Название: A Baby of Her Own
Автор: Brenda Novak
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Контркультура
Серия: Mills & Boon Cherish
isbn: 9781408944523
isbn:
“I’ll think about it,” she said instead, then mentally kicked herself. She was never going to overcome her passivity. She’d probably be the first person to fail a class that gave no grades.
“Ralph could borrow the neighbor’s truck, so we wouldn’t have any trouble moving your things,” Millie said, struggling to lift the breakfast tray from across her lap.
Delaney put down her dusting cloth and went to help. “I’ll get that,” she said, setting it on the nightstand. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like another cup of coffee?”
“No. Ralph says drinking so much coffee will kill me. But arthritis won’t let me do much of anything else these days. I’m just sitting here getting fat.”
Uncle Ralph was at the barbershop, probably drinking his own share of coffee while he complained about the rising price of gasoline to the same friends he’d met there every Sunday for the past thirty years. Dundee was nothing if not comfortable with routine.
“Uncle Ralph likes the way you look, and so do I,” Delaney said, straightening the covers on Aunt Millie’s bed.
Aunt Millie raised a gnarled hand to pat her arm. “You’re a good girl, Laney. I’ve always been so proud of you. I knew the moment I saw you when you were just six years old that you were nothing like your mother. And you’ve never disappointed me.”
Delaney felt the bonds of obligation grow a little tighter, tying her hands, trapping her in the mold Millie had created for her. And fear overwhelmed her as the memories she’d been trying so hard to suppress for the past twenty-four hours quickly surfaced—Conner standing at his hotel room door wearing only his jeans…Conner smiling above her…Conner’s lips, his hands, his body…
She closed her eyes, feeling as though she might pass out. What if she was pregnant? What if she had to tell Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph that their perfect little girl wasn’t so perfect after all?
“It’s getting kind of late,” she said awkwardly, her face growing hot. “If I don’t head home, there’ll be people breaking down my door for pies. You think you’ll be okay here until Uncle Ralph gets back?”
“Of course.” Aunt Millie waved her away. “I’ve got my cross-stitch. And the books you brought me.”
Delaney moved the stack of romances she’d checked out of the library closer to the bed so Aunt Millie could reach them, then did the same with the remote control to the television. “You want me to raise the blind a little higher?” she asked, hearing the reedy thinness of her voice and hoping Aunt Millie wouldn’t notice it. “It’s overcast right now, but the weather report said we’re supposed to get some sun later this afternoon.”
“That would be nice, dear.”
Delaney raised the blind, put away the dust cloth, gathered the coupons Aunt Millie had clipped for the weekly grocery shopping—which Delaney did every Monday before work—and reclaimed the breakfast tray. “There’s an apple pie in the fridge for your dessert,” she said, dropping a quick kiss on Aunt Millie’s lined cheek.
Then she ducked her head and hurried out of the room, eager to escape that loving smile and those adoring eyes, afraid that Aunt Millie would see what a fraud she really was. Afraid that if Aunt Millie looked too hard, she’d realize Delaney was her mother’s daughter, after all.
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