It's Never too Late

Traffic disappeared. The night disappeared. His dash lights were all that were left.

“Did you hear me?”

“Yeah, I heard you.” He could barely keep the phone to his ear. He just wasn’t processing.

“I want to have this baby.”

Of course. That was a given. Ella didn’t need and wouldn’t want an abortion. She wanted to be a mother. Wanted a family.

“A couple of months ago you asked me to marry you. Does that still stand?”

Ella...having a baby.

“I can’t leave Shelter Valley.” The air in the truck was suffocating. He couldn’t see the mountains. Couldn’t see a way out. “I’d owe too much money.”

Money that he was going to need.

“You haven’t asked if the baby’s yours.”

He didn’t want to know. “Is it?”

“Of course it is. I’m two and a half months along.”

They’d gone tent camping. She’d forgotten her pills. He hadn’t had a condom. She’d said she was safe. That missing one pill wouldn’t matter.

He couldn’t remember if she’d had a period after that.

I want kids now, while I’m still young enough for them to think I’m cool. Ella’s words came back to him. From the night she’d broken up with him. The first time he’d ever heard them.

But maybe she’d been planning this all along—from the camping trip on. Even before they’d found out about the scholarship.

Someone should really turn the air conditioner on in the truck.

Had she known that she was pregnant the night she’d told him she was going to the pig roast with Rick? Or at least suspected?

“What about Rick?”

“We broke up.”

Because she found out she was pregnant with Mark’s baby?

“Did you sleep with him?”

“Yes.”

So he could still sleep with Addy. No—what in the hell was he thinking? He didn’t know what to think.

Or do.

“Does anyone else know?” Was he pond scum for doubting her? For thinking that the baby might not be his?

“Just my mom.”

Dot and he had gotten along. Mostly because Dot liked anyone with pants who’d take care of her daughter. “What’s she think?”

“She’s excited about having a grandbaby. She’s been waitin’ a long time.” Ella’s drawl sounded odd. Unfamiliar.

“And the doctor thinks it’s okay for you to fly?” Were his doubts about the baby’s paternity wishful thinking?