made her quiver. She was embarrassingly eager when he suggested getting together. He was certainly the sexiest man she’d ever seen, with his lean, dark face lit by a flicker of a smile. The sight of his very male saunter made her knees weak. She could hardly remember being so affected by a man, and gee, that had turned out so well.
Every time her self-esteem hit a low ebb, she reminded herself he had wanted to ask her out. Maybe he felt as cautious as she did, but he was definitely interested. That gave her something to hang on to.
The weird part was that in the meantime he had become her best friend. Her confidant, her prop, her reminder that it was possible to laugh.
He talked, too. Less willingly than her, she thought, but what man was happy baring his deepest feelings or most regretted failures?
So, okay, they hadn’t gotten there yet. She hadn’t told him about her marriage; he hadn’t told her about his. Neither had talked about the price they’d paid for those early marriages, or the divorces that had followed. But during one of their phone conversations, he told her more about the war and some of the things he’d seen. Hearing his horror, she asked why he’d joined the National Guard, and he admitted it had been mostly money.
“There wasn’t some other way you could have moonlighted?” she asked.
It took him a while to answer. “Yeah, I could have found something. I suppose I wanted to get away, too. I liked the camaraderie you build with the other members of your unit. The sense that maybe you’re doing something worthwhile.”