Chapter 22

Stephanie

My hands are sweating from nervousness, but I know I can’t avoid this anymore. If I want to put my nonprofit idea into action, I need Jules’s help, as she’s my contact for a trial run at Sweetbrier. I’ve obviously been staying clear of anyone these last two weeks who could be remotely tied to Lucas, and Jules, as his future sister-in-law, is about as close as you can get to the man.

But she’s actually been the one encouraging me to meet, telling me she’s as excited about this idea as I am. It got put on hold for a while because, well, I was dealing with this big nasty breakup.

For all my talk about keeping this casual and not entering into a relationship, there is no doubt in my mind that I was heavily involved in a deep and meaningful relationship with Luc, because otherwise, it wouldn’t be hurting this fucking much not having him.

For all of my grandiose ideas of pushing him away so I couldn’t get hurt, I ended up getting fucking crushed by the pain of losing him.

Lucas put everything out on the table. He put his heart at risk without even blinking those gorgeous eyes. He dangled love and marriage in front of me like a worm on a hook, and I was too goddamned scared to take the bait.

Within twenty-four hours of Luc leaving my apartment after telling me I was essentially going to fuck our child up, I got a voice mail from Jules. It was short and kind and she offered to talk when and if I was ever ready. I ignored it for a few days before I reached out to her, letting her know I appreciated her concern but I was fine.

She didn’t buy it. She prodded me gently through text exchanges, but mostly she was inquisitive about how I’d been doing with the pregnancy, and I didn’t hold back on that. I assumed she’d pass the info on to Lucas for me.

He has the right to know, even if he’s not bothered to reach out to me once in the past two weeks to see how I’m doing. He went from caring and vigilant to frustrated to infuriated to nothing.

Absolutely nothing at all.

I have to shake my head clear of those thoughts because they’ll drag me down into misery, and I’ll be damned if I want to suffer another crying spell filled with regret.

Opening the door to the restaurant, I immediately spot Jules waiting for me near the hostess podium. She quickly rakes her eyes over me as if she’s trying to determine how I’m feeling. She beams a smile at me as she walks my way, opening her arms for a hug.

This has always been awkward to me, but for some reason, I easily accept her embrace. Maybe some of the ways I’d opened up over the last few months have stuck. Or maybe it’s just that I want to be close to Lucas and the only way is through Jules.

Regardless, when she pulls back she holds my shoulders and looks down at my belly briefly before looking back up again. “You have a baby bump.”

That breaks the ice right there and I laugh as I look down, running a hand over the slight swelling that’s easily discernable under the tight tank top I’d worn with a pair of stretchy jeans. “It’s about right on time, although truth be told, not sure if that’s the baby or the Cherry Garcia ice cream causing that.”

Jules laughs. “Who cares? It’s adorable.”

Lucas would think so. He’d been waiting for that to happen. I push down the longing that creeps up and make my smile brighter.

The hostess approaches us with menus and we break apart to follow her to our table. After we sit down and study our menus, we talk about Jules’s kids and how I’ve been feeling until the waitress takes our orders.

“So when is your next appointment?” Jules asks after sipping her iced water.

“Next Friday. I’ll be at thirteen weeks.”

“Well, you look amazing. You’re glowing, actually,” she says with a wave of her hand in my direction. “I’ve heard pregnancy could do that to you.”

“I actually feel pretty good,” I admit to her.

“I kind of thought I’d be getting a beat-down, haggard-looking Stephanie who was completely depressed or something,” she says, and my jaw drops wide open.

She did not just go there.

But she watches me with the eyes of a hawk to gauge my reaction.

I merely stiffen my backbone and say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m doing wonderful.”

“Huh,” Jules grunts. “It’s just…Lucas isn’t—”

“Don’t want to talk about him,” I say quickly as I hold my hand up. “You said you wanted to talk about Intergen so that’s why I’m here.”

This throws Jules off. “Intergen?”

“Yeah. Short for intergenerational activities. Cool, right?”

“It’s horrid,” Jules says with a wrinkled nose. “Sounds like a pharmaceutical company or something. Or, wasn’t that the name of the company that manufactured the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park?”

My brows pinch together. “Well, what should I call it?”

“Something fun and cute,” she says with a shrug. “Maybe something like Tots to Pops or something.”

“Seriously?” I ask with my own nose wrinkling. “That sounds like a convenience store name. Short for tater tots to soda pops.”

Jules snickers and I can’t help it…I do too.

