Kelli spoke up again. “When I have kids, I’ll be really nice to them. I won’t yell and I’ll let them do whatever they want.”
“Even if it’s bad for them?” Lock asked.
“Being with Randy wasn’t bad for me.” She turned to her friend for support.
He averted his gaze. “I thought you were older. You’re a baby.”
“Am not!”
“Then quit acting like one. I could have been arrested. And when you disappeared, the cops assumed I had something to do with it. Did that ever occur to you?”
“No.” Kelli’s shoulders slumped. “I figured my friends would be glad to have me move in, but they weren’t. And now Uncle Phil and Grandma hate me.”
“Are you kidding?” Lock sought a simple illustration of how much they cared. “Your uncle’s paying me to search for you. He could have spent that money on himself. After all, you aren’t his responsibility.”
Kelli bit her lip.
“But he loves you,” Lock went on. “That’s the funny thing about love. It makes us put other people ahead of ourselves. We may act grumpy with them, but if they’re in trouble, we’ll make any sacrifice to help.”
“Not like my so-called friends,” she muttered, wiping her face with her sleeve.
“How about if I take you home?” Lock said.
“I don’t have a real home,” Kelli answered. “My dad died and my mom’s all messed up.”
“I understand how that feels. When I was a kid, my dad left and my mom went to prison for drugs.” Lock had the girl’s full attention now. “I didn’t have a grandmother or an uncle. I didn’t have anybody, so I ended up in the foster care system. You’re lucky.”
“Really?” Kelli said. “You’re not making this up?”
“I’m not. That’s why I’m such a tough guy.”
“No, you aren’t.” She glanced at the menu as if she might request more food. Instead, she said, “You think they’ll forgive me?”
“I think they already have.”
“Okay, then.”
As he put in a call to let Phil know they were heading home, Lock hoped Erica would forgive him. Not only for leaving the hospital, but for stalking out of her apartment and ignoring her attempts to call him back.
He supposed that depended on exactly what he’d been talking about—whether she loved him enough.
Or at all.
WHEN THE NURSE allowed Renée to visit, Erica kept the conversation short. Her head still hurt, and her friend looked tired, as well. Erica promised to call once she learned about the baby’s condition.
There’d been no word from Lock. Could he be that angry with her? Or had something gone wrong with Kelli? Erica hated to think of the worry that child’s family must be enduring.
A lot like I am. She understood why Paige had had to finish the delivery before driving over here, but waiting was hard. Still, while Erica could have requested that another doctor check her, she wasn’t bleeding or showing other signs of distress. Since she faced no immediate danger, and her fetus was too small for there to be any question of saving it by an emergency delivery, she might as well relax.
She didn’t want to learn the bad news from a stranger. If there was bad news.
Erica’s hand drifted over her abdomen. A month ago, when she’d learned of the pregnancy, she’d been horrified. Now, she had trouble remembering why she’d felt so unhappy, or why she’d been so determined to keep Lock at arm’s length.
True, they’d met under such peculiar circumstances. But she no longer held it against him that he’d been investigating her, testing to see if her ex-husband was lying. He hadn’t known her then.
But he does now. And I know him. That teasing smile. That rebellious hair. The habit of blinking when a remark hits home.
Erica missed him intensely. But she’d seen this afternoon, as he’d faced Renée, how raw the wounds still were from his troubled upbringing. He might not be ready for a long-term commitment and the intimacy and vulnerability that came with it. Given the strength of his defenses, he might never be ready.
At her bedside, the phone rang. Her heart leaped. “Hello?”
“Erica?” It was her mother.
Not Lock. Although her spirits sank, she tried to rally for Bibi’s sake. “Hi, Mom.”
“Are you all right?”
“Mostly I’m sore and bruised. I guess the nurse told you I fell on the stairs.” Might as well spill the rest. “I don’t know yet about the baby.” She braced for a scolding. Why hadn’t she been more careful…? What had she been thinking…?
“Please forgive me for coming down on you so hard,” her mother said. “I can’t tell you how scared I’ve been. I already lost one child. I couldn’t bear to lose you, too.”
“You aren’t going to lose me.”
“Don’t worry about the baby. You can have more.”
“What if I can’t?” You never knew about something like that, as Erica had seen with Dr. T’s patients.
“Then you’ll live a complete, fulfilling life without children, and I’ll enjoy the blessings I have,” Bibi said. “I’m sorry about the things I said to you. You’re a wonderful daughter in your own way.”
Erica started to chuckle, and winced when the movement brought a sharp twinge. The doctor had gone easy on the pain medication because of the pregnancy, leaving her right side aching from shoulder to ankle. Her head still throbbed, although less than before. “You’re a wonderful mother in your own way, too.”
Bibi laughed. “Fair enough. Forgive me?”
“Of course.” While they were on the subject, Erica added, “I wish Dad could have forgiven me. It wasn’t my fault Jordan died.”
“You think he blamed you for that?” Her mother sounded astonished.
“He could hardly face me.” Erica’s sharpest image of her father was of him turning away, time after time, when she got close.
