Expecting His Baby

by Sandra Field

  She was pregnant.

  With a whimper of distress, Lise buried her face in her hands, her shoulders bowed. Could it be true? Was she really pregnant? Or had all the stresses of the past few weeks conspired to knock her off schedule? Hadn’t she, purposely, tried to shut her body down ever since she’d left Dominica, in an effort to cope with her desperate longing for Judd?

  There was a drugstore five blocks away where she could get a pregnancy test. But she’d already heard on the radio that most businesses had closed early due to the storm. Nor would she have time in the morning before Judd picked her up.

  How was she going to face him with this nightmare hanging over her head?

  She wasn’t pregnant. Of course she wasn’t. For once in her life her timing was off. And with good reason. Judd’s lovemaking had turned her into a different woman, one she’d never known existed. Why wouldn’t this be reflected in her body’s rhythms?

  But the ice had spread from her heart to the rest of her body, all the way to her fingertips. She’d taken her pleasure. And now she was paying for it.

  If she truly were pregnant, she couldn’t possibly stay at Judd’s for four months: he’d find out. How could she have been so reckless as to make love with him, and so stupid to ignore something as rudimentary as birth control?

  Because she’d fallen in love with him? All over again as an adult?

  Oh, no, Lise thought grimly, I’m not going that route. There’s no way I’d fall in love with a man I neither like nor respect. Not an option.

  I’m not thirteen. I’m twenty-eight.

  Automatically she shoved a pile of socks and underwear into her suitcase; and added the box of tampons. Because she’d be needing them. Of course she would. In fact, now that she’d realized the problem, she wouldn’t be surprised if she got back on track overnight.

  Somewhat cheered by this conclusion, Lise folded some skirts, trousers and a couple of dresses. Then she took down the photo of her parents from the bookshelves, rubbing the dust from the gold frame. Her mother’s thin, intelligent face, her father’s infectious grin: she bit her lip, knowing that at some deep level she still missed them. They’d been wrenched from her so traumatically and so finally amidst the smoke and flames that dreadful February night…and hadn’t she, the last ten years, been making reparation over and over again by plunging herself into that same world of fire and tragedy?

  Involuntarily her hands gripped the picture frame more tightly. If she were pregnant, she was carrying their grandchild. Extending her parents’ bloodline into the future. Briefly, warmth curled soft arms around her, enclosing her in a joy as tender as it was fragile. She must take care of herself. For her unborn child’s sake.

  But then Lise’s mind made the next leap. She was also bearing Judd Harwood’s child. Fruit of his body, son or daughter of his name. Just as much his as Emmy was.

  He’d want the child for himself—wouldn’t he? He hadn’t allowed Angeline custody of Emmy. Why would he allow her, Lise, to keep this second child?

  One more pawn on his chessboard.

  She wouldn’t let him take her child. She couldn’t.

  Lise suddenly became aware she’d bitten her lip until it bled. What was she thinking of? She didn’t even know for sure she was pregnant, and she was already worrying herself sick over what Judd might do. Tomorrow morning she’d ask him to stop by the drugstore on their way to his house. She had to know, one way or the other.

  Quickly Lise finished packing. Then she spent three hours wielding a dustcloth and the vacuum cleaner, until the apartment had never looked better and she felt tired enough to sleep.

  She did sleep. But when she got up to the beep of the alarm the next morning, she soon realized that she was now seventeen days late. No miracles in the night. Only a stretching of her nerves to the breaking point.

  She dressed in a denim skirt with a purple silk shirt she’d bought on sale. After pulling her hair back with a leather barrette, Lise made up her face with care, using more blusher than usual, and a bright lipstick. Lastly she pulled on her tall boots and hunter-green wool coat, also bought on sale. Pirouetting in front of the mirror, she decided she looked just fine. Businesslike. Carefree. In control.

  What she didn’t see was the deep uncertainty in her green eyes, or the tension along her jawline. But when she opened the door to Judd five minutes later, his gaze flew to her face. “You look like you’re going to your own funeral,” he rapped.

