0373659504 (R)

by Brenda Harlen

  Avery managed a smile. “Well, thanks for the heads-up about the gossip that’s not gossip.”

  The nurse smiled back. “Anytime.”

  “And your nephew?” she prompted.

  “He’s fabulous.” Callie opened the camera app on her phone. “Let me show you some pictures.”

  * * *

  Friday night, Avery was in Atlanta and Justin was alone at home, contemplating his dinner options. Because he didn’t have neatly labeled containers in his freezer, those options were pizza and Chinese, both of which he could have delivered to his door.

  He opted for a large pizza that would fulfill his requirements for dinner tonight and lunch the following the day. He’d just hung up the phone after placing his order when the buzzer sounded from downstairs.

  He knew it couldn’t be his pizza delivery already, and a quick glance at the lobby display made him frown. He picked up the phone again, answering the summons.

  “It’s Ryder Wallace—Avery’s brother.”

  Justin figured the man would show up somewhere, and he was grateful he hadn’t tracked him down at the hospital. Of course, it was probably out of deference to his sister that he’d avoided a showdown in that arena. No doubt she’d told him that she didn’t want anyone at work to know about her pregnancy yet—or the identity of her baby’s father at all.

  “Come on up,” he said, releasing the lock on the downstairs door.

  He’d never met Avery’s brother, but he’d seen him on TV. The guy seemed taller in person—about Justin’s own height, but broader. His shoulders seemed to fill the doorway, and the muscles in his arms confirmed that his job required him to wield tools much heavier than a scalpel or stethoscope. Not that he felt intimidated, exactly, but Ryder’s grim expression was hardly reassuring.

  “Are you going to invite me to come in?” he asked, when Justin continued to block the door.

  “It depends,” he said. “Are you planning to hit me?”

  Ryder shrugged his broad shoulders. “I thought we’d try talking first.”

  “Talking works for me,” Justin said, stepping back so Avery’s brother could enter. “Do you want something to drink?”

  “I wouldn’t say no to a beer.”

  He pulled a couple of bottles of his favorite microbrew from the fridge, twisted off the caps and handed one to the other man.

  Ryder glanced at the label, then lifted the bottle to his lips and sipped cautiously. “Not bad,” he decided.

  “Thanks, but I’m guessing you didn’t come over here to critique my beer selection.”

  “I didn’t,” he confirmed. “I’m here because Avery told me about the baby.”

  “I suspected as much,” Justin said.

  “My sister’s a smart woman,” Ryder noted. “She likes to gather facts and evidence before she decides on a course of action. She’s never careless or impulsive, so you can imagine how surprised I was when she told me that she was pregnant.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted.

  “I don’t know what your relationship is, and Avery would say it’s none of my business—”

  “I disagree,” he interjected. “She’s your sister and the child she’s carrying is your niece or nephew. It’s understandable that you’d be concerned.”

  “I am concerned,” Ryder said. “She thinks she’s prepared to do this on her own—from everything she’s said to me, she’s determined to do this on her own—but a child should have two parents.”

  “Our child will have two parents,” Justin assured him.

  “I’d be more convinced of that if you were planning to marry her.”

  “I am.”

  Ryder frowned. “Well, that was a lot easier than I expected.”

  “Easy?” Justin laughed. “It doesn’t matter that you and I are in agreement. Try convincing your sister—that’s the hard part.”

  “You’ve talked to her about this?”

  He nodded. “And she said she wants to get married someday—but not to me.”

  Ryder winced. “Sorry.”

  Justin shrugged. “I understand some of her reservations.”

  “If you met our parents, you’d understand a lot more.”

  “Maybe you could fill in some of the details for me,” he suggested.

  Ryder tipped the bottle to his lips again, considering what—or maybe how much—to say. “For starters, they got married in May and Avery was born in November the same year—and she wasn’t a preemie.”

  “So they got married because your mother was pregnant,” Justin acknowledged. “That’s hardly an unusual situation.”

  “You’re right. But the unplanned pregnancy forced them to detour from their plans. Whenever either of us would make the mistake of asking if they could attend a school activity or sporting event, Mom would remind us that she had to work to make up for the time she lost giving birth.”

  “And your dad?” Justin prompted.

  “He always said he would try to be there,” Ryder admitted. “Which made it even harder when he never showed up.”

  “It sounds like you had lousy parents,” Justin said. “But there are plenty of couples who manage to have successful careers and happy families.”

  “Sure,” the other man agreed. “But a doctor doesn’t punch a clock—people’s lives depend on them being available.”

  “But not every minute of every day,” he countered. “And I think that both Avery and I have been doing this long enough that we’ve found some necessary balance.”

  “Until a baby throws the scale out of whack.”

  “I’m confident that we can figure it out together.”

  Ryder tipped his bottle to his lips again. “You’re not at all what I expected when Avery told me about you.”

  “What did you expect?” he asked curiously.

