Page 110 of All In
“I don’t know,” I said. “Slowly. Over fifteen hundred miles and a thousand phone calls. Neither expected it. Neither pursued it. I had so many dark days when I thought I’d never love again. But Jonah told me I would. And I have. I just never thought it would be Teddy.” I smiled. “Only now, I think it couldn’t have been anyone but him.”
I pushed off the couch, and knelt in front of her, took her shaking hands in mine.
“I’m the luckiest woman in the world to have known the love of two extraordinary men. And I hope Theo’s happiness can bring you the same joy as Jonah’s did. He’s your son too. And I love him. It’s different, but then again, I’m different for knowing Jonah. He showed me what it meant to love someone with your entire being.”
Beverly raised her head. “And you love Theo.”
“I do,” I said. “I’m completely and utterly in love with Theo. He loves me. And…” I swallowed hard. “We’re going to have a baby.”
She sat back in the chair, staring.
“We didn’t plan for that either, but it happened. We’re both so happy about it and I hope…” Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over. “I hope you can be too.”
Beverly stared a moment more, then clapped her hands to her chest, and began to laugh. Big shaking laughs with tears streaming down her cheeks. She wagged her finger at me, then leaned forward and cupped my face in her hand.
“Oh, sweetheart. Sweet girl, yes, of course I’m happy. It’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.”
She gathered me to her and held me tight, crying softly. Stroking my hair in a motherly caress I hadn’t felt in years.
A small hope caught flame and flickered in my heart.
My mom might think so too.
CHAPTER
FORTY-TWO
Dena texted me:I haven’t had a pastrami on rye from Sully’s in ages. Meet me there at noon?
I nudged Kacey who was still bundled up in my bed, sleeping.
“Dena wants to meet a Sully’s for lunch.”
“Sully’s?”
“It’s a pool hall we used to hang out at in college. They have killer sandwiches. Their pastrami on rye—”
“Stop. I can’t even,” Kacey said. “I’m so tired for no reason and if you say ‘pastrami’ one more time I’m going to hurl. But you go. Enjoy.”
I noticed a little smile over lips as I bent to kiss her goodbye.
It was a sleepy Sunday afternoon, and the pool hall was almost empty. A jukebox played Johnny Cash while half a dozen patrons nursed beers at the bar or shot pool. I found an empty table and took a few shots while waiting for Dena.
I lined up a shot, hunched over, moving the stick between my fingers when someone took hold of it behind me.
“The hell…?”
I turned around.
“I got a text from Dena,” Oscar said, eyeing me darkly. “Said she was craving a pastrami sandwich?”
“I got the same text,” I said. “Your wife’s a mastermind.”
Oscar made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “You rack, I’ll break?”
“Sure.”
We played a game of eight-ball, not saying a word but to call our shots, settling in to being around each other again after weeks of silence.
