Free You're My Baby by Laura Abbot

everything except the baby.
    When she finished, in a low voice he said, “Do you love him?”
    She had never lied to her father. Could she start now? “He’s a wonderful, caring man, Daddy. You’ll love him as much as I do.” That was close to the truth, wasn’t it?
    â€œWell, then.” He sighed heavily. “That’s all that matters. When do I get to meet my son-in-law?”
    â€œSoon. Let us get school underway and my move completed. Then we’ll all come visit you.”
    â€œHoney—”
    She sensed he was about to ask a question, perhaps the dreaded “Are you pregnant?” But he must’ve reconsidered, because all he added was “Be happy.”
    After she hung up, she sat for several minutes, absentmindedly stroking Viola and Sebastian. Eventually she’d have to tell Barbara. But not right now.
    Her father’s acceptance had reinforced her obligation to commit to this marriage, in appearance if not in fact.
    Â 
    S UNDAY EVENING Grant called Jim Campbell to ask if he and Pam could drop by on a matter of school business. The Campbells needed to be told first, not only because Jim, as headmaster, needed to know, but because Connie and Jim were their friends. But now, approaching their attractive ranch-style home near the campus, Grant had a walloping case of stage fright. This would be his and Pam’s first attempt to pull off their fabricated story. Could they possibly convince anyone they were in love?
    He glanced at Pam, who was giving undue attention to the passing scenery. His eye caught the gleam of herwedding band and, with his left thumb, he fingered his. “Nervous?” he asked.
    â€œTry terrified. Connie has a radar capability metropolitan police would envy.”
    â€œThings’ll go smoother after we get the telling over with.”
    â€œI hope so. Dad wasn’t easy, and when I called my sister, she wasn’t very understanding, much less congratulatory. She’ll freak out when she learns I’m pregnant.”
    â€œMy folks didn’t have much reaction when I told them, but after thirty years in the military, little fazes them. They couldn’t have come to a wedding on short notice anyway.” Time enough later to reveal “strained” accurately described his relationship with his hard-nosed father.
    â€œDo you have any brothers or sisters?”
    Her question stopped him short. How little they really knew about each other despite working together for several years. “I had an older brother.” He swallowed, the memory still painful. “He died of brain cancer when he was twenty-nine.”
    She laid a comforting hand on his thigh. “I’m so sorry. How devastating for you and your family.”
    â€œYeah, it was. Brian and I were eighteen months apart. We shared a room, played together on the high school team, fought over the same girls. I guess you could say he was my best friend.” He didn’t add that Brian had also served as a buffer between him and his father. From the time his dad had returned from Vietnam, he’d been difficult, distant. Brian had been the golden boy who could do no wrong. But Grant? In his father’s eyes, he’d never been anything but a disappointment. And the hell of it was, he’d never understood why.
    â€œYour family’s had a lot to deal with in recent years.”
    He smiled ruefully. “So maybe a baby’ll help, huh?”
    She looked thoughtful. “Maybe,” she said quietly, removing her hand from his leg.
    Why had he gone and said a fool thing like that? As if he had any claim to the baby beyond next September. He couldn’t start thinking of the child as his in any way except name.
    â€œHere we are,” he said, pulling to a stop in front of the rambling brick home. On the porch was a white deacon’s bench illuminated by an antique lamppost. He turned off the ignition and sought her eyes,