The Leftover Club Read online

  Suddenly nothing seemed sadder.

  I purchased that music box and I headed home. I was going to tell Wade the truth. We had everything we needed to give our child the future he or she deserved. He was strong, healthy and successful, and I had opportunities opened to me so that I could participate in my own destiny as well. We had a lovely home in a secure neighborhood, and already had a sizeable savings account and stock portfolio that could provide for our child’s education in the future.

  Sure, it was scary to consider that a vulnerable, helpless human would depend on me for his or her very survival and safe upbringing, but people with a lot less did it all the time.

  I could do this. I could have it all.

  I stopped by a baby boutique before I reached the house, purchasing a bib that read, “Daddy’s Little Angel” on a white background with red writing. I figured it was a cute way to break the news.

  Wade was in his office when I arrived. He beckoned me inside and I joined him at his desk. “You’re home late,” he murmured before he pulled me down for a kiss. “Good visit with your mother?”

  I suppressed a grin. The way he said “your mother,” was not unlike the way she said, “your husband.” They truly were in-laws.

  And now they were about to become even more.

  “Great visit,” I said with a smile. He returned it as he pulled me into his lap.

  “You’re in good spirits. Are you feeling better?”

  I smiled and said, “No.” His brow furrowed, but I didn’t give him time to ask any questions. I produced the gift bag from the boutique.

  “What’s this?”

  “Open it,” I urged.

  He pulled out the tissue paper, gently disposing of it in the wastebasket beside his desk. Then he withdrew the bib by one string. It took him a moment to process what it meant. “Roni?” he echoed.

  His rare use of my childhood nickname threw me. Was this good or bad? I put my arms around his neck. “Daddy,” I said before I kissed him on the mouth.

  He was too shocked to stop me.

  His eyes were unreadable as I pulled away. “I take it this is why you haven’t been feeling well.”

  I bowed my head as I offered a sheepish nod.

  “I don’t understand. You were on birth control. How did this happen?”

  “Remember? I changed the prescription to lose weight.”

  He nodded, accepting my answer silently. “Well,” he sighed. “This certainly changes things a bit.”

  He scooted me off of his lap and walked over to his bar to pour himself a drink. My voice was quiet. “In a good way, I hope.”

  He downed the drink in a single gulp. “It’s certainly going to make things more difficult for you. You’re the one who will have to fit it all in, school, your internship at the office, preparing the house. It’s a lot of work. I had hoped we would have had time to stabilize a few things before you sprang this kind of surprise on me.”

  I didn’t like the sound of that. He was acting as if it were my fault. “I didn’t do it on purpose, Wade.” And I most certainly didn’t do it alone, I thought.

  He nodded. “I know you didn’t. Which makes it even worse.” He faced me with a newly filled tumbler of whiskey in his hand. “It was foolish to make this kind of mistake. Not something that a smart, ambitious girl would allow, that’s for sure.”

  My lip trembled. “I thought you wanted kids.”

  “I do,” he said as he walked back over to the desk to tower over me. “I just hoped you’d have grown up first.”

  I gasped as I stared at him. Who was this man? I stood to face him. “According to the law, I’m grown up enough to vote, to drink and to buy a firearm.” I was seriously considering the latter the longer I stared at my sanctimonious husband.

  “You’re an adult,” he conceded. “But you’re not grown. You have too much to learn about yourself and the world around you to take care of a child.” He sighed. “But, it’s a little too late to do anything about it now.”

  My chin tipped. “Actually it’s not. I can have an abortion up to eight weeks.”

  He scoffed as he turned away.

  “What?” I demanded. “You’re telling me I’m not mature enough to be a mother. I don’t have to be if I don’t want to be.”

  He swung around to face me. “You’re not getting an abortion. And that’s final.”

  I was incredulous as I stared at him. “So you’re going to berate me for being pregnant, but prevent me from doing anything about it?”

