Misconception

Chapter One

“I’m sorry,” Pace said into the receiver. “I didn’t hear you.” The boys ran through the house, chasing their chocolate lab puppy, Cooper, screaming at the top of their lungs with a dog toy chirping in each of their hands. They passed through the kitchen and up the stairs, where, coincidentally, Cooper wasn’t allowed to go. “It’s mass chaos here. For a second I thought you said I was pregnant.”

A pause on the other end of the line, just a slight hesitation, told Pace she’d heard right. “I did say you’re pregnant, Mrs. Kelly. Just got the labs back this morning.”

The noise disappeared, as if it had been swallowed into a vacuum and the only sound was the buzzing in her head. “Wait…” she struggled to get the power of speech back. “That can’t be right. My husband’s had a vasectomy.”

“I’ve seen it happen before. You two didn’t follow the doctor’s orders and use condoms until they could test and make sure it worked.”

“My husband had a vasectomy three years ago.”

The silence on the other end of the line wasn’t just a hesitation. No, it seemed more like a cavern of deep contemplation. “Oh…”

“Listen, there has to be some kind of mistake. I know I haven’t been feeling quite right, but I’m not pregnant.” Pace didn’t know who she was trying to convince. She’d been tired, listless, occasionally nauseous, and her periods were all over the board, but pregnant? “Those tests aren’t a hundred percent accurate, right?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelly. I’m looking at the blood test results. Your file indicates you aren’t taking any medications. Is that correct?”

“Yes, I mean, no…I mean, I’m not on any medication other than multivitamins.”

“Then there’s no doubt about it,” she said. “You’re pregnant.”

When the phone call ended, Pace still had the phone dangling from her frozen fingers as Jason rushed into the kitchen, talking a mile a minute into the ear piece that since his latest “big deal” had started, seemed permanently attached to his head.

“Jason?” He swallowed the dregs from one of the kid’s orange juice glasses still on the table and shoved an uneaten bagel half into his mouth. He raised his eyes to heaven and with his free hand pointed to the earpiece, as if she didn’t know he wasn’t talking to her about the glazing ratio of the atrium glass. “I need to talk to you.” He kissed her cheek and headed for the garage.

“I’ll call you from the car,” he whispered.

She’d come to think of his out-of-town meetings as his weekly escape. This deal, some skyscraper in Chicago that caused him to pop Tums like candy, had him out of town at least three days a week for the last two months and the boys pushing the limits of her patience.

As if she’d summoned them, Dillon and Mitchell rushed back through the kitchen, puppy in hot pursuit, in their habitual loop around the main floor—kitchen, dining room, den; kitchen, dining room, den—just as she sank into a kitchen chair. Mitchell dragged his disgusting old blanket and Dillon still wore his pajama pants. She eyed the clock. Eight-eleven and the bus arrived at the corner at eight-twenty.

“Did you guys brush your teeth?”

Her perpetual question always received the same answer. “I forgot.”

They both headed back upstairs with orders to finish getting dressed as Pace lassoed the puppy and shoved his getting-bigger-by-the-day body out the back door. He needed to run off some energy chasing the remaining squirrels that hadn’t come to grips with the fact that he was there to stay.

Pregnant? Pace felt as if she’d been knocked over the head with a two-by-four. She leaned against the counter and laid a hand on her stomach as the boys conducted what sounded like an aerobics class above her head. Her body didn’t feel any different than it did ten minutes ago. How in the world could she be pregnant? She and Jason hadn’t even had sex that much lately.

“Let’s go guys,” she shouted up the stairs. “I’m not driving you to school today.” But when she turned and saw the bus pass in front of the house, she knew she would, in fact, be driving them to school. Not that missing the bus never happened; she knew they loved her driving them in as much as she loved their few minutes alone in the car, but the mayhem she embraced everyday with a heartfelt smile seemed like the straw that would break her back on the heels of the nurse’s bombshell.

It took twenty minutes to find Mitchell’s missing shoe and to re-make Dillon’s sandwich. “Tommy Butler is allergic to peanut butter,” he explained as she searched the junk drawer for her keys. “Mrs. Finegold keeps throwing my sandwich away.”

Pace quit rummaging around and slammed the drawer shut. No more peanut butter and jelly? Why didn’t they just stick a knife in her back? What in the world would her picky son eat for lunch? “Dillon, why didn’t you tell me about the no-peanut-butter policy? And how can your teacher just throw your sandwich away when she hasn’t notified the parents about the new rule?”

