Paradise Valley (Virgin River #7)(39)

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, there’s nothing to suggest we have a high-risk pregnancy, but it’s pretty common for the mothers of twins to go on bed rest for a while to delay labor while they grow and get stronger. And when babies come, it’s often early and fast. And taking care of them as newborns is pretty demanding. Also, you have a financial situation that’s giving you some stress. And—”

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Sheesh. I’m not too worried about bed rest, I’m in good health and I have Vanni and Mel. John Stone is watching real close for early and fast. My mom will come as soon as they arrive and—”

“So will mine,” he said, and she actually grabbed her belly.

“What?”

“Oh yeah. We can hold her off for a week, maybe, but these are her grandchildren and she’s never missed a grandchild’s debut.”

“Have you told her?” she asked, aghast.

“Not yet,” he said, twirling a little spaghetti around his fork. “But I have to do that. It’s going to be hard enough to explain not telling her sooner and making sure she had a chance to meet you. They’re not just our children, Ab. They have grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins…et cetera…on my side of this family as well as yours.”

“Oh God,” she said, dropping her fork. “I don’t feel so good.”

He just laughed lightly. “Relax. Nothing to worry about. They’re fantastic people and you’ll be real happy to have them in your life, I guarantee it.”

“But won’t they think… I mean, we’re not married and—”

He shrugged, got up and fetched himself a beer from the old refrigerator, using the underside of his heavy class ring to pop the top. “I’m sure they’ve heard of things like this before. A man and woman, not married, having children. But telling my family is just one item on this list. Abby, the list is long. We have so many things to work through before you go into labor. And not all that much time to do it.”

She rested her forehead in her hand, her elbow on the table. “Hit me with another one. What else do we have to work out?”

“Do you have cribs? Clothes? Gear—car seats, diaper bags, et cetera?”

“I should make a run to the mall,” she said absently. “You’re right. I have to get moving on this. But, I talked to my mom about all this stuff and we decided, since I didn’t want anyone to know I’m pregnant, we’re not saying anything to friends and family. Then when they come, after they’ve gotten a couple of months old, we’ll send announcements. I’m even thinking of fudging the birthday. I hate to do that, but… So, no showers or early gifts or any of that. I’ll take care of the newborn items. It’s the only way—”

“Where are you on that debt from your ex you’re working through?”

“Close,” she said, sitting straighter and smiling, very proud of herself. “Very close. I’ve put almost all the money he sent me toward the credit-card bills, just using a tiny smidgen of that money for incidentals. I have just six thousand left to pay.” She beamed. She tasted a little more spaghetti, a little more salad. “I wouldn’t have used any of his money, or any of the money my folks insisted on sending, but I’m tapped out and had to. I had to have maternity clothes—Lord, did I need maternity clothes! Do you see this? I’m growing out of Vanni’s largest hand-me-downs!”

Cameron’s expression darkened. He shook his head, took a swig of his beer and muttered, “He has millions! What a nasty thing to do to an innocent woman! I hope that son of a bitch burns in hell.”

“Cameron! What a thing to say!” Then she smiled. “And I couldn’t have said it better.”

“Okay, let’s start with that, then we’ll get to our mothers. I’d like you to stop endorsing his checks and I’ll clear that debt. Then—”

She was shaking her head. “No, I’ve got it all worked out. It won’t be much longer—just another month or two and then—”

“Abby, I talked to Brie Valenzuela. She said to tell you to drop in and see her anytime. I’d be happy to go with you. Here’s the way she sees it. He probably just stuck you with those bills on his lawyer’s advice. In any case, the debt was a part of the dissolution of the marriage, which means it’s court-ordered and you’re stuck with it. But if he wants to chase down that prenup and try to prove you had sex with someone before the divorce was final, he’ll have to take you to a civil court to sue you. It’s not a felony, it couldn’t make criminal court—no one would prosecute you for it. It would cost him more to sue you than he’d get if he won. And if he does take you back to court, he’s going to look like the devil himself—he walks out on you after six weeks of marriage, never pays a penny of support for nine months of separation while he openly lives with another woman, and he wants over forty thousand dollars in credit-card debt on cards you never had and never used? When he’s a millionaire? Never going to happen. He could make his situation worse.”

“That’s not what my lawyer said,” she inserted.

“Which is why I talked to another one. Brie’s a very experienced former state prosecutor and has been through a divorce of her own.”