Brenda Novak - Expectations

“It’s nothing,” he replied at last, shoving himself to his feet. Jenna was still in the dining room, drawing him back. When she was around, the last thing he wanted to think about was San Francisco or his career.

“Are we ready for ice cream yet?”

AFTER DINNER, Jenna made Ryan do some reading at the table while Mrs. Durham helped her with the dishes; Adam went to pick up a video. Dinner had been delicious, but she hadn’t been able to eat more than a few bites. The roast beef, carrots and potatoes with gravy she’d swallowed churned in her stomach as a bout of nausea visited her early tonight.

“Mom, what’s this word?”

Jenna took a deep breath and looked down at the book her son held out to her. She helped him sound out familiarity, read the word in context, then kissed his cheek.

“You like Adam, don’t you?” she asked.

“He’s cool. I can see why Dad would hang out with him when they were kids. Adam says they used to go bodysurfing in the ocean all the time.”

All the time before she and Adam got together. After that there was nothing but enmity between the two young men.

“I’m sure you’ll do plenty of that yourself in a few years,” she said.

“So we’re going to stay in one place for a while?”

Jenna mussed his hair. “I’ve told you we’re going to be here until I’m old and gray. What, do you want me to sign a blood oath?” She gave him a reassuring smile. Her son had experienced enough emotional distress in his eight years. She wouldn’t uproot him again. Dennis had moved them five times in the past twenty-four months. Each time he lost his job he dragged them to another Oregon city to “start over.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s no sacrifice, love. I like it here, too.”

Adam returned with the video, and Jenna lost her son to his innate charm, which was surpassed only by the promise of an ice-cream sundae.

“Mom? Do you want one?” Ryan asked, helping Adam dish it out.

The thought of more food, of any kind, was almost enough to send Jenna running for the bathroom. “No, thanks. I ate too much at dinner.”

Adam glanced up and caught her eye, giving her a searching look, but she dried her hands on the towel, hung it under the cupboard and excused herself.

“I’ll spend another hour or so in my studio, then I’ll go to bed early,” she said.

Ryan’s face registered disappointment. “You’re not watching the movie with us?”

“Not tonight, honey.”

“Mom, are you all right? Are you sick or something?”

Jenna shook her head. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

“You go and get some rest, Jenna dear,” Mrs. Durham said, carrying a dish of ice cream to her husband, who was already sitting in front of the television. “And don’t worry about getting up early. We have no reservations for tomorrow night. I’ve given Pamela the day off, and Mr. Robertson will be coming in later than usual, just in time to start dinner. I was hoping Adam would take us all for a drive along the highway. It’s been months since I’ve been anywhere fun. Would you like to come along?”

Jenna declined politely. Highway 1 followed the coast and made her carsick even when she wasn’t feeling nauseated to begin with. “It will be nice for you to get out. I’ll look after the place while you’re away. Sorry to miss out on the movie tonight,” she added, and hurried upstairs to get her sweater before going to her studio through the back door. She needed to escape her son’s hero worship of her old boyfriend—and from that same man’s unsettling presence.

A ROILING STOMACH woke Jenna long after everyone else had gone to bed. She darted across the hall, stopping only long enough to lock the door behind her, and bent over the toilet just in time.

Damn. She had to be pregnant. What other reason could there be for this regular sickness?

Remembering the incident at the grocery store earlier, she groaned and smacked her forehead with her palm. She’d been tempted to invent another excuse to get away later in the day, but she feared Adam would guess what she was doing. So she’d made herself wait. He would leave in a day or two, probably on Sunday, and she’d be free to do what she wanted. Certainly she could wait that long.

The shrill ring of the telephone broke the silence, and Jenna stiffened. Dennis! It had to be him. Only he would call so late.

She got to her feet and tried to launch herself from the bathroom before he could wake the whole house, but the ringing stopped before she unlocked the door. She waited, wondering if he’d call back, but heard nothing more. Slumping down to sit on the floor, she stared miserably at the yellow-and-blue-flowered wallpaper with its contrasting border until she felt strong enough to stand again.

Was she safe to leave the bathroom and go back to bed now?

She thought so.

Using the lip of the counter to help her rise, she brushed her teeth and washed her face, taking the time to rub some peach-scented lotion on her arms and legs. Then, switching off the light, she opened the door and headed to her room.

A male voice at her elbow startled her. She tried to scream, but a hand clamped over her mouth, and she felt herself being pulled against a solid chest. “Shh, you’ll wake Gram and Pop. It’s only me.”

“Adam, what are you doing up?” she whispered as soon as he released her.

With a hand on her arm, he propelled Jenna into her room. “Are you the only one with a night-owl permit? Shut the door and turn on the light.”

Confused, Jenna closed the door behind her and did as he asked, belatedly realizing her near nakedness. Crossing her arms in front of the spaghetti-strap tank top that did little to conceal her breasts, she glared at him. “You nearly scared me to death!”

He grinned. “Since I’m not wearing any athletic protection, that could have been very dangerous.”

Jenna’s eyes glided over him. He wasn’t wearing much of anything. A thatch of dark hair covered his broad chest and narrowed down to his navel, disappearing beneath the pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. His feet were bare. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing?”

He lifted something for her to see. “Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of stalker. I was just trying to give you this. I didn’t think you’d want the whole house to know.”

Jenna’s eyes dropped to the square object he held in one hand. She blinked. It was the First Choice Pregnancy Test she’d tried to buy at the grocery store.

COULDN’T ANYTHING go right? Jenna stared at the box for several seconds before working up the nerve to accept it with a simple thank you. She tried to smile, to ease the awkwardness of the moment, but she didn’t have it in her and could only hope she didn’t look as miserable as she felt.

“Dennis?” he asked.

Jenna almost nodded before she pictured Adam counting back the months—and wondering why the hell she’d slept with her ex after their divorce was final. Rape by someone she’d lived with for years wasn’t an easy thing to explain, and she had no intention of trying. She was enough of a pity case already.

“No,” she said. “I met the guy not long after Dennis and I split up. It was…just a one-night stand. It didn’t mean anything.”

Adam’s brows drew close. “You had unprotected sex with a stranger?”

Jenna raised her chin. “I didn’t exactly plan it, all right? It’s not like I carry something in my purse, hoping to get lucky. Are you saying you’ve never done anything like that?”

“No, I haven’t.” His steadfast gaze was difficult to meet, making Jenna wonder if the truth wouldn’t have been less painful, after all.

“Besides, even if I took a different woman to bed every night, it wouldn’t be the same,” he added.