Daddy Wanted
She pushed away from the wall and slowly walked toward her room at the end of the hall. The only thing she knew for sure was that she wouldn’t figure it all out in one night.
* * *
THE NIGHT WAS perfectly silent, so quiet Ryan could almost hear the stars twinkling in the dark sky. He stretched out on a chaise longue at the far end of the pool and stared down into the illuminated water. The reflection cast wavering shadows all around him, lulling him into a contemplative mood.
His thoughts turned to Jennifer and he glanced out across the wide lawn to the house and tried to imagine her lying in bed, her hair tumbled across her pillow in silken waves, her lips parted slightly as she slept, her body warm and inviting.
As he’d tossed and turned in his own bed, he fought the urge to slip into her room. To wake her and spend just a few more hours in her company, holding her, talking in quiet words. He’d grown to love the sound of her voice, the lilting trace of Mexico that made every sentence like a tiny phrase of music. And her eyes, glittering with mischief or filled with emotion, so dark and deep he could disappear inside them…
Ryan closed his eyes, drawing deeply of the cool air. The sounds of the night surrounded him, and when he opened his eyes again, his gaze came to rest on a vision…a dream that had suddenly become real.
She walked down the steps of the terrace, barefoot, her hair blown by the soft breeze, her nightgown made translucent by the light behind her. He watched her limbs move gracefully beneath the thin fabric as she strolled toward him. When she reached the pool, the light from the water illuminated her face. At that moment in time, Ryan was certain he’d never seen anything or anyone quite as beautiful.
“What are you doing out here?” she asked.
“I couldn’t sleep,” he said, ignoring the flood of desire that had pooled in the vicinity of his lap. “Strange room, strange bed.”
“Strange situation,” Jennifer added. “But you did a good job tonight. I think everyone believed we were a couple.”
“Good. It wasn’t too difficult. You’re pretty easy to be nice to.”
Jennifer smiled. “Have I told you how much I appreciate what you’re doing?”
“Yes,” he replied. “Several times.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “It seems like a lot to do. I mean, in comparison with what I did for you. I turned your life upside down and you’re trying to help me keep mine upright.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not,” Jennifer said. “I feel like I owe you an explanation.”
He patted the cushion between his legs. “Sit.” Jennifer did as she was told, settling between his legs and leaning back against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her bare shoulder, the scent of her perfume tickling his nose. God, he loved holding her. Her body seemed to fit perfectly against his. “You don’t have to say anything. I don’t need explanations.”
“But I want to tell you,” she said. “I haven’t told anyone and maybe it’s time I talked about it.”
“All right,” Ryan said softly.
She paused for a long moment, as if putting all the words in order before she began. “We met at a lunchtime concert at Odessa College right before Memorial Day. Our offices are close by and I picked up lunch and decided to go listen to this bluegrass band. He sat down beside me and we started talking.” She paused again. “His name was Jim Kestwick and he was a nice guy, clean cut, well-mannered. It turns out he’s an officer in the Navy and he serves on an aircraft carrier. He was visiting his parents on leave. We spent three days together and he was charming and exciting and I thought I knew what I was doing. Then he told me he was engaged to a woman who lived out East. God, what a cliché I am! I thought I was smarter than that.”
“It’s not your fault,” Ryan said, smoothing her hair with his fingers. “Men can be such jerks.”
She glanced over her shoulder, twisting in his embrace until she could look at him. “I’ve never done anything like that in my life. When I realized I was pregnant, I called him. He came home once more before his ship was deployed again, so I met him and we talked. First, he didn’t believe the baby was his. Then he didn’t want anything to do with either one of us—me or the baby—and I guess I was glad that he’d made that decision. It made my life simpler.”
“So you decided to have the baby alone,” he murmured.
“There was no decision to be made. I know I can be a good mother. And though this isn’t the traditional route to parenthood, I’ve never been a very traditional person.” She drew a ragged breath than let it out slowly. “It feels good to tell someone. I’ve been so reluctant to talk about it. I didn’t want people to think less of me, although they’d have good reason.”
