I laugh because she’s right. The baby is tiny. “It’s quite early—only six weeks. The doctor says it’s the size of a rice grain. Most people don’t announce their pregnancies until twelve weeks but we’re too excited to wait that long.”
“Will you tell everyone or are we privy to the information because we’re the grandparents?”
I don’t know. We haven’t discussed anything beyond telling Margaret and Henry in case this story gets out about his past. “What are we doing?”
“I told you from the beginning, love. I want the world to know my wife is pregnant.”
Okay, then. I guess we’re telling the world.
I call my mom from the car as Jack Henry drives us home from Henry and Margaret’s. I’m excited to hear her reaction. I hope she’s as happy as Margaret is.
We begin our conversation like normal, her catching me up on everything going on in her life, before I move on to the news I called to share. “Mom, Jack Henry and I have wonderful news. I’m pregnant.”
Silence.
“Mom, are you still there?”
“Laurie, why would you allow that to happen? A baby is going to ruin your career.”
Just because I ruined her life doesn’t mean my baby will ruin mine. Why can’t she understand that? “We chose to have this baby because we want to start our family.”
“You’re being stupid. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”
I can’t take hearing these things from my mother. “I have to go.”
I end the call and let her reaction soak in for a minute before I tell Jack Henry the terrible things she said. I wait for his temper to engage, but it doesn’t. He pulls the car to the side of the road and takes me into his arms where I cry until I have no more tears to shed.
It’s almost been a week—that’s how long that blackmailing bitch said she’d give Jack Henry before she called again—so we expect to hear from her tomorrow. My decision still stands. I’m supporting my husband, even if this goes public. I say that with incredible allegiance but then I become afraid when I think of the remaining ten women I’ve not had the displeasure of meeting. Will they come out of the woodwork? There could be more false paternity claims. Or true ones. Are we making the wrong decision by not paying her off? I don’t know.
Jack Henry is expecting a call from Jim today. I hope he is the best—as my husband believes—and tells us he’s found something we can use to rid ourselves of that woman.
Jim phones while Jack Henry is sitting at my bedside during my morning routine—lying in bed nauseated, sipping Mrs. Porcelli’s remedy while nibbling on crackers. He sits with me every morning and helps me to the bathroom when my nausea progresses to something more.
He’s listening intently when the nearly overwhelming wave hits me. I close my eyes, wishing it all away, but it refuses to obey so I’m scrambling to get out of bed. “Just a minute, Jim.” Jack Henry drops his phone to the bed to help me up.
I rush to the bathroom but wave him away. “Take the call,” I tell him between heaves. “I’m fine.”
He’s hesitant as displayed by how long he stands in the bathroom. “Call out if you need anything.”
I nod, my head hanging over the toilet.
I wash up following my vomiting episode and I think it’s possible that I feel better. Yes, I believe I do.
As I come out of the bathroom, Jack Henry is finishing his call. “My man, Jim, has discovered a lot of dirty little secrets about one Jenna Rosenthal. Most are insignificant for our needs but one transgression will be of use. I say we invite Miss Rosenthal to dinner. I don’t believe a phone call will do.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Something not befitting a gentleman—and I want to see her face when I do it.”
We wait in the restaurant at the hotel where all of this shit began—the one where I came to Jack Henry as someone else. Worst idea ever.
I can’t believe Jenna agreed to meet us here. It’s really sort of stupid on her part since it’s her place of employment, at least the hotel is, but the restaurant is inside. I wonder what she does here—and what she did three years ago that drew Jack Henry to her.
He hasn’t told me what Jim found on her. Frankly, I don’t care as long as it gets her out of our lives. I shudder when I think of how differently this could have gone. What if Jack Henry had been her son’s father? What a nightmare that would’ve been.
“She’s late.” That irritates him even further.
“Don’t worry, that money-hungry bitch is coming. She didn’t do all this to not carry through on it.”
She arrives ten minutes later. “You’re late.”
“I couldn’t get here sooner because Ashton is sick. He probably caught whatever it is at that medical clinic you made us go to.”
Jack Henry is quick to reply. “Maybe you should’ve tried knowing who fathered your child and we wouldn’t have been there in the first place.” I think I’m most glad her son wasn’t his because I don’t think I could have taken the bickering between them.
Our server comes by and Jenna orders a glass of wine. “I’m only staying long enough to discuss what I want from you.” She looks at me. “I must say I’m surprised to see you here, so that can only mean one thing: you once agreed to be his whore just like the rest of us.”
I don’t respond because I can’t deny what she’s saying.
“She was never my whore.”
“Right.” A glass of wine is placed in front of her and I watch as she goes through the process of using her senses to judge it. “Logan Ross, that’s who he was to me, taught me a lot of things but appreciating a great glass of Shiraz is something I’ve kept with me. Which wine has he taught you to enjoy?” She looks down at my water. “What … no wine for the vineyard princess?” Neither of us replies and she begins smiling. “Ah-hah … you’re pregnant. I guess congratulations are in order for the perfect couple.” Her voice is saturated with venom. “Is that why you stood firmly by his side? Or is it because he’s filthy rich?”
Jack Henry is fuming. “Not what we’re here to discuss.”
She’s grinning. “Then let’s get down to why we’re here. I’ve done a little research on you since we spoke and I’m glad I did because it turns out you’re even wealthier than I first thought.”