“Listen,” Jules says soberly as she reaches across the table to take my hand. “I didn’t mean to hit you with your break-up with Lucas. I just want you to know that I can be objective and listen to your side of things. Lord knows I’ve heard his side.”

“He told you what happened?” I ask, aghast.

Jules shakes her head. “He gave Max a brief overview, who then told me. No details, just that things were over between you two. But I’m here if you want to talk. If you don’t, let’s just talk about getting the kids and the old folks together, okay?”

I hesitate before I answer. I’ve been dying of curiosity to know how Lucas has been doing. Just because I totally freaked out on him and we’re no longer together doesn’t mean I don’t still care for him. Hell, half the reason I pushed him away was trying to avoid hurting him even worse down the road. Granted, the other half was to avoid me getting hurt when he ultimately figured out that I wasn’t that much of a prize, but the point being, I just didn’t want anyone to hurt.

I know the Cold Fury has been doing well in the play-offs. I’ve watched every game, glued to the screen and searching out Lucas. They just won the series against the Pittsburgh Titans and that went six games. The conference finals start next week and it seems like another Stanley Cup is within reach.

Jules looks across the table at me with a reassuring smile. I know if I share, she’ll tell me about Lucas.

But do I really want to know more than Luc’s hockey stats?

What if he’s moved on and already screwing other women? Let’s face it, that was how both of us operated when we were single.

The thought of that makes my stomach pitch and I decide it’s best if I just stay in the dark.

With a slight shake of my head, I mutter, “I’m fine, really. Let’s just talk about how to move this idea forward.”

Jules looks slightly disappointed but she gives me a perky, “Sure. That will keep us plenty busy.”

“Okay. So the original way this started was there are actual day cares that are located within nursing homes. Obviously, there are activities between the two. For the kids this helps to reduce anxiety as well as improve self-esteem and social development. They’ve found that for the elderly, playing with the kids obviously cuts down on the loneliness, but also can slow physical and mental decline.”

Jules nods as she fiddles with her napkin. It feels good to get my mind off of the painful memories of Lucas and how much I miss him, so I forge ahead.

“But you know I don’t want to open up a day care. I don’t really have any desire to run one,” I reiterate as I pull a yellow pad out of my purse. I lay it on the table and snag a pen. “I thought instead I’d start a company that facilitates field trips from day care centers to nursing homes. I can do outreach and collect all of the places that are willing to participate, start a database, and then handle scheduling events. That would include transportation along with trained staff to help the interaction between the kids and the elderly, as well as providing the actual materials for activities they can do together. Games and arts and crafts and stuff like that.”

Jules eyes sparkle with excitement. “I think it’s brilliant, and I think you’re right. You’d be hamstrung by opening an actual day care because it’s too much work and you wouldn’t be able to expand outward. You do realize you could take this far past a local level. If you’re really a facilitator, you could do this across the state. Hell, even nationwide.”

“Or franchise it,” I tell her with a smug smile. I’ve been thinking big on this.

“This could really be a money maker,” she gushes.

I shake my head. “Nonprofit. All the way. But I’m sure we could get some funding or grants.”

“Would you be the director or something?” Jules asks.

I shrug slightly. “Maybe. I guess it depends on what that would entail. I think I’d much rather do the hands-on activities and go into the nursing homes with the kids.”

Jules is silent a moment as she watches me, but finally she says, “You’re really a pretty incredible person.”

My head jerks back in surprise. “What? Why would you even say that?”

Jules rolls her eyes at me. “Has no one ever told you that?”

Pain lacerates through me. Lucas had told me that, and more than once. But instead of responding, I shake my head and redirect. “It’s a solid idea, and I’ve got some money that I can use to get it going. But I would like to start very small and work out all of the kinks first.”

“Well, Annabelle’s day care is on board, as is Sweetbrier. All we have to do is pick a date and figure out what we’ll have them do together.”

“I’ve been doing some research on that,” I tell her as I flip my pad around so she can read it. “I’ve actually called several of these day cares and gotten a lot of information.”

“Wow,” Jules mutters, but before she can start reading, the waitress returns with our meals. Jules ordered a Cobb salad and I ordered grilled chicken and some veggies. As much as I was offended by Lucas giving me a planner to monitor my health and nutrition, I’m not stupid and I do take good care of myself. I’ve even cut down the Cherry Garcia to once a week.

We start our meals and Jules peruses my notes for a bit.

