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“It’s all part of something they call management,” he continued. “You learn how to manage yourself, your very life, rather than simply ‘live’ it. Because only then can you hope to function in society.”
It broke her heart to hear him say that. And yet, she knew instantly that he was telling her the truth.
“Then I’ll wait,” she said, vowing that there would be a day, someday, when Blake would be able to tell her everything. Just one friend talking to another.
HE HAD TO GO. Ten o’clock was rolling around, and Annie needed to get some rest. And he had a long drive back to San Antonio.
But he couldn’t leave yet. Not without hearing what had happened that day. He’d pretty much figured out she wasn’t pregnant. He just wasn’t sure where she was going next with that part of her life.And whether or not he was still part of the plan.
He didn’t know how to broach the subject. Didn’t want to upset her again.
“Talk to me, sweetie.”
Her fingers curled around the edges of his shirt. “Do you think I’m wrong, Blake? To want a child, even though I have no intention of getting married?”
That’s what this was all about?
“Of course not. I wouldn’t have agreed to help you if I thought that. The world has changed so much since we were kids,” he said. “With the Internet making the planet so much smaller, more accessible, people are moving around more, leaving very few of us with lives like you find here in River Bluff—lives where folks live in the same houses for decades, and where they end up married to their neighbor. Their kids go to the same schools they went to, and their first-grade teacher becomes the older lady sitting next to them in the church choir.”
Another one of his fantasies during his time away—one of his favorites—had been to imagine growing up in such a town. Being a hometown boy, with roots that reached back generations. In those dreams, he’d even gone as far as to build and furnish the house that he’d always lived in.
And moved Annie in with him.
They’d had four kids. One child to hold with each hand.
“Women have careers now. A good many mothers aren’t at home, waiting for their kids with cookies and milk, when school gets out. And with all the changes comes a higher divorce rate, too, which means more single-parent homes. It’s more the norm than not, I sometimes think.”
Annie hadn’t moved. She finally murmured, “Becky’s on the brink of having real problems with her son, and she’s feeling completely ineffective. She can see that he’s headed for trouble, and can’t seem to do, or threaten to do, anything that will turn him around. He needs a father figure.”
“I thought she lived with her dad.”
“He’s a retired sheriff. A real stickler. And far too strict. He always was, which is why the Wild Bunch dared Luke Chisum to ask her out, even though Hub Parker threatened to kill him if he ever caught Luke, his next-door neighbor, around his daughter.”
“You think she dated Luke to get back at her father? Not because she really liked him?”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong.” Annie’s voice was growing stronger. “Becky loved Luke with all her heart—a heart that man broke when he left town and joined the army.”
There was no doubt what Annie thought of Luke’s choice. But Blake wondered if she liked the man himself.
He certainly did.
“Some boys get into trouble whether they’re with two parents or one, a mother or a father,” he said. “Maybe it’s something in the hormones, that drive to get out there and see for yourself. To be in control of one’s own destiny, even when, in fact, he’s too young to have any idea what that might be.”
“Maybe,” she said. “Becky’s done a great job with Shane, though. She’s done her best. But she didn’t choose single parenthood. It was thrust upon her. Any fa
ilures aren’t her fault.”
Blake didn’t miss the innuendo, pointing right back at herself, and he hated to hear so much self-doubt from someone who knew her own mind so well. Blake had to go, but he couldn’t leave things like this.
“In the first place, if and when you do have a baby, you’re going to be a great mother, Annie. Failure isn’t something you need to worry about.”
And—he wanted to add—if our deal is still on, you aren’t going to be doing this alone. That child will have a father figure.
Just not one who slept with his mom.
“If and when?” Annie asked, sitting up, her hand still on his chest, almost as if she’d forgotten it was there. “Didn’t Mom tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
