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  “Yes,” he repeated, stronger this time, his heart throbbing with a newly discovered joy. “I plan on taking this parenting business seriously.”

  “Good,” Lindy said, and opened her purse once more. She drew out a plastic dish and spoon. “I take it you and Carol are talking to each other now.”

  Smiling, Steve took a sip of his coffee and nodded, thinking about how well they’d “communicated” the day before. “You could say that,” he answered, leaning back in his chair, content in the knowledge that once he returned they would remarry.

  “There were times when I was ready to give up on you both,” Lindy said, shaking her head. “I don’t know anyone more stubborn than you. And Carol’s so damn proud; there’s no reasoning with her, either.”

  They’d both learned lessons in those areas. Painful ones.

  “Take care of her for me, Lindy,” he said, his eyes appealing to his sister. “I’m worried about her. She’s so fragile now, delicate in body and spirit.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be working much longer, but I’ll make a point of stopping in and seeing her as often as I can without being obvious about it.”

  Her job had been an area they’d both avoided discussing, because ultimately it involved Todd. As much as possible, Steve avoided all thoughts of the sporting goods store where Carol was employed.

  “I’d appreciate that,” he murmured.

  “If you think it’s necessary, I could suggest picking her up and driving her to work with me.”

  “That’s miles out of your way.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she returned, giving him an odd look. “Rush’s and my apartment is less than a mile from Carol’s place. In fact, I drive right past her street on my way to work anyway. It wouldn’t be any trouble to swing by and pick her up.”

  “True, but Larson’s is the opposite direction from the Boeing plant.”

  “Larson’s? What’s Larson’s?”

  “Larson’s Sporting Goods, where Carol works.” Even saying it brought an unreasonable surge of anger. It had always bothered him to think of Carol having anything to do with the store.

  “Carol doesn’t work at a sporting goods store. She works for Boeing,” Lindy informed him crisply, looking at him as though he’d recently landed from Mars. “She’s been there over a year now.”

  “Boeing?” Steve repeated. “She works for Boeing? I … I didn’t know that.”

  “Is Larson’s the place she used to work?”

  Steve nodded, wondering how much his sister knew about Carol’s relationship with the owner.

  “I think she mentioned it once. As I recall, they were having lots of financial troubles. She was putting in all kinds of extra hours and not getting paid. Not that it mattered, she told me. The couple who owned the place were friends and she was doing what she could to help out. I understand they’re still in business. Carol never told me why she decided to change jobs.”

  Steve chewed on that information. Apparently for all their talk about honest communication they’d done a poor job of it. Again.

  Lindy removed the lid from the Tupperware dish and started stirring some orange concoction that faintly resembled mashed carrots.

  “Good Lord, that looks awful.”

  “This?” She pointed the spoon at the container. “Trust me, it’s dreadful stuff.”

  “What is it?”

  Lindy’s gaze linked with his. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “If I did, do you think I’d be asking?”

  “It’s sweet potatoes.”

  “Sweet potatoes?” he echoed, wrinkling his nose. “What are you doing eating them at this time of year? I thought they were a holiday food.”

  “I just told you.”

  “No, you didn’t.” He didn’t know what kind of guessing game Lindy was playing now, but apparently he’d missed some important clues.

  “Rush and I are trying to get me pregnant.”

  “Congratulations, you already told me that.”

  “That’s why I’m eating the sweet potatoes,” Lindy went on to explain in a voice that was slow and clear, as though she were explaining this to a preschooler.

  Steve scratched the area behind his left ear. “Obviously I’m missing something here.”

  “Obviously!”

  “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. You want to have a baby so you’re eating sweet potatoes.” Lindy nodded. “Three times a day. At least, that was what Carol recommended.”

  “Why would she do that?”

  Lindy offered him another one of those looks usually reserved for errant children or unusually dense adults. “Because she told me how well eating this little vegetable worked for her.”

  Steve’s brow folded into a wary frown.

  “Apparently she heard this report on the radio about yams raising a woman’s estrogen level and she ate them by the bowlful getting ready for Christmas Eve with you.” Lindy reached inside her purse and pulled out several index cards. “She was generous enough to copy down some recipes for me. How does sweet potato and ham casserole sound?” she asked, and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I’ll be sampling that.”

  “Sweet potatoes,” he repeated.

  Lindy’s gaze narrowed to thin slits. “That’s what I just got done saying.”

  If she’d slammed a hammer over his head, the effect would have been less dramatic. Steve’s heart felt as if it was about to explode. His mind whirled at the speed of a thousand exploding stars. A supernova—his own. Everything made sense then. All the pieces to the bizarre and intricate puzzle slipped neatly into place.

  Slowly he rose to his feet, while bracing his hands against the edge of the table. His gaze stretched toward Seattle and the outline of the city as it faded from view.

  “Steve?” Lindy asked, concern coating her voice. “Is something wrong?”

  He shook his head. “Lindy,” he said reaching for her hand and pumping it several times. “Lindy. Oh, Lindy,” he cried, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m about to become a father.”

