Read Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) Online

Authors: Katie O'Boyle

Tags: #Contemporary, #Romance, #Fiction, #Lakeside Porches, #Series, #Love Stories, #Spa, #Finger Lakes, #Finding The Way, #Psychotherapist, #Widow, #Life Partner, #Family Life, #Officer, #Law Enforcement, #Tompkins Falls, #Ex-Wife, #Betrayal, #Alcoholic Father, #Niece, #Pregnant, #Security System. Join Forces, #Squall, #Painful Truths

Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3) (3 page)

BOOK: Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3)
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“Why wouldn’t she think that?” Deirdre posed.

“Are you suggesting I should do it?” Gwen asked, shocked.

Deirdre raised an eyebrow. “Let’s brainstorm it, Gwen. Because I guarantee you, if it hasn’t occurred to Haley before this, it will while she’s in your care. So, answer your own question.”

“Professionally, I think it’s a terrible idea.” Gwen walked on, faster than before.

“Slow down. I’m forty-four, not thirty-two. Why is it a terrible idea?”

“Because whose baby is it? Let’s say Haley finishes college and finds a nice man. Wouldn’t she want her baby with her? Without a commitment to adoption, she’s not likely to let go, now or later, is she? If she and Rick marry each other eventually, they would want their baby with them. But would I want to let it go after a few years of cooing and creeping and learning to walk and talk? My heart would break, Deirdre. And even if I could find it in me to do that, what kind of family dynamic does that create?”

“Agreed. But flip it around. You want a baby. Here’s a very special one about to be born, and you’ll probably be present at the birth. It will be hard for Haley and, I think, for you, too, to give it up. Raising the baby yourself means you get a child you’re already in love with. No labor pain. Plus no more messy dating, no interfering husband who’s going to leave his underwear on the floor or die on you.”

Gwen swallowed hard. Leave it to Deirdre to tack on the one detail that would open up old wounds. She gave her a jab in return. “Vince leaving his underwear around the house again?”

“Nonsense.” Deirdre put her arm around Gwen’s shoulders and gave a squeeze. “But you see what I mean, don’t you?”

Gwen slowed her steps and checked the time. “Let’s turn back. Yes, I do see. I’m a respectable widow of childbearing age. No one’s going to bat an eye about my raising Haley’s baby or even adopting it. But the emotional fallout? Come on, Deirdre. I’d be insane to take that on.”

“And frankly, I agree. You came from a loving, two-parent family, where you saw commitment and intimacy. You were raised in a stable, stimulating home environment. I think, deep inside, you want that for yourself and your husband and kids. Taking responsibility for a baby right now would seriously complicate your search for a life partner. Or maybe I’m wrong. Did you and Jeb not want kids?”

“We did want kids, but we were too busy building our careers.” She squinted.
Is that really true
? She waved a hand to banish her sudden confusion about the past and simply repeated the well-honed story she’d given to people after Jeb’s death. “It was always, ‘Maybe next year.’ And then the years were up for us.”

Deirdre frowned at the lack of emotion or conviction in Gwen’s tone, but she didn’t stop to question it. “Here’s my perspective, as a fellow psychologist and as your friend and sponsor. Haley’s arrival jolted you into realizing how much you want a family of your own. I think your head is on a little straighter now than it has been the past few months. Keep it that way.”

“Thank you. I will, with a lot of help from my sponsor.” She squeezed Deirdre’s waist.

“And just in case you had any doubt about where I stand, for you to take responsibility for an unplanned pregnancy—when it’s not even your baby—is the wrong thing, for all the reasons we’ve said.”

“So my job with Haley is to keep her moving forward with obstetrical care and with the adoption options.” She stopped. “She does have options, doesn’t she?”

Peter Shaughnessy’s presence in Gwen’s kitchen transformed it from gray to full color. Haley’s faded-pink sweatshirt next to Peter’s unzipped, Syracuse-orange hoodie picked up hues in the paisley placemats.

Gwen watched Peter work through his omelet with an occasional comment for her or smile for Haley. He wasn’t methodical about it, the way she would be. He took a few bites from the center—loaded with asparagus, spinach, mushrooms and cheese—then a couple bites from one end, followed by a forkful of home fries.

At a lull in the conversation, he gave Haley an easy smile and asked her, “So what does your young man think about all this?”

The wheat bagel, dripping with peanut butter, stopped halfway to Haley’s mouth. She looked left and right.