  “All I can hope is that you’ll be more careful about it the next time,” he muttered as he moved me aside to sit at his desk. He glanced me over. “But it certainly does explain why you’ve been looking so soft and doughy lately.” His mood was dour. “I suppose we can expect more of that in the future.”

  “Fuck you,” I snapped as I stalked toward the door.

  He was on his feet in an instant. “What did you say to me?”

  I spun around, tears in my eyes. “I said fuck you, Wade. I’m your wife, not some pimply faced teenager who got knocked up in the back seat of your car. It’s not impossible for me to do all these things. Women do it all the time. It’s the 90s, for Chrissakes.”

  “Lovely mouth,” he gritted. “Going to teach that to our child, are you?”

  “Maybe,” I snapped before stomping from the room. He followed me into the hallway.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “To my mother’s,” I told him as I climbed the stairs. “When you’re ready to apologize, come find me.” I packed one small suitcase and was gone within the hour.

  But my heart sank when I pulled up into my mother’s driveway. I recognized Bonnie’s car immediately, which meant Dylan couldn’t be that far behind. I left my suitcase in the car as I headed for the house.

  As predicted, he was right at the dinner table with my mom, her new husband Stu, Bonnie and her date de jour. All men were on their feet as I approached, including Dylan – who stared at me like I was a complete stranger.

  I knew my appearance had a lot to do with that.

  I was passed around from person to person, hugging everyone hello. I finally ended up in Dylan’s arms, which closed around me so completely it stole my breath away. I pulled back before I could indulge such thoughts. I may have been mad at him, but Wade was still my husband.

  “How are you doing, Roni?” Bonnie asked.

  Pregnant. “Fine,” I said with a smile plastered to my face.

  “We’re so glad you could join us. Hail, hail, the gang’s all here at last. Heavens. We haven’t been able to visit like this in years. How long has it been, Dylan?”

  My eyes swept to his face, but his expression was unreadable. “Sequoia,” he answered, and I felt humiliation burn as it rose in my cheeks. Thanks to that harrowing experience, I didn’t bother with sex again until my wedding night, which seemed to please Wade to be my first.

  “Let me get you a plate,” my mom said but I shook my head.

  “I don’t want to interrupt anything. I just thought I would stop by and say hi.”

  “It’s no bother,” Bonnie insisted. She nudged Dylan again. “Tell her it’s no bother.”

  Those dark eyes gave nothing away. “It’s no bother,” he repeated as he stood. He disappeared quickly into the kitchen to fetch me a plate.

  “Oh, Roni, you may need to go help him. I don’t think he knows where I moved the china.”

  I met her eyes with a knowing look. I bent down near her ear as I passed by. “You’re about as subtle as a hand grenade, Mom.”

  She simply waved her hand. “Bring back the gravy,” she called as I slipped between the swinging doors. I found Dylan, leaning against the counter.

  I offered an apologetic grin. “When I got married, I thought for sure the Moms would give up trying to get us together.”

  He grinned absently. “Old dreams die hard, I guess.” His eyes swept over me. “You look amazing, Roni. Really.”

  I
warmed to his praise momentarily. Then I remembered that I was a married woman now and such things were inappropriate. “Thank my husband. He’s the one who has me in the gym at six o’clock in the morning.”

  He shoved himself off of the counter. “Whatever it is, it’s working. You look beautiful.” He smiled as he walked closer. “Kind of like Jo on Facts of Life.”

  I laughed. We shared a crush on her once upon a time. “Thanks, Dylan.” I sat at the kitchen table and he joined me. “So how long are you in town?”

  “Not very long. We’re starting our new production in March. I have to get back in a few weeks to start rehearsals.”

  “I thought you were still in school.”

  He shook his head. “There’s only so much you can learn from schooling.”

  I chuckled. “They kicked you out, didn’t they?”

  He held up his right hand. “Guilty. You know me too well.”

  “Do you get to see your dad?” I asked. That was the important question.

