Celebration's Baby. Nancy Thompson Robards
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rolled her eyes at him. Then she nestled into the crook between his arm and shoulder, that place where she fit so well.
“What’s next, after you call Hugh?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment Thursday.”
“What time?”
“Why?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Aiden.”
“I know, but I want to. I’ll be there for you, for moral support.
* * *
Cell phone in hand, Bia went into the bedroom and shut the door. Aiden was waiting in the kitchen. He’d said he understood that she needed to be alone when she made the call.
She wondered if he was standing guard, making sure she actually went through with it. She eyed the window, contemplating crawling out of it. But she knew that although she might be able to run away now, she’d never be able to escape the truth. She might as well make the call while Aiden was there. Besides, he would know if she chickened out. He had this uncanny way of reading her.
After what had happened with Maya yesterday, she wondered if she was too much of an open book or too transparent, but that had never been the case before. In fact, if anything, most people accused her of being too closed, too prickly. Maya’s correct guess that Bia was pregnant had been a fluke. That’s all there was to it. She would just need to make sure Maya didn’t say anything to anyone else. She would go talk to her again later that week.
But right now, first things first. She needed to make the call.
Her hand was shaking as she picked up the phone and pulled up Hugh’s number in her contacts. She wanted to laugh at the irony—how many women would pay to have Hugh Newman’s private number, to hear his voice over the line? But this was a call that she dreaded more than any she’d ever placed.
She stared at her phone screen for a moment, at the ten-digit number and the small thumbnail photo of Hugh’s face in the top left-hand corner of the page.
Her finger hovered over the call button, but she was paralyzed. She couldn’t press it.
Maybe she should send him a certified letter?
Right.
That was the big chicken’s way out. She didn’t know what address to send it to, and, even if she did, she had no guarantee he would be the one to open it—certified letter or not. The rules that applied to the little people didn’t always hold true for people like Hugh and his set.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Just call and get it over with.”
Her shaking finger came down hard on the call button. She held the phone to her ear before she could change her mind. For a few seconds, there was no sound and she was just about ready to pull the phone back and make sure she’d actually dialed the number. But before she could, she heard the ring, distant and tinny.
Bia paced the length of the room as the phone rang...four times before an automated attendant picked up. A generic, robotic voice informed her, “The person at this number is not available. Please leave your name and number after the tone.”
Not even a promise that the person would call back at his convenience. But the one thing that robo-attendant did get right was that Hugh was not available—not physically or emotionally.
Bia hung up. No way was she going to leave such a personal message on his voice mail. For that matter, she didn’t even know if the number still belonged to him.
She slumped down on the bed and stared at the phone’s flat black screen.
Now what?
She should’ve known that he wouldn’t pick up. Why would he? It wasn’t as if he’d been waiting for her to call. She half expected to get a call back from his assistant, the one who had offered to pay her off—
That gave her an idea.
She brought up her call log and scrolled through it. Sure enough, there was the assistant’s California number. What if she called him and asked him to have Hugh call her back? That it was a matter of great importance... Yeah, but there was no way she would make it past the guard dog without revealing what the call was about.
Wait a minute.... She stood up. Recently the paper had run a story on a phone app that manufactured disposable cell phone numbers, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the name of the company. She hadn’t written the story. She’d edited it and probably seventy-five other articles since then. Still, she knew how she could find it. She called up the phone’s browser and typed “how to disguise your cell number.” The first link at the top of the list was for the company the paper had profiled.
She downloaded the app, got a disposable number with a California area code and dialed Hugh again.
Miracle of miracles, he picked up on the second ring.
“Hugh Newman.”
It was now or never.
“Hugh, this is Bia Anderson. From Celebration, Texas.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line.
“Please don’t hang up. I don’t want anything from you, but I do have to tell you that I’m pregnant and you’re the father.”
She heard him exhale. At least he was still there. He’d gotten the message.
“This is a bad time.” His voice was heavy with annoyance. “I’ll call you back.”
Chapter Three
The message was waiting for Maya when she logged into the Facebook page she had set up for Maya’s Chocolates.
Hello, Maya! I’m so happy to learn that you are opening a shop in the United States. I had the pleasure of tasting your chocolate almost thirty years ago when I was in St. Michel. And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since. I will be in the Dallas area next week and I will stop in and say hello. Charles Jordan
While she wasn’t inundated with fan mail, she did get a piece now and again. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the message. Except for the line, And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since. Something about the turn of those words had been haunting her.
They called to mind a man she had known long ago. Actually, it was about twenty-nine or thirty years ago that Ian had been in her life. Huh. Another coincidence. But he’d disappeared just as fast as he’d appeared and swept her off her feet.
The memory weighed heavily on her heart.
Maya clicked on Charles Jordan’s name, eager to see if she could find any more information on his profile page. But he didn’t have a photo of himself for his profile picture. Instead, he had a generic picture of a snowcapped mountain range.
The page had been created a couple of years ago, but there hadn’t been much activity. There were no other pictures and his list of friends was not open for the public to view.
Maya grappled with an uneasy feeling. Mr. Jordan’s words, And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since, rang in her mind. In her head, she’d heard them in Ian’s voice. They were as clear as if he’d spoken them an hour ago.
Ian Brannigan. Her Irishman. Her love.
He’d simply left one day, never called and never come back. For a long time, she had been so numb she could barely function. Then she had gotten angry. That’s when she’d called his family in Dublin for contact information. Even though several years had passed by that point, Maya had been ready for an explanation. That’s when the real heartbreak started.