With a frown, he made his way across the street. Turning, he glanced at the house of that old hag Mary Ellerbee to see if she was spying. He’d bumped into her once and he didn’t plan to do it again. But her house was dark.
Cheryl heard him approach and turned to him, her face welcoming. But he didn’t miss that she slipped the necklace inside her blouse.
He allowed her to kiss him but he didn’t return the gesture. Holding her at arm’s length, he looked her up and down. “I saw you today and the back of your blouse was wrinkled. From now on, maybe you shouldn’t lean back against the seat.”
“Okay,” she said, but she wasn’t meeting his eyes.
He pulled himself up straight, to his tallest, and looked down at her. “What’s the problem?”
“I have something to tell you.” Her voice was soft, almost as though she was afraid of something.
“About the necklace?” He wanted her to think that he kneweverything.
“The what? Oh.” Smiling, she pulled it out of the inside of her blouse. She’d unbuttoned the top for him, something she wasn’t allowed to do in school. “It’s from Jack. Isn’t it sweet?”
“That Wyatt kid gave you a gold necklace?”
She held it tightly in her hand. “Yes. He helps me so much. I wouldn’t have accomplished all I’ve done if it weren’t for him.”
He stepped back from her. “And what exactly have you accomplished?”
“Oh, Allie, please don’t do your jealousy thing now. I have something important to tell you.”
“Don’t call me that and what do you mean jealous?”
She put her hand on his chest and looked up at him. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Alastair couldn’t say anything. He just froze where he was.
“It’s all right.” Her voice was urgent. “I’ve thought everything out. We’ve always planned to get married but we’ll just do it sooner. I’ll finish high school through correspondence and we—the baby and I—will make a home for you when you go to college. They have dorms for married students. I’ll get a job and help with the expenses and...”
Alastair was backing away from her.
“Allie? I mean, Alastair?” She stepped closer to him. “Nothing has changed, just the date.”
“Go,” he murmured. “I have to go.”
“I know. This is your training weekend. I won’t see you again until Sunday night. We’ll talk everything out then.”
Alastair couldn’t reply. He just walked away with as much composure as he could manage. He always parked his car far away, then made his way through side streets and backyards of people he knew weren’t home. But this time, he went straight down the street and didn’t slow down until he reached the good part of Lachlan.
His car was near the bookstore. He got in, shut the door and let himself breathe. What did he do now?
Motherwas the only thought in his mind. She’d be angry but she’d know how to take care of this.
He took his time, trying to let it all sink in before he went home. He needed to present the facts to her in a way that showed he had reached manhood.
She was in the little sitting area off her bedroom. His father had his own set of rooms that were smaller and less lavishly decorated, but his mother loved silk and pearls and jade.
She glanced up from her book on the history of France in the sixteenth century—she did not believe in novels. There was only the tiniest flicker of annoyance when she saw his face, then she composed herself. She knew that he had something bad to tell her.
Alastair got his height and his blondness from her. Some people said that he was so much like his mother that it was hard to believe that Hamish had anything to do with him.
Noreen put down her book, nodded toward the blue brocade chair, then waited for him to speak.
In spite of his planning, Alastair didn’t know where to start. At the beginning? Tell how he made such an effort to meet her through that dreadful Delia? No. Not there.
“She’s pregnant.”
