Bachelor Mother (10 page)

The next move has to be up to her. Don’t push things – just be there for her if she needs you.

* * *

Several days passed and Mel saw almost nothing of Bubba. Where before she’d thought nothing of running over to borrow anything from the right kind of screwdriver to a specific seasoning, now she didn’t want to bother him.

Something had changed. It had crept up on her without her knowing it and it saddened her. Some instinct, deep inside, made her sense there would be no going back. She and Bubba would never totally regain the easygoing friendship they’d shared before.

A part of her was saddened by the fact. But then when she thought about what had happened inside his bedroom that night, how he'd awakened her to the knowledge of what her woman’s body was exquisitely formed for, she knew she'd never want to go back in time.

Where does that leave us?  
she wondered, during the times she thought of him. She kept herself busy, knitting more than her usual quota of sweaters, rearranging the boutique, taking on extra hours in part because she didn’t want to let Alicia down, become less than a working partner. Mel didn’t want her pregnancy to interfere with her business or her working friendship with Alicia. She didn’t want to stick her friend with all the work, claim that having a child made her unable to contribute.

But most of her busyness was to keep thoughts of Bubba at bay.

Nights were the hardest, knowing he was just next door as she lay in bed and played that incredible night over in her mind. Why hadn’t Phillip treated her the way Bubba had? If he had, she was sure they’d be married by now and she’d be pregnant. While Phillip had brought out the worst in her, Bubba had brought out the best.

She’d never thought of herself as a passionate woman but he’d proved her wrong. She’d been hiding in her own body, refusing to acknowledge something as basic to her nature as the features on her face. So if she didn’t burn in bed, toss and turn and yearn for him – still she lay awake at nights and wondered what her life would have been like if Bubba had never shown her lovemaking could be different. She could have gone her whole life never knowing and that thought horrified her. Her life would have been less.

She thought, too, about the other women in his life and realized she had quite a possessive nature. Jealousy crept in slowly, disgusting her. She’d always prided herself on the objectivity of her emotions, but nothing was quite as she’d thought it was whenever her thoughts turned to Bubba.

* * *

He wondered if she thought of him.

“You’re a damn poor substitute, Henry,” Bubba said one night as both of them lay on his king-sized bed watching
Romancing the Stone
. Joanie had lent him her DVD, claiming most women wanted to be swept off their feet and he could pick a worse role model than Michael Douglas in such a classic role. He’d laughed – but he was watching it just the same.

“So what do you think, Hen, should I attach a vine to that palm tree outside and swing over to her deck?”

Henry didn’t reply. He was busy playing with a piece of popcorn, batting it between his paws.

“What good are you if you can’t give me any advice?” Bubba asked, ruffling the fur between Henry’s ears. He was the damnedest animal. He liked being treated like a dog more than a cat. Bubba still remembered telling Mel about that. She’d laughed, claiming pets reflected the people who owned them.

“And what does that make me?” he’d asked her, teasing.

“Strange.” When she’d seen the mock-hurt expression on his face, she’d laughed again and said, “Individualistic, I meant.”

I’d give anything to go back to the way we were.
He was having trouble concentrating on the movie. Every time Kathleen Turner looked up at Michael Douglas, he remembered the look in Mel’s eyes when he’d walked into the bedroom.

Like hell you would.
He’d surprised himself that night. It was as if both of them had shed the protective outer covering they showed the world and exposed their most emotional feelings.

He knew she was embarrassed. In the past, before that incredible night, it was rare to have three days go by without their seeing each other. Now it had been almost a week and she still hadn’t come by.

Maybe letting her make the first move is the wrong idea,
he thought. Then he shook his head. He couldn’t push her. He had to let her make the decision that was right for her. More than anything, he didn’t want to hurt her.

The film was nearing its end. He watched as Kathleen Turner fought to save herself from the pit of alligators.

