She batted her eyelashes. Actually batted them. Incredible. Then she purred, “Uh-huh. You did tell me it was your favorite.”
“Wow,” Will remarked dryly. “And you remembered. Imagine that.”
She extended the large, rectangular container toward him. “Just heat it up at three hundred and seventy-five degrees for forty-five minutes, and it will be ready.” She smiled again, more suggestively this time. “There’s plenty there for two, you know.”
Will nodded. “Great. You’ve got me covered for tonight and tomorrow night both. Thanks, Abigail. You’re swell.”
He tried not to choke on that last part, and hoped his dubious gratitude was convincing. He must have been at least marginally successful, because although she pouted at his rejection of her more-than-obvious offer, she quickly recovered and smiled again.
“Have you heard the latest news?” she asked.
Oh, boy. Gossip. Gee, Will just lived for that. “Um, no, Abigail, can’t say that I have.” He turned quickly toward the office with the pretext of taking the casserole in there, hoping the sight of his back would let her know just how anxious he was to hear whatever choice item she might have—namely, not anxious at all.
But Abigail, as usual, didn’t take the hint. “It’s about Tess Monahan,” she said, nearly breathless with excitement.
Will spun around, his gaze inevitably drawn to the trouser-clad legs sticking out from beneath the ’Vette. The trouser-clad legs that belonged to Tess Monahan’s oldest brother. The trouser-clad legs that Abigail obviously hadn’t seen.
“Uh, Abigail?” Will began, hoping to cut her off.
Although he didn’t for a moment think there could be anything shocking or controversial about Tess—hey, after all, it was Tess—he didn’t think it prudent for Abigail to be gossiping about her in front of one of her brothers. It just wasn’t polite. And Finn, like all of his brothers, had just a bit of a quick temper, not to mention a protective streak a mile wide, when it came to his kid sister. None of the Monahan boys would much appreciate Tess’s being talked about. Even if the talk was harmless. Which Will was sure this would be.
Because, hey, after all…it was Tess.
He opened his mouth to announce Finn’s presence, but Abigail, evidently much too excited to be put off any longer, blurted out her big news before he had the chance. And boy, oh, boy, what news it was.
“Tess Monahan has been knocked up!” she cried almost gleefully.
“What?!”
Will was surprised to discover that the outraged exclamation erupted not from the man beneath the ’Vette, but from his own mouth. And as if that weren’t bad enough, to punctuate his utter and complete shock, he dropped the casserole—tuna, noodle and surprise—onto the cement floor with a resounding crash.
Abigail, too, was taken aback by his response—literally. She took one giant step backward, as if she feared Will was going to bolt right over her on his way to—
To do what? he wondered. Right this egregious wrong? Beat the hell out of whoever was responsible for Tess’s condition? Break the jaw of whoever had started this stupid rumor in the first place? Even if it were true, what the hell business was it of his if Tess Monahan had gotten herself—
Knocked up?
Tess?
No way.
He spared a quick glance at Finn’s legs, which were still sticking out from under the car and, surprisingly, weren’t quivering with rage. Either he hadn’t heard Abigail’s announcement—which Will found highly unlikely—or else he was waiting to hear the rest…before he went out and thrashed the son of a bitch responsible for Tess’s predicament.
“No way,” Will said, turning back to the messenger, voicing his thoughts out loud. Though whether that was for Finn’s benefit, for Tess’s benefit or for his own benefit, he honestly wasn’t sure. “You must have gotten your wires crossed somewhere, Abigail. Tess Monahan isn’t that kind of girl.”
In response Abigail chuckled, and Will couldn’t help but think that there was something almost triumphant in the sound. “She is now,” Abigail said. “I saw her myself this morning at the teachers’ brunch. She was sick as a dog.”
Will shook his head in denial. “Tess has never been sick a day in her life.”
“I know. That’s what I said. The only thing that could make her this sick is morning sickness. Sister Angelina saw her barfing in the girls’ rest room, too.”
Will shrugged it off. “Oh, big deal. So Tess has the flu.” But even he had trouble believing it. “That doesn’t mean she’s pregnant.”
“There’s more,” Abigail said.
Yeah, Will would just bet there was. “Like what?”
Abigail took a few steps closer—carefully avoiding the spilled casserole—as if wanting to pull him physically into her conspiracy. “Well, for instance, about two months ago, Dolores Snarker was up in Bloomington, and she saw Tess at a Motel Six.”
Will somehow refrained from rolling his eyes. “So? A lot of people stay at motels, Abigail. And believe it or not, most of them don’t get pregnant.”
“Yeah, but Dolores saw Tess go into her room one night with a man.”
This Will found hard to believe. He also found it hard to digest, because his stomach pitched at hearing the revelation. But even if it was true that Tess had been with a man—Oh, God—it didn’t mean she was pregnant. It made him feel a little sick—all right, it made him feel a lot sick—but it didn’t mean Tess was pregnant. Probably. Then again, she was pretty naive, he reminded himself. She might not take the proper precautions if she found herself in that kind of situation. She was so trusting.
“That’s not proof of anything, Abigail,” he said, in spite of his misgivings.
But Abigail ignored his objection. “And,” she continued, “my aunt who works for Dr. Schwartz, the OB-GYN? She said Tess had an appointment last month.”
Will felt himself blushing at the mention of a…of a…of one of those…doctors…but, again, it wasn’t conclusive proof of anything. “It’s my understanding,” he said, “that women go see the…the…” He growled under his breath. “That women have appointments like that every year.”
“Ah, but it was Tess’s second visit in two months,” Abigail told him.
“Yeah, but still…” Will objected. Though not quite as strenuously as before.
“And,” Abigail continued happily, “Tess was in Bonnie’s Baby Boutique a couple of weeks ago, and Bonnie herself said Tess bought almost a hundred dollars worth of baby clothes and stuff.”
“It was probably a gift,” Will pointed out, though it was unlikely. Nobody in Marigold who was close to Tess was pregnant.
“That’s some gift,” Abigail replied dubiously.
“Tess is a generous person,” Will countered.
But his objections now were halfhearted, at best. There sure did seem to be an awful lot of evidence against Tess. And although gossiping was a pretty stable pastime in Marigold, hardly anyone could dispute that what went around almost always turned out to be true. Marigoldians might be rumormongers, but they were generally pretty good about keeping their facts straight. Even Will, who avoided the rumor mill, knew that.
Abigail stepped back again. “Well, nuns don’t lie,” she said, “and I heard about Tess’s condition from both Sister Mary Joseph and Sister Margarite. She’s pregnant, Will. And all of us are just dying to know who the father is. Susan Gibbs said she heard Tess say herself