As he spoke those last words, he didn’t need to see the frozen expression on Iva’s face to realize how arrogant they sounded.
The taste of something bitter filled his mouth and he looked down and away from the disappointed expression on her face.
“It’s very sudden, Gideon. Just last Friday, I was at the shop with Fiona and you’d—er—been there the night before. And now suddenly you’re announcing your engagement to Rachel. Is there something else going on here?” Iva pressed gently.
He might as well tell them. It was going to be obvious soon enough. “Rachel’s pregnant. I told her we would get married.”
Grandfather opened his mouth to speak, but a warning look from Iva magically silenced him. He closed his mouth, but his cheeks became mottled as he fought to control his reaction.
“The baby is yours?” Iva asked.
“Yes. I’m doing a DNA test to be certain—I’m notcompletelyoblivious to feminine wiles—but I’ve no reason to believe otherwise.” He glanced at Iva. “It was my decision to get married, and she agreed.”
Gideon drew in a deep breath and spewed it out slowly, then continued. “She gave me the whole argument that it was better for the child, if the parents weren’t in love, not to get married. And that she was more than financially capable of raising the baby on her own with a nanny. She said I could be as involved with the child as I wanted to, but that there was no reason for us to get married. I told her that was ridiculous, and I wasn’t about to let my child grow up without a father.”
The unspoken words “like I did” hung silently in the air.
“It’s the right thing to do,” Gideon Senior said, nodding sagely. The color in his face had returned to normal. “Your responsibility is your responsibility and you’re right to own up to it, Gideon. I’m proud of you, son.”
Iva didn’t speak. She took a sip of her Riesling and looked at him, then at Gideon Senior, and then back again, pointedly remaining silent.
“I’ll be bringing Rachel to the Children of Grand Rapids Fundraiser at Meijer Gardens in a couple of weeks. You’ll have a chance to meet her again then.”
“Are you going to tell your father?” his grandfather asked.
Gideon set his water glass down, but kept his fingers wrapped around it. “Yes. I’m planning to visit him on Monday.”
* * *
The last time he’d visited his father was last June, for his birthday and Father’s Day (conveniently within the same week), but Gideon refused to feel guilty about that fact.
He signed in and was approved to enter the prison, and then strode down the long, white, empty halls.
In the last two weeks, his life had flipped from one of laughter, freedom, and pure happiness to one of duty and seriousness. He had enough to feel guilty about. Not visiting his father more than a couple times a year wasn’t going on the damned list too.
Gideon took his seat at the table spliced by a wall made of clear Plexiglas. He watched as Gid, as his father preferred to be called, preceded a guard and sat down on the other side of the wall. Both men picked up the heavy black telephone receivers that would allow them to speak to each other.
“Long time no see.”
Gideon swallowed a sharp retort. “Hello Gid.” He’d long since stopped thinking of him as Dad, or even Father.
“To what do I owe this honor?”
“Thought I’d let you know that I’m getting married.” Gideon focused on keeping his fingers from tapping nervously on the counter in front of him.
“Well, that’s nice of you.” His words sounded sincere, and when Gideon looked up, what he saw in his father’s face matched the tone of his words. “I’m glad you’ve found someone.”
“Thank you.”
Silence yawned.
“You gonna tell me about her? Is she that redhead Dad was talking to me about? He really likes her.”
Gideon snapped his eyes up again, shocked. His grandfather had visited Gidandtold him about Fiona?
“No…no, it’s not her. She was too…uh…flighty. Not serious enough. We didn’t have a lot in common. I’m going to marry a woman more like me—down to earth, professional, focused, aggressive. She’s the principle of a very hot marketing company that just won the Hottest Midwest Company of the Year fromFortune. It’s a very prestigious award, and there are a lot of press opportunities and—and other benefits related to it,” he added lamely.
“Sounds a lot like you…and your grandfather. But tell me about this redhead who’s not serious enough for you. Dad made it sound like you two were destined for the altar.”
