Waiting for Baby

by Cathy McDavid

  Briana left once he’d handed over a five-dollar bill.

  When he went back into Lilly’s room, he noticed that her eyes were open. She quickly closed them and turned her head toward the window. Within seconds, her breathing slowed.

  Jake sat in the chair, unsure if she’d heard any of his conversation with Briana. And if she had, what she’d made of it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Hey, Mom.” Lilly stepped out of her bathroom, fresh from the shower, a towel around her hair. “You don’t have to do that.”

  “I don’t mind.” Claire Russo was in the middle of changing the sheets on Lilly’s bed.

  “I’ll help.” She reached for a clean pillow case.

  “You’ll do no such thing, young lady. No lifting or exerting yourself. You heard the doctor.”

  “It’s a pillow.”

  Claire pointed to an antique pine chest Lilly had purchased soon after moving to Payson and kept at the foot of her bed. “Sit.”

  Lilly complied. She’d been on strict bed rest since coming home the previous week after an eight-day stay at the hospital. In addition to showering, dressing and using the bathroom, she was allowed to eat at the kitchen table. That was all except for moving twice daily between the bed and the couch.

  The disadvantages of being bedridden were numerous, inactivity being the worst. Her life revolved around the TV, the phone, e-mails and surfing new-mother Internet Web sites, in-bed exercises, Sudoku puzzles, napping and visitors. The novelty had worn off by day two.

  She retrieved a comb from her bathrobe pocket and began working on the knots in her hair.

  “Here, let me do that.” Claire abandoned making the bed and took the comb from Lilly’s hands.

  Not for the first time since her mother had traveled from Albuquerque last week to stay with her, she felt like a little girl again. It wasn’t all bad. True, her mother often got carried away, and the fussing and hovering irritated Lilly. But other times, like now, when her spirits were low and sinking lower by the minute, she enjoyed the pampering.

  The anticontraction medication Dr. Paul had put Lilly on had some unpleasant side effects. So did the one that aided in developing her baby’s lungs. The eight glasses of water a day she was required to drink made her wake several times during the night and stumble to the bathroom.

  She didn’t mind. Every imposition, every sacrifice, would be worth it in the end, or so she prayed.

  Dr. Paul dropped by every Tuesday and Friday to examine Lilly. They’d vetoed in-home monitoring equipment. In Dr. Paul’s opinion, it was costly and did nothing to prevent preterm labor. She’d expressed satisfaction with Lilly’s progress and hinted at the possibility of upgrading her to modified bed rest in a few weeks. She would still have restrictions but nothing as difficult as lying on her back twenty-two hours a day.

  Lilly missed going outside. She missed work more. The phone calls from her boss and staff—once frequent enough to be considered bothersome—had dwindled significantly. The thought that they were learning to cope without her contributed to Lilly’s low spirits. As did her money concerns and the lack of a steady income. Though she’d gladly give up her job—and her paycheck—for a healthy child, she loved the center and loved feeling needed.

  Groaning softly, she shifted her weight to her other hip, which only marginally relieved the chronic stiffness in her neck and back. Pillows and hot showers helped, as did the daily back rubs her mother gave her, but the pain never truly went away and always returned a short while later.

  “Your dad called this morning.” Claire braided Lilly’s hair and tied it.

  “Is he miserable without you?”

  “He’s managing. Your brother’s checking in on him every day.”

  “How’s he managing?” Lilly’s father alternated between being the most annoying and the most terrific guy in the world. The same could be said about her brother.

  “Okay. When they’re not at each other’s throats, they’re getting along great.”

  “If I haven’t told you lately, Mom, thanks for coming out.”

  Claire resumed making the bed. “It’s been a while since your dad and I had separate vacations. I’m sort of enjoying it.”

  “Taking care of me is no vacation.”