As Pace grumbled under her breath and considered calling the principal to complain about the teacher, Dillon began frantically fishing through his backpack. If his teacher could see her now, the lightweight everyone considered a pushover—throwing bread on the counter, drumming her fingers on the open refrigerator door as she surveyed its contents, trying to figure out what Dillon would possibly deem worthy of his discriminating palate, slamming mayonnaise and cheese on the counter—she wouldn’t be so quick to label her a nice, easygoing parent, someone whose son everybody wanted in their class. Pace knew everyone thought she was too nice, too proper to make waves. Little did they know her life had just been turned upside down. Dillon interrupted her frantic attempt to make an acceptable sandwich, a sandwich he’d probably throw away because he wouldn’t eat it, and handed her a crumbled note. “Mrs. Finegold told us to have you sign this. I forgot.”

No wonder he’d been ravenous when he came home. She’d stupidly attributed his hunger to a growth spurt. Dillon brooded the whole way to school about the turkey and cheese sandwich she made even after Pace had filled it with potato chips like they sometimes did at home. Mitchell kept tugging off the sock cap she insisted he wear in the rare Atlanta cold snap. “But it itches,” he whined as they idled in the carpool line.

An hour later, the boys safely delivered to Parkside elementary school and the dog asleep in his bed in the corner of the den, Pace checked the phone. No calls, no messages. Darn it, Jason. Call. The whole ride to school and back she’d thought of nothing but the nurse’s announcement. Hadn’t everyone heard the story about the woman who, after her husband got a vasectomy, had a tummy tuck and then found out she was pregnant? She’d thought that was an urban legend, like being able to tell the sex of a baby by peeing into Drano.

She and Jason had agonized over whether to have more children years ago after watching two parents juggle more kids than adults at sporting events and school activities. They’d made their decision official three years ago with a thirty-minute outpatient procedure and a recovery weekend of March Madness and rotating bags of frozen peas. And now—when the kids were both finally in school and Jason was stressed to the breaking point with this deal and his boss—now she got pregnant? They’d sold every scrap of baby stuff they had lurking in the basement at the neighborhood garage sale last summer and she’d just started laying the groundwork for a home-based business. Despite the appealing chance to experience it all again—the first smile, the first steps, the first word—she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that all of her plans had gone ‘poof’ with one thirty-second phone call.

After trying Jason and getting his voicemail, Pace headed upstairs to make the bed and had to stop at the top to catch her breath. Her lack of endurance and shortness of breath, two of the symptoms that had led her to the doctor in the first place, now made sense knowing she was pregnant. So much about how she’d been feeling became clear even as her future went dim and out of focus.

She eyed the phone on the bedside table and knew Jason wouldn’t answer the phone if he was still talking to his boss, Tarks, or one of his clients. He longed to start his own firm and a big part of her wished he would go ahead and do it so he’d stop complaining about his job all the time. Whenever he started one of his diatribes about Tarks, Pace had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him to go ahead and quit after they’d practically broken their backs for the last ten years paying off his student loans because he was too stubborn to borrow money from her parents. They’d finally managed to stash a little money into savings and start a college fund for the boys and she’d hoped to have a better buffer in place before he risked his steady income. She glanced at the phone on her nightstand and willed it to ring as she piled throw pillows on top of the comforter.

After picking up the boys’ dirty clothes from the floor and turning off every light blazing away in their rooms, she went back downstairs, looked at the mantle clock in the den, and realized Jason had probably already taken off. She was about to go crazy keeping the news to herself, but felt a little relieved at the delay. Pace knew her husband would freak when she told him the news because, as much as they both wanted him to, he’d never be able to leave the security of his job with another baby on the way.

* * *

The whole way to the airport, Tarks wouldn’t quit nagging Jason about the atrium design. Yes, the man was a world-renowned architect, yes, his reputation was beyond reproach, and yes, he’d taken Jason under his wing. But working so closely with him, as much of an honor as it should have been, had become Jason’s number one reason to get out on his own.

As he did during most of his quiet moments, he thought of the future on the flight to Chicago. In just a few weeks, his back and forth travel would slow down and he could relax, enjoy the holidays, and start making concrete plans for his own firm. He dreaded announcing his departure and the hit to his bank account wouldn’t be easy to stomach, but the call he planned to make when he got home would help ease the sting.

