From Here To Maternity

by Cheryl Anne Porter

  “Grant!” Laura shrieked. “Do something! Get it away from him!” Trapped by the breakfast bar and the steady jet of water, she raised her hands, trying to fend off a soaking.

  Suddenly remembering that he should be doing more than holding onto the perpetrator, Grant put his body in harm’s way. He threw himself between Laura and the jet of water. And got soaked for his efforts. Vivian jumped into the fray. She grabbed Tucker as Grant grabbed the hose, kinking it in one hand while with the other he furiously worked the spigots, finally getting the water shut off.

  And then, with a dripping Tucker in Vivian’s arms as she wrapped her dry bath towel around him, they all stood there in their varying degrees of wetness. And stared at each other. Then they started laughing. In ripples and waves that seemed to build on each other.

  Vivian, with Tucker firmly wrapped, plopped down on a bar stool with him. Laura slid down the kitchen wall, holding her stomach, laughing until she cried. Grant followed suit, sliding down the wood cabinets until he, too, sat in a pool of water and dollops of shampoo. His arms slung around his bent knees, he leaned his head to rest it against a cabinet door and gave in to the hilarity.

  After a while, they all began to quiet. Laura asked, “Mother, where’s Officer Hawkins?”

  “Oh, that nice young man? He’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Laura looked at Grant. He made a gofigure face at her. She grinned and turned to Vivian. “What did you say to him?”

  “The truth.”

  “Dear God.”

  “No, not that truth. The one you told me to say. Well, I would’ve, anyway. But he didn’t know anything about the baby. He was just letting you know that despite the snow, the situation is under control.”

  And that was even funnier. Under control? Again, they burst out laughing. A minute or so later, Laura said, “Grant?”

  He turned his head, looking her way. She looked terrible. Hair flattened and streaming. Clothes soaked. That damned towel pinned to her like a huge bib. And yet beautiful. She looked beautiful, too. He grinned. “Yeah?”

  “What in the world was so important that you had to say it right then?”

  “Forget it,” he told her. “I’m over it.”

  “No. Tell me. I want to hear.”

  Grant nodded. “All right. But just remember. You asked me.”

  With that, the room got quiet. Deathly—okay, curiously—so. What the hell, Grant decided. What did he care if Vivian heard it? She’d know sooner or later, anyway. He shrugged. “No big deal. I just wanted to tell you that I love you.”

  9

  LAURA DIDN’T KNOW what to think. Perhaps because she couldn’t. After all, a meteor had just been dropped on top of her. A big, fat, heavy meteor. From the outer reaches of the far-flung, uncharted heavens. With no advance warning. Okay, no real advance warning. Maybe a hint or two. But nothing more. And, boy, under these circumstances, did it ever make her mad. “You what?”

  Looking very unsure of himself, much as if he’d just realized he blurted, at a gathering of the Daughters of the American Revolution, that, Uh-huh, George Washington was, too, a liar, Grant turned away from her, looking to Vivian and Tucker. For help? But he wasn’t getting any reinforcement from that direction. Instead, they were…Laura swiped more water out of her eyes. Staring. With excitement? With happiness? Both?

  So, why aren’t I?

  Well, maybe, she defended herself, it was because she was tired, defeated and soaked. And sitting in a pool of water with her hair streaming in her eyes, a bath towel pinned around her neck and her life falling apart in front of her eyes. And the electrical power. Who knew when that would—It went off again. Well, I’ll be damned.

  Taking the darkness as an omen, Laura asked, “You what?” She looked into Grant’s amber eyes, willing him to answer before she lost her nerve. “What did you just say, Grant Leon Maguire?”

  He shrugged. “You mean, I love you? That?”

  Laura nodded. “Yeah, Grant. I meant that. What were you thinking?”

  He shrugged. “That I love you?”

  Laura crossed her arms over her sodden chest. “I could just pinch you.”

  “Why?”

  She shifted, causing her bedraggled ponytail to flop over her shoulder and, smack soggily against her cheek. “Why? You ask why? Because, you ninny, I’ve dreamed about this moment—”

  “You have? Does that mean you love me, too?”