  Lilly was well aware of how much trouble she was, most of it unintentional, some of it admittedly not. She was her father’s daughter, after all. And strict bed rest wasn’t fun. There were days, like today, when the tedium really got to her. Fortunately, her mother was well-practiced in the art of patience.

  She wasn’t the only one. Jake, who visited Lilly almost every day, ranked right up there with her mother.

  “It’s not as bad as you think,” Claire said, turning down the comforter and plumping the pillows.

  Lilly half sat, half lay in bed, her back against the headboard.

  Without asking, Claire took a bottle of lotion from the nightstand and perched on the edge of the mattress. She placed one of Lilly’s feet, swollen from water retention and from being unable to walk, in her lap and began rubbing lotion into it. Lilly almost cried, the massage felt so good.

  “How long do you think you can stay?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Claire said, unconcerned.

  “What about school? You’ve worked so hard.” Her mother’s lifelong dream was to teach, and she’d returned to college the previous year to obtain her teaching degree.

  “I can take the classes again next semester.”

  Lilly hated being such an imposition but dreaded the day her mother would leave. Fussing and hovering aside, she’d come to depend on her and didn’t know how she’d survive if her bed rest continued for three more months. Who else would see to her every need, fix her meals, entertain her, act as her personal secretary and rub her aching back and swollen feet?

  Jake.

  He’d do considerably more for her if she let him. Her mother’s continued stay was a built-in excuse to keep him at arm’s length and one Lilly frequently used.

  She couldn’t explain the change that had come over her since nearly losing the baby. From the moment she awoke in the hospital bed, reliving the terror of her previous stillbirths, she’d been reevaluating her and Jake’s relationship. Hearing his conversation with Briana outside her door had strengthened her concerns and doubts and her commitment to wait until after the baby’s birth before deciding how she and Jake should proceed.

  Claire started on Lilly’s other foot. “I told your dad when he called this morning that I’m here as long as you need me. He and school will both be there when I get back.”

  Though it was selfish of her, Lilly wanted that date to be well into the future. Every day she went without going into labor was a blessing. She’d been studying premature birth during her convalescence. Modern medicine had made great strides in recent years, but a child born twelve weeks early could suffer grave complications.

  Lilly also visited Web sites dedicated to parents of preemies and read many stories that gave her hope and encouragement. If she could just hold on…

  The phone on her nightstand rang. She reached over and picked it up, checking caller ID first.

  “Hello, Jake.”

  Claire grinned at Lilly and left the bedroom. She could tell her mother approved of Jake and wouldn’t mind having him as a son-in-law. She also liked his girls, who’d visited a few days ago. Neither Lilly nor her younger brother had children yet, and it was obvious her mother had been bitten by the grandchild bug.

  “How you doing today?” Jake asked.

  “Oh, fine.” Lilly tried to sound chipper.

  He wasn’t fooled. “Something wrong?”

  “I didn’t sleep very well last night.” It was the truth, but not why she was down in the dumps.

  Dr. Paul had warned Lilly about possible mood swings and depression caused by isolation and inactivity. Lilly, to her displeasure, had become a statistic.

  “Maybe I can cheer you up.”

  “How’s
that?”

  “Lunch. I thought I’d stop by Ernesto’s and pick up some Chicken Marsala.”

  No wonder her mother liked Jake so much; Chicken Marsala was one of her favorite dishes. Did Jake know or had he hit the mark by sheer luck?

  Lilly’s first instinct was to refuse his offer—that unexplained need to keep him at a distance rearing its head again. She didn’t, however. Her mother deserved a nice lunch, one she didn’t have to cook or clean up after.

  “Thanks. That’d be great.”

  “Is eleven okay? It’s a little early but I have to be back at the ranch by one.”

  “Sure.” The ranch. Another place Lilly missed.

  From all reports, the riding program was going well. Briana, true to her promise, helped the center’s clients as much as possible. There’d been no more incidents since the one with Jimmy Bob and the little boy, thank goodness, and corrective shoeing continued to minimize Big Ben’s lameness.

