Nobody's Baby

by Jane Toombs

  “Look,” she said, “you both need sleep. We don’t’ have any facilities here for parents, but there’s a bed-and- breakfast two blocks away. I’ve sent people there before, and they’ve reported that the place was very nice.”

  “I don’t want to leave Danny,” Karen protested.

  “I understand. But if you don’t sleep, when he does wake up fully, rather than the rested mom and dad he needs, he’ll get two frazzled parents.”

  “What if he wakes up and I’m not here?” Karen said. “He’ll be frightened.”

  “He’s not going to be fully awake until a lot later this morning. What he’ll do is drift in and out of consciousness for a while—he won’t be aware enough to miss you. In the long run, you’ll be doing him as well as yourselves a favor by catching a few hours of sleep. After all, as I understand it, you were involved in the accident, too. That takes its toll.”

  Karen began chewing on her thumbnail. “I don’t know,” she said.

  “What’s the name of this place?” Zed asked. “And will they take us at this late hour?”

  The nurse nodded. “They’re used to hospital referrals.” She gave him the name and phone number, adding, “I’ll call them for you if you like.”

  Without discussing it with Karen, he nodded. “Two,” he said to the nurse.

  She exited, returning a few minutes later. “The lady at Snug Haven said you can come right over. She’ll have everything ready by the time you get there.”

  Karen looked at him, frowning. He put his hands on her shoulders. “You’re too tired to think straight,” he told her, “and I’m not much better. We’re taking the nurse’s recommendation.”

  Despite her obvious uncertainty, Zed shepherded Karen from the room, stopping at the nurses’ station to make certain they’d call to notify them if there was any change in Danny’s condition.

  They walked the two blocks to the bed-and-breakfast in the cool night mist, Karen clinging to his arm as though she were too exhausted to make it on her own. “Snug Haven,” she murmured, reading the sign posted on the lawn in front of a Victorian-era house.

  An older woman with graying braids down her back and wearing a long green robe led them up the stairs and into a large room. “Here you are,” she said. “We can settle up later this morning.” She was gone before Zed took in the fact that there was only the one room, not a suite. Furthermore, there was just one place to sleep in the room, a brass bed—a double, if he wasn’t mistaken.

  “I asked for two,” he said to Karen, somewhat unsure whether he’d specified two rooms or two beds. “You take this one and I’ll—”

  She clutched his arm. “No,” she said, “don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear to be alone.”

  He didn’t much fancy being alone, either, but, even as exhausted as he felt, he knew sleeping in the same bed with Karen without making love to her would be a real challenge. Spotting an afghan thrown over a chair, he said, “I’ll sleep on top of the covers and use the afghan.”

  With all their belongings still in the car, unreachable until the garage opened later in the day, they had no reason to undress. Her shoes off, Karen padded into the bath-room first. Zed kicked off his shoes and removed his shirt while he waited for his turn. When he came out of the bathroom, Karen was already curled into a ball under the bed covers, sound asleep. He grabbed the afghan in passing and flopped on top of the bed.

  Karen woke to darkness with no idea where she was. Groggy with sleep, she tried to orient herself. Not home. A motel? But motels usually didn’t smell of potpourri. So where on earth was she? Throwing the covers back, she started to sit up to grope for a bedside lamp. Then, suddenly, she realized she wasn’t alone in the bed.

  “What’s wrong?” a man’s voice asked, sleepily slurring the words. She recognized the voice as Zed’s and everything flooded back—the drive north, the accident, Danny….

  She reached for Zed, seeking reassurance and comfort. “Oh, Zed,” she cried, “do you think he’s all right?”

  He shifted position, gathering her into his arms and pulling her down next to him. “Shh, don’t worry. If anything had gone wrong, we’d have been notified. You know he was improving when we left.”

  Zed’s hand stroked her back, warm through her shirt. She buried her face in his shoulder, comforted by his familiar smell and his solid presence. “Close your eyes and relax,” he murmured. “The worst is over. No more bad things are going to happen.”

  The assurance in his voice made her believe him. Danny was improving, the nurse had said so and she had seen for herself that he was better. Snuggling closer, she whispered, “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

  “I am, too. This is no time to be alone.”