“I don’t think less of you,” he said.
“Somehow, I knew you wouldn’t. That’s why I wanted to tell you.”
“Now you just have to tell your parents.”
Jennifer stiffened slightly as she turned back to stare at the pool. “And how do you think I should do that?” She sat up. “‘Mamá and Papi, I’ve got a bun in the oven,’” she said in a firm voice, emphasizing the statement with a sweep of her arms. “‘I’m knocked up,’” she said a little louder. “‘I’m expecting,’” she said, her voice carrying in the still night air. “‘Surprise, surprise, I’m going to have a baby!’”
“Any one of those would probably do the trick,” Ryan said. “And if you shout any louder, you’ll wake up the entire household. Now, what am I supposed to say?”
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said.
“But it takes two to make a baby, Jen. Don’t you think they’ll want some type of explanation…or apology…or a nice pound of flesh? After all, I’m the one who put the bun in the oven—or at least that’s what we want them to believe. Your father doesn’t own any guns, does he?”
“You’re a man. According to my mother, it’s part of your nature to seduce every woman in your path. At least that’s what she’s been telling me since the moment I started noticing the opposite sex. Too bad I didn’t listen. I might not have ended up in this predicament.”
“And what happens after we tell them?”
“We’ll say we want to wait to get married until after the baby’s born. After a couple of months I’ll explain that we broke up. Maybe we had an argument about my job. Or how to raise the baby. It doesn’t really matter.”
“They’re not going to like me much,” he murmured. “That’s too bad, because I kind of like them.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. Your family is great. I mean, they’re so…real. So big—their laughter, their love. It’s different from what I’m used to. My parents always seemed so proper, as if they followed some manual on how to be the perfect parents.” He smiled. “When I was a kid, I used to ask my mother and father for a brother. All my friends had siblings and I wanted one of my own. I remember once when I asked my mom got all teary-eyed and ran out of the room. My dad said she had a cold, but I knew she was crying. I guess that wasn’t in the manual. After that, I didn’t ask anymore.”
“Was it hard? Growing up an only child?”
“I didn’t know any differently.”
She placed her hand on her stomach. “I hope that my baby has brothers and sisters.”
“I’m sure someday you’ll find someone. Someone who’ll be a wonderful father to your baby and give you a huge and happy family.”
“Do you think so?”
Ryan nuzzled his face into her hair, so gently she didn’t even notice. “You’re a beautiful, intriguing woman. A man would be lucky to spend his life with you.”
Jennifer sighed softly and leaned back against him. He wrapped his arms more tightly around her, and as they sat staring up into the night sky, the truth of his feelings drew into sharp focus.
Though he wanted to believe that Jennifer’s happiness was foremost in his heart, he couldn’t ignore his own selfish motives. If Jennifer’s baby needed brothers and sisters, he wanted to be the one to provide them. And if Jennifer spent the rest of her life with just one man, then he was going to make sure that man was him.
Now he just had to figure out how to make it all happen.
CHAPTER THREE
“WAKE UP, wake up! Today is my quinceañera!”
Jennifer groaned, then grabbed her pillow and pulled it over her head. “Go away,” she muttered. “It’s too early.”
“It’s nearly ten,” Maria countered. “Mamá says to come down. Everyone is here for almuerzo and Mamá won’t let us eat until you come down.”
More food, Jennifer mused as she rolled over. This time, a late breakfast.
Maria tugged on the pillow. “Your sweetie is up. He and Papi are standing in front of the garage having a very serious talk.”
She bolted upright, tossing the pillow aside. How could he already be up? They’d stayed outside talking into the wee hours before dawn. It was only after she’d fallen asleep in Ryan’s arms that he’d insisted she go to bed, tucking her in before he disappeared to his own room. “What are they talking about?”
“How should I know?” Maria said, scrambling from the bed. She stood in front of the dresser mirror and piled her shoulder-length hair on top of her head. “How do you think I should wear my hair? Mamá told me I have to wear it down, but I think I should wear it up. What do you think?”
