A high-pitched whistling noise suddenly sounded on the line and she screwed up her face, waiting for it to end. “Tom?” She raised her voice and shook her phone. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here and...” His words dissolved as crackling took over the line. “When did this happen? How did it happen?”
“I don’t know exactly when. I only found out yesterday. I fainted and did a pregnancy test.” A blush rose to her cheeks. “I think we both know how it happened.”
“We’ve always been careful. You said you were being careful,” Tom said, stumbling over his words. “I didn’t expect this... I mean, we’re in our forties.”
“That’s not ancient.” Carla’s face pinkened, this time with annoyance. “It’s something we’re both responsible for. Having children at our age isn’t uncommon.”
“I can’t believe this has happened.”
“It was a shock for me, too. Now that I’ve come to terms with it, I feel kind of...excited.”
“You do?” he exclaimed, an edge to his voice. “You’ve changed your mind?”
“Changed my mind from what?”
“When I joined Logical Love, I answered all the questions and stated I didn’t want children. I’ve never wanted them and presumed I’d match with someone who didn’t want them, either.”
The tips of Carla’s ears began to burn. With regard to children, she’d ticked the “open to discussion” box. That meant she and Tom should have never matched. The glitch in the database must have altered their outcome.
“Didn’t you put the same thing?” he prompted.
“I’ve never ruled out having kids. It’s something we’ve never really discussed.”
“We didn’t need to. That’s why people join your agency, because it gets these kinds of conversations out of the way, up front, so couples can be sure their priorities and life decisions coordinate before they meet. Or else, why would they use the service? Why would you and I have used it?”
Carla felt like she was sinking down to the bottom of a deep lake with weights around her ankles. The database problem now looked more critical than ever. Tom had reminded her she’d personally created a system with the potential to turn marriages into ticking time bombs.
She and Tom had selected each other based on a series of questions and algorithms that were skewed. Perhaps they had leapfrogged a huge chunk of their relationship, relying on checkboxes and multiple-choice answers instead. Had they missed out on getting to know each other more intimately through late-night chats fueled by wine because everything between them had already been determined, listed, checked and approved?
Carla took a deep breath before responding. “There were several glitches in the system around the time we matched, and Jess has been investigating them. We’re still the perfect team,” she tried to reassure him, but her insistence sounded hollow.
She heard Tom speak briefly to someone else. “Look, sorry, Carla, I have to go,” he said. “The others have arrived, and my head is reeling. I’ll have to call you back later, okay?”
“When?”
“I’m not sure. We’re heading off, straight after this meeting, for a few days to visit a factory that produces board games. I don’t know what my schedule will be and when I can next get back in touch. I need time to think about everything. You’re telling me that technically we shouldn’t be together—”
“We’re going to be parents,” Carla interrupted, her heart racing. “That surpasses everything. We know how we feel about each other...” She let her words peter out, knowing her efforts were futile, at least for now. In time, she hoped Tom would be as delighted and excited as she was, because his current response made it feel like a pebble was lodged in her throat. If he didn’t want the baby—and if he didn’t want her—it would prove Myrtle had been right all along. The family curse would win. Again.
But there was nothing she could do or say right now. Tom had to make up his own mind, and she had to let fate take its own path, for once.
Carla said goodbye to him, hung up and then defiantly tied her hair into a ponytail.
Looking down at the gentle dome of her belly, she spoke to it, just as she’d done with Jess. “Hello, you,” she whispered. “I know things are a bit messy right now, but don’t worry, because we’ll figure everything out. You’ve already traveled with me to Spain, Portugal and Amsterdam, so I think you’re a tough little thing. Though I must warn you, our family isn’t exactly ‘normal.’ They’ll probably shower you with four-leaf clovers and hope you’re born under a full moon, but they’ll also love you more than anything, just like I will. Just like your father will, too.” She closed her eyes, hoping, praying. “Whatever happens, we’ll be fine. I promise.”
As she left her bedroom to go find Babs again, Carla realized she’d crossed her fingers so tightly her knuckles had turned white.
Twenty-One
Window
Carla sat at the kitchen table with Babs the next day, resting her chin glumly on her fist. Everything she knew and loved seemed to be breaking apart and floating around her, out of her reach. Her midriff felt taut, and her emotions were tidal. One moment, she felt so full of energy she could run a marathon, and the next, she had the motivation of a dishcloth. It was difficult to tell if her lethargy was due to the heat in Spain, hormonal changes or from Tom’s lackluster reaction to her pregnancy news. She felt like her family curse was hitting home, and questions about their suitability only continued to abound. Her voice shook when she asked Babs, “What if Tom doesn’t want to get married any longer?”
Babs sat painting her nails lilac. “You can’t force that decision and you’ve thrown the guy a curveball. He’ll need time to let things sink in,” she said.
“Tom told me he’s never wanted children and he sounded so resolute about it, like there was no way he’ll change his mind.”
“He might adapt. I’ve always wanted kids, but I had to accept it wasn’t going to happen. It sounds like Tom’s experiencing my circumstances in reverse.”
Babs’s reasoning didn’t do much to stop Carla’s upset from morphing into anger throughout the day. She stomped around the farmhouse, drinking water to prevent another fainting spell, and ate the fresh food Diego had stocked in the fridge.
Babs spent a couple of hours on her phone before reporting back to Carla that she was going to return to Blanca del Mar, where she could keep an eye on the renovation work starting on her bar. A friend had returned from holiday and Babs was going to stay with her for a while. “It’s too remote for me here, but I’ll stay as long as you want to,” she added. “Have you decided where you’re going to next?”
Carla shook her head. She didn’t want to keep checking her phone for calls or messages from Tom, but the screen was like a magnet to her.
“Do you want me to hide it from you?” Babs reached out her hand to take it.
Carla clutched the device to her chest and shook her head, feeling like a toddler about to have her favorite toy removed.
“You need to relax and forget about Tom for a while. Do something to keep busy.”
It was easier said than done, and Carla jumped to attention when her phone vibrated in her hands. She caught her breath and prepared herself to see her fiancé’s name on the screen, but it was Jess’s instead. Her spirits plunged and she carried the phone to her room, positioning it on the dressing table while she sat on the bed.
“Gran thinks we should both grow up and make amends,” her sister said gruffly on Facetime. Her lips were thin and tight, as if she had no choice in the matter.
“She’s probably right,” Carla admitted. “Where is she?”
