Page 19 of Beside the Rolling Waves
Meeting with Rita, and helping her, would maybe make it right a little bit, but…he might have a child that he never met.
That made him angry. How dare Stella keep the child away from him?
But most of him thought that she was lying. Especially if it was a baby. Still, that child needed a father. Someone needed to step up and claim it. Or maybe Stella just wanted the richest guy to step up, even if she had to force him.
What if he didn’t fight her? What if he just accepted the child and became a father to it?
He had no idea where that idea came from. That certainly wasn’t on his radar. He wasn’t interested in being a father to anyone’s child except for Becky’s, and being how infatuated she was with her horses, he used to wonder if she would ever want to have children. Her horses were her babies. They always had been.
And he’d seen those Clydesdales. They were her dream come true. He would be willing to bet that in the summer, she would be sleeping in the stable with her horses, rather than in her bed, just because she loved them that much. She’d probably do it in the winter too if she didn’t think she’d freeze to death. A shot of fear went through him when he figured she was stubborn and gritty enough to attempt it anyway.
The crazy girl. It was amazing that she had made it this far in life without any kind of major catastrophe happening to her, as much as she rushed headlong into things, with a bulldog stubbornness that was absolutely unmatched.
He shouldn’t have left her alone so long without his protection. Who knew what she could have gotten herself into.
And then he thought about himself and the possibility that he had a child, and he thought that maybe he was the one who shouldn’t have been left alone.
Not that she had a choice.
“Hey there. My goodness, it’s cold out,” Rita said, walking up to him.
He had to do a double take. It had been a while since he had seen her, but he wouldn’t have recognized her. Her eyes were sunken, her face sallow, her stomach sticking out, and the rest of her looked like a stick.
“I’m supposed to be on bed rest, but I was not going to say no to a fancy restaurant. I’ve never eaten here.” She looked up at the big, shiny window and smiled an eager smile.
He had not realized she was on bed rest. “You should have told me you were on bed rest.”
“And then we wouldn’t be here, going to eat at a restaurant I never even knew existed. And can I say I am so excited? Although, I would feel bad if I didn’t know you could afford it.”
“Yeah. I can afford it. You don’t need to feel bad. I also know people who know people, and while this restaurant usually doesnot do takeout, they would do it for me. We could have met at your bedside with the delicious food, and you would still be obeying your doctor’s orders, and I would not feel terrified right now that something is going to happen and it’s going to be my fault.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to terrify you,” she said, not looking the slightest bit sorry. But she patted his arm and then nodded at the door. “Are we going in? I’m freezing.”
She looked like it too. And he wondered if that was the sickness. The cancer or whatever. She looked terrible. As she walked, she hunched over a little, as though she were in some kind of pain.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” he said, leaning down so he could speak into her ear.
“I’m fine.”
“You look like you’re hurting.”
“I am. But to eat here is worth it.”
He could have told her that of all the places that he’d eaten, this was not the best. That the diner in Blueberry Beach had just as good food, and the atmosphere was much better. The company was even better than that. That here they would be eating with a bunch of people who thought that they were better than what they were and who looked down their noses on anyone who didn’t have as much money or weren’t what they considered sophisticated.
“Then let me escort you, my dear,” he said, holding out his arm, which she looked at and then grinned up at him before tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow, grinning like she was on a date for prom.
If this was going to make her happy, then he was happy to do it. It was that verse about giving again. Sometimes giving wasn’t necessarily money or things. Sometimes giving was time or an experience that another person couldn’t have on their own.
The host found their reservation and then instructed them to be taken to their seats. He’d asked for the best one in the house and expected to get it, since he’d made the reservation earlier in the week and had added a little bit of money to go along with his request. Typically the place was booked out for months.
It was interesting what wealth could do. How it could grease the wheels and make life easier and, some would say, better.
“Wow. This is so amazing,” she said, looking around. “Better than pictures, for sure.”
“Better than the video they have on Facebook too,” he said.
“Yeah, much better than any I’ve seen. Wow. The ambience.” She sighed.
