Robyn Carr - Paradise Valley

Without reply, she pulled her wrist from his grasp and exited the car. Cam watched her walk up the porch and into the house. He sat for a moment, took a deep breath and turned on the dome light to look at his watch. Just after six-thirty. Mel was on call tonight until he checked in, and there were seldom any calls. Doc Mullins had managed a forty-year practice on one whiskey at the end of the day and Cam needed one. Bad.

He turned around and headed for Jack’s.

Abby walked into Vanni’s house and leaned her back against the closed front door. Vanni and Paul were in the great room, both of them on the floor with the baby. She looked at the scene of domestic tranquility and burst into tears.

Paul and Vanni were both instantly on their feet.

“Oh my God,” Vanni said, rushing to her, Paul on her heels. “Was the ultrasound all right?”

“Beautiful. Dr. Stone said they’re perfect.”

“Why in the world are you crying?”

“I had a fight with Cam,” she said, tears running down her cheeks, her words caught on a sob.

“Cam?” Paul asked, confused.

“I was upset. He got all teary when he saw the ultrasound—one of them is for sure a boy. I hated that he got emotional in front of John Stone and I lost my temper.”

“Oh, Abby…”

“He got emotional?” Paul repeated, more confused. “Cameron?”

“Vanni—I called him a sperm donor! I was so mean.”

“Oh, Abby!”

“Sperm donor?” Paul said, totally lost.

“He laid it out for me, very seriously. Angrily. He’s not getting out of my way on this. He’s going to be a problem—as if I don’t have enough problems.” She leaned toward Vanni and wept on her shoulder. “He said he can’t make me like him, but he won’t let me take the babies away from him!”

“Like him?” Paul said. “Babies? What the hell’s going on here?”

Vanni looked over her shoulder at Paul. “Cameron’s the father—don’t tell anyone.”

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Abby stressed tearfully.

Paul was quiet for a long moment while Vanni just held Abby, comforting her. Finally he found his voice. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I didn’t mean to be so hostile,” Abby wept. “Maybe it’s pregnancy.”

“Sure it is, honey,” Vanni comforted.

“Wait a minute,” Paul attempted. “Wait a minute here.”

“Long story, Paul,” Vanni said. “Just don’t tell anyone. I’ll explain later, okay?”

“But I thought they just met!” Paul said.

“Obviously they didn’t just meet. Don’t be a dimwit. I’ll tell you about it later, after Abby gets calmed down.”

Paul turned away from them and went to pick little Matt up from the floor where he played. “Must be a long story,” he muttered. “Very, very long. Say, about five months long?”

“Abby, you’re going to have to apologize,” Vanni was saying. “You can’t be like that to him. I mean, you don’t have to be in love with him or anything, but you have to be civil. He has his rights. And he’s not a bad guy. In fact, he’s a very good guy.”

“I know, I know. It just got under my skin that I’m in charge of carrying these babies and giving birth to them and I still have no control! None! I just lost it.”

“Well, when you tell him that, everything will be—”

“Um, ladies?” Paul said from behind them. “You’re going to be at this a while, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Paul,” Vanni said. “Sorry.”

“Oh God,” Abby erupted. “You were going to have sex! You were alone for the first time in forever and were going to have sex, and I came home early and ruined everything.”

“It’s all right, baby,” Vanni said. “We can have sex anytime.”

Paul ran a hand around the back of his neck. “Well, actually…” Having sex at all around here was a lucky shot, with a baby, a houseguest and the general popping in, something that would be happening more now, with Muriel out of town. Anytime was pure fiction.

Paul pushed little Matt at Vanni. “Know what? I’m going to step out for a while. Go have a cup of coffee with Jack or something. You two get yourselves settled down. Hmm?”

“Sure,” Vanni said, taking charge of the baby. “Probably a good idea.”

As Paul was going out the door, Vanni was asking Abby, “Have you eaten, honey? Let me get you a little something to eat and we can talk about this.”

Cameron walked into Jack’s and found at least a dozen people at different tables finishing up dinner. He sat up at the bar.

“Hey, Doc,” Jack greeted, slapping a napkin down. “How’s it going?”

“Great,” Cameron said unenthusiastically. “Can I have a scotch? Neat. Something good. Good and powerful.”

“Sure. Long day?” Jack asked as he turned to select a label that might do the trick.

“It got long. Don’t worry—I’ll have some dinner and coffee and take your wife off the hook for on-call.”

“We have that all worked out, Doc. But I thought you had dinner out with Abby tonight.”

“That didn’t exactly work out.”

Jack laughed. “That should thrill Paul. He had the idea he was going to be alone with his wife.”

“Yeah, well, it was beyond my control,” Cameron said. “Believe me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Dandy,” he said. He lifted his drink. “Swell.”

Cameron hadn’t even sipped his drink when Paul walked in. He sat next to Cam and put his elbows on the bar. “What you got there?” he asked Cameron.

“Scotch.”

“Gimme a Crown. Same recipe,” Paul said to Jack.

Jack got down a glass and poured. “I could’ve sworn you had plans for the evening,” he said to Paul.

“I thought so,” he said. He lifted his glass and took a drink. “But then Abby came home, having some kind of emotional crisis, and Vanni got all hooked up in that.” Paul glared briefly at Cameron. “Lots of crying. Carrying on.”

Cameron turned toward him. “I did not do anything to bring that on,” he said rather harshly. “I was completely courteous. Thoughtful. I was wonderful.”

“I know that,” Paul said. “I gather she brought it on herself. She said she lost her temper. Said some rude things. Mean things.” He sipped. “You’re gonna have to let it go, man. Cut her some slack. For being pregnant and out of her mind. You know?”

Jack was leaning on the bar, listening closely to this conversation that was, thankfully, not overheard by other dinner customers. Only Paul and Cameron were at the bar.

“I handled it the best way I could,” Cameron said.

“She said she feels like she has to do everything—having the babies and everything—and feels like she has no control.”

“She has no control?” Cameron asked hotly. Then he laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, well, she’s feeling real bad about it now.”

“Is that so?” Cameron said. “Well, guess what? I feel real bad about what she said, too.” Then he looked back into his drink and sulked.

“Come on,” Jack said. “What the hell could she have said?”

Cameron looked up from his drink. “She called me an unkind name.”

Jack laughed at him. “Well, you’re a big boy. What could a little pregnant girl call you that would get you so riled up?”

“Never mind. It’s over.”

“How about—sperm donor,” Paul supplied.

Cameron shot Paul an angry look. “Way to go, dipshit. Anybody ever tell you you have a big mouth?”

“When Vanni said not to tell, I didn’t think she meant you. I mean, you know. Right?”

Cameron glanced at Jack.

“Don’t worry about Jack,” Paul said. “He doesn’t talk. Well, he does, but when he has specific orders not to, he can manage to keep his mouth shut.”