“He laid it out for me, very seriously. Angrily. He’s not getting out of my way on this. He’s going to be a problem—as if I don’t have enough problems.” She leaned toward Vanni and wept on her shoulder. “He said he can’t make me like him, but he won’t let me take the babies away from him!”
“Like him?” Paul said. “Babies? What the hell’s going on here?”
Vanni looked over her shoulder at Paul. “Cameron’s the father—don’t tell anyone.”
“Please don’t tell anyone,” Abby stressed tearfully.
Paul was quiet for a long moment while Vanni just held Abby, comforting her. Finally he found his voice. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I didn’t mean to be so hostile,” Abby wept. “Maybe it’s pregnancy.”
“Sure it is, honey,” Vanni comforted.
“Wait a minute,” Paul attempted. “Wait a minute here.”
“Long story, Paul,” Vanni said. “Just don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain later, okay?”
“But I thought they just met!” Paul said.
“Obviously they didn’t just meet. Don’t be a dimwit. I’ll tell you about it later, after Abby gets calmed down.”
Paul turned away from them and went to pick little Matt up from the floor where he played. “Must be a long story,” he muttered. “Very, very long. Say, about five months long?”
“Abby, you’re going to have to apologize,” Vanni was saying. “You can’t be like that to him. I mean, you don’t have to be in love with him or anything, but you have to be civil. He has his rights. And he’s not a bad guy. In fact, he’s a very good guy.”
“I know, I know. It just got under my skin that I’m in charge of carrying these babies and giving birth to them and I still have no control! None! I just lost it.”
“Well, when you tell him that, everything will be—”
“Um, ladies?” Paul said from behind them. “You’re going to be at this a while, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Paul,” Vanni said. “Sorry.”
“Oh God,” Abby erupted. “You were going to have sex! You were alone for the first time in forever and were going to have sex, and I came home early and ruined everything.”
“It’s all right, baby,” Vanni said. “We can have sex anytime.”
Paul ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Well, actually…” Having sex at all around here was a lucky shot, with a baby, a houseguest and the general popping in, something that would be happening more now, with Muriel out of town. Anytime was pure fiction.
Paul pushed little Matt at Vanni. “Know what? I’m going to step out for a while. Go have a cup of coffee with Jack or something. You two get yourselves settled down. Hmm?”
“Sure,” Vanni said, taking charge of the baby. “Probably a good idea.”
As Paul was going out the door, Vanni was asking Abby, “Have you eaten, honey? Let me get you a little something to eat and we can talk about this.”
Two
Cameron walked into Jack’s and found at least a dozen people at different tables finishing up dinner. He sat up at the bar.
“Hey, Doc,” Jack greeted, slapping a napkin down. “How’s it going?”
“Great,” Cameron said unenthusiastically. “Can I have a scotch? Neat. Something good. Good and powerful.”
“Sure. Long day?” Jack asked as he turned to select a label that might do the trick.
“It got long. Don’t worry—I’ll have some dinner and coffee and take your wife off the hook for on-call.”
“We have that all worked out, Doc. But I thought you had dinner out with Abby tonight.”
“That didn’t exactly work out.”
Jack laughed. “That should thrill Paul. He had the idea he was going to be alone with his wife.”
“Yeah, well, it was beyond my control,” Cameron said. “Believe me.”
“Everything all right?”
“Dandy,” he said. He lifted his drink. “Swell.”
Cameron hadn’t even sipped his drink when Paul walked in. He sat next to Cam and put his elbows on the bar. “What you got there?” he asked Cameron.
“Scotch.”
“Gimme a Crown. Same recipe,” Paul said to Jack.
Jack got down a glass and poured. “I could’ve sworn you had plans for the evening,” he said to Paul.
“I thought so,” he said. He lifted his glass and took a drink. “But then Abby came home, having some kind of emotional crisis, and Vanni got all hooked up in that.” Paul glared briefly at Cameron. “Lots of crying. Carrying on.”
Cameron turned toward him. “I did not do anything to bring that on,” he said rather harshly. “I was completely courteous. Thoughtful. I was wonderful.”
“I know that,” Paul said. “I gather she brought it on herself. She said she lost her temper. Said some rude things. Mean things.” He sipped. “You’re gonna have to let it go, man. Cut her some slack. For being pregnant and out of her mind. You know?”
Jack was leaning on the bar, listening closely to this conversation that was, thankfully, not overheard by other dinner customers. Only Paul and Cameron were at the bar.
“I handled it the best way I could,” Cameron said.
“She said she feels like she has to do everything—having the babies and everything—and feels like she has no control.”
“She has no control?” Cameron asked hotly. Then he laughed bitterly.
“Yeah, well, she’s feeling real bad about it now.”
“Is that so?” Cameron said. “Well, guess what? I feel real bad about what she said, too.” Then he looked back into his drink and sulked.
“Come on,” Jack said. “What the hell could she have said?”
Cameron looked up from his drink. “She called me an unkind name.”