“Maybe that’s it, Hen. We could ship in an alligator and put you next to it, then when I rush out and save you, Mel would realize – ” He stopped talking as he heard the raspy sound of Henry’s tongue. The cat had his head stuck inside the almost empty popcorn bowl and was licking up what remained of the butter. There was an occasional crunch as he found a kernel of popcorn.

“A big help you are.” He tweaked one of the animal’s back paws and Henry jumped, startled. “Maybe I’d let that gator have you for lunch. It would cut down on my cat chow bill considerably.”

Henry stared at him, then lowered his head into the bowl again.

Bubba returned his attention to the movie until it finally ended with both hero and heroine sailing away into the sunset. When the credits rolled, he turned off the DVD.

Lying back in bed, he closed his eyes.

Why can’t real life work out as neatly as the movies?

Because God is not that clever a screenwriter.

He sighed. It surprised him how he missed Mel’s head against his shoulder. He hadn’t changed his sheets since their night together, enjoying her faint scent clinging to the bed linen. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend she was with him.

Wait for the wind sock. She’ll let you know how she feels. Give her time.

He wasn’t sure whether he was looking forward to seeing a rainbow or a green-and-white banner.

* * *

Melanie was working on a new sweater for the boutique, winter-white wool with inserts of angora, when she felt the first cramp. She set her knitting needles down, pressed her hand against her abdomen.

No, please.

But within the hour, the cramping had increased. When she came out of the bathroom, she lay quietly back down on her couch and pulled the knitted green and white afghan up over her shoulders.

She’d taken a painkiller so she didn’t hurt physically. But that didn’t stop the tears from slowly forming in her eyes.

Maybe it will never happen for me.

It was a frightening thought. When she’d pictured her future it had always included children. Though Melanie had been born late in her parents’ life, she’d never felt unloved. When she thought of children, it was with a feeling of what she could give to them. One of the reasons she’d waited was to get on her feet financially. Then there was the little matter of falling in love with a man who desired commitment, no easy feat in Los Angeles, a city that gave the male sex the opportunity to prolong adolescence into their eighties.

But if she had to go it alone, at least the boutique was starting to do well. You couldn’t rush a business. It took time. It irked her to live under Donnie’s roof, but she and her brother had reached a sort of truce and she didn’t see him that much. She simply sent him her check on the first of each month. Occasionally he’d come by to see her or Bubba – Bubba more often – but he seemed to have finally realized she was an adult.

But children – she’d been delighted when both her sisters had made her an aunt. She had two nieces and three nephews. Each time she’d held them in her arms as babies, she’d anticipated the moment when she would hold a child of her own. It had never been something that had consumed her – just something she knew she wanted to experience.

So you have three, maybe five months to go.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to ask any more of Bubba. Maybe Alicia was right, maybe finding a stranger was the right thing to do. As soon as she thought it, her heart rejected the idea.

Feeling totally defeated, she closed her eyes.

* * *

Bubba was sitting in his hot tub when he saw the green-and-white wind sock bob into view. The colorful nylon snapped in the early morning breeze.

She’s not pregnant.

While a part of him was glad he would have a chance to be close to her for one more night, another part – the larger part – of his emotions concentrated on how he knew she must be feeling. Defeated. Vulnerable. How much self-esteem would any woman possess after Phillip the worm?

He vaulted up and out of the tub, splashing chlorinated water all over Henry who turned tail and darted into the bushes on the border of the patio. As soon as Bubba dried himself off, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt and headed over to Mel’s house.

She didn’t answer his knock so he went around back and tried the kitchen door. Nothing.

Not wanting to break down her door – even though that was what he felt like doing – he jogged back over to his house and picked up his phone.

She answered his call on the third ring.

“Hey, Mel, are you all right?”

She sounded defeated. “It didn’t work, Bubba. Thanks for trying.”

“We’re not done yet.”

“Yes we are.” There was tired note of finality in her voice. “I asked too much of you the first time. I can’t ask you again.”

“Ask me.” His tone was firm. “Let me make that decision.”

