Tangled Thoughts (14 page)

“Yes, I'll be joining you. If you don't mind,” she added.

“Of course not.”

“Oh, good!” She cleared her throat, a feminine sound that only added to her sense of perpetual youth. I wondered if she wasn't slightly nervous. I wondered, too, if my uncle had chosen this place just for her, with its walls covered in paintings. The dark tones of the art deco room were made to flatter her.

I began to wonder if their relationship was more than friendly. Was Tessa the woman he'd met at the coffee shop? She was certainly beautiful. And she did have ties to Arizona. Her parents and brother still lived there.

“Can I get you something? A beer?” Tessa asked, sipping her own glass of something clear with lime. It seemed out of place for her. She drank red wine, or dark things with more passion than coolness.

I grinned. “Thank you, but the bar would probably rather I didn't. Water will be fine.” She tilted her head and I said, “It's still a couple months until I'm old enough. Legally.”

She laughed. “I'm sorry. I forget how young you still are!”

“It's fine. I don't really drink anyway.”

“No,” she said. “I suppose you wouldn't.” She looked at me like she saw deeper into my thoughts than I wanted her to. “You look, well, you look great, Carter.” She glanced at her drink, stirring it idly, before she looked back up at me. “I hope it's okay for me to say that.

I…I've missed you, but I thought it best if I kept my distance for a while. I hope you understand.”

I nodded, grateful for the distraction of the bartender. I sipped my water to delay having to say anything else. I did understand. I did not want to talk about it. Tessa made a sound in the back of her throat, something frighteningly close to pity, and patted my hand before changing the subject.

“Martin is on his way too.” I'd barely had the chance to get to know Martin Schearer before graduation and Lainey had… But I'd liked him—everyone did—and he was deeply involved in the Astor Arts charity now. It wasn't unusual for him to dine with Uncle Dan, or probably both him and Tessa. Now I was wondering why I was here. My sense that this night was
something
, something serious, began to grow.

“Tess!” Uncle Dan's voice came from behind me and Tessa's face lit up. I glanced over my shoulder to see my uncle weaving his way to the bar, Manny following a discreet distance behind. It was a particular skill of Manny's that he could blend so seamlessly into a crowd, despite his watchful eyes and size forty-six jacket that covered more than one weapon. “And good, I see you've collected my nephew.”

He kissed Tessa on the cheek in greeting. I glanced around to see if anyone else noticed. If someone was watching, would they see how she looked at him? Observe how his hand lingered on her back?

Maybe my idea had merit.

Uncle Dan clapped one hand on my shoulder. “Son, I hope you don't mind, but Tessa and Martin will be joining us as well.”

“No, sir. Not at all. Tessa even offered to get me a drink. So I'm starting to wonder what you have to tell me.”

When Daniel Astor laughed, people noticed. People noticed now. He laughed like someone whose life was perfectly in control, because it was. I hadn't laughed like that since I was thirteen years old and I envied it. Next to him, Tessa was grinning. “Then we shouldn't keep you in suspense. Let's sit down.” He caught the eye of the hostess, who lingered just outside Manny's shadow, before meeting my own. “I hope you're going to like it.”

W
E
WERE
SEATED
in another room of the restaurant, one I imagined was called The Federal Room. The walls were still covered in art, but it was brighter and more Americana. Except for the huge fireplace warming my back and reminding me of home, I liked the dark bar better. In this room it would be harder to keep lying to myself that this was fine.

Martin arrived a few minutes later, as our waiter poured the bottle of wine Uncle Dan had ordered ahead. It was expensive. Extravagant, actually. I'd gotten a glance at the wine list when I returned it to the hostess. This was a celebration wine.

The server filled my glass without asking, but Tessa gave a slight shake of her head when he moved to hers. He skipped on to Martin's glass without a pause, but Martin was not looking at him or the wine. He was staring at Tessa in a way that made me stare too.

“Tess?” he said. “You're not having any?” There was something in his voice, something barely contained.