  Of all the new ideas Lilly had introduced at Horizon, this was the best. She only regretted that she wasn’t still an active part of it.

  Soon, she told herself and tried to imagine her and Jake standing by the corral fence, their baby in a stroller. The image didn’t quite come into focus.

  “I have an appointment with some people you may know,” Jake said, cutting into her thoughts.

  “Who?”

  “Jimmy Bob’s parents.” She could hear a smile in Jake’s voice.

  “Really! What for?”

  “To discuss hiring him on part-time.”

  “Are you serious?”

  “Sure. He’s doing a good job. The hands like him, and he’s a hard worker.”

  “Be honest. He’s doing a mediocre job.”

  “What he lacks in ability he makes up for in enthusiasm. Besides, I’m not paying him much.”

  “Jimmy Bob must be thrilled.”

  Lilly was grateful and deeply touched. Part of the center’s goal was to teach skills that special-needs individuals could use in the outside world. One of them actually landing a job, menial and low-paying though it might be, was cause for celebration.

  “He doesn’t know yet.”

  She wished she could be there. “What a nice surprise.”

  “I’ll let you get off the phone,” Jake said. “See you in a few hours.”

  “It’s not like I have a lot to do.” For someone who supposedly believed her feelings had changed, Lilly was reluctant to hang up on Jake. Her world had shrunk so much recently, and he was a link to what lay beyond it.

  “You sure you’re okay, sweetheart? You sound kind of down.”

  “Nothing some Chicken Marsala won’t fix.” She knew he worried about her frame of mind.

  “Everything all right with the baby?”

  “Yup. Kicking up a storm this morning.”

  “Glad to hear it.”

  They said their goodbyes, and Lilly returned the phone to its cradle. Thinking about Jimmy Bob brought a smile to her lips and gave her the motivation she needed to get out of bed and dress. In honor of the lunch Jake was bringing, she opted for stretch slacks and a maternity smock rather than the sweat-pants or lounging pajamas she usually wore.

  She padded out to the couch where she’d lie until Jake arrived. Her laptop sat on the coffee table, and next to it, the TV remote. Changing her mind, Lilly went to the solarium instead. TV and e-mail held no appeal for her this morning.

  The chaise longue, bathed in warm morning sunlight, released a flood of memories of the night she and Jake had made love there. How different things had been then. She and Jake were exploring their new relationship and optimistic about the baby. Now she fretted endlessly about the baby’s health and whether she and Jake cared enough about each other to make a go of it. He was certainly trying.

  Thank goodness his daughters’ feelings had changed—or maybe not. Briana’s conversation with Jake outside Lilly’s hospital door had given her more worries and further complicated the situation.

  “There you are.” Claire stopped just inside the solarium and rested her hand on the door. “Need anything?”

  “No. And don’t fix lunch,” Lilly added. “Jake’s bringing it. Chicken Marsala.”

  “How nice.” Claire’s face lit up, probably as much at the prospect of seeing Jake as eating one of her favorite meals. “How long’s he staying?”

  “I’m not sure. Why?”

  “I have to run to the post office, then drop off those DVDs we rented.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, Mom.”

  “It’s not that. I figured you might like some private time with him.” When Lilly didn’t respond right away, Claire asked, “You two having problems?”

  “You mean besides my high-risk pregnancy and the odds of our child being born with severe birth defects?”

  “Jake seems like the sort of man who can handle it.”

  “Only because he doesn’t know what he’s in for.”

  “Don’t underestimate him.” Claire’s tone softened. “He isn’t like Brad, and you shouldn’t lump him in the same category.”

  “He isn’t like Brad. But then, Brad wasn’t always such a jerk, either. He changed after Evan was born.”

  “That’s true.”

  “I wish I could be sure that Jake wouldn’t change, too, if the baby’s born with a trisomy disorder.”

  “THANK YOU FOR lunch, Jake.” Claire gathered their plates from the table and carried them to the kitchen sink. “It was delicious.”

