“I’m not asking you anything, love,” Sara replied.
“And not only that,” he said with a rasping laugh. “I’m even asked to share my only daughter with her other father. What about him?”
“We’ll cope with it,” Sara said with determination. “We’ll deal with Tsung. Tsung’s no problem.”
Donna made a small sound.
“What? What did you say?” Evan asked.
“Nothing, Dad. Oh well, I was just going to mention that…uh…Raymond Tsung, that is, Mr. Tsung is someone I rather think you’d like. I mean if the situation weren’t…ah…if it weren’t this situation.”
“But it is ‘this situation,’ as you put it, so I rather think I won’t exactly enjoy meeting him. I…” He stopped almost in mid-word, his eyes following a young pregnant woman who was walking by with the passing crowd. She was pushing a stroller with a sleeping toddler in it. She looked exhausted.
Evan turned stiffly to Donna. “You aren’t…you aren’t…”
“Aren’t what, Daddy?” she asked blankly.
“Uh…” He gestured vaguely toward the receding back of the pregnant woman. “Pregnant?” he asked faintly.
He looked so horror-struck that Donna flung back her head and her laughter pealed out. “Oh, Daddy, no.” She put her arms around his neck. “Whatever gave you that idea?”
Sara was trying to hold back a smile.
Evan took Donna’s arms down. “What do you mean?” he asked, sounding like a testy old man, “whatever gave me that idea? Sudden decisions to marry have been made for that reason.”
She clung to his hand. “But, Dad, it isn’t a sudden decision—I’ve been working on it since I came down from Vancouver.”
“Do you have to put it like that?” Evan hunched his shoulders and shuddered slightly. “You sound so…so…”
“And it’s not going to be a sudden marriage, Evan,” Sara interposed as if he hadn’t spoken. “Donna has said they’d wait. Didn’t you say that, Donna?”
“Yes, Bruce and I have definitely—”
“Donna, nothing is definite,” Evan snapped, “if you and I mean the same thing by the word. Nothing will be definite one way or the other until I have talked with Fenton tomorrow. Is that clear?”
Donna sank back into her chair and looked at her father.
“I wish you wouldn’t call Bruce ‘Fenton,”’ she said in a small voice. “And you say it so…so meanly.”
“I feel mean, Donna. Can’t you understand that? How would you feel if you were in my place?”
Her eyes filled up with tears again. “Mean, I guess,” she admitted, swallowing hard.
“Look, we’re just going in circles,” Sara said, sounding unhappy and exasperated at the same time. “Let’s leave it until tomorrow. Until we talk with Bruce. Come on, let’s go on out to the Hunts’.”
“Oh, God, do we have to?” Evan slid down in his chair.
“Evan, what on earth do you mean? They’re our best friends! Of course we have to. We want to.”
“It’s just that they’ll want to talk about this mess and, oh hell—”
“That’s all right, Daddy,” Donna said, suddenly remembering her conversation with Laura. “I told Laura I was taking you out to eat, and then we’d be over later. They don’t expect to see you till tomorrow. And I mean I’ll take you out. I’m picking up the tab with money I earned myself.”
“We accept,” Sara said. “Don’t we accept, Evan?”
“Yes.” He gave Donna a smile. “The only thing is I’m afraid I can’t do your offer justice. I’m not exactly hungry at the moment.”
“Mom?” Donna asked anxiously.
“We could have something light, Evan.” There was a pleading note in her voice.
“Crepes?” Donna said with sudden inspiration. “I’ll take you to the Crepe Vine and we’ll have crepes—any kind you want. And I can afford the Crepe Vine without too much sweat.”
Evan stood up. “Okay,” he said, his lips twisting slightly. “Let’s all go push crepes around on our plates. It’s better than going out to the Hunts’ this early and trying to avoid talking about subject A. Okay, I’m sorry I said that.” He reached over to touch Donna’s face. “Don’t look so crestfallen. We’ll work it out somehow. I think.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LAURA HEARD THE BEDROOM door open, then Mark’s deliberate cough, but she didn’t turn around.
