The Accidental Encore (27 page)

She took her time getting out of the car. He shoved his
hands in his jeans and watched her. She wore wool pants, heeled boots, and
chunky sweater to go with the unreadable look on her face. He’d expected her to
be fuming when she saw him and this…pale and sullen Allie had his stomach
knotted in worry.

“Hey,” he said as she stopped on the walk in front of him.
He towered over her from his perch on her porch.

“Hi.” She just stood there, her bag in her hand, her purse
slung over her shoulder, that damn puzzling look on her face.

“How was the lasagna?” he asked.

She cocked a brow. “Am I why you stayed away?”

“No. I can have Mark’s lasagna whenever I want. Kinda takes
the appeal away.”

She didn’t even crack a smile.

“Listen,” he began. “I need to talk to you. I’d like to
explain.”

She just stared at him without moving. He climbed down the
stairs when it became obvious she’d rather freeze to death than invite him in.
“So explain.”

“Allie, I can’t do this. I wish I could and believe me, if I
could, you’d be the one, but I just can’t.”

“I know you can’t. It hurts like hell, but I know you can’t
and I even understand why.”

What the hell? “You’re not mad? Why does this feel like a
trap?”

“Mostly because you’re the one who spews the cold, hard
truth and you’re not used to having it spewed back at you. I can honestly say,
of all the things that have come out of this relationship we’re in—and
don’t turn white on me, Craig, we are in a relationship—it’s that you’ve
taught me to be honest. With others and most especially with myself.” She sat
down on the porch step and put her case between her legs. “Carolyn told me
about the baby. Julie’s baby.”

Sucker punched. She’d sucker punched him when he least
expected it. “That doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

“Now who’s not being honest?”

“I don’t do relationships, Allie. That’s all this is about.”

“You don’t do relationships, Craig, because you’re not done
having one with your wife.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“Not from where I’m sitting. You stopped grieving.” She
snapped her fingers. “Just flat stopped the minute you discovered those emails.
And I don’t have to be a psychologist to know you can’t adequately grieve for
your dead wife in three months.”

Anger, fierce and hot, rose up in his gut. “Oh, so you’re a
therapist now?”

“No, I’m someone who cares about you. Probably more than
you’re ready to hear, but we’ll save that for later. You never told your
brother about the emails. You never told anyone but me, and I’m pretty sure you
never would have told me if I hadn’t been so weak and sniffly at the time.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Most people would think you kept everything close to the
vest so you wouldn’t be pitied, but I know you better than that. You didn’t
know how to be angry and sad at the same time, and it pisses you off when you
can’t figure something out. You lost your wife, your child—”

“It might not have been mine.” The words, so long trapped in
his head, in his heart, came out in an angry whisper. He sank down on the step
next to her, his head in his hands.

“It could have been,” she said. “And it’s gotta be pure hell
not to know one way or the other. So because you didn’t know how to grieve, you
just decided not to, and you’re just stubborn enough to follow through.”

“I don’t want you analyzing me, Allie. You don’t know what
you’re talking about. You didn’t know me then. I wasn’t the same person I am
now.”

“You should probably grieve for him, too.”

“I was a coldhearted bastard. I worked all the damn time. I
told myself it was for Julie, for all the things she wanted and the lifestyle I
wanted to give her, but we both knew it was my own greed and pride that kept me
away from home.” He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm his racing
heart. “I don’t blame her for taking up with some other guy.”

“Now you’re just flat lying. There are lots of reasons to
cheat, Craig, and I’m sure when you’re tempted, you can come up with some
pretty good ones, but that doesn’t ever make it okay.”

“That’s your own divorced parents/old boyfriend baggage
talking now.”

“Probably. I can’t forgive or be with a cheater and neither
could you. Now or then. If she’d have lived, you’d have left her when you found
out about the cheating.”

It was the question that haunted him. What would he have
done, if given the chance? “Yeah,” he admitted after staring off in the
distance. “I would have.”

“But the baby might have changed things. She didn’t tell you
about the baby, so you don’t think it was yours. There are so many ways it all
could have played out if it weren’t for the accident. Too many ways. It makes
my head spin just thinking about all the things that could have happened, and I
just found out. I could play ‘what if’ for hours, but the only thing I can’t
see is you forgiving her and moving on. I don’t think you’re built like that.”

He just stared at her. She looked like a ghost in the soft
light of the porch lamp, but there was steel underneath her polished exterior.

“You couldn’t forgive her, alive or dead, and you’ve never
been able to forgive yourself. And that brings us back to now.”

She’d cut him to the quick and he intended to return the favor.
“You think you know everything now that we’ve slept together once and my new
sister-in-law told you some juicy gossip?”

“It wasn’t just once, Craig, and we both know it wasn’t just
sex.”

She was twisting everything around and tying his insides
into knots. He wanted so badly to rail at her, to be pissed, but everything she
said felt like a slap to his face. So instead of being mad, or appreciating her
honesty, he fought back the only way he knew how. “I can’t do this with you,
Allie, because I don’t want to. You’re a little too much for me and we both
know it.”

The shaky breath she let out made him feel worse than all
the things she’d said. “I can’t control your feelings any more than I can
control mine, so I may as well be honest. I’m in love with you, Craig, but I’m
not going to let you hurt me or lie to me. We can’t be together now because
you’re in no position to be with anyone. I love you enough to understand. I
also love myself enough not to wait for you. I can’t fix you and I can’t make
you love me back, but I may as well lay it all out for you and, if anything,
give you an easy out.”

