by Donna Alward
“How’re you feeling?” she asked warmly. “Still morning sick?”
“Unfortunately.”
“All day long or just in the mornings?”
“Just in the mornings, thank goodness.”
Dr. Mendez looked over her glasses at Lizzie. “I can give you an anti-nauseant, which will help, or we can just let it run its course. As long as you’re getting enough nutrition.”
“I eat like a horse after ten o’clock,” she admitted. “And I’m craving fruit and cucumbers.”
“Not bad things to crave at all,” the doctor agreed. “Let’s let it go for now then, if you can handle it, and if you’re still sick at your next appointment, revisit it.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Right—let’s take your blood pressure.”
They went through the rest of the appointment, talking about symptoms and fetal development and what Lizzie could expect over the next few weeks. “Now we can check for the heartbeat. No promises, but I usually find my patients find things very real once they hear it. It’s a special kind of moment.”
Lizzie’s heart quickened just thinking about it. “The baby’s father is in the waiting room. I think he’d like to be here for this.”
“Let’s bring him in then, by all means.”
“His name is Chris. Chris Miller.”
Moments later Chris was ushered into the room, looking way more out of place than he had before. She smiled tentatively at him, suddenly feeling very exposed even though the sheet covered her to the waist. It seemed stupid considering he’d seen her naked before, seeing they’d made this baby together. But this was a whole other situation. That night had been fantasy. This was reality, and a rather big dose of it all at once.
“Mr. Miller, you can stand right here.” Dr. Mendez made room by Lizzie’s shoulder while the nurse arranged everything. Before Lizzie had time to think, the sheet was tucked down and the waistband of her panties was pulled down, as well. There was no time for modesty; before she could register any embarrassment the instrument touched her skin.
She flinched, unprepared for the cold gel on the Doppler as the doctor moved it around her pelvis, searching for a heartbeat. Chris’s hand cupped her shoulder, his fingers digging in slightly and she realized she was holding her breath, waiting. The doctor’s forehead puckered as she frowned. “I’m not sure we’re going to get this today. It is a little early. Let’s give it one more try.”
She shifted it twice more and then suddenly there it was, the bum-bump sound of it filling the room and Lizzie’s ears. Dr. Mendez smiled and Lizzie felt tears form in her eyes. “Oh, my gosh,” she whispered, her smile so wide she wondered if her face might split. “Oh, my gosh.”
Chris’s hand was tight on her shoulder now. “Listen to that,” he said, his voice full of awe. “It sounds like hoofbeats.”
“Oh, you and your horses,” she teased him. She listened a little more, loving the sound. Chris leaned over, just a little, and pressed a warm kiss on her forehead.
“One-forty, right in there,” Dr. Mendez said, removing the Doppler and saving Lizzie from further emotional upheaval as Chris stepped back. The sound was gone and the nurse gave Lizzie a tissue to wipe the gel off her belly. “It looks like everything is going right on schedule. Congratulations.”
“Thanks,” Lizzie said, still awestruck.
“You’re free to go now. I want to see you in another four weeks, unless you need to reach me sooner. And Lizzie, I know you’re working very hard these days. Take time to put your feet up, and make sure you eat properly. You have to take care of yourself first and foremost.”
“I’ll make sure she does,” Chris promised.
When they were alone, Lizzie balled up the tissue, pulled up her panties and sat up. “You’ll make sure? And how do you propose to do that?” As if she needed help. As if she’d take orders.
“I wanted to talk to you about that. How about you let me buy you both dinner tonight to celebrate?”
At least he didn’t suggest going to her apartment. “Just dinner? And what are we celebrating?”
“Just dinner,” he promised, crossing his heart. The action made him look like an adorable schoolboy. “To celebrate a healthy baby, of course. Wherever you want to go.”
“Marinelli’s.” She stated her favorite Italian restaurant that was also on the pricey side. “I’ve got a craving for veal parmesan and tiramisu.”
And she wondered why her waistbands weren’t fitting properly anymore....
She’d also taken perverse pleasure in naming somewhere that his jeans and plaid cotton would be entirely inappropriate. Why had she done that? Did she really need to be in control so much?
She didn’t like the answer that came a little too quickly to her mind.
“That sounds great. I’ll call and make a reservation and then text with a time I’ll pick you up, how does that sound?”
He was being too agreeable. “Don’t worry about it. It’s a bit on the fancy side. We can do something a little more casual. Could you hand me my pants, please?”
She held out her hand and waggled her fingers.
He picked up her pants and handed them over. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled them on, hopping down and sucking in as best she could so he wouldn’t see her fighting with the button.
“Fancy’s fine. I haven’t had Italian in a while. It sounds good.”
He went to the door and held it open for her. She swept through, stopping at the desk to make her next appointment. To her surprise, Chris asked the receptionist to give him an appointment card as well, and he tucked it into his wallet.
Once outside the office, Lizzie kept her voice low. “You don’t have to come every time, you know.”
