She knew she sounded hard, but she was in a hard place and Jake’s mother hadn’t made it any easier. Not that anything would, she thought despairingly.
Elizabeth Carter was clearly upset by this outcome. “I’m sorry...” she began again.
“It’s okay,” Amy rushed out dismissively, wanting the conversation dropped. She couldn’t bear it on top of everything else. “Let’s just watch the match through and then I’ll go.”
“Jake won’t want you to go.”
“I make my own decisions, Mrs. Carter.”
She had for a long time. A very long time. Starting when she’d decided independence was the only way to survive intact in her father’s household, not to care, not to want, not to need what she didn’t have. And now she looked out over Jake’s family, feeling like a disembodied outsider, watching a magic circle she could never hope to join. Not freely.
Her baby might be a passport to it in a limited sense— Jake was kind—but that kindness could be a terrible cruelty, too—to be given a taste while not truly belonging. The only way she and their child could properly belong would be if Jake were her husband, and she couldn’t trap him into marriage like that. Marriage should not be a trap. For anyone.
It hurt to watch him. She tried to move her attention to the others but her gaze kept being drawn back to him...the father of her child...the accidental father... unaware that part of him was growing inside her. Was it right not to tell him? Was it best, in the long run, to just disappear from his life?
She didn’t know.
She felt as though she didn’t know anything anymore.
She was in chaos. It wasn’t the happy chaos of a Carter family Christmas. It was the dark chaos that came with the constant beating of uncertainties.
Finally the game was over, Adam and Nathan conceding victory to Jake and Ruth, and Jake was coming for her, wanting her to play.
And she had to find an answer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“WINNER’S choice now,” Jake crowed. “Amy and I challenge Ruth and Martin.”
“You can have it, boyo,” the oldest brother, Nathan, groaned. “I’m for a long cool drink.”
“Me, too,” Adam agreed. “Preferably in the pool.”
“Ah, the frailties of age,” Jake teased.
“You’ll get yours,” Nathan retorted. “Martin will wipe you off the court.”
“Huh! You don’t know my Amy.”
My Amy... and the glorious grin he aimed at her... she couldn’t take any more turmoil.
“Not me, Jake,” she quickly protested. “Take Grace as your partner. I really must be going now.” She stood up, preparing to make her farewells.
“Going?” He looked incredulous.
“It’s been a wonderful day...”
“It’s not over yet,” he argued. “We light up the barbecue at about seven and...”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stay.”
“Why not?” Ruth demanded, getting in on the act. “We need you to balance up the party, Amy.”
She forced a smile. “The truth is I have a raging headache. Too much champagne over lunch, I guess. Please don’t mind.”
Elizabeth Carter leapt up from her chair. “You should have said, Amy. I’ll get you some pills to take.”
“You could lie down for a while,” Ruth suggested.
“No, please...” Amy reached out to stay Jake’s mother, unaware her eyes filled with anguished appeal. “Just let me go. All right?”
The older woman hesitated, then blurted out, “I’m so sorry...”
“For what, Mum?” Jake asked sharply.
“That I’m not up to more fun and games,” Amy hastily explained. She forced another smile. “I’d like to say my goodbyes, Jake.”
He searched her eyes, obviously sensing something wrong beyond the headache. However, much to Amy’s intense relief, he decided not to press the point. “You’re the boss today,” he said with his quirky smile. “Mum, would you mind getting the headache tablets for Amy to take before she goes?”
“Of course, dear.”
“Can’t have you driving in pain,” he said, then raised his voice. “Hey, everyone! Amy has to leave now so come and wish her well.”
They all bunched around, shaking hands, kissing her cheek, saying what a pleasure it was to have met her. It passed in a blur to Amy. She hoped she made suitable responses. Jake’s mother handed her a glass of water and two pills. She took them. The raging headache was very real. The crowd around her receded. So did the noise. Finally, there was only Jake who took the glass from her, set it down on a table, then wrapped her arm around his.
“Are you sure you’re fit to drive, Amy?” he asked in concern as he walked her into the house.
It was all she could do not to tremble at his touch, his nearness. He didn’t realise the effect he was having on her, the sheer torture of being so closely linked, yet impossibly far from what she wanted of him. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted huskily.
He paused her in the family room. “I’ll sit with you for a while if you like. Some quiet time won’t go amiss.”
“No. I don’t want to be a trouble.” It was hard to keep a frantic note out of her voice. She broke away from him to pick up her handbag which she’d left on a chair by the Christmas tree.
Christmas ... peace, hope and goodwill... it was a joke... a wickedly painful black joke!
“It’s no trouble,” Jake assured her.
“I’ll be fine,” she insisted more firmly, and having collected her bag, she headed for the foyer, every step driven by the need to get away from the torment he stirred.
He followed. “Amy, did Mum say anything to upset you?” Urgent concern in his voice now.
“Why should she?” she flipped back.
“Because my mother has a habit of thinking she knows best,” he grated out.
“Most parents do.” Except me, Amy thought, in helpless panic. Here she was, a parent in the making, with no idea what was best.
“You’re not answering my question,” Jake persisted.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He halted her by stepping in front of her, right in the centre of the foyer which served the front door. “You matter,” he said with quiet force. “You matter to me.”
Do I? ... Do I?
The words pounded through her mind as she lifted her head to search his eyes for how much she mattered to him. Golden eyes, burning fiercely. But what did it mean?