  She swiped the ponytail away. “Of course I do. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I wanted candlelight and dinner and music, darn you.” She pulled herself up, gesturing out imaginary scenes. “And I had on this long black dress, and my hair was up. And you were in a tuxedo. Or—or maybe I just saw you one day on the street. By chance. And our eyes met—”

  “They did?”

  “Yes. And you took one look at me and swept me up in your arms, saying you’d been wrong and you couldn’t live another day without me—”

  “I can’t.”

  “I know. Or another time—”

  “There were other times?”

  “Yes. Another time I was in a bookstore and I moved this book aside on a really tall shelf and—”

  “There I was. On the other side.”

  “Yeah. And there you were. On the other side. And you said, ‘Laura!’ Like you were glad to see me.”

  “I’m sure I was.”

  “You were. And we had coffee, and—”

  “I hope not one of those fancy mochalatta frangipani things. I hate those.”

  “No. The real kind. Like you like. And we talked and talked—”

  “About what?”

  “I don’t know. Stuff. Our lives, I guess. And about how successful we’d become.” She stopped, wiping away the tears that streamed down her cheeks. “And about how empty our lives were—”

  “Without each other?”

  “Yeah. And—”

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you now, Laura.”

  “I know. And—” Finally—finally!—she stopped herself. And heard him. Everything he’d said. She wiped her eyes, realizing she’d at some point come to her feet. And so had he. “What?” she asked, feeling very vulnerable. And warm. And giddy.

  He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets. “Everything you just said.”

  Laura slowly shook her head. “No. Not like that Say it again.”

  Grant pivoted enough to see Vivian and Tucker, grinning to beat the band, and then turned to Laura. “I don’t want to.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because you…yelled at me about it.”

  “I did not.”

  “Did, too.”

  “I was not yelling.”

  “Were, too.”

  “I was not I’d think I’d know if I was yelling, Grant.”

  “You were yelling.” He turned, looking for witnesses. “Wasn’t she? She was yelling.”

  Nods. Conferring glances between them. “You were. You were yelling.”

  “Da-da.”

  “Sorry, honey. You were.”

  “Ma-ma.”

  “That’s what I heard.”

  “Butt.”

  Laura jerked a hand up. “Okay. I was yelling. But I meant it in a nice way.”

  “Good,” Vivian announced, getting up from the stool. “Because I’m going to go get dressed and take this baby outside for a while. It’s quit snowing. And babies love snow. So you two are on your own. Bye.” She scurried away, taking Tucker with her.

  Stunned by her mother’s hasty exit, Laura swung her attention to Grant and felt her insides melting. He loved her. She hadn’t been hearing things last night. He’d said it. And she wanted to hear him say it again. “I’m sorry, Grant. Really. Say it again, please? I promise I won’t yell.”

  Grant let out his breath and met Laura’s gaze. She saw the warm amber of his eyes go liquid. “I love you, Laura,” he said.

  She promptly burst into tears. And ran toward Grant. He grinned, and held his arms out to her
. But she jetted right past him and ran out of the room.

  DRIPPING WET, her clothes heavy and clinging to her skin, Laura stood in the guest bedroom, facing Grant, her back to the nightstand, the sleigh bed to her left.

  “What’s the matter, Laura? Was I wrong to say that I love you?” Grant made it a point to stay across the room from her, the closed door at his back, as if he weren’t sure he should approach her.

  Laura wiped her eyes and stared at the carpeted floor. She wasn’t even sure why she was behaving like a teenybopper. “No. You weren’t wrong, Grant,” she finally said in a low voice. “In fact, I’ve wanted—dreamed of hearing you say those things. It’s just that I…” She allowed her words to trail off. Because she didn’t know what to say next.

  “Is it because of ten years ago? You think I’ll bail again?”

  She’d thought it was. But she suddenly knew it wasn’t. She really was over it, his leaving her back then. So she was honestly able to say, “No. And no.”

  “Good. Because I won’t.” The silence stretched out between them. “Laura, will you please look at me? Help me understand.”