  He shrugged. “He’s busy. I’m busy. But we manage to see each other occasionally, generally whenever I need money,” he added with a wink.

  I chuckled and shook my head. “You’re horrible, Dylan Fenn. Absolutely horrible.”

  He chuckled too. Then his eyes fell to my left hand. “How’s married life treating you?”

  “It’s great,” I offered immediately. “Wade is wonderful. He’s patient and he’s kind. He’s taught me so many things I didn’t know before.”

  “Because of your dad?” he asked.

  I had never considered that before but I ended up nodding. “Yeah, I guess so.” I thought about the house and all our belongings, how he gave me a life I could simply walk into. Wade took care of everything, and how I could legally expect that for the rest of my life. “It’s nice having that security there,” I concluded.

  “I imagine,” Dylan murmured. “So are there kids on the horizon?”

  I laughed. “Everyone asks me that. Like it’s my job or something to procreate.”

  “That’s not what I meant,” he backtracked but I held up a hand.

  “It’s okay.” After a slight pause, I answered, “We have nothing planned but if something happens, it happens. We’re prepared for it.”

  He nodded. “That’s good. You deserve to be happy, Roni. More than anyone I know.” His eyes were dark and deep. “And you know I wouldn’t say it if it weren’t true.”

  I placed my hand on his. “Thanks, Dylan.”

  The kitchen doors swung open and Wade loomed large and ominous in the door fame. He spotted my hand over Dylan’s, which I quickly removed under his scrutiny.

  “Wade,” I said.

  “We’re going home,” he announced.

  I motioned for Dylan to give us a minute before I joined him at the door. “My mother has company. You don’t want to appear rude.”

  “You’ve been ill,” he said. “You need your rest. I’m sure your mother would agree.”

  I sighed and glanced back at Dylan. “I have to go,” I said.

  He nodded. “I understand. Feel better,” he offered. “It was real good seeing you again, Roni.”

  “Ditto,” I said as I followed Wade out of the kitchen. We made brief excuses to my mother and her guests before I followed him to his luxury sedan in the drive. “What about my car?” I asked.

  “Maybe your friend Dylan can bring it to you,” he snapped as he let me in.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” I shot back. I waited for him to get into the driver’s seat before I went on. “So where are we going from here, Wade?”

  “We’re going home.”

  “No, I mean where are we going from here?”

  “That depends,” he said, keeping his eyes glued to the road. “Are you planning on terminating this pregnancy?”

  “I was,” I answered honestly.

  He spared me a glance. “And now?”

  “And now I can’t imagine life without this baby in it. I can picture painting the nursery or rocking her by the window as she nursed. I see playing paddy cake and teaching her to ride a bike, sending her off to kindergarten and eventually to college. Who knows what her life could have in store?”

  “Her?” he questioned.

  I thought about what Dylan suggested, about my choosing Wade because I needed a father figure in my life to keep me safe and secure in a way I hadn’t been since I was six. How on earth would I relate to a son? I nodded in response. “Meghan,” I decided as I put a hand to my stomach. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl. And I wouldn’t let her make the same mistakes I did. I’d protect her every day of her life so that she didn’t waste her youth mooning over some impossible boy. If I did my job right, she wouldn’t even need a husband one day. She could marry for love instead, so that when she told her husband she was bearing his child, he’d swing her into his arms and shout it to the rooftops.

  To Wade’s credit, he walked me inside the house and led me up the stairs with his hand in the small of my back. He doted well by providing crackers and milk on a tray by the bed, and he fluffed my pillow as I snuggled down to sleep.

  I was so exhausted all the time. I suspected it was going to be a long nine months.

  But at the end of it, I’d have the greatest gift of all.

  My child.

  My daughter.

  My Meghan.

  I loved her already.

  30: Christmas is a Time to Say I Love You

  December 22, 2007

  Dylan didn’t leave my condo much during that 2007 holiday season. He helped us pick out a tree, decorate the house, string the lights, and wounded himself as he attempted to make popcorn and cranberry garland.