  “Anytime.” He’d grown fond of Lilly’s mother in their short acquaintance and had the impression the feeling was mutual. “Let me help you with those.”

  “Nonsense. You stay put. I’m just going to throw these in the dishwasher and then get out of your hair.”

  Taking in Lilly’s carefully averted gaze, he couldn’t help thinking there was a conspiracy at hand. But not one in which she willingly participated. He didn’t mind Claire’s less-than-subtle matchmaking attempts; he’d been wanting to get Lilly alone for over a week and had been carrying the small ring in his pocket every day, just in case.

  Thanks to Claire, his wait was over.

  “Couch or bed?” he asked Lilly.

  She raised her head. “What about the solarium? I could do with a different setting.”

  He wished her smile was less forced and more genuine. Chronic bed rest was no fun, and he was becoming concerned about her. Each time he visited, she seemed more despondent, more troubled, more introverted. He had a plan, one he hoped would lift her spirits and give her something to look forward to.

  If it didn’t backfire. She’d turned him down once before.

  “Solarium it is.” He pulled her chair out and rested his hand lightly on her back as they left the kitchen.

  Claire’s parting goodbye smile was everything he wished Lilly’s was. What would her mother say if she knew his intentions? His gut instinct told him she’d approve. Believing he had an ally boosted his confidence and convinced him he was doing the right thing.

  The lush, earthy scent of green plants surrounded them the moment they stepped through the door. Sunlight streamed in through the skylights and glass windows, warming the rocks and stone walkway beneath their feet.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been here during the day. It’s beautiful.”

  Lilly sent him a look that said she remembered every detail about the night they’d made love here. It was an experience he wouldn’t mind repeating during the day. Later. After the baby was born.

  She gingerly eased herself onto the chaise. The only other piece of furniture in the solarium was a patio chair at the other end. Jake considered bringing it over but then Lilly scooted sideways and said, “Sit here.”

  His heart beat faster. Everything was falling into place perfectly.

  They didn’t cuddle quite as cozily as they had before. Nonetheless, it was nice to sit beside her, and, after several minutes of small talk, Jake sensed her relaxing. The time continued to tick by and when th
e right opening didn’t come, he began to get nervous. He’d have to leave soon in order to meet Jimmy Bob and his parents at the ranch.

  Jake decided to make his own opening.

  “What’s the latest Dr. Paul says about you carrying to term?”

  “She hasn’t quoted percentages.” Lilly made a face. “I think she’s being intentionally vague.”

  “Why?”

  “So I’ll focus on the positive. Everything I’ve been reading says the possibility of going into preterm labor again is high. Stress increases the chances.”

  “I might have a solution,” he said, smiling.

  “What?” She seemed more wary than excited.

  He reached in his pocket and pulled out the ring. The single sapphire, set inside a circle of tiny diamonds, glittered in the sunlight.

  Lilly gasped softly. “Jake.”

  “It was my grandmother’s. My grandfather gave it to her on their twentieth anniversary.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said in a voice hardly above a whisper.

  Jake took her left hand in his. “I botched my first proposal. I wanted to do this one right.”

  She curled her fingers into a fist, preventing him from slipping the ring on, and said gently, “I can’t accept. The ring or your proposal. You know that.”

  He’d anticipated the possibility of her refusal and had come prepared to convince her to accept. “Why not? We’re getting along really well.”

  “We are. But compatibility isn’t enough of a reason to marry.”

  “It’s a start. And giving my child my name is a hell of a good reason. So is supporting him. Taking care of him. Taking care of you.”

  Her shoulders sagged. “We have too many problems to work out before we can consider marriage.”

  “Not so many.” His smile dissolved into a flat line.

  “What about where to live?”

  “My house is bigger.”

  “Mine is closer to the hospital if the baby needs constant attention.”

  “Fine. Your house. I’ll commute to the ranch.”