Jack laughed at him. “Well, you’re a big boy. What could a little pregnant girl call you that would get you so riled up?”
“Never mind. It’s over.”
“How about—sperm donor,” Paul supplied.
Cameron shot Paul an angry look. “Way to go, dipshit. Anybody ever tell you you have a big mouth?”
“When Vanni said not to tell, I didn’t think she meant you. I mean, you know. Right?”
Cameron glanced at Jack.
“Don’t worry about Jack,” Paul said. “He doesn’t talk. Well, he does, but when he has specific orders not to, he can manage to keep his mouth shut.”
Then Jack, caution drawing every word, said, “Now, why in the world would she say something like that to you?”
“I can’t imagine,” Cameron said, pouting.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better about things, Vanessa called me a dimwit for asking just about the same question.” He took a drink. “Apparently we have ourselves a situation. Dad.”
“Whoa,” Jack said, straightening up. He reached for another glass and tipped the bottle over it. Jack usually waited until closing to partake, but it seemed appropriate to commiserate with these two. “Was everything all right with the ultrasound?” he asked warily.
“Fine,” Cameron said, sipping. “Babies look great.”
“And at least one’s a boy,” Paul said, picking up his drink. After a swallow he found Cameron glaring at him again. “What? I wasn’t told not to tell that.”
“You are a dimwit,” Cameron patiently pointed out.
“Yeah? Well, I’m a dimwit who was going to get lucky once the baby was tucked in, until you got Abby all upset and crying and—” He stopped suddenly. He shook his head dismally.
“Gentlemen, I propose a toast,” Jack said, lifting his glass. “Let’s drink to silence. If this conversation ever leaves this bar, we’re all going to die. Skinless.”
“Silence,” the other men agreed.
“All right,” Jack said, “since there’s a pact of silence, I just want to know when this could have happened. How this could have happened.”
Cameron put down his glass. “The weekend of Joe Benson’s wedding in Grants Pass. And, in the usual way.”
“You weren’t at that wedding,” Paul pointed out.
“I had dinner at the hotel restaurant that night. I met her in the bar. Now, that’s all I’m saying about it. And if you let on to Abby that I said that much, my situation is only going to get more impossible. You follow me here, Paul?”
“Well, what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?”
“Well,” he said, looking over each shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard, then leaning close to whisper. Jack, of course, leaned down to not miss a word. “She’s pregnant. You’re the father. Anything come to mind there, bud? Like maybe marriage?”
Cameron put down his drink impatiently. “Pay attention, Paul. I couldn’t even get her to go to Fortuna to eat at a restaurant with me. She hates me. I was a perfect gentleman, back then and tonight, but she hates me. She called me a sperm donor.”
“Whew,” Paul said.
“Whew,” said Jack.
All three men lifted their glasses in misery.
Vanessa put water for tea on the stove for Abby and while it heated she put little Matt down in his bed with his bottle. When she got back to the kitchen, Abby was blowing her nose, wiping her eyes. While Vanni let the tea steep, she put some leftover roast beef, potatoes and carrots on a plate and warmed it in the microwave. She put the tea in front of her friend and left the dinner in the microwave. Vanni pulled herself a beer out of the refrigerator and sat down opposite Abby. “Done crying yet?” she asked.
Abby nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Well, I do. My emotions were so crazy when I was pregnant, I don’t know how anyone could stand to be around me. I was a complete wreck.”
“I should be so ashamed,” Abby said with a sniff. “You had it so much worse.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” Vanni said. “You’ve got a good bit of stress right now. Between being unmarried and having all those bills and that horrible prenup, it’s small wonder you’re a bit…reactive.”
Abby blew her nose. “I complain about having no control, then I lose control. It makes no sense.”
“Abby, I’m not known for wisdom, I’m best known for having the worst goddamn temper. Direct quote from my husband who has no temper at all. I want you to know, I’ll stand by you and support you, no matter what your next move is. But, here’s what I think you should do. I think you should go to the clinic first thing in the morning and apologize to Cameron. I think you should have a frank talk with him about how you two are going to manage parenting these children. You two only have to make one commitment—that’s to them. This can’t go on. You’re not going to let them go, and neither is he. You have to find a way to work together, whether you’re friends or not. But so much better if you’re friends. For them. Huh?”
“It just makes me so furious!” Abby got out, another tear rolling down her cheek.
“What makes you so furious?”
“That he ended up here! That he found me out! That now, in addition to everything else, I have to find a way to deal with him! I just wanted to have my babies, take them to my mother’s and get on with my life.”
“Yeah? Well, Abby, you have no right.”
Abby looked up, eyes wide and glassy, a tissue scrunched in her hand.
“Listen, I told you I knew Cameron before Paul finally stepped up to the plate and told me how he felt about me. Well, I can’t say I knew him all that well back then—we had two very platonic dates. But we did a lot of talking and I learned that he really expected he’d be married with a family by now. He wanted a wife, children. He loves kids so much that he did a second residency in pediatrics. He—”