The Baby Album

by Roz Denny Fox

  “Go. I’ll be fine.” She sensed his hesitation to leave her. “I appreciate this, Wyatt. I promise I will repay every cent.”

  With a cool nod, he walked away.

  Casey really didn’t like being left by herself on a dark street in an area she didn’t know. Telling him she’d hitch a ride with a trucker had been pride talking. But she could tell she’d stretched Wyatt’s patience. Why else would he bring up Angela? Casey sighed. It was another comparison she could have done without.

  She slid fully inside the car and locked the doors. Taking out her cell phone, she decided to call the one person she figured would help her make sense of the situation. “Brenda. It’s Casey. Do you have a minute?”

  “Sure. The boys are in bed asleep. I’m waiting for Greg to get home from the finance class he teaches at the university. Are you home? How did the anniversary party go?”

  “Fine. But you won’t believe what happened.” She quickly told her friend about having to call Wyatt to bring her a bigger memory chip. And how he’d stayed, helping to take pictures. “He walked me to my car when we finished, Brenda. And of all the bad luck, my car had a flat tire.”

  Brenda made sympathetic noises.

  “I knew my tires were in bad shape,” Casey lamented. “I should have stayed calm, but Wyatt told me to call Dane to come pick me up, and I flipped out. Dane bought the stupid car with bald tires. That’s what really ticked me off. Then it just popped out of my mouth that Dane had left me. I confessed everything.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah. I sort of unloaded on Wyatt.”

  “I can imagine his shock. Oh, Lordy, Lordy. Did you tell him you’re pregnant?”

  “No. I started to because I had nothing left to lose. I thought Wyatt would fire me. If not for lying, then because I now don’t have transportation. How can I go to clients’ homes without a car? The fact is, he bent over backward to help me. He’s putting the tow truck and repair costs on his credit card. He said we’ll negotiate what I pay him out of future earnings.”

  “Well, well, well. I’d say you’re having a positive effect on him, Casey.”

  “I guess that’s why I feel so guilty for not telling him the rest.”

  “Listen a minute. He reacted the way the old Wyatt would have. With compassion. That proves he’s made enough progress that he can focus on something other than his grief. What if you’d told him about your baby and it reminded him of what he lost and set him back? I think it’s a good thing you kept quiet. This way you’ll both have more time to work through your individual problems.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Heaven knows you need that tire fixed. You have to have a car you can rely on after your baby’s born, too, Casey.”

  “Yes, but…when the whole truth comes out, and you know it’s going to, Wyatt will know I lied not once, but twice.”

  “Maybe not. Not all women learn they’re pregnant as early as you did. With the upheaval in your life it’s plausible you might not realize for another month.”

  “I’m not sure I should wait any longer. Business is picking up. It might not be fair to Wyatt.”

  “You’ve made my point, Casey. The busier the studio is by the time you get so far along the pregnancy’s obvious, the less Wyatt will want to lose you.”

  “I don’t like lying to him, but I’d hate for him to hurt every time he looked at me.”

  “That makes you a good person. Sometimes good people need to bend their principles a bit to survive. It’s not as if being pregnant is going to keep you from doing a fabulous job for him. Isn’t that his number-one priority? Getting his business back to where it makes him a decent living again?”

  “You’re right. And he did say that getting my tires fixed was purely a business decision.”

  “There you go.”

  “Thanks, Brenda, I feel a bit better. Oh, I have to hang up. The tow truck’s here.”

  “Great timing. I hear Greg’s key in the lock. Are you still taking Gracie’s pictures tomorrow?”

  “Yes. Ten o’clock.”

  “Okay. See you then. She and I thought it’d be a great time to work on the dresses that need alterations. A couple are perfect for the holidays. I know that’s still months away, but you’ll want to look festive.” Brenda lowered her voice. “I promise these dresses will conceal so much, you’d have to be rubbing bellies with Wyatt for him to suspect you’re anything but in style.”

  “Holidays? You mean Christmas? Are you crazy? I’ll be seven months along by then.”