“He may have said some things at the time, but he blamed himself for not finding a way to help your brother. Then you nearly died in the crash, too. He believed he’d let you both down.”
“He let that come between us all those years?” she asked in dismay.
“Guilt is a powerful emotion,” Bibi replied. “People with the strongest sense of responsibility are the most vulnerable. That’s my opinion.”
“Makes sense to me.” If only she’d understood about her father while he was alive. All the same, a burden had been lifted.
The curtain around her cubicle parted. In marched Paige Brennan, pushing a cart of baby monitoring equipment. “How are you? I got here as fast as I could.”
Into the phone, Erica said, “Mom, I have to go. The doctor’s here.” They said goodbye and hung up.
“How are you feeling?” the obstetrician asked gently.
“You tell me.”
“Any abdominal pain, cramping or bleeding?”
“No,” Erica said, grateful that she could honestly answer in the negative.
“Let’s check you out.” Paige indicated the Doppler stethoscope and ultrasound equipment she’d brought.
Erica had to remind herself not to hold her breath.
AMONG THE SCATTERING of people in the emergency room, Lock didn’t see Renée anywhere. At the desk, he asked about Erica. After obtaining his name, the receptionist sent him back to a curtained cubicle.
Inside, he heard women talking, too softly for him to make out the words. “Erica?” he called.
“Come in!” her voice sang out. His spirits leaped. She was awake and even sounded cheerful. Cautiously, he opened the curtains.
Erica lay on a narrow bed, blond hair mashed against the pillow, the hospital gown parted in front above a drape. To him, she had never looked more bea
utiful.
A red-haired woman in a white coat pressed a device against Erica’s abdomen. It took a moment for Lock to notice the screen displaying a black-and-white cone of shifting images.
His throat tightened. “Is that the baby?”
“Yes, and he’s fine.” Erica seemed alight with joy. “That’s him on the ultrasound.”
A great swell of joy swept over Lock. Alive. Safe. Then he registered the pronoun she’d used. “It’s a boy?”
“I mean him or her.”
“It’s too soon to tell.” The doctor gave a friendly nod. “Hi, I’m Dr. Paige Brennan. You must be the father.”
“I am.” The father. Would he ever get used to the power and wonder of that word?
“Let me explain what we’re seeing.” Dr. Paige began pointing out features on the screen. As Lock studied the flickering shadows, they took the shape of a baby, curled like a seahorse. It was tiny, the features not clearly defined, yet filled with promise. His son or daughter. A little person who would grow to be a complete individual, an envoy to the future. A man who’d shake his hand and clap him on the back, or a woman who’d, well, probably shake his hand and clap him on the back, too.
“I was explaining that at eight weeks, the baby is only half to three-quarters of an inch long,” the doctor explained as she slowly moved the device. “At this stage, the eyelids are beginning to form and toes are growing.”
“It’s…unbelievable.” Lock moved closer to Erica.
“After it gets bigger, we’ll be able to see only part of the baby at one time, so enjoy this stage,” Dr. Brennan told him.
“Ouch.” Erica shifted on the bed.
“What’s wrong?” Lock demanded, instantly concerned.
“It’s sciatic nerve pain,” she said.
Lock frowned at Dr. Brennan. “Shouldn’t you stop whatever you’re doing? It’s hurting her.”
The doctor didn’t appear offended at his accusatory tone. “She just needs to change position, which she’s done.”
He felt embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to overreact. Is this from the fall?”
Dr. Brennan gave a quick headshake. “It’s a common discomfort of pregnancy. She and I discussed it last week.”
“This is common, so early?” Lock hadn’t realized pregnancy affected women at this stage, aside from morning sickness. “I thought all those aches and pains came from carrying a large baby.”
“Pregnancy involves a woman’s entire body. It floods her with hormones, creates an entire new organ called the placenta, and swells her blood volume. And that’s just for starters.”
“I had no idea.” He should have been more sympathetic when Erica complained about carrying a child against her wishes. All the more reason for her to be angry with him.
She didn’t look angry, though. To Lock’s surprise, she reached for his hand and grasped it firmly.
The doctor pressed a button and printed out several images. “Here’s baby’s first portrait. Everything appears fine. The little guy was cushioned during the fall, so there shouldn’t be any long-term effects.”
“What about Erica?” Lock asked, his worry returning full force. “She suffered a head injury.”
“When someone loses consciousness, that’s always a concern.” After removing the paddle, Dr. Brennan wiped Erica’s stomach with a wad of tissues. “Normally, we’d run a CAT scan, but even though we can largely shield the baby from the radiation, I don’t like to risk any exposure unless absolutely necessary. The neurologist who examined her found no danger signs, such as confusion, dizziness, ringing in the ears or slurred speech. She remembers what happened during the fall, which is good.”
“I’m not sure if it’s good or not,” Erica added wryly. “That’s one memory I could do without.”
Lock wasn’t satisfied. “Not all symptoms show up right away.” In his line of work, he’d made a point of learning about trauma care.
