Lifting his head enough to see her, Matt quickly returned his attention to the stripped screw. It was an easier battle to face.
“Getting ready to make a nursery.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
He knew that, dammit. “Look,” he said, sitting up for a minute, “nothing’s changed. We’re still working together to get you a healthy baby. The operative word being you. As far as I’m concerned, the situation’s no different from the first time we talked about this. Except that maybe we’ve become friends in the process.”
She was frowning, looking uncertain, which wasn’t usual for her. “You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” He was able to stare her right in the eye.
Her shoulders relaxed a bit, but her arms were still wrapped around her middle. “So why go with me to the doctor? It’s kind of an intimate thing.”
“I’d think sitting with you in the hospital for twelve hours was a lot more intimate than a ride to the doctor’s office.”
“I guess.”
“I just want to be there in case anything comes up,” he told her honestly. “You had no idea you were dehydrated the last time you went in, and that landed you in the hospital.”
“I’ve only been sick once all week.”
He was very glad to hear that. “Maybe it was only for the first trimester.”
“Maybe.”
“So you’ll let me drive you?”
“I guess,” she said, moving back to sit on the bed. But she didn’t seem all that happy about the decision.
Matt wondered why she was having such a big problem with such a small thing.
SHE WAS IN TROUBLE. Wearing another pair of black leggings and a button-down white blouse that reached to midthigh, Phyllis sat beside Matt on the way to Phoenix, telling herself it didn’t matter that he was there. That he was no more than a chauffeur to her. Anyone would have done.
And looking over at him—appreciating the fullness of his black hair, the breadth of his shoulders in the black leather jacket, the firmness of his thighs in the black jeans—she knew it wasn’t so. That same insidious coiling in her lower belly that had gotten her into this mess was in control again. Leading her to believe she wanted something she didn’t want.
Or at least part of her didn’t want.
The part that had learned life’s lessons.
“Do you think there’s one special person out there for everyone?” Phyllis asked him.
He glanced over at her and then back at the road. “I think a relationship, any relationship, takes hard work.”
She agreed with that. “But given that a person’s willing to work hard, do you think there’s someone out there for him—or her—to love?”
He was silent for a while and Phyllis pondered her own question. Was it possible that she could fall in love with someone who wouldn’t feel threatened and defensive when she identified his unstated impulses, his hidden emotions?
“I don’t believe there’s a certain person for everyone,” Matt finally said.
Phyllis’s heart sank just a little, but she agreed with him there, too. Running her fingers through her short hair, she determined to recommit herself to the definition she’d come up with for her own life. One that didn’t require a man.
Any man.
Including the one by her side.
THE DOCTOR WANTED to do an ultrasound. Phyllis started to panic as soon as she heard, thinking of Matt out in the waiting room, wishing he was in here with her. The bleeding must have been significant, after all. There was something wrong.
“…see if we can get you in today, since you’re already in town,” Dr. Mac was saying when Phyllis tuned back in.
“Okay,” she said, nodding woodenly, bracing herself for what was to come.
“I told you everything’s fine,” the doctor said, her eyes kind as she sat on the stool beside the examining table.
Scared to death, Phyllis didn’t respond. She’d just been through Tory’s pregnancy with her and the first eight months of Randi’s. The ultrasound didn’t come this early in the process unless they were looking for something.
“We’ve heard your baby’s heartbeat,” Dr. Mac reminded Phyllis. “It was healthy and strong.”
Remembering that miraculous moment only a short time before, Phyllis relaxed. Her baby was alive in there. Everything else they could handle.
She and the baby. Together. Alone. Just the two of them.
“I’m a little curious about how quickly you’re showing,” the doctor said, still giving Phyllis her complete attention. No writing on charts for Dr. Mac while she was talking to her patients.
It was one of the first things that had impressed Phyllis about the obstetrician.
“Is there some normal explanation for that?” Phyllis asked, nervous again. “Something in particular you’re looking for?” Damn. She had to get a grip. This baby had come to mean so much that she’d lost all her normal emotional strength where the pregnancy was concerned.
Dr. Mac shook her head. “I really just want good measurements for the purposes of comparison,” she said.
Phyllis could live with that.
AS LONG AS THEY HURRIED, they could get in for the ultrasound before the clinic closed. Phyllis had to drink what seemed like three gallons of water over the course of about half an hour. After that, she was once again leaving Matt reading a magazine in a waiting room while she was led off to another area.
Sitting there in a deserted room full of women’s magazines, Matt concentrated on staying calm. He hated doctors’ offices. And he hated waiting. He disagreed with all the book reviews in the People Magazine he’d found and he thought the celebrity profiles that seemed to appear in every magazine there were trite. And boring.
The colored lights blinking on the Christmas tree set up on a table in the corner were driving him insane. He hated Christmas. All that phony cheer and desperate goodwill. He’d never been part of a real Christmas celebration and probably never would.
