her shoulders and firmly knotted the belt while walking to the bathroom.
Bleep, bleep, bleep. Jenny looked at the caller ID on her phone—Michael. Her hand hovered over the cell, then dropped to her side. She couldn’t talk to him now. There was little Jenny wouldn’t do for her baby brother, but she just didn’t have it in her to be cheerful today.
She looked at the clock—lunchtime. What if Michael had a problem? Maybe he was sick and the nurse couldn’t get hold of Mom. He started high school this year and so far he’d transitioned nicely, but fourteen-year-olds were quixotic and hormonal. She picked up the phone and played back his message.
“Hey, Jen. You didn’t forget my game today, right? It’s home. Mom said to ask if you’re eating with us.” He lowered his voice, “I wouldn’t—she made beef stroganoff again . Let’s go out. You ask. She won’t say no to you.”
Jenny smiled and shook her head as she erased the message. That kid always had an angle and wasn’t above using her to get his way. Too bad he was so damn cute. She sighed. Maybe it’d be good for her to get out and go to his game.
She picked up her phone, texting, 3:30. Be there.
After showering and dressing in ratty sweats, she let a whining Ritz out of the house. The poor dog had been totally baffled by the continual flow of people and Jenny’s weepiness. She sometimes whined and looked at the door, then ran from room to room, searching for Gabe. Or maybe she sensed his spirit watching them, Jenny fantasized. Whatever Ritz’s canine intuition, she rarely left Jenny’s side for more than a few minutes, as if fearing Jenny would fall apart without her.
Well, no more. Jenny was going to pull herself together. She’d start by collecting the mail, then going to Michael’s soccer game. It was a beautiful crisp day, but she didn’t stop to appreciate the smells and sunshine as she normally would have.
Jenny hurried to the mailbox and was surprised and disheartened by the volume of mail stuffed inside. A few were bills, but most were private cards. For once Jenny longed for more bills and junk mail instead of the well-meaning condolences she knew awaited her behind the flowing handwritten envelopes and gold Hallmark seals.
She tossed the mail onto the desk in the study, took out Gabe’s letter opener, and began slashing open envelope after envelope until all the mail lay exposed like her raw nerves. Carefully, she placed the bills to one side and then turned her attention to the much larger stack of correspondence requiring a response.
When the doorbell rang, she wanted to ignore it; on the other hand, it gave her an excuse to escape the sentimental notes sure to make her cry. A glance through the peek hole showed a messenger. She opened the door, allowing Ritz’s head to protrude.
“Jennifer Harrison?”
“Yes?”
“This is for you.” He handed her an envelope, then walked away.
Jenny frowned at the envelope, showing the return address of Schimmel and Rinehardt, Attorneys at Law, as she pushed the door closed. Ripping open the envelope, she stood stunned. He’d done it. George was actually suing her.
How dare he? Anger rippled through her, building in furious waves. Having Gabe’s baby was none of his business. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Gabe was gone, but she could have his baby and she would. George Turner could go to hell.
Jenny picked up the phone but didn’t know whom to call. Judith would be at work, and although they’d achieved a weird sort of friendship, they weren’t all that close. Though Jenny had to give her credit, Judith kept calling weekly and offering to help in any way she could.
Jenny’s parents didn’t know about her plans to have a baby. Knowing her mother, she’d probably protest something so nontraditional. Nope, they wouldn’t be supportive. Which left…who? Steve? She hadn’t seen much of him lately. He’d attended the wake and funeral, but Annie had
Bleep, bleep, bleep. Jenny looked at the caller ID on her phone—Michael. Her hand hovered over the cell, then dropped to her side. She couldn’t talk to him now. There was little Jenny wouldn’t do for her baby brother, but she just didn’t have it in her to be cheerful today.
She looked at the clock—lunchtime. What if Michael had a problem? Maybe he was sick and the nurse couldn’t get hold of Mom. He started high school this year and so far he’d transitioned nicely, but fourteen-year-olds were quixotic and hormonal. She picked up the phone and played back his message.
“Hey, Jen. You didn’t forget my game today, right? It’s home. Mom said to ask if you’re eating with us.” He lowered his voice, “I wouldn’t—she made beef stroganoff again . Let’s go out. You ask. She won’t say no to you.”
Jenny smiled and shook her head as she erased the message. That kid always had an angle and wasn’t above using her to get his way. Too bad he was so damn cute. She sighed. Maybe it’d be good for her to get out and go to his game.
She picked up her phone, texting, 3:30. Be there.
After showering and dressing in ratty sweats, she let a whining Ritz out of the house. The poor dog had been totally baffled by the continual flow of people and Jenny’s weepiness. She sometimes whined and looked at the door, then ran from room to room, searching for Gabe. Or maybe she sensed his spirit watching them, Jenny fantasized. Whatever Ritz’s canine intuition, she rarely left Jenny’s side for more than a few minutes, as if fearing Jenny would fall apart without her.
Well, no more. Jenny was going to pull herself together. She’d start by collecting the mail, then going to Michael’s soccer game. It was a beautiful crisp day, but she didn’t stop to appreciate the smells and sunshine as she normally would have.
Jenny hurried to the mailbox and was surprised and disheartened by the volume of mail stuffed inside. A few were bills, but most were private cards. For once Jenny longed for more bills and junk mail instead of the well-meaning condolences she knew awaited her behind the flowing handwritten envelopes and gold Hallmark seals.
She tossed the mail onto the desk in the study, took out Gabe’s letter opener, and began slashing open envelope after envelope until all the mail lay exposed like her raw nerves. Carefully, she placed the bills to one side and then turned her attention to the much larger stack of correspondence requiring a response.
When the doorbell rang, she wanted to ignore it; on the other hand, it gave her an excuse to escape the sentimental notes sure to make her cry. A glance through the peek hole showed a messenger. She opened the door, allowing Ritz’s head to protrude.
“Jennifer Harrison?”
“Yes?”
“This is for you.” He handed her an envelope, then walked away.
Jenny frowned at the envelope, showing the return address of Schimmel and Rinehardt, Attorneys at Law, as she pushed the door closed. Ripping open the envelope, she stood stunned. He’d done it. George was actually suing her.
How dare he? Anger rippled through her, building in furious waves. Having Gabe’s baby was none of his business. She wasn’t going to let him get away with this. Gabe was gone, but she could have his baby and she would. George Turner could go to hell.
Jenny picked up the phone but didn’t know whom to call. Judith would be at work, and although they’d achieved a weird sort of friendship, they weren’t all that close. Though Jenny had to give her credit, Judith kept calling weekly and offering to help in any way she could.
Jenny’s parents didn’t know about her plans to have a baby. Knowing her mother, she’d probably protest something so nontraditional. Nope, they wouldn’t be supportive. Which left…who? Steve? She hadn’t seen much of him lately. He’d attended the wake and funeral, but Annie had
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