  Nineteen

  An overwhelming sense of frustration swamped Steve as the Atlantis sailed out of Hood Canal. As he sat at his station, prepared to serve his country for another tour, two key facts were prominent in his mind. The first was that he was soon to become a father and the second, that it would be three interminable months before he could talk to Carol.

  He’d been a blind fool. He’d taken a series of circumstantial evidence about Carol’s pregnancy and based his assumption solely on a series of events he’d misinterpreted. He remembered so clearly the morning he’d made his less-than-brilliant discovery. He’d gone into Carol’s living room and sat there, his heart and mind rebelling at what he’d discovered … what he thought he’d learned.

  Carol had come to him warm from bed, her eyes filled with love and laughter. He’d barely been able to tolerate the sight of her. He recalled the stunned look she’d given him when he first spoke to her. The shock of his anger had made her head reel back as though he’d slapped her. Then she’d stood before him, her body braced, her shoulders rigid, the proud tilt of her chin unyielding while he’d blasted his accusations at her like fiery balls from a hot cannon.

  He’d been so confident. The sweet potatoes were only the beginning. There was the knitting and the milk and a hundred little things she’d said and done that pointed to one thing.

  His heart ached at the memory of how she’d swallowed her self-respect and tried to reason with him. Her hand had reached out to him, implored him to listen. The memory of the look in her eyes was like the merciless sting of a whip as he relived that horrible scene.

  Dear God, the horrible things he’d said to her.

  He hadn’t been able to stop taunting her until she’d told him what he wanted to hear. Repeatedly he’d shouted at her to confirm what he believed until she’d finally admitted he was too smart for her.

  Steve closed his eyes to the agony that scene produced in his mind. She’d silently
stood there until her voice had come in desperate, throat-burning rasps that sounded like sobs. That scene had been shockingly similar to another in which he’d set his mind based on a set of circumstances and refused to believe her.

  Steve rubbed a hand wearily across his face. Carol had never had an affair with Todd. She’d tried to tell him, begged him to believe her, and he’d refused.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered aloud, tormented by the memory. He buried his face in his hands. Carol had endured all that from him and more.

  So much more.

  * * *

  Carol was miserable. She had six weeks of this pregnancy left to endure and each day that passed seemed like a year. Next time she decided to have a baby, she was going to plan the event so that she wouldn’t spend the hottest days of the summer with her belly under her nose.

  She no longer walked—she waddled. Getting in and out of a chair was a major production. Rolling over in bed was like trying to flip hotcakes with a toothpick. By the time she made it from one position to another, she was panting and exhausted.

  It was a good thing Steve wasn’t around. She was tired and irritable and ugly. So ugly. If he saw her like this he would take one look and be glad they were divorced.

  The doorbell chimed and Carol expelled her breath, determined to find a way to come to a standing position from the sofa in a ladylike manner.

  “Don’t bother to get up,” Lindy said, letting herself in the front door. “It’s only me.”

  “Hi,” Carol said, doing her best to smile, and failing.

  “How do you feel?”

  She planted her hands on her beach-ball-size stomach. “Let me put it this way—I have a much greater appreciation of what my mother went through. I can also understand why I’m an only child!”

  Lindy giggled and plopped down on the chair. “I can’t believe this heat,” she said, waving her hand in front of her face.

  “You can’t! I can’t see my feet anymore, but I swear my ankles look like tree trunks.” She held one out for Lindy’s inspection.

  “Yup—oak trees!”

  “Thanks,” Carol groaned. “I needed that.”

  “I have something that may brighten your day. A preordered surprise.”

  With an energy Carol envied, Steve’s sister leaped out of the chair and held open the front door.

  “Okay, boys,” she cried. “Follow me.”

  Two men marched through the house carrying a huge box.

  “What’s that?” Carol asked, struggling to get out of her chair, forgetting her earlier determination to be a lady about it.

  “This is the first part of your surprise,” Lindy called from the hallway.

  Carol found the trio in the baby’s bedroom. The oblong shaped box was propped against the wall. “A Jenny Lind crib,” she murmured, reading the writing on the outside of the package. For months, every time she was in the JCPenney store she’d looked at the Jenny Lind crib. It was priced far beyond anything she could afford, but she hadn’t seen any harm in dreaming.

  “Excuse me,” the delivery man said, scooting past Carol.

  She hadn’t been able to afford a new crib and had borrowed one from a friend, who’d promised to deliver it the following weekend.

  “Lindy, I can’t allow you to do this,” Carol protested, although her voice vibrated with excitement.

  “I didn’t.” She looked past Carol and pointed to the other side of the bedroom. “Go ahead and put the dresser there.”

  “Dresser!” Carol whirled around to find the same two men carrying in another huge box. “This is way too much.”

  “This, my dear, is only the beginning,” Lindy told her, and her smile was that of a Cheshire cat.

  “The beginning?”

  One delivery man was back, this time with a mattress and several sacks.

  Rush followed on the man’s heels, carrying a toolbox in his hand. “Have screwdriver, will travel,” he explained, grinning.

  “The stroller, high chair and car seat can go over in that corner,” Lindy instructed with all the authority of a company foreman.

