What's Left Behind by Lorrie Thomson Page A

Luke fathering beautiful children. Towheaded boys with ruddy cheeks, quick smiles, and a weakness for Abby’s oatmeal raisin cookies. Blue-eyed girls who were equally at home digging in the sand or standing on a stool before Abby’s kitchen counter. She already loved them. She’d told Luke as much. But in her fantasies, she imagined the pitter-patter of Luke-related little feet years and years in the future. Not while her baby was still a teenager. Definitely not after Luke had died.
    Abby filled her cheeks with air and blew out a breath. Charlie called her habit, Abby’s little blowfish. She called it, releasing excess stress. Or attempting to do so.
    How could Abby spring this shock on Charlie? Or Lily Beth, for that matter? Charlie still needed to call her most every day. And Abby knew Lily Beth had been middle-of-the-night widow walking since Luke’s death. Lily Beth would admit to nothing, but the dark circles under her mother’s eyes told the tale.
    Abby tested the steadiness of the floor, found it lacking. “She should’ve warned me,” Abby said, imagining how Lily Beth might’ve reacted if Abby had announced her pregnancy six months after the fact, instead of days after she’d known. In front of Abby, Lily Beth had called her pregnancy a blessing. But late at night, the muffled sound of Lily Beth’s behind-closed-doors tears had spoken of something darker.
    Yet, Tessa’s pregnancy was a blessing. A miracle that had knocked Abby off her feet.
    “Five hours,” Abby said. “Why didn’t she call first? What if I wasn’t even home?” Irresponsible behavior got you pregnant, but then you had to grow up and smarten up for the sake of the baby. Abby’s pulse throbbed against her eardrums, and she ordered it to slow down.
    “She’s . . . ?” Rob said.
    “Luke’s girlfriend,” Abby whispered.
    “Thought so.”
    Tessa came out from the restroom, her hairline wet, as though she’d splashed water on her face.
    “Did he know?” Abby asked.
    Tessa met Abby’s gaze. She squinted across the room. Her lips opened and rounded, as though translating he to Luke . Her brow relaxed, and she shook her head.
    If Luke had known, he’d have called Abby right away, and they’d have talked it out. They always talked things out. But to what end? She wouldn’t have wanted Luke to drop out of school. He’d worked hard to get there.
    Yet, that’s exactly what she’d expected of Charlie.
    She’d also expected Charlie to marry her, but only because he’d asked her years before the pregnancy. This situation was different. Luke hadn’t been ready for that kind of commitment.
    While in high school, he’d never dated a girl more than a few months before the outgoing calls would cease and the incoming calls would commence. Tearful pleas for Luke to call back, because he was the love of her life. She couldn’t live without him. Oh, the unnecessary drama.
    Yet, that wasn’t fair, because what each girl felt was real. “What did I do?” Luke would ask Abby after the latest rash of calls.
    “You made her fall in love with you,” she’d tell him.
    And then he’d lose interest.
    “Luke was good with kids. Did you know that?” Abby asked.
    “Drink some more juice,” Rob said.
    I’m okay, Abby mouthed. He nodded, but his hand slid to the small of her back and stayed.
    Tessa sat down on the wing chair beside Abby, a two-step process. Lower to cushion, shift to relative comfort.
    “He used to babysit for my friend Celeste. He was the only male sitter she’d allow. Her kids loved him.” Luke would help them build couch cushion forts in the living room, igloos in the yard. He’d make cocoa they claimed they liked even better than their mother’s homemade hot chocolate. Celeste was wise to ignore the empty packets of Swiss Miss in her trash.
    “He never mentioned babysitting.”
    “No? He took an early childhood ed class in tenth grade. The one where he had to carry a baby doll around with him in a Snugli? And