“Are you sure you really want to help out on this?” I ask her dubiously. “I know you’re still working part time at Sweetbrier, and painting and raising three kids, so—”

“Oh, I want to help,” Jules says quickly. “I’m only working about ten hours a week at Sweetbrier and the painting is just a hobby that earns me some extra money. Annabelle’s starting kindergarten in the fall, and I really want to stay busy, and frankly, this just really sounds like a lot of fun to do.

“Okay then,” I say with a smile, then spear a piece of chicken.

“If I help, though,” Jules says, and an ominous feeling slides over me from her tone of voice. “You have to know that you may run into Lucas at some point.”

I lift an eyebrow and tilt my head at her in question.

“I’m just saying, Max will want to come and help, as it’s a brilliant idea, and that means Lucas might want to. I don’t know that for sure, but I guess I need to know if that will be a problem.”

The thought of seeing Lucas sends a thrill through me, so I know I’m nowhere near over that man no matter how much I want to deny it. Still, my voice is level and nonchalant. “Of course, I don’t mind. I’m not mad at him, and I’d like to think he’s cool with me. Besides, we are still going through this pregnancy together.”

Jules doesn’t say anything but just looks down to her salad to fork some lettuce.

“He is going to stay involved in the pregnancy, right?” I ask, and the thought that he won’t sends me into a moment of panic.

Jules’s head snaps up and her eyes soften with apology. “Yes. Of course. I mean I think so. He hasn’t given me any reason to think not.”

“But you think there’s a possibility he won’t?” I push at her.

“He’s not coming to your next visit,” Jules admits with worried eyes. “But in fairness, he will be traveling, as that falls right between games three and four, which will be away.”

I nod, because I knew this. Lucas may have been radio silent with me, but I did know his travel schedule and was dismayed that my fourteen-week visit would occur while he was gone.

“Has he said anything, though,” I continue to pry. “Anything to indicate I’m on my own here?”

“Isn’t that the way you want it?” Jules asks bluntly, but not meanly. Her voice is soft and gentle.

I can’t answer her without lying. It’s not the way I want it, but I’ve got no right to say that. I’ve got no standing to even voice my desires. I pushed Lucas away and it hurt him badly. He lashed out me with vicious words of his own, and I’m still hurt about that.

Maybe it’s just best if we have as little contact as possible. In fact, I’m betting he doesn’t even want to come to the appointments anymore because I think that had more to do with his feelings for me than anything.

I take a sip of my water, and when I set the glass down, I tell Jules, “I don’t think what I want matters.”

“Of course it matters,” Jules says quickly.

I shake my head. “No. Things ended badly, but even if they hadn’t, the point is, it ended. Both of us drew some lines in the sand. Some pretty harsh words were spoken.”

“What did Lucas say to you?” Jules asks with eyes blazing.

I shake my head again.

“What did he say?” she grits out.

An overwhelming despondency takes root within me, knowing that the terrible things that Lucas said are probably true. But maybe they’re not, and I think it would be nice to have one person believe in me. So I take the risk and open myself up. It’s what Lucas has been after to me to do anyway, right?

“He told me I was weak,” I whisper as my eyes lower to the table. “Said he felt sorry for our kid and that I was going to fuck up its life the way my parents did to me.”

Jules gasps and her face mottles red. “That little fucker.”

Holding my hand up, I admit glumly, “He’s probably right.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Steph,” Jules barks at me. “He’s totally wrong and he’s an asshole to have said that to you.”

My head shakes in denial, which I’m apparently very good at. “You don’t know me, Jules. He does. He knows what my life was like growing up and how…how defective I am. I’ll probably screw this kid up the way I was screwed up.”

“Bullshit,” she hisses at me, and then leans across the table. “You got pregnant by mistake. The easiest course for you to have taken was to have an abortion. Instead you tracked down Lucas and told him the truth, and you committed to having this kid and raising it on your own if that’s what it took. Am I right?”

Reluctantly, I nod.

“That’s because you love that baby inside of you,” she presses in a softer voice. “In fact, I’m betting you fell in love with it when you saw the pregnancy test was positive.”

That’s so very true.

“Tell me something, Stephanie,” Jules asks gently. “Putting Lucas aside, what are the things you think about when you think about raising your child?”

There’s only one answer to that question, as I’ve thought about this a lot. “I’m going to do the exact opposite of everything my parents did.”

Jules’s lips curve upward and she nods at me in satisfaction. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

I smile back at her, extremely grateful for her boosting me up. At least I have one person who thinks I can do this, and that makes all the difference in the world to me.