Make Room for Baby

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Make Room for Baby Page 14

by Cathy Gillen Thacker


  “Oh.”

  Abby peered at him curiously. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a cramp!” she said.

  “Never.” Tad shrugged. “Sorry.”

  Abby grinned and resumed rubbing her calf. “You really thought I was dancing?”

  Tad grasped her leg and took over the rubbing for her. “Babe, I didn’t know what to think,” he drawled.

  Tears of hilarity streamed down her face anew. When Abby could finally breathe again, she said, “That was so funny when you started dancing, too. You looked like some jungle tribesman, doing a dance around a fire.”

  Tad shrugged, tacitly admitting that was the look he’d been aiming for. “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, didn’t you know?”

  Abby rolled her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

  “So you’ve said.”

  Silence fell between them, comfortable and affectionate. “Well,” Tad said finally, “I’m awake. Wide awake.”

  “Me, too.” Abby sighed, wondering just how long it was going to take them to get back to sleep.

  Tad tucked her hand in his, lifted it to his lips, and kissed it gently. “Want to go downstairs and get some milk?”

  Abby ignored the tingles. “I’ll get it,” she said. After all, he’d done so much for her.

  Tad shook his head. “Stay right here. I’ll bring it up.” He returned with a tray of two glasses of milk and two pieces of chocolate cake Aunt Sadie had made for them.

  Abby sighed. “We shouldn’t be eating something that rich this time of night.”

  He waggled his eyebrows at her. “We shouldn’t be doing a lot of things. That never stopped us before.”

  Abby laughed softly. Tad was so much fun. If he ever left her, she would miss him terribly. “That’s true,” she said ruefully as bittersweet melancholy overcame her.

  “Hey now, you don’t have to worry about your weight,” Tad chided gallantly, misinterpreting the reason behind her swiftly shifting emotions. “You’re right on track. The doctor said so. Besides, that dance you just did worked off a lot of calories. And I know a way to work off a few more.”

  “I know you do, sailor. But first things first...” Right now she had a mean craving for chocolate cake.

  They sat back against the pillows and munched on their cake. “It’s amazing, isn’t it,” Tad said, “how much our lives have changed since last April?”

  Abby nodded. She sipped her milk and looked into his eyes. “To tell you the truth, as much as I wanted to have a child someday, I never really saw myself as a wife or a mom.”

  Tad’s glance softened. “I never saw myself as a dad, either.”

  “But we’re doing it, aren’t we?” Abby beamed. “Becoming parents.”

  Tad nodded.

  They fell into a thoughtful silence once more.

  “It wasn’t that I didn’t want a home and family of my own,” Abby said at last. “I did. I just thought it would never happen.”

  Again Tad nodded, understanding completely. “I know what you mean. Until you and I eloped I never even came close to marrying anyone.”

  “I know in the beginning it was just fireworks that brought us together. We really didn’t know all that much about each other in Paris.” And in some respects, Abby thought, knowing Tad still hadn’t told her anything at all about his life in Houston, they still didn’t.

  “Now it’s different,” Tad said. “Now we’re...”

  “Friends,” Abby finished.

  “Great friends,” Tad amended.

  They forked up the last of their cake. “Do you think it’s just the baby and the newspaper making us so close?” Abby asked.

  “What do you mean?” Tad put his plate aside.

  Abby shrugged. “We’re sort of like two survivors of a shipwreck on a desert island,” she said, suddenly feeling brave enough to face at least a few of her fears and voice them. “And that, in turn, sort of makes me wonder,” she continued, carefully gauging his reaction. “When things return to normal, meaning the paper gets on solid ground and the baby is born and we get used to being parents and all that.” Abby swallowed hard and forced herself to keep meeting his eyes and go on. “When things settle down again, do you think we’ll feel less close or grow apart?” The way her parents always had in their various marriages.

  “No. I don’t. What we’re building here is going to last a lifetime, Abby. And whatever happens we’ll always be connected through our child.” He turned off the light, helped her lie back against the pillows and then did the same. As had become their custom every night, they cuddled together in the darkness.