“No, Martin, I'm not,” she answered. That was all she said, but she was smiling, darting glances at my uncle, and her eyes filled with tears again. Martin made this noise, a shocked-gasp-hiccup, and clapped his
hands together like her not-drinking a glass of wine was the greatest thing in the world. He, too, seemed ready to cry.

And just like that, it hit me: she's
pregnant
.

Holy fucking shit.

I was standing, I realized, looking back and forth between Tessa and my uncle. But everyone else was standing too, Martin hugging Tess, saying words like
congratulations
and
dreamed of this
and
perfect, just perfect
.

Was this perfect? I wasn't sure.

Uncle Dan was smiling, but he was watching me with a guarded expression. He put a hand on my shoulder and I became very aware of the fact that I hadn't said anything yet.

I cleared my throat and held out my hand. “Congratulations, sir.” I sounded so formal, like we were still in the office, in senator and intern mode.

He grasped my hand and pulled me toward him, throwing his arm around my shoulder like he did so often when I was younger. He was barely taller than me now, and my shoulders were broader than his, but next to him, I still felt small.

“Surprise,” he said. “That wasn't exactly how we wanted this to go. I should have anticipated the wine better.”

“It's been a while since you had to think about those kind of logistics.”

He chuckled. “Sixteen years. How do you feel about the news?”

“Surprised,” I admitted.

“Pleased?”

“Of course,” I said automatically, and then repeated it, deciding it was true. “Yeah, of course.” He nodded when our eyes met.

“I'm glad,” Uncle said. “And relieved. I know this might be a bit awkward for you.”

Rather than lie, I said, “The media's going to go crazy, you know.
I
didn't even know you were…” I gestured to Tessa. “Though I probably should have suspected.”

He smiled and steered me back toward my chair. “We weren't, not exactly. Let's sit down and explain.”

T
HE
MEDIA
WAS
going to go crazy. They would fucking love this. I'd almost have suspected Anton Williams, Uncle Dan's campaign manager, of orchestrating the whole thing, but Tessa would never have agreed to that. I tried to keep my face neutral while she talked about asking my uncle to father her baby—through in vitro fertilization.

“Needless to say, I was surprised—and immensely flattered,” Uncle Dan said.

“I was already in the process,” Tessa explained. “Actually, I'd prepared for it some years ago, but decided to wait. And I kept waiting, thinking, I don't know, maybe I wouldn't need it.”

“You're forever romantic, Tess,” Martin said and she chuckled.

“I do like surprises, and I guess Dan was one.” They beamed at each other and I had to look at my hands. “But my doctor told me I'd waited long enough—much more and I'd be practically fifty years old with a
toddler
and my first baby would be graduated from
college
.”

There it was. She didn't say her name, but we'd been edging around her all night. I was prepared for it, though.
Not
reacting outwardly to mention of Lainey Young was a skill I practiced actively. Tessa darted a glance in my direction but seemed encouraged by my non-reaction. I may have even smiled. Below the table, my hands gripped each other to keep from rubbing the achy spot in my chest.

“So, I just knew if anyone, it would be Dan. He reminded me so much of—” She paused. “Well, let's just say he was the first man I'd met in a long time who made me think of the possibility.”

Uncle Dan reminded Tessa so much of
whom
? I wondered. I knew many things about Tessa, like how she used to date a banker from California who'd fly all over the world to see her, but it certainly wasn't him.

“Of course he did, Tess. We all knew it was fate.” Martin toasted to each of them—Tessa, Uncle Dan, and fate, along with the as-yet-undetermined baby. Tessa's club soda and lime made an off-note when it clunked our wine glasses and she laughed.

Fate. Fuck fate. Lainey had been right when she said it felt more like chaos. I understood now.

“When?” I asked. It was the first time I'd spoken since we sat back down. The waiter had just cleared our salad plates.

“We're due the end of May,” Tessa said, rubbing her still-flat stomach. Belly? “Almost twelve weeks now. I'm feeling great, just a little tired, and, well, morning sickness does
not
occur only in the
morning
.” She shook her club soda and laughed again, while my uncle rubbed her back. “That has to be the biggest lie about pregnancy ever told.”

