Read Online A Daring Proposition by Jennifer Greene - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Greene
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nightmares.
***
Two days passed, and then three weeks more, while Leigh filled her days with work, grateful for the concentration that the impersonal facts and figures of her job demanded. She put Brian and babies out of her mind, filling every waking hour with activities designed to cushion her expectations and desperate hopes.
She took the first pregnancy test at the soonest possible moment, on a Monday morning. It was positive, she was told on Tuesday.
Her mood changed abruptly. Driving from the doctor’s office, she found herself laughing out loud with sheer, uninhibited joy. At home, she canceled all appointments, filled the house with flowers, went out and spent a ridiculous amount of money on groceries for dinner—and sent a box of the most expensive cigars she could find to Brian’s office…anonymously. And then she promptly forgot him altogether, as she had for the past three weeks. He could do as he liked; what did she care? Somewhere he had a piece of paper that proclaimed her last name was Hathaway, but if he had changed his mind in the past few weeks she would not press him. She had her baby! Her whole afternoon rolled around the wonder of it, a feeling of love growing inside her, a bubble that could not be burst.
Dinner was a real occasion. To Robert’s consternation, she had forced him into an old sport jacket that he hadn’t worn in fifteen years, and Leigh dressed herself in a long skirt of ice-blue velvet with a matching top. Candles had been placed on the table, and the menu, according to Robert, was not to be believed: fresh lobster, out of season; fresh strawberries, out of season; fresh asparagus, out of season; and champagne.
“Would you mind telling me what we’re celebrating?”
“Can’t we just celebrate?” she suggested impishly.
“You know,” the old man said perceptively, “you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. I’ve never seen you react to your job with quite that sort of color in your cheeks before.”
“I skipped work,” Leigh admitted blithely. “Frankly, Robert, I called in sick and played hookey. I’ve never seen the leaves as beautiful as they are today—it seems as if they all turned at once this fall. And the chestnuts and walnuts are starting to fall.”
“Leaving a godawful mess,” Robert commented.
She chuckled, motioning his hovering figure away from the stove. “The asparagus will take about five more minutes,” she said lightly. “During which time I could either sing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ or ‘Good Night, Irene,’ both of which I happen to know are your favorites.”
“Honey, I do love you, but I shouldn’t like to take the chance that your singing voice might curdle the champagne.”
She laughed and looked at him fondly. In his old tweed jacket and bow tie, Robert had made every effort to look dapper for her nameless celebration. His face was so wrinkled that she could hardly tell where the bones were anymore, and he seemed more frail to her each day, with a slight tinge of blue around his lips that worried her terribly. Still, his mind was so clear and his tongue so sharp, and she really did love him dearly…
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Damn!” Leigh wailed. “Everything’s just done, and it can’t wait or it’ll be spoiled!”
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” Robert soothed her. “It’s probably only that woman across the road still looking for her dog.”
It took a while for Robert to negotiate the steps to the front door. She really should have gone herself, Leigh thought. And she was definitely going to insist that he take it easier around the house.
She opened the pot of asparagus, and steam clouded around her in fragrant puffs, bringing an instant flush to her cheeks. She nearly dropped the lid when she saw Brian standing there, with Robert behind him wearing a thoroughly satisfied grin.
“Just in time,” the older man said happily.
“I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting your dinner,” Brian
***
Two days passed, and then three weeks more, while Leigh filled her days with work, grateful for the concentration that the impersonal facts and figures of her job demanded. She put Brian and babies out of her mind, filling every waking hour with activities designed to cushion her expectations and desperate hopes.
She took the first pregnancy test at the soonest possible moment, on a Monday morning. It was positive, she was told on Tuesday.
Her mood changed abruptly. Driving from the doctor’s office, she found herself laughing out loud with sheer, uninhibited joy. At home, she canceled all appointments, filled the house with flowers, went out and spent a ridiculous amount of money on groceries for dinner—and sent a box of the most expensive cigars she could find to Brian’s office…anonymously. And then she promptly forgot him altogether, as she had for the past three weeks. He could do as he liked; what did she care? Somewhere he had a piece of paper that proclaimed her last name was Hathaway, but if he had changed his mind in the past few weeks she would not press him. She had her baby! Her whole afternoon rolled around the wonder of it, a feeling of love growing inside her, a bubble that could not be burst.
Dinner was a real occasion. To Robert’s consternation, she had forced him into an old sport jacket that he hadn’t worn in fifteen years, and Leigh dressed herself in a long skirt of ice-blue velvet with a matching top. Candles had been placed on the table, and the menu, according to Robert, was not to be believed: fresh lobster, out of season; fresh strawberries, out of season; fresh asparagus, out of season; and champagne.
“Would you mind telling me what we’re celebrating?”
“Can’t we just celebrate?” she suggested impishly.
“You know,” the old man said perceptively, “you look like the cat that swallowed the canary. I’ve never seen you react to your job with quite that sort of color in your cheeks before.”
“I skipped work,” Leigh admitted blithely. “Frankly, Robert, I called in sick and played hookey. I’ve never seen the leaves as beautiful as they are today—it seems as if they all turned at once this fall. And the chestnuts and walnuts are starting to fall.”
“Leaving a godawful mess,” Robert commented.
She chuckled, motioning his hovering figure away from the stove. “The asparagus will take about five more minutes,” she said lightly. “During which time I could either sing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ or ‘Good Night, Irene,’ both of which I happen to know are your favorites.”
“Honey, I do love you, but I shouldn’t like to take the chance that your singing voice might curdle the champagne.”
She laughed and looked at him fondly. In his old tweed jacket and bow tie, Robert had made every effort to look dapper for her nameless celebration. His face was so wrinkled that she could hardly tell where the bones were anymore, and he seemed more frail to her each day, with a slight tinge of blue around his lips that worried her terribly. Still, his mind was so clear and his tongue so sharp, and she really did love him dearly…
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. “Damn!” Leigh wailed. “Everything’s just done, and it can’t wait or it’ll be spoiled!”
“I’ll get it, I’ll get it,” Robert soothed her. “It’s probably only that woman across the road still looking for her dog.”
It took a while for Robert to negotiate the steps to the front door. She really should have gone herself, Leigh thought. And she was definitely going to insist that he take it easier around the house.
She opened the pot of asparagus, and steam clouded around her in fragrant puffs, bringing an instant flush to her cheeks. She nearly dropped the lid when she saw Brian standing there, with Robert behind him wearing a thoroughly satisfied grin.
“Just in time,” the older man said happily.
“I didn’t realize I’d be interrupting your dinner,” Brian
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