Elsa squinted up at him. “Don’t try to butter me up, okay? I hate it. I can see you coming from a mile away.”
Yikes. Just like the boys in Dallas. “You should play hockey. Center, or maybe right wing.”
His daughter gave him a half-irritated look and left the room to go and rummage through her closet.
Mike put Shelly’s note back in its envelope. He tucked it into the top drawer of his dresser, then went to see if Hans was home from the grocery store yet.
TWENTY-NINE
An hour later Lauren stood in Mike’s gleaming kitchen slicing the strawberries she’d picked up on the way here. She’d also brought pound cake and cream to whip.
Until a moment ago, Mike, Elsa, Hans, and Justin had been standing here with her, drinking the first beer of the evening and catching up on news. Hans had told them about his audition for the Miami orchestra tomorrow. “That is life in the arts. You are always scrambling to make a good impression.”
“You’re going to win this one,” Elsa had said with stars in her eyes. “I just know it.”
The smile he gave her was so full of love that it broke Lauren’s heart. This child had been so unlucky to lose her mother at such a tender age. Thank god there were people in her life to help her through it.
And who knew that pregnancy would make her so emotional? This was the third time today that an act of kindness had made her feel all gooey inside.
The men were outdoors now in Mike’s little backyard, and the steaks were on the grill. Elsa came back through the kitchen, and Lauren stopped her. “Hey, I have something for you in my bag. But don’t get excited, it’s just three kinds of pads. I thought you could try the different styles and see what worked best.”
“Oh! Thank you. Really.” The girl’s eyes darted toward the door, and Lauren could hear the gears turning in her head. She didn’t want to have this discussion in front of Hans and company.
“My bag is in the living room,” Lauren said, tipping her chin in that direction. “They’re right inside the main compartment—grab them now while the coast is clear.” Her own hands were sticky with strawberry juice.
Elsa darted away, and Lauren finished up the berries. She sprinkled sugar over them, and a squirt of lemon.
“Steaks are ready!” Mike said, coming through the back door, followed by Hans and Justin. He gave her a blinding smile.
“Okay. I’m done here.” Lauren set the bowl of berries to macerate and rinsed her sticky fingers. She could whip the cream after dinner. She carried her glass of water to the table, which was set for six. Lauren would bet any sum of money that Hans had set it, not Mike. The silverware shone in perfect lines in a way that shouted OCD! Which Mike was not.
“Elsa!” Mike called toward the stairs. “Dinner!” He put a steak on Lauren’s plate, and then Justin passed her the pasta salad, and a bowl of broccoli.
For a moment, the four adults waited.
Mike got up and walked over to the stairway. “Els! Did you hear me? Dinner is ready!”
She returned something that Lauren couldn’t make out.
“Let’s start,” Mike said, taking his seat. “We can’t let the food get cold just because somebody is on her own clock.”
After the dishes had been passed, Lauren cut into her steak and took a bite. It was excellent. She wondered when she’d start to feel nauseated by the pregnancy. Apart from a little soreness in her breasts—and a positive pregnancy test—there weren’t any symptoms. Yet. She had her first appointment with the obstetrician a week from today, where she could ask all her questions.
It took five or ten minutes until Elsa appeared. She stalked over to the table and sat down.
“Good of you to join us,” Mike said, passing her a steak.
Elsa gave him dagger eyes, and Lauren marveled. The kid had been cheerful enough a half hour ago. Hell, teenagers were moody. Even Hans couldn’t draw her out. When he asked her a couple of gentle questions about her day at school, she gave him monosyllabic answers.
“What do you think of this wine?” Justin asked, sipping from his glass. “I don’t usually go in for Malbec, but the wine guy raved.”
“It’s spicy,” Mike said. “I like it.”
“And I like everything,” Hans admitted. “He always goes on about the nose or the terroir, and I just nod and smile.”
“That’s okay, honey,” Justin said, laying a hand on his. “I like a cheap date.”
Everyone laughed. Except for Elsa. She raised a cool gaze to Lauren’s. “What do you think of the wine?” she challenged.
Oh boy. Lauren, stunned by the question, stared across the table at Elsa, who regarded her with a laser gaze.
The girl knew.
Still tongue-tied, Lauren went over the last hour in her mind. How had she given herself away? Not everybody accepted a beer when offered one. And she hadn’t said a word. She’d brought Elsa those maxi pads . . .
Oh, crap. Her prenatal vitamins were in that bag somewhere. It was entirely possible that Elsa had glimpsed them. There was a big freaking pregnant belly on the label, with a heart drawn on it.
And the untouched glass of wine Hans had poured her sat there on the table like a beacon. She felt eyes on her.
“Maybe Lauren isn’t in the mood to drink tonight,” Mike said lightly.
“Is that how you want to play it?” Elsa asked. She set down her fork. “When did you plan to tell me?”
“Uh-oh,” Mike muttered under his breath.
“When I was sure,” Lauren sputtered. “It isn’t personal.”
“Just do me one favor?” Elsa stabbed a cherry tomato in her pasta salad as if trying to spear it in the heart. “If the baby was an accident, don’t ever let it know, okay? Don’t let it hear its grandparents tell their neighbors that its daddy got its mother knocked up at eighteen. Don’t let the wives in the clubhouse whisper about how young they had you. And don’t end up apologizing to your kid for cheating on each other, okay? Because the baby will not want to hear that she was the source of all your woe.”
Elsa jammed the tomato in her mouth and stood up from the table. Then she made her exit with a regal posture which she maintained all the way up the stairs.
There was stunned silence at the table then. Nobody even chewed.
Mike was the first to shake it off. He looked up at the ceiling. “Thanks a crap ton, Shelly. Nice timing!”
“What?” Lauren said, trying to make sense of it.
He shook his head. “I’ll go talk to her. No—I’ll finish my steak. Then I’ll go talk to her. Her day has been full of revelations. She just needs a break.” He took Lauren’s hand under the table, then addressed Hans. “So, we’re having a baby or two.”
“Probably,” Lauren corrected. “It’s early.”
“Two?” Hans asked.
She jerked her head toward Mike. “That’s his funny little joke. I’ll settle for one healthy one.”
“Congratulations,” the German man said, his smile bashful.
“Thank you. You’re the first person to say that, because I haven’t told a soul.”
“And yet . . .” Mike pointed at the staircase.