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“All I can say is that I am sorry,” he said. “I’ll always love you, Mercy. And I will go to my grave regretting what I did.” He took in a ragged breath and slumped back in his seat. “I’ll understand if you don’t want me to be a part of your life anymore.”
Seeing the regret written across his face, a face that had been a part of my world since I spent my days dressing like a tomboy and climbing trees, convinced me that even though I might never marry him, I’d always want him around. Dishonesty didn’t come naturally to Peter. “Well, it’s a little too late for all that, seeing as how we are having a baby.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “What?”
“We’re having a baby, Peter. Ellen felt it in me, and she’s never wrong about these things.”
His face morphed from the red mask of guilt I’d been looking at a moment ago to the ashen white of fear and then settled into a glow of joy. “Oh, Mercy. I don’t deserve this,” he said reaching out to me, trying to pull me to him for a kiss.
I slapped his hand away, and his eyes went wide with fear and regret. “We’re having a baby together,” I said firmly. “That doesn’t mean that we’re together, or that we’re going to be.”
“I’m sorry,” he said and retreated to the far side of the truck’s cab.
“I haven’t forgiven you yet,” I said. “I will. I must. My child will not grow up without his father. Ellen says it’s a boy by the way. We’ll name him Colin after your dad, and we’ll celebrate every holiday and birthday together. But,” I concluded, “that does not mean I am going to be your wife. You hear me?”
“Yes, I hear you,” he said meekly. “It’s more than I have the right to ask for.”
My piece had been spoken, and whatever anger I was holding had been spent. I looked over at his sweet face. “It’s going take time for me to move past this, but I’ll try. For Colin’s sake.”
“Okay,” was all he said, relief written all over his face.
“That’s enough about us for now,” I said. “We have family business to attend to.”
“I should get out of here then and leave you to it,” he said and tried to smile.
“Sorry there, buddy,” I responded as I climbed out of the truck. “You are most definitely family now. Get on in here.”
When we entered the house, we found Ellen in the library, busy boxing up Connor’s phonograph albums. “Charity truck is coming for all of this tomorrow. Kind of a shame,” she said. “For a total prick, he had good taste in music.”
“We’re doing this so fast?” I asked.
“It’s what Iris wants.” She turned away from her task and took a seat on the love seat. “So you two have spoken.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Peter replied.
Before risking a faux pas, Ellen gave me a lingering look to make sure that I’d really told Peter about the child. I nodded my head. “Good,” she said. “And may I ask what you’ve decided to do about the baby?”
“We’re going to have it,” I responded, and Ellen jumped up and took me in her arms, spinning me around.
“Oh, I’m so happy,” she said. “It has been far too long since this house has had a child, a real child in it,” she said, thinking of Wren. “With all the death that’s struck our family lately, it will be wonderful to have a birth to look forward to.”
For the first time, I let myself feel the joy of having a child growing in me. “Yes. This is going to be good for all of us,” I said. I motioned for Peter to take a seat as Ellen and I settled onto the love seat. “Ever since you told me I was pregnant, I haven’t been able to focus on anything else but now I need to know, how is Iris doing?”
Ellen licked her lips and looked at the floor, and I could tell that she was trying to work out what she needed to say. “Iris is devastated,” she finally began. “She has been forced to see that the man she loved, and God only knows why she loved him, was a monster, a murderer. She has a black, black anger against him, and she wants him to pay for what he tried to do to you. But Connor—or, rather, the man she thought Connor was—was the only man in the world for her. And while she’s angry at what he did to you, she hasn’t even begun to get angry over all the things he did to her. She has a lot to reconcile, a lot to move past.”
“Should I go tell her about the baby?” I asked.
“Sweetie, she is going to be so happy to learn about the baby. He may be the only thing that helps pull her through this mess. But she isn’t here now. She and Oliver are down at the police station.”
“Why?” I asked.
“They had to go answer some questions. You see, Iris served as Connor’s alibi for the day of the murder. When she handed over that forged suicide letter, Cook wanted to know why she’d lied for her husband.”
“They aren’t going to charge her with anything?” Peter asked.
Ellen practically snorted. “Please, Oliver went with her to make sure that wouldn’t happen. He’ll get her off the hook and probably find some way to get himself laid in the process. But I’m afraid I do have some vexing news. We got word today that some of the families are sending their representatives for Maisie’s investment ceremony early. They’ve heard about what happened with Connor and Wren—the truth, not the nonsense we’ve fed the police—and they’ve decided that they should come early to ‘help us out’ with the preparations due to our ‘bereavement.’ ”
