Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100661 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
After letting me go, he shut the door behind me. His eyes roamed over my blue floral skirt, the white T-shirt I’d tied at the waist, and my sneakers. “You look great.”
“Thanks. So do you.” He was barefoot and wore jeans and a plain black T-shirt that hugged his muscles.
He messed with his hair. “Sorry I’m a little wet, I just showered. Can I get you something to drink? Beer or glass of wine or something? I don’t have champagne, but I think I have a bottle of white somewhere around here.”
“Maybe just water?”
“Sure. Come on in.” As we left the entryway and moved down a hall to the right, he swept an arm toward a bedroom on the left. “So, this is my place. Guest room there. Bathroom here.” He gestured to an open door on the right, through which I saw shiny white marble with gray veins. The hall ended at a partially closed door, which he pushed open. “My bedroom.”
I gave it a glance—king-sized bed, huge TV screen mounted on the opposite wall, massive windows with the blackout shades down.
He turned left again, leading me into a huge open space with a kitchen at one end and a living room at the other. The outer wall was a curved bank of floor-to-ceiling windows offering a stunning panoramic view of the city below and Lake Michigan beyond.
“Wow,” I said. “What a view.”
“Yeah, that’s what sold me on this place. I like being able to see the water.” He went behind a marble-topped island and opened a stainless fridge. Pulling out a bottle of water, he handed it to me. “This okay?”
“Yes. Thank you.” I uncapped it and took a few cold swallows, praying my nausea wouldn’t hit while I was here.
“Have a seat.” He grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the cap off. “Tell me how things are going at the Cherry Tree Harbor Historical Society.”
I went over to one of two navy blue couches that met in an L shape and perched on the edge of the cushion. “Pretty good.”
He dropped down next to me, leaning back with casual ease. It struck me how unsuspecting he was. He had no idea I was about to lob a grenade in his direction.
I quickly took another sip of water.
“I was glad to get your text,” he said.
Not for long he wasn’t.
He smiled, his blue eyes twinkling. “I had a lot of fun that night we hung out together.”
“Me too. That’s . . .” I dug my thumbnail beneath the label on the water bottle. “That’s kind of why I’m here.”
He chuckled. “You look nervous.”
“I am.”
“You don’t have to be nervous with me, Mabel.” He gave my shoulder a playful poke. “We don’t have to start all over again. I already put the puck in the net, remember?”
“That’s the thing,” I said. “The puck sort of—stayed in the net.”
He cocked his head but still wore a smile. “Huh?”
I set my water bottle on the coffee table and placed my hands on my stomach. “I’m pregnant, Joe. I got pregnant that night.”
NINE
joe
My face was immobile, like my smile had been set in cement. “Sorry, what?”
“I’m pregnant.”
I looked around, like this might all be an elaborate setup. A practical joke. Were my brothers about to jump out and laugh their asses off at me? I had to admit, this would be a good prank.
But the room remained silent.
“Is this—are you—sorry.” I shook my head and stared at Mabel’s stomach. “Did you say pregnant?”
“Yes.” She took a breath. “I know this is a shock.”
“From that one night?”
“Yes.”
“But it was just a scrimmage,” I insisted. “It wasn’t supposed to count.”
She laughed nervously. “I don’t think all the players got that message.”
I jumped off the couch and backed up, putting distance between us, although it was a little too late for that. “How did this happen? I wore condoms!”
“Yes, well . . . turns out, there were some elite athletes in the game that sort of breached the defensive line. And then one of them stayed to celebrate the victory.”
The victory? This wasn’t a victory. This was a nightmare!
“Did I put it on wrong?” I racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d been in such a rush that I’d skipped some critical step.
“No. It just . . . failed, Joe. It can happen.”
“Not to me, it can’t!”
“Look, don’t panic, okay? I’m not here to make any demands. You don’t have to change your life.”
I looked at her and squinted, like she wasn’t in focus. “Huh?”
“You can still be who you are. I don’t expect you to drop everything and be a dad.”
A dad? What was she talking about? I couldn’t be a dad. My dad was a dad.
I was a hockey player. That’s all I knew how to be.
My brothers were dads, but they were different than me. Gianni was married to the only woman who’d ever put up with his bullshit, and he’d always worshipped her. Although, now that I thought about it, Ellie had gotten pregnant before they were married. Was there some sort of curse on the Lupo men?