“I know that. But I’d like to know when they are, just the same. Elevator or stairs?”
“Stairs. I plan on eating well tonight.”
“You are eating for two after all.”
She rolled her eyes.
They didn’t talk as they went down the stairs, and once outside she realized they were parked in different rows.
“Marinelli’s, right? That’s what you said?”
“Yes.”
“And give me your address again. In case I get lost. I’ll put it in my GPS.”
She gave him the street address and he nodded. “Right. See you tonight then. I’ll text the time.”
“Chris?” He’d started to walk away and she found herself missing his company already. That was foolish. Having him around was the exception, not the rule. And yet she found that most days she felt very strange and isolated, going through the pregnancy alone. “Thanks for coming today. I’m glad you were there.”
His eyes warmed. “I’m glad I was, too. See you soon, Liz.”
He’d called her Liz, not Lizzie, she realized, and coming from Chris it sounded nearly like an endearment. She’d always been Lizzie and it was fine, but sometimes she longed for something a bit more grown up. That was why she’d told him her name was Elizabeth the first night, using the long version. She liked his shortened version just as well, she found.
He walked away and she took in the view of faded back pockets and broad shoulders.
Hooo boy, she sure was in trouble. Because things between them were far from over. And tap-dancing around this was like running through a pasture full of cow patties. She was pretty sure that sooner or later, she was going to step in it.
Chapter Seven
The text message said that he’d pick her up at six-thirty, and at six o’clock she was still deliberating on what to wear. In a very strange way this felt like a first date—she and Chris seemed determined to do everything backwards. Currently four dresses were draped over her bedspread and she was staring critically in the mirror at the small pouch t
hat had formed just below her waistline. She put her hands on it, dressed in only her underwear, and marveled again that a life thrived beneath her fingers. A life with a beating heart that had been loud and clear just this afternoon.
It had been amazing and it had been terrifying. With each passing day she was getting more used to the idea of being a mom. More...excited. Not only was it a new and unexpected feeling, she’d been thinking about her own mother more often. She imagined that the emotions she was feeling now—a special kind of love—would only increase when the baby was born.
How could a mother just walk away from that? How could she not come back, as if her kids didn’t matter?
Lizzie couldn’t imagine doing such a thing. And yet deep down she knew it happened because she’d seen it. She’d lived it. She wondered what had changed in her mom to make her want to leave her family behind. The only thing she could come up with was postpartum depression, though she’d never breathed a word of her suspicion to her siblings. It seemed the topic of Delia Baron was a no-go zone. Now that Lizzie was expecting her own baby, she was starting to be afraid that maybe it would happen to her, too—and she had no one to talk to about it.
She checked her watch and saw that it was nearly six-fifteen. She had to choose a dress and get it over with. In the end she went with a black jersey wrap style, the stretch of the fabric comfortable, the black slimming and the folds of the skirt a good camouflage for the pod at her middle. The deep V of the neckline looked better than usual, thanks to another pregnancy symptom that had resulted in better cleavage. She paired the dress with a smart pair of black heels and fastened a string of pearls around her neck. There. A little bit sexy, a little bit classy. Entirely appropriate for dinner.
Her bell rang at six twenty-nine—goodness, Chris had a habit of being punctual—and she opened the door to find him in a suit and tie. Her lips dropped open at the sight of him, looking so different out of his jeans and T-shirts and boots. The suit was a good one, dark gray and well-fitting through his shoulders and hips, and his tie was red, with geometric squares in a simple pattern. He was perfect right down to the tips of his dust-free shoes.
“At a loss for words?” he asked with a smile.
“You look... That’s a nice suit.” She stumbled over the compliment.
“Thanks. You didn’t think I had one, did you?”
Her cheeks heated. “You don’t seem the type.”
“A man should always have a good suit.”
“For weddings and funerals?”
He smiled again. “And dates with beautiful women.”
Lizzie tried to remain immune to the compliment. She leaned forward and whispered, “Hey, you don’t have to do that sort of thing with me. Clearly your charm already worked.”
“It’s the truth. Now, are you ready to go?”
“Just let me grab my purse.” She took a beaded clutch from the counter and grabbed her keys. In the parking lot he opened the door of his truck for her and she climbed in, not really minding taking it instead of her car. It was a relatively new half-ton with power everything and comfortable seats. He reset the address for the restaurant in the GPS and they were on their way.
“You look nice tonight,” he offered, stopping at a traffic light. “I like your hair that way.”
She’d left it down, pulling a few strands back from the sides and anchoring them with bobby pins while the rest of her hair fell in slight waves over her shoulders. She rarely wore it like this; at work she went for something more no-nonsense and out at the ranch it was usually in a practical long ponytail.
The evening was starting to feel very special indeed.
At the restaurant she was delighted to discover that their table was in a back corner, quiet and cozy with candlelight and soft music. They were given menus and before they even had them opened, waitstaff arrived with a basket of warm, fragrant bread and a chilled bottle of cider.