  She closed her eyes, knowing she was safe in his arms. “Snug haven,” she murmured drowsily, sinking back into sleep’s embrace.

  Sleep eluded Zed. Holding Karen close kept him aroused, despite his effort to detach himself from his erotic feelings. He wanted her—he couldn’t help himself—but he was determined not to act on his need. At least, not here and now. When she finally sighed and turned away from him in her sleep, he breathed a sigh of relief and eased quietly from the bed. A look at his watch told him it was a few minutes past five-thirty. He groped for his shirt and his shoes, found them and let himself out of the room.

  He padded carefully down the stairs, donning his shirt and shoes before letting himself out into the still-dark morning.

  At the hospital he checked on Danny, who was either sleeping or still unconscious. “Sleeping,” the nurse said when he asked. “He woke all the way up, looked around and seemed about to cry. I handed him that stuffed toy you left in his crib. He clutched it to him and closed his eyes again.”

  Reassured, Zed sat by Danny’s crib for a while in case the boy roused again. After a time he decided Danny wasn’t going to wake up and therefore didn’t need him. He left pediatrics, intending to have some coffee before returning to Snug Haven but, instead of heading for the coffee machine in the lobby, he found himself outside ICU.

  When he pushed open the door the nurse smiled at him. “Talal’s relative, right? He’s come back from the recovery room and his vitals are stable. You can go in and see him, if you like.”

  Zed hesitated, then turned toward 5A. He walked slowly up to Talal’s bed and gazed down at him. He was still out for the count, with tubes stuck everywhere and his left leg in a cast that was propped on pillows. Zed was about to turn away when, to his surprise, Talal’s eyelids fluttered and opened. Dark eyes stared into his. “Zeid?” Talal whispered.

  A shock wave shook through Zed, penetrating to the marrow of his bones. Though the word sounded strange with Talal’s pronunciation, he’d spoken Zed’s name.

  How in hell can he possibly know who I am? Zed asked himself.

  Talal’s eyes closed and he began breathing deeply again, leaving Zed confused and mystified, aware Talal was in no condition to answer the questions roiling in his mind.

  Coffee forgotten, he returned to Snug Haven. As he opened the door the enticing smell of food cooking made his stomach gurgle. The bed-and-breakfast owner appeared at the end of the hall, wearing a blue knit dress, her braids neatly coiled around her head. “Up so soon?” she asked. “Breakfast won’t be ready for a half hour.”

  “Is it possible I could have a cup of coffee while I wait?” he asked.

  “Of course. Cream and sugar?”

  “Just a tad of each.”

  When she returned with a man-size mug of coffee, he thanked her and carried it upstairs. Karen was still huddled under the covers. He tried to be quiet, but she roused when he entered. “I’ve been to see Danny,” he told her. “He’s doing fine, actually sleeping instead of being in a coma.”

  He held back the fact that he’d stopped to visit Talal, not quite ready to share the strange response he’d gotten. “I’ve been informed breakfast will be served in a half hour,” he added.

  “Thank heaven—I’m starved. You’re sure Da
nny’s okay?”

  “Confirmed by the nurse.”

  She eased from the bed, running a hand through her hair. “I wish I didn’t feel so grungy.”

  She might feel grungy, but he thought she looked as sexy as hell with her hair tousled and that sleepy daze in her eyes. “I’ll retrieve our belongings after breakfast, “he said, tamping down his urge to gather her into his arms.

  Karen had never been smitten by men with stubbled beards, but on Zed the stubble added a dangerous aura that fascinated her. Especially when he gazed at her so hungrily. Involuntarily she took a step toward him.

  “We seem to keep sharing beds,” he said softly. “I’m not sure I can keep doing that and behaving.” He held out his hands and she put her hands into his, allowing him to draw her closer, until they were almost but not quite touching.

  “What I’m saying is,” he continued, “we’ll probably be staying in Monterey for a few days while Danny recuperates. This place is convenient to the hospital.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, trying to control her breathing and concentrate on what he was saying. When he was this close to her, she had trouble thinking.

