Misconception Read online

  Misconception

  By Christy Hayes

  Smashwords Edition

  Text Copyright © Christy Hayes

  All Rights Reserved

  The characters portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced by any means without the prior written consent of the author.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for you, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 1

  “I’m sorry,” Pace said into the receiver. “I didn’t hear you.” The boys ran through the house, chasing their chocolate lab puppy, Cooper, screaming at the top of their lungs with a dog toy chirping in each of their hands. They passed through the kitchen and up the stairs, where, coincidentally, Cooper wasn’t allowed to go. “It’s mass chaos here. For a second I thought you said I was pregnant.”

  A pause on the other end of the line, just a slight hesitation, told Pace she’d heard right. “I did say you’re pregnant, Mrs. Kelly. Just got the labs back this morning.”

  The noise disappeared, as if it had been swallowed into a vacuum and the only sound was the buzzing in her head. “Wait…” she struggled to get the power of speech back. “That can’t be right. My husband’s had a vasectomy.”

  “I’ve seen it happen before. You two didn’t follow the doctor’s orders and use condoms until they could test and make sure it worked.”

  “My husband had a vasectomy three years ago.”

  The silence on the other end of the line wasn’t just a hesitation. No, it seemed more like a cavern of deep contemplation. “Oh…”

  “Listen, there has to be some kind of mistake. I know I haven’t been feeling quite right, but I’m not pregnant.” Pace didn’t know who she was trying to convince. She’d been tired, listless, occasionally nauseous, and her periods were all over the board, but pregnant? “Those tests aren’t a hundred percent accurate, right?”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelly. I’m looking at the blood test results. Your file indicates you aren’t taking any medications. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, I mean, no...I mean, I’m not on any medication other than multivitamins.”

  “Then there’s no doubt about it,” she said. “You’re pregnant.”

  When the phone call ended, Pace still had the phone dangling from her frozen fingers as Jason rushed into the kitchen, talking a mile a minute into the ear piece that since his latest “big deal” had started, seemed permanently attached to his head.

  “Jason?” He swallowed the dregs from one of the kid’s orange juice glasses still on the table and shoved an uneaten bagel half into his mouth. He raised his eyes to heaven and with his free hand pointed to the earpiece, as if she didn’t know he wasn’t talking to her about the glazing ratio of the atrium glass. “I need to talk to you.” He kissed her cheek and headed for the garage.

  “I’ll call you from the car,” he whispered.

  She’d come to think of his out-of-town meetings as his weekly escape. This deal, some skyscraper in Chicago that caused him to pop Tums like candy, had him out of town at least three days a week for the last two months and the boys pushing the limits of her patience.

  As if she’d summoned them, Dillon and Mitchell rushed back through the kitchen, puppy in hot pursuit, in their habitual loop around the main floor—kitchen, dining room, den; kitchen, dining room, den—just as she sank into a kitchen chair. Mitchell dragged his disgusting old blanket and Dillon still wore his pajama pants. She eyed the clock. Eight-eleven and the bus arrived at the corner at eight-twenty.

  “Did you guys brush your teeth?”

  Her perpetual question always received the same answer. “I forgot.”

  They both headed back upstairs with orders to finish getting dressed as Pace lassoed the puppy and shoved his getting-bigger-by-the-day body out the back door. He needed to run off some energy chasing the remaining squirrels that hadn’t come to grips with the fact that he was there to stay.

  Pregnant? Pace felt as if she’d been knocked over the head with a two-by-four. She leaned against the counter and laid a hand on her stomach as the boys conducted what sounded like an aerobics class above her head. Her body didn’t feel any different than it did ten minutes ago. How in the world could she be pregnant? She and Jason hadn’t even had sex that much lately.

  “Let’s go guys,” she shouted up the stairs. “I’m not driving you to school today.” But when she turned and saw the bus pass in front of the house, she knew she would, in fact, be driving them to school. Not that missing the bus never happened; she knew they loved her driving them in as much as she loved their few minutes alone in the car, but the mayhem she embraced everyday with a heartfelt smile seemed like the straw that would break her back on the heels of the nurse’s bombshell.

  It took twenty minutes to find Mitchell’s missing shoe and to re-make Dillon’s sandwich. “Tommy Butler is allergic to peanut butter,” he explained as she searched the junk drawer for her keys. “Mrs. Finegold keeps throwing my sandwich away.”

  Pace quit rummaging around and slammed the drawer shut. No more peanut butter and jelly? Why didn’t they just stick a knife in her back? What in the world would her picky son eat for lunch? “Dillon, why didn’t you tell me about the no-peanut-butter policy? And how can your teacher just throw your sandwich away when she hasn’t notified the parents about the new rule?”

