by Tamie Dearen
“No. Please don’t,” Shara pleaded.
She waited for signs of disgust or condemnation, but saw none. Instead, tears tumbled down Mandy’s face. “Your dad doesn’t know you’re pregnant?”
She shook her head, wincing as another intense cramp hit.
“And the father?”
“He doesn’t know, either. I was planning to tell him tonight. I guess I won’t bother.”
Mandy knelt beside her, face wet with tears. “Shara, you have to tell him. He deserves to know. I’m sorry to lay more on you at a time like this, but I know how Mack would feel.”
The cell phone rang as Dr. Garcia returned her call. After relaying the details—bleeding, nausea, cramping—she asked the question she was afraid to have answered. “Am I losing the baby?”
“I can’t diagnose you over the phone. You need to go to the emergency room. I’ll phone ahead with instructions.”
“But Dr. Garcia, I need to know. How likely is it I’ll lose the baby?”
“All I can say is it’s possible. We won’t know until we do an exam.”
Shara disconnected and tried some deep breathing to calm her racing heart.
“I’ll get Mack. I’ll make some excuse to leave early, and we’ll drive you to the hospital. No one will question, since we obviously hit it off at dinner. Can you make it to the car?”
“I’ll make it. Would you mind driving my car and taking Fez with you? I’ll call my friend to meet us at the hospital and take him home with her.”
“Of course. We could even take him home with us, if we need to. We’ve been thinking about getting a puppy. We thought... you know... it would take our mind off losing the baby.”
Shara’s throat constricted. “I’m so sorry to do this to you. You’re trying to forget about it, and you’re having to live it all over again with me.”
“Maybe you won’t lose the baby, Shara. That would give me hope.” A few tears slipped out before she whisked them away with her sleeve.
Mandy slipped into the den to make her announcement while Shara called Noelle. She answered on the fourth ring, with laughter rolling in the background.
“Hey, Shara! Merry Christmas!”
“Noelle, I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m hoping you can meet me at the emergency room and pick up Fezzik and take him home tonight.”
“Why?” she cried. “What happened? Why are you at the emergency room?”
“I’m not there yet. I’m leaving Dad’s house in about five minutes. I don’t know for sure, but I think I’m having a miscarriage.”
“Oh no! I’m so sorry. I’m coming, Shara. I’m coming right now.”
“Noelle, is James there?”
“Yes, he’s in the other room. Do you want to talk to him?” She made a gasping sound. “Shara! You haven’t told him yet, have you? That’s why you called me and not him. He was so quiet today, I thought you must’ve told him Friday night.”
“I was planning to do it tonight when James came over after dinner.”
“This is terrible.”
“I know, but I’m going to make it right. Get James to come to the hospital. You can tell him I’m having stomach problems, because it’s true. When we’re alone, I’ll tell him everything.”
“He’s going to feel so terrible. I wish you’d told him before.”
“I know. It’s my own fault.” Everything was her fault. She disconnected the call and climbed to her feet, making a mental list of items she needed to pack up. Fortunately, she’d never taken Fezzik’s crate out of the car, so the list was short. Another cramp hit, doubling her over and making her mouth salivate with renewed queasiness. She mumbled to herself, “I hope he yells at me. It would make me feel better.”
He would probably never speak to her again, once he found she’d been hiding the pregnancy. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about answering a marriage proposal.
Chapter Sixteen
James tried not to speed on the way to the hospital, but his foot had a mind of its own. He took the first parking place he could find and sprinted to the emergency room door. Though he’d made good time, Shara’s dad lived much closer to the hospital, so he wasn’t surprised she’d already gone into the treatment area.
He fired off a text and got a quick response, giving him permission to come to her in the back. The nurse buzzed him in, and he wandered through the maze of doorways, searching for room twenty-two.
When he opened the door, he found her lying on a hospital bed, curled on her side. She attempted a feeble smile as he entered, and his heart filled with emotion. As he bent to kiss her cheek, he noticed a movement from the corner of his eye. He jumped back, thinking it was a nurse. But the interloper was none other than Sam MacDonald.
James sent him a glare, tamping back his jealous rage, for Shara’s sake. The fog began to clear, as he realized the truth that had been staring him in the face. Shara and Sam still prayed together. Sam, not James, had been invited to Christmas dinner. Sam, not James, had driven her to the hospital.
“Hey, Shara,” said Sam, moving where she could see his face without shifting positions. “I’m leaving now. If you need anything at all, you know you can call. I’ll make sure Noelle gets Fezzik tonight. But if you need help with him after that, he’s welcome at my place. Okay?”
Her nod of consent was swallowed up in a groan of pain. Sam turned to James and stuck out his hand, as if James would be interested in a friendly shake. Not to be rude, James accepted, but put enough force in his grip to show Sam who was boss. James felt a bit of satisfaction when Sam’s eyes widened and his hand jerked back, shaking as if he needed to realign the bones.