“What the hell do expect me to say to that, Allie? Just what
the hell do you want?”

“I want you to be happy, Craig. I want me to be happy, too.
If we can figure out how to be happy together—after you’ve dealt with
your grief—then I think we’d make one hell of a couple. But if we can’t,
I still want us both to end up happy.”

“You don’t love me,” he said.

When she smiled at him, if he weren’t already sitting, it
would have brought him to his knees. “You can’t tell me how I feel.”

“What do you expect me to do with this?”

“That’s for you to decide.”

“But you’re not going to wait? You think you love me, but
you’re what? Going to go back to online dating?”

“I’m going to get through this one day at a time. You’re
just stubborn enough not to do anything and to let me and what we could have
together slip away. I deserve better than that.”

“What if…what if I get my shit together—I’m not
admitting I need to—but what if I do and you’ve met someone else?”

“I guess that’s the chance we both have to take.” She leaned
over and planted a kiss on his lips, lingering long enough for him to consider,
just for a second, grabbing hold and never letting go. She walked inside
without a backwards glance.

Chapter 32

Melissa hitched Henry on her hip and pounded on Allie's
door. She'd seen her car in the garage and wasn't leaving until her friend
showed her face. Melissa wasn't sure what she'd said or done to hurt Allie's feelings,
but it was just plain rude not to answer her phone calls and let her wonder.

Melissa was ready to pounce when she heard the door lock
slide open and the door inched back, but it was a gasp that came out of her
mouth when she caught sight of her friend. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Excuse me?” Allie asked. She shuffled back to the couch
where, from the look of the throws and pillows stacked at one end, she'd
dragged herself from to answer the door.

“It's the middle of the day,” Melissa said after closing the
door. “You haven't answered your phone or returned my calls. You're lying
around on the couch in your pajamas—which you never do—and you look
like hell. What gives?”

“I'm sick.”

“You're sick. Are your fingers broken, too?”

“What?”

She pointed to the phone where it rested on the cradle. Even
from the opposite side of the room, Melissa could see the message light
flashing. “Your phone.”

“I don't feel good, Mel.”

“Have you been to the doctor?”

“No.” Allie sat down and bundled under the covers. “I'm just
tired.”

“Too tired to answer the phone?”

“I didn't feel like talking to anyone.”

“Did you ever think some of us might be worried when you
didn't answer your phone?”

“No. I should have. That's really rude of me. I'm sorry.”

Melissa sat down on the coffee table in front of Allie and
studied her friend. “What happened? Are you moping around because of Craig?
Because really, after all this time, you've got to get over him.”

“I'm not moping around. I told you I don't feel good.”

“What are your symptoms?” Melissa asked. Henry, God bless
him, sat quietly in her lap playing with her necklace.

“I'm tired, I don't have any energy, and my stomach isn't
always steady.”

 
“Oh my God,
Allie. Tell me you're still on the pill.”

“What? Don't be silly. Of course I'm on the pill. I'm not
pregnant.”

“When are you supposed to get your period?” Melissa asked.

“I don’t know.” Allie rubbed her temple with her fingers.
“Couple of days.”

Melissa shot to her feet. “I’m going to the store right now
and getting you a pregnancy test.”

“Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? I’m not even late.
I could just have a bug or something. Or, let’s think this through. A few weeks
ago, I told the man I slept with I love him and haven’t heard a thing from him
since. So maybe, just maybe, I might be a tiny bit depressed.”

“Yes, you could be all of the above, including pregnant.
Let’s start by ruling out the big one and work our way back from there.”

“I’m not pregnant.”

Melissa turned at the door. “How can you be sure?”

“Because God wouldn’t be that cruel.” She covered her head
with the blanket and Melissa bolted out the door. Pregnant or not, God had
little to do with it.

***

The sinus infection. A ten-day course of antibiotics had
changed her life forever. Allie swore never to take antibiotics again.

She stepped off the elevator and stumbled in a daze to the
glass doors, pushing one open and stopping under the overhang where she could
take a deep breath of cold air and think. Okay, she was pregnant. The pee test
and the doctor’s confirmation hadn’t made reality sink in, but listening to the
heartbeat, watching the little bean shaped being inside her on the black and
white screen had felt like a sledge hammer of truth. She was having a baby.
Craig’s baby.

She pulled the keys from her purse and walked numbly to her
car. It wasn’t until she saw the reflection in the driver’s window that she
realized she was touching her uterus.

She unlocked the car and got in. She had to tell him. Just
the thought of telling him made her want to driver her car off a cliff. She
contemplated everything she’d said; all her brave talk about not trying to fix
him and not waiting for him sounded so hollow considering she’d just tied
herself to him forever. He was going to be mad, he was going to feel
manipulated, but come hell or high water, he was going to know.

Now all she had to do was find him.

***

Craig picked up the towel and used it to wipe his brow. He
welcomed the sweat and the ache in his muscles from swinging the ax. His mom
needed firewood for the season and he needed to work out some things in his
head. Sometimes, there was no better way to get your head right than to exhaust
your body.

And Craig was damn exhausted.

He’d worked like a dog getting Davis and Stacy
Hollingsworth’s house complete. They’d been as thrilled with the accelerated
schedule as his contractors had been pissed. It all worked out in the end and
everyone was happy—everyone but Davis’ buddy whose job Craig had quoted
and then pulled his name from consideration. Allie had thrown him a curve ball
and it was time to adjust his swing. If only he could get a grip on the bat.