by Terri Reid
Mary exhaled slowly. “Okay, I never thought of it that way,” she said.
“Course you haven’t,” Gracie said with a laugh. “That’s my job. I don’t talk to ghosts and you don’t figure out what’s inside people’s heads, okay?”
“Okay,” Mary replied, feeling a little better. “So, what do we do?”
“You get this little girl some help,” Gracie said. “Is there a child psychologist you know and trust?”
“I heard of one woman,” Mary said, thinking aloud. “Karen Springler. She’s supposed to be great with kids, really warm and fuzzy.”
“Sounds like the perfect person for the job,” Gracie said. “But, if for some reason Clarissa doesn’t like her, don’t be afraid to find someone she clicks with.”
“Should I be attending the sessions too?” Mary asked.
“Well, I’m going to let Dr. Springler run her program the way she likes,” Gracie said. “But usually there will be sessions for the whole family and then sessions just for Clarissa.”
“Thank you, Gracie,” Mary said. “I feel so much better.”
“Sure you do, honey,” Gracie replied. “Now, why don’t you tell me the other thing that’s on your mind?”
Surprised, Mary stuttered for a moment. “There’s…there’s…nothing, really.”
“U-huh, you never were a good liar, Mary O’Reilly,” Gracie said. “I can tell your lying clear from Chicago.”
“I think I’m pregnant,” Mary whispered into the phone, glancing at the door to be sure no one was close by.
“Well, halleluiah,” Gracie said. “That’s wonderful.”
“Well, it could be,” Mary said.
“Honey, it’s a damn near miracle if you’re pregnant,” Gracie said. “And I know you’ve wanted a baby of your own. So, what’s the problem?”
Mary felt the tears welling in her eyes and grabbed for another tissue. “It’s Bradley,” she said.
“What? I can’t believe he doesn’t want a baby,” Gracie exclaimed.
“No. I mean I don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t told him.”
“What?” Gracie roared. “You haven’t told him? Why the hell not?”
“Well, you know, with Clarissa and work and all that’s going on…” Mary began.
“Oh, no, you are not going to tell me that you think it’s your job to protect your husband,” Gracie said. “Honey, when are you going to remember it’s not your job to always sacrifice yourself for others? Sometimes the people that love you want to be able to sacrifice for you.”
“But—” Mary started.
“No,” Gracie interrupted. “No, there are no buts here. You call that man, as soon as we hang up this phone. You call him and you get him down to your office and you tell him. You understand?”
“I’m—” Mary said.
“Do you understand?” Gracie interrupted once again.
“But what if he’s not happy about it?” Mary said, her voice breaking.
“Then he’s an idiot. And your man is not an idiot.”
“No, he’s not,” Mary agreed.
“And just because it’s in your body, doesn’t mean it’s not his baby too,” she added. “Why keep him from the joy?”
“Shouldn’t I wait until I’ve gone to the doctor, just to be sure?”
“Are you sure?” Gracie asked her.
“Well, I’m…”
“Are you sure?” Gracie repeated. “In your heart.”
Mary nodded. “Yes, I’m sure,” she said, her smile widening as tears slipped from her eyes. “I’m sure.”
“If that baby’s a girl, you know her name has to be Gracie,” Gracie added with a chuckle. “And if it’s a boy, Grayson will be just fine.”
“I’ll remember that,” Mary said with a watery laugh. “Thank you Gracie.”
“Don’t thank me,” she said. “Just call that husband of yours. Goodbye Mary Alden.”
“Goodbye Gracie,” Mary said, and she hung up the phone.
A moment later she picked it up again and pressed a speed dial number. “Hi Dorothy, it’s Mary,” she said. “Could I speak with Bradley?”
Chapter Six
Bradley rushed out of his office, pulling on his jacket, as he passed Dorothy’s desk. “I’m heading over to Mary’s,” he said.
“Is she okay?” Dorothy asked.