After mulling it over for weeks, he’d decided to accept the offer on his grandfather’s land. The farm had been sitting empty for years, a sentimental investment that could finally be put to good use. The bid hadn’t even come close to their asking price, but he had to be realistic about what a hundred and twenty-five acres of South Georgia farmland would fetch in a down economy. If the buyer accepted his counter, the deal could close in sixty days and he could have his new firm up and running by spring. Just the thought of starting his own firm and proving everyone wrong who thought he’d married Pace for her money had him smiling as he returned his seatback to the upright position in preparation for landing.

Pace. Damn, he’d told her he’d call from the car. She seemed weird when he left, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe he had to run out the door to catch his flight. He knew she hated the travel as much as he did, but she couldn’t understand the pressure he was under. And the boys. They’d barely even stopped chasing the dog long enough to kiss him goodbye. He even caught them high-fiving in the hallway when they saw his suitcase and knew mom would order pizza for dinner. Nice to know they’d throw him under the bus for a slice of pepperoni. His hectic schedule wouldn’t get any easier when he started his own firm, but at least he’d be able to pick and choose his clients and try to keep the travel to a minimum.

As soon as the wheels touched the ground, Jason dug his phone out of his briefcase and called home. The answering machine picked up after four rings. “Pace, honey, I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I just landed and I’ll be free to talk for the next half-hour if you get a chance to call. Love you, babe.”

His phone rang just as he got into the cab for the ride to the hotel. “The Hilton on Michigan,” he told the driver before saying hello to Pace. She sounded funny, although he could hardly hear through the jumble of talk radio the driver blared at top volume.

“I’m in the cab,” he explained when she asked where he was. “Sorry about this morning. I’m hoping to wrap this up as soon as possible and get back home by Wednesday.”

“Jason,” she cut him off. “The nurse from Dr. Hidel’s office called this morning. You’re not going to believe this. She said I’m pregnant.”

He knocked on the plastic partition between the front and back seat and asked the driver to turn the radio down. The cabbie lifted his hand in acknowledgment, but Jason didn’t register a change in the volume. Perhaps it was because his ears were ringing. “What?”

“The nurse from Dr. Hidel’s office said I’m pregnant.”

Cars swooped around the cab, their exhaust like small puffs of smoke from an old man’s cigar. The sky, gunmetal gray, promised showers later in the day. The driver nodded his head to whatever the commentator had just said. Everything seemed so normal, everything but what his wife had just told him.

“Pace…are you kidding?”

“No, Jason, I’m not kidding.” His perpetually happy wife, his little Tinker Bell, sounded annoyed. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of another baby, but her attitude came across loud and clear. “What do you think I do all day? Sit around and think of ways to throw you off stride?”

“Okay, okay, I’m just…” he swiped a clammy hand over his face, “…thrown off stride. I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I, but she said there’s no mistake. I’m sorry to spring this on you when you’re out of town, but I tried to talk to you this morning.”

“Jesus.” Of all the things he thought she’d be upset about, his leaving in such a rush, his falling asleep on the couch last night—again-, a problem with the boys, he never thought he’d hear those words come out of her mouth. No wonder she’d acted weird. “Well…” Shit, shit, shit. “What do we do?”

“The nurse said they don’t want to see me back until two weeks from now, but she suggested getting you checked out. Something obviously failed in terms of the vasectomy.”

“Ya think?” The cold from the cracked window seemed to have made its way to his bones and he pushed the button to close it. He blew out a big breath and tried to think as all his plans went up in smoke. Another responsibility was the absolute last thing he needed right now. “Okay, so I guess we’re having another baby.” He rubbed the pinpoint headache from his temple. “How do you feel?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice sounded tiny and very far away. HHe imagined her tapping away on something, the counter, her coffee mug, the wall. She tapped her fingers when she was nervous or upset. “Anxious and more than a little confused. How do you feel?”

About six feet under and wishing she’d gotten her tubes tied like he’d asked her to, but admitting his annoyance wouldn’t do any good right now. He wondered, for a fleeting second, if his father had felt this way when he’d heard the news of his unexpected arrival. “The same, I guess.” The cabbie hit the brakes with such force that the phone nearly slipped from his grasp. He fumbled for the seat belt he hadn’t bothered to put on. “Pace, I can’t deal with this right now.” He couldn’t fit the belt into the latch practically buried in the crevice of the seat despite repeated attempts. It could have been that his hands were shaking. “I’ve got to go before the cab driver kills me. Let me get through this meeting and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

On the other end he heard her sigh with frustration. She didn’t answer when he told her goodbye.

