This room had beautifully carved crown moldings that could easily be returned to their original beauty if touched up and painted, maple floors with a buildup of grime around the edges that could be cleaned with refinishing, and dingy mint-green paint on the walls. She didn’t think any upgrades would happen. Ben had brought in two new-looking chairs, a sofa and a couple of floor lamps, but she had no idea if he intended to make it any more homey.
Ben looked as though he’d been working hard since he’d returned from town, if his worn, dirt-streaked jeans and blue flannel shirt were any indication. She hadn’t noticed earlier, but his dark auburn hair needed a cut, or maybe it only looked disastrous because he’d been repeatedly running his hands through it, exactly as she’d done when she’d first learned of this news.
Ben cleared his throat, bringing her attention back to him. His dark gray eyes, the color of a winter storm, looked at her. “Is that why you’ve refused to talk to me?”
“Not at first. I was...embarrassed.”
“Because you never do what you did? What we did? I get that. But you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” When she didn’t respond, he asked, “How long have you known?”
“Only a few days, but I’ve known something was...different for a while.”
“Have you...thought about...what you’re going to do?” His expression was that of a man going down for the third time, grasping at any twig of hope for a different outcome. There wasn’t going to be one.
She scooted forward in her chair, sat straighter and gave him a hard look. “I’m having it and I’m keeping it.”
“Of course. I wasn’t suggesting anything else, I swear. Listen, it’s your choice.” He stood and paced around the room, his boots thumping on the hardwood. “I’ll do my part, of course. I’ll pay child support.”
She waited, wondering what he would say next. Would he want to be part of the baby’s life? That wasn’t what she wanted. Did most men say they wanted to help when they were handed a bombshell like this one? Other than a name on her birth certificate, she didn’t know who her father was and doubted he knew of her existence.
Ben swung back to look at her. His face worked for a minute before he went on, his voice strangled. “I have to tell you, though, Lisa, I never intended to be a dad. I like kids, but I’ve got the life I always worked for—money to do what I like, go where I want, deals working, projects and businesses all over the world.” He shook his head and frowned. “I just had this conversation with my father. I never saw myself with a family because I thought it would be unfair to a kid for me to either be gone all the time or to drag it around the world with me.”
“You don’t ever want anything to impinge on your freedom.”
He barely seemed to think about his response. Throwing his hands wide, he asked, “Would you?”
Lisa started to answer but a wave of nausea rose in her throat. She stumbled to her feet and ran to where she recalled the downstairs bathroom was located. Desperately hoping the ancient plumbing worked, she lurched into the room and shoved the door closed behind her.
A few seconds later she had emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl and stood trembling, holding on to the washbasin as she rinsed her mouth and splashed water on her face. She spotted a roll of paper towels beneath the sink and used one to pat her face dry. Staring at her miserable reflection in the mirror, she took several deep breaths and then scooped more water into her mouth.
She could hear Ben pacing to and fro outside, which meant it was time for her to leave. She had done what she was supposed to do. After stewing about it for days, choosing exactly the right words, even writing out what she planned to say so that her sudden onslaught of brain burps wouldn’t hijack her thoughts, she had told Ben he was going to be a father. Shock and surprise were what she’d expected, but she hadn’t counted on his adamant statement that he’d never wanted to be a dad.
She should have guessed, though. He’d had legions of girlfriends over the years, some in Reston, others scattered around the country, maybe even the world. If he’d wanted to stay with one woman and start a family, there probably would have been at least one of them who would have been happy to accommodate him.
“Lisa?” he called from the other side of the door. “Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
“No. I’m fine.” She pulled on the knob but nothing happened. She looked to see if she’d locked it, but the old-fashioned door had only a slightly rusted bolt. She tried the knob again but the door wouldn’t budge.
“I think it’s stuck,” Ben said in an apologetic tone. “Let me try.”
The knob twisted and she heard a thump and a grunting sound. She stepped back hastily, but not fast enough. The door flew open and Ben shot through, slamming her against the edge of the sink, knocking the breath out of her in a whoosh.
Ben made a grab for her, his arms going around her shoulders to keep her on her feet as he said, “Sorry! Are you okay?” He held on to her as he looked her up and down.
“Yeh...eh...hess,” she wheezed, fighting for her breath. She managed to loosen one arm and surreptitiously rub her hip where she knew she would have a bruise.
He took the hint and stepped back, his worried gaze still on her. “Sorry about that door. Every single one in the place sticks, but I guess that one’s the worst. I’ve never closed it before.”
“What?”
He shrugged. “I’m here alone. No need to shut the bathroom door.”
“Oh.” She lived alone, too, but always closed the door to the bathroom. In fact, she closed her bedroom door every night, too. She paused, considering it. Growing up, those were the only two doors in the house that would close because everywhere else was so stuffed with her hoarder grandparents’ things. She frowned at Ben.
“Come on,” he said, ushering her into the hallway. “Let me get you something to drink. You want some coffee?” He looked around helplessly. “Or tea?”
“No thanks. No caffeine.”
As if he couldn’t help himself, he glanced down at her belly and then up. “Oh, of course. Um, I’ve got soft drinks. Lemon-lime soda, maybe?” Suddenly his worried expression cleared. “And crackers! I’ve got some saltine crackers.”
Before she could respond, he helped her back to her chair and strode into the kitchen. As he rustled around, she twisted in her chair and rubbed her hip again. She could ask for an ice pack but doubted that he had one. A dripping bag of ice cubes wouldn’t do her wool slacks any good, although she wasn’t sure why she was worried. Her waistline would soon expand so much that she wouldn’t be able to wear this beautifully tailored outfit, anyway.
A few minutes later he returned with a glass and a bowl of saltine crackers. She considered turning down the snack, but her lurching stomach told her she’d better not.
Since there was no table on which to set anything, she placed the bowl in her lap and held the soft drink in one hand. As she nibbled and sipped, Ben roamed the room and turned up the thermostat. The old-fashioned wall heater rattled and groaned to life and soon had the room at a stifling temperature.
With a sound of annoyance, he turned it off once more. “I’ve got to do something about that.”
After an awkward silence had stretched far too long, Lisa set her empty glass on the floor, knowing any condensation from the glass wouldn’t harm the already-warped boards.
Ben finally sat opposite her and cleared his throat. “I guess we should talk about...financial arrangements...for the...”
“Baby. It’s called a baby.”
“Yeah, yeah, of course. You’ll