From Here To Maternity: A Second ChancePromoted to MomOn Angel's Wings

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  “That’s the damnable part,” he said. “I didn’t know why. Couldn’t figure it out. I’d put the past to rest, had you back in my life again, had my life just as I wanted it—what in the hell did I have to be angry about?”

  I didn’t know, but I hoped he was going to tell me.

  “I was angry with you, Mel.”

  With me? How could he possibly be angry with me? How dare he? I loved him completely, had sacrificed so much. “I went through labor and delivery, buddy,” I said. “At seventeen. While you were off gallivanting around the country and if you…”

  “Shh.” He put a finger against my lips. I wanted to bite it.

  “I was angry at you for not needing me enough then, for being able to let me go. And angry, because you didn’t need me enough now to make me stay.”

  “But, Denny…”

  “I know,” he said, carefully pulling me close to him. “As soon as I arrived in Sydney I turned around and caught the next plane home—intending to give you a piece of my mind.”

  “I missed hearing it, I guess.”

  “I didn’t give it,” he said. “I got Kylie’s message as soon as I landed in L.A. I made it to Palm Desert in less than two hours and I’ve been here ever since.”

  That explained the duffel I’d noticed in the corner of my room.

  “You don’t look wrinkled or anything.”

  “They have a shower for family members’ use.”

  Family member. That sounded good. He was forgiven for coming to yell at me.

  “These past hours, while I watched you, waiting for you to come back to me, I did a lot of thinking, Mel. A lot of changing. I’m not seventeen anymore.”

  “I could’ve told you that,” I murmured against his chest.

  “And with the hindsight gained from fifty years of living, I saw that what I assumed was a lack of need in you was, instead, a love so great that you sacrificed yourself, your own needs, for mine.”

  “I’m no saint, Denny,” I had to assert. If he put me on some kind of pedestal I was only going to come crashing down. “I just love you.”

  “And I love you, Mel.”

  “That still doesn’t mean you’re cut out to be tied to a family.”

  “It wasn’t the ties that got in my way.”

  The monitor beside me sped up again. I’d be glad when they took me off the damn thing. It left a woman no privacy at all.

  “What was it?”

  “In my mind, when you became part of a family, you gave other people the right to run your life, control you, treat you as they saw fit, and you couldn’t do anything about it. You just had to take it.”

  The waves and dots slowed again.

  “In a sense, that’s true, I guess.”

  “Of course it is. If there’d been no truth in what I thought, I’d have seen through it long before now.”

  “So?”

  Did I say I was tired? Too tired to keep up with him.

  “So, what kind of fool wouldn’t give that right to someone who wanted his happiness even more than he did? Who would help him, and let him help her, to be the best they could be?”

  I couldn’t breathe. Was there a monitor that told them that, too? Out at the nurses’ station maybe? He’d just used marriage words. Did they mean what I hoped they meant? Or was I being a fool again?

  “You’ve shown me unconditional love, Mel. As much as any imperfect human being is capable of showing it. And now that I’ve finally got the picture, I don’t ever want to be without it again. Not for a minute. A day. A week. And certainly not for a lifetime.”

  I was crying again. Sobbing. Uncontrollably. All over him.

  “Will you marry me?”

  He was kissing my wet face, licking my tears, holding me so close I felt completely encapsulated by his magic—his love—the promise of peace and joy and happiness that I was only going to find with him.

  “Yes, Denny,” I sobbed. “Oh, yes.”

  And three weeks later, I did.

  It’s a Boy!

  Name: Samuel Nicholas Walker

  Date of Birth: November 3, 2006

  Weight: 6 lbs. 9 oz.

  Parents: Dennis and Melanie Walker.

  Mother and baby (and Daddy, too) are just perfect!

  Big sister is six months pregnant—and ecstatic.