Jason looked out the window as the taxi exited the interstate and darted through the streets of Chicago. People passed on the sidewalks, bundled from head to toe with their heads ducked against the strong wind, going about their lives as if nothing had changed from the day before. For a moment he forgot where he was or why he was there. Pregnant? What the hell? The cab came to an abrupt halt in front of the Hilton. The valet opened his door and ushered him out into the chilly morning air. He could see the valet’s breath as he spoke, but didn’t hear a damn word he said. He paid the cab driver and watched him pull away with his briefcase and presentation tucked into the backseat where he’d left them.

Chapter Two

Tori Whitfield pulled a scarf from the retractable rack in her closet and had just tied it around her neck when she heard her husband come in from his workout. Colin had left early with a gym bag and a spring in his step he’d usually exude on a morning round of golf. When she peeked around the corner at him, he tossed the bag on the bed and sat down on the chaise by the bay window to unlace his shoes. Despite the color in his cheeks, every hair on his salt and pepper head was in place and he didn’t look as though he’d broken a sweat.

“How was your workout?” She gave herself major points for asking without sarcasm. After all these years, she hated her habit of analyzing everything he did or said, but his good mood made her more than a little suspicious.

“Great.” He stretched his stocking feet in front of him and folded his hands behind his head. “I should have listened to you and Pace years ago. There’s nothing like getting your heart pumping first thing in the morning.”

If only she and her daughter had more in common than their addiction to exercise. Tori watched Colin’s eyes drift closed as the sun streamed in from the window, casting him in golden light. From the smile on his face, she’d bet his heart hadn’t been the only thing pumping this morning. “I take it you’re happy with Matthew?”

He dropped his arms and sat up. “Didn’t I tell you? Matthew and I couldn’t sync our schedules, so he passed me on to Tricia. She’s a real ball buster.”

She tried to recall the trainer he’d referred to, but, other than the very effeminate Matthew, she couldn’t differentiate the girl he mentioned from the throngs of blonde beauties at the club who motivated their clients through sheer jealousy. She should have known Colin would find a way to get out of the birthday sessions she’d carefully arranged with the club’s only male trainer.

He moved into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower. The room quickly filled with steam. He poked his head out as Tori picked up her brush from the vanity. “I’m heading to Washington tomorrow for a meeting Trey’s arranged with Senator Billings. His endorsement, on the heels of his coup with the labor board, should put an end to any talk I’m anti-union.” He rubbed the shampoo onto his head and winked. “Wish me luck.”

He had real competition for his senate seat for the first time in years and he seemed more energized by it than discouraged. Her cynical mind couldn’t help but chalk his attitude up to residual cheer from his morning of “exercise.”

She stole a glance at him as he stepped out of the shower and wiped off the mirror. Still thin and impossibly handsome, a stranger would think that he was the one, not her, who ran three times a week for the past thirty years. Would anyone ever guess her friends had teased her for dating the shy boy with big dreams? Tori straightened her shoulders, sucked in her stomach, and tightened the tie on her belted cardigan. Father Time, it seemed, had caught up with only one of them.

In the bedroom, moments later, dressed in a suit and tie, Colin swooped behind her and kissed the back of her neck. She couldn’t help but notice his scent, soap and the sandalwood cologne he’d always worn. Desire, so unexpected and foolish, sprang to life.

“Will you be home for dinner?” She felt as though she had to beg for a sliver of his time.

“I’ll check my schedule and let you know.” With a grin and a pat to her bottom, he disappeared.

She took a deep breath and tried to be grateful that her busy schedule left little time to mope. She’d spearheaded the capital campaign for the children’s hospital and had committed to take an active role in the Junior League’s toy drive. With Colin’s campaign about to gear up, she wondered if she had it in her to play the part of the doting wife, especially after he’d stoked the flames of her insecurity with the trainer. Would she ever be able to relax without looking over her shoulder for trouble?

* * *

Pace took a brisk walk around the block with Cooper to calm down after Jason’s phone call. He couldn’t deal with this right now? Did he think she could deal with it alone? She hadn’t exactly gotten pregnant by herself. Maybe she should have waited until he’d gotten home, but she just couldn’t hold it in any longer. She had to tell someone and he’d have been angry if she’d told Sherry or…her mother before telling him.

