Baby: MacAllister-Made

by Joan Elliott Pickart

  “That’s rather fascinating trivia,” Richard said thoughtfully. “Antibiotics can override the medically proven capabilities of birth control pills and—”

  “Richard!” Brenda said, jumping to her feet. “This is not part of our yearlong trivia game. This is real. I’m going to have our baby. Me.” She splayed both hands on her breasts. “Your best friend.”

  A smiling Richard nodded.

  “Would you quit grinning like an idiot?” Brenda yelled. “Are you in shock? That’s it, isn’t it?” Fresh tears filled her eyes and she sniffled. “I’m trying to communicate with a zombie,” she said, throwing up her hands. “I’m taking my baby and going to the wedding. Goodbye, Richard.”

  “Bren, wait.” Richard closed the distance between them and gripped Brenda’s shoulders. “I’ve heard every word you’ve said, I swear it. I was rather stunned at first and a tad terrified, I admit that, but I definitely know that this…this…”

  “The Newsflash,” Brenda interrupted. “That’s what I call it…with capital letters.” She sniffled again.

  “Okay, The Newsflash. I know The Newsflash is real.” Richard took a handkerchief from his back pocket and gave it to Brenda.

  “I can’t find the other handkerchief you loaned me,” she said, dabbing at her nose. “I think the washing machine ate it.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “What’s mine is yours. Literally. Everything.” He framed Brenda’s face with his hands. “Listen to me, please? I know you’re upset, and I’m sorry that I wasn’t here with you when you found out about…about The News-flash. But, Brenda? We’re going to be fine, just fine, you’ll see. We’ll get married right away and—”

  Brenda’s eyes widened and she took a step backward, forcing Richard to drop his hands from her face.

  “Married? Married!” she said, none too quietly. “That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. We’re not in love with each other, remember? We’re just best friends, remember? We are not getting married, Richard.”

  “Tell that to Flash, there,” he said, pointing to her stomach. “He has a mother and a father who both want him and— You do want him, don’t you, Bren?”

  “Of course I do,” she said. “How can you even ask me such a thing?”

  “So, okay, then it’s settled. We both want our baby, so we’ll get married and—”

  “No! No! No!” Brenda said, pressing her fingertips to her now-throbbing temples. “Richard, please, just slow down and think. We knew within twenty-four hours of meeting each other that we were exact opposites. We’re totally incompatible people, don’t you see?

  “As best friends we’re terrific, top-of-the-line. But as husband and wife living under the same roof? That thought is enough to give me cold chills. It wouldn’t work, Richard, it just wouldn’t. We’d end up despising each other. Besides, I don’t intend to marry anyone unless I’m deeply in love with him and he returns that love in kind.”

  “Oh.” Richard frowned and hooked one hand over the back of his neck as he stared at the floor, digesting what Brenda had said. He dropped his hand heavily to his side and looked at her again. “Well, hell, Bren, I want to be a part of my child’s life, be the best father possible. Being a weekend daddy like the majority of my divorced men friends just isn’t going to cut it for me.”

  “It won’t be like that,” Brenda said, shaking her head. “I mean, heavens, we live right next door to each other. You could see the baby whenever you wished.”

  “Oh, yeah? And how do we explain this weird arrangement to our child?” he said.

  Brenda sighed wearily. “I’m only four weeks pregnant. We’ve got a great deal of time before our son, or daughter, requires an explanation as to our lifestyle. I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m going to have a baby, without taking on the worries connected to the psyche of this child down the road. One step at a time. Okay?

  “The first thing on the agenda is getting to Kara and Andrew’s wedding. We’ve got to leave now, or we’re going to be late.”

  “Maybe we could get a group discount from the minister today,” Richard said, smiling. “A two-for-the-price-of-one deal. He can marry us after he does his thing for Kara and Andrew.”

  “Richard, we are not getting married. Just erase that from your mind because it isn’t going to happen. Not now, not later, not ever.”

  “Mmm,” he said, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets.