  PROMOTED TO MOM

  Karen Rose Smith

  Dear Reader,

  I’m a mom, so participating in the From Here to Maternity anthology was an honor. While I was writing Promoted to Mom, it was easy for me to remember the joy and happiness associated with being pregnant, as well as the stress over many decisions parents have to make. My hero and heroine, Braden and April, realize the enormity of the decisions they make that will affect their baby. While they are figuring out their lives, they fall in love all over again and understand they need to compromise to find their happily-ever-after.

  When I celebrate Mother’s Day this year, I will give thanks for my mother, whom I miss very much, as well as for my son, who is the greatest gift I will ever receive.

  All my best,

  Karen Rose Smith

  To the women who taught me how to mother: my mom, Romaine Cacciola, my mother-in-law, Rita Smith, and my son’s (as well as my husband’s) godmother, DeSales Sterner. Thank you.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’M GOING TO HAVE a baby.”

  “April…” Braden Galloway’s shock was evident in the low sound of my name.

  We had stepped into a corner of the kitchen, away from the central hustle of Braden’s restaurant. But now the room was silent as if everyone was eavesdropping.

  When I couldn’t reach Braden at home, I had phoned the Tin Roof and his staff told me he’d gone skiing for a few days. Today, even though he was supposed to be back, he still hadn’t answered his home phone or cell and I hadn’t wanted to leave a message. This was news I had to give him in person. And yet, a mixture of joy and fear about being pregnant had led me to blurt out my reason for being here rather than choosing my moment with more care.

  I realized I’d just made a monumental fool of myself.

  Turning on my heels, I rushed down the short hall to the ladies’ room and slipped inside, bolting the door. Before Braden, I’d focused on my career. I’d been hesitant to fall in love because my father had controlled my mother’s life. In addition to that, my sister Jenny’s husband had deserted her when she’d needed him most. But when I’d met Braden, fear and hesitancy had evaporated into a haze of new love…until the night we’d argued.…Until I’d realized he hadn’t loved me enough to work out our differences.

  Tears came to my eyes and I blinked furiously. At thirty-five, I, April Renquist, was self-confident enough and savvy enough to handle whatever reaction Braden might have to the news he was going to be a father.

  There was a knock on the door, a try at the knob and then a muffled oath. The door rattled with Braden’s insistence. “Let me in, April.”

  Let him in when he hadn’t contacted me once, since our argument four months ago? Let him in when, although I already loved this baby with all my heart, I still had so many fears about being pregnant that they kept me sleepless most nights? Let him in when he’d been too inflexible even to consider my dreams along with his own?

  Knowing there was no point postponing the inevitable—I’d already put off telling Braden for too long—I flipped back the bolt.

  He opened the door slowly, then stepped inside. I was only a foot away from him again and my pulse raced like a runaway train. To my amazement, even with so much tension between us, I found I just wanted to stand there staring at the smile lines around his eyes, his strong jaw, the wave that didn’t always behave in his raven hair. The electricity between us had been as powerful as a bolt of lightning since the moment I’d met him at a Chamber of Commerce dinner the previous summer, and it still hummed between us now.

  “At least we’ll have some privacy in here.” He looked at me with his probing green eyes, as
if he were trying to see into my heart, but I was still too hurt to let him anywhere near.

  “I’m sorry I told you like that,” I apologized.

  “You just announced it to the entire state of Oklahoma. Gossip carries from the kitchen,” he added, more gently than I’d expected.

  The silence that fell over us vibrated with the memories of words we’d shared in the dark as well as words said to each other in anger. The last night we’d been together, we’d lost ourselves in desire and made body-weakening love without protection. During those time-suspended minutes, I’d forgotten what had happened to my sister, Jenny. For those minutes I’d been crazily in love with my fiancé, showing him exactly how much I loved him.

  “Is the baby mine?”

  The fact that he had to ask made me turn away from him to face the sink. “Of course, it’s yours.”

  His gaze met mine in the mirror. My light brown, chin-length hair was disheveled against the hood of my coat, and I had circles under my eyes. Braden’s serious expression gave no clue as to what I might expect from him. I wondered if I should have consulted a lawyer. If Braden tried to block my move to L.A.…

  He put his hand on my shoulder. When he did, I could remember pleasure-filled moments we’d shared, our first date, his proposal in the museum garden.