When Sam was gone, James pulled a chair close and sat facing Shara. He’d been so excited when she invited him over on Christmas Day. But now, his gut told him the reason he’d been invited to her apartment after dinner, the reason she called him to meet her at the hospital, was to break up, once and for all. He’d seen his competition, however, and he wasn’t about to roll over and play dead. If Sam wanted her, he would have to fight for her. She might believe she had more in common with Sam, but no one loved her like James did. And maybe Sam was a better Christian, but James was secretly committed to Christ, and his last name was Christian. That had to count for something.
He scooped up her hand and kissed her fingertips.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Hey. Thanks for coming.” Her words were weak and wobbly.
“Did they give you something for pain?”
She nodded, blinking slowly. “James, I have to tell you something.” Her eyes filled with tears. He braced himself for the inevitable, not that it mattered. He had no intention of giving up, no matter what she said.
He held a finger up in front of her face. “Before you make your announcement, I want to state, for the record, I love you with all my heart.” He blew air out between pursed lips. “Whew! Feels good to get that off my chest. Now... what do you want to say?”
Her eyes were huge and round, like she’d just heard about a nuclear bomb. “Did someone tell you to say that?”
“Huh? What are you talking about? Nobody tells me what to say.”
Her lips smiled for a brief second, but then her face cracked. “James, please don’t be mad at me.”
“I won’t be. Whatever you’ve got to say, please say it.”
Her eyes squeezed tight. “I’m pregnant. I’m about twelve weeks along. And I’m probably having a miscarriage.”
His mouth went dry... so dry his tongue felt like cracked sand. His mind raced with the implications. He finally understood why she was breaking up with him.
He took a huge breath, filling his lungs and letting his chest expand. “Okay... who’s the father?”
“PLEASE TELL ME YOU didn’t really ask that question.” Noelle pinched the bridge of her nose as if James had given her the worst possible headache. “Of course you’re the dad, you duffle-head.”
“Then why didn’t she tell me? All she did was point her finger
at the door and say ‘Get out.’ If she had nothing to hide, why didn’t she tell me?”
“You’re lucky she didn’t give you a different finger. Are you trying to get out of your responsibility? Who else would the father be?”
“I doubt you know him. It’s this dude named Sam.”
Noelle squeezed her lids shut and rolled her eyes up, showing him the whites as if he’d killed her. “Oh. My. Gosh. Are you talking about Sam MacDonald? The guy who drove her up here?”
“Yes.” He lifted his chin, partially vindicated. “Shara and Sam are pretty cozy.”
“That’s interesting.” Her words had two scoops of sarcasm with a cherry on top. “I had a long conversation with Sam and his wife in the parking lot.”
“Wife? But—”
“Yes, his wife, Mandy, was waiting in the car with Fez, since she drove the puppy here in Shara’s car. Sam and Mandy left, and David took Fez home.” She gave him a look of utter disgust. “It all sounds very sordid, doesn’t it?”
“Are you telling me that baby really is mine?” His intestines twisted into a pretzel, and he squeaked, “I’m going to be a father?”
“That’s right. Shara’s pregnant with your child, and when she needed you most you accused her of sleeping with another man. And tomorrow morning, you’re taking off for a weeklong frolic in New York City. Hope you have fun while Shara deals with a miscarriage.”
“That’s not fair. I didn’t know about the baby when I planned the New York trip.” He felt like he’d stuck his head in a wind tunnel. “Wait. How long have you known about the baby?”
“About as long as she’s known. In the neighborhood of four weeks.”
“She’s known all that time, and she told you, but didn’t bother to tell me?”
Noelle nodded, her jaw stiff. “I tried to talk her into telling you before. Of course, I never dreamed you would find some way to hurt her even more, accusing her of sleeping with another guy right after she slept with you.”
“I didn’t actually say that.” He felt sick to his stomach. He never meant to hurt her, yet he’d done it repeatedly.
“You certainly implied it.” Noelle’s angry expression wavered. “But now you look so miserable it’s hard not to feel sorry for you.” She gave a bitter chuckle. “You’d be so much better off if you didn’t speak at all.”
“Weird. That’s the same advice Mr. Holiday gave.”
Noelle stomped off to sit with Shara in the treatment room, leaving James behind. He stared at the clock on the wall, the old fashioned kind with moving hands. The second hand mocked him, moving twice as slow as normal, dragging out the time as he waited for news. He couldn’t leave yet, not knowing whether the baby would live or die.
A baby. I’m going to be a father. Unless Shara miscarries. He prayed. A real prayer, from the heart. There were no fancy words or religious phrases. Only the desperate plea of an earnest man.
“Please God, let our baby live.”
“WHAT DID HE SAY?” SHARA asked Noelle the moment she returned.
“I told him what the doctor said, that the baby’s okay but you have to take it easy. He was relieved.” Noelle plopped into the chair beside the bed. “And he asked me to apologize.”
“Ha! Why bother? In his opinion, I’m a horrible person. Don’t know why he cares what I think.”
“He feels about as low as a worm right now, and he looks absolutely miserable. I think he’d do anything to make it up to you.”
“Well, he did tell me he loved me,” she confided in a low voice, as if someone might be eavesdropping.
“Shut the front door! He actually said the words?”
“He did.” Shara twisted her fingers together. If only he’d told her that a few weeks ago, she’d probably be engaged right now. Timing is everything. “He was pretty sweet. Too bad he said it right before I told him I was pregnant and he asked who the father was.”