  “Tad?” Abby asked eventually.

  “Hmm?”

  “One more thing.” She smiled against his chest, loving his warmth and his strength. “I’m glad it’s your baby I’m having.”

  “Me, too, Abby.” Tad sighed contentedly and held her close. “Me, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  “This is probably going to be the best tag sale we’ll see for the rest of the year,” Donna told Abby as they toured the barn full of antiques, secondhand furniture and all manner of knickknacks, decorator items and recreational gear.

  Abby paused in front of a section of baby items. Each day she and Tad thought they couldn’t possibly get any more excited about the birth of their baby. And each day they were proved wrong. “I’d love to buy a crib or a changing table, but Sadie made me promise to wait until after the baby shower.”

  “Well, we can go ahead and get the nursery carpet in and the stenciled border up.” Donna paused before a gorgeous writing desk, checked the tag. “What do you think?”

  Abby checked the tag. “I think it’s way over budget.”

  “You’re probably right.” Donna moved on to the selection of paintings. “So how is Tad doing as a prospective papa?”

  “Pretty good actually.”

  Donna smiled and shook her head. “I remember Ron’s reaction to my first pregnancy. He had it all,” she said, laughing. “Morning sickness, backaches, cravings, sleepless nights. Doc Harlan called it the most advanced case of the couvade syndrome he’d ever seen. Fortunately, by the time I had my second baby, Ron had relaxed enough to take it all in stride.”

  Abby paused in front of a his-and-hers bicycle set with a toddler seat strapped to the back of the man’s bike. Abby immediately thought about sunny summer days, what it would be like to get on bikes with Tad and the baby and go for a ride around the neighborhood. “Tad hasn’t evidenced anything like that,” Abby said as she lifted the tag and saw the bikes were within her budget if she stretched.

  “He probably will before all is said and done.” Donna frowned as the cell phone she carried with her began to ring. “If you’ll excuse me...” She walked a short distance away while Abby continued to look at the bikes. A minute later Donna returned, looking harried. “My youngest was just hurt at soccer practice. I’ve got to go. About the lamps and linen chest we picked out for the baby’s room...”

  “I’ll make a bid on them and arrange for delivery.”

  “Thanks. See you later.” Donna hurried off.

  Abby went to find the cashier. Before the afternoon was out, she had purchased everything, including the bikes, which she’d had loaded into the back of the Jeep. Figuring she’d surprise Tad, she took them home and set them up in the middle of the living room, then decorated them with big red bows. She got out a stack of articles that still needed to be edited, then sat down to work on them and wait for her husband to show up.

  He came home around dinnertime. “Abby?” he called as he walked through the door.

  “In here,” Abby called back.

  Tad strode in, a smile on his face. His joy promptly faded as he took in the bikes, complete with baby seat. “What the hell is this?” he barked.

  Abby blinked. He’d never berated her over anything she’d purchased before. She couldn’t believe he was doing it now. It was so unlike him. She moved slowly to her feet. Head high, she said, “It’s a pr
esent from me to you and the baby.”

  His face whitened. He stepped closer, unfairly using his height to force her to lean back to look up at him. “You should have asked,” he said in a low disgruntled tone.

  Abby swallowed and willed her heart not to pound. She didn’t know what was going on here, but clearly something was. “That would have ruined the surprise.”

  Tad grimaced. “You’re going to have to take them back.”

  “What?”

  The muscles in his chest and shoulders flexed as he folded his arms. “We don’t need bikes, Abby.”

  “Says who?” Abby loved to ride. Though she hadn’t had much of a chance for years. But now that she lived in a small town, instead of the city, well, why the heck not?

  “They’d just sit in the garage,” Tad continued.

  “So don’t ride yours,” Abby sputtered, no longer caring they were headed for an argument.

  “Look,” Tad growled as his eyes zeroed in on her, “I don’t want them. Okay?” Giving her no chance to reply, he spun on his heel and stalked out of the house.