  “You know I want kids. I love the idea of being a dad.”

  I turned to face him and saw the pleasure he took at the mere thought of being a father. Four months ago, after we’d made love, I’d told him I’d been offered the promotion I’d been planning for all my adult life. But the promotion meant a move to L.A. Braden immediately reminded me that his restaurant was here in Oklahoma City…his family was in nearby Galloway…his roots were in this area. He’d suggested I turn down the promotion, marry him and start a family right away. For the first time in our relationship his attitude had been rigid, and I’d panicked, thinking I couldn’t marry a man who’d turned out to be like my father. I couldn’t marry a man who expected me to give up my dreams for his.

  “I know you like the idea of being a dad. But, Braden, I was awarded the promotion and I’m moving to California by mid-February.”

  “You can’t move. That’s not fair to me, April. I don’t want to be a father in name only.”

  His tone was determined and I knew Braden was used to getting what he wanted. But my life counted, too. My dad had destroyed my mom’s ability to make her own choices. He’d dismissed her dreams, convinced her to settle for a life without an identity of her own and persuaded her to devote her life to him. I would not let that happen to me.

  “I’m having a baby. And I’ll be the best mother I can be. But I trained for this promotion. I’ve wanted it for years.”

  Braden knew I’d started out managing a cosmetics department in a store in Dallas, then transferred to Phoenix to become a field rep. When Natural Beauty Cosmetics opened a branch in Galloway, I’d moved here knowing I could grow with the company.

  Someone pounded on the bathroom door. “Boss? We need you.”

  I recognized the voice of one of Braden’s waitresses. I’d gotten to know his staff fairly well during our whirlwind courtship.

  With a frown, he turned toward the door. “In a minute.”

  The waitress called again, “We’ve got a table unhappy with the corn dressing.”

  To me, he said in a low voice, “We can’t talk here and we’re not going to solve anything now. I have a meeting in Tulsa tomorrow. I’ll call you when I get back.”

  “You still have my number?” After all, he hadn’t called after our argument. I’d returned his engagement ring when we’d argued, yet I’d expected he might reconsider his stand on my promotion…might care enough about me to call and talk it through again. But he hadn’t. I’d heard from a friend about a week ago that she’d seen him at Galloway’s community theater with a short curly-haired redhead who had attended The Nut-cracker with him. Had she also gone skiing with him?

  “I have your number,” he said evenly.

  Studying his expression, unable to read his emotions, I had to admit I’d missed him so very much. Still I had my pride and that was going to get me through this.

  Crossing to the door, I put my hand on the knob.

  “How pregnant are you?” he asked, unable to tell because of my coat.

  “Four months.”

  The line of his mouth tightened and his angular jaw set. I knew exactly what he was thinking—I hadn’t told him right away. Unable to handle any more confrontation tonight, I went into the hall and hurried through the kitchen to the back door.

  Outside, I took a few deep cold breaths and heard a car door slam. In another direction someone hummed “Jingle Bells.” Hurrying to my car, I hit the remote to unlock the door and slipped inside. A few minutes later I was on the highway toward Galloway and the town house where I’d lived for the past ten years while I was working on my career.

  During the drive home, I reexamined why I’d never revealed to Braden the real reasons marriage and starting a family had spooked me.

  ONCE I’D GOTTEN HOME, I couldn’t seem to stop the tears. At midnight, I stood in my bathroom, my nose red from blowing it. I told myself my upset was simply a matter of hormones, yet my heart knew better. While I applied one of Natural Beauty’s soothing lotions to my face, I began to think about how my childhood and Jenny’s stillborn baby had affected my relationship with Braden. But, maybe we’d never looked below the surface with each other. Maybe we’d seized on the passion between us, right there on the surface, so we didn’t have to delve any deeper.

  The phone rang.

  I froze for a moment, then set down the jar of lotion. No one would call this time of night except—

  When Braden and I were dating, he’d often phone after I was in bed, just to say good-night. He’d done so many wonderful things. He’d made me feel so special. Had he just stopped loving me when I’d given him back his ring? My heart hurt as I answered the phone by my bed.