The door closed.
He was late. Hours late. Outside, the tree that almost touched the window reached its limbs like black arms into the moonlit sky. She huddled into a tighter ball on the window seat, folded her robe around her legs and rested her cheek on her knees.
“Sweetheart, you okay?” Mark spoke in a low voice as if he was afraid of startling her. “You’re ready for bed. Don’t you feel good?”
Poor Mark. He’d made his mistakes, but then, so had she. And she hadn’t been fair to him. A breeze slithered through the partly open window, and she shivered. She had to find the words to tell him her news, to make right what had gone so terribly wrong between them.
His hand, placed tentatively on her back, made her jump. “Laura, honey, we’ve got to talk. We can’t go on like this.”
“No.”
“Will you discuss it with me? Please don’t keep shutting me out. I stayed at the office trying to decide what to do, then I drove around. But all I wanted was to be with you. You and I can work it out, I know we can—if we just stop avoiding it.”
She glanced up at him, and her stomach contracted. He looked so tired. How long had he looked that way, drawn, dark shadows under the soft brown eyes she loved, eyes she could see whether he was with her or not?
“I don’t want to avoid it anymore either, Mark. I’ve been thinking the same things as you all day.” Sometimes she took him for granted, this arresting man with an aura that usually suggested total control. Mark was her rock, her best friend—and he had also been the most exciting lover a woman could dream of—until she’d drawn away from him.
He took off his suit jacket, pulled his unknotted tie from beneath his collar, and sat close to her feet on the dark green velvet seat. He bowed his head, holding the coat and tie on his knees, waiting.
“E.J.’s spending the night at your mother’s. She’s going to have him for a few days. I’ve got to tell you something, Mark.”
“Why did Irma decide to…what, Laura? What do you have to tell me?”
She tried to return her cheek to her knees, but he dropped the coat and slipped his hands quickly around her neck, held up her chin with his thumbs. “Something’s wrong. You’re sick! I knew—”
“I’m not sick.” Laura closed her eyes. “I’m just a little tired, that’s all. I was going to go to bed early. I’m very healthy.” Whatever she said, she knew he would still be angry and frightened when she told him her news, the way he had been whenever she’d tried to suggest having another baby.
He parted his lips, the expression in his eyes slowly changing. He released her and got up. “You don’t like me near you anymore, do you?” he said, and walked to the foot of their great, pillow-strewn bed. “We only make love when…when…don’t you want to be married to me any longer? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
In an instant, Laura was off the window seat and at Mark’s side. She grasped his tense biceps and urged him to face her. When he did, she reached up and kissed him swiftly and fully on the mouth. “I want to be married to you forever, Mark. You know that. I love you more than anything, more than my life. Irma’s taken E.J. because I asked her to, so that you and I can say what has to be said.”
He smiled, a small, tight smile that let her know he was still wary.
“Promise me…” Laura inhaled deeply, smoothing her palms over his chest. “Promise me you’ll hear me out and think before you say anything.”
His smile disappeared. He held her wrists. “Tell me.”
“And you’ll hear me out before you say anything?”
/> “Tell me.” He pushed her down gently on the edge of the bed and stood over her.
“First…” She lifted her chin and tried hard to swallow. “First, I saw the doctor again today, and he says I’m absolutely fine. There’s nothing to worry about, and no reason to believe that there will be. Do you understand?”
He sat down beside her with a thud, as if his legs wouldn’t support him. “You said you weren’t ill.” He held her hands so tightly that they hurt.
“I’m not, Mark. I’m well, and I feel great, physically.”
He frowned. “You didn’t go to a psychiatrist?”
“I went to an obstetrician.”
She held her breath and watched the slow dawn of understanding. His fingers dug even deeper into her flesh. “No, Laura. No! You aren’t pregnant.”
“Almost four months, Mark. The baby will be born early in January. I wasn’t sure—”
“No!” He’d stopped listening. “They said you shouldn’t have another baby. They said we were lucky with E.J., and then…” He stood up and strode back and forth in front of her, slamming a fist into his palm. “Then—the little boy. Our other little boy. They told me you almost died. You agreed we wouldn’t have any more children. Oh, Laura, I couldn’t stand it if you died.”