  As Pace grumbled under her breath and considered calling the principal to complain about the teacher, Dillon began frantically fishing through his backpack. If his teacher could see her now, the lightweight everyone considered a pushover—throwing bread on the counter, drumming her fingers on the open refrigerator door as she surveyed its contents, trying to figure out what Dillon would possibly deem worthy of his discriminating palate, slamming mayonnaise and cheese on the counter—she wouldn’t be so quick to label her a nice, easygoing parent, someone whose son everybody wanted in their class. Pace knew everyone thought she was too nice, too proper to make waves. Little did they know her life had just been turned upside down. Dillon interrupted her frantic attempt to make an acceptable sandwich, a sandwich he’d probably throw away because he wouldn’t eat it, and handed her a crumbled note. “Mrs. Finegold told us to have you sign this. I forgot.”

  No wonder he’d been ravenous when he came home. She’d stupidly attributed his hunger to a growth spurt. Dillon brooded the whole way to school about the turkey and cheese sandwich she made even after Pace had filled it with potato chips like they sometimes did a
t home. Mitchell kept tugging off the sock cap she insisted he wear in the rare Atlanta cold snap. “But it itches,” he whined as they idled in the carpool line.

  An hour later, the boys safely delivered to Parkside elementary school and the dog asleep in his bed in the corner of the den, Pace checked the phone. No calls, no messages. Darn it, Jason. Call. The whole ride to school and back she’d thought of nothing but the nurse’s announcement. Hadn’t everyone heard the story about the woman who, after her husband got a vasectomy, had a tummy tuck and then found out she was pregnant? She’d thought that was an urban legend, like being able to tell the sex of a baby by peeing into Drano.

  She and Jason had agonized over whether to have more children years ago after watching two parents juggle more kids than adults at sporting events and school activities. They’d made their decision official three years ago with a thirty-minute outpatient procedure and a recovery weekend of March Madness and rotating bags of frozen peas. And now—when the kids were both finally in school and Jason was stressed to the breaking point with this deal and his boss—now she got pregnant? They’d sold every scrap of baby stuff they had lurking in the basement at the neighborhood garage sale last summer and she’d just started laying the groundwork for a home-based business. Despite the appealing chance to experience it all again—the first smile, the first steps, the first word—she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that all of her plans had gone ‘poof’ with one thirty-second phone call.

  After trying Jason and getting his voicemail, Pace headed upstairs to make the bed and had to stop at the top to catch her breath. Her lack of endurance and shortness of breath, two of the symptoms that had led her to the doctor in the first place, now made sense knowing she was pregnant. So much about how she’d been feeling became clear even as her future went dim and out of focus.

  She eyed the phone on the bedside table and knew Jason wouldn’t answer the phone if he was still talking to his boss, Tarks, or one of his clients. He longed to start his own firm and a big part of her wished he would go ahead and do it so he’d stop complaining about his job all the time. Whenever he started one of his diatribes about Tarks, Pace had to bite her tongue to keep from telling him to go ahead and quit after they’d practically broken their backs for the last ten years paying off his student loans because he was too stubborn to borrow money from her parents. They’d finally managed to stash a little money into savings and start a college fund for the boys and she’d hoped to have a better buffer in place before he risked his steady income. She glanced at the phone on her nightstand and willed it to ring as she piled throw pillows on top of the comforter.

  After picking up the boys’ dirty clothes from the floor and turning off every light blazing away in their rooms, she went back downstairs, looked at the mantle clock in the den, and realized Jason had probably already taken off. She was about to go crazy keeping the news to herself, but felt a little relieved at the delay. Pace knew her husband would freak when she told him the news because, as much as they both wanted him to, he’d never be able to leave the security of his job with another baby on the way.

  * * *

  The whole way to the airport, Tarks wouldn’t quit nagging Jason about the atrium design. Yes, the man was a world-renowned architect, yes, his reputation was beyond reproach, and yes, he’d taken Jason under his wing. But working so closely with him, as much of an honor as it should have been, had become Jason’s number one reason to get out on his own.

  As he did during most of his quiet moments, he thought of the future on the flight to Chicago. In just a few weeks, his back and forth travel would slow down and he could relax, enjoy the holidays, and start making concrete plans for his own firm. He dreaded announcing his departure and the hit to his bank account wouldn’t be easy to stomach, but the call he planned to make when he got home would help ease the sting.

  After mulling it over for weeks, he’d decided to accept the offer on his grandfather’s land. The farm had been sitting empty for years, a sentimental investment that could finally be put to good use. The bid hadn’t even come close to their asking price, but he had to be realistic about what a hundred and twenty-five acres of South Georgia farmland would fetch in a down economy. If the buyer accepted his counter, the deal could close in sixty days and he could have his new firm up and running by spring. Just the thought of starting his own firm and proving everyone wrong who thought he’d married Pace for her money had him smiling as he returned his seatback to the upright position in preparation for landing.

