A Baby in His Stocking by Laura marie Altom Page B

unfortunately, the damage to her heart had already been done.
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    T HE M ONDAY AFTER T HANKSGIVING , seated in the backseat of her parents’ minivan, Natalie felt more as though she were twelve on the way home from school than having picked up her parents from Tulsa International.
    â€œWhen you told us you were pregnant,” her mother, Opal, said, “I assumed you and Craig would get back together.”
    â€œI did, too,” Natalie admitted, closing her eyes to ward off car sickness as the van took another turn. “I truly believed Craig and I were getting married. When he left…”
    Her mother reached around her seat for a sympathetic knee pat. “Don’t you worry. We’ll find you a man right away.”
    â€œI’ve already told you,” Natalie said, “I plan on raising this baby on my own.”
    Her father, Bud, snorted. “Think again, little lady. By my calculations, you’re running out of time to give this baby a proper last name.”
    â€œI have to agree,” her mom said with an exaggerated nod. “Weed Gulch is a small town. I know unwed women have babies all the time, but not in our family.” Rummaging in her purse, then pulling out a tissue, Opal dabbed the corners of her eyes before blowing her nose. “My friend Alice has a boy who just got back from Iraq. He’s an excellent provider and she says he has aspirations to own his own ranch. I’ll call to set up a date.”
    Hand to her forehead, Natalie said, “Stop. You both sound crazy. I’m a self-sufficient, strong woman. Why do you think I need a man to have this baby?”
    Opal didn’t just remain misty, but started to wail.
    One hand on the wheel, Bud used his other to stroke his wife’s hair.
    Natalie sighed. “I’m sorry your daughter and grandchild are such a disappointment.”
    â€œDon’t you dare cop an attitude,” Opal said past sniffles. “I’m sorry. No matter what, I’ll always be proud of you. I’m also sad. I want more for you. Daddy and I have been married for over thirty years. We’ve shared everything—especially raising you. It’s not that I think you can’t handle raising a child on your own, I’m just sad you feel you have to.”
    â€œMom—did you even listen when I told you Craig left me? I was devastated. Truthfully, I wanted tomarry him so badly I’d stopped insisting we use birth control. I stupidly believed a baby would be the answer to all my prayers, but I was wrong. Now I’m hurt and confused and angry. I understand him not wanting me, but how could Craig reject our child?”
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    â€œI’ M SORRY .” I N THE teacher’s lounge Tuesday morning, Josie covered Natalie’s hand. “What is it with the old guard of this town believing a woman can’t—or shouldn’t—raise a child on her own? This is the same kind of thing Georgina pulled with Dallas and me. I never pegged Opal and Bud to be so judgmental.”
    Nodding, Natalie forced down a bite of her peanut butter and honey sandwich. “They tried cloaking their condemnation with concern. I knew better. Their expressions weren’t all that different from when I got caught with beer on prom night.”
    â€œWasn’t Wyatt nabbed in that massive bust, too?” Josie finished her egg salad.
    Natalie snorted. “I’d forgotten my brief satisfaction when Principal Ving shone his flashlight smack between Wyatt’s beady eyes.”
    â€œHe doesn’t have beady eyes.” Munching a dill pickle, Josie said, “Point of fact, they’re a delicious shade of fudge-brown.”
    â€œWhatever.” Natalie focused on the walnut brownie she’d brought for dessert. All right, so even back in high school Natalie had found Wyatt’s gaze mesmerizing. That didn’t make her any less put out with him for his attitude at their last few meetings.