“I think I’m way too intelligent to get in the middle of an argument between you and Mamá,” Jennifer replied, searching her garment bag for a dress that wasn’t too wrinkled.
Maria put on a pretty pout. “But you have a way with Mamá. She listens to you.”
Jennifer glanced over her shoulder. “What? Mamá doesn’t listen to me.”
“Yes, she does. She thinks you’re very independent and very together. She’s constantly telling me I should be more like you. That I should take my life more seriously and think about my future.”
Stunned by the revelation, Jennifer didn’t know what to say. She gnawed on her bottom lip. Her mother had always been so disapproving of her choices—at least on the surface. What would she have to say about the very independent notion of a single mother in the family? Jennifer certainly wasn’t setting a good example for her younger sisters on that score.
“I think you should follow your own path,” Jennifer said, crossing the room to stand beside Maria at the mirror. “And if you want to wear your hair up, then that’s what you should do.”
“Yes, I think I will.”
Jennifer slipped her arm around Maria’s shoulders and smiled. “Feliz cumpleaños, hermanita. Happy, happy birthday.”
Maria kissed her cheek, then ran out of the room, her mind already on other, more important events of the day. Before the late-afternoon mass, she’d be primped and pampered, her hair coiffed, her nails and toes buffed. For today, Maria was the center of the universe. Jennifer tugged her dress over her head. Was it fair to disrupt the celebration with her own news? She glanced at the engagement ring Ryan had given her. Maybe she could wait until right before they left tomorrow morning. That way if things got too heated they could just drive away.
She washed her face quickly and ran a brush through her hair, dabbed on a bit of lipstick and grabbed her shoes before running downstairs barefoot. Following Maria’s direction, she found her father and Ryan standing in front of the garage, deep in conversation. She hurried over. “Good morning!”
Her father grinned and opened his arms. “¡Buenos días, niña! Did you sleep well?”
Jennifer smiled at Ryan. “Very well, Papi.”
As an afterthought, Ryan brushed a nervous kiss on her cheek. “Morning,” he murmured. He reached down and wove his fingers through hers. “Your father and I were just having a nice talk.”
“Ryan was telling me all about his business. And I was telling him all about mine. This young man has a very bright future. Fifty-nine oil wells. Don’t let him get away, niña, or he’ll make a fine husband for some other girl.”
“I—I won’t, Papi,” Jennifer said. “Maria says brunch is almost ready. Everyone is gathered on the terrace.”
“Well, then we better hurry. Your mamá has a strict schedule for today. We wouldn’t want to do anything to upset it, now, would we?”
“No, Papi.”
Diego set off for the backyard and Jennifer and Ryan followed. “How did you really sleep?” Ryan whispered.
“I didn’t,” Jennifer replied. “Just a few hours. I couldn’t stop thinking about my announcement. I’ve decided we should at least wait until late tonight, after the party. That way, my parents will be so exhausted, they won’t have the energy to argue. What do you think of that plan?”
“Whatever you decide,” Ryan said.
“And then I was thinking, we could wait until tomorrow morning, right before church. That way Mamá can go to the priest for consolation and I can go to confession. That might make it easier. Or maybe, right before we leave for home. That way, we can make a quick escape.”
Ryan drew her to a stop and turned her to face him. “Jen, there’s never going to be a good time. You have to tell them this weekend, and if you wait much longer, there won’t be any weekend left.”
“I—I will. I promise.”
“Would you rather I took your father aside and told him first? Maybe he could tell your mother and break it to her gently?”
“You’d do that?” Jennifer asked, her voice filled with relief and gratitude. “That might work. Papi already likes you. And he has a way with Mamá. Oh, yes, let’s do it that way. You can tell him tonight, after the party.”
Ryan nodded. “All right. It’s a plan. Now, let’s go get some breakfast.”
When they arrived in the backyard, nearly everyone was seated at the long tables her mother had set up. Only close relatives had been invited to share in the meal—Jennifer’s aunts and uncles and cousins, totalling nearly thirty. Once again, her mother had gone overboard with the food. The tables were loaded with tasty dishes—huevos rancheros, jamón and salchichas, and pan dulce, her mother’s famous homemade sweet rolls. Baskets of corn tortillas were placed in the center of the tables and platters of fresh fruit were passed from guest to guest while her mother poured orange juice and coffee.
