Just Destiny (3 page)

His obvious reluctance kept her from blurting the truth. Jenny kept her eyes on the road, afraid to look at him. Afraid of the anger and betrayal she might find in his face. Her grip tightened around the steering wheel until the tendons in her hand rose up and fanned out in four taut lines.

“I…yeah. You’re a great dad to Alex and Ted, but I missed out on sharing those times with you. And being divorced, even you missed a lot.” She paused and snuck a sideways look at him. “What do you think?”

Gabe sat in the seat with his eyes closed so long she feared he’d gone to sleep. Only a rhythmic clenching of his jaw betrayed his feelings. Darn, this hadn’t been the right time to bring it up.

“Gabe?” she ventured softly.

“I’ll think about it.”

* * *

As if he could think of anything else—and he’d tried. Over the next two days, Gabe tried hard to let the fall country beauty distract him from Jenny’s proposal. She didn’t press the issue, which in itself made him nervous. Her continued silence indicated how serious she was about wanting this baby.

When Jenny wasn’t interviewing the proprietors of the Saugatuck Inn for her article or typing up notes, they took long walks on the beach or in the woods. Hand in hand, they shuffled through the blaze of autumn colors littering the ground, absorbing the earthy scent of dirt mixed with the unmistakable smoky smell of burning leaves.

Fond memories of a radiant Jenny raking the leaves in their yard back home were intruded upon when the images suddenly contained a bundled, runny-nosed toddler waddling across the lawn. Trying to dismiss the picture, Gabe spent hours staring at his suspense novel until the words blurred before him and he read the same page at least five times, but even Harlan Coben couldn’t compete with Jenny’s bombshell.

Damn. She wanted a baby.

A part of him was tempted to experience parenthood again with her. The thought of a tiny newborn nursing at her breast stirred something deep and primitive within him. But a larger part, the selfish part, wanted another child like he wanted a Drano enema.

He’d gone through the long, sleepless nights caring for his sick children. He’d celebrated their freedom from diapers, each lost tooth, and mastery of riding two-wheel bikes without training wheels. He’d sympathized at the funerals of six goldfish, three hamsters, and one cat. He’d spent years juggling his schedule to attend soccer, little league games, and tennis matches, feeling guilty when his job made him miss a crucial birthday or school event. Though rewarding, parenthood was difficult, time-consuming, and sometimes heartbreaking. And long—definitely long.

Gabe washed a hand over his face. Marriage was about compromise and sacrifice. But in this situation, having a baby was a hell of a sacrifice for him. He did not want to start all over again at forty-three. Then again, he supposed never experiencing pregnancy and parenthood from conception was a hell of a sacrifice for her.

The morning of their last day of vacation, Gabe waited out front by their bikes, admiring his wife as Jenny skipped down the wide porch steps. She’d pulled her brown hair back in a ponytail and covered her worn jeans with his blue and gold striped rugby shirt that fell mid-thigh on her. Smiling widely, she looked at him with those guileless, translucent blue eyes. Lord she was beautiful. A shiny silver helmet dangled from her finger.

“Glad to see you’ve come prepared,” he said, nodding at the helmet.

“It’s for you. Your other anniversary present. It’s about time you retire that old, hot relic.” She stretched out her hand to take his black helmet.

“That’s sweet of you, but I like this one.”

“Look at all these ventilation channels to keep you cool.” She flipped it over to show him the inside. “And quick-drying padding made with some fancy material to inhibit nasty smelling bacteria. Try it on.” She held the helmet out to him. “I had to go to four stores to find this helmet in a color you wouldn’t hate.”

He took it from her and plopped it on his head. Stiff, but it fit. Hand halfway to his chinstrap, he looked at her. “What about you? What’re you going to wear?”

“Me?” Not riding often, she obviously hadn’t thought about herself. “I’ll wear your old one.”

“Take this one.” He thrust the new helmet at her. A sly look crossed his face before he contrived to look innocent. “A really considerate wife would break it in for me.”

Jenny snatched the new helmet. “When we get home, you are
going
to wear this one.” She glared at him while tugging the chinstraps until it fit snugly, grumbling, “I’m gonna burn that ugly old thing.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Although your head’s a bit big, you’ll break it in just fine for me.”

Jenny gave him the evil eye and pushed her bike toward the deserted road.

