Expectations

“Oh, I see the connection. You think I look like a girl.”

The boy rolled his eyes. “No, I just don’t want to wait while you spend an hour in the bathroom.”

“So it’s a baseball-cap day, huh?”

Ryan grinned. “Yeah, just wear a hat!”

The prospect of a long drive without Jenna dimmed Adam’s enthusiasm. After what had happened last night, he didn’t want to leave her side until he knew what Dennis was going to do. But Oregon was nearly a full day’s travel away. She should be safe until some time after noon, and he, Ryan, Pop and Gram would be back by then.

Adam was surprised to realize that he wasn’t upset about the possibility of postponing his return to San Francisco. Spending more time in Jenna’s company appealed to him, despite the knowledge that it would probably be better for both of them if he kept his distance.

Humans were so perverse, he mused. The more they knew they shouldn’t have something, the more they wanted it.

“All right, squirt. Out you go, so I can dress.”

Ryan ambled to the door, tossing a baseball a foot or two into the air and catching it with a stiff new glove.

“You think we can play catch later on?” he asked as the ball landed with a satisfying plop.

“Sure. Looks like we need to get that glove oiled up and broken in.”

“Yeah.” Ryan’s grin widened at the prospect, and Adam wondered how a father could let anything come between him and a boy like this.

And a woman like Jenna.

For a moment he actually pitied Dennis. His old friend had lost a lot. Granted, it was his own fault—but what did he have left in his life?

As soon as the door closed, Adam threw off the covers and started digging through his suitcase.

“Adam? You ready? The day’ll be half-gone before we get out of here if we don’t go now,” Gram’s voice called from downstairs.

“Half-gone! It’s not even seven o’clock, and it’s Saturday,” Adam muttered, buttoning his faded jeans and pulling on a 49ers sweatshirt. His grandparents would never change. They got up at dawn every day, even when it was only to have fun.

“After dragging me from my bed, I hope you at least have a cup of coffee waiting for me,” Adam called back, settling a baseball cap over his sleep-tousled hair.

There was no answer, but he knew Gram well enough to expect more than a cup of coffee. She’d probably fixed him a ten-course meal. Remembering the quick bowl of cold cereal or occasional Pop Tart he tossed down before rushing off to the office in San Francisco, he thought he could get used to the pleasures of living in Mendocino again. Then he realized something—until that very moment, he hadn’t known how much he’d missed it. Small town, slow pace. Home and family.

“Hey, this is what I went to San Francisco to get away from,” he grumbled, then opened the door to find Ryan waiting in the hall. “Come on, kid. Let’s go.”

AFTER GETTING a couple of rooms ready in case they had some drive-by business that evening, Jenna went to her studio, planning to spend the morning finishing her stained-glass window of the lake and trees. Pamela, the maid, had the day off, and Mr. Robertson wouldn’t be in until four o’clock to start dinner, so she was alone, and grateful for the solitude.

Flipping on the space heater to get rid of the chill, she studied the glass she’d cut before bed the night before and decided to start leading the window. She had a penciled drawing of the finished work on the table under the glass. But the telephone interrupted her before she could begin.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jen. It’s me.” Laura Wakefield was the one friend Jenna had grown up with in Mendocino who hadn’t married or moved away. She still lived with her parents, just a few miles down the highway, and helped her mother care for her father, a victim of Alzheimer’s.

“Laura, what are you doing up this early? It’s only eleven o’clock. You never roll out of bed before noon.”

“A fringe benefit of working the late shift.”

“You manage a seafood restaurant that closes at ten. That’s hardly the late shift.”

“Well, it’s not the early shift, either, which means I can sleep in if I want. Anyway, today I thought I’d drive over to Fort Bragg to see a matinee. Feel like coming with me?”

Jenna considered the work in progress waiting on her table. “I’m working on the lake piece. Then I’ve got to see about ordering more brochures for the Victoriana. And I promised Mrs. Durham I’d finish their website. So I’d better pass for today.” She considered telling Laura about Adam’s being in town, then decided against it. Her friend would want to know exactly how she felt about seeing him for the first time in fifteen years, and Jenna didn’t want to identify her feelings, let alone talk about them.

She realized that if she spent much time with Laura, she’d end up telling her anyway, but that didn’t stop her from extending the usual invitation. “Want to come over for a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No. I’m going to have a shower and color my hair.”

“You are? You’ve never colored your hair before.”

“I know, but my dad’s sister is in town. She’s helping take care of him and I’m ready for a change, and one of the waitresses at the restaurant said I should go blond.”

“As in bleach blond?”

“Is there any other kind for a brunette?”

“Oh, no, Laura, think of the roots.”

“It’ll be a hassle, but if I do it often enough—”

“You’ll ruin the texture of your hair.”

“I take it you don’t like the idea.”

“I think you’ll regret it.”

“Hmm. Maybe I will. Anyway, my stomach’s a bit queasy. I should probably just go back to sleep.”

Reminded of her own nausea, and the baby, Jenna put a hand to her stomach. “I’ve got something to tell you,” she said.

“So tell me.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“What?”

Jenna held the phone away from her ear, but she was too late to avoid the blast of Laura’s exclamation.

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated.

“Oh, my gosh! And I thought you led this chaste little life. Where have you been going without me?”

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