Read Online Threads by Patsy Brookshire - Free Book Online

absolutely certain.
    "Okay. It's settled. Amy gets back the last week in September. We'll know for certain
whether you're going to be a mother by then."
    "David." It was time for some serious talking, of the way the world really is, not the way
David wanted it to be. "This just won't work."
    "Sure--"
    "No, wait. You've got some starry-eyed notion that Amy is just going to be delighted to
welcome me into her home. She's not. I'll bet everything I have on it, which isn't much. She may
be all you say. If she has allowed you to go with me...knowing all about me...then she is, well,
unusual. I certainly wouldn't have left you alone here with me."
    For the first time he was concerned, "You're not a jealous woman, are you, Soph?"
    That made me laugh, though it came out bitter. He was worried that I was a jealous
woman. "Frankly, I've never had the chance to find out. I've never been in love, until you."
    "How do you feel about Amy?"
    Finally, I'd gotten to him. "I don't think about her. She's been gone all summer. It's like
she doesn't exist. I never thought about living with her. I can't believe even now that you would
ever consider it. Why, she'd have to be a saint to do that." Or nuts, I thought.
    "The Mormons do it."
    "What?"
    "You know they do, and they get along all right. They don't think it's crazy."
    "Maybe they don't but everybody else does." I was suddenly suspicious. "You're not a
Mormon, are you?" That would explain his crazy ideas.
    "No, I'm not. But we grew up in Utah, so I've heard stories."
    Then I remembered what he'd told me about his growing up, and I was relieved, let me
tell you. An odd religion thrown in would have baked the cake.
    "This whole thing is too much for me. I'm getting a headache. Whatever happens I'm not
moving into your house. It's just not right."
    "I wouldn't force you to do something you think is wrong, but please, Sophie, at least
think about it."
    I promised to do that but I had no intention of giving in. I didn't want to meet Amy, nor
even see her, let alone share her husband in the same house with her.
    We parted without even a kiss. He tried but I wasn't feeling too well. I just wanted to go
home, and lie down. He teased me then about being "...just like a wife with headaches and no
lovin'."
    I didn't see anything to laugh about. I waved him away and trudged off through the sand.
As I walked up the path to the cabin, I thought how easy it would be to slip and fall, and lose the
baby. Something else within me made me walk even more carefully, lest I fall and hurt the baby.
I knew it was crazy thinking but if I was carrying a child, it was David's as well as mine, and he
wouldn't want to lose another one.
    When I got home I laid down for a while until I felt better. Then I started thinking about
Willie and Zack. The road job would close down at the end of September, about the same time
Amy would be back. I still had no notion of living with them, but I wanted to be close to David
for as long as I could, no matter whether I was pregnant or not. Willie would be going home to
Nettie--no problem there--but Zack was going to another construction job, in California, and was
expecting me to go with him. I had to think of a believable reason for staying here in the
cabin.
    Telling him I was "in trouble" was out of the question, but what if I told him that Amy
was pregnant and that David had asked me if I could stay and help? No, not just help. If Zack
thought I could earn more money by staying rather than going with him... He wouldn't like it, but
he understood money.
    She'd been gone since late June. She couldn't be less than three months along. But did
Zack know that most problems happen in the first three months? I was sure he didn't. Even so,
there were other complications I could dream up.
    After I got it satisfied in my mind that I could handle the boys, I put my thoughts to
David. I had best get to know him even better. What did I really know about this man who might
be the father of my