Having Justin's Baby

Dear Paige,

By the time you get this I will be on my way to Las Vegas. I can’t marry you. I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you because I do, but I need some time to think over some things. I didn’t want to hurt you, but right now I feel that if we were to marry, it wouldn’t be fair to you.

I’m really sorry. Love, Michael.

P.S. You can keep the ring.

For a moment Paige was too stunned to even breathe. Then she gasped and leaned up against the wall of the lobby. Michael had jilted her? Why? The question banged around in her head like a bad headache. She reread the letter and saw nothing that she hadn’t seen the first time she’d read his note. He needed time to think…he was confused…so why did he have to go to Las Vegas?

“She went to Las Vegas.” Kathy’s words echoed in her head. “She’s not sick. She’s faking it.”

Paige had a flash of memory. She was sitting in the resort’s lounge a couple of weeks ago, having a soda with some of the other waitstaff. Chelsea Kinseth entered and announced to anyone who would listen that someday she was going to go to Las Vegas to take the biggest gamble of her life. Paige had thought she wanted to get a job as a showgirl, but now she wondered if that gamble was running off with Michael.

She shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. She gazed at the diamond on her finger. Surely Michael wouldn’t have given her such an expensive ring if he hadn’t planned to marry her. She quickly reread the note, but the message was the same.

“Paige, is everything all right?” Stacy asked.

With unsteady hands Paige folded the note from Michael and shoved it into her apron pocket next to her order pad. Tears misted in her eyes but she wasn’t about to let anyone see them. “You’ll have to excuse me,” she said and rushed out the front door of the lodge and into the parking lot, where she took long, deep breaths of fresh air, willing her body not to give in to the urge to cry.

This couldn’t be happening to her. Michael wouldn’t do this to her. She walked over to the employee section of the parking lot, hoping to see his red Mustang. It wasn’t there. She followed the paved walkway leading to the golf course, her stride brisk as she made her way to the clubhouse. If there was one person who would know what was going on, it was Gus Reynolds. He was the golf-course groundskeeper and Michael’s closest friend at the resort. She found him tending the garden outside the clubhouse, his portly figure bent over a bed of impatiens.

“Well, look who’s here,” he said, getting to his feet to greet her. “I thought you’d be in Vegas by now.”

Any hope Paige had that the letter was some cruel joke was gone. “Michael told you he was going to Vegas?”

“He didn’t exactly tell me. I saw his e-ticket. We both use the same computer.” He winked. “I figured something was going on. Every time I came in here he’d be on the Internet looking at Las Vegas sites. When I saw the list of wedding chapels I figured you two were running off to get married or something.”

“No.”

His voice softened. “I’m sorry. I just assumed.”

“Stacy said he called in sick.”

“Well, I guess that’s one way of getting time off without using vacation days, isn’t it?”

Paige didn’t respond. What could she say? There could only be one reason why Michael had been using Google to search for Las Vegas wedding chapels. He was going to marry Chelsea.

Pain shot through her, making her want to crumble right there in front of Gus. But she didn’t. She simply turned around and headed back up the paved walkway leading to the lodge.

Ever since she’d read Michael’s letter she’d been fighting the tears, but on her way back to the lodge she gave up the battle. She dropped onto a small concrete bench and wept.

She hated crying. It was for wusses and she was no wuss. She especially hated crying over a guy, but this was not just any guy. This was Michael. Her fiancé. She looked again at the ring on her finger. This morning she’d dangled it in front of the consignment-store clerk’s eyes as if it was her most prized possession. Now it hurt to look at it. She yanked it from her finger and almost threw it across the carefully manicured grass into one of the golf course’s water hazards. Almost. Paige could be just as emotional as any other woman, but she had an advantage. Her brain rarely allowed her emotions to govern her decisions.

She didn’t know what would become of the diamond, but she didn’t want its fate to be the same as that of a golf ball whose owner had botched a swing. Hoping that out of sight would mean out of mind, she slipped the ring into her pocket, wishing it was as easy to hide the ugly stuff that had happened to her today.

