Page 92 of The Lookback

“Well, I’m happy that you’re happy,” Tommy says.

But clearly he’s over the moon. He’s beaming wider than he was when he told me he’d liked me way back when. If I said I wasn’t happy to see Emery’s excitement, I’d be lying too. It’s always been contagious and this is no exception. We do manage to drop her off, but only after a few more minutes of excited gushing and well wishes.

By the time we leave, I’ve made a decision.

Tommy’s a good person. If I tell him the truth and he decides he can’t forgive me, he might stick around, at least through the end of this play. And that would give me some time to convince him that I made a mistake, but that he should give me another chance.

On the drive back to my house, I make benign chitchat as best I can, but really, I’m planning how to come clean. I need to tell him the truth, and I’m going to do it.

Tonight.

“I have some steaks in the freezer,” I say. “With as windy as it’s gotten, we should check whether there’s a storm front coming in. If there is, we should stay in tonight. I could cook a few potatoes and steam some broccoli. . .”

“Are you asking to make me dinner?” He squeezes my hand.

“I suppose I am.” I turn down the drive, and again, there’s a car in the drive.

“Your house is very popular,” he says. “I can’t believe you thought you could move to Montana.”

He’s right. It was a ridiculous idea. But this time, the person who owns the car pops right out. Helen doesn’t let other people drive her overpriced toys. She’s waving as I park.

“Hey, there,” she says. “You’re still around, I see.”

Tommy climbs out and leans against the door. “I’m hoping to stick around for quite some time.”

“A smart man,” Helen says. “Very smart.”

“We were about to go in for dinner. Are you here to stay, or are you moving out?” I’m not sure which I prefer. If she’s around, I could put off telling him for another night. I’d have a buffer to help me manage it.

But on the other hand, she could slip and say something. Even though I’m planning to come clean, I’d rather do it on my terms than have it sprung on him.

“I have dinner plans,” she says. “But I’ll come in for a bit. I have a question to ask you.” She shivers.

The poor woman insists on wearing clothing that looks like a work of art, but it’s not ever very sensible. You’d think someone who lived in New York for so long would be able to dress properly for cold weather.

Helen also looks nervous as we go inside, which I can spot easily, because there’s no one on earth more nervous than I am right now. We’ve barely stepped through the door when she blurts out, “You already know my secret.”

She’s never been someone to beat around the bush. “Yes, I do.” I fold my arms and sit on the sofa. Tommy takes the seat next to me. “What did you decide to do about it?”

“I don’t owe anyone an explanation.” She huffs.

My heart sinks. “Helen, I know you have spent your life?—”

“You don’t know,” she says. “No one does. So just let me talk.”

I sit back, placing my hand on Tommy’s forearm. He’s shifted forward, dropping his elbows on his knees, like he’d like to lay Helen across his lap and spank her. I understand the sentiment, but I’m not sure he could even manage it. Besides, I know her well enough to know that even if he did, it wouldn’t help.

“Go ahead, then.” I arch an eyebrow, preparing myself for the worst.

She drops into the chair across from me with a sigh like she’s tired. Bone weary, really. “I’m keeping the baby.”

You could knock me over with a feather—no, with a piece of lint.

“You are?” Relief floods every part of my body. I had been debating in the back of my mind whether I needed to rouse the troops and call Abby. I’m glad that wasn’t necessary.

“It wasn’t part of the plan, but Abby has had a lot of detours, and she seems happy about hers.”

“If you’re saying that gorgeous man, David, is a detour, then sign me up.” I can’t help my smile.

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