Her mother. Pace couldn’t imagine what Tori would say when she found out. Her mother could barely tolerate the mess and noise of Pace’s life with two rambunctious boys. God only knew how she’d react when she heard they were having another baby. Maybe it would be a girl. Was it too much to hope the unplanned and highly unlikely pregnancy would give Pace the daughter she’d only imagined?

Pace spent the morning scouring the internet and discovered the rarity of a vasectomy’s spontaneous reversal. She had to wonder if not having sex very often made a woman more fertile. God knew if she and Jason were to have a surprise pregnancy, it should have been when they were in college and couldn’t go a day—heck an hour—without it and they weren’t necessarily all that careful about birth control. She pushed away from the screen when she realized the absurdity of thinking an unexpected pregnancy in college would have been better than now.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock at the side door. She looked around the kitchen as she made her way to the door. The morning’s breakfast dishes still sat in the sink and the laundry she’d pulled out of the dryer to fold sat atop the table. The puppy happily tore the newspaper to shreds in the den. She would’ve liked to blame the shock of the nurse’s call for causing her to let things slide around the house, but, truth be told, she’d been trudging through daily life for weeks. The pregnancy certainly explained her absentmindedness and lack of energy.

She spied her neighbor Sherry through the glass door, holding her toddler Katie on her hip. Great. The supermom whose house always looked Martha Stewart perfect got to see Pace at her worst.

“Hey.” Pace stepped aside to let her in.

Sherry entered the kitchen and glanced around at the mess. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Pace wanted to drag her to the table and tell her about the pregnancy, tell her about Jason’s unbelievable reaction, and let Sherry’s enthusiasm for babies ease the sting of the news. But she knew she couldn’t do that, at least not yet. “I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

“Sorry to interrupt, but I’m in a bit of a bind.” She set Katie down on the hardwood floor with a distinct look of distress at the state of the house. “I know you’re not interested in being room mom for Dillon’s class, but I just talked to Juliet and she said you’re helping out with Mitchell’s, so…I thought maybe you’d reconsider because I’m desperate?”

“Sherry…” She felt cornered. How could she say no to the woman who volunteered for everything, had less time than anybody else she knew, and still managed to make it all look easy? Pace didn’t have a crafty bone in her body and didn’t like having to beg overworked and cash-strapped parents for countless donations or favors.

“I know you don’t want to, Pace, but when I say desperate, I mean desperate. My sister’s moving to Charlotte with her boyfriend and, without my babysitter, I can’t get in the class too often. And you know how I’ve had to beg for parents just to answer my emails.”

If only room mom duties were all Pace had to worry about. She wouldn’t have any free time until their new little bundle of joy was in preschool—four years from now. “You know the only reason I said yes to Juliet is because she won’t take no for an answer. Isn’t there anyone else who can do it?”

Sherry followed Katie as she wobbled toward the sharp corners of Pace’s desk. “I came to you first. Will you just think about it?” She maneuvered Katie in another direction and then turned abruptly to face Pace. “What’s this?”

Oh, God. The corners of Sherry’s mouth tilted upward as she pointed at the computer screen and the pregnancy website Pace had stupidly left on display. Pace lunged for the desk and stepped between Sherry and the evidence of her predicament. “Ah…nothing.”

“Nothing?” The knowing glimmer in her eye told Pace she’d already placed bets on the due date. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

“Don’t be silly.” Pace lifted the pad of paper she’d jotted a few dates on and pressed it to her chest. For God’s sake, Pace, act natural. “I’m just doing some research for a potential client.” So much for her freelance career. She certainly wouldn’t have time to edit corporate communications projects while feeding an infant every two hours and chasing after a toddler.

Pace raised her brows, daring her friend to call her a liar. Sherry knew she’d been planning to do some work from home, which made her asking Pace to be room mom even more annoying. “Listen.” Pace clasped Sherry’s arm and turned her away from the computer. “I’ll think about it, but I really don’t have time. Please pester the other moms.”

“I’m not pestering you, Pace.”

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I’m a little out of sorts today. The kids missed the bus and I’ve got a mountain of stuff to do.” At least the state of her house confirmed the obvious. “You know I’ll do it if you can’t find someone else, but please try.”

