C.J. Carmichael - For a Baby

In June the original home had been razed and work started shortly thereafter. Since school had let out for the summer, Russ had worked with his contractor and his crew, his son often by his side.

“Hey there, Ms. Sweeney.”

Heather waved at the boys. Of course, their calls alerted Russell to her and Adrienne’s presence. She tried not to feel self-conscious when he smiled around the nail in his mouth and raised his hammer in salute.

Worried Adrienne might attempt to start a conversation, Heather gave her friend a shove at the small of her back. “Keep pedaling. Your family’s going to be starving by the time we get there.”

Sunday was the one day of the week when Adrienne closed her beauty salon. Her husband and kids were already across the lake at a ball game. Heather and Adrienne were supposed to meet them with a picnic dinner of fried chicken and potato salad, but those plans had been sidelined when Adrienne decided to give Heather an impromptu manicure—which Heather considered a waste of time. In twenty-four hours the polish would be chipped and she’d have broken at least one nail. But Adrienne, once her mind was fixed on something, could be difficult to dissuade. So instead of the chicken feast they’d planned, they had ham and cheese sandwiches in their saddlebags, fresh brownies and fruit.

“My family will survive another fifteen minutes.” Still, Adrienne pushed off from the curb and the two friends cycled in tandem down the quiet street. They passed the kids playing soccer and were soon out of town, winding their way along graveled Willow Road.

Heather thought of the last picnic she’d had across the lake. T.J. had been avoiding her since. She didn’t blame him. She still groaned whenever she thought about how she’d practically begged him to make an honest woman out of her. She’d really put her pride on the line. Talk about embarrassing.

Somehow Heather’s parents had heard about her dinner at T.J.’s apartment and been full of questions. They knew T.J., of course.

Heather had made light of the dinner, refusing to call it a date, all the while realizing that one of these days, she’d have to tell them T.J. was the father of her baby. First she’d have to tell them she was pregnant again.

As if reading her thoughts, Adrienne picked that moment to ask, “Seen anything of T.J. lately?”

Heather grunted.

“I stopped in the other day to buy a new chain for Davey’s bike. If you ask me, he looked like a man with a lot on his mind.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I still think you two should get married. In my opinion—”

“Adrienne. Give up on it already, would you?”

She sighed. “Well, you’re going to have to do something. And soon. You won’t be able to keep your pregnancy a secret much longer.”

Heather felt her friend’s eyes on her waistline. Self-conscious, she sucked in her stomach. “Am I showing?”

“Not really. Though your bust is even bigger than usual—lucky you.” Adrienne had a pear-shaped body, with slim shoulders and small breasts. She’d tried every exercise program she’d ever heard of to try to redistribute her weight, to no success.

Rounding the final curve in Willow Road, they cycled past a family pulling their motorboat out of the lake. From the baseball diamonds on the right came the distinctive hollering and cheering of a good-natured game. A small crowd was gathered on the bleachers behind the fence at home base. Heather spotted ten-year-old Davey in left field. He smacked his fist into his glove, then waved at them.

“Why don’t you watch the end of the game?” Heather suggested. “I’ll see if I can nab one of the picnic tables on the hill behind the concession stand.” They’d have a view of the lake up there, and with all the trees, some privacy, too.

“Sounds good.” Adrienne veered off the road on her mountain bike, already hollering at the umpire who’d just walked the last batter.

Heather kept pedaling past the other ball diamonds, where yet more kids were engrossed in the last innings of their games. She passed the concession stand, waving at Herb who was scooping ice cream for the twins who’d be in her class next year. Coward that she was, she snuck past the boys hoping they wouldn’t waylay her. She wanted to nab that table….

The hill was steep and she eventually had to get off her bike and start pushing it up the incline. She passed a couple necking in a discreetly shaded area, and wondered if it wasn’t Karen and Ryan again.

Funny how fast time went by. It didn’t seem that long ago that she and Russell were the ones making out at the lake.

But it was a long time ago. She had to stop letting every little thing remind her of those happy, carefree days. Maybe if she’d moved away from Chatsworth forgetting would have been easier. But Heather couldn’t imagine leaving the small town where she’d grown up.

She was huffing now. At least the picnic table was free. She could see it, tucked into a clearing, surrounded by poplars. There was one other table up here, off to the right and down a little. Maybe she could grab that one, too, so that the kids and their friends—

“Oh.”

T.J. was sitting on the second table, his feet planted on the bench, an open book in his hands. He was at least as surprised to see her as she was to spot him.

“Heather?”

She dropped her bike to the grass. “That’s some hill.”

He eyed her midriff and frowned. “Should you be doing something so strenuous?”

“I’m fine.” She put a hand on her hip, wishing she didn’t need to draw a breath after every word she spoke and that her T-shirt wasn’t clinging to her chest with perspiration. Sunday was also the one day of the week when T.J. closed the hardware. Just her luck to find him up here.

“So what are you doing? Besides taking your bike for a stroll?”

“Looking for a picnic spot.” If you must know. “Adrienne and her family are joining me after Davey’s ball game. But I don’t want to disturb you.” She bent to retrieve her bike, not looking forward to having his eyes on her as she wheeled the darn thing back down the hill.

“What’s wrong with that table?” He pointed to the free one she’d originally planned to stake.

“You’re reading. We’ll be noisy. I’ll see if there are any free tables by the playground.” It wouldn’t be as scenic, but at least she wouldn’t have to endure the scrutiny of the man who’d spurned her proposal of marriage.

Oh, why had she thought about that? She could feel the backs of her ears start to burn.

“Put the bike down, Beatrice.”

Heather chafed at his use of her middle name. For some reason he’d latched onto it on her very first day of grade one when the teacher had been doing a very thorough job of roll call.

T.J. jumped to the ground and took the handlebars from her. He pushed the bike to a tree and chained it up so it wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing with my bike?”

“Don’t be so damn stubborn. Take the picnic table. Take both of them. I was about to leave, anyway.”

“It didn’t look like you were planning to leave.”

T.J. glanced up into the branches of a nearby tree and spoke as if to someone he saw hiding there. “Even when I try to be nice to her, it doesn’t work.”

“Your definition of nice doesn’t jibe with my definition of the word.” She thought of all the teasing she’d endured. She didn’t think he’d meant to be mean. But some days she had truly dreaded being in the same classroom as him. “It never has.”

“You’ve always been tough enough to take it.”

Under his observation she could almost feel her waistline and boobs expanding. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Told anyone yet?” he asked.