Peter glanced at Gwen, his eyebrows pinched together in puzzlement.

Gwen shrugged. This was new territory for her, too.

“Rick doesn’t know.” Haley set her bagel on the plate and licked a dollop of peanut butter from her thumb.

Peter set down his fork and pressed back with an audible exhale. “None of my business, but if I were Rick I would want to know and would want to support you through this and would feel betrayed if you left me out.”

Haley did not move a muscle, but tears slipped from her eyes. She choked out, “But I can’t.”

Peter’s shoulders bunched and his hands made fists, but he held his emotion in check when he said to Haley, “I am guessing you and Rick love each other. If so, whatever promise or fear is holding you back can’t trump your responsibility to the father of this baby.”

“If I saw him, I would not be able to give up the baby.” Haley’s voice was tremulous. “He would want us to get married, and that would be so unfair to him. He’s worked so hard on his engineering degree. I can’t take that away from him.”

“Haley, if I were Rick I would want the chance to decide that with you.”

Haley’s forehead creased in pain, and her face turned red. “Excuse me.” She slipped off the stool and fled from the kitchen before either of them could reach out.

Gwen held onto the island with both hands to keep from rushing after her. She knew the right thing was to give Haley time alone to wrestle with this new input. Peter was right. Haley and Rick together needed to decide the next steps.

“I apologize,” Peter told her. “I had no business saying any of that.”

“Don’t apologize. She needed to get that out, and she needed to hear what a man thinks. Haley and I both dance around things. It might have taken us days to get to that. And anyway, what do I know about a man’s point of view in a situation like this?”

Peter picked up half of his buttered bagel, tapped it on his plate, and let it drop again. “So, she hadn’t told you. And when I was online last night, working on the report, I noticed her Facebook page went silent more than three months ago. She’s been trying to deal with this by herself too long.”

“I could learn a few things from you,” Gwen said with admiration in her voice.
Deirdre’s right about my being stuck in the last millennium
. “All I know is she was waitressing in Saratoga Springs until last week. I don’t know why she quit. Maybe they didn’t want her belly in the high-class dining room anymore.”

“Or she finally realized she needed help and knew you were the one she could turn to.”

Gwen took a nervous sip of almost-cold coffee. “I’m sure her mother was no help. Ursula is completely self-absorbed. She probably threw Haley out on the street.” She used a piece of bagel to push the rest of her omelet into the center of the plate and rested the bagel on top. “Haley and I didn’t get into the hard questions last night. All I know is she came here by bus with a duffle full of dirty clothes—none of them maternity clothes—and a stash of cash.”

“She said last night she walked here from the bus station.”

“I didn’t even know she was coming.” Tears burned Gwen’s eyes. “I realized this morning, she had left me about six messages from four o’clock on. I should have been here for her.”

“Gwen, you were here for her.” Peter’s voice was gentle. “Your timing was just off a little. And maybe it’s not a bad thing that the police confronted her for breaking in last night. It’s a wake-up call that she’s making some desperate decisions. Bad ones.”

“You’re a wise man, Officer Shaughnessy.” Gwen dabbed at her eyes with her napkin and gave him a grateful smile.

“I have a sister. She made some bad choices at that age, too.”

He drank down his juice and slid off the stool with a fluid motion that rippled the muscles of his torso, under his tight, white T-shirt. A thrill shot through Gwen.

“I need to get that lock changed before I crash. Can you wrap the rest for me, and I’ll enjoy it later?”

“Peter, you’ve been on duty all night. Why don’t you finish breakfast and head home? I can call a locksmith.”

“Not going to happen.” His voice was firm. “I won’t rest until I know you two are safe out here. And, listen, if you’re not going to finish your omelet, I’d like that, too.”

Haley slouched against the frame of the bedroom window. Finger poised over the ‘send’ button, she searched the lake for courage.

She never imagined growing up was more than getting a college degree and a good-paying job. Why didn’t she have a mother who taught her things? One who helped her deal with consequences when she made disastrous mistakes, like this one?

At least she had Gwen. She clung to the thought. Even if Gwen wasn’t anyone’s mom, she was way smarter than most people about how to deal with horrible messes.

She stood tall and braced herself. Rick’s number was lit in the display of her iPhone.
I can’t face him.

Beyond the window, cobalt water sparkled in the late morning sunshine. Close in, by Gwen’s sand beach, a lone swan glided on the smooth surface, teasing the watcher into thinking independence was easy and natural and beautiful to behold.