Only there was no way she was going to be able to keep what had happened a secret. She wondered how many of the resort’s employees already knew that Michael had dumped her. Suddenly the furtive glances exchanged between Kathy and Rosie made sense. Kathy’s husband worked at the golf course. The rumor mill had put two and two together.

It was such a humiliating thought Paige didn’t know how she was going to face anyone. Maybe she wouldn’t face them. Maybe she would just go get her purse, punch her time card, walk out and never return. Ever.

The thought was a tempting one. There were only a couple of weeks left of the summer season anyway. It would be so nice not to have to face a single person at the resort. She could just imagine the looks of pity.

But as badly as she wanted to run away from it all, she couldn’t. She had responsibilities—a job, a lease on a trailer, a lease on a house. And the Bulldogs would be coming for their reunion weekend.

Her hurt turned to anger. She was supposed to be introducing her fiancé to Ben and Amber this weekend, not making excuses as to why he wasn’t there. Only, she wouldn’t make excuses. She would get through the next three days one way or another.

She pulled out her cell phone, took several deep breaths and punched the number one on her speed dial—the house phone she had at one time shared with Justin and Kyle. It rang once then rolled over to voice mail.

After the beep she said, “Hey, it’s me. I need to talk to you. Bad.” Her voice was wobbly and she was worried that they’d be able to tell she’d been crying. She took another deep breath and said, “I’m having, like, the worst day of my life. Michael’s on his way to Vegas with his old girlfriend and I’m here at the Cascading Waters feeling like…well, you can imagine how I feel…and I really need to talk to you.” Losing the battle of fighting tears, she ended with, “I have to get back to work. Call me when you get this.”

Again she thought about getting in her car and never coming back. But she knew that sooner or later she would have to face everyone at the lodge, so she went back to work.

When she walked into the Birchwood Room, the first person she saw was Kathy. “You’ve been crying?” She flung an arm around her shoulder. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You know, don’t you?” Paige asked, even though she was almost certain of the answer.

The older woman nodded slowly. “I was hoping it was just a rumor. I’m sorry, Paige. It was a really low thing for the two of them to do. Why don’t you ask if you can take the rest of the afternoon off?”

Paige knew it would mean extra work for the remaining waitstaff. “No, it’s all right. It’s better if I keep busy. I’ll go wash up and be right out.”

“Sure. Go ahead. Take as much time as you need. Rosie and I can cover for you.”

“Thanks.” Paige visited the ladies’ restroom and washed her hands and face, determined that none of the other employees would see just how deeply hurt she was by Michael’s rejection. To her relief the lunch crowd was heavy and she didn’t have time to dwell on what they may or may not have heard. When her shift finally ended, Paige left with the knowledge that as difficult as it had been to stay at work, at least she’d had the satisfaction of knowing she’d fulfilled her obligation.

When she got back to the trailer she saw the box of decorations staring at her from the tiny tabletop, reminding her that she had another job to finish before she could do what she really wanted to do—go to bed and forget the day even happened. She needed to take the food and beverages over to the Pinecone Cabin and hang the decorations. And she would, but first she needed some time alone to let her jangled nerves rest.

At only five foot two she could easily curl up onto the small sofa that pulled out into a bed. She sighed and closed her eyes, trying not to think about Michael and Chelsea cuddling up to one another at a wedding chapel in Vegas.

“This should not be happening to me—it’s just not fair,” she said to herself as images of the two of them together tormented her until she fell asleep.

AS JUSTIN HEADED FOR HOME he knew exactly what he wanted. A cold beer and a shower and in that order. Then he was going to meet several of his friends at the Saints game, where he’d get a couple of hot dogs and have another cold beer. It was the perfect way to spend a hot summer evening and there was nothing like baseball to take his mind off a woman he shouldn’t be thinking about. Ever since she’d sent him the phone photo of her in her wedding dress, Paige had been on his mind.

It hadn’t been one of his better days. It had started with a flat tire on his pickup that had put him behind on his appointments for the rest of the day. As part of his job selling the nursery stock, he also had to respond to complaint calls. He usually had one or two follow-up calls a week to check on the condition of the plants and trees he’d sold clients. Today alone he’d had three callbacks, but it was the last one that had been the most difficult. It was to a golf course.