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I think so,” he replied hesitantly. “I mean, I’m sure… She just wants to talk…”
He froze and stared at Dorothy. “She just wants to talk,” he repeated. “That’s never good.”
“Don’t worry about it, Chief,” Dorothy said with what she hoped was an encouraging smile. “Everything’s fine.”
Bradley looked at the grimace pasted on Dorothy’s face and his stomach dropped. He’d better hurry. “Thanks, Dorothy,” he said, trying to hide his alarm. “I’ll call you if I’m going to be a while.”
Rather than take his cruiser and try and find parking, Bradley decided to jog the three short blocks to Mary’s office. Maybe the run in the cool spring air would help his sense of dread. The lights worked in his favor and he jogged across Galena Avenue, turning right toward Main Street.
What could be wrong? he asked himself. Mary was great this morning at breakfast. Last night was…he smiled as he remembered their night together. …amazing. If it had been an emergency, she would have told me. Or would she? What if the hospital called? What if they found something?
He broke into a run for the final block and threw the door open to Mary’s office. “What’s wrong?” he panted, putting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath.
“Hi,” she said nervously, avoiding eye contact with him. “Why don’t you, um, have a seat.”
Something is wrong. Something is very wrong, Bradley thought as he slipped into the chair across from her. “What’s up?” he asked, trying to sound casual.
“I… I had a great conversation with Gracie this morning,” she said quickly. “She suggests we bring Clarissa to a child psychologist so she can talk about everything that’s happened to her. She thinks that will really help Clarissa.”
Bradley nodded. “Well, good, that sounds like a great idea,” he said. “Do you have someone in mind?”
“Yes, I do,” Mary replied. “Actually, I already called her and she can meet with all of us tomorrow afternoon, if that works for you.”
Bradley sat back in the chair and ran his hand through his hair. “That works for me,” he answered quickly. “But Mary, is that why you asked me to come to your office?”
“No,” she confessed, shaking her head quickly. “No it’s not. I’m just stalling.”
Quickly sitting up and moving to the edge of his seat, Bradley leaned forward over the desk and took Mary’s hands in his own. “What is it?” he asked. “You can tell me anything.”
Taking a deep breath, she shook her head. “The other night, Saturday night, when the hospital called, the nurse mentioned something…” she began.
Bradley jumped up from the chair, came around the desk and knelt down next to her. “Mary, what’s wrong?” he asked. “I had a feeling there was something you weren’t telling me. But whatever it is, we can work through it.”
She nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “Well, it was just so unexpected,” she said. “And I knew we were going through all kinds of stress and I didn’t want to add one more thing to the list.”
Bradley froze, staring at her for a moment. “How bad is it?” he asked. “How long do you have?”
Talking over him, she continued to explain. “And really I never even thought it was possible, given the surgery,” she continued. “So I didn’t take precautions, because really, why bother?”
“It’s related to the shooting?” he asked. “Did something happen to your organs? Weaken you? Damage something and now they’re finding it?”
“And then, everything is going to change in nine months,” she said, not hearing him and wiping away her tears. “I mean w
e just started our new family, nine months is not a lot of time to have together before things change.”
Bradley stood up, clapping his hand over his mouth, his stomach dropping to his feet. “Nine months,” he finally said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You only have nine months. I don’t know what to say.”
He paced away from her, trying to get his emotions under control. He was going to lose Mary in nine months. How would he ever continue on?
He heard her chair push away from the desk and she came up behind him, lacing her arms around his waist and placing her head on his back. “I’m sorry, Bradley. I should have—”
“No,” he interrupted, his voice hoarse. “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t want our last nine months to be wasted in blame.”
“Our last nine months?” she exclaimed tearfully. “You’re going to leave me?”
He slowly turned and looked down at her. “What are we talking about?”
“I guess you’re leaving me in nine months,” she replied, tears rolling down her cheeks and her voice shaking.
“I thought you were leaving me in nine months,” he said.
