Rebecca's Little Secret. Judy Christenberry
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he could continue, Chelsea protested. “Jeff, I’m not sure that a five-star French restaurant allows children. And even if they do, a little boy won’t like it.”
“I know. So we’re going to McDonald’s.”
“You must be kidding. No one goes to McDonald’s.”
“People with children go to McDonald’s. And I now have a child. I’m trying to be as honest as I can be, Chelsea. Joey is going to be a part of my life. I want him to be a part of your life, too.”
“A little boy? How old is he?”
“He’s almost four. He’s in preschool.”
“So we’re talking visitation for an occasional weekend?”
Jeff sank his teeth into his bottom lip. “Maybe more than that. I’m not sure right now. Let’s just take it one step at a time. We’ll go to McDonald’s and—”
“I don’t want to go to McDonald’s. I’ll eat at home.” She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him.
“It’s your choice. But Rebecca is coming with us, and you know how the gossips are.” He shrugged his shoulders. “If you’re with me, nobody will think anything of it.”
He let his words settle into her head. Then he said, “But it’s up to you, Chelsea. I don’t want to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”
She glared at him. “I’ll go, but you’re going to owe me big time, Jeff Jacobs.”
They drove to Chelsea’s home in silence. It was wrong to compare Rebecca and Chelsea. They were two completely different people. And Rebecca had had time to get used to having a child. He couldn’t imagine Chelsea pregnant or even having children, now that he thought about it. In fact, he couldn’t believe the subject never came up before. And he needed to change that. Just before she got out of the car, he asked, “How many children do you want us to have?”
“I haven’t really thought about it. But certainly none anytime soon. I want us to travel and to have fun together, just the two of us. Maybe we could have one child when I’m in my mid-thirties. That’s still safe. But I don’t think I’d want more than one.”
She leaned over and kissed him before she got out of the car and went into the house.
Jeff couldn’t believe how many momentous revelations had been brought to his attention today. How could he have proposed to Chelsea without ever asking her about children? He wanted children. More than one child. He’d been an only child and he’d hated it. It was lonely, and there was too much responsibility and burden to carry for one person, so much pressure and nobody to share it with.
Chelsea was one of two children. It had occurred to Jeff that her brother had been an accident, since there were seven years between them. But he hadn’t asked. Maybe he didn’t want to know…or maybe he was afraid of Chelsea’s response.
REBECCA HAD SPENT THE afternoon talking to Joey about stepmothers and the advantage of having a father. By dinnertime, she’d made some progress, but not much.
Rebecca dressed in jeans and a cotton sweater, along with athletic shoes, then made sure her son was in clean clothes. She’d combed his hair, but it didn’t behave very well. To her he looked adorable. She hoped Chelsea would think so.
She’d called Jeff and told him they would meet him at the fast-food restaurant since he had to pick up Chelsea. He reluctantly agreed. Rebecca and Joey arrived five minutes early. She ordered and paid for their food, so there would be no awkward confrontation later. They found a table for four and settled in on one side of the table. Joey wanted to open his meal at once, but Rebecca insisted he wait for the others to arrive and order their food.
When Jeff and Chelsea came in, Rebecca waved to them. Either she was severely underdressed or Chelsea was overdressed with her pink sleeveless top that didn’t quite reach her waist and a skirt that flared around her thighs. Rebecca guessed that the top was made of cashmere, which made it very expensive, and out of place for this type of restaurant.
Jeff frowned when he saw they already had their food. Chelsea sat down at the table, and he asked her what she wanted. She asked for the kids’ meal.
“Goody!” Joey exclaimed. “Can I have your toy if you don’t want it?”
“Chelsea, I should introduce you to Joey, my son, who has already asked for your toy. If you want to keep it, please do so.” Rebecca gave her son a reproving look.
“Mommy! She wouldn’t want a toy soldier!”
“She might, Joey, and I’ve told you it’s not nice to ask for something.”
Joey ducked his head and muttered, “Okay.”
Jeff promised to be right back and went to purchase their food. Rebecca tried to make conversation with Chelsea, but it was forced and awkward. They were all relieved when Jeff returned.
“Here’s your meal,” he told Chelsea as he sat the box in front of her. He had gotten a cheeseburger and fries for himself.
Rebecca told Joey he finally could open his box and begin eating.
He opened his box, but his interest was fixed on what toy he’d received. “Oh. I got the green soldier.” Disappointment filled his voice.
“What’s wrong with the green soldier?” Jeff asked.
“I already have three green soldiers, but I wanted a blue soldier.”
Chelsea looked up after opening her box. “I have a blue soldier.” Her voice was offhand.
Joey looked at his mother, but she shook her head no.
After a minute, when Chelsea had begun eating her hamburger, Joey said politely, “I’ll trade soldiers with you, if you want.”
Chelsea looked at Jeff, who nodded yes. She still hesitated a minute. Then she said, “You can have it.”
Joey was thrilled. “Thank you!” he exclaimed.
Joey immediately began playing with the two soldiers. Rebecca had to remind him to eat his dinner, and the boy reluctantly took a bite of his hamburger. Jeff began asking him questions about what he liked to do, which also kept Joey busy.
Rebecca continued to try to make conversation with Chelsea while they ate, since she showed no interest in Jeff’s conversation with Joey. “Did you attend Southern Methodist University?” Rebecca asked.
“No. I went to Stanford,” Chelsea said, naming a highly ranked college in California.
“Oh. I’ve heard it’s hard to get into Stanford.”
“Not when my father went there and has contributed a lot of money to their building funds.”
“How nice,” Rebecca said. She couldn’t think of any other comment.
“I majored in French Literature,” Chelsea added.
“What kind of job can you get with that major?” Rebecca asked, truly curious about the practical application of her major.
Chelsea, however, appeared affronted. “A job? You think I’ll be looking for a job? I’m marrying Jeff.”
“Oh, of course,” Rebecca agreed.
“Mommy! Look, there’s Derek!” Joey squealed, jumping to his feet in his chair and knocking over his soda, splashing it all over Chelsea.
Chapter Three
“Oh, Joey, no!” Rebecca said, but it was too late to undo what Joey’s excitement had done. “I’m so sorry, Chelsea,” she hurriedly said, and began handing her all the napkins she had. “Joey, you need to apologize to Chelsea.”
“I’m sorry. Mommy, can I go play with Derek?”
“No.