Chapter 2

These past two years, Clay had brought up wanting a daughter more and more often.

And the number of times hot sauce showed up in front of me.

kept pace right along with it.

My morning sandwich had to be dipped in hot sauce.

My salad at lunch got peppers in it too.

Even my low-cal dinner, Clay said, wasn't worth eating without heat.

I hated it, and one day I said, frowning,

"Clay, if I keep eating this I'm going to throw up. Can we drop the peppers?"

He just gave me that doting look.

"Come on, sweetheart, this is all so we can meet our little princess sooner."

"The old folks say it works. Sour cravings mean a boy, spicy means a girl."

"Keep at it a while, and who knows, maybe one day we really will have a daughter."

People who saw us like this would sigh with envy.

"Theresa, you really found yourself a good husband."

"They always say a small-town guy who's made good tends to want sons over daughters,"

"but yours doesn't have that ugly habit at all. He actually wants a girl."

Back then I thought he was being silly.

A grown man, believing in folk remedies like that.

But I wanted a daughter too, so even though I don't like spicy food, I went along with it eagerly.

I wouldn't touch anything sour, ate only sweet fruit.

But looking back now.

I was the fool. Completely.

When I handed all the hot sauce over to the driver, his face went slack with shock.

"Ma'am, all of this is for me?"

"Take it. If you can't finish it, throw it out, that's fine too."

The driver thanked me over and over, but by then I had nothing left, and I sank onto the couch.

After I got in touch with the realtor through my best friend,

I called the hospital and booked the abortion.

By the time it was all done, my stomach had started to ache with hunger, and I realized it was already afternoon.

I was just about to head to the kitchen for something to eat.

When someone called out behind me.

"Theresa!"

Clay pushed the door open and came in, then turned to say over his shoulder,

"Come on in. Say hi to Theresa."

I followed his gaze.

And it cut into me on the spot.

Coming in behind him were Clay's ex-wife, Mary Fletcher, and their son, Oscar Henson.

They had bags and suitcases in their hands.

I froze. "What is this?"

Clay explained, wearing a pained expression.

"Reese, I know Mary and I are divorced, but her situation right now is a little unusual."

"Everything she'd saved got swindled out of her."

"She wants to come to Bayport for work, and she's got nowhere to stay yet. She needs me to help her find something."

"She's got the kid with her, too, which makes it hard. Let them stay at our place for now, okay?"

I actually laughed from the anger.

"Clay, do you still remember whose house this is?"

He frowned.

"Of course I know it's yours. But Reese, aren't we husband and wife?"

I turned to look at Mary.

She stood there awkwardly, holding Oscar's hand.

"I don't know if we'd be in your way."

I said coldly,

"I don't like strangers moving into my home."

But Clay's face went cold at me.

"Strangers? What strangers?"

"One of them is my ex-wife, the other is my son."

"We may be divorced, but the family feeling is still there."

"You're my wife now. Can you not be so petty?"

What a fine piece of moral blackmail.

I didn't give an inch.

"If she moves in, then I move out."

I stared into Clay's eyes and said coldly,

"You figure it out."

Clay stared at me for a long moment, and in the end he backed down.

"You're impossible."

He snatched the suitcase out of Mary's hand and pushed past me up the stairs.

"Come up with me."

Mary glanced back at me timidly.

"Clay, your wife seems upset. Isn't this a bit much?"

"She's a spoiled rich girl with a temper. I'll smooth her over later. Don't worry about it."

Clay scooped Oscar up. "Is Daddy's new house big? You like living here?"

Oscar nodded happily. "I like it!"

As if Clay were the master of the place, moving his wife and child into a new home.

In that moment, my heart went as cold as it could go.

I went straight to the bedroom to pack a suitcase.

I was going to stay at my best friend's place.

And just as I turned to leave.

Clay suddenly spotted the pregnancy report in the bedroom.

He came charging down from upstairs, and said, worked up:

"Honey, you're pregnant?"