The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child. Helen R. MyersЧитать онлайн книгу.
their excitement and enthusiasm never failed to recharge her own.
She didn’t usually have supervision duty on Wednesday mornings, but like most other teachers on staff at Parkdale Elementary School, it was a tradition to meet on the playground behind the school so the students could catch a glimpse of their teachers before they entered the classroom, and vice versa. She knew most of the kids who would be in her class, of course, because the majority had attended kindergarten at the same school the previous year. But there were always a few new faces, children who had moved into the neighborhood over the summer and who were even more anxious about the first day because everything was strange and unfamiliar.
It was easy to spot the new ones, and Ashley liked to introduce herself before the first bell and to meet with the mother who was usually present and in whose hand a much smaller one would be tightly clasped.
She had three new students this year and she’d already made the rounds to say hello and invite the parents to come into the classroom. Some would accept her offer and, in doing so, would feel reassured about the environment in which they’d left their children. Others would decline, knowing that it would only make saying goodbye that much more difficult for the child. Ashley was supportive of either decision, trusting that the parent knew his or her child better than she did—at least on the first day.
She smiled at Adam Webber, one of the fifth-grade teachers and the boys’ basketball coach, when he came out of the school with the ever-present orange ball tucked under his arm.
“Look at them.” Adam shook his head. “So eager and enthusiastic.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll beat that out of them soon enough.”
He grinned easily at her teasing, because he knew he was one of the favorite teachers at Parkdale. “How does your class look this year? Or should I wait until the end of the day to ask you?”
“Twenty-three kids. Ten boys, thirteen girls.”
“Twenty-four,” he said.
“What?”
“Haven’t you seen Wendy this morning?” Adam asked, referring to the principal’s administrative assistant.
“No, I came directly around the back.”
“She told me she has an updated class list for you.”
“But I just picked up the list yesterday. And I did all of the name tags and locker magnets last night.”
He shrugged. “I’m just the messenger.”
Ashley turned to go into the school, and that’s when she saw her.
The child looked the right age for a first grader, with long, dark hair and wide, terrified eyes. She was wearing a sleeveless pink dress with tiny white daisies embroidered at the square neckline and along the hem, with matching pink canvas sneakers embroidered with the same flowers on the toes.
Obviously the newest addition.
Feeling an instinctive stir of empathy, Ashley had already started forward when she glanced from the child to parent—and froze.
The man holding the little girl’s hand was Cam Turcotte.
Ashley stopped by Wendy’s office and grabbed the new class list before ducking into her classroom and closing the door at her back. She just needed five minutes alone. Five minutes to assimilate the reality that had been shoved in her face. Five minutes to accept that Cam had a child—that the baby she’d once dreamed of having with him had been born to someone else.
She didn’t want to believe it. And yet she couldn’t deny it was true. There was no doubt the little girl with the shiny dark hair and wide green eyes clinging to his hand as if he was the center of her world could be anyone but his daughter.
But how could she not have known?
Cam might have moved away more than twelve years ago, but his parents had remained in town. In fact, it had been from his mother that she’d heard about his marriage to Danica, and that news had hit her the same way.
Gayle Turcotte, apparently recognizing how much the revelation had hurt Ashley, had been careful not to make any further mention of her son’s life in Seattle whenever their paths had crossed. She’d certainly never mentioned the baby girl that Cam’s wife had given birth to.
Madeline Carrington-Turcotte, according to the updated class list she’d inadvertently crumpled in her fist.
Cam had always been very traditional, so she would bet that the hyphenated name was his ex-wife’s idea. Just because Ashley had been foolish enough to doodle “Ashley Turcotte” inside the cover of her notebooks when she was in high school didn’t mean another woman would feel the same way about taking her husband’s name.
In any event, she and Cam had broken up more than twelve years earlier, so she knew it was ridiculous to feel so hurt by the knowledge that he’d had a child with another woman. But that knowledge failed to lessen her sense of betrayal.
Because when Cam had left her, one of the reasons he’d given for ending their relationship was that he didn’t want the life she’d envisioned for them—not yet.
“I’ve decided to go to Seattle,” he told her.
Ashley stared at him, feeling as if the very ground beneath her feet had begun to crumble. “Washington?”
He nodded. “Their School of Medicine is one of the best in the country.”
“But—” She didn’t quite know what to say, how to respond to something that he’d obviously already decided upon, and without even discussing it with her “—but you have at least three years before med school.”
“I know. But staying here, going to a university closer to home, it will only delay the inevitable.”
Inevitable? What was it that he thought was inevitable?
Ashley didn’t ask, because in her heart, she was afraid she already knew the answer. But she pushed aside her fears.
“There are good medical schools that aren’t on the other side of the country. Like Northwestern and Cornell. Even Chapel Hill would be better than Washington.”
“I want to go to Washington.”
She’d heard the finality in his voice, and her eyes had filled with tears. “You’re breaking up with me.”
He glanced away. “This is for the best, Ash.”
“Best for who?” she demanded.
“For both of us. Do you think this was an easy decision for me to make?”
“How would I know—since you never talked to me about it?”
“Because I knew you would try to convince me to stay. And because I was afraid I would let you.” He reached out and took her hands. “Because there’s a part of me that wants nothing more than to stay here with you.”
The seemingly heartfelt words and the warmth of his touch failed to thaw the icy numbness that had taken hold of her.
She managed to speak, though she didn’t manage to disguise the anguish in her tone when she asked, “Then why are you leaving?”
“Because we want different things, Ash. Being a doctor has been my dream for as long as I can remember.”
“You said you wanted to get married.”
“I do,” he agreed. “Someday. But I’m nowhere near being ready to make that kind of commitment yet. I’m not even close to thinking about being a husband or a father.”
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