  “DONNA WAS TELLING ME about husbands who have sympathetic symptoms, but this was ridiculous,” Abby told Aunt Sadie tearfully half an hour later as she poured out her heart to Tad’s aunt. “I mean, I’ve heard of mood swings, but...”

  Unable to continue, Abby stared at the floor in front of her, where Buster lay on the floor next to a very pregnant Belle. His facial expression looked as mournful as ever, but the way the two dogs were cuddled said they were happy as could be.

  “It wasn’t a mood swing, dear,” Sadie said, casting a glance into the kitchen where Raymond worked preparing dinner.

  “Then what was it?” Abby asked, looking at the mingled concern and caution in Sadie’s eyes and once again feeling like the odd man out.

  “I can’t—” Sadie stopped. Her eyes misted. “You’re going to have to ask Tad,” she said in a strangled tone.

  Unfortunately Tad was not likely to tell her anything. And that hurt. She’d thought—hoped—they were becoming as close as she’d always thought a husband and wife should be. She leaned forward earnestly, determined to find out all she could from Sadie. “I did ask him, Sadie, but all he would say is that he doesn’t want us to have bikes. He didn’t tell me why it was such a sore subject. He just issued this edict and stomped out of the house like the biggest male chauvinist on earth. And you know Tad, Sadie. That’s not like him. It’s not like him at all!”

  Sadie nodded. She didn’t approve of her beloved nephew’s behavior, but it didn’t surprise her, either. “I agree. It sounds as if Tad was unreasonable and overemotional today.”

  “But?” Abby prodded, sensing there was more.

  Sadie pressed her lips together stubbornly. “You still need to talk to him.”

  Nixing Sadie’s offer of dinner, Abby went to the newspaper office. Everyone but Tad had left. He was sitting behind his computer working on the Web site he was creating for the newspaper. “I’m not good company tonight, Abby,” he warned, his eyes focused firmly on the computer screen.

  “Thanks to you, honeybunch,” Abby drawled with provoking sweetness, “neither am I.” Determined to clear the air between them once and for all, Abby moved a stack of papers and sat on the edge of his desk, facing him, so he had no choice but to hear her out. “I don’t know what I did that was so wrong, but you had no right to treat me that way.”

  “I know,” Tad said, guilt flashing across the features of his handsome face as he saved his material and switched off the computer with a decisive snap.

  “I talked to Sadie—”

  “Damn it.” Tad vaulted from his desk chair and began to pace. “I told her I didn’t want you to know about Houston.”

  Abby drew a breath and plunged on recklessly, “Sadie didn’t tell me anything about Houston. But I sure wish someone would.”

  A silence fell that made Abby’s heart thud all the harder. She continued to look at her husband steadily, knowing no matter how difficult it was, these things needed to be said, and said now. “If we’re going to bring up a child together, Tad,” she told him quietly, “we need to know these things about each other.” And we need to know them because we’re married—so very married, in fact—that we may very well elect to stay married even after our baby’s born. That is, if we can clear up some of these miscommunication problems before our son or daughter gets here.

  For a second Tad stood very still. With a sigh he turned to her. “I had a brother, Billy, who was two years younger than me.” Tad swallowed hard and, a distant expression on his face, began to pace again. He paused to stare out the window at the swiftly descending darkness. “When we were kids we used to do everything together.” A muscle working in his jaw, Tad turned back to her and said in a low rusty-sounding tone, “My parents always told me to look after him, and I did—” he jerked in a breath “—‘cause I was the oldest. But I wasn’t that great at it.” Sorrow tinged his eyes. For a second Abby thought he wouldn’t—couldn’t—go on.

  “I used to be impatient,” Tad continued self-deprecatingly, “because he couldn’t quite keep up with me.” Another shadow passed over his eyes. He put his hand up and rubbed at them wearily.

  “One day, when I was ten and Billy was eight, we got on our bikes and headed for the empty lot that we used as a baseball field.” Tad swallowed and forced himself to continue. “It was just two blocks over on typical suburban streets. We’d ridden there plenty of times. It was no big deal.”