  “I expected to want to hit you,” Ryder admitted. “But now, I actually think you could be good for her.”

  “If I can convince your sister to give me a chance.”

  “If you’ve got another beer, I might be persuaded to share some insights.”

  “I’ve got more beer and pizza coming.”

  Ryder grinned. “Now I’m really glad I stopped by.”

  * * *

  Avery had decided to attend the Spring Conference in Atlanta because the trip would also give her the opportunity to see both of her parents. Not that she expected either of them to adjust their own schedules to accommodate hers—and her mother did not disappoint in that regard.

  When Avery called to set up a time for Saturday, Cristina advised that she had a lunch meeting with a pharmaceutical rep at one o’clock, and then she was presenting a research paper on new vaccines that were in development for sexually transmitted diseases at four. She offered to squeeze out some time for Avery in between these commitments.

  At two-thirty, Avery was seated at the hotel bar, waiting. Her stomach was tangled in knots and her hands were clammy because, despite the fact that she was thirty-two years old, apparently she was still reluctant to disappoint her mother.

  The knots in her stomach tightened when her mother walked into the bar. Cristina air-kissed Avery’s cheek before sliding onto the vacant stool beside her daughter.

  “G&T, extra lime,” Cristina told the bartender.

  “I’ll have the same,” Avery said. “Hold the G.”

  Her mother frowned. “That’s just tonic.”

  “With lime.”

  “You said you wanted to meet for a drink,” she said, her tone disapproving of the fact that her expectations had not been met.

  Avery was all too familiar with that tone. “No, I said I wanted to meet for dinner,” she reminded her mother. “You said you didn’t have time for dinner but we could do drinks.”

  “Tonic water isn’t a drink.”

  “Well, gin isn’t good for the baby,” she said bluntly, unable to endure any more of her mother’s nitpicking.

  “The—” Cristina’s mouth dropped open. “You’re pregna
nt?”

  Avery nodded. “Yes, I am.”

  “How far along?”

  “Ten weeks.”

  Cristina immediately lifted the glass the bartender set down in front of her and took a healthy swig. “It’s not too late, then.”

  “Too late for what?” she asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. But she pushed the uneasiness away, because there was no way her mother was saying what she thought she was saying.

  “To terminate the pregnancy.”

  The blunt statement felt like a physical blow, but Avery lifted her own glass and sipped. Her throat was tight and her eyes burned, but she refused to give in to her emotions—refused to give Cristina that ammunition to use against her.

  “I don’t want to terminate the pregnancy,” she said, pleased that her voice was clear and calm.

  “You can’t honestly think that it’s a good idea to have a baby at this point in your life.”

  “I didn’t plan to get pregnant,” she acknowledged. “But I want this baby.”

  “Because you have no idea how demanding a child can be—especially an infant,” Cristina warned. “And you’re not married, so you won’t have any support system to help you through the long nights and other difficult times.”

  “I know there will be challenges, but Justin and I will figure it out,” she said, with more conviction than she felt.

  “He’s the father?” her mother guessed.

  “Yes, he’s the father.”

  “So you have a...relationship?”

  She nodded.

  “Are you planning to get married?” Cristina asked. “Or live together?”

  “We haven’t worked out all of the details yet.”

  Her mother sipped her drink. “Is he pressuring you to do this?”

  “What?”

  “Is he pressuring you to have the baby?”

  “No, Mom. This was my decision.”

  “Because I have a friend—she works at a private women’s clinic in Forest Park. I can give her a call and get you in to see her this weekend. Then you can go back to Karma and tell him that you lost the baby. Ten to twenty percent of women miscarry in their first trimester.”

  She drew in a slow breath and mentally counted to ten. “It’s Charisma,” she reminded her mother. “And I’m well aware of the statistics about miscarriages—and I want to have this baby.”

  Cristina lifted her glass again, frowning when she saw it was empty.

  “Can I get you a refill?” the bartender asked.

  “No,” Avery responded before Cristina could, because she didn’t want to prolong this painful encounter a single minute longer than necessary. Then, to her mother, she said, “I appreciate you squeezing in some time to see me, but I know you’re busy and anxious to get back to the conference.”

  “I do have to review my notes for the presentation,” Cristina acknowledged, taking out her wallet to pay for their drinks.

  Avery just nodded.

  “Think about what I said,” her mother advised, tucking the money under her glass. “I’m happy to make the call for you, if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” she promised. “But what is even more important, I won’t ever let my child doubt that she was both wanted and loved from the minute I learned of her existence.”

  * * *

  After meeting with her mother, Avery took off her conference badge, tucked it into her bag and headed up to her room on the eighth floor.

  Her mother’s reaction to the news didn’t just bother her—it worried her. Cristina Tobin was the only example of a mother Avery had ever had. Anything she thought she knew about parenting had been learned from her own parents, and neither of them had been the warm, fuzzy type.

