Friday night Mallory picked up the phone to call Drew. They’d fallen into a routine of sharing pizza and watching a movie on Net-flix at the end of each work week, and now that she was in her fourth month of pregnancy, her problems with nausea had subsided. Suddenly, anchovies and olives appealed to her again.
“I’ll order the ‘all dressed,’” she told Drew on the phone. “You pick up the beer.”
“Is it my turn to pick the movie?”
“We watched that political satire you chose last week,” she reminded him.
“And you fell asleep halfway through. At least I have the good manners to watch all the way through the romcoms you always choose.”
“That’s because they’re so interesting. Thanks for proving my point.” Mallory disconnected, laughing, then called their favorite pizza place.
Drew beat the pizza by ten minutes, bringing his favorite craft lager from the Muskoka Brewery as well as a non-alcoholic beer for her. She’d already loaded the movie she’d chosen for the night, an old favorite—Four Weddings and a Funeral.
“I haven't seen it.” Drew was on the sofa, legs stretched out to the coffee table. His dark hair was in disarray as usual, and she couldn't resist the urge to reach out and muss it further.
“How is this possible? Drew, you must have seen this movie.”
He stood as the doorbell rang. “Trust me, I haven’t.” He paid for the pizza, then opened the cardboard box. The aroma of fresh-baked dough, melted cheese and spicy meat made Mallory feel ravenous. “Boy, it’s great to be able to eat again.”
“Good. You’ve got some catching up to do after those first few months.”
Drew put a pizza slice on a white paper napkin and passed it to her. She wondered if he’d noticed that she’d started to wear maternity clothes. Well, sort of maternity. Her waist had finally expanded a couple of inches, so she no longer fit into anything with a waistband. Today she was wearing leggings and an oversize sweater. As she ate, she smoothed the fabric over her belly, thinking she saw the beginning of a bulge there.
Immediately, she realized Drew was watching. She felt the heat rise in her cheeks and reached for her cold beer.
“You're so cute,” Drew teased pulling a strand of her hair. “You want to get fatter, don’t you?”
“And you’re making fun of me,” she said, smoothing her sweater down. “But don't you think I’m starting to look pregnant?”
“I don’t know about your stomach. Other body parts—yes. They’re definitely expanding.”
She knew what he meant by that. She’d already gone up one bra size and would soon need another. She jabbed him with her elbow. “Trust you to notice.”
“I’m a man, Mallory. Of course I noticed.”
Mallory felt a jolt in the bottom of her stomach. A heart-stopping memory of his hands cupping her bare breasts in the amber glow from the fireplace at his cabin in the Gatineaus, had her face growing hot. All of a sudden, she was aware of how close they were sitting—his arm pressed into her shoulder, their thighs within a hair’s width of separation. He was looking at her with half-open eyes that seemed focused on her chin or maybe her mouth.
“Do you want another beer?” She jumped up from the sofa. “This pizza’s really spicy, don’t you think?”
In Drew’s opinion, not only the pizza was spicy. He dropped his head to the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. The left side of his body felt cool with her gone, but his mind still steamed with the impulses he’d had when she’d sat next to him.
That response was becoming a real problem for him. Since he’d come home, he’d found himself growing more and more aware of Mallory, in a completely non-sisterly way. Like just now, when her face had been so near he could count her freckles. He wondered why, in all their years of friendship, he’d never really noticed her lips before. They were a pale-apricot color, soft and inviting and utterly kissable.
Kissable. There was a danger signal if ever he’d seen one. How could he think this way about Mallory? Was it because they’d made love that one time? Or was it because she was carrying his baby?
Did men usually find stuff like that erotic?
“I’m glad you’ve been able to prolong your stay, Drew. It’s been great having you here.” Mallory was back with two fresh beer cans.
He accepted one, welcoming the cold slick feel of the aluminum in his hands, tempted to press it to his forehead to cool himself down even further.
“It’s been a nice change of pace for me, too,” he admitted. Although it still burned a little whenever he read the news from the Middle East that continued to dominate the front page of the Globe and that should be running under his byline.
Mallory put a few feet between them this time when she sat down and an emotion as thick as Weber’s chocolate milk shakes suddenly lodged in his throat.