  “Then you want to stay here until we can take Danny home?”

  She nodded, her gaze fixed on his lips. How was it she’d never noticed the elegant curve of his upper lip and the sensual fullness of the lower?

  “We do have a problem, then.”

  “No problem,” she murmured, wondering when he was going to kiss her.

  “If you say it’s not, I sure as hell won’t argue.” He set down the mug he carried and lowered his head until his lips met hers.

  His stubble rasped against her face, not unpleasantly, adding a new dimension to his kiss. Her lips parted, al-lowing him entry, and she tasted coffee as well as his own special flavor. He gathered her to. him, his hands sliding down to cup her rear, pressing her against his arousal while he nibbled at her lips, his tongue tasting and exploring her mouth.

  Desire raced like wildfire along her nerves, diffusing through her, flushing her skin and turning her insides molten. She wrapped her arms around him, responding to his kiss with a passion she’d never felt before for any man.

  They swayed together, so intense was the desire bonding them. She felt that if he released her she’d melt into a pool at his feet. She slid her hands under his shirt, eager to touch his skin.

  He groaned, lifting her off her feet and carrying her the few steps to the ornate brass bed. Just as they sprawled together on it, she heard the tinkle of a bell. Faint at first, the ringing grew louder and more insistent, making it impossible to ignore.

  Zed pulled away from her enough to mutter, “I take it that means breakfast is served. To hell with breakfast. You’re what I need.”

  She needed him, too, but if they didn’t appear, Karen feared the next summons might be a knock at their door. Sighing, she eased free and stood, saying, “From the tone of that bell, I’d say the ringer means it as a warning—you’d better eat or else. Now.”

  Before they went downstairs Karen made a valiant attempt to do what she could to appear fresh and neat despite the lack of a brush and having to wear the same clothes she’d slept in.

  The breakfast, served in three courses, was so delicious it was almost but not quite worth forgoing what the bell had interrupted—but then, she hadn’t had anything to eat since the previous noon. She was so hungry she didn’t even try to make polite conversation with the other six guests at the table.

  The owner, whose name was Mrs. Haven, beamed at Karen and Zed as they left the table. “The best praise of a cook is an empty plate,” she said when Karen complimented her on the food.

  “We’ll be staying another night,” Zed said. “Possibly two or more, depending on when the doctors decide to release Danny.”

  At his words, the penny dropped and Karen realized exactly what she’d tacitly agreed to in her bemused state upstairs. They’d be in the same room, sharing the same bed, and Zed couldn’t be expected to sleep on top of the covers again. A thrill shot through her at the image that evoked.

  Mrs. Haven’s smile faded. “I do hope your son improves rapidly. You seem to be such a nice young couple.”

  Deciding there was no point in trying to straighten things out, Karen merely thanked her for her concern. After all, they might not be husband and wife, as Mrs. Haven assumed, but they were a couple, temporary though it might be. And Danny might not be Zed’s son but in every way that counted, he was hers.

  At the hospital she couldn’t wait to get to Danny’s room, berating herself for stopping to eat. She should have rushed right over here the moment she awoke. He needed her—if he was awake he’d be miserable at finding himself among strangers. The poor sweetie didn’t even have his beloved blue horse to console him.

  She rushed into his room ahead of Zed and stopped short, staring at the scene in front of her. A nurse sat in a rocker beside the crib holding Danny on her lap while he contentedly sucked on a bottle. Though the bruise over his left forehead and temple had spread so that he had a black eye, he didn’t seem to be in pain. Zed, meanwhile, walked past her, halting beside the rocker and crouching down to Danny’s level.

  “Hi, Tiger,” he said. “You look like a prizefighter who got the worst of it.”

  Danny focused on him, pushing the nipple from his mouth and trying to reach toward him. The nurse handed the boy to Zed, who settled him into the crook of his arm. “Look,” he said, turning Danny toward where she still stood, “there’s Mama.”

  “Ma,” Danny said, holding out his arms to her.

  Tears filled Karen’s eyes as she took him from Zed, holding Danny to her, trying not to hug him too tightly. “Thank God,” she whispered, too full of emotion to speak.

