Christine Rimmer - Christmas at Bravo Ridge

What now? She set the mug on the night stand.

“I don’t suppose you’re on the pill or anything?”

On the pill…

Corrine’s stomach did the strangest thing. It lurched, hard. As if the bottom had just dropped out of her world. She carefully smoothed the edge of the sheet over the blankets. Until he’d asked that question, she’d thought things couldn’t get much worse.

Wrong.

She’d not only had sex with him when she was engaged to someone else, she’d had unprotected sex with him.

“Corrie, did you hear me?”

“Of course I heard you.”

“Well?”

“No,” she made herself admit. “I’m not on the pill. Or anything.”

Matt said some swearwords. Several. “It’s déjà vu all over again.”

“What are you talking about?” She demanded, as if she didn’t know.

“It’s how you got pregnant with Kira.”

She wanted to throw something at him, just for saying that out loud. “I’m not pregnant.”

“How can you be sure? What about that Plan B thing they have now? Maybe you should—”

“Take my word for it. I don’t need to load my body up with a bunch of hormones.”

“Corrie…”

“It’s the wrong time of the month, okay?” And, oh, she was so very glad about that. Her cycles had always been regular, her period right on time, every twenty-eight days. Her period had ended Saturday. Last time, with Kira, it had been the right time of the month. And there had been no Plan B back then. This time, there was nothing to worry about—except for how rotten, disloyal and irresponsible she’d been.

“You do seem certain.” He looked relieved. She nodded. Firmly. “I promise you, Matt. I’m not pregnant.”

Armadillo Rose was closed Sundays and Mondays. But there were bills to pay, orders to make and deliveries to take. Corrine went to the bar at eleven that morning and stayed till three. While she worked, she kept seeing Bob’s kind face, those soft brown eyes of his, his warm, generous smile that could light up a dark room, his gentle voice, the way he always knew to say just the right thing.

She called Matt on his cell before she left the Rose. “I kept Kira in day care today. Can you pick her up at five at the school? I would ask Sandra to do an extra night, but she’s in Dallas visiting her mom until tomorrow.” Sandra Yee sat with Kira four nights a week while Corrine worked and was usually willing to take an extra night now and then.

“No problem.” He didn’t even ask what was going on. He’d probably already guessed. “You want me to keep her overnight?”

“No. I’ll come and get her later, by nine or so at the latest. If that’s okay?”

“I’m on it. No worries.”

No worries. She wished.

She started to call Bob next. But she stopped mid-dial. Barring some emergency, he would be in his office at home, beginning work on his message for next Sunday’s services. She decided she would just go to him.

In no time, it seemed, she was pulling into his street on the far west side, an area of starter homes not far from Lackland Air Force Base. She parked at the curb and went up the concrete walk, half hoping he wouldn’t be home, that something might have come up to make him change his routine: a parishioner in need of counseling, an unexpected meeting of one committee or another. Which made her not only a cheater, but a coward as well, longing for any excuse to put off telling him what he needed to know.

But she got no reprieve. When she knocked, he answered, his face lighting up with a big smile of welcome. “Corrine. What a surprise.”

She gulped. “If it’s a bad time…”

“Are you kidding? I’m always happy to be interrupted by you. Especially today.” Mondays were the worst for him, when he started on a new message for the next week.

“Having trouble with the sermon?”

“Yeah. I’m a little stuck, I confess. I get this feeling sometimes that I’ve already said all I have to say on a topic.”

“You say that every week.”

“And it’s true every week.”

“You’ll think of something. You always do. Your sermons are wonderful.”

He beamed. “How is it you always make me feel that I can do anything?”

She beamed back. Or she tried to. “What’s the topic?”

“Sin and forgiveness.”

She wanted to sink through the front step, just melt right down through the concrete all the way to the other side of the world. She babbled inanely, “Ah. Forgiveness. Well…”

“Come on in.” He stepped back. Reluctantly, she moved forward. When he canted his face toward her for a kiss, she wanted to blurt it all out right then and there. But she said nothing, only brushed her lips against his, feeling like Judas at the Last Supper. Or maybe Cain stabbing Abel. He offered, “Want some coffee?”

“Uh, no. Thanks. I just, well, I needed to talk to you.”

“Anytime. Always.” He led her into the living room and sat next to her on the striped brown and tan couch. He took her hand between both of his. “Now. What’s up?”

Gently, she pulled her hand free. “I…” God. Where to begin? How to tell this kind, gentle, trusting man that she’d gotten drunk last night and ended up in bed with Matt?

He touched her hair, one light stroke and then he pulled away. “Corrine. Are you all right?”

There was no use in stalling. It was cruel enough, what she’d done. This stuttering around over it was only compounding the awfulness.

She opened her mouth. “I…” And it came out all in a rush, one long ugly word. “IhadsexwithMattlastnight.”

Bob said nothing. For the longest time he only stared at her, uncomprehending. Finally, he whispered, “No.”

She bit her lip. Hard. And she nodded. “Yeah. I did. It was…” Excuses tumbled over themselves inside her head. I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was doing. I don’t know how it happened…

Corrine didn’t say any of them. There was no excuse. She’d done wrong. Way wrong. Period.

Softly, he prompted, “It was what?”

She closed her eyes, shook her head. “All my fault. My…decision.”

A long silence. At last he said, “I see.”

She shook her head, hard. “No. No, I don’t think you do. You’re a wonderful man. A truly good man. You would never do something like that to me.”

“Corrine…” His voice trailed off.

She watched his face, read his expression. He was trying to think of something gentle and wise to say. She spoke first. “It’s not going to work with us, is it, Bob? We’re not right for each other. You need a nicer girl than I’ll ever be. And I need…oh, I’m not sure. But if what I needed was you, I would never have done what I did. I’m only sorry I couldn’t have figured all this out in a more…dignified way.” She took off her engagement ring and set it on the coffee table. And then she left.

He didn’t try to stop her.

Outside, she got in her car and just sat for a while, staring blindly out the windshield at the pale blue sky. When she finally got around to starting up the engine and driving away, the dashboard clock said ten after four. She could have called Matt and told him he was off the hook, that she would pick up Kira after all.

But she didn’t. She went home and made tea. Her mom had always loved a hot cup of tea. Earl Grey had been her mom’s favorite, so Corrine had Earl Grey. She drizzled honey into it, just like Kathleen would have done. And then she sipped it slowly, staring at Kira’s stickfigure drawings taped to the refrigerator, thinking of all the lovely single women at New Life Unification Church who would now get their chance at nice Pastor Bob.

It was the right thing to do, baby.