It Happened One Night (19 page)

Who was she kidding?

Sex with Eli wouldn’t be terrible. When he’d wrapped his arms around her the other day, her whole body came alive in ways
that it never had with any other man but him. In all the years since they’d made love, she’d never felt as overtaken and devastated
by passion as she’d been with him. If a man flirted with her, drew her out, then she could often convince her body to enjoy
the act of making love. But with Eli, she hadn’t seen it coming. One minute, they were strictly friends, and the next… the
next…

They’d tried going down that road before, and it had almost ruined the most meaningful and lasting relationship she’d ever
had. If she allowed herself to sleep with him once more and only once more, it wouldn’t be a compromise. It would be devastation.
Friendship
was what worked for them. Friendship could unite two people on two very different paths. Lust… that was fleeting. Dangerous.
One night could ruin ten years of their lives.

A heron flew overhead, its great wings dark against the filmy remnants of the sunset. She had to get back. And when she did,
she had to start dealing with things. With Karin, she needed to bring her secrets out into the clear. Once and for all. And
with Eli, she had to talk to him. Really talk to him.

He’d been away on a trip for over a week—sent by the university to procure more meteorite samples for their collection—but
when he returned she needed to set down some rules. He wouldn’t push the issue. He never did.

When truth is known, it should be spoken.
She gave a long, deep pull on the oars, and then dragged the tips of her fingers on the surface of the water, watching the
trail her fingers left behind.

September 3

Eli stood before his intro to astronomy class, and he could only hope that his chronically tired students wouldn’t notice
their professor’s exhaustion. He’d been away on an expedition and had taken a red-eye back to Burlington last night in order
to make his class—his first of the year, and the only course he was scheduled to teach for the fall. He always loved the first
class because it set the stage for all the mysteries yet to come. Today he was introducing his students to dark matter, which
made up more than 99 percent of the mass of the universe but constantly eluded scientists’ grasp.

Unfortunately, today the lecture felt a little rote. Thoughts of Lana consumed him. Before he’d left, she’d bailed on the
date they were supposed to have at the planetarium, and he’d sat home by himself, frustration tying him up in knots. He worried
that she was staying away because she’d sensed the change in him. Maybe he should have hidden it better. Or maybe he should
have sprung it on her all at once—just taken her face in his hands and kissed her without preamble—so that she couldn’t talk
herself out of her own feelings before she even had them.

Whatever method he chose, there was a very real risk that he might ruin their relationship. But there was no way he would
ever be happy with her if she kept him on the sidelines for the rest of his life. He had to do something. But the sophomores
in his class probably knew more about seduction than he did. What they
didn’t
know—couldn’t know—was the force of a yearning that had been building for ten years, the triple-threat of friendship, love,
and desire all rolled into one.

He realized that he’d been talking to his class, but that they hadn’t been listening to what he was saying any more than he
was. He decided to let them go early. Though no one uttered a word, he could feel their collective sigh of relief as they
packed up their bags. Eli shared their sentiment, though he’d never let on.

As the class filed out, Meggie—the same Meggie whom he’d helped get a job at the Wildflower Barn in the spring—made a beeline
for his desk as he packed up his things.

“Eli? I mean, Mr. Ward?”

He tapped the edge of the students’ group papers against his desk. “What’s up?”

“I don’t get this whole dark matter thing.”

“You’re not the only one,” he said, laughing.

She put her hands on her hips. “How do they know it exists if they can’t see it? It makes no sense.”

Eli nodded. He understood where Meggie was coming from. Learning about the universe could be frustrating. He put his bag back
down on his desk and tried to recap, emphasizing that even though dark matter wasn’t visible, the effects of it were.

She shook her head. “Well, I guess if scientists can’t figure out what it is, I sure as hell won’t solve the mystery in Astro
I.” She sighed and heaved her big backpack higher on her shoulders. “You haven’t been by the Barn lately.”

“I was away.” He looked down at his desk so she couldn’t read his face. “How’s Lana?”

“Ron came to see her.”

“Wait. What?”