Wiping tears off her face with the back of her hand, she shook her head angrily. “How could I leave you in nine months?” she asked. “The baby will be brand new.”
Bradley gasped, like he had been punched in the solar plexus. “The baby?” he asked.
“Yes, the baby,” she replied. “I’m pregnant. What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you?”
Having been emotionally transported from abject misery to utter amazement, for a moment all Bradley could do was stare at Mary, his mouth hanging open.
Swallowing nervously, Mary waited for a moment before asking. “Do you really hate the idea?”
Slowly, not saying a word, he knelt before her, wrapped his arms around her waist and laid his head against her abdomen. Then he turned his head and kissed her stomach. She enfolded his head in her arms and held him there, tears of joy slipping down her cheeks.
“Our baby,” he whispered. “I can’t believe it.”
“Are you happy about it?” she asked.
He turned his head up and looked at her. She saw the wonder through the tears.
“Happy?” he replied. “Happy doesn’t begin to describe what I’m feeling. I’m overwhelmed.”
She bent over and placed a kiss on his forehead. “I love you,” she said.
He stood and swept her into his arms. “I love you,” he said, crushing her lips with his own.
Finally, a few moments later, he lifted his head and smiled tenderly down at her. “We’re having a baby.”
Eyes glowing with love, she nodded. “Yeah, looks like it,” she agreed. “I’m going to see the doctor this afternoon.”
“Okay, I’ll be there,” he replied.
“Will you?” she asked, overjoyed.
He kissed her again. “Of course I will,” he answered after a moment. “This is our baby.”
Walking across the room to her desk, he carefully placed her in the chair. “So, can I get you anything?” he asked. “Something to eat?”
She smiled up at him. “No, I’m great. I’m perfect,” she said with a deep sigh of relief. “I’m so happy you reacted this way. I thought the news would be just another added stress.”
He leaned over and kissed her again. “A baby is a blessing, not a stress,” he said. “So, when shall we tell Clarissa?”
Mary sat back in her chair and placed her hand protectively on her abdomen. “Well, there is something else you should know,” she said. “The hospital said the positive test indicated that I was pregnant, but after what happened to me on Saturday, that could be changed.”
Kneeling in front of her chair, Bradley placed his hand over hers. “You mean you might not be pregnant anymore?”
She nodded. “I thought about waiting until after my appointment to tell you,” she admitted. “Just so…”
“So you could save me from the disappointment,” he added. “Mary, you do remember the whole ‘for better and for worse’ part of the ceremony right?”
She shrugged and looked away. “Yes, but…”
Lifting his other hand, he gently cupped her cheek and turned her towards him. “I’m glad you told me, not only because I will be able to be there for you when you get the news, good or bad. But also because it lets us both know you can get pregnant. So, if for some reason this baby isn’t meant to be, we know there’ll be others.”
He tenderly rubbed his thumb across her cheek, catching the single tear that made its way down her face. “We’re a team, right,” he said softly, with a crooked smile. “Go team.”
She chuckled quietly. “Yeah, go team,” she replied and then sniffed back the tears. “But as far as Clarissa, I think we should wait until we know for sure. She doesn’t need any more sadness right now.”
Nodding, he stood and kissed her again. “You’re absolutely right,” he said. “Let’s see what the doctor says and then we can decide on what’s best to tell her. Okay?”
“Okay,” Mary replied. “Now, you should go back to keeping Freeport safe for all its residents and I’ll get to work.”
He stayed where he was, bent over her chair. “You’ll take it easy? Promise?” he asked.
Grinning, she nodded. “I promise,” she said. “And thanks for worrying.”
“Oh, don’t thank me,” he said with a returning smile. “I promise I’m going to be a pain in the butt about watching over you. Just warning you.”
“Okay, just occasionally remind me that I did thank you,” she replied. “Once.”
Suddenly serious, he bent once more and kissed her tenderly. “I thought I could never love you more than I did when I asked you to marry me,” he whispered softly. “I was wrong.”