Tears ran from his staring eyes. She felt sick, desperately, mortally sick and for a moment, helpless.
“Mark,” she said and repeated, “Mark,” louder, and stood to stop him when he passed in front of her again. “I never agreed not to have more children. You decided for both of us. Sit down and listen.”
He only took her in his arms and held her in a viselike grip, murmuring incoherently into her hair. She circled his waist and hugged him back, crooning as she would to a child, willing him to be calm.
“You can’t have it,” he said abruptly. When she tried to tighten her grip, he held her away with one hand and smoothed back her hair with the other. “Now, listen,” he continued. “I understand how much you want another child. I do too. And when this is all over, we’ll look into adoption. Evan and Sara have Donna, and they all love each other.”
She tried to speak, but he shook his head vigorously. “Don’t say anything,” he said. “You’re so sweet, the sweetest. You’ve got so much love to give. I should have done something about this earlier, then it wouldn’t have come to this.”
Laura’s own knees wobbled. He hadn’t accused her of deliberately becoming pregnant. He didn’t have to, but he knew that was exactly what she’d done, and now she must make him listen and accept the truth.
“We’ll go and see this doctor together.” Mark spoke faster and faster. “Tomorrow, we’ll go. He’ll understand once he knows the whole story. Evan and Sara will be here, but they’ll be occupied dealing with Donna. They’ll probably be glad if we aren’t around for the day.”
Laura lifted her chin and looked directly into his eyes. “Stop it.”
“It’ll be all right once the doctor knows—”
“He knows. Sit down.”
He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “He can’t know.”
“He does, and he says everything’s going to be fine. When…when our other baby died, there was a lot of overreaction, Mark. Understandable. It was horrible. But Dr. Perris isn’t the kind who panics, or makes rash judgments. I was wrong to stop the pills without telling you. I’m sorry I did that. But I’m not sorry I’m pregnant.”
A film of sweat had broken out on Mark’s face. “I want you, Laura.” His voice broke. “We have E.J., and I couldn’t love a child more. I wish our other boy had lived. Sometimes I think about him just as I know you do. But I won’t give you up for another child. I won’t, I tell you. I can’t…”
“Okay, Mark. Now you’re going to listen. Sit.” He reluctantly let her guide him back to the edge of the bed. She was tired, very tired, but she knew she must finish this discussion. “I’ve told you the obstetrician is confident. He wouldn’t put his reputation on the line by saying he was if he wasn’t.”
“You should have told me.” He turned his back and hunched forward, hugging his chest. “You should have asked me, Laura. This wasn’t just your decision to make.”
She massaged his neck, and pressed her cheek against the smooth fabric of his white shirt. “Sweetheart. Your mind was made up four years ago. I have asked you—again and again. You wouldn’t discuss it. You wouldn’t even talk about it. I know that isn’t a good enough excuse for what I did. All I can do is say I love you and I want us to have another child so badly I don’t think about anything else anymore.”
Mark was still, silent.
“Dr. Perris will talk to you, Mark. He’ll talk to both of us, and then I’m sure you’ll stop worrying.”
“I’m scared.”
She had to take away the fear somehow. “Remember how it was when…when…what happened the last time?”
“Don’t! I don’t want to remember.”
She twisted him around. “And that’s the main problem. You won’t face exactly what happened and try to analyze it. You’re a logical man. When you’re in court you won’t allow people to evade issues.”
“We aren’t in court, and I’m not on the witness stand. There’s only one issue here—whether or not I’m prepared to risk losing my wife in order to gain another child. The answer is no. No, Laura.”
She inhaled slowly. “Wrong, Mark. That isn’t the issue. And even if it were, I’d still have this baby. I’m sorry if that hurts you, but this isn’t a decision you can make for both of us. A long time ago, you and I promised each other honesty, and I’ve been doing a lousy job lately. From here on there won’t be any more deception. This baby—our baby—is a part of us now, and he—or she—is alive inside my body. I want this child. And you will, too, if you’ll only relax and let yourself.”
