Not Your Everyday Housewife Read Online Free PDF Page A

into his shirt and reached for his slacks.
    “I didn’t mean anything,” she whispered. “I just really wanted you to be here tonight. Kind of a celebration.”
    He eyed the champagne. “Another promotion?”
    “No, nothing like that.” She moved closer and stroked his cheek. “It’s us, Richard. I wanted to celebrate us.” And our baby.
    He brushed her hand away. “I can’t.”
    “I love you.”
    “Jesus, please don’t start with that.”
    “I just want to hear you say it.”
    “I am not going to do this, Shea, not now.” He grabbed his jacket and breezed past her. “I’ll see you later. Don’t wait up for me.”
    She watched the back of his head, the thick curls of black, swirled with silver. I’m pregnant. With your baby.
    Richard swung around. “What did you say?”
    Had she spoken aloud?
    He moved toward her slowly, his eyes on her stomach. “What did you say, Shea?”
    “I’m pregnant.”
    “Pregnant.” The word fell out of his mouth, thick and foreign.
    She ignored this, desperate to have him share her excitement. “You’re going to be a father,” she said softly.
    “I’ve already done that.”
    “No.” She touched his forearm. “This is going to be different. You’re not going to raise a child limited to every other weekend and two weeks in the summer. You’ll have contact every day, teaching him, or her, how to ride a bike, climb a tree, put together an erector set.”
    “I think those hormones have gone to your head.” He gentled his voice. “Do I look like the kind of man who’s going to stay home Saturday nights building an erector set?”
    “But it’s for our child.”
    “Shea, come on, open your eyes.”
    “But we wanted this child.”
    “You wanted it, not me. I never wanted the first two.”
    “But we talked about it.”
    “ You talked about it.”
    “But you let me think you wanted it too.”
    “I never thought you’d get pregnant. You’re forty-one years old. Christ, chances are more likely you’d be going through the change than getting pregnant.”
    “You…” She fell back against the sink, clutching her stomach.
    “I’m sorry, Shea. What else do you want me to say?”
    She slid to the floor, hands clasped under her shirt. “All this time, I believed you wanted it, too.”
    “You believed what you wanted to believe. You think the world is wonderful and nobody screws anybody intentionally. Wake up. We all screw each other.”
    Tears burned her eyes, spilled down her cheeks. “Do you love me, Richard?”
    He shrugged. “Sure, sure I do, Shea. Now I’ve really gotta go. Get rid of the kid, okay? And get your tubes tied while you’re at it.”
    ***
    “I love you, Mommy.” Charlie flung his tanned arms around Derry’s neck and pressed his little face against her chest.
    “I love you, too, sweetheart.” She stroked his soft, wavy hair, the color of Godiva chocolate. Just like his father.
    “Do you want to play Don’t Spill the Beans or Ants in Your Pants?” His head bounced up and he waited, lips puckered, eyes wide.
    Derry looked away. The hair, the eyes, even the ears, would it ever stop? Would she ever look at Charlie and not see her husband screwing another woman?
    “Mommy? Please?”
    “Not tonight, Charlie. We’ll play tomorrow, after school.”
    He frowned and thrust out his lower lip. “I can’t wait ‘til I’m ten. Then I can stay up all night like Josh.”
    “Oh, really? I’ll bet Mrs. Hathaway would like to hear that. Now scoot to bed.” She tucked the covers under his chin, just the way he liked it, to keep monsters away . “Good night, I love you.”
    “I love you.”
    “Sleep tight and don’t let the bedbugs bite.” She pushed a curl from his forehead.
    “If they do,” he growled, “bite ‘em back!”
    Derry blew him a kiss and turned out the light, closing the door behind her. The master bedroom was at the end of the hall. Charlie didn’t ask why she and daddy didn’t sleep in the same room anymore. He now