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Georgia shook her head, frowning. “He hasn’t—we don’t really—,” but she was embarrassed to admit the deficiencies in their relationship. Yet, why should she be? They weren’t dating, they weren’t engaged. They’d had sex, stupidly, once, and now they were trying to work out a way forward. “We don’t talk much.”
Portia’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I see.”
Georgia laughed. “Sorry. I mean, that’s nice of you to say, but you probably don’t. Because it’s incredibly strange. I mean, we’re having a baby together but I don’t really know anything about him, and what I do know makes me feel as though I want to slap him sideways into Sunday.” She lifted a hand to her mouth, remembering she was speaking to woman who presumably held some affection for the man. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I know what he can be like at first.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Georgia said, lips pulling to the side. “We’re just working everything out.”
“Are you?”
She bit into her lower lip. That was a fair comment. How could they be working anything out if they didn’t see each other and didn’t speak?
“Dante’s family is looking forward to meeting you.”
Georgia blanched. “Why?”
“Well, you’re the mother of a Santoro, for one thing. For another, Dante has been alone a long time. They’re curious about the woman who ended that.”
“Oh.” She looked down at the counter. “Then I’m going to be a huge disappointment.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shook her head, finding it hard to share details of that night with anyone, let alone a woman she’d just met.
“Neither of us ever thought this was the start of some great romance or anything,” she said. “It wasn’t like that. When I left Como, I thought I’d never see him again, and honestly, nothing would have made me happier.” Even as she said the words, she wondered at the strange sense of not being completely honest. She’d been so angry with Dante for the way he’d treated her, and yet she’d found herself thinking of him, thinking of the bastardy ways he’d treated her after they’d had sex, and she’d wanted to understand. Because it hadn’t seemed like him. How silly.
“And then you discovered you were pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I had symptoms. I’m—,” she hesitated again, but it wasn’t like Georgia to be guarded. She was a naturally open-hearted person. Only being around Dante had made her feel that she should watch everything she said, and protect herself with all guns blazing. “I’ve always wanted to be a surgeon,” she said slowly, as Portia finished making the tea and glided one across the counter to Georgia. “From when I was very young, I knew it was my calling. I read a lot of medical books, watched all the shows,” she said on a little laugh, but sobered quickly. “Then, my parents died. One after the other, it was like the bottom fell out of my world, and I wished someone had been able to help them. I became more determined,” she rushed on, past the emotional declaration. “I learned everything I could, while I couldn’t be at university. So with the first pregnancy symptom, I just knew.”
Portia sipped her tea. “Why didn’t you study medicine?”
“I have two younger brothers. They were thirteen at the time my parents died, I was eighteen.”
“You raised them.”
She nodded, though it hadn’t been a question so much a softly-voiced comment of understand. “Losing my parents was the worst thing that ever happened to me but getting to raise the boys was the best.”
“You didn’t mind putting off your studies?”
Georgia wrinkled her nose. “I would have loved to go to university, but I couldn’t.” She shrugged. “I considered it a deferment, not a surrendering of that dream.” But now? She sighed a little.
Portia’s eyes sparkled a little with sympathy. “Where are the boys now?”
“Well,” Georgia settled back in the seat a little, beaming unknowingly with a mix of pride and pregnancy, so Portia was struck by how absolutely stunning and vivacious the young Australian was. “They’re actual geniuses. Just the brightest boys—they always have been. Actually, shortly after mum and dad, they were offered the chance to accelerate their schooling and graduate within two years.”
Portia let out a low whistle. “And did they?”
Georgia hesitated a moment. “I didn’t think it was a good idea.” Her brow furrowed. “Everything had changed so much. Losing mum and dad like that, being stuck with me as their make-shift parent…they liked school. It was familiar. A touchstone in their life, and I think these things matter. Also, socially, they had a good group of friends. Why rock the boat? They stayed at school but I was able to enroll them in some accelerated classes as well as a few subjects at the local university—not for credits, just for extension. They thrived.”
“You’re very wise,” Portia said, and the compliment seemed to come right from her heart.
“They’re in America now. They got scholarships to an amazing school, to study aeronautical engineering and astrophysics.” She smiled, thinking of the boys. “I’m so proud of them.”
