What's Left Behind by Lorrie Thomson Page B

the doll cried until Luke changed its wet diaper or gave it a bottle?”
    Abby pictured Luke carrying a real baby, his baby, a smooth round cheek resting on Luke’s shoulder. She lifted the apple juice from the table. The enormity of what Luke had lost—his whole beautiful life—made her want to smash the glass against the wall. Slowly, carefully, she set the glass down.
    Tessa shrugged. She clasped hands on her thighs, making herself look like a shy schoolgirl, if you could ignore the pregnant belly backdrop.
    At least when Abby was expecting Luke, she hadn’t been known as that pregnant freshman girl. No, she’d been that pregnant girlfriend from home who called and talked to Charlie’s roommate every Friday night while Charlie was out partying.
    And then she’d stopped calling.
    An ache pressed her temples. Rob took her hand, as if they were in this together, whatever this was. Tessa had waited months to let her know of the pregnancy. Why hadn’t Tessa simply called to tell Abby she was carrying Luke’s baby? “Only two other boys took the class with Luke. When Luke figured out they were only there to meet girls . . .” Not that Luke’s motives had been any more pure. “When the boys didn’t take too well to twenty-four/seven child care, Luke charged them for doll sitting. He did pretty well for himself at ten dollars an hour. Kind of cornered the market.”
    Rob squeezed Abby’s hand. “An entrepreneur, like his mother.”
    Tessa let out a laugh and a hiccup, and she covered her mouth. “That sounds like Luke.”
    Good. Abby had set Tessa at ease. Took guts to drive herself from Massachusetts to Maine, no clue what kind of reception she’d receive. Act first, think second, if at all. Unfortunately, she could well imagine Luke doing something similarly impulsive. Tessa probably hadn’t anticipated the fainting. That made three of them.
    Tessa’s fingers unclasped and jittered in her lap.
    “Do your parents know you’re here?” Abby asked.
    Tessa hiccupped again.
    “Let me get you some water.” Abby stood up. Brown dots played before her eyes and she sat back down.
    Rob shook his head at Abby and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll get the water. You, stay.”
    “Woof,” Abby told Rob, and Tessa giggled. Rob walked from the room. Abby’s gaze zoned in on the back of his jeans, the angle of his hips.
    The sensation of being watched turned her to Tessa. “Your parents?” Abby asked.
    “My father knows.” Tessa’s gaze scurried to the ceiling.
    Abby had seen that expression before on her son’s face, the squirm of a half-truth. “Really?”
    “Uh, well, he will when I phone to tell him.”
    Thought so. “And your mother?”
    Tessa sucked her lips into her mouth. “She’s . . . she’s out of the country.” Her expression turned numb with a tinge of defiance around her eyes.
    Was her mother also out of Tessa’s life?
    “Does she know about the baby?” Abby asked.
    Tessa shook her head, and her eyes misted.
    Abby took a slow, deep breath. How horrible for Tessa’s mother not to know about the existence of her own grandchild.
    How horrible for Abby not to have known. Until Tessa had, on impulse, landed on her doorstep.
    Abby drew her hands to her chest, one overlapping the other. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
    “I don’t know.” Even though Tessa’s gaze did not scurry and retreat from Abby’s, Tessa sat up taller. She shifted into a subtle defensive stance. And Abby still didn’t believe her.
    Rob returned with a glass of ice water and handed it to Tessa. “There you go.” He sat next to Abby, and the sides of their knees bumped.
    “Thanks.” Tessa hiccupped and gulped down the water, as if she hadn’t had anything to drink in hours. Did she know the dangers of dehydration? As soon as Abby had discovered she was pregnant, she’d worried about the baby’s health. She hadn’t realized how much harder it would be after Luke was born.
    Between middle school and