What he’d said had been true—so far he was enjoying his time in Port Carling. Putting out the paper was more demanding than he’d expected, but he still had plenty of time to do the prep work for his weekly radio program. Driving into Toronto for recordings had turned out to be no problem.
In fact, nothing was a problem. He’d phoned the teenage boy in Ottawa who usually watched his place when he was out of town, and told him he’d be gone until after Christmas. Then he’d finished the story he’d been working on and faxed it to the Ottawa Citizen. A couple more phone calls, a bit of juggling with a colleague of his, and his schedule was clear. He’d never thought it would be that easy.
Maybe it was too easy.
After all, he had a life back in Ottawa. A downtown condo, and a cottage in the mountains he loved. He had a bustling work schedule, and a growing reputation for fearless reporting and determined interviewing. There were colleagues and friends, though none he would put in the same category as Mallory, Grady and Claire.
On the TV screen the main male character was chatting up the main female character, but Drew didn’t have a clue what was going on. He wondered if Mallory’s concentration was any better. She kept shifting positions, as though she couldn’t get comfortable.
In the old days, she might have stretched out on the couch and put her feet on his lap. Somehow he knew she wouldn’t tonight.
Things were changing between them. No matter how hard they tried to pretend they weren’t.
The first Sunday in November, Drew went to Mallory’s shop with her to help decorate for Christmas. Mallory’s carried upper-end sports clothing for women, as well as designer fashions for children from newborns to size fourteen. In addition, she stocked selected home-fashion items such as candles and picture frames.
Come Christmas, Mallory always did the store up big, with a holiday scene in the front window and fairy lights strung everywhere. He didn’t want her lugging boxes and standing on ladders, even though she seemed to think it was no big deal.
“Where do you want this holly?” he asked. He was on the top rung of her stepladder, holding the wire gingerly.
“Around the top of the doorway. In a sort of arch.” Mallory strained her head back to watch. Her hair was loosely braided down her back, but it had puffed up around her face, and a couple of strands had broken free.
Drew attached the holly with staples, trying to do it the way Mallory had instructed. She thought of everything when she decorated the store, even the scent of the place. Earlier, she'd put some kind of fragrant oil into a little holder that sat on top of the lamp on the counter. Now the place smelled like Marg’s Pastry Shop after she’d baked her traditional Christmas gingerbread men.
“What next?” He climbed down the ladder and looked up at his handiwork. The holly framed the entranceway nicely, emphasized by the string of fairy lights he’d hung earlier. Not bad at all.
“I think we’re almost done.” Mallory adjusted the hat on a teddy bear she had dressed in Victorian garb and posed by the store Christmas tree.
“Great, ’cause I’m starved. How about I run over to Marg’s and get us something to eat?”
“I’ll put the kettle on for herbal tea.”
Herbal tea again. Fortunately, Marg made a very fine take-out coffee. He would get a large cup along with some food. Marg’s shop was only a few doors down from Mallory’s, but the walk over was long enough for him to feel the nip in the air and to notice the low clouds overhead. He guessed Port Carling’s first snowfall of the season was about to start any minute.
Mallory was sitting in the love seat in the back room of the store when he returned. She had her mug of tea in her hands, and her feet were propped up on the wicker table in front of her.
He passed her a sandwich, then unwrapped his own.
“This is good,” she admitted a few minutes later. “I guess I was hungrier than I thought.”
“Me, too.” He’d devoured his roast-beef-and-cheddar sub. Now he glanced over at Mallory, his attention caught by her thickening middle. She was eighteen weeks. He’d have thought she’d be much bigger, but she said her size was normal.
“It’s because I’m tall and this is my first baby.”
He supposed that if her doctor was happy, he shouldn’t worry. What did he know about pregnancy? He trashed the remains of his lunch and was about to start on his coffee, when he realized Mallory’s face had gone still and her hand was brushing her tummy.
“What is it?”
“I just felt something move. Inside me.” She cocked her head, concentrating on the message from her body.
“Really?”
“Come.” She tapped the space beside her. “Put your hand here.”
He did, but couldn’t feel a thing beyond the warmth of her body and the soft weave of her sweater.
“Maybe I imagined it,” Mallory said after a few minutes. “It was very faint.”
Drew stroked her belly through the silky knit sweater. “What did it feel like?” He could smell her perfume, subtle and sweet. The urge to put his arm around her and pull her close, suddenly hit him.