  “I know, but two of these dresses are camouflage extraordinaire. Never mind. You’ll understand when you see them. Bye.”

  “Bye,” Casey replied absently. She couldn’t help being distracted by Brenda’s predictions. The possibility of working undetected into her seventh month was beyond her wildest dreams. If she could, and if she was careful with her money, she could conceivably save enough to support herself and the baby for maybe a month after she gave birth. At which point she’d have to decide what to do next.

  Telling herself to take things a day at a time, she got out of the car to meet the tow truck driver. He accepted Wyatt’s auto club card without question and began filling out forms. Maybe things would be okay, after all. At her latest clinic visit, she remembered telling the nurse that while she’d never in the world wish her baby away, the timing sucked.

  The nurse said a lot of mothers-to-be thought that. But when a mother held her baby in her arms for the first time, all those thoughts vanished. Casey admitted that was probably true, but she still wished Dane had been happy about their baby. The way Brenda said Wyatt had been.

  THE TOW TRUCK DRIVER wasn’t talkative. During the fifteen-minute ride to Roy Mitchell’s garage, Casey tried to picture what her baby might look like. During her first visit to the clinic, she’d had to say whether or not she wanted to know the baby’s sex, and she’d said no. Besides, didn’t all newborns look pretty much the same? She thought back to the babies she’d photographed, and recalled thinking that if the parents hadn’t dressed the child in gender-specific clothes, she wouldn’t have known which it was.

  She hoped for a girl. But would that jinx her if she wished for a specific sex? She had nothing against boys. It would just be easier not to have a miniature Dane around every day. Since thinking about her loser ex-husband wasn’t getting her anywhere, Casey was relieved when the tow truck bounced into a graveled lot in front of Mitchell’s garage.

  “My directions are to leave your car outside the first bay,” the driver said, pointing to three wide closed doors. “Is somebody coming to pick you up? Otherwise I can drop you at the motel down the street. Far as I know, Roy opens at 8:00 a.m.”

  Panic hit Casey like a sledgehammer. It had never crossed her mind that her car wouldn’t be ready to drive in a matter of hours.

  But Wyatt said he’d be here. Remembering that eased panic enough for her to say, “My boss told me he’d meet me here. I’m sure he’ll take me home.”

  The words had barely left her lips when headlights cut through the darkness. But the vehicle approaching was a big pickup, not Wyatt’s SUV.

  A tall guy with brick-red hair hopped out. He seemed more interested in Casey’s car than in the two people standing around the parking lot. After a few minutes he sauntered over. “I’m Roy Mitchell.” He shook hands with the driver, who tore off a sheet from his clipboard, got Roy’s signature, then promptly took off.

  Roy turned to Casey. “You must be Casey Sinclair. Wyatt promised if I came here and installed new tires on your car, you’d take my daughter Meg’s graduation photographs for free this fall. Wyatt’s wife took our daughter Becky’s two years ago. No offense, but are you as good as Angela?”

  Casey was annoyed at facing yet another comparison to Angela, but she’d learned to disguise her feelings in front of difficult clients. “It’s hard to judge my own talent. Perhaps you should ask Wyatt, since he’s the one who offered my services,” she said.

  “Huh.
I vouch for the work I do. I know there’s not another mechanic in town who comes close to my expertise.”

  Casey wasn’t impressed with Roy’s attitude. It was probably fortunate for the sake of her car that Wyatt drove in just then, saving her from saying something regrettable and ruining her chances of getting her tire repaired before morning.

  Wyatt climbed out of his Subaru, holding a cardboard tray with three steaming cups. “Roy, thanks a million. Sorry I’m late. I detoured past a coffee drive-through. I see you’ve met Casey. ”

  “Her car’s a piece of junk,” Roy announced. “Are you sure you want four top-of-the-line radials like you said on the phone? It’s cheaper to do retreads.”

  “Coffee?” Wyatt passed Roy a cup. He lifted out another for Casey. She started to decline, but he smiled. “I got you mint tea. It was the only herbal they had.”

  Casey was grateful, but also concerned about what Roy had just said. “Wyatt, we only talked about replacing the one flat tire.”