After listening to Paige carry on about her wedding dress this morning, it was the last place he wanted to be. He hated golf, and the fact that Michael Cross had Paige playing the game was like a burr in his sock. Paige was no more interested in golf than Justin was, yet she now spent more energy worrying about getting a tee time than she did getting tickets to a ball game.

And if it wasn’t enough that the trees he’d sold the golf course had died, while he was doing the inspection, one of the landscape employees had tripped getting out of the way of a golf cart and broken an ankle. Justin was the one who took him to the hospital emergency room where they had ended up spending most of the afternoon. He’d had to cancel the remainder of his appointments for the day, which was not the way he wanted to start his three-day weekend.

He took an unusually long shower, allowing the water to wash away the frustrations of the day. By the time he had toweled himself dry, he felt relaxed and ready to spend the night with the guys drinking beer and talking baseball.

As he was getting dressed, his cell phone beeped. It was Kyle sending him a text message telling him that he was having a DND night at Tammy’s. They had been roommates long enough for Justin to know that DND was code for Do Not Disturb. Justin messaged him back, telling him he was going to the Saints game and would see him in the morning.

Then he finished dressing, grabbed his Saints cap and was about to head out the back door when he noticed the blinking message light on the house phone. His finger automatically hit the play button.

As he suspected, the first two messages were from telemarketers trying to convince him he needed his carpets cleaned and new windows installed. He glanced impatiently at his watch, thinking that if he had to run through a string of such calls he’d miss the start of the game. He was about to press the stop button when he heard Paige’s voice.

“Hey, it’s me. I need to talk to you. Bad. I’m having, like, the worst day of my life. Michael’s on his way to Vegas with his old girlfriend and I’m here at the Cascading Waters feeling like…well, you can imagine how I feel…and I really need to talk to you.”

It was followed by a double beep indicating it was the last message recorded.

“That son of a bitch,” Justin muttered as he took the steps two at a time. When he reached his room he grabbed the duffel bag with his Bulldog sweatshirt already in it and began stuffing it with clothes. On his way back down the stairs he called his buddies and told them he wouldn’t be at the Saints game. As he was about to walk out the door he started to dial Kyle’s cell then stopped. Kyle was DND.

So instead of phoning Kyle he went to a drawer in the kitchen, pulled out a piece of paper and began to write.

Kyle, Call me when you read this. Paige needed help so I left a day early. J.C.

As he stuck the note to the refrigerator with a loon magnet, he thought it was probably a good thing that Kyle was with Tammy tonight. Because he was a little in love with Paige, Kyle might not be able to console her without letting those emotions get in the way.

Justin, on the other hand, was much better at hiding his feelings for Paige and wouldn’t forget that she wanted him to be her friend, not her boyfriend. As he climbed into the pickup he said to himself, “Just hang in there, Paige. Your best friend is coming to the rescue.”

CHAPTER THREE

PAIGE AWOKE with a start, hearing a pounding near her head. After only a couple of seconds, she realized that someone was banging on the metal door of her trailer. She sat up and a sharp pain shot through her neck. She’d been curled up like a pretzel on the narrow sofa and was now paying the price. She peeked through the louvered window and saw Stacy in the gold blazer that identified her as one of the managers at the lodge.

“Paige, are you in there?” she heard the woman call out.

Paige stumbled toward the door and unlocked it. “I’m here,” she said, rubbing her sore neck. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep after work.” She moved to one side and gestured for her to come in. “Why are you here?”

Stacy stepped into the small trailer. “You never came back for the key to the cabin.” She dangled a large diamond-shaped plastic key ring in midair.

“Oh. Thanks.” Paige took the key from her and stuck it in her jeans pocket. “Do you want something to drink? Some water or a soda?”

She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. What about you? How are you doing?”

Paige suspected from the look of sympathy on the blonde’s face that she’d heard the news about Michael and Chelsea. “I suppose you know what happened.”

“I’ve heard nasty rumors, but all I know for certain is that Michael quit his job.”

“He quit? I thought he’d called in sick.”

“Apparently he left a resignation letter in his desk drawer.”