Haley snorted. “As if.”

She wanted to be kayaking side by side with Rick right now, weaving through the little, round islands in Gwen’s corner of Chestnut Lake. Or hiking along the shoreline, watching for birds and wildflowers—asters and goldenrod and milkweed bursting with silken seed for the wind to carry. She wondered if she and Rick would ever again share hikes like that.

She touched her left forefinger to the windowpane and sketched an invisible swan in the film of dust on the glass. To her eye, the new swan floated next to the lonesome one just beyond the beach.

Peter is right
.
Rick has to know and decide with me
.

She took in a deep, steadying breath then pressed the connect button.

Rick answered the nanosecond her number flashed on the display of his Android. “Are you all right? Where are you?”

Haley’s laugh bubbled up like an intoxicant. “Rick? God, it didn’t even ring, did it?”

“Haley, tell me where you are. Please. Is the baby okay?”

“How do you . . .?” A sob escaped her.

He softened his voice. “Haley, I know because I’ve been searching for you for a couple of weeks since I got back from the Gulf. The project wrapped up early. I’ve been going out of my mind trying to find you.”

He knew she was listening because she punctuated each of his sentences with a moan.

“They told me at the restaurant in the Springs that you quit and went to work at a diner. The diner told me you vanished a few days ago. I won’t even tell you what your mother said. Where are you?”

Haley choked out her answer. “At my Aunt Gwen’s. Rick, I’m so sorry about being pregnant. I didn’t want you to know.”

He pounded his fist against the lab table. “Why the hell not?” he roared.
You’re losing it, Walker
.

He glanced around to see who might have overheard. The tables were empty, but a head appeared at the door to the hall. His major advisor, Professor Singh, stepped into the lab, five minutes early for their session. Rick smacked his forehead and held up his open hand to buy five minutes.

Professor Singh planted both hands on his hips. “Very well, but we will also talk about this complication.”

Rick nodded in surrender.

Professor Singh returned to the hall and shut the door behind him.

“Rick?”

“I’m here.”

“Do you agree?”

“Someone came in, Haley, and I missed what you said. He’s gone now.”

“I said I didn’t want you to know about the baby because it’s my fault and my responsibility.”

“God, Haley.” He sank onto a hard bench and exhaled two weeks of frustration. “Honey, it’s our baby, our responsibility.”

She didn’t argue.

“Are you healthy, Haley? Is the baby okay?”

“I’m doing okay,” she told him. “I need to see a doctor soon, and Gwen will help me find someone around here.”

“You mean you haven’t seen a doctor yet because you’ve been feeling well enough? Until now?” Over the two years he’d known her, Rick had developed the patience to translate Haley’s rambling answers to fit his need for information. She’d come to accept his endless questions, although in the first few months of their dating, she’d complained he was picking on her.

“Yes. Rick, I’m taking really good care of my health. For the baby. That’s why I left the restaurant. I needed my sleep and I needed to get some rest every few hours. The diner was better than working nights at the restaurant, but last week I knew I needed to be with Gwen and see a doctor, too.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t because I was coming back after four months on a research trip, and you needed to disappear until you delivered?”

“That, too,” she admitted.

Anger flared in his chest. “You really weren't going to tell me?”

“I really didn't want you to know how badly I screwed up, and I didn't want to interfere with your plans—your degree and your work. And mostly I needed to see a doctor, to have the baby checked out. And me, too.”

His stomach sank. “What changed? Exactly.”

“My ankles were really swollen, and I know that can be mean there’s a problem. So I told my boss I was sick and needed to go home to see my doctor, and he was cool with that.”

“Your fictitious doctor?” Rick forced a chuckle.

Haley’s answering laugh was quiet and easy. “Yeah. But I’ll find one, for real, today and get an appointment.”

“Yes, you will.” It came out as an order. “And I need to be there with you. We need to talk. About all of this. About your health and your health care and about the baby.”

“Yes and . . .” Another sob.

“Take your time,” he said, his voice gentle. “This is hard for me, too.” He stole a second to log in to the Rensselaer network and Google ‘Gwen Forrester, Psychologist.’ The only useful result was the address of a professional office in Tompkins Falls. It was enough for the map app to show him where he needed to be.

BOOK: Finding The Way Back To Love (Lakeside Porches 3)
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