Just for Now (34 page)

“Me! Me!” Harry and Sophie chimed in chorus.

“Jenna?” he asked.

“You go on,” she told him. “It’s almost seven-thirty
already. I want to get dinner fixed. I know you must be hungry. I’m sure they
didn’t feed you guys nearly enough on the plane.”

“You’re right. Forty-five minutes, OK?”

“Perfect.”

It was after nine by the time they had eaten, and ten before
the overexcited Harry and Sophie had finally settled in bed, Sophie succumbing
to one final tearful outburst beforehand.

“Geez,” Finn sighed as he came out of her room at last and
sank onto the couch. “Has she been like that?”

“All day,” Jenna sighed. “Both of them, actually. But
especially Sophie.”

“You must be worn thin.”

“A bit,” she smiled. “It’s been a long day. Not as long as
yours, though. Want a beer?”

“You know I do. Don’t get up. I’ll go.”

He came back in a minute with bottle in hand. “The Poms think
they make good beer. But to my mind, it doesn’t compare to Mac’s.”

“It’s all in what you’re used to, I suppose,” she said.

He looked across the couch at her, sitting as usual with her
feet tucked under her. “Still not drinking, eh.”

“Nope. New leaf continues.”

“Wouldn’t have said you needed reforming. Except in certain
areas.” He grinned across at her. “I missed you.”

“Me too.” She smiled back at him.

He was just scooting across to join her when Harry appeared
in the doorway, glasses askew, PJs rumpled.

“I need a drink of water,” the boy complained. “I woke up
and I was thirsty.”

Jenna got to her feet on a long breath. “OK. Let’s go.”

 She came back into the lounge five minutes later. “Guess
that was our cue to say goodnight. Because that might not be the last journey
out of bed for them. Not going to work. The kids have a playdate tomorrow,
though.”

“A playdate, eh.” His eyes gleamed. “I’ll have to look
forward to that, I reckon.”

“Meanwhile.” He hauled himself up off the coach, where he
felt like he’d taken root, and pulled her into his arms. “I’m not going to bed
without kissing you. No matter who needs a drink of water.”

 He felt her wrap her arms around him to draw him closer,
and deepened the kiss. It felt so good. And it had been so long. “Sure?” he
murmured.

“He’s going to be popping up again in five minutes,” Jenna
sighed against him. “Or Sophie will have a bad dream. Tomorrow. Two o’clock.”

“Two o’clock,” he said reluctantly, letting her go and
watching as she went to the door. “Too long.”

Jenna looked up from her book at the knock at the door.
“Come in.”

She set the paperback down with surprise as Finn came
through the door and closed it softly behind him, his thumb flicking the lock
shut. “What are you doing here? We just agreed about this.”

He came to sit on the bed next to her. “I got to thinking
about it. Only a week left till the end of our contract. We can end this
tomorrow, if we want to.”

“I don’t mean end it,” he said hastily, seeing her frown. “I
mean, end the nanny thing. You can move out now. I’ll help you, if you need
someplace to stay. We can go from living together to dating, out in the open.”

He leaned over to kiss her, lingered there. “I’ve missed you
so much. Couldn’t wait to be with you again, that’s the strength of it. I’m
bloody tired. But I couldn’t sleep, thinking of you down here in bed without
me, after I spent all these weeks alone.”

“You had a roommate,” Jenna pointed out weakly, feeling her
resolve evaporating.

He laughed, pulled the duvet back to climb into bed with
her. “Lackie’s not a bad young fella, but he isn’t quite in your class.”

She sighed with pleasure at the feel of his hand stroking
her hair back from her face, of his mouth on hers. Once would be all right.
Just once, before she told him. She deserved that, didn’t she?

Tell him now,
the voice of reason said sternly.
He
needs to know.
But her body was saying something else, drowning out that
sensible voice.

Finn wasn’t rushing tonight, despite the long separation and
the need she sensed in him, a need she felt just as strongly, pulling her
toward him, into him. She pulled his T-shirt over his head, wanting to feel his
skin against her hands, to memorize the look and feel of him. She’d forgotten
so much. This curve, where the muscle rose from his neck along the top of his shoulders.
The swell of his bicep under her palm as he propped himself on an elbow, the
silky skin of his inner arm. His mouth, moving over hers, kissing her as if
he’d missed this as much as she had.