  Later, as she walked around carrying Danny, she watched him smile at the nurse who’d been holding him. “Ga,” he said to the nurse. “Ga, ga.”

  “My name’s Georgia,” she told Karen. “I said my name to him four or five times while I was bathing and feeding him this morning and, after we got to know each other, he began babbling, saying ‘Ga ga.’ I know at seven months he’s probably too young to direct his verbal skills, but I like to think he’s trying to say my name. He’s a real doll.”

  Karen talked to Georgia for a few minutes, belatedly noticing that Zed had slipped from the room. No doubt for more coffee—he was a real caffeine fiend.

  “How do you convince a man who’s into caffeine to ease up?” she asked the nurse.

  “Nothing worked for me at first,” Georgia told her. “My husband ignored all the statistics and so on. So what I finally resorted to was to dilute his coffee with decaf while it was still unbrewed in the can—stir it well and you can’t see any difference. I used just a little decaf at first and, when he didn’t seem to notice, gradually increased it. I’m up to half and half now. I know it’s sneaky, but if he won’t watch his health, I darn well will.”

  Clever but, even if she had the chance, Karen doubted that Zed would appreciate being hoodwinked. And, of course, she would never have the chance if she did decide to try Georgia’s method.

  Zed, drawn to ICU as though by invisible threads, took a deep breath before entering the 5A cubicle. He stepped to the bed. Talal looked much as he had early this morning, lying still with closed eyes, hooked up to various devices, his left leg in a cast.

  “Talal?” Zed said softly.

  The injured man’s eyes opened and he blinked.

  “Zeid!” he exclaimed. “Was it your blood they gave me?”

  Staggered anew by hearing Talal say his name, Zed managed a feeble “Yes.”

  “No matter what they told me as a child,” Talal said, “I knew Zeid was real. I knew you were real.” He shifted position, grimacing as though moving was painful. “How did you find me?”

  “What do you mean, I was real?” Zed demanded, shocked from his bemusement.

  Talal was silent for a long moment. “You didn’t, remember at all, did you?” He sp
oke sadly.

  The vision of sand and a ball flashed before Zed and, without thinking, he blurted, “A red ball. I remember that much and no more. The ball and sand.”

  “What you recall is Kholi. Our country is sand. And the ball was yours. Mine was yellow. I still have them both.”

  Zed leaned against the side rail of Talal’s bed. “I don’t understand.”

  “My friend, my brother, I am too tired to explain. You must tell me how, knowing nothing of me, you came to donate your blood to save my life.”

  “I donated the blood for Danny.” Zed paused abruptly. Whoever else Talal was, he was Danny’s father. How was he to explain the situation to a man not yet fully recovered from the surgery that had repaired his serious injuries?

  “Danny?” Talal echoed. Louie in San Diego had been right, Zed thought Talal spoke excellent English, with only a slight accent.

  Wondering how to word his explanation, he remembered advice of his grandmother’s. When Jade rattled on as a child, Grandma would say, “Begin at the beginning so I can understand what you’re talking about. The beginning is always the best place to start.” He’d start there.

  “You remember Erin Henderson?” he asked.

  Talal frowned. “Erin? Erin?”

  Zed didn’t believe he was faking. Either he really couldn’t place her or the boat accident had disturbed his memory. “She had red hair.”

  Talal’s face cleared. “Now I recall her. In San Diego we sailed together for a time.”

  Listening to his offhand words, Zed found himself convinced Talal hadn’t known about Erin’s pregnancy. Gazing down at his sunken eyes with the dark circles around them, Zed shook his head. The man was obviously very weak, in no condition to face what he had to tell him. “Look,” he said, “you’re not in the greatest shape. I’ll come back when you’ve had a chance to recuperate from the surgery.”

  “No!” The word snapped like a whip from Talal’s lips. “I’m not too ill to listen. I must know. You will tell me now.”

  Feeling a strange sense of déjû vu, as though Talal had commanded him before, Zed, against his better judgment, went on, condensing his explanation. “Apparently you and Erin were careless. She became pregnant. Danny is her son. Your son.”