Teresa Southwick - Wedding Rings and Baby Things

“I wish I didn’t have to ask, but…are you planning to marry the baby’s father?”

“No.”

Even if Doug Hammond had proposed instead of telling her not to expect any support, she wouldn’t tie herself to a man who was so underhanded and untrust-worthy. She was sorry she hadn’t seen sooner what a jerk Doug was. After that conversation, she hadn’t expected to hear from him again. But in the last couple weeks, he had left messages on her answering machine. She hadn’t returned them and hoped he would get the hint that she wanted him out of her life forever. She couldn’t stand the sight of the man, but she would never be sorry about the baby she now carried.

Mr. Bloomhurst looked genuinely sympathetic. “Then my hands are tied, Kelly. Liz McCutcheon went to the school board after she spoke to you today. They called me with a decision. You won’t be back in September.”

Kelly’s heart sank. “I don’t understand.”

“You’re a fine teacher. No one knows that or appreciates the job you do more than me. But the school board won’t permit a pregnant, unmarried teacher in the classroom. They’re concerned about the example it sets for the students.”

“But this is the nineties, Mr. Bloomhurst.”

He nodded grimly. “I know. But this is Newhall, California, Small Town, U.S.A. It’s a nice place to live. But that can be a double-edged sword.”

“I won’t be pregnant in September.”

“Are you planning to keep the child?”

“Of course!” Kelly was shocked that he would even ask. It would never occur to her to give away her child.

“You won’t be married, either, and you’ll still have a child out of wedlock. I did my best to change their minds, but they were adamant.”

Kelly was numb. She knew that was a good thing. She didn’t want to go hysterical in front of this man. “I suppose there’s nothing I can do?”

He shook his head. “If you had tenure, you could probably fight the ruling.”

She stood up and gripped the back of the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Do you want me. to finish out the last four weeks?”

“I’d appreciate it”

“But I’m still pregnant. What about Mrs. McCutcheon?”

“I’ll handle Liz.” He looked down for a moment, then back up at her. “I know this is hypocritical, but I’d like to keep the news quiet and have you finish up. with your classes until the end of the year. It would be disruptive to the students to bring in a substitute now.”

She nodded. “I wouldn’t do anything to hurt the kids. Some of them need these grades for college.”

“I appreciate that, Kelly.” He folded his hands and looked at her a little uncomfortably. “May I ask you a personal question? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“There’s a rumor…” He cleared his throat. “Is Mike the baby’s father?”

“No!” Mike Cameron? The idea shocked her. Then she almost laughed out loud. She’d known Mike since she was a kid. Once she’d had a crush on him, but she’d gotten over that years ago. “We’re good friends, nothing more. I rent his guest house—” Aha, that was probably why someone, probably Mrs. Busybody McCutcheon, had jumped to some wild conclusions.

“I’m sorry. I had to ask. It was a stupid question. If he was the father we wouldn’t be having this discussion.” Mr. Bloomhurst took off his glasses. He stood up and held out his hand. “If there’s anything I can ever do, just let me know.”

“I will,” Kelly said, putting her fingers in his palm. She knew he truly meant what he said, but she couldn’t help being angry and upset As nice as he was, he was still a man. As much as she needed one right now, a. he was already married, and b. she had sworn off men…maybe forever.

Kelly drove into Mike’s driveway, past his large Spanish-style home, then braked in front of the smaller guest house. She leaned to the left and pulled the lever to pop the trunk on her four-door car before getting out to remove the empty cardboard boxes. As she moved purposefully up the curved, brick walkway to her front porch, she tried to shake the fear she was feeling about finding a new job and a place to live.

After unlocking the heavy oak door, she clicked on the front porch light and tossed the boxes inside, then retrieved the rest from the car. When she was finished, she slung her purse on the parsons bench just beside the door of her two-bedroom apartment. With the flick of a switch on the wall, brass lamps illuminated the interior of her comfortable living room with the floral sofa and matching love seat. Oak tables sat on either end of the sofa with a coffee table in front. Her lowheeled shoes sank in the thick hunter green carpet. All the emotions she had been fending off all day gathered into a lump in her throat. How she was going to miss this place.

She recalled when Mike had insisted that her mother pick out the color of the rug, just before they’d moved in. Ill as she was, Margaret Walker had perked up visibly at the excitement of redecorating. Kelly would always be grateful for Mike’s kindness to her mother.

That’s why she had to protect him now.

It was evening, after seven. She hadn’t eaten, but she wasn’t hungry. She had spent the time since leaving Mr. Bloomhurst making decisions about what to do. The first one was to move.

After kicking off her shoes, she took a box into the kitchen and started removing things that she hardly ever used from the topmost shelves of her cupboards.

The clatter she made nearly drowned out the doorbell, and she wasn’t sure she’d actually heard it. But a second later an insistent ringing told her loud and clear that pregnancy had not affected her ears.

In her bare feet she padded to the front door and opened it.

“Where the hell have you been?” Mike Cameron glared at her and barged through the doorway.