  His slate-gray eyes seemed to see right through her, stripping her of everything but confusion and terror. Deliberately she counterattacked. “You don’t look so good yourself.”

  “Don’t I? That’s because I wasn’t taking it for granted you’d be here. You did mention Mongolia.”

  “Is winning that important to you?”

  “I wonder if you’ll ever quit thinking the worst of me?”

  “I decided in Dominica that you were a good father,” Lise blurted, then paled involuntarily. What if she were to make him a father for the second time? What then?

  “Lise, what the hell’s the matter?”

  He was gripping her by the shoulders of her coat, his face only inches from hers; she wanted to kiss him so badly that she could feel the warm, sure pressure of his lips against her own. Pulling back, Lise said jaggedly, “I’ve committed myself to the next four months in your house—what else could be the matter?”

  His expletive made her wince. “Let’s go,” he said harshly. “The streets are a mess, and I don’t want to be late for my meeting. Is this all you’re bringing?”

  He picked up the two larger cases, while Lise took her overnight bag. With a feeling of fatality, she locked the door of her apartment behind her, and went down in the elevator with Judd. He was driving a sleek navy-blue Cherokee with leather upholstery; he piled the cases in the back, and Lise climbed in. As they pulled away from the curb, she said, “I couldn’t get to the drugstore last night. Would you mind stopping at the nearest one—it’ll only take me a minute.”

  He nodded curtly. She looked out the window, trying to think of something to say and failing miserably. Judd parked in the lot to one side of the mall and pocketed his keys, reaching for the handle on his door. Lise faltered, “There’s no reason for you to come—I won’t be long.”

  “Emmy needs a new toothbrush.”

  “I’ll pick one up for her.”

  He gave her a sharp look. “You planning on running away?”

  “I’ve had two weeks to do that.”

  “Then let’s go,” he ordered. “My time’s limited.”

  Lise trailed into the drugstore, bought an assortment of things she didn’t need, and paid for them. She didn’t even look in the relevant section; what was the use? On Monday, as soon as Emmy was in school, she’d get a bus downtown. Which meant she had to live with suspense for three more days.

  It seemed like a life sentence.

  She sat in silence as they drove to Judd’s house, which, as before, took her breath away with its elegant proportions, the stone a soft gray against the snow, smoke drifting from one of the many chimneys. As he pushed open the oak front door, Judd said, “The repairs should be finished in the next two to three weeks, and then you can move into your own suite of rooms.”

  However, Lise’s bedroom and private bathroom in the guest wing were spacious and attractive; they were also next door to Emmy’s room, on the far side of which Judd was sleeping. Too close, thought Lise, and heard him say, “The staff all know you’re here and will help out in any way they can. Emmy’s home for lunch and then again at three. I expect to be out all day and most of the evening.”

  So for today, at least, she didn’t have to endure Judd’s company. He rasped, “Do you have to look so relieved?”

  “I don’t know why you’re angry,” she cried. “You’ve got what you wanted—I’m here to look after Emmy and you can stay out all night if that’s what turns you on.”

  “I’ll tell you what turns me on,” Judd said, an
d planted a kiss full on her mouth. A brief kiss, fired by a mixture of anger and desire that made the blood rocket through Lise’s veins. Hunger flowered in its wake; she swayed toward him, and in a distant part of her brain knew she would do it all over again: fall into his arms and into his bed without a thought for the consequences.

  What kind of woman did that make her?

  A very foolish woman.

  “Don’t ever deny that you want me, Lise. It’s written all over you.”

  His voice was hard, without a trace of emotion; and suddenly she knew what was wrong. “But you don’t want me anymore—not really,” she said in a voice she scarcely recognized as her own. “What’s free for the taking, you despise—you told me that once.”

  “I also told you I wasn’t bringing you here as a resident mistress. And I meant it.”

  She cried, “Then why am I here?”

  “Money. Isn’t that what you said? Twelve thousand dollars.”

  He was right. She said tonelessly, “You’ll be late for your meeting.”

