Paradise Valley

“Yeah, well, it was beyond my control,” Cameron said. “Believe me.”

“Everything all right?”

“Dandy,” he said. He lifted his drink. “Swell.”

Cameron hadn’t even sipped his drink when Paul walked in. He sat next to Cam and put his elbows on the bar. “What you got there?” he asked Cameron.

“Scotch.”

“Gimme a Crown. Same recipe,” Paul said to Jack.

Jack got down a glass and poured. “I could’ve sworn you had plans for the evening,” he said to Paul.

“I thought so,” he said. He lifted his glass and took a drink. “But then Abby came home, having some kind of emotional crisis, and Vanni got all hooked up in that.” Paul glared briefly at Cameron. “Lots of crying. Carrying on.”

Cameron turned toward him. “I did not do anything to bring that on,” he said rather harshly. “I was completely courteous. Thoughtful. I was wonderful.”

“I know that,” Paul said. “I gather she brought it on herself. She said she lost her temper. Said some rude things. Mean things.” He sipped. “You’re gonna have to let it go, man. Cut her some slack. For being pregnant and out of her mind. You know?”

Jack was leaning on the bar, listening closely to this conversation that was, thankfully, not overheard by other dinner customers. Only Paul and Cameron were at the bar.

“I handled it the best way I could,” Cameron said.

“She said she feels like she has to do everything—having the babies and everything—and feels like she has no control.”

“She has no control?” Cameron asked hotly. Then he laughed bitterly.

“Yeah, well, she’s feeling real bad about it now.”

“Is that so?” Cameron said. “Well, guess what? I feel real bad about what she said, too.” Then he looked back into his drink and sulked.

“Come on,” Jack said. “What the hell could she have said?”

Cameron looked up from his drink. “She called me an unkind name.”

Jack laughed at him. “Well, you’re a big boy. What could a little pregnant girl call you that would get you so riled up?”

“Never mind. It’s over.”

“How about—sperm donor,” Paul supplied.

Cameron shot Paul an angry look. “Way to go, dipshit. Anybody ever tell you you have a big mouth?”

“When Vanni said not to tell, I didn’t think she meant you. I mean, you know. Right?”

Cameron glanced at Jack.

“Don’t worry about Jack,” Paul said. “He doesn’t talk. Well, he does, but when he has specific orders not to, he can manage to keep his mouth shut.”

Then Jack, caution drawing every word, said, “Now, why in the world would she say something like that to you?”

“I can’t imagine,” Cameron said, pouting.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better about things, Vanessa called me a dimwit for asking just about the same question.” He took a drink. “Apparently we have ourselves a situation. Dad.”

“Whoa,” Jack said, straightening up. He reached for another glass and tipped the bottle over it. Jack usually waited until closing to partake, but it seemed appropriate to commiserate with these two. “Was everything all right with the ultrasound?” he asked warily.

“Fine,” Cameron said, sipping. “Babies look great.”

“And at least one’s a boy,” Paul said, picking up his drink. After a swallow he found Cameron glaring at him again. “What? I wasn’t told not to tell that.”

“You are a dimwit,” Cameron patiently pointed out.

“Yeah? Well, I’m a dimwit who was going to get lucky once the baby was tucked in, until you got Abby all upset and crying and—” He stopped suddenly. He shook his head dismally.

“Gentlemen, I propose a toast,” Jack said, lifting his glass. “Let’s drink to silence. If this conversation ever leaves this bar, we’re all going to die. Skinless.”

“Silence,” the other men agreed.

“All right,” Jack said, “since there’s a pact of silence, I just want to know when this could have happened. How this could have happened.”

Cameron put down his glass. “The weekend of Joe Benson’s wedding in Grants Pass. And, in the usual way.”

“You weren’t at that wedding,” Paul pointed out.

“I had dinner at the hotel restaurant that night. I met her in the bar. Now, that’s all I’m saying about it. And if you let on to Abby that I said that much, my situation is only going to get more impossible. You follow me here, Paul?”

“Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it?”

“Well,” he said, looking over each shoulder to make sure they weren’t being overheard, then leaning close to whisper. Jack, of course, leaned down to not miss a word. “She’s pregnant. You’re the father. Anything come to mind there, bud? Like maybe marriage?”

Cameron put down his drink impatiently. “Pay attention, Paul. I couldn’t even get her to go to Fortuna to eat at a restaurant with me. She hates me. I was a perfect gentleman, back then and tonight, but she hates me. She called me a sperm donor.”

“Whew,” Paul said.

“Whew,” said Jack.

All three men lifted their glasses in misery.

Vanessa put water for tea on the stove for Abby and while it heated she put little Matt down in his bed with his bottle. When she got back to the kitchen, Abby was blowing her nose, wiping her eyes. While Vanni let the tea steep, she put some leftover roast beef, potatoes and carrots on a plate and warmed it in the microwave. She put the tea in front of her friend and left the dinner in the microwave. Vanni pulled herself a beer out of the refrigerator and sat down opposite Abby. “Done crying yet?” she asked.

Abby nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Well, I do. My emotions were so crazy when I was pregnant, I don’t know how anyone could stand to be around me. I was a complete wreck.”

“I should be so ashamed,” Abby said with a sniff. “You had it so much worse.”