“Men are such idiots,” Noelle declared, with a wry grin.
“Totally.” Shara picked at a chip in her fingernail polish. “I don’t know if I’ve ever said thank you for being my friend. I know I wasn’t always nice to you, back when I thought all Christians were judgmental.”
“Once I got to know you, I realized how sweet you are. But you’ve changed a lot in the past year—your faith has really grown.”
“All because I’m trying to be like you.”
Noelle’s eyebrows took flight and landed high on her forehead. “Please don’t use me as your standard. I’m far, far, far from perfect. If you don’t believe me, ask my family.”
“You’re a lot better than me,” Shara insisted. “And you helped me a lot when you talked to me the other day and sent that song. I asked God to forgive me, and I feel a lot better. But it seems like cheating to take forgiveness if you don’t do anything to earn it.”
“It’s all about God loving you and wanting a relationship with you. Like David and me... When he hurts my feelings, I don’t make him earn my forgiveness. I want to forgive him and get back to a good relationship. That’s how it is with God.”
Noelle wedged her shoes off with her toes and twisted, propping her swollen feet on the edge of the bed.
“Oh my goodness!” Shara cried. “Your feet look terrible. You’ve got to go home, right now.”
“I’ll be fine. They’re like this all the time.” She waved off her comment. “The doctor says they’ll release you any time now, so I’m going to make sure you get home safe.”
“Is James gone?”
“He left after I gave him the news. I suppose he went home to pack for his big trip.” Noelle wiggled her sausage toes.
“Big trip?”
“You know, the interview in New York. He leaves in the morning.”
“Interview?”
Noelle’s lips formed a big “O” as round as her eyes. “He didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what? What’s going on?”
“James got a job offer in New York City with the top international accounting firm. He leaves in the morning, and he won’t be back for a week.”
Crushed, Shara turned her face away. Why hadn’t he told her?
Noelle commented, “I guess both of you were waiting until the last minute to share your big news. Didn’t work out so well...”
“He’s moving to New York?”
“Maybe he’ll change his mind, knowing you’re pregnant.”
Shara’s hopes crumbled to the ground. She remembered his remark on Friday when she told him she still wouldn’t marry him. “I understand, but I’m still your friend.”
She had turned down his proposal—looked him straight in the eye and told him no. It only made sense he would make plans that didn’t include her. He certainly wouldn’t have a contingency plan for a baby he didn’t anticipate.
“I’m happy for him,” Shara said. “He deserves it.”
What would she do, knowing she would truly be a single mom? There was only one possible answer. She would survive. She always had.
She reminded herself, my baby is alive. When her belly was cramping, threatening the pregnancy, she had promised God, if only He saved the baby, she would never ask for anything again. God had done His part. She had nothing to complain about. She wouldn’t ask for anything more.
Chapter Seventeen
“This will be your office.” Mark Davis waved at the tight cubicle on the fourth floor, where workers moved about like teeming ants. He continued to walk without pausing. “But don’t worry. You won’t be spending much time here. You’ll be traveling to all the exotic places—Paris, Zurich, Buenos Aires...”
“You left out Abilene and Toledo.”
Mark threw his head back in a hearty laugh, pounding James on the back. “You’re right. Some of the destinations are less glamorous. But when you’re here, your social calendar will make up for any dull assignments. You’ll be wining and dining all the clients when they come in town. The finest food. The trendiest clubs. Nothing but the best for our clients.�
��
James forced a smile on his face, ignoring the pounding behind his eyes. If yesterday was any indication, the entertainment portion of his responsibilities lasted late into the night, though he would still be expected at work by eight a.m. He’d enjoyed the food and drink, but found the conversation lacking in depth, though he gave no indication. In fact, the whole week he’d only met two people with whom he had anything in common, and both had worked for other companies.
Mark led the way to the elevator, pushing the button for the top floor. “I want you to see the office you’ll have when you earn your associate’s title. The views are spectacular.”
James nodded, falling back into deep thought. “Mark, can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“Why did you choose me for this job? I know you had hundreds of qualified applicants.”
Mark’s chest expanded with a huge breath. He let it out and leaned against the elevator wall, pressing the stop button. James had a strange feeling, like he’d asked the wrong question and in a minute a trap door would open beneath his feet, dumping him into the elevator shaft.
“James, I’m going to level with you. You’re smart and well qualified. You’ve got experience and stellar recommendations. You’re poised and confident, as well. But that’s not the only reason we’re offering you this job. It’s a tough and demanding position, with lots of travel. We need someone like you—someone with no family obligations. Someone who can be married to the job.” He pressed the floor button and the elevator began to move again. “Just for the next five years. Then your work will cut back to sixty hours a week, with all the perks and another substantial raise.”
The doors opened and they exited on a quiet hallway with rich, paneled walls. Mark smiled again, displaying perfect teeth. Why does his mouth remind me of a cobra? James followed him, marveling at the lush furnishings and extraordinary views of the city. He imagined his life here. Even if Shara agreed to marry him, she would be alone most of the time, struggling to raise their baby on her own.