  Justin’s family was different. Even in her limited interactions with them, she could tell that much. She could tell even more by the way he talked about them—the easy but unmistakable affection in his voice. And it wasn’t just his parents and his brothers that he was close to. When he talked about his family, he meant all of his aunts, uncles and cousins, too. Even his half sister.

  There were still a lot of months before their baby would be born, but she realized that she no longer wanted him to lose interest. Instead, she was hoping his family could be an example that she and Justin might emulate for their child, because she had no intention of basing her parenting style on her own family.

  Thinking about Justin now, she impulsively pulled her cell phone out of her purse and called his number. He answered on the second ring and the sound of his voice, so strong and familiar, brought tears to her eyes. And because no one was around to see, she didn’t worry about holding them back.

  “Avery? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong,” she lied. “I just...I wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Then I’m glad you called,” he said. “How’s the conference?”

  She swiped at the tears that spilled onto her cheeks. “It’s good.”

  “That doesn’t sound very convincing,” he said gently.

  “I was just thinking...and wondering...do you...do you think we’re doing the right thing?”

  “About what?”

  “The baby.”

  He was silent for a minute. “Well, I’d prefer if we got married—”

  “No,” she said. “I mean...do you wish I had taken the morning-after pill?”

  “No,” he said, his immediate and vehement response soothing some of her anxiety. “Maybe in the beginning, before we knew that you were pregnant, I might have thought that was the right choice. But now, I’m so glad that you didn’t. I want this baby—our baby.”

  The tears were falling in earnest now.

  “What’s this about?” he asked.

  “I saw my mother today and told her that I was pregnant,” she admitted.

  “And she didn’t respond well to the news,” he guessed.

  “She told me...” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “She told me that it wasn’t...too late...to terminate my pregnancy.”

  “Tell me you’re joking.”

  She shook her head, though she knew he couldn’t see her. It was all she could manage without sobbing.

  “Avery?” he prompted.

  “I’m not joking,” she told him. “She said that I have no idea how—” she drew in a shuddering breath “—how difficult it will be to juggle the demands of a baby with my career.”

  “It won’t be easy,” he agreed. “But I know we can do it.”

  We can do it.

  The words, combined with his unwavering conviction, helped steady her. She only wished he was there with her so she could feel the solid warmth of his arms around her and not feel so alone. But that, of course, was the danger she was fighting against—needing him, relying on him, loving him.

  “Please tell me you’re not considering what she suggested,” he pleaded.

  “I’m not,” she told him. “Of course not.”

  “Good.”

  “You really do want this baby?”

  “More than I ever thought I would,” he admitted. “And more and more every day.”

  And me? She wanted to ask.

  But, of course, she didn’t. Because she had no idea what his answer might be, and she wasn’t prepared to open herself up for yet another rejection.

  They talked awhile longer and she felt a lot better about everything when she finally disconnected the call. Not good enough to want to go back downstairs and risk running into her mother again, but better.

  Though it was only four o’clock, she took a shower, put on her pajamas, fell asleep on top of the covers and woke up three hours later to realize it was past dinnertime and she was hungry. She ordered room service, then booted up her computer to look at changing her return flight to Charisma. She’d originally planned to see her father for brunch the following day, but she wasn’t sure she could deal with a second round of what she’d gone through with her mother.

  Maybe t
hat wasn’t fair. Maybe her father would be more supportive of her choices. She honestly didn’t know, and that alone said everything about their relationship.

  And now that the insult wasn’t quite so fresh, Avery found it interesting that Cristina didn’t believe her daughter would be able to balance her career with the responsibilities of a child. Because, as far as Avery could tell, neither of her parents had ever really tried to do so, preferring to work longer hours to pay someone else to raise their children.

  A knock sounded at the door, dragging her attention away from those unhappy memories. Her stomach growled in anticipation of her dinner, but when she opened the door it wasn’t room service on the other side.

  It was Justin.

  Chapter Fourteen

  It seemed like forever that she just stood there, staring at him. Certainly it was long enough for Justin to question the wisdom of rearranging his schedule and hopping on a plane just because she’d called and he thought she might need him.

  “I was in the neighborhood,” he began, and her lips curved, just a little.

  It wasn’t even really a smile, but it was all he needed to be glad that he’d made the trip.

  “Are you going to let me come in?” he asked.

  “I was waiting for the rest of the story—” she stepped away from the door, gesturing for him to enter “—about why you were in the neighborhood.”

  “Because I needed to see you,” he admitted, setting his overnight bag inside the door. “To be sure that you were okay.”

  The warmth in her eyes dimmed a little. “You thought I was going to do it.”

  “Do what?” he asked, baffled by the accusatory tone.

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Get rid of our baby.”

  “No, I didn’t.” He stroked his hands down her arms. “I promise you, Avery, the possibility never even crossed my mind.”

  “It didn’t?” she asked uncertainly.

  “Of course not,” he told her. “There may be a lot I still don’t know about you, but I know you want our baby as much as I do.”