  “Oh, and one other thing. Please don’t tell anyone about the baby at this MacAllister event we’re about to attend. I need some private time with The News-flash before it becomes known to your whole family. Kara knows because she’s the one who told me that I was pregnant, but she won’t divulge it.”

  “I bet she tells Andrew,” Richard said, narrowing his eyes. “A husband and wife shouldn’t have any secrets from each other.”

  “She can’t tell him,” Brenda said. “It falls under patient and doctor confidentiality. The important thing today is that you act normally, behave like you always would around me. Your family will pick up on any stress between us in a heartbeat.”

  “I’m not stressed,” he said, grinning at her, though his eyes conveyed an inner turmoil. “I’m going to be a daddy.”

  “Well, I’m stressed, okay? Besides that, I have morning sickness that can’t tell time. It just hangs around twenty-four hours a day.”

  Richard stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Brenda. She stiffened, then decided to indulge in the comforting warmth and strength of Richard…just for a moment.

  “I’m so sorry you don’t feel well,” he said, as she rested her head on his broad chest. “Can’t Kara do something about it?”

  “I’m supposed to eat saltine crackers.”

  “We’ll stop on the way to the wedding and get some,” he said decisively. “A whole bunch. A couple dozen boxes of saltine crackers.”

  “I have plenty, thank you. They don’t work. Hopefully this all-day morning sickness won’t last too long. We’ve got to leave, Richard, or we’ll be late, and that isn’t fair to Kara and Andrew.”

  “We’re on our way,” he said, not moving.

  They stood perfectly still, close, arms entwined around each other, each lost in their own thoughts, each sifting the realization of The Newsflash, their baby, through their minds, hearts and souls, soft smiles of wonder and awe forming on their lips.

  Then memories of the exquisite lovemaking they’d shared weeks before began to creep in around the edges of their minds, and desire began to hum within them, gaining force and heat with each beat of their hearts.

  “Mmm,” Brenda said dreamily.

  “Whew,” Richard said, then slowly, reluctantly, eased Brenda away from his body and kissed her gently on the forehead. “We’d better get it in gear here.”

  Brenda blinked, then nodded.

  “There’s something I need to say to you, Bren,” Richard said, his voice slightly husky. “It doesn’t seem adequate, isn’t enough to express how I feel, but…thank you. You’re giving me the greatest gift I’ve ever had. My child. We sure didn’t plan on this happening, but I…well, thank you, Brenda.”

  Brenda nodded, unable to speak as her throat closed with tears.

  “Hi, Aunt Brenda,” a child’s voice said. “Aren’t you goin’ to go swimming with us?”

  Brenda opened her eyes, then sat up in the lounge chair and smiled at the three identical little girls clad in rainbow-colored bathing suits.

  “Hello, Jessica, Emily and Alice MacAllister,” Brenda said. “You look cute as buttons in your suits.”

  “Where’s your bathing suit, Aunt Brenda?” one of the girls said.

  “I have it on under this swim robe,” Brenda said. “I’m just too lazy to go into the pool today. I decided to just lie here in the sun and relax.” Truth be told, she had the ridiculous notion that everyone gathered would know in a second that she was pregnant if she paraded around in her bikini. “So! Lovely triplets of Forrest and Jillian, how do y
ou like being six years old?”

  “It’s good,” one of the girls said, nodding. “It’s better than being five was, ’cause we get to stay up fifteen minutes later at night.”

  “Aunt Brenda,” another one of the trio said, “how come you cried so much at Aunt Kara and Uncle Andrew’s wedding in the house? I heard you get the hiccups and stuff. Are you so very, very sad that Aunt Kara and Uncle Andrew got married?”

  “Oh, no…which triplet are you?” Brenda said, frowning.

  “I’m Jessica.”

  “No, Jessica,” Brenda said, “I wasn’t sad.” It’s like this, kiddo. According to the information Kara gave me, my pregnant hormones are all whacked and I cry at the drop of a hat. Plus, well, sweetie, Kara and Andrew are obviously so much in love and I guess I was feeling a bit lonely and a lot scared about this baby I’m going to have and… “It was all so special and wonderful, Jessica, that I got tears in my eyes, that’s all.”