  Pace. Damn, he’d told her he’d call from the car. She seemed weird when he left, staring at him as if she couldn’t believe he had to run out the door to catch his flight. He knew she hated the travel as much as he did, but she couldn’t understand the pressure he was under. And the boys. They’d barely even stopped chasing the dog long enough to kiss him goodbye. He even caught them high-fiving in the hallway when they saw his suitcase and knew mom would order pizza for dinner. Nice to know they’d throw him under the bus for a slice of pepperoni. His hectic schedule wouldn’t get any easier when he started his own firm, but at least he’d be able to pick and choose his clients and try to keep the travel to a minimum.

  As soon as the wheels touched the ground, Jason dug his phone out of his briefcase and called home. The answering machine picked up after four rings. “Pace, honey, I’m sorry I didn’t call sooner. I just landed and I’ll be free to talk for the next half-hour if you get a chance to call. Love you, babe.”

  His phone rang just as he got into the cab for the ride to the hotel. “The Hilton on Michigan,” he told the driver before saying hello to Pace. She sounded funny, although he could hardly hear through the jumble of talk radio the driver blared at top volume.

  “I’m in the cab,” he explained when she asked where he was. “Sorry about this morning. I’m hoping to wrap this up as soon as possible and get back home by Wednesday.”

  “Jason,” she cut him off. “The nurse from Dr. Hidel’s office called this morning. You’re not going to believe this. She said I’m pregnant.”

  He knocked on the plastic partition between the front and back seat and asked the driver to turn the radio down. The cabbie lifted his hand in acknowledgment, but Jason didn’t register a change in the volume. Perhaps it was because his ears were ringing. “What?”

  “The nurse from Dr. Hidel’s office said I’m pregnant.”

  Cars swooped around the cab, their exhaust like small puffs of smoke from an old man’s cigar. The sky, gunmetal gray, promised showers later in the day. The driver nodded his head to whatever the commentator had just said. Everything seemed so normal, everything but what his wife had just told him.

  “Pace…are you kidding?”

  “No, Jason, I’m not kidding.” His perpetually happy wife, his little Tinker Bell, sounded annoyed. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the idea of another baby, but her attitude came across loud and clear. “What do you think I do all day? Sit around and think of ways to throw you off stride?”

  “Okay, okay, I’m just…” he swiped a clammy hand over his face, “…thrown off stride. I don’t understand.”

  “Neither do I, but she said there’s no mistake. I’m sorry to spring this on you when you’re out of town, but I tried to talk to you this morning.”

  “Jesus.” Of all the things he thought she’d be upset about, his leaving in such a rush, his falling asleep on the couch last night—again-, a problem with the boys, he never thought he’d hear those words come out of her mouth. No wonder she’d acted weird. “Well…” Shit, shit, shit. “What do we do?”

  “The nurse said they don’t want to see me back until two weeks from now, but she suggested getting you checked out. Something obviously failed in terms of the vasectomy.”

  “Ya think?” The cold from the cracked window seemed to have made its way to his bones and he pushed the button to close it. He blew out a big breath and tried to think as all his plans went up in smoke. Another responsibili
ty was the absolute last thing he needed right now. “Okay, so I guess we’re having another baby.” He rubbed the pinpoint headache from his temple. “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice sounded tiny and very far away. HHe imagined her tapping away on something, the counter, her coffee mug, the wall. She tapped her fingers when she was nervous or upset. “Anxious and more than a little confused. How do you feel?”

  About six feet under and wishing she’d gotten her tubes tied like he’d asked her to, but admitting his annoyance wouldn’t do any good right now. He wondered, for a fleeting second, if his father had felt this way when he’d heard the news of his unexpected arrival. “The same, I guess.” The cabbie hit the brakes with such force that the phone nearly slipped from his grasp. He fumbled for the seat belt he hadn’t bothered to put on. “Pace, I can’t deal with this right now.” He couldn’t fit the belt into the latch practically buried in the crevice of the seat despite repeated attempts. It could have been that his hands were shaking. “I’ve got to go before the cab driver kills me. Let me get through this meeting and I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

  On the other end he heard her sigh with frustration. She didn’t answer when he told her goodbye.

  Jason looked out the window as the taxi exited the interstate and darted through the streets of Chicago. People passed on the sidewalks, bundled from head to toe with their heads ducked against the strong wind, going about their lives as if nothing had changed from the day before. For a moment he forgot where he was or why he was there. Pregnant? What the hell? The cab came to an abrupt halt in front of the Hilton. The valet opened his door and ushered him out into the chilly morning air. He could see the valet’s breath as he spoke, but didn’t hear a damn word he said. He paid the cab driver and watched him pull away with his briefcase and presentation tucked into the backseat where he’d left them.

  Chapter 2