Peddling down the black top, they soon reached a designated trail that wound between large oak trees, through a meadow, and around a little pond. The few remaining dandelions relinquished their fuzz to loft above decaying fields of wildflowers and thistle patches, floating lazily about in the cool morning air. Straggling songbirds foraged for one last meal before heading south for the winter.

Gabe breathed in deeply, loving the earthy scent of the lingering summer warmth melding with the inevitable fall decay. Stealing a glance at Jenny, he read the contentment in her expression. Regret weighed heavily on his soul. What he had to do would shatter nature’s soothing influence as surely as a rock shatters a windshield. He fervently hoped it wouldn’t destroy anything more important—like her heart. Or their marriage.

Spotting a huge log that looked like the perfect resting place, Gabe pulled over and dismounted. Jenny pulled up behind him, straddling her bike. “Tired already, Harrison? This vacation was supposed to rejuvenate you.”

“I’m rejuvenated.” He snagged her shirt and pulled her close. With a gentle hand at her jaw, Gabe tilted her head up so he could memorize every curve, every nuance of her heart-shaped face before settling on her intelligent eyes. Good Lord, she was beautiful. She was energy, and laughter, and love; everything he had ever wanted. Jenny filled his heart with warmth and light.

“I love you.”

A smile curved her lips and lit her eyes. “I love you, too.”

Gabe fumbled with the hem of her shirt until he could slip his hand beneath, where he caressed the warm silkiness of her waist. He loved her soft skin—could spend hours stroking it, like rubbing a good-luck charm. His hand splayed, spanning her small back, pulling her close.

Lowering his head, Gabe feathered light kisses over her lips. Jenny’s arms snaked around his neck, pressing him closer until he couldn’t tell her heartbeat from his. With a little sigh, she toyed with the hair at the base of his neck, sending shafts of delight down his spine and heat pooling in his groin.

Gabe kissed his wife long and deeply. Remorse intensifying his passion, he molded Jenny’s hips to his, hardly feeling the cold metal of her bike gouging his thighs. Eyes shut, he devoured her lips, as if his love alone could bend her will to his. A tremor moved through him as he thought about how much of his soul this woman owned. She was his heart. His life. He didn’t want to share her—he didn’t want to lose her.

Jenny moaned in appreciation. Her bike crashed to the ground.

Chest heaving, Gabe eased away from her. “That’s no way to treat an expensive bike.”

She looked at him from beneath passion-drooping eyelids and licked her lips. “Then you shouldn’t seduce me with a kiss like that.”

“That good, eh?” He stood a little taller.

She stepped over the bike, feigning nonchalance. “Not bad—for an old married man.”

Gabe took Jenny’s hand, so small and delicate, so trustingly curled around his own fingers, and guided her to the large log. Straddling the trunk, he pulled her down to face him. “Jenny. About the baby—”

“You don’t want to,” she broke in.

He looked up. The disappointment deep in her eyes weighed on his chest, crushing his heart and conscience. “I love you and I understand your wanting a baby. I have no doubt you’d make a wonderful mother.” He paused and looked out over the lake. “It’s me. I’m a selfish bastard. I can’t help thinking of all the negatives. I’d be in my sixties by the time this child graduated college.”

“Sixty’s not all that old.”

“Not from our perspective, but would our son or daughter think it was? And we’d probably have to have two kids, because it wouldn’t be fair to only have one so much younger than Ted and Alex. And then Ted and Alex would be old enough to be our children’s aunt and uncle.”

“They adjusted to your divorce and to our marrying. They’d get used to having younger siblings.”

Probably. His kids were remarkably resilient and independent. That wasn’t a very solid argument. He stared at her hard, trying to make her determine if this was really a true desire and need, or just a fleeting sentimental idea.

“Is this is what you
really
want? Are you sure this isn’t like wanting us to become foster parents?” Low blow. It was unfair to throw that incident up in her face, yet he had to know.

“This is different. I know it’s not fair to change my mind. But I ache to feel your baby growing inside me.” She cupped her hands over her lower abdomen. “I want to create a new life with you—a legacy of our love.”

He didn’t know what to say. “You could’ve just stopped taking birth control pills.”

Jenny frowned and leaned back. “I don’t want it that way.”