“Hi, Mike. I’m fine, thanks. How are you? Come on in,” she said, closing the door. Turning her back on him, she headed through the dining room back to the kitchen. She squatted down and started putting dish towels and odds and ends into a box.

Mike was hot on her heels. She heard his athletic shoes squeak on the tile floor as he stopped short behind her. “I was worried. When you didn’t show up to tutor Jake, I was about to call the cops.”

Kelly groaned and stood up. “I’m sorry, Mike. I completely forgot.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His dark, almost black, eyes bored into her as if he could see every single secret she had.

“What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

“Because you’re the most responsible, organized, punctual person I know.”

“Watch it. You’ll turn my head with flattery like that.”

“Cut it out, Kelly. What’s going on? Where were you? It’s not like you to forget about one of your students.”

“I had a bad day. I’ll call Jake right now and see if he’s available.”

She started for the phone, which was right next to where Mike stood in the doorway. When she caught a glimpse of his face, she stopped. Every once in a while she was taken aback by his athletic good looks. His dark hair was cut short, and more often than not he wore a baseball cap that said Stevenson Football on it He was thirty-five years old, but still boyish looking in spite of the shadow of beard that darkened his jaw. She studied him critically and realized he appeared boyish only when he was smiling, which he was definitely not doing now. At the moment he glowered at her, and his eyes smoldered with anger.

That surprised her. She felt badly that she had missed her appointment, but she had a sneaking suspicion Jake Saterfield was relieved that she hadn’t shown up. Mike’s star running back put English composition in the same category that the average person put a root canal.

Mike seemed to fill the doorway of her kitchen. “Don’t bother calling him. He went to his girlfriend’s house to study.”

“Jessica is an honors student. If they actually get some work done, he’ll do fine on his test in Susan’s class tomorrow.”

“The hell with his test tomorrow.”

“I thought you were concerned about his grade and his eligibility to play in September.”

“I am. But right now I’m more concerned about you. I asked you where you were. Hey, what are you doing with these boxes?”

“I’m packing.”

“I can see that. Why are you packing? You shouldn’t be doing that kind of stuff. You’re pregnant, for God’s sake.” He crossed his arms over his chest and she couldn’t help noticing how his red T-shirt pulled tight around his powerful bicep. He was in tiptop physical shape, and reminded Kelly just how ungainly she looked right now. His black shorts showed off his athletic build, right down to his narrow waist and muscular, well-formed thighs. Mike was enough to make a woman’s heart beat double-time. If that woman hadn’t sworn off men, of course.

Kelly had always thought Mike was a hunk in stretch cotton, since the very first time she’d seen him when her older brother Jim had brought him home after football practice. But there had never been anything of a romantic nature in her relationship with Mike. He had always treated her like a younger sister, and that had killed her crush pretty quickly. But that didn’t mean she was deaf, dumb and blind. He was a good-looking man, too sexy for his own good, a fact proven by a string of broken female hearts over the years.

“Since when has pregnancy been a debilitating disease?” she asked snappishly.

Mike’s eyebrows lifted at her tone, even though she hadn’t meant to be sharp. Without a word, he walked over to her and gently held her upper arms, squeezing them reassuringly. As he scanned her face, concern replaced irritation.

“Kelly, something’s happened. Tell me what’s wrong.”

She fixed her gaze on the tab collar of his shirt, dismayed that she felt very close to tears. That hadn’t happened to her since getting the news. Why now, in front of Mike?

“I’ve been fired.”

He frowned. “Fired?”

“Yes, as in canned, sacked and let go. As of the end of the school year.”

“But you’re one of the best teachers Cliff has. I don’t understand.”

“Don’t blame Mr. Bloomhurst. He didn’t want to do it. The school board made the decision. It’s because of the baby,” she said, placing one hand protectively on her abdomen. “Actually, that’s not entirely true. It’s because I’m not married to the baby’s father.”

“Any woman who marries that jerk should have her head examined.”

“Don’t start, Mike, or I’ll be forced to bring up Bambi.”

“Her name was not Bambi. It was Jennifer.”

“Same thing,” Kelly said. Suddenly she was exhausted. “I’m going to sit down. If you can be supportive and appropriately sympathetic, you’re welcome to join me in the living room. If not, go away.”

“Come on,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the sofa in front of the red brick fireplace.

Mike sat down beside her. He had been relieved when he heard Kelly’s car come up the drive and saw the lights go on in the guest house. As far as he knew, she hadn’t missed an appointment for anything since he and her brother, Jim, had kidnapped her for breakfast on her eighteenth birthday and she hadn’t shown up to get her hair cut

Mike half turned so he could see Kelly’s face, just as she tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. Over the years, he’d seen her with long and short styles, but he decided he liked this sophisticated, page boy look best. Her thick mahogany hair hit her just about chin length and drew his attention to her face. Purple smudges darkened her skin, just below her green eyes. She looked delicate and fragile. He hated that she was losing her job, because she was a fine teacher, and she had a lot to offer her students. Mostly he hated it because of what it was doing to her.