  “A whole bunch of tears,” Jessica said.

  “Yes, well…” Brenda said. “Don’t you want to get into that beautiful new swimming pool? Maybe I’ll join you later. Okay?”

  “’Kay,” the three girls said in unison, then ran toward the sparkling blue water.

  Brenda sank back on the lounge, closed her eyes again and sighed.

  We’ll get married right away.

  Richard’s words echoed yet again in Brenda’s mind and she mentally pleaded with them to go away and leave her alone.

  Marrying Richard MacAllister was not up for consideration. When he calmed down and thought it through, he’d realize that he was lucky that she hadn’t snapped up his offer and put a date for their wedding in her day-planner…in ink.

  In all fairness, she thought, she had to give Richard credit for being wonderful about The Newsflash. He hadn’t raged in anger, nor roared in denial, nor acted like a cornered man who was being forced into the role of father, which he wanted no part of.

  No, not Richard. He was tickled pink about the whole thing, was ready to march her off to city hall and put a ring on her finger. That was very sweet, but it wasn’t going to happen. No. No way. She had no intention of marrying a man who didn’t love her and whom she didn’t love in return.

  Well, she loved Richard, couldn’t imagine life without him, but it was best-buddy love, not romantic love. Then again, that night they’d shared, the one incredible lovemaking night, had been romantic to the max, but that had just sort of…happened.

  It was not the stuff of which marriages made in heaven were based on. Not even close. Baby or not, she was not pledging forever to a man who was nothing more than her best friend.

  Brenda sniffled.

  Oh, darn it, she fumed, she was going to cry again. Why was she getting weepy now? She didn’t know, didn’t have a clue, but at this rate she was going to spend the next eight months with a red nose and a clogged-sinus headache to go along with the all-day-long morning sickness.

  “Hey, Flash, aren’t you coming into the pool?”

  Brenda’s eyes flew open as Richard sat down on the lounge next to her.

  “Richard, hush,” she said, looking quickly around. “Don’t call me that. Someone will hear you.”

  “They wouldn’t think anything of it,” he said, smiling. “They’d just figure it’s a new nickname I’ve given you. I think it’s cute, very clever, a secret code for The Newsflash, Flash.” He paused. “Why are you all bundled up in that robe?”

  Brenda sat up and tightened the sash on the terry cloth cover-up.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I just feel…strange, like my body isn’t mine, or something. I had this nutsy thought that everyone would be able to tell that—” She glanced around again. “You know what I mean.” She sighed. “Richard, I’d like to go home as soon as it’s politely possible. I really need some time alone.”

  “Well, sure, Bren, we can leave whenever you want to,” he said, reaching over and taking one of her hands in his. “Just say the word and we’re gone.”

  “No, that’s not fair to you, Richard,” Brenda said. “I’ll say I have a headache and call a taxi. You stay here. This party will go on for hours yet, and there’s no reason for you to miss out on the fun.”

  “Not a chance,” Richard said. “I brought you, I’ll see you safely home. Besides, how could I enjoy myself if I know you’re all alone in your apartment? You might even be crying. You’ve done a lot of that today. Nope. If you want to go home, I’ll take you.”

  “That doesn’t make sense,” she said, leaning toward him. “I want some private time. That means you’d be sitting in your own apartment staring at the walls, when you could be here having fun with your family.”

  “No, I’d be with you in your apartment. I wouldn’t talk to you or anything, just read a magazine, watch the tube. You could have all the privacy you needed, just pretend I’m not there. You’re not yourself today, Bren, which is understandable. I couldn’t play touch football later, while I knew you were curled up on your sofa probably wearing your pea-soup because you’re upset, or whatever it is that you are.”

  “Ohhh,” Brenda said, sinking back on the lounge. “You don’t understand the definition of private time, Richard MacAllister.”

  “Private time,” a new voice said, “as defined by a woman is a very complicated thing.”

  “And I suppose you’re an all-fired expert on the subject, Cousin Michael,” Richard said, frowning.