You’d think, after thirty-three years, he’d be used to being on the outside looking in. Christmas was the worst time for that.
Damned holiday.
Matt stared at the door through which Phyllis had gone; it was still shut. Though he watched steadily, she didn’t come walking through.
Glancing at his watch, he saw she’d only been gone about twenty minutes.
How long did ultrasounds take?
She’d said the doctor only wanted measurements. Matt continued to watch the door. If anything happened to that baby…
For Phyllis’s sake, he put every ounce of mental energy he possessed on the other side of that door, in whatever room they were doing the ultrasound. That baby had to be fine. Phyllis needed it so badly.
And there was no one who deserved it more. Phyllis was the greatest woman he’d ever met. He’d never known anyone who just kept giving and giving the way she did. There seemed no end to the fount of her caring for those around her. Here she was, lying low, having a tough time of it, handling things all alone—and helping Tory birth a baby, helping to save Sophie from herself. And saving Matt from himself, too.
Dropping the People magazine back to the table, he stood, fingertips in the front pockets of his jeans. Where on earth had that last thought come from? He didn’t need saving.
He’d saved himself years ago. Had a life now. A good life.
His heart jumped when the door opened, and he waited to see who came through.
It was Phyllis. And she didn’t look right.
“All ready?” he asked, trying to assess the seriousness of the situation by her expression. And failing completely.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. Her eyes, when she smiled at him, were vacant. As vacant as the smile itself.
“You need to see anyone about paying?” he asked as she walked, very subdued, toward the door.
“No.” She shook her head. “They have my insurance information.”
Matt held the door for her, following her into the su
nshine. She walked silently to the car, her face blank, slid in and buckled her seat belt.
And then she sat, staring straight ahead, with apparently no interest in where they went next.
Matt was afraid to ask what she’d just found out. But he had to know how bad it was. Had to know if it was fixable.
“It’s after six. You want some dinner?” he asked, buying himself time.
“Okay.”
Other than that day in Tortilla Flat, a day that seemed so long ago now, they’d never actually sat at a table together to share a meal. But he knew exactly what she’d like.
Phyllis loved pasta. Of any kind. He drove to the Macaroni Grill.
But once he’d parked in the lot, he couldn’t go in. Not until she talked to him.
“So how bad is it?” He could have phrased that question a whole lot better if he hadn’t been just about ready to explode with tension. The silent drive from the doctor’s office had been the longest ten minutes he could remember in years.
Phyllis started, looked over at him. It took her a second, but her soft green eyes finally focused. “How bad is what?” she asked, gazing around. The place was decorated for Christmas. “The food here? It’s good. Really good. Haven’t you eaten here before?”
She released the buckle on her seat belt.
“Yes, I’ve eaten here before,” he said, studying her closely.
“So,” she said, turning to him again when he made no move to leave the car. “We going in?”
“As soon as you tell me what happened back there.”
She sighed. Looked a little scared. And then gave him a shaky smile. “There were two of them.”
He frowned. “Two of what?”
“Babies.”
She’d lost him completely. “Where?” There’d been no one in the waiting room when they’d come in. He’d assumed they were the only people at the clinic.
“Here,” she said, patting her belly.
Oh.
Oh.
Matt felt the blood drain from his face. Curses strung themselves together in his mind. “Two,” he said in a questioning tone—almost as though, if he gave her another chance, she’d change her mind.
“Mmm-hmm.”
Damn.
He still wasn’t sure he could ever atone for one. How in hell would he make up for two?
For deserting two?
Shaking his head, Matt lowered his hands, keys clutched in one fist, to his lap. That last thought had snuck up on him. Caught him unawares. He was deserting his own child. Children.
He, they, were going to grow up knowing their father hadn’t wanted them.
How could he do that to him? To them?
And yet, considering his own childhood, the judgments passed on him because of his father’s sins, how could he not?
“Matt?”
He turned to find Phyllis looking at him, her eyes completely lucid now and filled with concern.
“It’s okay.”
“What’s okay?”
“The fact that there are two babies, instead of one. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t have to affect you at all.”
“It means I’m twice as responsible.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“I’m not going to have you beating yourself up over this,” she insisted.
But she was too late.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
TWINS. TWICE THE WORK. Twice the bills. Twice the diapers and bottles and cribs. Twice the high chairs, the pacifiers, the clothes. Twice the love.
And twice the amount of time she was seeing Matt, too. Phyllis was going through the box of Christmas decorations Matt had lifted down for her from the shelf in her garage. He was taking her to get a tree, and because she knew him well enough to know he’d insist on stringing the lights for her when they got back, she wanted everything ready.
She felt really guilty for taking up so much of his time—even more of it, now that he knew there were two babies “to make up for,” as he put it.
As if he needed to make up for them at all!
She wished he could see that he’d given her the greatest gift she’d ever had.
It had only been two days since the ultrasound, and he’d already painted the nursery. At this rate, he could have an entirely new house built for these children before they ever put in an appearance.