  “It’s me,” he said as if he needed an introduction.

  “I know,” I murmured back. Tonight I wouldn’t be describing the peach silk nightgown I was wearing or teasing him with flirty banter.

  “What are you going to do about the baby?” There was an edge to his tone. I wished I could do something to alleviate the tension between us, but I couldn’t.

  “What do you mean—what am I going to do? I’m already at sixteen weeks.”

  “Some women—”

  “I’m not some women, Braden. Don’t you know me at all?” Suddenly I realized my acceptance of Braden’s proposal after six weeks of a swept-off-my-feet courtship might have been the most foolish decision I’d ever made. We’d fallen in lust and we hadn’t had time to share our souls.

  “I thought maybe you’d consider giving up the baby for adoption,” he explained calmly.

  My breath caught in my chest. Was he thinking about suing for custody?

  “No. I won’t consider adoption. I can make a good life for our baby…especially with the promotion.”

  Time ticked by and I could feel Braden’s restrained frustration. “You know I want kids. When you have this baby, I intend to be a hands-on dad.”

  “With me in Los Angeles?”

  “I’ll fly to California whenever I can. But, April you know it would be better for you and our child if you don’t move to L.A. You might have financial security if you take this position,” he added, “but aren’t your hours going to get even longer? Won’t you have to travel? Have you thought about giving me custody when the baby’s born. I have a large loving family. My mother or sister could babysit…”

  “No!”

  When Braden somberly asked, “You really want this baby?” I realized my forceful reply had surprised him.

  With all sincerity, I answered, “Yes, I do.”

  At the moment when I’d checked the stick in the pregnancy test, happiness had rushed through me. I was pregnant.…Braden and I had created another life. Fear h
ad soon crowded the happiness, though—and my sadness that Braden and I weren’t together had overshadowed my discovery. I’d gone on with the idea of my new promotion as if it were even more important now because I had a baby to think of and plan for. Maybe I’d postponed telling Braden because he could change everything…including the way I felt about moving.

  “Did you consider not telling me about the baby?”

  I hesitated, then answered honestly, “Yes, I did.”

  “You asked if I know you. I thought I knew you…until you decided to throw everything away for a job.”

  I remembered my anguish, how torn I’d felt and how unsure I’d been as I handed back his ring.

  “I’ll get back from Tulsa around four tomorrow,” he finally continued. “Can you free up your schedule for a couple of hours?”

  My schedule was tight because I was in the midst of tying up loose ends before moving west. Right now, though, my baby was more important than my schedule.

  “I’ll free up some time.” In spite of everything, I wanted to see him again. I had to find out if he’d dismissed me from his life simply because I didn’t fit or because he’d never really loved me at all.

  After Braden said goodbye and we’d hung up, tears came to my eyes again.

  Hormones, I reiterated, determined to get my emotions under control by the time I saw Braden tomorrow.

  “APRIL, DO YOU AGREE?” Frank Temple asked impatiently.

  I’d been deep in worried thoughts of my own as my immediate supervisor, Charlie Rugland, droned on about projections for Christmas sales. I was reliving my teen years, the period during which I’d realized how unhappy my mother had been with my father. Yet she’d never had the courage to divorce him and make a life of her own. Had she stayed because of Jenny and me? Had she thought her unhappiness, her disconnect from dad, wouldn’t affect her daughters?

  When I’d started college, I’d decided my career would be more important than any man. When Jenny had married, she’d seemed blissfully happy, and after she’d gotten pregnant, she practically glowed! And then everything had gone terribly wrong. Jenny’s contractions had started early and the baby had been stillborn. My sister had sunk into a depression and her husband had become impatient with her. Not considering Jenny’s grief, Bill had wanted her to get pregnant again quickly to replace what they’d lost. But Jenny couldn’t even consider it. Wanting a family, tired of dealing with a wife who couldn’t get over her loss, her husband had divorced her.