Paige sank back down onto the small sofa. “I guess he and Chelsea plan to stay out there for good.” She was surprised that she could even say the words without crying. But it was as if she was talking about someone else’s life, not her own, and they came out on a note of indifference.

“I’m really sorry, Paige. For what it’s worth, that girl has no shame when it comes to men. It didn’t matter to her if he was engaged or not.”

“You don’t need to make excuses for him,” Paige told her. “Any way you look at it, it’s still the same outcome.” She swallowed back the lump in her throat. It would have been so easy to break down and cry, but she was determined not to do that. Especially not in front of Stacy, who always looked so composed. “I’d rather not talk about any of it if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Stacy assured her. “I didn’t come here to talk about Michael Cross. I just wanted to bring you the key and to let you know that if there’s anything I can do to make your Bulldog weekend easier, I’m here.” She spread her arms in a welcoming gesture. “You are still having your reunion, aren’t you?”

“I don’t see any way out of it now.” Paige tried to keep her voice even, but it wasn’t easy.

“Do you want a way out? At this time of year I’d have no trouble renting the cabin at the last minute. You’d lose your deposit, I’m afraid but…”

“No…no…I can’t cancel.” She scrubbed her hands across her face as if the motion would clear her head. “Everything’s such a mess.”

“Maybe I can help clean it up.”

“I’m not sure there is a way to clean up this one.”

Paige was grateful Stacy didn’t give her any of the words of encouragement women usually got after being dumped by their boyfriends. Stacy looked around, her gaze landing on the snacks and beverages lining the table and counter. “Is that stuff for your reunion?”

“I have a small box of decorations, too.” Paige nodded at a box on the counter beside the food supplies. “Michael was going to help me get the cabin ready tonight.”

Stacy placed a hand on the box. “I’ll take his place. I may not be as tall as he is, but I’m not afraid to climb a ladder.”

“Michael’s not afraid of heights,” Paige stated.

“Ever seen him on the chair lift at Lutsen?”

“No, but he doesn’t like to downhill ski. He does cross-country.”

“Has he hiked the Baptism River Trail with you?”

Of all the trails in the Superior National Forest, it had some of the steepest drops. She’d climbed it often with Justin and Kyle, but never with Michael. She tried to remember hiking to any of the breathtaking lookouts in the various parks along the shoreline, but most of their dates had been spent golfing. The one time they’d stopped at the Split Rock Lighthouse, he’d told her the reason he wasn’t going to climb the circular stairs to the top was he’d twisted his knee and wasn’t supposed to do stairs.

Stacy hoisted the box of decorations into her arms and said, “If you get the door for me, I’ll take this for you.” When Paige hesitated she added, “Look, there are some things you can control and others you can’t. You’ll feel better about the ones you can’t control if you take care of the ones you can.”

“I suppose everyone at the resort knows what’s happened by now.”

“Paige, you can’t worry about what people think. You did nothing wrong. Michael is the one who should be feeling ashamed, not you. Now, is there anything else you want to take over to the cabin besides what’s here?”

“The rest of the stuff is already in my trunk.”

“Why don’t we put everything in my Escape and you can ride with me,” she suggested. “There’s no reason for both of us to drive.”

A few minutes later Paige was in the front of Stacy’s SUV heading for the Cascading Waters Resort. The Pinecone was the largest of nine cabins that formed a horseshoe behind the main lodge at the resort. She took comfort in knowing that each cabin had a private parking area, which meant it was unlikely they’d run into any of the other employees.

Tires crunched on gravel as Stacy parked next to a towering white pine. Because of the wooded setting, the evening sun was but a flicker through the foliage.

Paige appreciated the fact that Stacy made no mention of Michael or the broken engagement as they hung the few decorations from previous years and stocked the refrigerator and cupboards with beverages and food. While they worked they talked mostly about the changes Stacy had seen throughout her lifetime as a resident on the North Shore. As they were hanging the last of the posters, Paige’s stomach growled.

“I bet you haven’t had any dinner, have you?” Stacy asked.

Paige shook her head. She hadn’t eaten lunch or dinner but she hadn’t exactly been hungry, either.