“Okay, okay.” Sherry slung Katie onto her hip. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.” She plastered on a fake smile and gave Sherry a jaunty wave, all but confirming her status as the world’s worst liar. She watched Sherry walk back to her car and strap Katie into her seat. She knew as soon as they drove away Sherry would reach for her phone and start the rumor mill flowing. Great.

The puppy streaked by with little strips of newspaper hanging from his mouth. Pace gave a passing thought to wrestling the paper from his mouth and putting him outside, but decided she didn’t have the energy. As bad as Cooper behaved when the kids were in school and unable to wear him out, a baby would be a thousand times more work than the dog. She’d never planned to have a baby at thirty-five. Oh God, she thought, she’d probably have to have an amniocentesis. Pace hated needles.

She went back to the computer and after another internet search, felt thoroughly depressed. Her chances for miscarriage, birth defects, placenta previa, ectopic pregnancy, low birth weight, and a premature delivery were significantly higher now than five years ago when Mitchell was born a healthy eight pounds. She ordered herself to stop reading the internet and just think for a minute. Most of the kids’ friends had moms older than her. That meant most of them had had kids when they were over thirty-five. She thought about Mary Blisston, her neighbor with six kids, the youngest of whom was in preschool. Mary had to be well over forty. She was also overweight and exhausted all the time. Pace’s body had bounced back pretty well the last two times, but now that she was older… She sat back in the chair and stared up at the ceiling.

Just the thought of carrying a baby in the heat of the summer made her head spin despite the crisp November day. She dragged herself away from the computer and vowed not to look up any more pregnancy sites. If Jason could tuck this little grenade in a closet and deal with it later, so could she.

After dealing with the dishes and folding the laundry, she knelt down to begin picking up the newspaper bits and spotted an article about advancements in ultrasounds. Resigned, she plopped down in Jason’s favorite chair to read. Who was she kidding? Pace couldn’t believe she was pregnant, much less forget. As the parents in the article raved about the three dimensional images that allowed them to bond with their unborn baby, she realized she had to stop thinking so negatively. How could she even consider a pregnancy a ticking time bomb? She and Jason had created a life and she should feel thrilled to have another child with the man she loved. Just because he worked all the time and didn’t exactly sound overjoyed to hear she carried his darn-close-to-a-miracle love child didn’t mean they wouldn’t get past the shock. She crawled on her hands and knees searching the scraps for the end of the article, determined to keep a positive attitude, only to discover that Cooper had ransacked the magazine bin in the spare bath.

* * *

It took Jason two hours to track down the taxi that had his briefcase and another hour to wait while it was delivered. He didn’t know what he would have done if they hadn’t recovered his laptop and he practically kissed the driver who handed it back. After he’d downed two rolls of antacids, the taxi pulled up to the client’s building with just enough time for them to say the partners had another meeting and he’d have to reschedule.

When he finally made it back to the hotel, he guzzled a twelve-dollar mini bottle of Jack Daniels and tried to find a silver lining. The only thing he could come up with was that the delay had probably saved him from stumbling through his presentation. Between the stress of recovering his laptop and Pace’s announcement, he couldn’t sell beer to an underage college student, much less a multi-million dollar project he’d spent months of his life creating.

Fuck. He’d planned for the bonus check from securing this, his biggest deal to date, to help set him free from Tarks, but all the missteps put him firmly back under his thumb. His boss had even threatened to fly up for Wednesday’s meeting to smooth things over with the client. The thought of him swooping in and taking control of the deal Jason had orchestrated meant he’d spend half the night tightening his presentation to ensure Tarks wouldn’t hop on a plane and take over. And then it hit him. With another baby on the way, he couldn’t possibly leave the security of his job to start his own firm. He was barely present to raise the kids they had now and the long hours and financial constraints inherent to a risky venture wasn’t an option when they’d have medical bills, diapers, and another mouth to feed.

He just didn’t understand how Pace could be pregnant. Even the painful, anxiety-inducing procedure he’d endured years ago couldn’t derail his potent little swimmers. As much as he wanted to joke about his virility, he couldn’t feel proud of his sperm when a new baby changed everything.

After a hot shower where he thought long and hard about his options, he called the real estate agent handling the farm. “Don,” Jason said with a throat clearing cough. The bourbon had done just enough to make his stomach queasy. “It’s Jason Kelly.”