Protective. That was what he was feeling. Natural enough, under the circumstances.
“It felt like tinsel paper blowing in a breeze.”
Drew tried to imagine something moving inside him but couldn’t “If you keep feeling things like that, I’m going to start thinking you have a baby in there.” He patted her stomach.
“That's the idea.” She turned to him. “It still doesn’t seem real to you, does it?”
“Real enough.” Seeing Mallory’s body change had done it. And not just because of her waistline. Her breasts had continued to swell over the weeks he’d been home. And more than once he’d fantasized about what they would look like naked. He just couldn't stop himself. What worried him most was that Mallory would guess what he was thinking. Even now she was eyeing him most peculiarly—
A knock at the front door had him glancing back into the store. “Expecting someone?”
“Hardly.” She shook a few crumbs off her sweater, then went to investigate. A moment later she came back with Grady.
“I saw Angie’s Explorer in front,” Grady said. “Figured you guys would be here.”
“What’s up?”
“Bess was out so I went in to work on an antique boat for a customer of mine—floorboards are completely rotted. Then I decided I needed a break. Would you like to go for a coffee or something?”
“Drew just had one,” Mallory said. “I could make you some tea, though. The water just boiled.”
“Sure.” Grady paced the distance from the microwave to the sink. “Place looks good. All ready for Christmas, then?”
“You bet.” Mallory plugged in the kettle. “What’s wrong, Grady? You seem ready to spit nails.”
“Ah. It’s my boys.” He picked a mug out of the cupboard, then grabbed a tea bag from a canister near the sink.
Drew couldn’t help but think how at home Grady appeared here. Well, why not? He had been friends with Mallory as long as Drew had. And he hadn't spent the past ten years living in a different city.
“What have Warren and Taylor been up to now?”
“It’s pretty serious this time.” Grady’s light-blue eyes traveled from one friend to the next “They took my Jeep last night.”
“But they’re only fifteen. They can’t have their driver’s licenses yet,” Drew pointed out.
“You’ve got that right.”
Mallory poured boiling water into Grady’s mug, her gaze flickering anxiously from Drew to Grady.
“Bess and I drove over to Bracebridge in her car to visit friends yesterday evening. We came home earlier than expected because—because Bess wasn’t feeling that great. When we pulled into the garage, the Jeep was missing. And the boys were nowhere to be found.”
“What did you do?”
Grady sat, bowing his head. “Didn’t know what to do. They weren’t answering their cell phones. Phone the police on my own boys? Maybe I should have. Bess wanted me to. But the kids showed up fifteen minutes later.”
“Any damage?”
“Nope. Thank goodness. Anyway, the boys are grounded until Christmas, though I don’t know that it'll do any good. Neither one has spoken a word to me or their mother.”
“I don’t get it. I realize I haven’t spent much time with them lately, but Warren and Taylor are good kids. Wasn’t it two summers ago that we took them backpacking for a weekend? They were such troupers, not a word of complaint.”
“Yeah, Drew. They were thirteen then. The past couple of years have made a big difference. Plus a new kid moved into town last year, and he’d been a bad influence. He’s a year older than the twins, and I’ve heard he smokes and drinks. The boys claim they're not doing any of that. I can only hope they’re telling the truth.”
“Jeez, Grady. Is there anything we can do?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Grady eyed at him frankly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d try talking to them. Maybe, since you’re not their old man, they’d listen to you. They’ve always looked up to you.”
Drew crossed his arms. “Are you sure you’re asking the right person? You and I did some pretty wild things when we were that age, as I recall.”
“Maybe. But we never stole anything.”
He had a point there. “Well, I can give it a shot. But I don’t have much experience with kids.” He glanced at Mallory, and could tell she was thinking the same thing he was. Yet Once Grady had finished his tea and left, Mallory started to pull on her coat, brown suede with a thick pile lining. “Will you drop me home before you go talk to Warren and Taylor?”
“Of course. But wait one minute.”
He’d put a hand on her arm, and she peered at it for a moment before turning her gaze to his. “What’s up?”
“I got word this morning that another cottage was broken into last night Not five miles from the last one. What do you think?”
She was quiet for a few seconds. “Do you think the boys might have had something to do with it?”
“I don’t know. I hope not.”
Still, it was quite a coincidence.