Jennifer slid into a spot next to Tía Yolanda, her father’s only sister, kissing her cheek as she wished her buenos días. Ryan sat beside her, and Teresa, hovering in the background, took the last empty spot beside Ryan. She looked up at him with adoring eyes and Jennifer shot her a scolding look.
When everyone was settled, Diego rose solemnly. “Familia, amigos. With this meal, we begin a very special day for my niña, Maria. I hope you’ll join me in wishing her feliz quinceañera.” He held up his glass of orange juice. “May the Lord bless this day and may he bless our girl, Maria.”
The rest of the guests held up their glasses and joined in the toast. After a short prayer, the meal began in earnest. Tía Yolanda, known for her great appreciation of food, piled Jennifer’s plate high. When the pan dulce made its way to their side of the table, she took two sweet rolls for herself and handed one to Jennifer. “Your mama has a way with her oven,” she said, laughing boisterously. She turned to look for Carmen. “Carmen! I was just telling Jennifer that you have a way with your oven!”
Carmen smiled and made her way over to Yolanda. “Yolanda, you like my baking?”
“¡Muy buena! ¡Me gusta!”
“Jennifer has a bun in her oven,” Teresa piped up, a gap-toothed smile splitting her eager face, her brown eyes sparkling.
Jennifer’s heart stopped and her jaw dropped. Orange juice, halfway down her throat, came back up with a cough and she pressed her napkin to her mouth, her eyes watering.
“Niña, we all know Jennifer is not so good in the kitchen,” Carmen said, ruffling Teresa’s hair.
“No, she is,” Teresa insisted. “I think she’s taking cooking lessons.”
“Teresa, shh!” Jennifer hissed, watching as the rest of the guests began to turn their attention toward her youngest sister.
Ryan handed the little girl a sweet roll, waving it in front of her face. “Have something to eat, Teresa. Aren’t you hungry? If you eat that whole roll, I’ll play fútbol with you after breakfast.”
Teresa took the roll. “Jenny and Ryan were in the garden last night and she told him she had a bun in her oven. I was listening from my tree house.”
Carmen’s eyes went wide. “And what else did Jenny say?”
“She said she’s knocked up, too. And she’s going to have a baby.”
“Oh, God,” Jennifer murmured.
“There it is,” Ryan said.
“¡Dios mío!” Carmen stumbled backward, the pitcher of orange juice slipping from her fingers and shattering at her feet. “Is—is this true, Jennifer? Did Teresa hear right?”
Jennifer looked from her mother to her father, who was slowly rising from his chair, then to all the relatives, who were waiting with undisguised curiosity for her reply. Frantic to repair the damage done by Teresa’s announcement, she scrambled for a way to cover. She slowly stood and cleared her throat. “Mamá, Papi, I—I have something to tell you both.” She pasted a bright smile on her face, but it did little to alter her parents’ glowering expressions. Then, she glanced down at Ryan and he rose to stand beside her.
Tears pressed at the corners of her eyes, but she brushed them away. Now was not the time to turn into a blubbering idiot. She glanced down at the ring, twisting the diamond onto the top of her finger. Trembling, she held out her hand. “Ryan and I are engaged,” she murmured, emotion clogging her throat. “And—and we’re going to have a baby.”
The guests fell quiet, everyone except Tía Yolanda, who groaned softly and fanned her face with her napkin. But the silence didn’t last long.
A wail burst from Maria. “Mama, she’s ruined my quinceañera!”
The guests’ silence dissolved into excited chatter. Linda began to whine that she didn’t understand what buns had to do with a baby. Joe sat at the end of the table, chuckling and shaking his head. Diego shoved his chair back and stalked around the table to join Jennifer’s mother. “Is this true?” he asked Ryan. “Have you ruined my daughter?”