His hand moved down to stroke a breast, and she flinched
involuntarily at the touch. He felt it, pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re a little tender right now, that’s all,” she said
apologetically. “Can you be really careful? And can we turn out the light? I’m
feeling a little shy,” she tried to joke. “It’s been a long time.”

He frowned, but moved to comply. “I’d rather see you. Course
I will, though, if that’s what you want.” He came back to her, felt for the hem
of her nightgown, pulled it over her head. “Where were we?”

“You were kissing me,” she told him in the dark. “And it was
feeling really good.”

“I was, wasn’t I,” he agreed. “And I was touching you.
Gently.” He went back to kissing her again, moved his hand carefully over her
breast, keeping it soft. Then stroked down her side, over her abdomen. And
froze.

“What the hell.” His voice was strained now. He sat up,
fumbled for the light again, turned it on. And stared down at her beneath him.
At the fine lines of blue veins, always visible through the pale skin of her
breasts, so much more prominent now. The nipples darker, breasts fuller than he
remembered them. And that firm swelling below her navel, unmistakable under his
hand and so obvious now that he couldn’t imagine how he’d missed it earlier in
the evening.

“How far gone are you?” he asked bluntly. “And why didn’t
you tell me about this?”

“You can tell?” she faltered.

“Course I can tell,” he said impatiently. “I have two kids.
How far gone?”

“Twelve weeks,” she admitted. “Ten weeks since conception.
That’s what the midwife says.”

“And?” he prompted when she fell silent. “Why didn’t you
tell me, sometime in those ten weeks?” He reached for his T-shirt, pulled it
back on with jerky motions.

Jenna leaned over to pick her nightgown up from the floor
where he’d dropped it, wanting to be dressed for this conversation. It wasn’t going
anything like the way she had envisioned. The way she had hoped it would be.

“Before you left,” she began, “I wasn’t sure, at first. And
then I was, pretty sure. But I had a . . . I had a miscarriage before. When I
was married. I couldn’t believe it would work. That the baby would live. And I
wanted it to, so much. I thought I would wait and see first. I didn’t want to
tell you, and then,” she swallowed, “then have it die again. If that was going
to happen, I needed it to just be me who knew.”

“I don’t understand that. It’s mine too. Isn’t it?” he asked
sharply. “Is that what you’re saying?”

“No!” She stared at him, horrified. “You know it is. You
know I hadn’t been with anybody else. How can you ask that?” Her breath was
coming shorter now. She felt the nausea rising, swallowed it back.

“How, then?” he challenged. “We used protection, every time.
I was bloody careful. How could that happen?”

“Because it isn’t perfect! You aren’t a kid. You know it
isn’t perfect.”

“Weren’t you using anything else, for God’s sake?”

She looked at him, stricken. “Of course I wasn’t. How could
I have been? I’d probably had sex twenty times in my life. I hadn’t had it at
all for years. Then you came along. You know what happened. You were there too.
You know how it was, how fast it was. You have to remember.”

“But after the first time,” he said with frustration.
“Didn’t you think about it?”

“Did
you
?” she challenged, getting angry now. “You’re
the one with the experience. Anyway, it probably
happened
that first
time. Ten weeks, Finn. Count back.”

“Aw, shit.” He put his head in his hands. “Bloody vending
machine condom. How could I have been so stupid? Twice. I can’t believe it.”

She looked down at him, the cold seeping through her. She
hadn’t expected him to be thrilled, of course. Well, she’d hoped, in some part
of herself, that he would be. That he’d want this baby, would want her, as much
as she wanted both of them. She was the one who’d been stupid. That was obvious
now.

He lifted his head, eyes narrowing again, hard now. “Right,”
he rapped out. “You didn’t tell me before I left. I’ve been gone five weeks,
Jenna. You had to know all those five weeks. Everything’s obviously going on
according to plan,” he said bitterly. “Based on how you look. Baby’s growing,
heart’s beating. All that. So why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

“On the phone? How was the game, and by the way, I’m
pregnant?”

“Yeh,” he snapped. “Exactly. I had a right to know. Why
didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was scared, all right?” she burst out. “I was
scared you’d react exactly the way you’re doing right now. And I wouldn’t even
be able to see you, talk to you. I thought it wouldn’t matter, that I could
wait till you came home. I even hoped you might be happy about it.” Her eyes
were welling with tears now, and she dashed them away impatiently with one
hand. “Stupid. But you’re such a good dad. I thought, I hoped, maybe you’d want
it as much as I did.”