He raked at his hair. “Where’s Donna? And Evan and Sara?”
“Not back yet,” she said impatiently, recognizing his clumsy attempt to buy time to think. “Evan and Sara’s flight wasn’t due in till nine. In case you’ve forgotten, they’ll have a lot to talk about. I told Donna to make her folks comfortable, and we’d see them in the morning.”
“We can’t do that. They’ll think something’s wrong.”
“Something is wrong. Damn it, Mark, will you stop slipping away from me?”
He stared at her for an instant before kicking off his shoes and stretching out on the bed, his hands behind his head.
“Something went wrong with my last delivery.”
He turned his face away.
“Dr. Perris went over the records with me. I shouldn’t have been allowed to continue in labor so long, Mark. The baby was presenting by the shoulder. He couldn’t be born vaginally.”
“The doctor said the baby wasn’t vertex, or head down…I don’t understand these things. He said he couldn’t get him turned properly.” Mark sounded remote now, factual.
“But the records show it was more complicated than that. A cesarean should have been performed.”
“It was.”
“But too late, Mark. Too late. The doctor waited too long, and that’s what probably killed the baby and almost killed me. There’s no absolute proof to substantiate a thing like that, but it seems logical, even to me.”
“What’s going to stop the same thing from happening again?”
Laura sat beside him and smoothed the backs of her fingers lightly over his jaw. “This time the cesarean will be scheduled. We’ll set a date and go get our baby. Mark, darling, this time there won’t be any problems—just another wonderful baby coming home afterward. And in the meantime I’m going to take the best care of myself. And I’m going to be happy, sweetheart—and I’m going to make sure you are too. That will be all I need to do a perfect job for you this time.”
He sat up and held her arms, then shook her. “The other time wasn’t your fault. And you aren’t on some sort of trial to do any kind of job for me. This is our baby. We’ll do a perfect job.”
L
aura couldn’t help smiling. Through a swimming film of tears, she smiled into Mark’s serious face. “We sure will.”
He swept the tears from her cheeks with his fingertips. “You’re devious, but I adore you, Laura Hunt. And you think I’m going to be a pussycat to deal with from here on out, but you’re wrong. I’m going to have more questions for your Dr. Perris than any doctor ever fielded. He’s going to feel as if he’s on the stand.”
“I’m not worried.” She laughed and sniffed. “He’ll tell you what he’s told me. I shouldn’t have waited so long to say all this.”
Mark looked at her critically. “You haven’t put on any weight.” He spread one broad hand over her stomach and raised his brows, then smiled. “Well, a little, I guess. Why didn’t I notice?”
“I’ve been sucking my stomach in.” She let out a noisy breath and pretended to slump. “What a relief. Roll out the muumuus.”
“I want you to knock off the volunteer work. And I don’t want to see you pulling and pushing in the garden. We’ll get some more help for the house—”
“Shhh,” Laura started to laugh and cry again. “I’m not planning on living like an invalid for months. I’ll do everything I normally do, only now I’ll do it better.”
“Better?”
“Because you’re with me again, Mark, really with me. You are, aren’t you? And it’s okay…about the baby?”
Mark felt tears in his own eyes. He touched her cheek. She’d never lost that ethereal quality he’d seen and been captured by years ago. How many years? It didn’t matter. The incorrigible girl smiling up at him from a blanket in a childhood garden—the garden outside their window now—the lovely young woman’s face emerging from clown makeup in a Seattle dressing room. In those moments and in so many more, he’d been captivated by Laura’s blue, blue eyes, the mass of shining dark hair, her soft, ready smile. His throat constricted. He couldn’t live without her, but he couldn’t deny her plea that he be with her, body and soul, in the months to come. He’d trust that the pregnancy would go smoothly, and above all, he’d make her happy for as much time as they were given together. He prayed silently for a long, long life with this lady.
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