“What?” Sean asked.

“Marion.” I swore under my breath. “Remember that day I came up here and told you my baby was breech? You hugged me. And after you left I saw Marion watching us. She’s obviously read more into it, and she’s not a huge fan of yours—”

“And she’s hardly averse to a good rumor. Shit!” Sean reached for the door handle. “I’m going to put a stop to it now. Don’t follow me, for fuck’s sake! The last thing we need is people seeing us emerge from a stairwell together.”

There was a whoosh of air; then Sean was gone. Headed to extinguish the problem. As for his tone, I couldn’t care less. As long as he was taking care of Marion, he could speak to me however he wanted. I reached for the handrail; then my breath stole away.

“Patrick.”

He stood on the landing below, a pillow wedged under his arm. He stared at the stairs ahead of him. “I brought this in for you. In case you decided to have another nap at the birthing center.” He lifted his eyes. They were vacant, cold. “You and Sean? Seriously?”

I wanted to run to him, to throw myself at his mercy, but I was eight months pregnant, so instead I carefully made my way down the stairs. On the final step, I reached for his arm. To his credit, he let me hold him until I had both feet on the flat surface. Then he dropped me like a hot stone.

“Let me make this clear,” I said. “There is no ‘me and Sean.’ It was a rumor started by Marion, we think. We are not having an affair.”

“But you did sleep together?”

I stared at him, and with no other choice, nodded.

“And this”—he poked my stomach gently with his finger—“is his baby?” He watched me, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes.”

“When?”

Now I was the one to drop my gaze.

“When, Neva?”

“Remember the night Sean told us about Laura’s tumor?” As much as I didn’t want to, I met his eye. Patrick’s face was completely frozen—not a flicker of an eyelid or twitch of a lip. I forced myself to continue. “He didn’t want to be alone. I said he could come back to my apartment and—”

“I get the picture.”

“No. You don’t.”

Patrick began to pace. I stared at him. The angle of his jaw and the curve of his forearm. It was hard to believe that, only a few minutes before, this beautiful human being was mine. He wanted to share a life with me and my baby. I felt faint.

“Neva?”

I became aware of his face, close to mine. “Yes?”

“Are you okay?”

“Fine. Just…” The walls swayed slightly. “… a little dizzy.”

“Sit down,” he said.

I started to shake my head, but Patrick’s arm went around my back and he lowered me onto the linoleum floor. “Just take a breath.”

“I never meant for any of this,” I said as he propped me against the wall. “The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”

He sat beside me. “I know.”

He sounded resigned. I wanted to say something more, but there were no words. I settled for sitting beside him. After what I’d just told him, I wasn’t sure if I’d have the chance to sit beside him again.

A few minutes later, the door swung open and a nurse I vaguely recognized appeared at the top of the stairs. “Do you need help here?”

“Yes, please, Rose.” As if awakened from a dream, Patrick sprang to standing. “Neva’s not feeling well. She’s thirty-six weeks pregnant, registered to deliver at St. Mary’s Birthing Center. I’d like you to check her heart rate and blood pressure for me.”

The nurse started down the stairs. “Yes, Dr. Johnson.”

Patrick pulled me to standing. “If everything looks okay, could you please order her a taxi?” He looked at me. “I don’t want you walking home in this weather, okay?”

At first I didn’t understand what he was saying. Then, I did. “You’re not coming?”

Patrick shook his head. “I’ll call the hospital when I get home, make sure you’re all right.”

I nodded. Somehow I even managed to choke out a thank you.

The nurse linked her arm through mine. “I’ll take good care of her. Shall I send the results to the birthing center, Dr. Johnson?”

“Thanks, Rose.” He looked at me. “Will you be okay, Neva?”

I pretended I didn’t hear, and let Rose guide me up the stairs. I’d never been good at good-byes. And no matter what had passed between us, I still didn’t want him to see me cry.

25

Grace

I got home just in the nick of time. The snow was coming down and the roads were slippery—not a good day to be driving. As I pulled up, the radio announced there had been an accident on the Beavertail Road and it was closed in both directions. I’d have worried that a client would go into labor tonight, but as I was no longer taking clients in secret, I had no other clients.

I’d never seen Robert quite so upset. The way he’d looked at me—it was a hundred times worse than when I’d told him about the investigation. He’d used all the worst words—betrayal, dishonesty, disappointment. Initially I’d stayed quiet. After all, I’d earned it. But when he kept it up, banging on about how selfish I was, I got my back up.

“Hang on a second!” I yelled. “I may have done the wrong thing, but what about you? You’ve been moping around here for weeks. Poor me, I might lose my job. Poor me, people got fired today. How about: Lucky me, I still have my job. Lucky me, I didn’t get fired today! And did it ever occur to you that I was doing this so I could support my family? I have an envelope full of cash in the study—”

“Wonderful, so now we are tax evaders too? Fantastic, Grace. You’re right. I should be thrilled.”

Eventually we’d reached a stalemate and gone to bed in separate rooms. We’d hardly spoken since, and I was still pissed off. Now, warm air hit my cheeks as I opened the front door to the house. A good, warm mug of soup was what I needed. Peeling off my scarf, hat, and gloves I hurried toward the kitchen. I was about to pass the sitting room when I heard Neva’s voice. I held back, out of sight. I hadn’t noticed her car. She sounded like she was crying.

“Are you sure it’s over?” Robert asked.

Neva must have nodded.

“Then he’s an idiot. An idiot and certainly not a gentleman. Abandoning you when you’re about to have a baby. What have you done to deserve that?”

I crept a few steps forward and pressed my ear to the wall.

“I slept with a married man, Dad. A man who was going through something awful with his wife.”

I clapped a hand over my mouth. But Robert, in usual Robert fashion, didn’t react.

“She’s made a full recovery—his wife—and she knows nothing about me. The whole thing was a horrible mistake.”

I wanted to run in there, to wrap my arms around her, but something stopped me. Robert was with her.

“Well … you know what, sweetie? If there’s something I’ve learned from being married to your mother, it’s that mistakes, misjudgments, failures—sometimes they’re the best part of life. In fact, as far as mistakes go, I’d say this one is the best you’ve ever made. Creating a life. Giving me a grandchild.”

Neva laughed and sniffed. “You sound like Mom.”

“She’s rubbed off on me after all these years. As for Patrick … well, I’m guessing he’ll need some time. He might come back. You never know.”

“I doubt it. Why would he?”

“You can flagellate yourself if you want, justify all the reasons he won’t come back to you, the reasons he shouldn’t. But you know what? It won’t affect the outcome. You’re better to focus on what you do have, which is a baby, due very soon. A baby who, even without a father, has been blessed in the parent department.”

I peered around the corner. Robert had his arm around Neva, and her head rested on his shoulder. I took a step back, then another, retracing my steps out the front door and onto the street.

I powered along the unplowed roads for what felt like hours. The ground was carpeted white, apart from patches where reeds peeked through, too frozen even to sway in the wind. Suddenly it was all so clear. Why Neva didn’t come to me. Why she was so much more open with her father. I’d come into our relationship with so many strings attached. Love me. Share with me. Validate me. And when she didn’t, I pushed her even harder. Even further away. The truth was, she could never have filled me. She wasn’t the one who’d left the hole. It was my father.