This was her exchange now. This bulge of the belly. Look how odd and awkward, how fat and unfashionable she looked, despite the gown. And yet, Reginald doted. He would stroke that bulge, even during passion. And in passion, he was kinder, gentler than she’d ever known him to be. She could almost love him during those times, when his hands were tender instead of demanding. Almost.
But love was not part of the game, and a game was all it was. This bartering pleasure for style. How could she love what was so weak, so deceitful, so arrogant? A ridiculous notion, as ridiculous as feeling pity for the wives they betrayed with her. Women who folded their thin lips and pretended not to know. Who passed her on the street with their noses in the air. Or women like her mother who slaved for them for pennies.
She was meant for bigger things, she thought, and lifted a heavy crystal decanter to stroke scent on her throat. She was meant for silks and diamonds.
When Reginald arrived, she would pout, just a little. And tell him of the diamond broach she’d seen that afternoon. How she would pine without it.
Pining wasn’t good for the child. She imagined the broach would be hers within a day.
She gave a light laugh, a little turn.
Then stopped, went still. Her hand trembled as she lifted it to press over her belly.
It had moved.
Inside her a flutter, a stretch. Little wings beating.
The glass reflected her as she stood in her shimmering gown, her fingers spread over the slight bulge as if she would guard what was inside.
Inside her. Alive. Her son.
Hers.
HAYLEY REMEMBERED IT vividly. Even in the morning there was nothing of the fragmented or misty quality of a dream.
“It was, I think it was, a kind of a bid for sympathy. More for empathy.” She held her cup in both hands as she sipped coffee in the breakfast nook.
“How so?” Mitch had his tape recorder and notebook as she’d requested. “Did she speak directly to you at some point?”
“No, because it wasn’t her, it was me. Or it was both of us. I wasn’t dreaming so much as I was there. I felt, I saw, I thought. She wasn’t just showing me, but reliving. If that makes sense.”
“Eat your eggs, sweetie-pie,” David urged her. “You look peaked.”
She scooped some up obediently. “She was beautiful. Not like the way we’ve seen her, really. Vibrant and drop-dead—excuse the term. There was so much going through her head—my head—I don’t know. Irritation about the changes in her body, the inconvenience, plots and plans to get more out of Reginald, surprise at his reaction to her condition, disgust for men like him, for their wives, envy, greed. It all just kept rolling around in a big mass.”
She paused, breathed. “I think she was already a little bit crazy.”
“And how was that a bid for sympathy?” Harper asked her. “Why would you feel sorry for someone like that?”
“It was the change. It was feeling the baby move. I felt it, too. That shock of feeling, the sudden realization that there’s life inside you. And there’s this wave of love along with it. In that moment, the baby was hers. Not a ploy or an inconvenience, but her child, and she loved it.” She looked at Roz.
“Yes.”
“So she was showing me. I loved my child, wanted it. And the man, the kind of man who’d use a woman like me, took it from me. She was wearing the bracelet. The heart bracelet. And I did feel for her. I don’t think she was a good person, certainly not a nice one, and even then, before the rest happened, I don’t think she was balanced. But she loved the child, wanted it. I think what she showed me was real, and she showed me because I’d understand it more than anyone else. Yeah, I felt sorry for her.”
“Sympathy is fine,” Mitch said. “But you can’t let down your guard. She’s using you, Hayley.”
“I know, and I won’t. I can feel for her, but I don’t have to trust her.”
DAYS PASSED, AND she waited for the next move, the next experience, but August boiled quietly toward September. The most wrenching experience was having her ancient car break down between work and the sitter’s, and finally having to accept it was time to replace it.
“It’s not just the money,” she told Harper as she strolled Lily through the used-car lot. “It’s one of my last links to childhood, I guess. My daddy bought that car, secondhand. I learned to drive with it.”
“It’ll go to a good home.”
“Hell, Harper, it’s going on the scrap heap, and we both know it. Poor, pitiful old thing. I know I’ve got to be sensible, too. I can’t be hauling Lily around in an unreliable car. I’ll be lucky if that salesman who took it off for appraisal doesn’t come back and say I owe him just for dumping it on him.”
“Just let me handle it.”
“I will not.” She stopped by a hatchback, kicked its tires. “You know what I hate? I hate that a lot of car salesmen and mechanics and that whole breed treat women who come in like brainless bimbos just because they don’t have a penis. Like all the automotive data and know-it-all is stored in their dicks.”
“Jesus, Hayley.” He had to laugh, even as he winced.
“It’s true. So, I’ve done my research. I know what I want and how much I should have to pay. He doesn’t want to deal with me, then I’ll just take my business elsewhere.”
She stopped by a sedan, braced one hand on the fender and waved the other in front of her face. “God almighty, it’s hot. Feel like every fluid in my body’s boiled away.”
“You look a little pale. Why don’t we go inside, sit down for a minute?”
“I’m okay. Just not resting well. Even when I sleep, I feel like I’m on alert, like the first few weeks after Lily was born. Makes me draggy and irritable. So if I end up snapping at you, try to bear with me.”
He rubbed the small of her back. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I appreciate you coming with me today, I really do. But don’t feel like you’ve got to step in.”
“Ever bought a car?”
She sent him a sidelong, annoyed look as she continued to push Lily’s stroller. “Just because I haven’t, doesn’t mean I’m some rube down from the hills. I’ve bought lots of other things, and I can guarantee I know more about negotiating prices than you. Rich boy.”
He grinned. “I’m just a working gardener.”
“You may work for a living, but you’ve got a few silver spoons tucked away for rainy days. Now here’s what I’m after.”
She stopped to study a sturdy-looking five-door Chevy. “It’s got plenty of room, but it’s not big and bulky, and it’s clean. It’s bound to get better mileage than my old car and it’s not flashy.”
She frowned over the listed price. “I’ll just get him to come down a bit, and it’ll be in my range. Sort of.”
“Don’t tell him you—”
“Harper.”
“Backing off.” He shook his head, stuck his hands in his pockets.
And had to saw his tongue in half when the salesman came out, big smiles, and announced the meager offer on the trade-in.
“Oh, is that all?” Hayley widened her baby blues and fluttered her lashes. “I guess sentiment doesn’t count, does it? But maybe, maybe you could just ease that up, a little bit, depending on what I buy. This one’s pretty. I like the color.”
Playing him, Harper realized, noting how she’d bumped up her accent. He went along for the ride as the salesman steered her toward a couple of pricier options, watched her chew her lip, flash her smile, and steer him right back to what she wanted.
Guy’s toast, he decided as she finagled the price down, took Lily out of the stroller to sit with her behind the wheel. Harper concluded nobody could resist the pair of them.
Two hours later, they were driving off the lot with Lily dozing in her carseat and Hayley beaming behind the wheel.
“ ‘Oh, Mr. Tanner, I just don’t know a thing about cars. You’re so sweet to help me out this way.’ ” Harper shook his head. “When we were sitting in there doing the paperwork I wanted to warn him to lift up his feet. It was