  The mechanic took the lid off his cup and as he drank, glanced from Wyatt to Casey and back.

  “I know, but the other tires are bald, too. What’s the point of replacing one if another blows tomorrow?”

  “What will that cost?”

  Roy rolled his eyes. “Wyatt, I’ll go open the first bay while you two talk this over. Then if you’ll help me with the winch, we’ll put this wreck up on the lift and git ’er done.”

  Roy left and Wyatt let a moment pass. “Sorry about Roy’s lack of finesse. He means well, but can be kind of bossy sometimes.”

  “It seems to me you were pretty high-handed yourself. He said you promised him a free graduation sitting for his younger daughter.”

  Wyatt lowered his eyes. “Not only a free sitting, a whole graduation package. It’s cheap considering this would cost us overtime anyplace else. Even supposing another shop in town would open up this late.”

  “It’s your studio. You can give away the bank if you’d like. But your pal Roy wants a guarantee that the pictures I take of Meg will be as good as those your wife took of their daughter Becky.”

  That stopped Wyatt in his tracks.

  “Sorry, but what if Meg isn’t as photogenic as her sister?” Casey continued. “Or what if Roy and his wife don’t like the photos for any one of a hundred reasons?”

  “I’ve seen enough of your work to know they’ll like the pictures.” Wyatt glanced away, then tacked on a qualifier. “I’d be more worried that your pictures of Meg will outshine those of Becky.”

  Casey was so shocked she almost crushed her cup of tea. A dozen retorts ran through her mind. She knew she ought to thank Wyatt for his support, but she could see the torment in his eyes. The compliment had cost him. Somehow that made her admire him even more. He was a much better man than Dane.

  She had to stop comparing them. Heaven knew she hated it when Wyatt compared her to Angela. It was just that Dane had stomped all over her heart. Now, if she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself counting on Wyatt to pick up the pieces and put them back together. Not wise. She knew a day would come when Wyatt wouldn’t want to look at her. And it wasn’t far away.

  “I’ll check your price list and see how a grad sitting compares to Roy’s final bill. Then you and I will work out a payment schedule for what’s left,” she said, determined not to give any hint of her thoughts.

  Casey marched off, but wept a little inside as she went in to wait. She grieved for Dane, who had no idea what he’d lost. And for Wyatt, who felt his loss only too keenly. And for herself for being in such an impossible situation.

  Grieving, wishing, wouldn’t change anything.

  Casey sipped her tea, curling a protective hand over her belly. So many times, growing up, she had sworn she’d never be in her mother’s circumstances. And here she was, struggling financially and about to become a single mom, too.

  Casey flipped idly through a magazine. She half listened to the low rumble of the men’s voices coming through the large window that separated her from the bay and forced herself to stop dwelling on things she couldn’t change.

  Next door the men talked softball as Roy pulled the old tires off the rims. Casey heard Wyatt say, “Yeah, I’m playing. But Dave’s right—I haven’t made it to any of the team’s special get-togethers.”

  Roy disappeared, presumably to get the new tires, and Wyatt glanced around to locate Casey. He sent her a slightly crooked smile that did funny things to her insides.

  “It won’t be long,” he called.

  And it wasn’t. A minute later, Roy rolled four tires into the bay and Wyatt knelt to check them. “These look good. I know the retreads are cheaper, but are you sure they’re safe?”

  Roy nodded. “These tires are gonna outlast her car.”

  “Okay.” Wyatt stood. “Hang on. I’ll see what Casey says.” He headed for the door to the waiting room.

  “I heard,” she said when he entered. “Dane knew the car was a junker when he bought it. It’s not worth sinking much money into. The retreads are fine.”

  “It’s your safety I’m worried about. But, if these get you by, and you’re able to put aside the money you would’ve spent on new ones, maybe you can buy a better car sooner. A newer used car.”

  “Sure. Have Roy install those.” She looked at her watch, and tried to suppress a sigh.

  “It’s late,” Wyatt stated. “I know you still have a long drive home. Speaking of that drive…wouldn’t it be cheaper to take an apartment in Austin?”