  Biting her bottom lip, she looked into the face of the only man she’d ever loved. And her heart melted. His hair was tousled, his clothes wet, his sleeves shoved up. And he was still the most beautiful person she’d ever known. His warmth, his understanding, his humor. Why couldn’t she talk to him? It was now or never. “I’m scared, Grant.”

  His amber eyes seared into her. “Good. So am I.”

  That surprised her. Frowning, Laura tilted her chin up. “You are?”

  “Hell, yes. I don’t know about you, but my life seems to be running on fast forward right now. Everything’s hitting at once.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, like my father’s heart condition—”

  That took the starch out of her. Dismissing her soaked condition, Laura sat on the bed. She put a hand to her chest, over her own heart. “Oh, Grant. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

  He exhaled sharply and sat next to her, leaning forward, his elbows braced on his thighs, his hands folded and dangling between his knees. He talked to the carpet. “We just found out ourselves. It’s not too bad. Yet. It’s one of those ‘you better take it easy’ things. But it means I have to take control of the family money. Now.”

  “Oh,” Laura said automatically. Then the implications hit her. “Oh. Wow. So you don’t work for the Tucker Company anymore?”

  “No. Not as of yesterday. Which is why I’ve been hot on your trail. I had to find you. Because once I take over…Hell, I won’t even have time to eat for about six months.” He looked at her. Seriously. “And I wasn’t about to lose you again, Laura. Not if it was in my power. Not if you…felt the same way about me.”

  Laura grinned, warmed by the intimacy of talking things out This, more than anything else, was what they needed to do. And bless Vivian for knowing it and for giving them the time and the space. And bless Grant for what he’d just said. “So, you wanted me—what? In place in your life before you took over?”

  A chuckle escaped him. “That sounds cold, doesn’t it? But, yeah, something like that. Hell, I would have done anything, Laura. I just knew I had to see you. Touch you. It’s like I was driven.”

  Laura slid her hand to Grant’s thigh. “Good. I like that.”

  He sat up some, covered her hand with his. “You do, huh? But let me tell you, finally seeing you didn’t come a minute too soon. Because I was supposed to sign all the papers yesterday—”

  “Ah. Your noon meeting. But then the snowstorm of the century hit—”

  “And it got canceled until next week. And of course, Tucker was already here. And Officer Hawkins and Ms. Gibson. And then Vivian. And my folks.”

  Stiffening, Laura gasped. “Oh, Grant—your folks. They’re here in town. I forgot about them.” Her next realization shook her optimism. “Aren’t they going to be thrilled with this little turn of events?”

  Grant held her gaze. “You mean about you?”

  “Oh, yeah, Maguire. About me.”

  Grant took her other hand. “Laura, I don’t care what they think. I’m thirty-two years old. I don’t answer to them. I love you. I will always love you. I know that now. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you—” Laura’s heart darned near pounded out of her chest. “—if you’ll have me. But I can’t believe that ten years hasn’t made a difference for my parents. If they can’t accept this, you, then the hell with them.”

  Laura jerked her hands away and stood up. “Damn you, Grant Maguire. You don’t even let me enjoy what should be the happiest moment of my life.”

  Grant pulled back, looking really lost. “What? I swear, every time I say how much I love you, I get yelled at. Or you break out in tears. Or go to sleep on me. I don’t know what to do here.”

  So he did say I love you last night. Laura stored that in her heart and continued. “It has nothing to do with your loving me. It’s about your folks. Are you just going to lay all this—me—on them and maybe kill your father? Like I want to live with that.”

  Grant shook his head, chuckling. “I hardly think it’ll be that big a shock. Remember, they already know I’m here.”

  That stopped her. “Oh. Right. So…what do they think about that?”

  Grant ran a hand through his sandy-blond hair. “I don’t know. I didn’t ask them. I’m more concerned about you. And what you feel. For me. And about Tucker.”

  Laura sat down. “Oh. Tucker.”

  “I know. What are we going to do about him, Laura? Damn, I love that little kid. How did that happen? I’m not big on babies. But he’s different. And, you know, I really want to help him out whether he’s with us or not. I’ve got all kinds of money. There’s got to be something I can do.”

