Building Dreams. Ginna GrayЧитать онлайн книгу.
There’s not a single thing left to do.”
“I guess that means I won’t be seeing much of you anymore. I mean…” He shrugged again and dug the toe of his sneaker into the carpet. “Now that we’re all done, there’s no reason for me to come over.”
Abruptly, the reason for his distress became clear. Tess gazed tenderly at his woebegone face, her heart melting. “Oh, Mike.” She grabbed his hand and squeezed it between both of hers and looked deep into his eyes. “Of course there’s a reason for you to come over. We’re friends. That’s all the reason you need. You’re welcome to visit me anytime you like.”
Mike looked up, a glimmer of hope in his blue eyes. “Really? You mean it?” His voice broke, sliding from a manly baritone into a squeak, but for once he didn’t look discomfited.
“Yes, of course I mean it. The truth is, I’ll be hurt if you don’t come over often. I’m new here, remember. You’re the only one in the whole complex I know. If you don’t visit me I’m going to be terribly lonely.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” he said, perking up dramatically. “I’ll be here. I promise.”
“Good.” She gave his hand a brisk pat. “Now that we have that settled, you’d better hurry if you’re going to that game with your father.”
“Jeez! I almost forgot. I’ve gotta get cleaned up before he gets home.” He took off at a lope. Smiling, Tess followed more slowly. She waddled into the living room just in time to see Mike streak out the front door. “Bye, Tess! See ya tomorrow!”
Chuckling, she shook her head and eased down onto the sofa.
Tess was getting so large, her body was becoming more cumbersome by the day. Almost all movement was awkward for her, but sitting down was particularly difficult. Getting up was even worse.
Leaning forward, Tess stuffed a pillow behind her back and lifted her feet onto the hassock. With a sigh, she leaned back and splayed her hands on top of her swollen tummy.
“Well, baby. Here we are. This is home now. No matter what anyone else thinks, I know I’m doing the right thing. When you get here, you’re going to have my time. All my time.”
Beneath her palms, the baby kicked as though he or she understood, and Tess smiled. “And you know what else? We’re going to make each other happy, too, you and I. We’d better,” she added with a wry chuckle. “We’re all we’ve got. It’s just the two of us, sweetheart.”
Tess had read that a newborn infant recognized its mother’s voice from hearing it while in the womb, and that the baby drew comfort from the sound. It worried her that, living alone as she did, she seldom had anyone with whom to talk. To compensate, she had started carrying on one-sided conversations with her unborn child so that the baby would grow accustomed to her voice. Also, it made Tess feel less alone.
Rubbing her distended abdomen, Tess wrinkled her nose. “Well…actually…that’s not absolutely true. There is your daddy’s family. But the Bensons live way up north. And anyway, they and your daddy were estranged. That means they didn’t get along,” she added in a confiding whisper.
“Not that the Bensons are bad people, mind you. In fact, they’re considered pillars of Boston society. The problem is they’re…well…managing.” Actually, Tom had called them manipulative and domineering, but she hesitated to use such harsh words when talking to the baby. They were also distant and snooty, but Tess kept that thought to herself. “That’s why Daddy stayed away from them. And somehow I don’t think he would like for us to go to them for help, either.”
The baby kicked again, and Tess moved her hands over her tummy in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. Resting her head against the edge of the sofa back, she gazed at the ceiling through half-closed eyes. During her six-year marriage to Tom she had met his parents only once—briefly—when they had come to town to attend some sort of charity gala. She and Tom had met them for dinner at a posh restaurant, where they had endured three interminable hours of stiff, at times interrogating, conversation. She had gotten the impression that the elder Bensons had not been all that taken with her.
Tess shook her head at the memory, a bemused half-smile tugging at her lips. It still boggled her mind that her warm, loving, unpretentious husband had been the offspring of two such stuffed shirts as Harold and Enid Benson.
Tess knew Tom’s older brother Charles only slightly better. He had visited them three or four times when he’d been in town on family business. Though not as stiff as his parents, he was ultra sophisticated and polished, but at least he had made a halfhearted effort to be friendly.
As yet, the Bensons did not know about the baby. The last contact she’d had with any of them—Charles included—had been at Tom’s funeral, and she hadn’t known then that she was pregnant. She had written to them twice but received no reply. She could only conclude that to Tom’s family, his death had severed whatever tenuous tie had existed between them.
Should she write and tell them about the baby? Tess groaned. She had been asking herself that question for months. On the one hand, it seemed wrong not to. But on the other hand, she was uneasy about how they would react to the news. Tom had always maintained that the only way to remain independent from his family was to have as little to do with them as possible. She certainly did not want them interfering or trying to take control of her child, as they had tried to control Tom.
Tess didn’t know what to do, so she kept putting the decision off. There was plenty of time.
From the McCalls’ apartment on the other side of her living room wall, came the faint sound of a shower running and Mike singing at the top of his lungs in his cracked voice. Tess grinned and closed her eyes. A minute later she heard Ryan McCall climb the stairs and enter the apartment.
Suddenly an idea occurred to her. Tess opened her eyes and sat up, mulling it over. Of course. Why hadn’t she thought of it sooner. She had been trying to come up with a way to thank Mike properly for all his help, and this was perfect. She would do it right now.
Getting up off the sofa proved difficult but after three tries she finally heaved herself to her feet and headed for the telephone.
Mike’s father answered on the second ring.
“Mr. McCall, this is Tess Benson. I—”
“Mike can’t come to the phone right now,” he said shortly. “He’s in the shower. You’ll have to call back later.”
“Oh, but I’m not calling for Mike,” Tess said in a rush, sensing he was about to hang up. “I called to talk to you.”
The statement met dead silence at the other end of the line.
Suddenly, Tess felt uneasy and she wasn’t sure why. “I uh…I called to invite you and Mike over for dinner Friday night. After all he’s done to hel—”
“No.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I said no. I’m turning down your invitation.”
“I…” Tess was so flustered she could barely think. She had never met anyone quite as abrupt as Ryan McCall. “Oh. I see. Well, look, if Friday isn’t convenient we can make it—”
“The answer would still be no. It isn’t a matter of inconvenience. I’m simply not interested in having dinner with you.”
Tess was shocked to the core of her being. She could not utter a sound, and for several seconds the line hummed with a stunned silence. Never in her life had anyone spoken to her with such brutal frankness. Hadn’t the man ever heard of tact or social grace?
Finally Tess cleared her throat. “I see. Mr. McCall, have I offended you in some way? If so, I assure you it was unintentional.”
“Very good, Mrs. Benson. That really sounded sincere. But you’re wasting your time.”
“I—Pardon me? I don’t