Dr. Cohen stared at the lab report in front of him. He hadn’t believed the results the first time, and ran the test again. There was no doubt. She was indeed going to have a baby, and no one was more surprised than he was. He knew her medical history, knew about the first pregnancy and the problems she’d experienced during the birth, as well as the odds against her ever conceiving again.
He regarded her. She looked positively radiant, the picture of health, happiness and womanhood. If there was one thing he’d learned in his years in medicine, it was that nothing was set in cement. Certainly not when it came to the human spirit—or the determination of a woman.
She’d made a remarkable recovery both physically and mentally, and remembering the death of her infant son had been a big step for her. He was more convinced than ever that she would recover her memory completely. He just wasn’t so sure how she was going to handle the rest of it.
He wasn’t going to sit in judgment of anyone for the way things had worked out. He couldn’t blame Coop for getting caught up in the charade, for behaving like a husband when she believed herself to be his wife. But there was a baby on the way, and as a doctor he couldn’t help being concerned about how discovering she was divorced would affect her health, her pregnancy and the health of her unborn child.
“I know you’re happy, and I’m happy for you, I really am,” he said. “I’m also your doctor. Don’t blame me for being concerned as to how all this is going to affect your recovery.”
“I thought we agreed I’ve recovered—past tense,” she argued.
“And I thought we’d agreed it would have been better to wait.”
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “You agreed it would be better to wait. I decided to live my life, to go after what I want.”
“And what about the memory loss?”
She couldn’t deny there were still gaps that needed to be filled in. But she was certain she’d faced the worst. Nothing could hurt more than the memory of losing her baby son.
And now there was life inside her again—life and hope and love. She felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes, and she didn’t feel afraid anymore.
“You’ve talked to Dr. Crowell. You know things are coming back. Having a baby isn’t going to stop that.”
“And what about Coop? Did you tell him you thought you were pregnant?”
Kelsey thought back to that morning on the futon bed when she’d woken him up with the news. “I told him there was a possibility.”
He could only imagine what Cooper Reed’s reaction was going to be when he received the results of the lab reports. The situation between the man and his ex-wife was complicated enough. The news that a baby was on the way would no doubt be about the last thing he would suspect.
“Well,” Dr. Cohen said, opening a drawer in his desk and pulling out a prescription tablet. “Sharon will make an appointment for you with Gary Marks before you leave. He’s in Santa Barbara, and the best obstetrician I know of. In the meantime—” he scribbled on the tablet and tore off the page “—get this filled today. I want you on prenatal vitamins as soon as possible.”
“Okay,” Kelsey said, dutifully taking the prescription from him and slipping it into her purse. “Whatever you say.”
He peered over the top of his glasses. “Yeah, right.”
His sarcasm made her smile grow wider. Besides, she felt so good right now, nothing was going to get her down. She stood, leaned over the desk and planted an kiss on his cheek. “Be happy for me, Mannie. I’m fine, and even if those other memories never come back, it doesn’t matter. I’ve got everything I’ll ever need right now.”
“Hi, Coop.”
Coop looked across the street, letting the car door slam behind him. “Hi, Jonathan.”
Coop caught sight of Holly Harding in the doorway, holding her daughter in her arms, and gave her a quick wave.
“You’re home early today, huh?” Jonathan shouted, letting the plastic baseball bat in his hands drop to the ground.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” Coop knew he was early, but pacing in his small office had been driving him crazy.
He’d wanted to be casual about today, wanted to show Kelsey it was a day just like any other day, that it was no big deal. But it was a big deal. She was seeing Mannie Cohen, and the doctor was going to burst her bubble, tell her she wasn’t pregnant, and he’d been on pins and needles all day as to how she was going to react.
She’d insisted on going to the appointment alone, even though she’d promised to call him at work afterward. Only she hadn’t called, and she hadn’t answered the phone each time he’d called—and that had only made him more nervous.
“Didn’t. you fly your hellupcupter today?” Jonathan asked, skipping to the end of the drive.
“Oh, yeah, I flew it,” Coop said, heading up the walk toward the porch.
“You fly high,” Jonathan said, standing on tiptoe and pointing up. “Way up there, huh?”
“Way up there.”
“’Cause you’re the pilot, huh?”
“That’s right, I’m the pilot.”
“Me, too,” Jonathan said, making a motor sound with his cheek. With his hands clutching an imaginary steering wheel, he raced off across his front yard toward his mother and sister, giving Coop a backward wave.
Coop laughed and slipped his key into the front door lock. It had become almost a daily ritual between them—waving and exchanging a few words. It was just one of a dozen small things that gave his life a settled, almost normal feel.
He unlocked the door, heard Kelsey in the kitchen and felt his heart lurch in his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to regret the last four weeks. They’d been the best in his life. He felt whole again, felt life was worth living. He woke up every morning looking forward to the day, and went to bed each night with Kelsey in his arms.