Ryan drew a deep breath and slipped his arm around Jennifer. “Mr. Rodriguez, I love your daughter. And though we may not have followed the traditional route, we are both devoted to each other and to this child. Now, you can accept that or you can send us both from this house. But this baby is your first grandchild and I would hate to think that you’re going to miss out on a single moment of his or her life.”
Jennifer stared up at Ryan, caught by the power and candor of his words. She couldn’t help but wish they were all true. That he did love her and that they were devoted to each other, that this wasn’t all a big lie. Her gaze jumped to her father, whose expression had softened slightly. Her mother, on the other hand, looked completely aghast, as if she’d just seen Tía Yolanda strip off her clothes and dance naked on the breakfast table.
“Can we discuss this in private?” Jennifer asked.
Carmen shook her head. “Diego, this is Maria’s day and I do not want anything to spoil it. We will discuss this later.” She sent Jennifer a glare that made daggers look dull. “I will deal with you later.” Sucking in a sharp breath, she forced a smile and glanced around the breakfast table. “Well, this is wonderful news, is it not? We have many things to celebrate today, but most important is Maria. Now, we must eat. The food is getting cold. Maria, go get your crown and show Tía Yolanda how pretty it is.”
With that pronouncement, the guests understood precisely what Carmen Rodriguez expected of them. Jennifer’s news was to be pushed aside for the more important events of the day. It was not to be mentioned until after Maria’s quinceañera.
Jennifer and Ryan slowly sat back down in their places and smiled wanly as the dishes were passed to them.
“Well,” Ryan murmured after the conversation had turned back to Maria. “Though that didn’t exactly follow the plan, I think it went well, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Jennifer replied numbly. “I think it went very well.”
* * *
“THIS BABY will not be born outside the sanctity of marriage! We will plan a wedding for the beginning of November. Four weeks should give us plenty of time to make all the arrangements, to post the banns, and for you to take your classes with the priest.”
The house was silent. The last guest had left a half hour ago, just before midnight. The belle of the ball, Maria, had wearily kissed her parents good-night and wandered up to bed, her pretty white dress wilted and her crown askew. Teresa and Linda had retired before ten, and Joe had gone for a late-night pizza with a few of his cousins, who had served as chambelanes.
Jennifer groaned. “Mamá, we can’t possibly plan a church wedding in four weeks. Ryan and I have decided that we’ll wait until the baby is born before we get married. That way it won’t be so obvious to all the wedding guests.”
“Well, it will not be obvious if we rush the wedding along,” Carmen insisted. “If Teresa would not have blurted out your condition for everyone to hear, I never would have suspected. Of course, there will be whispers. Siete mesino.”
At Ryan’s confused expression, Jennifer leaned closer. “Seven-month baby,” she whispered. Considering how her plan was going so far, she wasn’t about to inform her mother that it would be more like cuatro mesino, an even greater scandal. Jennifer had assumed the notion of a pregnant daughter walking down the aisle of St. Benedict’s, dressed in the obligatory gown and veil, was something her mother would never endorse. Though her parents would not consider her a married woman unless she exchanged vows in front of Father Juan, the Rodriguezes’ family priest, she’d been certain they’d agree to a ceremony after the baby was born.
But this turn of events threw a serious kink into her strategy. She’d have to announce her engagement and “breakup” with Ryan in the course of four weeks. Little more than a week or two if she wanted her parents to recover a small measure of their investment in a hastily planned wedding.
“Mamá, we can’t pretend that everything is proceeding in the right order. The entire family knows, and if they know, most of El Paso will know by tomorrow evening.”
Diego exhaled slowly and sat back in his chair. Everyone looked to him, waiting to hear his first words on the subject. Jennifer was afraid he’d tear into Ryan, blaming him for the mess she was in. She reached over and covered Ryan’s hand with hers to show her support.
“Though I am disappointed in your behavior, Jennifer, I am happy to see that you’ve found yourself a fine man to take care of you. You know I’ve never liked you living alone in a strange city, and now my fears are calmed. With Ryan to watch over you, you won’t be making any more mistakes.”
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