  “Indeed, I am, Cousin Richard,” Michael said, pulling a lawn chair next to Brenda’s lounge and sitting down. “I am a man of vast knowledge regarding the strange workings of women’s minds.”

  “This ought to be enlightening,” Brenda said, peering at Michael with one eye. “Go for it, Michael.”

  “I intend to,” Michael said. “Okay, Richard, listen up. When a woman says she wants to have some private time, you disappear, leave her alone.”

  “Amen,” Brenda said, closing her eye again.

  “However,” Michael continued, raising one finger, “don’t go too far away, because you are definitely expected to be there if said woman has a sudden thought she wishes to discuss with you that has come to her while she is having her private time.

  “In other words, hover unseen in the shadows. There’s no heading for a ball game or the local pub, my boy, because that gets you in very deep trouble.” He nodded. “I have spoken.”

  Brenda opened her eyes and laughed. “Good grief, Michael, you make women sound like fruitcakes.”

  “Hey, am I right or not, Bren?” Michael said. “I nailed it, I know I did.”

  “Well, yes, sort of… I guess,” Brenda said slowly. “But you’re talking about you and Jenny. You two are married and… Richard doesn’t have to get a handle on the intricacies of my private-time request. We’re best friends, not husband and wife.”

  “But you’re forgetting something important, Brenda,” Michael said, getting to his feet. “Yes, Jenny and I are married, have been for quite a few years now. But what I don’t think you realize is that Jenny is also my best friend and vice versa. Think about it. It’s very important. See you later.”

  Brenda frowned as she watched Michael walk away, then shifted her gaze to Richard.

  “Did that last bit of his make sense?” she said.

  “Not really.” Richard shrugged. “Forget it. Michael blithers on at times just to hear the sound of his own voice.” He paused. “Look, I’ll do whatever you want me to about your private-time thing. Your call.”

  Brenda smiled. “I’ll stay here at the party.”

  “Are you sure you want to?”

  “Yes, I’m positive,” she said. “I’ll even cheer for you when you play touch football later. Thank you, Richard, for being willing to go home with me. That was very sweet of you and I appreciate it.”

  “Hey, what are best friends for?” Richard frowned. “What they’re not supposed to do is bring The Newsflash into your life. Bren, have I messed up here? Should I be apologizing to you, as
king you to forgive me for what has happened?”

  “No, Richard,” Brenda said, smiling at him warmly. “We were both there, equal partners in— Well, enough said.” She swung her feet to the grass. “I’m finished with this silly business of sitting here covered up like a mummy. Come on, let’s go swimming.”

  Late that night Richard cut loose with a string of earthy expletives as he left his bed, smoothed the sheets, tucked in the edges, pounded on the pillow, then flopped back down.

  He was punchy from lack of sleep, he thought, would never recover from his jet lag if he didn’t quit tossing and turning and demolishing his bed.

  But he just couldn’t shut off his mind, kept dwelling on the fact that he was going to be a father, that Brenda was carrying his baby.

  The Newsflash was really sinking in, hitting him like a ton of bricks, causing a never-ending jumble of questions to chase each other around in his brain.

  Would he be a good father to his child? How was a guy supposed to know how to be a daddy? Brenda would be a fantastic mother, he just knew that she would, but what caliber of father would he be?

  Brenda. She was a very important part of his life and had been for over a year. During that year they’d both been dating, seeing people socially, with the hope of finding their soul mate, falling in love, making plans to marry and start a family. Both he and Brenda had zeroed out in that department…big-time.

  Now Brenda was going to be the mother of his child. But she wouldn’t be his wife, had refused his offer of marriage. She was probably right in having done that because, heaven knew, they were poles apart on everything from running an organized home with food in the refrigerator and clean clothes in the dresser drawers to the kind of music they liked.

  As best friends none of that mattered, but as husband and wife? Man, talk about being incompatible. They’d probably last about five minutes if they attempted to live under the same roof.

  So, he wasn’t getting married. He wasn’t head-over-heels in love. He hadn’t found his soul mate among the masses. But he was going to be a father.