Chapter 14 Isadore #2
She nudged her chin up. Just because he cowered when his father was near didn’t mean that she must. “I’m not afraid of the professor.”
“You should be.”
He glanced in the mirror and then directed the car into the street. An eviction might be humiliating to Professor Farrow, but if he truly was dangerous, like Simon said, he couldn’t live with them.
Simon reached for her hand and wrapped it in his. As he lifted it to his lips, she relaxed against the leather seat. This was the man she knew so well. The man she loved. While he might want to overlook or excuse the professor’s ranting, it did him no good. She would have to protect him from it.
“What’s so pressing, my love, that you must break into my home?”
“I didn’t break in.” She patted her skirt pocket and realized she’d forgotten to return the key. “The back door was unlocked.”
“And you didn’t think to ring the bell?”
“Of course I rang it, but with your father yelling, no one heard.”
He sighed. “I fear for him. Each day, his mind is getting worse. He’s starting to confuse me with my older brother.”
Rain splashed on the windshield as they turned toward campus, the streetlamps a murky glow.
Simon didn’t speak of Clarence often. The man had caused a lot of trouble for the family, and while Simon never said it, the strain probably overcame Mrs. Farrow.
It must be difficult for Professor Farrow, too, but he had no excuse punishing Simon for his brother’s actions.
He should be reprimanding Clarence instead.
“We could find another place for your father to live.”
He glanced at her. “We?”
The smile returned to her face. “I do have news for you.”
“I hope it’s good.”
“The best.” She squeezed his hand between both of hers. “Dr. Gauldin says we’re going to have a baby.”
A second and then two, an eternity to register her words.
She’d known it would take him time, just like it had taken her, to comprehend the shift in their relationship.
Their future. It had all played out perfectly in her head—his parking the car, pulling her close, crooning about how he would take care of her and their baby—but not this.
He jerked the wheel so fast that it hit the curb.
A crunch of metal and her head flung back against the seat.
“Simon—”
“You don’t know that I’m the father.”
She opened her mouth. Closed it. Tears pooled in her eyes and began to fall. How could he even suggest that? No one else could possibly be the father.
Her nausea vanished in that moment, replaced by an empty dread. After she’d dedicated all these months to seeing Simon alone. After they’d talked of marriage. Dreamed of their future. “There’s no one else.”
He didn’t attempt to back his car away from the curb. Instead he dropped her hand to drum on the steering wheel, his gaze on a house tucked between trees. “And this is the best of news for you?”
“We’d already planned to marry.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “We will just have to do it before graduation.”
“But your diploma—”
“I won’t need a diploma once we wed.”
“Your parents will be furious with me.”
“They’ll be much angrier if you neglect your child.”
He seemed to consider her words, a minute and then two. “And now we must marry soon.”
“Of course.” There was no other way. They were respectable adults, albeit he more than a decade older.
Still, they loved each other and wanted a future together.
Other women, those who hadn’t a commitment for marriage, bore babies out of wedlock.
She’d heard the whispers when a female student didn’t return to campus or when one of the girls abruptly dropped out of Izzy’s high school.
But she and Simon had already agreed on their future.
“Your father will still have my head,” Simon said.
“He doesn’t need to know.”
“But a wedding—”
“We’ll proceed with a ceremony on our own. Then we can visit them.”
Not a moment before as she might have elevated her family’s status slightly when she first met Simon, wanting to impress him when she’d implied that her father owned the Elms paper mill instead of working there as a foreman.
Her little stretch of truth would unravel itself in the end. They were long past the need to impress, but even though he knew her better now than anyone else, it would be best to wait for those introductions.
He drummed the wheel again. “You want to elope?”
“I think it best.”
“For crying out loud, Izzy.” He flung open his door. “We’ll have to sort this out in the morning.”
While he attended to the front tire, she ran the two blocks to her dorm in the rain, wind twisting her skirt as she tugged open the door, no hope of sneaking inside.
When the housemother threatened to expel her, Izzy explained that Professor Farrow’s son had proposed, so she was leaving Winfield anyway.
The housemother accused her of lying, but Izzy didn’t care. Already, her status had elevated in the woman’s eyes.
It wouldn’t be long before Simon would buy an official ring and place it on her finger.
Then everyone would know she was Mrs. Farrow.