“We’ll go over to the Birchwood when we’re finished here,” Stacy offered. “My treat.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you, but it would probably just be a waste of money,” she said, shoving her tape dispenser and scissors back in her tote bag. “I don’t feel much like eating. You know what I mean?”

“Oh yes, I do,” she acknowledged with a nod. “I’ve had my heart broken. I know where you’re at tonight and it’s not a good place to be.”

“No, it isn’t, which is why I think I’ll just go home and go to bed.” Paige turned off the lights on their way out of the cabin.

“No, no, no.” Stacy wagged her finger. “You most certainly will not go home and have a pity party for one. I have a better idea.”

Stacy’s better idea was to stop and pick up a couple of sandwiches at a local deli on the way back to Paige’s trailer. When she pulled up to a liquor store, Paige said, “Unless you want something, you don’t have to stop for me. I get headaches from alcohol.”

“I’ll just be a minute,” was all Stacy said before disappearing inside. She returned carrying a couple of brown bags. As she set them on the bench seat between them, the contents rattled.

Seeing Paige’s wary glance, she said, “It’s mostly fruit juices. I’m going to make us some punch.”

“You don’t need to spend your night off babysitting me,” Paige said.

“Who said anything about babysitting? I know we haven’t had a lot of time to get to know one another, but you’re still a girlfriend and girlfriends don’t let other girlfriends have pity parties for one. So consider tonight an opportunity for me to show someone in the sisterhood how to look at the positive side of breaking up. And there is a positive side. You just can’t see it yet, but believe me, it’s there.”

Paige tried to smile, but she didn’t think that anything Stacy could say or do would dull the pain of losing Michael. All of her life she’d been a “glass is half-full” person, weathering breakups with guys better than most women she knew. But never had she expected that getting jilted could hurt so badly.

When they arrived back at the campground, Stacy insisted it was too nice out to eat indoors. She instructed Paige to build a campfire in the fire pit next to the trailer while she mixed the punch.

A short while later Paige found herself on an Adirondack chair in front of a crackling fire with a sandwich in one hand and a concoction Stacy called her “men are pigs” punch in the other. Paige wasn’t sure just what it was she was drinking. While she had been gathering wood, Stacy had been inside the trailer pouring a variety of liquids into her blender. The result had been a surprisingly delicious fruit drink that had Paige wondering if it contained much alcohol.

“You make a pretty good fire, Paige,” Stacy told her as a birch log popped and sizzled in the dancing flames. “One thing I’ve learned over the years is that there is nothing that a man can do for you that you can’t do for yourself.”

Paige really didn’t want to talk about the value of men and changed the subject. “Thank you for stopping and getting these sandwiches. I guess I was hungry after all.”

“They’re are not as good as Tony’s, but they’re not bad,” Stacy said.

Tony was the chef at the Birchwood and a good friend of Stacy’s. Paige felt a bit guilty that she’d refused Stacy’s offer to eat at the resort restaurant. “You understand why I didn’t want to go to the Birchwood, don’t you? I don’t think I could have taken one more person glancing at me with that pitiful look that says, ‘Oh, you’ve been dumped, you poor thing.’”

“If they’re looking at you with pity they’re making the assumption that you’ve lost something of value,” Stacy said in between bites of her sandwich. “You haven’t.”

“You’re right. He’s worthless. So is Chelsea.” Paige lifted her glass toward the starry sky. “To the worthless Michael Cross and his worthless bride, Chelsea.”

“Uh-uh, the toast should be to Michael and Chelsea for saving you from making the biggest mistake of your life.” Stacy raised her glass to Paige’s.

Paige took another sip and suddenly realized that there indeed was plenty of liquor in the fruit drink. She felt a warmth spread through her, tickling her insides.

“A friend of mine tried to warn me that Michael would be trouble,” she said, gazing up at the stars.

“All men are,” Stacy stated with authority.

“Tell me the truth. Was I the only one who didn’t know he was still seeing Chelsea?”

“I don’t think anyone knew for sure, but it was hard not to notice how she was always hanging around him. And they did have a history.” Stacy got up and reached for Paige’s empty glass. “You need a refill.”