Chapter13
Lola tossedthe sunny side up eggs in the trash and scraped the rest off the pan, then turned on the tap to run some water over it. Non-stick myass.
“Buenos dias to you,” Consuelo said when she appeared in the kitchen and pointed at the clock. “You’re trying to steal my job? It’s not even seven o’clock.” Consuelo put her bag on the table and shot her an amusedlook.
“I wouldn’t last one morning.” Lola turned off the tap, wiped off her hands on the apron. “I felt like trying to perfect my sucky eggs.” What better distraction to get a break from the crazy doubts lurking in hermind?
“What went wrong?”
You want a list?Lola removed the apron and bunched it into a ball. “Probably me. Anyone else knows how to do it, that’s for damnsure.”
“Yes, it’syou.”
Lola plopped on the chair and sighed. She rubbed her knuckles on her eyes. She should have slept better—but thinking about the baby in her belly didn’t help. What if she became a mother like Margo? Bile floated up her throat. Not possible.
“You aren’t a cook. So what? You don’t need to excel at everything.”
“I know, but I had mastering eggs as one of my goals,” she said in a small voice.
Consuelo tapped her shoulder and shook her head. “It takes time. All we want in life takestime.”
“Yes, but we don’t always have time to wait for things to happen,” she said, remembering her nine month deadline. She touched her belly. She’d only found out she was pregnant two weeks ago, but she already wanted to shelter the life growing inside. A part of her wanted to do it immediately, but she wrestled her impulsiveness and willed herself to slow down and come up with the right approach. She needed to have a plan when she delivered the news. This time, nothing would go wrong. “Some things come as a surprise.”
Consuelo glanced to the sides as if to make sure no one heard them, then pulled a chair for herself and sat across from her. “How far along areyou?”
Lola shifted in the chair. Am I so obvious? “I found out two weeks ago. Howdid—
Consuelo’s lips broke into a knowing smile. “Mija I’ve helped deliver babies. I can tell when a woman is pregnant.”
Lola swallowed. “Please don’t say anything. I haven’t told Jackyet.”
Consuelo reached across the table for her hand and gave her a light squeeze. “Your secret is safe with me. What are you going to do? You can’t hide it forever.”
“I’ve been thinking. I’m worried about telling Jack when I still have so much to figureout.”
Consuelo tapped her hand. “Don’t overdo it. Take it from a woman who’s been married for almost three decades.”
“How did you make it last solong?”
Consuelo chuckled. “I come from a different time. Separating was never an option.”
Ouch.“Sometimes it’s the only option,” she said, more to herself than to Consuelo, and let the words sink in. When she’d married Jack, she’d been smitten by him, and the fact he wanted her so badly—bad enough to marry her. But the ink on their marriage certificate had barely dried, and he’d started talking about creating a family. That had scared her silly, and his unwillingness to wait—especially when she never specified for how long—created a wedge between them that they never overcame. What aboutnow?
Lola straightened on the chair. What if she gave them all a chance? “We dated, then got married, then hated each other, then became friends, then had sex…” Lola said more to herself than to Consuelo.
“Did you care for him even when you hatedhim?”
Lola slowly nodded, realization dawning on her. One way or another, she’d loved Jack through their ups and downs. She’d never admitted it to herself before. She longed for the warmth of his embrace, the sweet spot on the curve of his neck where she loved to rest her head after they had sex. Yes she loved him, but she wouldn’t tell him about the baby until she found out if he felt the same for her. Because she wanted him to stay with her for all the right reasons, not just because she’d gotten pregnant.
Jack pacedthe floor from side to side like a jittery horse.
For the past two months, they’d given each other a truce—some truce. Without talking about the future, they succumbed to their sexual attraction whenever they could. Her smiles chipped away at his resolution of rooting against her bed and breakfast, little by little. Maybe he’d been holding onto the house for too long. And for what? When he’d been the foreman’s son, he’d dreamed of occupying it one day. A silly, nonsense dream that turned into reality. Somehow, every time he looked around the place, he was reminded of all he had. More than the homes he owned elsewhere. This. This house was a reminder of all he’d achieved.
Do I still need it? He watched the living room. A few guests from Lola’s list had arrived for the grand opening. The two waiters she had hired had already made the rounds. Consuelo busied herself in the kitchen—she had insisted on coming on her day off to help with the party even though everything seemed to be running on schedule.
He pulled at his suit. She did it. Whether he had believed her or not in the beginning, Lola managed to make the needed changes to the ranch, had executed a stellar marketing plan and booked the place solid for the first few weeks after it opened. Glancing down at his tumbler, he smiled. She had seen her project through.
So she could finish something she started. He thought about the pregnancy book he’d found tucked inside her drawer two days ago. He took another swig of scotch.