“That’s correct.” The doctor turned off the equipment. “My recommendation, Erica, is to keep you in the hospital overnight for observation. You should stay awake until bedtime and the nurses will wake you at intervals during the night. There’s a neurologist on call in case you need him.”
“If there are no problems, can I go home tomorrow?” she asked.
“You bet.” The doctor touched her patient’s arm reassuringly. “A fall like this is frightening, but you should be fine.”
“Thanks, Paige.”
After making sure they had no additional questions, the doctor left. Lock pulled a chair next to the bed. “I got a call about Kelli. That’s why I went out.”
“Is she all right?”
He explained about meeting her at the café, and that Phil and the grandmother had arrived home in time to welcome the girl with open arms. “He’s going to move in with them, so she’ll have a mother and father figure in the home. Kelli seemed relieved.”
Erica squirmed beneath the covers. Remembering her back pain, Lock helped her into a more comfortable position. When she flinched, he released her quickly. “Are you okay?”
“Just sore. Want my advice? Go down steps the old-fashioned way. Taking a header isn’t worth the time it saves.”
Thank goodness her sense of humor had survived intact. “I’m glad you’re okay. I wish I hadn’t had to run off like that. Are you upset?”
“No, but…” She folded her hands over her stomach. “At my apartment, you told Renée you weren’t cut out to be a father. Did you mean that?”
Lock wanted to shout “No!” He was a father. He’d always be a father. Every day of his life, he would love and care about this child. But as he’d told Kelli, sometimes love meant putting the other person first. “A man can’t be in two places at once. I have to face up to the realities of my job.”
“There are ways to work things out if you want to badly enough. Or have you changed your mind about that?” She watched him intently.
“If I could figure out how to be there for my child, I’d make any sacrifice.” That was the agonizing truth.
“Even putting up with me?” Erica asked.
Dizziness. Ringing in the ears. Confusion. For a moment, Lock felt as if he were the one with a concussion. “Would you mind repeating that?”
“Putting up with me,” she repeated. “As in living together, although we might have to get a bigger apartment. There are other drawbacks. I can be cranky in the morning. Also, as you’re aware, my refrigerator is a disaster area. In fact, I suspect you know all my bad habits, considering that you spied on me for…how many weeks?”
“Only two,” Lock replied in a daze.
She folded her arms. “Well?”
He nearly got lost in her huge hazel eyes. With an effort, he pulled his thoughts together. He had to make sure he’d heard correctly, because he might be letting his hopes get the better of him. “Have you…have you decided to keep the baby? You were so dead set against it.”
“Funny how that happened,” Erica murmured. “Must be those maternal hormones. I hear they keep working for twenty years, so I guess I’m stuck.”
This was more than he had any right to expect. For Erica to forgive him despite his mistakes, for her to be willing to love and raise this baby when she hadn’t wanted one in the first place—might this be a side effect of her fall? “You should take your time to consider this. I don’t want you to end up feeling stuck,” Lock warned.
She ran her hand along his arm. “I have this little problem. I’ve fallen in love with you. Both of you. What do you think?”
Living together. Waking up every morning with Erica in his arms and a baby beside them in a crib. All his adult life, Lock had felt walls closing in at even the whisper of commitment. Now, it sounded like heaven. “I love you, too. Both of you.
Forever.”
“No one can guarantee forever,” Erica cautioned.
She was wrong about that. “I can’t guarantee that we’ll float on a cloud of bliss for the rest of our lives,” Lock conceded. “I’m talking about the real kind of love, where we talk and listen and accept each other. I grew up with rotten examples of parenting and marriage, but I saw what they can be like when I went to live with the Aarons.”
“My parents weren’t exactly a shining example of how to communicate.” She regarded him anxiously. “I still have a lot to learn.”
“We’ll be learning as long as we live,” Lock said with growing certainty. “How to trust each other, and how to be trustworthy. But we’ve come a long way, and we’re ready for more than just moving in together. Marry me, Erica.”
Her mouth quivered. “I… This is a big decision. What’s wrong with sharing an apartment first?”
Lying there in a hospital bed, she looked pale and fragile. Was he pushing too hard? Lock wondered. She’d taken a huge step already, accepting motherhood, inviting him to share her home.
Maybe he was asking too much. But he wanted them to be a family. How could either of them accept less? “We need to be one hundred percent committed. Otherwise it’s too easy to get scared and withdraw. We have to know that the other person will always be there for us.”
“Marriages can fail.” Judging by her hesitant expression, she must be thinking of her lying, cheating ex.
“Sure, if you marry a jerk.” Drily, Lock added, “I’ve been accused of being one myself, but I assure you, that’s entirely in the past.”
“Did I really call you a jerk?” Erica smiled. “I guess I did. But…there’s just one thing.”
He frowned, unsure what he’d overlooked. “What’s that?”
“You have to agree to name the baby Jordan.”
That had been her brother’s name, he remembered. “Naturally,” Lock said. “If it’s a boy.”
“Or a girl.”
She was right. The name would work either way. “I’ll name it McGillicuddy or Woozer if it means you’ll marry me.”
SH Medical 07 - The Detective's Accidental Baby Page 18