Chapter Seven
“Thanks for doing this for me,” Rosie said, as she drove down Highway 20 away from Freeport. “I really think this house needs a family, but something is pushing everyone away.”
Mary sat back in the comfortable leather seat of Rosie’s SUV and nodded. “No problem,” she said. “I just need to be back in my office by three because I have a three thirty doctor’s appointment.”
Rosie glanced over at Mary, then back to the road. “Is it a follow-up visit from what happened on Saturday?” she asked, concerned. “Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, Mary. You should be home, resting. I can’t believe I asked you to do this. I’m turning around right now.”
Mary placed her hand softly on Rosie’s arm. “I’m fine, Rosie,” she assured her. “It’s not a follow-up visit. It’s something completely different.”
Rosie turned to protest but stopped when she noticed the peaceful smile on Mary’s face. What in the world?
“Are you sure you’re fine?” she asked. “I still feel bad about what happened—”
“Rosie,” Mary interrupted. “I think I’m pregnant.”
“What?” Rosie exclaimed, gasping in delight. “Are you sure?”
“We’re going to the doctor this afternoon,” she explained. “The hospital did a routine check that turned out positive, but I don’t think we’re really going to know until they can hear a heartbeat.”
“How long does that take?” Rosie asked.
“Not for at least a couple more weeks,” Mary replied. “But, since I haven’t shown any signs of losing the baby, I’m going to believe I’m still pregnant.”
“Mary, that is just so wonderful,” Rosie said. “I’m sure Bradley and Clarissa are thrilled.”
“Well, Bradley’s thrilled,” Mary said. “But we haven’t told Clarissa yet. We want to make sure everything’s okay before we tell her. She doesn’t need any more loss in her life.”
“Why, I suppose that’s a good idea,” Rosie said. “Until you know for sure.”
Rosie turned right from Highway 20 onto a smaller road. “We’re almost to the little farm,” she said. “Are you sure you’re feeling up to this?”
“I feel great,” Mary
said.
“Okay, well, then let’s find out what secrets this house is hiding,” she replied as she pulled the SUV into the gravel driveway and in front of the house.
Mary stepped out of the SUV and stared at the house. It was a large wood-framed home, with a graceful wraparound porch, a picture window in the front and a porch swing just waiting for an occupant. Rosie was right, it needed a family. It was a place for family gatherings. She could picture a Christmas tree in the front window, with the porch strewn with lights and garland or friends and families gathering for a country Thanksgiving, arms filled with dishes as they walked up the stairs, greeted by loved ones. This house had great memories, but it needed more.
“I see what you mean,” Mary said to Rosie, over the hood of the vehicle. “Let’s go in.”
They walked up the steps and Rosie unlocked the door, leading the way into the house.
The front hallway had a staircase to the left and a doorway ahead of them. Mary paused, waiting to see if she felt a prompting to go upstairs or continue through the first floor. She had a little twist in her stomach as she looked through the doorway that led to the dining room. “Let’s go this way,” she suggested, walking down the hallway.
The old wood floors glistened in the sunlight that poured through the lace-curtained windows. The house was chilly, but it seemed to Mary to be more the cause of a low thermostat setting than anything supernatural. She walked through the dining room, into a great room with a wood stove on a red brick hearth. This would be cozy, she thought.
Walking slowly around the empty room, Mary could sense a feeling of family in the room. She could see shadows of the families who had lived here; children standing around the wood stove in the early morning hours enjoying the warmth as they talked and laughed, other children playing board games on a coffee table, a child laying on a couch covered with a quilt as a worried mother hovered nearby and hushed voices and the patter of little feet as they rushed down the stairs to greet the magic of Christmas. There was nothing scary or supernatural here, just memories, good memories, of growing up. There had to be something else wrong with the house, because it really didn’t seem to be haunted. Turning to Rosie, she was about to suggest they leave when she saw a movement in the kitchen.