She was ready and waiting, wearing black jeans with a maternity panel—borrowed from Tory—and a thick cream-colored sweater when Matt came to the door. She told him about her most recent meeting with Sophie as they drove outside town to the lot where everyone had told her to get her tree.
“She’s planning to stay in Shelter Valley for Christmas,” Phyllis said. “I guess her mother mentioned a new boyfriend who’s going to be spending the holiday at their house, and Sophie can’t bear the thought of being around for the wooing process of husband number six.”
“Yeah,” Matt said, driving slowly through town. “She told me the same thing. Poor kid.”
“I guess there’s one dorm that’s kept open during the break, and everyone who’s staying on campus moves there for those weeks.”
Matt nodded. “I’ve heard about that. They do a gift exchange and cater a Christmas dinner for them.”
“Apparently there are some pretty wild parties, too.” Or at least Sophie wanted her to believe there were.
“I hadn’t heard about those.”
His eyes on the road, Matt drove steadily, but he didn’t seem to feel very involved in their outing. Phyllis wondered why. She began to worry that all this service he’d been providing was getting to him, wearing thin.
All the more reason to do something for him.
“I was wondering…,” she said slowly, and then stopped, reconsidering what she’d been about to ask.
“What?” He glanced over at her, and the warmth in those black eyes, visible in the shine of the dash lights, had her up and running again.
“Well, I just thought that since I’m alone and you’re alone, we could have Christmas dinner together and—”
Matt shook his head before she could even get the question completely out. “You don’t have to do that,” he said.
“I want to.”
“It’s not necessary, Phyllis,” he said. “I’m sure half a dozen of your friends have invited you over for their family celebrations.”
“Most everyone’s going to be at Becca and Will’s,” she said.
“Then you should join them.”
He was right. She probably should, but… “I don’t want to join them.”
“Isn’t that what you did last year?”
“Yes.”
“Well, don’t change things on my account.”
Maybe they were already changed. Without her having any say in the matter. “Other than Tory and Cassie, they still don’t know about the baby—babies,” she confessed.
“Do Tory and Cassie know you’re having twins?”
“Tory does. Cassie’s been in Connecticut this past week doing a symposium on pet therapy.”
“How much longer do you think you need to wait before you tell the others?”
Phyllis shrugged, her arms wrapped around her stomach. “I don’t know,” she told him honestly. “I’m just not up to all the questions right now. All their concern. I know they’re going to make me feel so helpless, falling all over themselves to look after me because I’m single.”
“And that’s bad? To have friends who care for you that much?”
“Of course not! I just don’t want their pity.”
Silence fell as they turned away from town and headed out to the tree lot. Matt had worked until after dinnertime that night, and it was already dark. Phyllis watched for the occasional Christmas-tree lights glittering on homes in the distance.
“I really want to make my own Christmas dinner.” She broached the subject again, in spite of the fact that she figured she should leave well enough alone. If Matt wanted to spend Christmas by
himself, who was she to interfere?
Just the woman who loved him…
No! Phyllis jerked her head away from him. She felt an absurd, superstitious fear that if he could see her face, the thought she’d just had would somehow reveal itself to him. She stared out the side window.
“So make it.”
His reply confused her, until she remembered what she’d just said. And why she’d said it.
The reason was still valid. The plan was a good one.
And she was strong enough to put her own insecurities aside to support a friend.
“I’ll need help,” she said, only a little ashamed at playing her ace. Was she so desperate for his company that she’d actually manipulate him to get it?
God, she hoped not.
The plan was to make sure he didn’t spend the holiday alone. To show him he wasn’t alone.
That he had a friend in the world.
“Help how?” he asked.
“Lifting the turkey in and out of the oven for one.” That would keep him there for a good part of the day while the bird cooked. “Carrying the pot of water to the stove for the potatoes.”
Okay, she was digging a little deep on that one.
He nodded. His chin was jutting out, his thumb tapping on the steering wheel.
“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you,” he said, his eyes never straying from the road.
“Probably.”
“It’s that important to you?”
“Yeah.”
“Then let’s do it.”
“You’re sure?”
He hesitated, but only for a moment. “I’m sure.”
Phyllis bit her lip. “And would you mind terribly if Sophie joined us? Just for dinner, not for the day,” she added hastily. “I hate the thought of her being there in a dorm with strangers.”
“No, I don’t mind.” He finally glanced her way, and his eyes, at least in the dim lights, appeared to be filled with warmth. “As a matter-of-fact, I think it’s a nice idea.”
Phew. All in all, that had been easier than she’d expected.
HE’D NEVER BOUGHT a Christmas tree before. Not completely clear about the process, Matt was happy to assume his role of assistant, on hand to do the heavy work and simply trail around after Phyllis. He pulled up the collar of his jacket against the evening chill as he locked the Blazer.
Just Around the Corner Page 16