A miracle had happened. She had breathed life into him, rejuvenated and revitalized him. She wasn’t the only one who had recalled memories—he had, too. He remembered what it was to feel again, to hope and dream and love. He remembered what it was to be married. He felt married, he acted married. How more committed could two people be to each other? They talked together, laughed together, ate together, slept together.
He thought of the brass bed that took up considerable space in the master bedroom of their home. He knew it hadn’t been right to suggest they make such a purchase, and he never should have allowed it. But it had seemed like the right thing to do. After what had happened between them, after sharing a night of love and passion, it hadn’t felt right that they continue to sleep in separate beds.
He thought of their crazy shopping trip—bouncing on mattresses, poking, prodding, testing them out. After the emotional trauma of remembering their lost baby, she’d been giddy, and she’d made him giddy, too. She hadn’t questioned his lame excuse as to why he wanted a new bed and not the bed they’d shared during the four years of their marriage—the bed he’d gotten rid of after she’d walked out. She’d been too excited to notice his excuse didn’t make sense. And it hadn’t really mattered. They’d acted more like teenagers going steady than a couple who’d been married—and divorced.
He knew he should be preparing her for the future, knew he should be getting her ready for the truth, not perpetuating a fantasy. Except he loved her—they loved each other, and that was also the truth. If things had gone the way they should have, if life was fair and fate played by the rules, they would still be together, still be married—and they would have a family.
“Coop, is that you?”
The sound of her voice made the warmth spread through him like sunshine. after a long, dark night. “It’s me.”
“You’re early.”
Something in her voice was different. He frowned. “Maybe a little.”
“Maybe a lot,” she called back, popping her head around the corner. “I’m not ready yet.”
“Ready for what?” he asked, starting toward the kitchen.
“No, st
op,” she insisted. “Don’t come in here yet. Go take a shower or something.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get the words out, she had disappeared again.
“I don’t feel like taking a shower,” he said. If something was wrong, he wanted to hear it now. “Kelsey?” He waited a moment longer, feeling the impatience build inside him. “Kelsey? What are you doing?”
“Just a minute,” she called.
His frown deepened. He had a bad feeling about this. Something wasn’t right.
He turned, tossing his keys into the tray on the hall stand in the foyer. They hadn’t talked about starting a family since that morning on the futon, but he knew Kelsey hadn’t given up hope that she might have conceived that night—or any of the nights since then. He knew she hoped Mannie Cohen would confirm those hopes today, and he hated to think how disappointed she would be.
He turned and stared toward the kitchen, tapping a fist against the leg of his jeans. Had the test results triggered something? Did she know she couldn’t conceive, that there would never be another child? Did she know they were divorced?
“Kelsey?” he called, apprehension building in his stomach. “Honey? Is everything all right?”
“Just a minute.”
Her voice sounded strained, different, and he took a hesitant step forward. “Kelsey, this is making me nervous. What’s going on?”
“Coop, please, just a minute.”
She’d used her nurse’s voice, the voice she used when she expected her orders to be followed. But he wasn’t in the mood to follow orders. He wanted to know what was happening, and he wanted to know now.
He turned the corner into the breakfast nook and found her in the kitchen with her arms in a huge ceramic mixing bowl, working furiously.
“What are you doing?”
She jumped, her head snapping up. “Oh, Coop,” she moaned, trying to cover the enormous bowl with her hand. “You’re going to spoil everything. I told you to wait in there.”
“I didn’t want to wait,” he said, walking into the kitchen. He glanced at the open canister of flour and the empty packages of yeast on the counter. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but seeing her up to her elbows in bread dough wasn’t it. “What are you doing?”
She straightened and sighed heavily. “I was trying to surprise you.”
“By baking bread?”
She pounded at the dough in the bowl. “You used to love homemade bread.”
“I still do,” he said, remembering the perfectly rounded loaves she would make for special treats. “But why are you making it now?”
“I don’t know,” she said, tossing a damp dish towel over the bowl and setting it aside. “I was feeling particularly domestic today.”
“Oh, yeah?” He rounded the counter and reached for her. Mindless of her flour-dusted apron, he slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close. “What’s got you in such a domestic mood?”
She looked at him, letting her hands find the front of his shirt. “I’ve got something to tell you.”
He brushed a kiss along her lips. He wanted to be holding her. when she told him the doctor had burst her bubble, wanted her to know it didn’t matter to him that there would never be any more children.
“So tell me,” he whispered.
Before she had a chance to say anything, a loud chirping sounded. “What’s that?”
“My beeper,” Coop mumbled, and reached for the small electronic device clipped to his belt.
He depressed a button on the top and recognized the number on the small screen. Mannie Cohen was calling him, and he had a pretty good idea why. The doctor would have had no choice but to tell Kelsey she wasn’t pregnant, and if she’d pressed him, he might even have had to tell her she never would become pregnant again. No doubt he was calling now to give fair warning.
Fair warning, he thought, switching the beeper off. As if anything in this whole situation was fair.
“Something important?”. Kelsey asked.