I nodded. “I meant: when did you ask him?”

“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed and she couldn't meet my eyes, so I knew. After a breath, she said, “It was right before Lainey's”—she dragged the L out when she said her name, as if her tongue hesitated to say it to me—“graduation. And the announcement. So much was happening then…” She stopped and took a gulp of her drink.

“It was a very busy time,” Uncle Dan concurred.

No kidding. “And when did things…change?” I said, looking between the two them, and the way Uncle's hand covered Tessa's. They hadn't told the whole story yet, how they went from partners in an arrangement to having a child
together
.

Tessa blushed, and it was the only time I thought she and Lainey looked like mother and daughter. She cleared her throat. “After the procedure, when my doctors told me it was official, I called Dan to let
him know. He asked me to dinner, and then…” She smiled, shrugging her tiny shoulders. “We thought it best if we didn't make a big deal out of it.”

I swallowed hard not to laugh, but Martin actually chuckled. This was most definitely a big deal. In fact, it was nothing short of insane.

“We haven't told
anyone
,” she was saying. “Except my parents, last weekend.”

“Anyone?” I said.

Tessa glanced at my uncle. “We're going to Boston this weekend.” So Lainey didn't even know yet.

“So you understand we'd appreciate if we kept this news between us,” Uncle Dan said in his gentle command voice, the one that meant
of course
we would.

“I'm always discreet,” I reminded him, at the same time Martin nodded vigorous assent. He wasn't Sententia, but he wasn't stupid either. This was about more than telling the families. Uncle Dan was running for
president
, for God's sake.

“Carter—” Tessa started. Stopped. Those big brown eyes of hers were imploring me, and I was afraid she might cry again. I was gripping my wine glass too hard, so I set it down. “You're not upset, are you?”

“Of course not.”

“It's just—” She did cry. Big tears that plopped from her eyes even as she grinned and wiped them away.

“Tess,” my uncle said. It was his most private tone of voice, the one I sometimes thought was reserved for me.

“I'm sorry!” She swiped more tears and gulped her fizzy water, setting it down with a heavy thud that made her grimace. “Damn these hormones. Carter, I am sorry.”

“It's okay,” I said, because what else could I say?

“No. Ack.” She fanned her eyes with her hand and took a familiar deep yoga breath. “This isn't going at all how I wanted it to.”

Did anything, ever? I considered inviting her to join my club. I'd been president for nearly twenty-one years. Instead, I said, “It really is okay. It's a surprise, but”—I looked at my uncle—“you know I can't be anything but happy for you.”

“Thank you,” he said.

Tessa echoed him, adding, “I just hope you understand. We didn't go into this planning to keep secrets from you, and, well, I wonder if I shouldn't have asked for your blessing.”

“I'm not sure it works that way.”

“Maybe it should.”

“I think what Tessa is saying, son,” Uncle Dan interjected, “is we'd like you to be a big part of the baby's life. We'd like your blessing, too, albeit we're asking a tad late.”

I grabbed my wine and lifted it. The firelight behind me winked off the glass, throwing warm red shadows across the table.

Even I thought I sounded perfectly genuine when I said: “To fate and late blessings—and healthy babies,” and we all clinked glasses one more time.

Lainey

Y
ou know you're going to regret sitting like that someday, right? You're so tall, it will probably be worse for you.”

I sat up straight and found Natalie watching me from our doorway. “Thanks for the reminder,” I said.
Again
, I thought and had to clamp my mouth shut to keep from snapping at her.

I'd been sitting cross-legged on my bed and leaning over my laptop, a position I adopted too often if Nat's constant reminders were any indication. She was right, of course—I
shouldn't
sit like that. She was also, however, annoying. I slipped on my headphones and pretended like I was alone again.

College so far had been so many things: enlightening, liberating, fun, frightening, and, also, disappointing. I hated thinking that about my roommates, but it was the truth. Without Amy, I was afraid I might actually be lonely, and that made me a little sad.