Meggie smirked. “Secret’s out. We all know Lana’s knocked up. Karin knows too.”

Eli fumbled his messenger bag onto his shoulder, his hands shaky. He hadn’t thought that his efforts to persuade Ron were
successful, given his bruised ribs. But maybe he’d been more persuasive than he thought. Or maybe Ron had a conscience after
all. “What did he say?”

Meggie crossed her arms. “Shouldn’t you be hearing this from Lana?”

Yes
, he thought. “Listen, if you see her…”

“If?”

“Okay,
when
you see her, tell her…”

“What?”

That I’m in love with her. That I want her. That I always have.
“Tell her I’ll stop by soon.”

“Today?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I have a lot of follow-up work to do from the expedition. Funny thing about these grant-giving types. Everything’s got to
be documented three different ways.”

She laughed.

“And… thanks for the heads-up about Ron.”

“How many points do I get on my next paper?”

Eli crossed his arms.

“I’m
kidding
,” she said. But he didn’t think she was.

Eli finished packing up his things. They chatted for another minute or two about nothing special as they walked toward the
parking lot, then parted ways.

He leaned for a moment against the hood of his car and looked at the clouds sailing big and white overhead. The gears of the
universe were turning, the future coming inevitably closer, but it was never what anyone expected. Ron had beaten the crap
out of him, and the result wasn’t a defeat: It was a revelation. Karin had wanted a baby, but Lana was the one who would soon
be a mom. There was no telling what the future held, and there was no way he could control it, but failure was guaranteed
if he didn’t try.

He unlocked the car door. He knew what he would have to do. Once, he and Lana had touched something together that was bigger
than them both. They’d found a space that existed outside fear, worry, and self-doubt. Right or wrong, Eli wouldn’t want to
look back on his life some day and wonder,
What if?
He had to go back to that place again. And Lana would be going with him.

September 4

In the acres behind the Wildflower Barn, the dense woods were mottled with cool patches of shade and bright, warm light. Fall
was moving in, and Karin had wrapped her nylon jacket around herself tightly as she walked along the hard-packed path that
led through the grove. A handful of children followed behind her, some shuffling their feet, others tripping over themselves
in excitement.

“Miss Karin? Miss Karin?” A blond-haired boy in a Lake Monsters hat swatted at her elbow. “Anne said ‘penis flytrap.’”

“That’s what it’s called!” the girl shouted back, her big green eyes panicked as if she knew she was going to get in trouble—as
if she’d been in trouble for saying
penis flytrap
before.

“I think you mean
venus
flytrap, honey. But we don’t have them here.”

“
I
have a penis flytrap,” the boy said. “Lookit! It’s the zipper on my jeans!”

Karin bit back the smile that threatened to give her away. She didn’t want to encourage them—a bunch of eight-year-olds would
be reporting to their parents that they’d seen penis flytraps at the Wildflower Barn.

“Come on, guys. I’ll take you to see the pond.”

She led them farther down the path, among the stalky brown remnants of the summer’s flowers. She pointed out Stumpy the chipmunk
and told them about Amos, a great brown moose that ambled across the property twice a year. Movement behind her caught her
eye and she saw Meggie walking quickly to catch up with them. Her nose ring caught an errant beam of sun and threw it like
a javelin toward Karin’s eye. She wove her way through the pack to Karin’s side.

“Is everything okay?” Karin asked.

“Lana’s inside.”

“And?”

“She wants me to take over for you.”

“Tell her I’ll be in when my tour of duty is over,” Karin said.

“I really don’t mind…”

“I said, I’ll be in soon.”

Meggie nodded and left.

Since the day she’d learned about Lana’s baby, she’d been able to avoid all but the most clipped and mandatory conversations
with her sister, and Lana hadn’t tried to parlay a quick discussion about delivery fees or displays into a heart-to-heart.
But eventually, Karin would have to face her. She supposed she’d given her the silent treatment long enough.

She forced herself to focus on the task at hand. “Come on, kids. Time for the petting garden.”