  “Lise, I—” He broke off. “You’ll do just fine. Emmy may take a while to come around, but I know she will sooner or later. Just make yourself at home.”

  He turned on his heel and was gone. Her knees feeling like wet cardboard, Lise sat down hard on the bed. If Judd didn’t want her, why had he kissed her? Simply to assert his mastery? And if he did want her, then why was he so insistent that she wasn’t here as his mistress?

  None of it made any sense.

  Eventually she got up and started to unpack, and gradually grew calmer. Her feet sank into the Chinese carpet that overlaid the wall-to-wall cream pile. The furniture was of waxed pine, the Roman shades and bedspread a soothing pattern of pinks and greens, which was reiterated in two big vases of freshly cut, pink-streaked peonies. Her bathroom was the ultimate in luxury with its gold fittings and deep Jacuzzi.

  When she went downstairs, Lise met Maryann the housekeeper again, along with the maids and the grounds-keeper. Friendly without being obsequious, they all contrived to make her feel very welcome. Then Emmy arrived home for lunch. The little girl left her snowsuit and boots in the back porch, looking up at Lise through her long dark lashes. “Dad said you’re going to live here for four months.”

  “That’s right. Then I’m taking a course so I can help vets with sick dogs and cats,” Lise said matter-of-factly.

  “I want a dog. But Dad says I’m not quite big enough yet.”

  “What kind of dog?”

  The subject of dogs, cats and horses saw them through lunch, which they ate in a delightful alcove off the kitchen, overlooking an enclosed orchard. Again the child baffled Lise with her combination of good manners and reserve. Surely it was self-protective. But why?

  After school, the two of them played in the snow, Lise helping Emmy build a rotund snowman with a carrot nose and eyes made out of rocks. Emmy had color in her cheeks when they went in, and ate her supper with gusto. Lise helped her in the bath, then read to her from an assortment of books. As Emmy’s eyes drooped shut, Lise said softly, “Sleep well, Emmy. I’m just next door if you need me.”

  “When will Dad be home?”

  “Later this evening, he said.”

  “G’night,” Emmy murmured, cuddling her cheek into Plush’s body in a way that made Lise want to cry. Blinking, she turned off the light and left Emmy alone, going to her own room and turning on the bathwater. There was a very real risk that she could grow more than fond of Emmy. How to guard against that, she had no idea. She did know something, though. She was going to stay in her own rooms for the rest of the evening, and not risk seeing Judd again.

  She was still seventeen days late.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE next morning when Lise went downstairs for breakfast, Emmy and Judd were already seated in the alcove, Judd drinking coffee, Emmy devouring oatmeal. Judd was dressed in an immaculate business suit with a figured silk tie. He glanced up as Lise came into the room. “Good morning,” he said with crushing formality. “I was just telling Emmy there’s been a mix-up in Singapore and I’ve got to go there right away. I should be back by midweek.”

  Masking a surge of relief that made her feel light-headed, Lise tried to look as cool and collected as he. She could go to the drugstore Monday when Emmy was in school, and she’d have a couple of days to contemplate the results before she had to face Judd again. “I hope it’s not a real emergency,” she said.

  “Nothing that can’t be fixed,” he answered dismissively. “By the way, a new Walt Disney movie opened last week, Emmy was wondering if you’d take her.”

  Lise smiled at the little girl with real warmth. “Of course, I’d love to.”

  Judd took a sheaf of bills from his wallet. “Here’s an advance on your first paycheck,” he said coldly. “And this is expense money for things like movies. I don’t expect any accounting of it.”

  She was his employee, that was the message. One among many, Lise thought with painful accuracy, and took the money, stuffing it into her pocket. “Thank you,” she said stiffly.

  “I’ll let Maryann know when I’ll be back. I always call Emmy just before her bedtime when I’m away, so if you could make sure she’s available for that.”

  “Of course.” Helping herself from the bowl of fruit salad on the side table, Lise clamped down on her temper: she might hate taking orders from Judd, but she had accepted the job, after all. And wasn’t this one more piece of evidence that Judd was a good father?

