“But when I got downstairs I didn’t say anything,” Jeff said, “because, well, you know.”
Robin nodded and sipped her coffee in an effort to hide her discomfort.
Jeff picked up his cereal bowl and drank the remainder of the milk in loud gulps. He wiped the back of his hand across his lips. “I suppose this means you’re going to have a baby now.”
Robin was too horrified to speak. The swallow of coffee got stuck in her throat and she started choking. Trying to help her breathe, Jeff pounded her back with his fist, which only added to her misery.
By the time she caught her breath, tears were streaking down her face.
“You all right, Mom?” Jeff asked, his eyes wide with concern. He rushed into the bathroom and returned with a wad of tissue.
“Thanks,” she whispered, wiping her face. It took her a moment or two to regain her composure. This was a talk she’d planned on having with him soon—but not quite yet. “Jeff, listen...kissing doesn’t make babies.”
“It doesn’t? But I thought... I hoped... You mean you won’t be having a baby?”
“I... Not from kissing,” she whispered, taking in deep breaths to stabilize her pulse.
“I suppose the next thing you’re gonna tell me is we’ll have to save up for a baby the way we did for the house and now the fence before we get me a dog.”
This conversation was getting too complicated. “No, we wouldn’t have to save for a baby.”
“Then what’s the holdup?” her son demanded. “I like the idea of being a big brother. I didn’t think much about it until we moved here. Then when we were having dinner at the Chinese restaurant I heard this grandma and grandpa in the booth next to us talking, and they were saying neat things about us being a family. That’s when I started thinking about babies and stuff.”
“Jeff,” Robin said, rubbing her hands together as she collected her thoughts. “There’s more to it than that. Before there’s a baby, there should be a husband.”
“Well, of course,” Jeff returned, looking at her as if she’d insulted his intelligence. “You’d have to marry Cole first, but that’d be all right with me. You like him, don’t you? You must like him or you wouldn’t be kissing him that way.”
Robin sighed. Of course she liked Cole, but it wasn’t that simple. Unfortunately she wasn’t sure she could explain it in terms a ten-year-old could understand. “I—”
“I can’t remember ever seeing you kiss a guy like that. You looked real serious. And when I was sneaking back up the stairs, I heard him ask you to have dinner alone with him tonight and that seemed like a real good sign.”
The next time Cole kissed her, Robin thought wryly, they’d have to scurry into a closet. The things that child came up with...
“You are going to dinner with him, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“Then what’s the problem? I’ll ask him to marry you if you want.”
“Jeff!” she cried, leaping to her feet. “Absolutely not! That’s between Cole and me, and neither of us would appreciate any assistance from you. Is that clearly understood?”
“All right,” he sighed, but he didn’t look too pleased. He reached for a piece of toast, shredding it into thirds. “But you’re going to marry him, aren’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why not? Cole’s the best thing that’s ever happened to us.”
Her son was staring at her intently, his baseball cap twisted around to the back of his head. Now that she had his full attention, Robin couldn’t find the words to explain. “It’s more complicated than you realize, sweetie.” She made a show of glancing at the clock. “Anyway, it’s time to change and get ready for church.”
Jeff nodded and rushed up the stairs. Robin followed at a much slower pace, grateful to put an end to this difficult and embarrassing subject.
The minute they were home from the service, Jeff grabbed his baseball mitt. “Jimmy Wallach and I are going to the school yard to practice hitting balls. Okay?”
“Okay,” Robin said absently. “How long will you be gone?”
“An hour.”
“I’m going grocery shopping, so if I’m not home when you get back you know what to do?”
“Of course,” he muttered.
* * *
“You’re Robin Masterson, aren’t you?” a tall middle-aged woman asked as she maneuvered her grocery cart alongside Robin’s.
“Yes,” Robin said. The other woman’s eyes were warm and her smile friendly.
“I thought you must be—I’ve seen you from a distance. I’m Joyce Wallach. Jimmy and Jeff have become good friends. In fact, they’re at the school yard now.”
“Of course,” Robin said, pleased to make the other woman’s acquaintance. They’d talked on the phone several times, and she’d met Joyce’s husband once, when Jimmy had spent the night. The boys had wanted to play on the same baseball team and were disappointed when they’d been assigned to different teams. It had been Jimmy who’d told Jeff about the death of Cole’s son.
“I’ve been meaning to invite you to the house for coffee,” Joyce went on to say, “but I started working part-time and I can’t seem to get myself organized.”
“I know what you mean.” Working full-time, keeping up with Jeff and her home was about all Robin could manage herself. She didn’t know how other mothers were able to accomplish so much.
“There’s a place to sit down here,” Joyce said, and her eyes brightened at the idea. “Do you have time to chat now?”
Robin nodded. “Sure. I’ve been wanting to meet you, too.” The Wallachs lived two streets over, and Robin fully approved of Jimmy as a friend for Jeff. He and Kelly had become friends, too, but her ten-year-old son wasn’t as eager to admit being buddies with a girl. Kelly was still a green apple in Jeff’s eye, but the time would come when he’d appreciate having her next door.
“I understand Jeff’s quite the baseball player,” Joyce said at the self-service counter.
Robin smiled. She poured herself a plastic cup of iced tea and paid for it. “Jeff really loves baseball. He was disappointed he couldn’t play with Jimmy.”
“They separate the teams according to the kid’s year of birth. Jimmy’s birthday is in January so he’s with another group.” She frowned. “That doesn’t really make much sense, does it?” She chuckled, and Robin couldn’t help responding to the soft infectious sound of Joyce’s laughter. She found herself laughing, too.