“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head. There would be time later to talk with her doctors and figure out what to do. Right now she was going to need his support. “Noth-. ing that can’t wait.” Tossing the beeper on the counter, he turned to her again. “So what is it you wanted to tell me?”
Kelsey looked into Coop’s face, wanting to savor the moment. This was one memory she never wanted to forget.
He’d been afraid of her getting her hopes up, afraid of her being disappointed and getting hurt. But maybe he was just a little afraid of being hurt himself. She’d seen his face when he’d talked about their baby son. She’d seen the pain and the grief. But she could also remember how excited he had been at the prospect of becoming a father, how much he had wanted the baby she had carried for seven short months.
The death of their child had affected him, too. She understood why he hadn’t allowed himself to hope, why he hadn’t allowed himself to even consider the possibility that she might be pregnant.
Which was only going to make her news all the more joyous. He had no idea—despite the fact she had talked about the possibility, despite the fact that he knew she would be seeing the doctor today. He really had no idea what she was about to tell him.
“You know I saw Mannie today.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice sounding stiff and artificial even to his own ears. “You were supposed to call me when you got back.”
“I know,” she said, giving him a meek look. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d been afraid if she heard his voice on the phone she would have blurted out everything—and that’s not what she wanted. “I got home late, though, and then I got busy with the bread and... Time just got away from me.”
“Okay,” he said, accepting her explanation. Resting his hands lightly at her waist, he gave her a little twist. “But the bread’s rising now, the work’s all done. What did Mannie have to say?”
“Well,” she said, feeling the color rise in her cheeks. “Everything that was broken seems to be fixed now. My leg is strong, the cuts and bruises have disappeared.” She looked at him, feeling a little-like the cat who’d swallowed the canary. “Basically I’m the picture of health.”
“I can see that,” he said matter-of-factly. He dropped his hold on her waist, walked to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. He tried to move as casually and as naturally as possible, but every muscle in his body felt tight. “Anything else?”
She shook her head, watching as he pulled out a pitcher of juice and reached for a glass. “No, not really. Just that he wants me to keep seeing Dr. Crowell and...”
He filled the glass with juice, lowered the pitcher to the counter and looked at her when her words drifted off. “And?”
“And he has another doctor he wants me to see.”
“Another doctor?”
“Yeah.”
“In Santa Ynez?”
“No, it’s someone here in Santa Barbara.”
Coop thought of the page Mannie Cohen had sent and wondered what the doctor might have had to tell him. “Another psychiatrist?”
She shook her head, slipped off her apron and hung it on a hook in the broom closet. “No, he’s not a psychiatrist.”
“Then what?”
“He’s a...” She turned, drew in a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “He’s an obstetrician.”
Coop’s mind worked furiously. Why would Mannie send her to a baby doctor? Was she having that much difficulty believing she couldn’t conceive? Had she demanded the word of an expert? “Why would you need to see an obstetrician?”
Kelsey wasn’t sure where the tears had come from, but suddenly they were there, streaming down her cheeks. But she didn’t mind crying this time. “You don’t know?”
“You’re crying. What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” she insisted, smiling through the tears. “Everything’s wonderful, everything’s great!”
“Then why the tear
s?”
“I’m crying because I’m happy. I’m crying because—” She stopped, taking another deep breath.
“Because why?” he demanded impatiently.
She looked at him and shrugged. “Because we’re going to have a baby.”
“What?” Coop was sure he’d heard her wrong.
“A baby,” she said again, taking a few steps towards him. “I’m pregnant.”
Coop forgot about the glass in his hand, forgot about playing it cool. At the moment it was all he could do to move the air in and out of his lungs. He felt the glass slipping, felt it disappear from his grasp, but the ringing in his ears made it impossible to hear when it crashed against the tile floor and sent juice spilling in all directions.
“A baby?”
“Mannie ran the tests today.”
Coop shook his head, pushed himself away from the counter, walked through the spilled juice and tracked it across the kitchen. “I—I don’t understand.” He spun around and looked at her. “You must have misunderstood.”
Kelsey shook her head. “No, there’s no mistake. We’re going to have a baby.”
“You mean Mannie told you? He actually said you’re going to have a baby?”
She nodded.
“He ran tests and everything?” Coop asked, feeling breathless and a little light-headed.
She nodded again.
“And the results were that you’re pregnant?”
She slowly stepped past the spilled juice and walked across the kitchen to where he stood. “Just to be sure, Mannie ran a second set of tests.”
“And?”
“And there’s no mistake.” She slipped her hands around his waist. “We’re going to have a baby.”
“I—I don’t know what to say,” he stammered, gathering her close. “I—I can hardly believe it.”
“Believe it,” she whispered, pulling him close. “Believe it, and be happy.”
“Are you sure?”
“I ran the tests myself.”
Coop leaned forward, resting his elbow on his knee and cradling the phone against his shoulder. The bedroom was dark and quiet, with just the sound of the water running in the bathroom next door. Even though he knew Kelsey couldn’t hear him while she showered, he kept his voice low. “So there’s no mistake?”
Mind Over Marriage Page 17