Despite her best intentions, she had to admit she was being romanced, and she liked it. When was the last time she’d been treated this special? She couldn’t quite remember.
Chris held up his glass. “We got off to a very unusual start,” he admitted. “But you were right. We should begin as we mean to go on. To a healthy baby boy or girl and his or her bright future.”
Her vision blurred and she blinked. How lovely and generous of him. Tonight was a far cry from tequila shots at a honky-tonk and a discount motel room.
She raised her glass. “Thank you, Christopher,” she said softly, touching the rim to his in a faint tinkle.
The cider was tart and refreshing and Lizzie helped herself to a piece of bread, dipping it in fragrant olive oil and balsamic vinegar. A waiter came and took their order and disappeared again, and Lizzie began to enjoy herself. It was a good date. Even if it wasn’t supposed to be romantic, it was still relaxing and special and a complete treat. Way better than takeout on the way home from the office or a warmed-up frozen dinner at the end of a long day.
“Lizzie, I wanted to talk to you about something,” Chris began, putting down his glass. “I told you I wanted some time to think about things and how involved I wanted to be, and I’ve done that.”
The relaxed feeling went away and Lizzie’s body tensed. Was he going to start making demands now? She knew what she was going to do. She was going to have this baby and be a mom. She’d stay on at Baron and hire a nanny, and she’d spend as much time as possible with her son or daughter.
“You know I don’t care about child support,” she reminded him. The less she demanded of him, the less he could demand of her, right?
“I appreciate that, but I intend to support my kid, financially and otherwise,” he stated calmly.
“Otherwise?”
“Lizzie, I intend to be a father to my child. I can’t go on with my life, pretending that he or she doesn’t exist.”
Her lips twisted...the last thing she wanted for her baby was to be carted back and forth between houses and all the confusion and insecurity that could come from that sort of relationship.
“I just want my baby to have stability and consistency, and I’m worried that won’t happen if we bounce her back and forth, you know?” She fiddled with her napkin.
“You mean you’re worried you won’t have parental control twenty-four seven?”
Was that it? Was it really a control issue? She pursed her lips, unsure of how to answer.
He sighed. “If you were in my position, could you simply pretend that your child didn’t exist? It’s not all about obligation. It’s about...” He broke off, clearly having as much trouble coming up with the right words as she was.
“It’s about what?” she asked quietly.
It took him a while to form his answer. “However this baby was conceived doesn’t matter. That’s about us, not him or her. I don’t want my child wondering why his father doesn’t care enough to be a part of his life. I do care. I care already. You want stability and security? I want that, too, and it has little to do with splitting time between two houses. It has to do with caring and attention. Your mother walked out on you, and you know how much that hurt. Can you honestly say it would be better for our baby if I walked away?”
He’d used her mother against her, and it hurt. It also stung that he was so right.
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“So am I,” he answered, but she shook her head.
“No, you don’t understand.” She took a hasty sip of cider; her throat felt suddenly dry. “I’m afraid I won’t be a good parent. That you’ll be better than me. That maybe he or she will...” She swallowed against a lump in her throat. “Will love you more than me.” Oh, how horrible that sounded! She wasn’t generally so insecure. And yes, she was competitive, but not for affection. What on earth was wrong with her?
“Lizzie.” He reached out for her
hand. “No one is born knowing how to be a parent. I’m pretty sure about that. You’re a strong, independent woman. You’re smart and when you relax a little you can even be funny.” He squeezed her fingers. “You’re going to be a fine mom, because you want to be. You’re already trying so hard. How can you possibly fail?”
He looked into her eyes. “And I’ll be there to help.”
It was so dangerous when he looked at her that way, all serious and honest, and it made her go all melty, which wouldn’t help the situation at all. She wanted to believe him so badly, have the same faith in herself as he did. “How can you say that? You live in another city.”
He sat back, sliding his hand away from hers. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I spoke to my bosses about going back to work.”
“And cut short your leave of absence?” She was feeling worse and worse now. From what he’d told her, he’d really looked forward to this year and doing what he wanted. “You don’t need to do that.”
“I think I do. Anyway, they need someone to head up the local office. It’s a promotion for me and it would mean I’d be in the Dallas area. Closer to you and the baby.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’d move here?”
He nodded. “To be honest, they approached me with the job last year and I turned it down, because I was already planning my leave.”
“But you were really enjoying it. And doing better, from looking at the standings.” She’d checked. His last few outings he’d been pretty competitive. After so long away, she wondered how good he’d be if he dedicated more time to it, like Jacob and Jet. He could be a real contender.
He shrugged, but for once he didn’t meet her eyes. “It was just me being a little self-indulgent anyway,” he answered.
She was going to press him about that but the waiter arrived with their food and spent several moments offering fresh pepper and parmesan and ensuring everything was just right.