“Right,” he shot back. “You thought I’d be rapt that I’d got
the nanny up the duff.”

She reared back as if he’d hit her, her eyes going wide with
shock and pain. Her hand went to her mouth as she stumbled out of bed.

“Don’t run away from me.” He was in front of her now,
glaring at her. “We’re talking about this.”

“Sick,” she got out from behind her hand, pushed past him
and ran for the door.

“Shit.” He watched her go. Sank down on the bed again, his
hands gripping the edge of the mattress, head bent. Took a few deep breaths and
pulled himself back under control with an effort. Shook himself like a dog and
stood up to go find her.   

He waited in the hallway until he heard the toilet flush,
then walked cautiously through the bathroom door to find Jenna still huddled on
her knees over the toilet, gripping the bowl.

“Aw, geez.” He pulled a hand towel from the rack and wet it
at the sink, squatted down next to her to wipe her face. She was crying in
earnest now, and the guilt twisted inside him. “Hang on. I’ll get you a glass
of water.”

When he came back with it, she was standing again, holding onto
the sink with one hand and slowly brushing her teeth with the other. Her face
still looked paper-white, and she didn’t appear any too steady on her feet.

“Come on,” he urged as she spat the toothpaste into the sink
and rinsed her mouth with the water he offered. “I’ll help you back to bed.
Have you been crook all this time? This bad?”

She nodded, still not looking at him.

He exhaled. “Let’s go, then. We can talk more tomorrow, figure
out what to do. You need to lie down now.”

“No.” She lowered the toilet seat and sank down onto it.
“I’m going to stay here for a minute.” She swallowed. “Still sick.”

“Right.” He leaned back against the wall to wait.

She pulled her hair back from her face with one trembling
hand and looked up at him with weary eyes. “Please go away. Go to bed. I don’t
want you here with me right now.”

He looked down at her helplessly. “Are you sure? Can I
help?”

She shook her head tiredly. “Just go. Please.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, then,” he said again. “Sorry. Wasn’t
expecting it, that’s all. Bit of a shock.”

Her mouth twisted. “Yeah. Shock to me too. Go to bed. You’ve
said enough. I get it. And I need to be alone now.”

He hesitated, then pushed himself off the wall and left the
bathroom, closing the door quietly after him. He couldn’t have made more of a
hash of that if he’d tried. He winced inwardly at the memory of her stricken
face, the pain in her eyes. He’d apologize again tomorrow. They’d make a plan.
He pushed a hand through his hair and made his way down the long hallway, up
the stairs to his own room. Pregnant. Bloody hell.  

 “Daddy!” Finn woke from the doze he’d finally fallen into
as Harry, always the early riser, jumped onto the bed next to him.

“What time is it?” he asked tiredly, pulling the alarm clock
towards him.

“Morning,” Harry pointed out unnecessarily. “And Jenna isn’t
up. Jenna’s
always
up when I get up, Dad.”

“We’ll let Jenna sleep a bit this morning,” Finn told his
son. “Where’s Sophie?”

Harry sighed. “Reading in bed. Of
course.”

“I have an idea. We’ll get dressed and walk to the café for
breakfast. A treat. How would that be?”

“Jenna too?” Harry scrambled for the edge of the bed.

“Nah, Jenna needs some rest. She wasn’t feeling too flash
last night.” Because of him, Finn thought guiltily.

Harry nodded. “Jenna feels crook a lot. She has a funny
tummy. That’s what she says. ‘Just my funny tummy.’ One time she had to stop
the car. And then she spewed on the verge. All over the
grass,
Dad. It
was
disgusting.”
Harry shuddered at the memory. “Sophie and I were
really scared. But then she got better.”

Finn winced. “Well, we’ll let her give her tummy a rest
today, now that I’m home. Go get your gear on. And tell your sister.”

“OK.” Harry ran off, and Finn moved into the bathroom to get
himself ready. He’d take the kids out. Then put on a DVD for them and have a
quiet talk with Jenna. It wasn’t ideal, but after the disaster last night, he
couldn’t afford to wait.