Chapter 52
Summer sat on the edge of the bathtub, trying to work up the courage to walk over to the sink. The three-minute timer had been beeping at her for at least a minute, but her feet seemed to be welded to the floor. She glanced toward the door, needlessly closed, since Max was at school and Benjamin had left yesterday for Atlanta. He hadn’t wanted to go, but Summer had insisted, both because she didn’t want to keep him from a chance to see his friend and because she knew she needed to take this test.
She’d tried to dismiss Mama’s offhand question about whether she was pregnant. But from the moment they’d gotten the results of her genetic test back last week, fear had gnawed at her from the inside out. And then she’d missed her period.
It’s only three days late, she reminded herself.
Except she’d never been three days late before.
With a rough breath, she forced herself off the tub. She reached first for her phone, careful to keep her eyes on the screen as she turned off the timer, so she wouldn’t catch a glimpse of the results.
But then she set the phone down, and she couldn’t avoid it any longer.
With a quick resolve, she snatched the test off the counter and held it up in front of her.
She’d already memorized the directions, so she knew exactly what the two lines meant.
The hand holding the test began to shake, and she pressed her other hand to her mouth. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she couldn’t tell whether they were happy tears or devastated tears.
This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Not yet. Not until Benjamin was tested. What if he had the gene variant too, and they passed the awful disease that had killed TJ on to their child?
And yet . . .
What if he didn’t have the variant and this baby was perfect? Part him and part her.
Summer moved her hand to her stomach, trying to take in the fact that there was a new life growing inside of her.
She bit her lip, considering what to do next. She had to leave to pick up Max from school in a few minutes. But should she text Benjamin or call him or wait until he got home tonight? Or maybe longer?
She tried to picture how he would react. He was great with kids, and he loved Max, she knew that. But they hadn’t even talked about having children of their own. Maybe he—
Her phone burst into song, and Summer jumped. She didn’t recognize the number on the screen, but she answered anyway, in case it was someone calling to schedule a princess party—in which case, she’d have to hope they wouldn’t mind a pregnant princess. The thought made her half giggle her “Hello?”
“Hello,” a deep male voice replied. “Is this Summer Calvano?”
Summer’s smile immediately died at the man’s serious, official-sounding tone. Fear clawed at her heart. Had something happened to Benjamin?
“Yes,” she scratched out.
“The Summer who is married to Benjamin?” The man sounded a little less serious this time, but Summer barely managed another, “Yes.”
“Oh good. I hope you don’t mind me calling. I got your number from Benjamin.”
“I— Um— Who is this?” Summer stammered.
A chuckle reverberated through the phone. “Sorry. I’m Ian. I just dropped your husband off at the airport.”
“Is everything okay? Is he all right?” Summer asked quickly.
“Yes and no,” Ian answered, his voice growing serious again.
Summer clutched at the bathroom countertop. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” Ian said, “that Benjamin is physically fine. Like I said, I just dropped him off at the airport. But I’m afraid he’s making a big mistake, throwing away the biggest opportunity of his life.”
“Opportunity?” Summer eased her grip on the counter, her legs weak with relief. She let herself sink to the floor.
“At Kalibre,” Ian said, as if that should mean something to Summer.
“I don’t know what that is,” she said.
“Kendra Hill’s restaurant.”
Summer still had no idea what he was talking about.
“I’m sure you don’t realize what a big deal this is, or you would have said yes already, but we’re talking next-level career stuff here,” Ian went on. “People are going to flock to this restaurant. And I don’t mean like ordinary people. I mean like celebrities, athletes, everyone who’s someone. And they’re going to be eating his food and begging him to cook for their events. I mean, this is unheard of for a chef his age. I wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up with a Food Network deal someday. He has exactly the right personality for it. I know it would be hard on you to move to Atlanta, but—”
“Move to—” Summer pressed the phone to her ear. “Are you saying Benjamin was in Atlanta for a job interview?”
“No.” Ian laughed.
Summer let out a breath, but Ian continued. “I’m saying the job is his if he wants it. Or, well, if you want him to have it. I know it’s what he wants. More than anything in the world.”
What he wants more than anything in the world. The words rang in Summer’s head. That was what he’d said about her.
But it made more sense that this was what he wanted. It was the dream he’d been working toward until she’d derailed his plans by marrying him. And he wouldn’t have gone to Atlanta if he didn’t want it.
“Did he even tell you about any of this?” Ian’s question cut through Summer’s circling thoughts.
“No,” she whispered.
Ian’s laugh was hard and unamused. “I should have known. He’s too . . . too . . .”
“Noble,” Summer filled in.
She heard the sound of fingers snapping through the phone. “Yes, that’s it,” Ian said. “He always has to be the one to make the sacrifices. But if he doesn’t do this . . .” Ian paused. “He’s going to regret it for the rest of his life.”
Regret. The word set Summer’s stomach rolling again. It sounded an awful lot like resent.
“I know you don’t want that for him.” Ian’s voice became quiet, coaxing.
Summer shook her head. Never that.
“You should tell Kendra that Benjamin will do it,” she said past the acid burn at the back of her throat.
There was silence on the other end and then, “Are you for real?”
Before Summer could answer, Ian broke in again, “No, don’t tell me. I don’t care if you’re for real or not. I’m telling Kendra that it’s a done deal.”
Summer lowered the phone from her ear, staring at the blank screen.
Then she forced herself to her feet and picked up the pregnancy test. She buried it under a pile of tissues in the garbage, then tied up the bag. She’d toss it in the trash can waiting at the curb to be picked up on her way to get Max. And then she’d come home and start packing.