“I really don’t give a damn but I don’t want that for you. It would kill me to see your picture in the gossip column with some stupid heading about me once being some kind of bizarre sexual deviant.” He’s still shaking.
“It might not stick. You’re no longer one of Australia’s most eligible bachelors. Your days of making the papers may have ended when you put a wedding ring on your finger.”
“That’s not really how it works. What I did was illicit. People love a scandalous story—especially when it’s real. It’s way more interesting than the happily ever after.” He fists his hair and groans. “Fuck, Margaret McLachlan will kill me if she finds out.”
“Then we should tell her about the baby as soon as possible. She won’t want her grandchild to be fatherless.”
“I don’t know about that. She’s going to be mad as hell.”
Margaret isn’t dumb. She’s going to put the pieces together. Everyone will. “I spent three months with you and left. She’s going to figure out I was one of them. I’m not really crazy about that idea. I don’t want to disappoint her.”
“My mum loves you, L. She won’t think less of you.” He gets up from the couch and walks over to gather the pieces of his phone. He takes his SIM card out and inspects it. “I need your phone. I have an important call to make.”
I retrieve my phone from the bedroom and give it to Jack Henry and he makes the card exchange. He’s standing with his back to me when he dials a number and waits for an answer. “Jim, I have another job for you. I need you to look into someone—a woman named Jenna Rosenthal.”
Jenna Rosenthal. Another bitch I’d like to kick in the ass while wearing my boots. And I will if the opportunity arises, with a big-ass smile on my face.
We decided we wanted to tell Margaret and Henry about the baby in person, but because of work Jack Henry needed to do at Avalon this week, we had to wait until the weekend to make the trip to Sydney. I’m sure my mother-in-law suspects why we’re coming again so soon. I could hear the exhilaration in her voice over the phone. We’d only hung up for a few moments when she called back to tell me she’s baking a chocolate cake for me—one I can take home when we leave—and even gave me permission to not share with Jack Henry.
We’ve taken my in-laws out to dinner instead of cooking at their place. The restaurant is formal, and overpriced, but it’s what the McLachlans are accustomed to. There’s even a woman walking around serenading diners. She stops to sing for a couple and belts out “At Last.” I’m watching the scene happen from a distance but it’s quite clear at the end of the song that the man is proposing to his dinner companion when he drops to one knee. The diners around them begin clapping and it spreads throughout the entire restaurant, most patrons likely believing they’re applauding the songstress.
Everyone at our table has ordered wine, except me. Henry pays that little tidbit absolutely no attention but Margaret takes notice. I know because she’s suddenly giddy and it’s not from the wine.
“Jack, Randall tells me you brought his granddaughter on for an internship.”
Uh-oh. “I did, but she found another one. She wanted to be closer to her college friends. She was more concerned with partying than learning to manage a vineyard.” Nice one, McLachlan. The only good thing I can say about Bianca is that she had the good sense to go away quietly so Jack Henry and Mr. Brees didn’t experience a hiccup in their business relationship.
Jack Henry and his dad speak the vineyard language and I’m mostly lost. I think Margaret understands a lot but chooses to not join in. I think she still holds a little resentment for that life, although it made her and Henry a nice living. “Do you understand anything they’re saying?”
She lifts her glass and takes a drink. “More than I care to know.”
“I’m interested in learning. I want to understand so he can talk to me about things happening on the vineyards.”
“I’m going to give you some advice.” I smile, remembering the last bit she gave me. She grins too and leans in, lowering her voice. “Some more advice. A vineyard is work to him. It’s his profession and he has employees he discusses that with. He pays them quite well for that service and you aren’t his employee. Don’t allow the vineyards to enter your home life and make damn sure you don’t let them into your bedroom. Be his outlet—a safe place where he can escape—when all the shit that goes along with that life becomes too much for him.”
Margaret has a different way of looking at things. Here I thought I would be bringing myself closer to my husband by becoming part of his work life, but she’s telling me the opposite. And I think she’s right.
“Trust me, Laurelyn. He will hold you in a different regard if he views you as his refuge and not his confidant.” She returns to her entree and I can only think of how I hope to be the kind of mother she is. I want to be strong and confident, yet gentle and loving. I wish I’d had her as my role model instead of my own mom.
Jack Henry takes my hand and gives it a squeeze under the table after we order dessert. I’m guessing that’s my cue he’s ready to spill the beans. “Laurelyn and I have an announcement.” Henry is yet to be in tune with what we’re about to say but Margaret can predict it easily. She literally looks ready to burst. “Laurelyn’s pregnant.”
Henry does the manly, fatherly slap on Jack Henry’s back as he congratulates us. I almost think I see his chest inflate, like some sort of pride thing about his boys being able to swim hard enough to impregnate me on the first try.
Margaret comes out of her chair and I do too. She pulls me into her arms in a tight embrace. “I knew it. Ohh … I’m so happy for you.” She releases me and holds my arms out for a look. “When can I expect my new grandbaby?”
“October first.”
“You have a date. Does that mean you’ve already had a visit with a doctor?”
“Yes. I have an ultrasound picture. Would you like to see it?”
“Absolutely.” She pulls glasses from her purse, slips them on, and looks up at me. “It sucks getting old eyes. I can’t see anything without these ridiculous things.”
“I think you look really good in them.” Margaret never looks anything less than classy.
“Bullshit. I look old as hell,” she laughs. She holds the printout at a distance for a better view. “I do believe that is one of the sweetest little dots I’ve ever seen.”