Beckett’slittle green monster popped up and leered. “Does Adrian know?”
“Well,um, I never told him about the pregnancy.”
“Whynot?” Somewhat mollified, the monster slithered back into its hole.
“I don’tknow. On some level, I believed it was yours, and I just didn’t want to dealwith him.”
Breathescaped Beckett in slow flight. He dropped his forehead in his palm.
“Areyou there, Beck?”
“Yeah,pixie. I’m here.”
“I’m,uh, glad the video didn’t get out. Tom told me she made it last spring withoutyou knowing, back when you were kind of screwed up.”
“I’mglad you know.” And that you listened to him, ‘cause you sure as hell didn’tlisten to me.
“Lookslike you’ve been keeping a low profile,” she added. “At least I haven’t seenanything in the tabloids.”
Soshe’s looking? “Becausethey can’t report something that’s not happening. Well, I guess they could, butthey’d be making it up, and then I’d sue their asses.”
“Um,how’s it going, playing again?”
“It’s good.Not gonna lie, it was killer at first, and my ankles get a little cranky, butI’m gonna enjoy it while it lasts. Hey, I have an idea. We have a long homestand coming up. How about I fly you out to catch a game?”
“Idon’t know, Beck.”
“Whynot?”
“I needtime to figure things out. Get that video out of my head, put all that’shappened behind me. I’m not confident in my judgment where men are concerned.”
Don’tlump me in with “men.” I didn’t do anything wrong! he wanted to howl. Instead hesaid, “Can we at least be friends again, Andie? God, I miss you … so much.”
Hervoice cracked. “I don’t know if I can go back.”
“Fine,then. Don’t go back. Go forward. Don’t be my friend, be my wife.”
She letout a sad chuckle. “I think you should be friends before becoming spouses.”
“You’reputting us in a catch-22, aren’t you? We did the friend thing, and it worked.Now let’s do the spouse thing.”
“Idon’t think it’d work, Beck. Look, I really should go.”
Hehuffed out a breath. “What are you doing for your birthday?”
“Icecream and an old movie.”
“Vanilla?My favorite. Beats the rest of those fancy flavors, hands down. Always has.”
“Thanksfor the birthday wishes, Beck.”
“Don’tdo this, Andie. Please.”
She wasgone. He looked around the space, melancholy sinking relentless claws into him.The realization that no copper-headed little girls, no blue-eyed boys were onthe horizon tore a gash somewhere deep inside. How did he even mourn? He hadn’tbeen there, hadn’t been allowed a part. It was as though she’d gotten pregnantin a vacuum, and he’d been an anonymous donor. And now the last tether, theonly tie he’d had to her, had been hacked in half like a deep-space astronaut’ssevered hose, setting him adrift to roll and tumble end over end, floating incold, dark nothingness forever.
CHAPTER 30
Hard Habit to Break
After Paige hung up, she heaved out a long, slow breath,dropped her head on her folded arms, and let out the tears clogging her throat.She cried for the loss of the baby she’d never planned on. She cried for theloss of a friend and lover she’d never planned on. And she cried for everythingshe had planned on and lost—celebrating success with Grandma, a faithfulhusband who loved her, children. Also lost was her inner goddess, that brazenbeauty who’d emerged when Beckett had coaxed her out, and who’d slinked intoher cave when Paige pushed him away. Paige missed her.
Shemissed Beckett.
Puton your big-girl pants and stop feeling sorry for yourself.
Shehauled herself up and opened her freezer, staring numbly at its sparsewhite-rack shelves. Ice cream. She needed ice cream. Vanilla, Beckett’sfavorite. No, nobody loved vanilla best. Yet she did. Why couldn’t he?
Thecold air was still streaming over her face when her phone buzzed. She picked itup, surprised by the Florida number. “Mom?”
“Paige.How’s my girl?”
Mygirl? “I’mfine, Mom,” she said warily. “What are you doing?” It came off rude, not whatshe’d intended, but her mom seemed not to notice. Always in her own world.
“Well,I’m calling because … Paige, I’m getting married.”
“What?Who?”
Hermother trilled, a sound Paige had loved as a girl. Now she just sounded like awoman pretending to be a girl herself. “His name is Ken Sorenson, and we weregood friends in high school. Different backgrounds, different social circles,but we were close, you know? Not in a romantic way. Just friends. He moved awayjunior year, and I … Well, let’s just say I lost my way, and for that, Paige,I’m sorrier than you know.”
Whoa.Is hell freezing over? Stunnedby her mom’s apology, Paige deflected with a question. “How did you reconnect?”
“Analumni newsletter. I sent him an email. And here we are! I think you’ll likehim, Paige.” Her mother cleared her throat. “Ken has encouraged me to reach outand explain about your father.” Her mother paused, and Paige allowed this statementto sink in.
“Myfather? You know who he is?” She fought to hold back her astonishment.
“Yes,Paige. I always did. So did your grandmother, but she thought it best to keepit from you. Ken has convinced me otherwise, and honey, I hope I’m doing theright thing.”
Paigestumbled to a kitchen chair and sat down hard. Her hand trembled as she broughtit to her forehead. “So all these years you let me believe he was some random,unknown guy you picked up? Who is he, Mom?” she croaked.
A longdrag on a cigarette. “His name was Cliff Hartwig. I met him when I was sixteen.He was dark and dangerous, unlike any other boy I knew, and I was dazzled.Unfortunately, he turned out to be … Well, he led me down twisted paths it’staken me a lifetime to recover from. Do you know the song ‘Magic Man’ by Heart?That was our story, Cliff’s and mine. We were together about fifteen months.Mom sued for custody after you were born. Cliff was livid; he wanted you sobad. But be grateful your grandma won. His life—our life—was no place for achild.”
“So heknew me? Wait. Was Cliff Hartwig?”
“Cliffwas a smooth-talking, small-time drug dealer who cheated the wrong people. Whenhe couldn’t smooth-talk his way out of a con, he turned state’s evidence andgot a reduced sentence. But he died in prison six months later when hiscellmate stabbed him to death. The cellmate might have