  Tad blinked rapidly as tears rose in his eyes and his chest tightened to the point he could barely breathe. “I wanted to take the lead so I rode on ahead. I knew better,” Tad whispered hoarsely as he shoved his hands through his hair. He wished he could forever shut out the memory of that awful time, even as remembered images flashed in his head. “I should have made him go first,” he said on a tortured breath, “kept a closer eye on him, but I didn’t.” God help him, he hadn’t done so. He shrugged. “One minute I’m pedaling along as fast as I can go, Billy behind me, struggling to keep up as usual. The next thing I hear is the sound of a car turning the corner and a loud screech, then a smash.” Tad felt the blood drain from his face. His stomach churned and his knees went weak. “I turned in time to see Billy get knocked off his bike.” Tad shook his head. He balled his fists as angry anguished tears streamed down his face. “He never made a sound,” Tad said, able to see it every bit as clearly now as he had then. “There was just that instant, his eyes frozen in terror, and then wham, he hit the pavement.” Tad jerked in a deep breath as more tears streamed from his eyes and nose. “That was in the days before helmets, of course.”

  Ashamed that after all this time, that even now, he couldn’t talk about the accident and hold it together, he wheeled away from Abby. His back to her, he wiped the tears away. Then he sighed and finished numbly, “The head injuries were massive. He died before they could get him to the hospital. And it was all my fault.”

  He turned to find Abby crying, too. Big gulping silent tears. “Oh, God. Tad...” she said brokenly.

  Feeling like a robot, Tad said, “I haven’t been on a bike since.”

  “I’m sorry,” Abby whispered. She swept into his arms and held him tight. “So sorry. I didn’t know.” She sobbed against his chest.

  Tad held her close, aware that they were both crying and it felt good. He hadn’t cried about Billy since the funeral. “I’m sorry, too,” he said hoarsely at length, rubbing the tension from her back with long strokes of his palms. “I shouldn’t have overreacted.” Tad paused, drew back. “But when I walked in and saw those bikes—” not to mention the baby seat “—it was just more than I could deal with.”

  Abby touched a finger to his lips, silencing him. Compassion lit her golden-brown eyes. “You don’t have to say anything more,” she told him softly, her very presence, the depth and breadth of her understanding, soothing him like nothing and no one ever had.

  “Maybe it’s time I talked about it t
o someone,” Tad acknowledged quietly.

  “You never have,” Abby guessed.

  “No.” Tad handed Abby a tissue, too. “Donna knew Billy had been hit by a car and killed. I think everyone around here did. But I don’t think anyone knew I was with him at the time. Aunt Sadie was pretty good at keeping the details to herself. It was her way of protecting me. Later, when I was older, and she wanted me to talk about it with her—” and she had tried to get him to do so many times, Tad remembered “—I wouldn’t.”

  “What about your parents?” Abby asked curiously as she perched on a nearby desk. “Did you talk about it with them?”

  Tad shook his head. “Aside from going over the details of what had happened, no.” He met Abby’s eyes, remembering the utter lack of joy that had encompassed the rest of the years during which he’d grown up. “You have to understand my family life was shattered by Billy’s death. It was never the same again.”

  He moved to sit next to her. “Did your parents divorce?” Abby asked.

  “No.” Tad remembered wishing they had. “They stayed married after the tragedy,” he reported glumly as he turned toward Abby and she turned toward him. “But their relationship had a hollowness to it that was felt by everyone inside and outside the family.”

  Abby reached over and linked hands with him. “It must have been hard,” she said compassionately.

  “It was. Which is why, I think, my dad started taking field assignments that had us living in a lot of foreign countries and moving every few months. Anything to forget.”

  “Only forgetting was impossible,” Abby murmured.

  “Right.” Tad studied their linked hands. “In some respects I think my parents might have been better off if they’d divorced, instead of staying yoked together by promises they’d made to each other but were, in the end, unable to keep.”

 

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