“Jason. I was fixin’ to call you in the mornin’. I tracked down Billy Miller this afternoon. I think he’s gonna accept your offer without a counter. I expect to hear from him by tomorrow at the latest. He’s pretty eager to get this thing wrapped up by the end of the year.”

Just when Jason thought he couldn’t feel any worse. “Listen, Don, things have changed. I’m going to have to back out of the deal.”

For a moment he couldn’t hear anything but Don’s exhalation of breath and the squeak of his office chair. Jason pictured him, leaning back with his feet up on the scarred metal desk, some retired bird dog snoring away under the window. “Why? You know how long we’ve had this thing listed and with the economy the way it is…” With a final squeak of his chair he closed the deal. “Son, I don’t reckon you’d get this good a deal for at least as long as it takes for the market to improve—whenever that may be, God willing and the creek don’t rise.”

Jason smiled at Don’s expression. Pace had once said everyone from South Georgia spoke in parables. He’d take stories any day over the snob speak of her childhood friends. “I was hoping to use the money for something specific and the opportunity, well, it’s not available anymore. It won’t be for awhile. I’m afraid if I sell now, I’ll end up pissing the money away.”

“Jason, if you don’t sell now, there’s a chance you never will. Truth be told, son, Belton’s a dying town. A few years from now you might not be able to give it away.”

So Jason reluctantly agreed to move forward with the contract, if Billy Miller contacted Don like he expected, and let another part of his dream slip away. Jason took several calming breaths before reclining on the bed to call Pace. Hearing the commotion on the other end did little to soothe his nerves. The puppy had ransacked the house and done a number on Dillon’s favorite stuffed animal, so things weren’t going so well there either. He and Pace could barely talk with the kids interrupting every five minutes with fights and “emergencies” that couldn’t wait until she was off the phone. He could tell by her terse, one-word answers she was still pissed—as pissed as his wife could get. Then she told him to hang on, shut herself in some confined space, the pantry or the hall bath he imagined, and told him that she’d decided to look at the pregnancy as a little gift from God.

“Sometimes the best things in life happen when you’re not looking,” she whispered in the Sunday school voice he teased her for when she got on her moral high horse. “You and I are classic examples of that being true.” When he didn’t answer, she said, “I know you’re upset about this, Jason, but I can’t be disappointed that our love made a baby.”

And just like that, she reminded him of everything he loved about her and everything he hated about himself. He knew he should feel excited, but he couldn’t seem to feel anything but pissed that he was stuck in a job that sucked the life out of him. “You’re right, honey. Just give me a few days for it to sink in.” He needed to buck up and deal with reality, because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he let his kid think he didn’t want it. Going through life like that, like a big fat mistake your parents made, was no way to live. He could certainly attest to that.

He spent all day Wednesday in meetings. First the CFO, then the CEO, then the Board of Directors. He felt so tired by the time he dragged himself back to the hotel after dinner and drinks with a few of the guys that he fell directly into bed and didn’t see the flashing message light on the room’s phone. He forgot to take his phone off vibrate and it kept going off through the night. Or at least until midnight, he realized the next morning when he scrolled through the calls he’d missed from Pace. Three. Guess she’d given up and gone to bed.

He caught her first thing Thursday morning. He could hear the boys fighting over who got the biggest bowl of Choco Crunchies as she clipped her answers off in the exasperated tone she usually reserved for her mother.

“I told you I forgot to check my messages, Pace. I don’t know what else you want me to say.”

She sighed and in it he heard all the ways he’d let her down. “I guess hearing I’m pregnant hasn’t thrown you for a loop the way it has me.”

“Why do you think I left my briefcase in the cab? You’d just dropped the little bomb and I couldn’t even think straight.” He rubbed the now throbbing pulse in his temple. He needed to calm down. This wasn’t her fault. It was nobody’s fault and getting mad at her wouldn’t do anything but make him feel guilty. “Look, I know a baby is not a little bomb and it’s not a disaster. You’re right—it’s a blessing. Hell, it’s a damn miracle, but I need to concentrate on business right now so I can get home and we can deal with this, okay? I’m not saying it hasn’t hit me, but I’m trying to keep it at bay so I can do my job and get back.”

After a long pause where he knew she reined in her rare show of temper, she said, “I don’t want to fight about this, Jason. I just want you to come home.”

“I do too. I already changed my flight to Friday. I’ll be home by dinner.”