  Carol stood in the middle of the bedroom with her hand pressed over her heart. She was so overcome she couldn’t speak.

  “Are you surprised?” Lindy asked, once the delivery men had completed their task.

  Carol nodded. “This isn’t from you?”

  “Nope. My darling brother gave me specific instructions on what he wanted me to buy for you—right down to the model and color. Before the Atlantis sailed he wrote out a check and listed the items he wanted me to purchase. Rush and I had a heyday in that store.”

  “Steve had you do this?” Carol pressed her lips tightly together and exhaled slowly through her nose in an effort to hold in the emotion. She missed him so much; each day was worse than the one before. The morning he’d left, she’d cried until her eyes burned. He probably wouldn’t be back in time for the baby’s birth. But even if he was, it really wouldn’t matter because Steve Kyle was such an idiot, he still hadn’t figured out this child was his own.

  “And while we’re on the subject of my dim-witted brother,” Lindy said, turning serious, “I think you should know he was the one who bought you the maternity dress and the rattle, too.”

  “Steve did?”

  Lindy nodded. “You two were going through a rough period and he didn’t think you’d accept them if you knew he was the one who bought them.”

  “We’re always going through a rough period,” Carol reported sadly.

  “I wouldn’t say that Steve is so dim-witted,” Rush broke in, holding up the instructions for assembling the crib. “Otherwise, he’d be the one trying to make sense out of this instead of me.”

  “Consider this practice, Rush Callaghan, since you’ll be assembling another one in a few months.”

  The screwdriver hit the floor with a loud clink. “Lindy,” Rush breathed in a burst of excitement. “Does this mean what I think it does?”

  * * *

  Steve wrote a journal addressed to Carol every day. It was the only thing that kept him sane. He poured out his heart and begged her forgiveness for being so stupid and so blind. It was his insecurities and doubts that had kept him from realizing the truth. Now that he’d accepted what had always been right before his eyes, he was astonished. No man had ever been so obtuse.

  Every time Steve thought about Carol and the baby, which was continually, he would go all soft inside and get weak in the knees. Steve didn’t know what his men thought. He wasn’t himself. His mood swung from high highs to lower lows and back again. All the training he’d received paid off because he did his job without pause, but his mind was several thousand miles away in Seattle, with Carol and his baby.

  His baby.

  He repeated that phrase several times each night, letting the sound of it roll around in his mind, comforting him so he could sleep.

  Somehow, someway, Steve was going to make this up to Carol. One thing he did know—the minute he was back home, he was grabbing a wedding license and a chaplain. They were getting married.

  * * *

  The last day that Carol was scheduled to work, the girls in the office held a baby shower in her honor. She was astonished by their generosity and humbled by what good friends she had.

  Because she couldn’t afford anything more than a three-month leave of absence, she was scheduled to return. A temporary had been hired to fill her position and Carol had spent the week training her.

  “The shower surprised you, didn’t it?” Lindy commented on the way out to the parking lot.

  “I don’t think I realized I had so many friends.”

  “This baby is special.”

  Carol flattened her hands over her abdomen. “Two weeks, Lindy. Can you believe in just two short weeks, I’ll be holding my own baby?”

  “Steve’s due home around that time.”

  Carol didn’t dare to hope that Steve could be with her when her time came. Her feelings on the subject were equally di
vided. She wanted him, needed him, but she would rather endure labor alone than have Steve with her, believing she was delivering another man’s child.

  “He’ll be here,” Lindy said with an unshakable confidence.

  Carol bit into her lower lip and shook her head. “No, he won’t. Steve Kyle’s got the worst timing of any man I’ve ever known.”

  * * *

  Carol let herself into the house and set her purse down. She ambled across the living room and caught a glimpse of herself in the hallway mirror as she walked toward the baby’s bedroom. She stopped, astonished at the image that flashed back at her.

  She looked as wide as a battleship. Everyone had been so concerned about the weight she lost when she’d been so sick. Well, she’d gained all that back and more. She’d become a walking, breathing Goodyear blimp.

  Her hair needed washing and hung in limp blond strands, and her maternity top was spotted with dressing from the salad she’d eaten at lunch. She looked and felt like a slob. And she felt weird. She didn’t know how to explain it. Her back ached and her feet throbbed.

  Tired, hungry and depressed, she tried to lift her spirits by strolling around the baby’s room, gliding her hand over the crib railing and restacking the neatly folded diapers.

  According to Lindy and Rush, the Atlantis was due into port any day. Carol was so anxious to see Steve. She needed him so much. For the past two years, she’d been trying to convince herself she could live a good life without him. It took days like this one—when the sky had been dark with thunderclouds all afternoon, she’d gained two pounds that she didn’t deserve and she felt so … so pregnant—to remind her how much she did need her ex-husband.

  The doorbell chimed once, but before Carol could make it halfway across the living room, the front door flew open.

  “Carol.” Steve burst into the room and slowly dropped his sea bag to the floor when he saw her. His eyes rounded with shock.

  Carol knew she looked dreadful.

  “Honey,” he said, taking one step toward her. “I’m home.”