  “We get our report cards on Tuesday,” Emmy said. “I’m pretty sure I got all A’s.”

  “We might have to go to McDonald’s to celebrate,” Judd said with a grin that didn’t include Lise.

  Lise sliced a flaky croissant in two and slathered it with homemade apricot jam, endeavoring to look on the bright side. She didn’t have a trace of morning sickness and her appetite was great; so maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t pregnant. Monday. She’d know Monday. Not much longer to wait.

  Once Judd had left, Lise purposely kept Emmy busy; and was rewarded with the first sense that the barrier between Emmy and her might be lowering. Emmy wanted to talk about the movie afterward, something Lise always liked to do; when Judd phoned, at seven-thirty on the nose, Lise heard Emmy mention her own name several times.

  Judd didn’t ask to speak to her. For which, Lise told herself fiercely, she was glad. What did she have to say to him? That in thirty-six hours she’d know if she were pregnant by him?

  Actually it was closer to thirty-eight hours. And the pregnancy test came up positive. Lise sat down hard on the bed in her own apartment. She was carrying Judd’s child. She was going to be a mother. Amidst a turmoil of emotion she was aware of a shaft of pure, unquenchable joy.

  She clutched it to her. Later she’d worry about the enormous difficulties of her situation: the unforeseeable and undeniable consequences of an unplanned, ill-judged pregnancy. But for now she was happy. Quickly she picked up the phone and made an appointment with her family doctor for the following week. Then she drove back to Judd’s. Of all the complications that surrounded her like a thicket of thorns, only one thing was clear. She wasn’t going to tell him. Not yet.

  Not ever?

  On Wednesday night, Lise went to bed early. Judd was expected home some time that night; she wasn’t yet ready to face him. The happiness that had enfolded her in the apartment on Monday had gone underground, leaving her racked by foreboding and nameless fears. Judd saw too much. He was far too intelligent to deceive for long. What was she going to do?

  The changes in her body would take place inevitably and according to their own schedule: nothing she could do about that. The only plan she’d formulated was to stay with Emmy for two months rather than four, save every penny she could, and then move somewhere like Halifax, where she could live more cheaply and take the same veterinary course. Already she’d handed in her notice for her apartment; she couldn’t afford to keep it.

  Needing comfort, she put on her oldest
flannelette nightgown and made herself some hot chocolate before bed. She fell asleep around eleven, a restless sleep in which images of disaster flickered in and out of her mind. When she found herself sitting bolt upright, her heart racing, she thought it was her own dream that had woken her. Then she heard a thin cry of distress from the room next to hers. She was out of bed and into Emmy’s room in a flash, gathering the little girl in her arms. “It’s all right, Emmy, I’m here,” she said. “You’re safe, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Clutching Lise in her thin arms, Emmy burst into tears. Lise rocked her back and forth, murmuring words of comfort. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

  Emmy spilled out a confused story about a huge bonfire and dancers with masks who kept pushing her nearer and nearer the flames. Her heart aching, Lise did her best to defuse the dream’s terror; and was rewarded when Emmy snuffled, “I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes I m-miss having a mother.”

  “I’m glad I’m here, too,” Lise said; and felt guilt flood her that she would be leaving even sooner than Emmy was expecting. Emmy needed stability; which was just what Lise couldn’t give her.

  A few moments later, Emmy’s body sagged in Lise’s arms; she’d fallen asleep. Very carefully Lise lowered her to the bed, tucking the covers around her and making sure Plush was snuggled close. The little girl’s fall of dark hair on the pillow, the soft puffs of her breathing, filled Lise with the same tenderness she’d felt earlier toward her unborn child.

  If she grew to love Emmy, she’d be in even deeper trouble.

  She padded toward the door, wrapped in her own thoughts, and walked right into the man who was standing half-hidden by the door. With a tiny shriek of alarm, she pushed against his chest with her palms. “Judd—you scared me!”

  He pulled her away from Emmy’s doorway until they were out of earshot. Then he said roughly, “Did she have another nightmare?”