The Country Guesthouse (Sullivan's Crossing #5)(38)

“Water?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“Not too much. Mostly ice.”

“Look out, Owen,” he said. “She’s drinking hard tonight.”

Who can blame me, she thought. When he brought back the drinks, she lifted hers in a little toast and said, “Here’s to motherhood—on-the-job training.”

“You’re doing fine, you know.”

“I have to clear up that little misunderstanding about where Noah came from. I know what happened—Erin told me about it. She had a pamphlet about explaining eggs and sperm to young children. I think Sharon or Kate gave it to her. It wasn’t that long ago, a year or so, when he wanted to know where his father was. Erin told him he didn’t technically have one, at least not in the usual way. Usually married ladies make their babies with their husbands but Erin didn’t have a husband and she still wanted to be a mother more than anything. She explained that not all married people are lucky enough to have babies—not all women have the eggs and not all men have the sperm and it takes those two things, every time, in almost all animals on earth. But for human men and women sometimes when someone has more than they need, they donate for people who don’t have enough. So even though she didn’t have a husband, there was a place she could go and get that donated sperm. She told him she went to a sperm bank to find a father for her baby and she must have picked the best one available because he was perfect. She explained it as a little like adoption except this way she got to be pregnant and feel him grow inside her, which was so special. She tried to explain that it was private business and if anyone wanted to know where his father was he should just explain that that’s private family business. Somehow the ‘bank’ turned into a store in his mind and he forgot it was private. And isn’t it a wonder no cabbages were thrown in, as well.”

“Well, that’s just remarkable,” Owen said. “What an amazing mind he has.”

“I know. He’s teaching me things every day. I think he’s done letting me see him in his underwear now.”

“Kind of sounds like it,” Owen said.

“I have a huge, huge favor to ask you.”

“No, I’m not going to explain the sperm bank to Noah...”

“Not that,” she said. “Even though I didn’t get a clear job description, I know what I have to do. No, my girlfriends, Sharon and Kate, they want to see us and get a look at you. Can you stand a lot of company? I could ask them to wait until you go to Vietnam but Sharon doesn’t have much time to screw around. She’s due to have a baby in about six weeks. And they do want to get to know you.”

“Bring them on,” he said. “How many of them?”

“Kate, Phil and only two of their kids—Phil’s three kids from his first marriage will be with their mom. Sharon, John, their three-year-old and Sharon’s big belly. So, not counting the belly, seven.”

He smiled reassuringly. “If I pass this test, can I keep you awhile?”

“You might be stuck with me either way.”

“I can do that,” he said.

  Hannah was conscious that for the first time she was not at all nervous at the prospect of introducing her best friends to her boyfriend. Not only was she completely confident in Owen, she also didn’t care what they thought—she adored him.

The third weekend in June would bring the friends for a long weekend—from Thursday to Tuesday. Owen asked her to go shopping with him to stock up. He wanted to fill up the kitchen with food, drink, plenty of ice cream and needed her input. The kids were three, four and seven. Add in Noah, who was five. When she tried to help pay, he wouldn’t have it. “Come on, let me play the host. Unless my sister or ex-wife visits, I’m mostly alone or on the road.”

“You must make sure Sheila and her kids come soon,” Hannah said. “I can’t wait for that.”

“I have a feeling the two of you will roast me.”

“But not badly.”

He also wanted to make sure there were plenty of fishing poles, life vests, floaty toys and games. He dragged out cornhole boards and beanbags for pitching games, the small firepit with a screen cover for safety and to keep sparks at a minimum, some fireworks and sparklers.

“Are you going to buy a boat?” she asked him.

“I wish I had a boat,” he said. “The truth is I have no interest in a boat, but just now I wish I had one.”

He complained that he’d gone through a lot of wine since meeting Hannah and he usually ordered his wine from various vintners but this time he had to make do with a case from the liquor store, along with beer and sodas.

There were plenty of towels, since he was set up as a rental home. Mrs. Bourne with her daughter and daughter-in-law came to give the place a freshening and Hannah couldn’t help herself. She pitched in, cleaning with them. Mrs. Bourne chattered the whole time.

“So you’ve been here over a month, is it? And staying on, are you? With that cute little boy of yours? You and Mr. Owen must be working out just excellent then, if you’re still here. I’ve been looking for a woman for that kind man and I have to say, he did right well with you! And little Noah will go to school in Timberlake? And maybe take some trips with Mr. Owen, I suppose. And I guess I’ll be cleaning up for a wedding one of these years! No pressure—you should be sure—but I don’t know how much better you can do but Mr. Owen!”