He’d never believe her now. How could she tell Gabe she was already pregnant? It would devastate him. He’d feel betrayed—or tricked. Gabe would never believe it’d been an accident. Even though Jenny took the pill religiously, she was two weeks late. Her boobs were fuller and painful. She felt pregnant.

“I could never be happy if you didn’t want the baby too.”

He took her hands in his. “How about this…we stop using any birth control for six months and see what happens? We’ll let fate decide it. No drugs, no operations, no assisted measures,” he warned. “And if you get pregnant, we have a baby. If you don’t, you don’t. We’re on our own. What do you think?”

Sounded reasonable given the fact that she was already pregnant, but on principal alone, Jenny wasn’t impressed. She wanted him to want this baby. She wanted enthusiasm, not a compromise. “That’s not exactly fair. What if I have some medical problem?”

Gabe sighed loudly. “It’s a compromise, Jen.”

“Six whole months?” She pulled her hands away. He didn’t want a baby. Didn’t want their baby.

He threw his arms wide. “Well, what do you want? A year? Two? How long do you want, Jenny? Enough time to have three kids?
That’s
really fair.” He planted a hand on his waist and cocked his head. “That’s sure leaving it to destiny.”

“Six months is stingy.”

He looked away and swallowed hard. “A year?”

He spoke as if the two words were dragged from him. Jenny stood and turned her back on him in one fluid movement. “Forget it.”

He vaulted to his feet. “What? I’m trying to compromise here.”

She whirled to confront him as angry tears flooded her eyes. “I don’t
want
to compromise,” she shouted. “If you don’t want it, just forget it.”

This was a disaster. Gabe didn’t want their baby and he’d never believe she hadn’t gotten pregnant on purpose. She had to get away.

Gabe took a startled step backward, away from the force of her anger and disappointment. His mouth dropped open as she jumped on her bike and wobbled toward the path.

“Jen, wait. Come back. We can work this out.”

They could work it out? That was just man-speak for “I can talk you out of it.” Infuriated at his attitude, she headed for the trail.

On the path, Jenny quickly gathered momentum. She swiped at the tears blinding her and swerved sideways, narrowly missing a low-hanging branch in her determination to put some distance between them. She heard Gabe mount his bike and race after her, but that only served to panic her.

As they broke out of the stand of trees and darted into the street, he pulled alongside. “Jen, stop. Let’s talk.”

Peddling furiously, she surged ahead. He moved alongside her. “Jenny, I’m sorry. Pull over. We can have the baby.”

God, when he found out she was pregnant he’d hate her. She had to get away.

Without sparing him as much as a glance, Jenny burst ahead, swinging toward the center of the street to circumvent a long stick blocking the edge of the road. Gabe dropped behind her and rounded the stick.

“Hey. Watch out!” Gabe yelled.

In a mighty surge, he sprang forward and shoved Jenny sideways. Eyes wide, unable to believe that he’d deliberately pushed her, she tumbled off her bike.

“Ugh.” The breath shot out of Jenny as she hit the ground hard. She skidded across the stinging coarse gravel and rolled down the embankment. Musty leaves crackled loudly in her ears and sticks scratched her face, but she still heard the unmistakable squeal of tires. Bang! She crashed into a large bush. Stunned, Jenny lay motionless for a moment, catching her breath and waiting for the sky, clouds, and trees to stop whirling around so she could focus.

“Oh, my God!” a voice said.

Jenny sat up, tentatively testing her muscles while looking around. Her hand went to her smarting cheek, then pulled away; blood smeared her finger tips. She looked up to where her bicycle teetered on the edge of the hill, the wheels spinning madly.

“Gabe?” He’d shoved her off her bike. Why would he do that? Where was he?

“Gabe?” she called louder this time, amplifying the pounding in her head. Jenny pushed to her feet. She steadied herself on a nearby tree trunk and stumbled toward the sound of the frantic voice up the hill. Higher on the slope to her right, Gabe’s old, black helmet rested at the base of a narrow tree trunk; it lay open, empty, the ends frayed where the chinstrap had snapped in two.

“Ga-be!” Jenny scrambled up the steep slope, ignoring the stinging scratches on her palms. Topping the embankment, the pungent smell of burned rubber assaulted her nose. A large rumbling SUV idled nearby. The gleaming black hood was dented and the windshield shattered into a spider web of millions of glass pieces. Gabe’s mangled bike lay beneath it. A young man shouted into a cell phone as he rushed over to her.