They broke out in cheers and grumbles, and she led them down the path toward the small greenhouse on the property that held
planted soft moss, bull thistle, teasel, lamb’s ears—plants that begged to be “petted.” She instructed them to touch but not
pluck, and they darted among the wooden tables, squealing and laughing.

Their enthusiasm was vivid and contagious. How wonderful it would be to raise children here, so much better than the place
where Karin and Lana had come of age. But of course, Lana’s child would be picking flowers in these fields long before her
own.

Lana looked toward the door when it opened, and Karin was there, unsmiling. She wore jeans that were faded at the knees and
white sneakers that had turned brown-gray. Her hair was pulled back on top, leaving her kinky amber curls to hang to her shoulders.
Even with her brow creased and glowering, she was a sight for sore eyes.

“Hi, Kari,” Lana said softly.

Karin came to stand before her, but said nothing for a long minute. Her expression was so disapproving that Lana felt like
a child waiting for her sentence to be pronounced. “All right. How far along are you?”

“I’m not sure exactly. About nineteen weeks?”

“You’ve known for four months? Four whole months?”

“No,” Lana said, embarrassed. “More like two.”

Karin regarded her belly with disgust. “You’re tiny for four months. I’m guessing those overalls aren’t maternity?”

Lana shook her head.

“But you
are
in maternity.”

“I don’t know. I haven’t tried.”

“But you don’t fit into your old clothes anymore.”

Lana said nothing. She braced herself for more questions, questions that Karin deserved to ask. She felt like she was before
a jury, being tried for her crime.

“What’s your due date?”

“January thirtieth.”

“January thirtieth,” she repeated.

Lana could almost hear what her sister was thinking:
On January thirtieth, you’ll be a mother, and I won’t.

“It seems so far away,” she said, her voice distant.

Lana sighed. She’d never found a good way to say I’m sorry. The words always seemed like a superficial substitute for some
kind of real reparation, like trying to patch a broken arm with a Band-Aid. She needed some other way to show that she was
sorry. Some other way to confess. “Do you remember how when we were kids you used to have that stuffed cat in the blue dress?”

“Miss Kitty,” Karin said. “I lost her on the bus.”

“No, you didn’t. I accidentally spilled mustard all over her. I buried her behind the old tire swing and I cried the whole
time.”

“And you’re telling me this now…?”

“I figure since we’re getting it all out in the open. Might as well.”

Karin’s sigh was rife with defeat. “You know you drive me crazy?”

“We’re sisters.”

“That’s just it. I can’t
not
forgive you. Even when I don’t want to, I do.”

Lana reached for her hand. “The last thing in the world I ever wanted was to hurt you.”

“I know.” Karin squeezed her fingers. “But I can’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“Two reasons, I guess. I thought you’d be mad at me. But also, I knew you’d be hurt.”

“Or was it that if you didn’t tell me, you could pretend it wasn’t happening?”

“Maybe it was a little of that.”

Karin held out her hand. “Can I…?”

Lana stared at her a moment, not comprehending.

“I mean, do you think I could, you know…?” She gestured to Lana’s belly.

“Oh. Oh, right.” The baby. Karin wanted to touch her belly, to feel the oddly steely fortress of her bump. Lana didn’t blame
her; it was a curious thing, what a woman’s body could do. “Okay. Why not?” She took a step closer, and very hesitantly, Karin
pressed her palm against the slight swell above her belly button.

“Wow,” Karin said.

Lana was quiet, transfixed by her sister’s wonder. The respect—reverence—in her eyes seemed almost sacred. She watched as
Karin bent down until she was nearly even with Lana’s navel.

“Hi there, little one,” she whispered.

Tears sprang instantly to Lana’s eyes, as quickly as a gasped breath. She put her own hand on her belly, her muscles trembling.
She felt the press of both Karin’s hand and her own.

Hello, baby
, she said in the quietest part of her mind.
Hello.

“Have you felt it kick?” Karin dropped her hand and stood back up.

Lana shook her head, blinking back the tears in her eyes.

“You’re nineteen weeks? And no kicking?”

“Is that bad?”

Karin frowned. “If there’s no movement, we need to go to the doctor right away.”