  We even invited the Moms over a time or two, and they were practically over the moon when they realized that we were now, officially (or as officially as it gets with Dylan) a “couple.”

  He had moved in, little by little, a fact Meghan used to gleefully torment her father. I got the feeling he wouldn’t be skipping her Christmas visitation this year. True to form, the morning before she was due to leave we walked outside to find a bright yellow Mustang with a huge red bow on top. Typical overcompensation, only this time Meghan could see that. At first she wanted to take a crowbar to it, but Dylan suggested they go for a drive, and by the time they got back, she was in much better spirits.

  “What did you tell her?”

  He simply shrugged. “I just told her about all the big gifts my dad bought me to buy my compliance with his absence. After a while, the gift is more useful. If this is as much as he can give, she should take him for all he’s worth.”

  I laughed. “You get to say stuff like that. I have to play nice.”

  He grinned. “Glad I can come in handy.”

  I pulled him close for a kiss. “You do, indeed, sir.”

  He lifted me up and we disappeared into the bedroom.

  By the time we made it back out again, she had packed and lined her suitcases along the hallway. We knew she didn’t want to leave us, but she seemed resigned. It was as if we had stepped into an alternate universe. She saved all her snark and her bad attitude for her father, while we got the happy, fun-time Meghan.

  Most of this was due to her budding romance with Taylor Anderson. They had stayed connected through texts and nightly phone calls, and by Christmas they had changed their statuses to “in a relationship.”

  Best of all, she deleted Kyle’s number and blocked him from contacting her. She told me that now that she knows how a man truly treats a woman he cares for, opportunistic players like Kyle were much easier to spot.

  She still rolled her eyes every time we kissed in front of her, but Dylan reminded me that was probably in the teen handbook somewhere.

  All in all, he blended well into our household, despite the fact that it had been a girls’ only club for ten years.

  Every morning I woke up and saw him sleeping on the pillow next to me, his arm flung around my middle, claiming me while he slept, I truly bel
ieved I was dreaming. How could this be possible? How could I, the reigning president of the Leftover Club, be in a relationship with the uncatchable boy?

  I would have to pass off my scepter to Bryan when he got back from a location shoot in England. He was the only one left, and I was pretty confident that wasn’t going to change.

  I cuddled up next to Dylan and kissed him awake. He yawned, stretched and then pulled me close. “Good morning,” he murmured with a smile.

  I slid my hand down his body, which was already reaching for me. Just feeling him fill my hand was enough to make me crazy. Now that we had made love, it seemed to be all we did. I got on birth control the minute we got back from Big Bear, but we were still waiting out the first month before we abandoned the condoms.

  He was grumpy as we slid another one onto his hardened shaft. “I can’t wait to feel you,” he said as he pulled me on top of him and thrust deep inside.

  I kissed him as I gyrated slowly against him. I already knew it was an intimacy that he hadn’t shared with anyone in quite a while, and I felt honored that he wanted that with me. It meant that he knew he could trust me. I wasn’t some bimbo out to snag herself a baby daddy. The most important job in my life was being a mom. It was a commitment I took very seriously.

  So we were very careful through our sex marathons. It only made the both of us hotter for future encounters.

  He flipped me onto my back, and I withheld my cries of pleasure as I gripped the sheets while he thrust into me. “I can’t wait to get you alone,” he whispered into my ear. “I’m going to make you scream.”

  I knew he would (and could) make due on that promise. Sometimes we got so feisty I thought we might break the bed frame. Every time I thought of how he lost control, taking me with such passion and such desire, my insides experienced a meltdown. I tapped out of our current session to lead him to the shower in my private bathroom.

  You’d be surprised how much sound you could muffle with running water.

  And I suddenly wanted to get loud.

  He pushed me up against the wall and entered me from behind. The minute his hand snaked around and his fingers made contact with my clit as he fucked me, I cried out. “Dylan,” I muttered as I held on to the side of that tile wall.