  “It might be, but I’d lose a lot of money if I sold my house now. Dane refinanced the mortgage before he left, so I actually owe the bank more than it’s worth now. Besides, his parents gave us the down payment as a wedding gift. I’d hate for them to think I squandered that.”

  “Yeah…they raised such a fine son,” Wyatt drawled.

  Casey had no comeback. And none was needed. Very soon Roy had the tires on her car. Wyatt drove it out of the bay and passed her the keys. The touch of his fingers made her stomach tighten. Still, before midnight, she was on her way home.

  BEFORE THEY KNEW IT, the studio had embarked on the busiest period Wyatt said he’d ever experienced. July screeched to a humid close. August morphed into September, which flew past in a blur.

  Casey thanked her lucky stars that Brenda, Jana and Gracie had convinced her to continue meeting to finish up altering Brenda’s old maternity clothes. By mid-October Casey was into her fifth month of pregnancy and had developed a small baby bump. She worried that maybe the baby wasn’t growing well when Lucy Maynard, the clinic doctor measured her abdomen twice at her morning appointment.

  “Is something wrong?” This had become her greatest fear. She was happy at work. Her morning sickness was long gone. Wyatt was far more relaxed in her presence. On nights he didn’t play ball he lingered to discuss new software or techniques. Life was so idyllic, Casey was sure something awful was going to happen to punish her for still hiding her pregnancy from him.

  “Everything’s just fine. Your baby’s heartbeat is strong. There’s movement.” Dr. Maynard draped her stethoscope around her neck.

  “Yes. The first time was amazing.” Casey rubbed the spot where she most often felt a kick.

  “The baby’s staying tight against your backbone. You’ll probably keep thickening around your waist, but I doubt you’ll ever look really big from the front.”

  Casey slid off the exam table and quickly got dressed again.

  “You’re lucky today’s fashions are so loose anyway. Half the women out there could be pregnant and no one would ever know. Everything I’ve seen you wear makes it impossible to tell that you are.”

  “Good.” Casey bit her lip. “I haven’t told my boss yet. I’ve only had the job a few months.”

  The doctor smiled. “As long as you remain healthy and feel well, there’s no reason you can’t continue working, Casey.”

  “Oh, I know that. But it wouldn’t be fair to him. His wife died of complications from an ecto
pic pregnancy. Seeing me pregnant, being around me every day, would be too painful for him. He’s been very kind to me,” Casey said. “I can’t pay him back by hurting him, no matter how badly I want to keep my job.”

  “Sounds like he’s a candidate for grief counseling.”

  “I doubt he sees he has a problem.”

  The doctor shook her head. “Men are masters at avoiding things they’d rather not deal with. Which reminds me, Casey, you haven’t selected a birthing coach yet.”

  “I thought I had until December or January to choose one.”

  “You do. But if you have someone in mind I can give you information packets now. One tells coaches what to expect. And there’s a list of signs to look for throughout the latter months of the pregnancy. Most moms choose their husband or a close friend.”

  “Brenda, the friend I’d like to ask, used to be an OB nurse.”

  “Perfect. Talk to her soon.”

  “She has triplet toddlers, so her schedule’s not always predictable. I’m not sure she can commit to the hours it requires.”

  “Your classes start in January. You need a coach by then.”

  “I’ll have someone.”

  Her appointment had run long. Casey knew she was going to be late for her first session of the day—photographing kids in their Halloween costumes. She’d uncovered great props in the storeroom. Giant pumpkins, a big velvet cat for younger kids to hug. And there were more props perfect for Christmas photos.

  Wyatt had agreed with Casey’s suggestion of seasonal advertising, but he didn’t want any part in helping with holiday photos. She supposed that was understandable. This would be his second Christmas without his wife. Naturally, the season would be hard on him.

  She had just pulled into the studio lot, noting the absence of Wyatt’s vehicle, when her cell phone rang. The caller was Emily Endress. Over the past few months, Casey had met most of Wyatt’s old friends. Emily and Kim Torres were the only two women who still didn’t know she was pregnant.