Page 53 of One Last Gift

“Is it…?”

“Yes. Tom’s the father.” She took a breath, her shoulders heaving with the effort. “I’m sorry. I found out a few weeks before Tom died, and then I just didn’t…I didn’t know what to do, whether I wanted to…”

“Keep it?” Cassie finished, but her tone was nonjudgmental. She shook her head, not to condemn Amy, just trying to get her head around it. Of course Amy wouldn’t have known if she’d wanted the baby. She couldn’t imagine having to contemplate it—giving birth when the father was already dead. Cassie took a slow, painful breath. “I think we ought to sit down,” she told Amy, who nodded, eyes wide, almost fearful-looking. Like she was worried about what Cassie would think. Cassie tried to smile reassuringly. “I’ll finish this,” she said, gesturing at the kettle.

She made two peppermint teas while Amy sat down in the living room on the blue sofa, and the mundane action calmed her a little. She brought the mugs through, set one down next to Amy, then sat in the armchair opposite. “So,” she said. “Umm…wow.”

Amy gave a short, breathless laugh. “Yeah. Wow is right.”

“How are you feeling?”

Amy shook her head, her curls, kept in place by a blue headband today, bouncing. “I’ll be honest. I’ve been a bit of an emotional mess.” She picked up her tea and cupped it in her hands.

“Yeah. I can imagine.” Cassie paused. She had absolutely no idea what to say. She should’ve noticed. She should have noticed before now that something was up, should have paid more attention to Amy when they met at the hotel a few months ago. How had Amy managed to hide it? Cassie tried to think back to their meeting. The signs were there. The loose clothing, the decaf coffee. But clearly, she’d been too wrapped up in her own life that she hadn’t been looking hard enough at what was in front of her. “Amy, I’m so sorry that I—”

Amy held up a hand to stop her. “Don’t. If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I just…”

“I know,” Cassie whispered. Because she got it. She really did think she got it. She flicked her gaze around the living room—around Tom’s living room—again, and Amy followed the movement.

“Linda helped to pack up the flat,” Amy said quietly, “but I still find the occasional thing of his, you know? I wanted to move, but at the same time I couldn’t bear to part with the place that has all the memories of him, so I’ve just been…in limbo, I suppose.” Cassie nodded. She thought she understood what Amy meant—that’s how she felt herself. Less so since she’d started the treasure hunt, but it still flared up, now and then. Like she was trying to escape the memories, the pain, and yet trying to hold on to everything at the same time.

Cassie hesitated. But she had to ask, had to know. “Did Tom know?” she asked quietly.

Amy met her gaze, held it. “Yes.”

“But he said…He said you guys had broken up.”

Tears sprang into Amy’s eyes. “Yes. I told him and he…” She heaved in a breath, apparently unable to finish the sentence. Cassie couldn’t speak right away, either. She stared at Amy, not understanding. Or not wanting to understand, trying to finish the sentence in different ways in her mind. Amy stemmed a sob. “He said he couldn’t handle it, said he needed some time away from it. And I got mad—this was happening to both of us, you know? It wasn’t only him who had to deal with it—and I wanted him to commit to it, to me, to say we’d raise the baby together, because I wanted it.” Her words were coming more quickly, blurring into one mass. “It was an accident, but I wanted it—and I wanted it with him. I wanted us to be a family. But he just left.” She was crying now, her shoulders heaving with the sobs, and Cassie, trying to stem her own tears, stood up and went to sit next to Amy on the sofa, putting an arm around her.

“I…” Cassie swallowed. “I’m not sure what to say.” It didn’t make sense to her. Tom had ditched Amy as soon as he found out she was pregnant? Surely not. That wasn’t like him.

She’d been so scathing about Sam leaving Jessica on their wedding day. Was this any better, leaving your long-term girlfriend when she got pregnant? No, Cassie thought firmly. What Sam had done was worse—the wedding had been planned, and there had been plenty of opportunities to get out of it. This would have sent Tom reeling, and it would’ve been a surprise. She knew, in a distant corner of her mind, that she was trying to make excuses for him. She wanted him to have a clean record, needed to be able to think of him as the perfect big brother.

“Are you going to keep it?” she asked quietly. Surely, with the timeline, Amy had decided to go through with the pregnancy, but there was still a chance she was considering giving the baby up for adoption.

“Yes.” Her voice was a little stronger. “Yes, I’m keeping it. And I’m sorry, I wanted to be sure of that before I told you, because I didn’t want to make you sad about it—and then I felt like I’d left it too long and I was trying to figure out how to tell you. I wrote a message so many times, but nothing sounded quite right.”

“Let’s just make a deal that neither of us apologizes, OK?” Amy pressed her lips together, but nodded. “Besides, I’m glad I know now, and that’s the most important thing.” She reached out, took Amy’s hand in hers. “And if you need help, Amy, with anything—I’m here, OK? I’ll be around more, I promise, and I’m totally up for babysitting when the time comes.” She glanced at Amy’s stomach again. It was Tom’s baby in there. She couldn’t work out exactly how she felt about that. Tom’s baby—a part of him. But something he’d never get to see for himself. Something he’d chosen, apparently, to run from.

Amy smiled, though it was a little watery. “You’re going to be an aunt.”

“Yeah. I suppose I am.” And then the two of them were crying, but the hot, salty tears that traced their way down Cassie’s face felt cathartic, so that when she sobbed herself to a stop, something in her had settled a little.

“So,” Amy said, wiping her own tears away and brushing a stray curl aside, “how’s work?”

It felt so ridiculous, given the enormity of Amy’s news, to be talking about work, that Cassie laughed. “It’s fine, I guess.” She went on to tell Amy about the events exchange weekend that was coming up—about the fact that Robert was actually letting her go to it. In truth though, for the past two months something else had been playing on her mind, too. She couldn’t quite shake the image of the house in Wales, the fact that it was for sale, the potential she’d seen there. The idea of taking something a bit run-down and giving it love, making it shine again.

When Amy went to get them another mug of tea—needing, Cassie sensed, a moment alone—Cassie brought out her phone, opened up her email, and stared at it.

It wasn’t committing to anything, was it, if she just asked a question? Tom would tell her to, she knew, if he was here. There was no harm in asking someone who knew the industry—someone who had donated to keep a local pub going, who had said they had some experience there. Who would know, perhaps, the types of business that succeeded and failed?

Hi. So I know you said you had some experience with local pubs as businesses, and I wondered if you’d mind talking something through with me?

She took a deep breath and sent it. All she wanted, really, was to talk it through with someone who didn’t have any emotional connection—Linda, Hazel, or Josh wouldn’t think in that critical way she thought she needed. So she could ask the question, discuss it, realize how ridiculous the whole idea was, and then put it aside.

It must have been the reason Tom had sent her to that house in the first place—he’d have wanted to plant the idea in her mind.

But then again, maybe she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought. After all, he’d clearly run from Amy, from the baby, because he was scared of committing, scared of that responsibility. So maybe her fearless older brother hadn’t been completely fearless after all.