we thought, but that’s why you fainted. You’re eight weeks pregnant.”
“Hot damn,” Beatrice finally said. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Sheila squealed, and Annie’s hands went to her mouth.
Bill’s eyes caught Vera’s. It was a moment of connection, a moment of acknowledgment. They would set their past right. They would have this child. A botched abortion in the Bronx had left Vera with problems her whole life—problems that they said could never be overcome.
She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she had told Bill all of those years ago.
“But we can do it. We’ll get married and I’ll graduate in two semesters. I’ll pass the bar,” he said to her.
“Bill, I love you. I truly do, but I’m not ready to get married and have a baby. I’ve been working my whole life to be here and work as a dancer. I can’t do this right now,” Vera told him.
What she hadn’t told him was that it was only a fifty-fifty chance that he was the father. She had met a dancer from Brooklyn during her last show, and Tony was long gone by the time she knew she was pregnant. He was on the road with a Broadway show. He called her a few times and sent a couple of scorching letters.
She and Bill had been going steady for years when she met Tony. From the minute she saw his huge, deep brown eyes, she knew she wanted to sleep with him, but she would not admit that to herself. It was the late 1980s, and she was in the thick of the arts and dance communities. Even though sex was everywhere—she had only slept with Bill. She always believed sex was part of love. It was the Southern good girl in her. She could never shake it. As much as she wanted to be young, hip, and loose, she was who she was. So love came with sex.
But love had nothing to do with the way she felt about Tony. It was as if something reached inside her and made her insides twist. When they were partnered for a very sensual dance, every move was like torture. He held her hand and she felt sparks. He touched her hip and she just wanted to wrap her strong legs around him. When their eyes met, her heart leaped—just like in the romance novels she used to read. When he smiled, showing off deep dimples, it hurt so much that she sometimes could not look at him. When she leaned against him one night—they were all alone in the studio and it was late—she felt his erection. And there was no denying it. She reached up and touched his dark hair, which was soft, even though it was wet with sweat.
“Tony—”
“From the minute we touched, I felt something. Did you?” he asked breathlessly.
She nodded her head. She was sweating and her heart was racing. They had been dancing all night. But as he lifted her to him and lodged her against the wall, her legs automatically found their place around him. Effortless. Sublime.
There was a reason they were partnered in the show—their bodies suited one another’s. And as they found out that night, no partnering could have ever been more sweet.
As she looked into her husband’s eyes now, she wished she could dwell in the comfort of knowing she had made the right choice. She touched his face, now streaming with tears. “Oh, Bill,” she said. Suddenly she realized everybody else had left the room, including her mother. He was the one she chose; the one who chose her. She made a life with him and never really regretted it, but she sometimes longed for the abandon she had felt in Tony’s arms. And now she would be blessed with a child. It was the child she should have had years ago.
Chapter 17
Ben and Sam were running around in the front yard with no clothes on. Completely naked. Annie couldn’t help but laugh as she saw her husband chasing them around the yard. He wielded a huge water pistol, which was squirting them.
“Ahh,” he said, noticing her at the gate. “Finally. Help!” He fell down on the grass and the boys pounced on him.
Annie opened the gate and jumped on her boys, rolling over
“Hot damn,” Beatrice finally said. “I’m going to be a grandmother.”
Sheila squealed, and Annie’s hands went to her mouth.
Bill’s eyes caught Vera’s. It was a moment of connection, a moment of acknowledgment. They would set their past right. They would have this child. A botched abortion in the Bronx had left Vera with problems her whole life—problems that they said could never be overcome.
She wasn’t ready to be a mother, she had told Bill all of those years ago.
“But we can do it. We’ll get married and I’ll graduate in two semesters. I’ll pass the bar,” he said to her.
“Bill, I love you. I truly do, but I’m not ready to get married and have a baby. I’ve been working my whole life to be here and work as a dancer. I can’t do this right now,” Vera told him.
What she hadn’t told him was that it was only a fifty-fifty chance that he was the father. She had met a dancer from Brooklyn during her last show, and Tony was long gone by the time she knew she was pregnant. He was on the road with a Broadway show. He called her a few times and sent a couple of scorching letters.
She and Bill had been going steady for years when she met Tony. From the minute she saw his huge, deep brown eyes, she knew she wanted to sleep with him, but she would not admit that to herself. It was the late 1980s, and she was in the thick of the arts and dance communities. Even though sex was everywhere—she had only slept with Bill. She always believed sex was part of love. It was the Southern good girl in her. She could never shake it. As much as she wanted to be young, hip, and loose, she was who she was. So love came with sex.
But love had nothing to do with the way she felt about Tony. It was as if something reached inside her and made her insides twist. When they were partnered for a very sensual dance, every move was like torture. He held her hand and she felt sparks. He touched her hip and she just wanted to wrap her strong legs around him. When their eyes met, her heart leaped—just like in the romance novels she used to read. When he smiled, showing off deep dimples, it hurt so much that she sometimes could not look at him. When she leaned against him one night—they were all alone in the studio and it was late—she felt his erection. And there was no denying it. She reached up and touched his dark hair, which was soft, even though it was wet with sweat.
“Tony—”
“From the minute we touched, I felt something. Did you?” he asked breathlessly.
She nodded her head. She was sweating and her heart was racing. They had been dancing all night. But as he lifted her to him and lodged her against the wall, her legs automatically found their place around him. Effortless. Sublime.
There was a reason they were partnered in the show—their bodies suited one another’s. And as they found out that night, no partnering could have ever been more sweet.
As she looked into her husband’s eyes now, she wished she could dwell in the comfort of knowing she had made the right choice. She touched his face, now streaming with tears. “Oh, Bill,” she said. Suddenly she realized everybody else had left the room, including her mother. He was the one she chose; the one who chose her. She made a life with him and never really regretted it, but she sometimes longed for the abandon she had felt in Tony’s arms. And now she would be blessed with a child. It was the child she should have had years ago.
Chapter 17
Ben and Sam were running around in the front yard with no clothes on. Completely naked. Annie couldn’t help but laugh as she saw her husband chasing them around the yard. He wielded a huge water pistol, which was squirting them.
“Ahh,” he said, noticing her at the gate. “Finally. Help!” He fell down on the grass and the boys pounced on him.
Annie opened the gate and jumped on her boys, rolling over
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