“No. I want us to stay friends. If we try again – ”

“We’ll stay friends. Trust me.”

“I do. But I don’t… I want you as a friend, Bubba, not a lover.”

It was a minute before he realized she’d disconnected their call.

* * *

“I still think you should consider a dating service,” Alicia said the next day at work. Both women were on their hands and knees in the display window, arranging sherbet colored hand knit cotton sweaters.

“Ali, I don’t have the money right now.” It didn’t seem like something she wanted to do anyway, pick a father for her prospective child from a group of photos online.

“Then let me set you up with someone I know,” Alicia persisted as she arranged the folds of a light lilac sweater. “You’re just about entering your fertile period, anyway, and you didn’t do anything about it last month, even with that gorgeous man next door.”

Melanie was glad her friend was concentrating on tacking the sweater in place with straight pins and couldn’t see the flush she was sure was staining her cheeks. Alicia could be so blunt sometimes. Mel hadn’t confided in her close friend about her night with Bubba. It was something she’d wanted to keep private.

“And even if you do go out with this guy, sometimes a woman doesn’t conceive the first time.”

How well I know,
Mel thought as she reached for another sweater.

“Anyway, Joel is gorgeous. He has the darkest eyes and his mouth is divine. You’d make a beautiful baby with him.”

She was glad when the bell on the boutique's front door tinkled, alerting them that a customer was about to enter the small shop. Melanie had no desire to continue this conversation.

But what was she going to do? She couldn’t ask Bubba for any more favors. He’d done enough for her. She couldn’t keep imposing on him. Then why was it so hard to imagine making love to another man? It wouldn’t be the same. With Bubba it had been a beautiful give-and-take, an intimate sharing. She’d simply be going through the motions clinically with this Joel, trying to get pregnant.

She helped the customer, a fortyish brunette with short hair and a slim figure, pick out two sweaters from their summer collection. Mel knew she was a good saleswoman because she didn’t pressure. She was also scrupulously honest. If a sweater didn’t look good, she was the first to gently suggest another style. She was sensitive to the women who entered her shop, knowing how vulnerable someone was when trying on any type of clothing.

When they were finished, she folded the sweaters with tissue and slid them into the silver and white shopping bag.

As soon as the woman left, Alicia began again.

“Mel, if you just met Joel, I know you’d like – ”

“Set it up.” She didn’t look at Alicia, knowing her friend would be amazed she’d capitulated so swiftly. She had no choice. It was meeting Joel or choosing to be childless for the rest of her life. So what if she didn’t love him? She’d listened to enough of her friend’s laments to know there were plenty of women involved with men they didn’t particularly care for.

“Are you serious?” Alicia squeaked, her voice high with excitement. If there was one thing her friend liked more than gossiping about people, it was setting them up. “I’ll call him the minute I get home from work!”

There was no taking her words back now. She forced her voice to remain calm, even though her stomach was doing flip-flops.

“Thanks, Ali. I’d appreciate it.”

* * *

Bubba was out on his patio, lying on the chaise and watching the sun set when the phone range. Thinking it could be Mel, he jackknifed out of his prone position and jogged into the house

“Bubba? It’s me. Alicia.”

How Melanie and Alicia were friendly was beyond his comprehension. He supposed they had a lot to talk about, as they were both fashion design majors and had gone into business together. He’d even gone into their store once to buy a sweater for his mother’s birthday. But the two women were as different as night and day.

“Hi, Alicia. What’s up?” He was nice to her for Mel’s sake, figuring if Melanie was friends with her she had to have some redeeming qualities. He just couldn’t quite figure out what they were.

“I’m having this party at the end of the month and I wanted to ask you to come. Nothing fancy, just a barbecue, maybe a swim afterward. Mother will be in Mexico and she told me I could use her house.”

Alicia’s parents had money, a lot of which she’d used to open the boutique with Mel. He knew Melanie had taken out a loan for her share.