  Laura leaned her head against Grant’s shoulder. “I know. I love him, too.” She stared at Grant. “You don’t mean…buy him, do you?”

  Grant gave her a startled look. “No. Oh, hell, no. I meant…help him. Help his mother, his father. Somehow. I have an idea and want to talk with Ms. Gibson about it. But—and I know this sounds crazy—I’m not sure he has parents out there, Laura. I really think he’s ours.”

  Could it actually be that he’d felt the same things she had? Laura hit Grant’s arm. “Shut up. I know exactly what you mean. I fell in love with that kid the first minute I saw him. And you know me with kids. It’s as if there’s a big international symbol for No right across them for me. But it’s like you said in the taxi last night. He knows stuff. It’s as if he’s here to bring us together.” She sighed, slumping against him. “Oh, Grant. You’re right It’s all hitting right now. What should we do first?”

  Grant edged his shoulder up, bumping Laura, getting her attention. She sat up and saw “that look” on his face. A thrill raced through her, but she couldn’t believe it. “Are you serious? I don’t think so.”

  “I do.” He leaned toward her, bracing his hand on the bed behind her. Which put him right in her face. “Why shouldn’t we?”

  Although she was completely titillated and starting to tingle in all the good places, she pulled back. “Because, Grant. Seriously.”

  He nuzzled her earlobe, traced nipping kisses down her neck. “I am serious,” he said in a low, husky voice. “I’ve never been more serious in my life. We need to settle things between us first. Then maybe the rest will fall into place. So tell me you love me. Tell me you want me. For always.”

  Barely able to catch her breath, so very aware, in a way she never had been before, that her neck was most definitely an erogenous zone, Laura fought for words. “I love you,” she whispered. “I want you. For always.”

  Grant slipped off the bed, knelt in front of her on the floor and wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her, wet clothes and all, his head against her heart. “Tell me you’ll always be mine.”

  Laura embraced him, running her fingers through his hair. She cupped his jaw with her hands, tilting his head un
til she could see those black-lashed amber eyes of his. “I will be yours forever. I always have been.”

  Grant’s wide grin narrowed his eyes, tilted them at the corners. He nodded, seeming to stare right into her soul. “Good. Then let’s get naked.”

  With that, he jumped up and began peeling off his clothes. Despite the clinging wetness that fought him at every turn, he was tearing them off at a speed that was almost comical. Laura couldn’t help laughing at him. Until he stopped, half-dressed, and stared at her. “What’s so funny?”

  Without giving her a chance to respond, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her more-than-willing self up. And began helping her disrobe. It was no easy task, given the soaked and stretching condition of their clothing. But before too much was exposed, Laura gasped and stopped Grant’s manic striptease. He frowned. “What?”

  “I just thought of something.”

  “No. Don’t tell me we’re out of condoms. I’ll shoot myself—”

  Laura hit him. “No. Not that. I just thought of something I hate.”

  “Oh.” He tried again to tug her sweatshirt off. “Well, tell me what it is, and I won’t do it.”

  Again grabbing his wandering hands, Laura stared at him. “No. Not that. Not sex things.”

  “Then what?”

  “The paparazzi. I hate them.”

  “Then we agree. Because so do I.” His hands went to work again. He dove for her jeans.

  Again Laura stopped him. “Grant. I am serious. They’ll be crawling all over us, won’t they? Once it’s known we’re an item.”

  Grant gave up. He decided to get back to his own clothes. “Yes, they will. I wish it could be different. But…welcome to my world. After a while, you don’t even notice them. They’re like gnats. Or mosquitoes.” His zipper seemed to be stuck. Grant’s knuckles turned white with effort. He stopped, put his hands to his waist and stared at her, his face like granite. “You know what? I’m about over this.”

  And suddenly, all their problems aside, Laura thought that would be a tremendous shame. Quite wantonly, she stepped up to him, grabbed him by his waistband and pulled him against her. “Here. Let me try.” She lowered her hand to his fly and cupped his…