“I don’t want children.”
He’d said the words without thinking, yet as soon as he spoke them, he knew them to be true. They felt right.
“I don’t want children,” he repeated with conviction. “I want you.”
It had taken him nearly two months to convince her he meant what he said. Only then, when she was sure she wasn’t taking anything from him, had she said yes.
The past bent, then snapped. He was left staring at Crissy, at her expression of happiness and delight. Emotions he could never share on this topic.
“No,” he said firmly, knowing he couldn’t will the child away. “I don’t want a child with you.”
She gasped and took a step back.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded. “How could you do this? Did you plan it? Are you trying to trap me?”
“What?”
The entire situation was wrong. He got that now. He should never have gone out with her, cared about her. He didn’t have the right.
“Are you crazy?” She glared at him. “Why would I want to trap you? I don’t need a man in my life. This just happened. Don’t you remember that first night we were together? You came to me. You walked into my house to find out if I was all right. So what exactly would my plan have been? After twelve years I realized that the son I’d given up for adoption had an uncle who didn’t want children. Perfect, I thought. Now I’ll get involved with the family, act all broken so he’ll come over, seduce me and then I can have his baby?”
He knew she was telling the truth—that his charge was ridiculous. So why did he feel so compelled to make it? Why did he want to lash out at her?
“If anyone was doing the using around here, it was you,” she told him, putting her hands on her hips and glaring. “You’d been doing without for a long, long time. You got an itch and decided to use me to scratch it. Don’t come crying to me because you forgot to use protection and you got caught.”
More guilt filled him, but this time it had nothing to do with Stacey. Crissy was right about the itch. He’d never meant to use her but a case could be made that he had.
“Crissy,” he began.
She cut him off. “No, Josh. You don’t get to say all those things to me and then expect everything to be fine. We’re having a baby. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means you finally get what you want. You regretted giving up Brandon and now you have someone to take his place.”
“What?”
“It’s true. I’ll agree that I have to take responsibility for the pregnancy. My excuse is I haven’t had to deal with birth control in nearly ten years. Stacey couldn’t have children. It wasn’t an issue. As I haven’t been with anyone else since she died, I don’t think about keeping condoms around. What’s your excuse? You date. Why weren’t you prepared?”
She pressed her lips together. “I just wasn’t.”
“Great reason. You might want to think of a better one. Maybe you did see this as an opportunity to have the child you now want. Who cares if I didn’t want to take that on? This is all a game to you and I’m not playing.”
“A game? It’s never been that. I can’t believe you’re accusing me of having an ulterior motive. As far as I’m concerned, we’re equally responsible. You don’t want kids. Fine. You don’t have to have them. Here’s a news-flash. I don’t need you to have this baby. I’m more than willing to sign anything you want saying you give up your rights and I give up the right to child support. Does that make it better?”
“It’s not that simple.” Even though he wanted it to be.
“Sure it is. I’m more than prepared to be a single mother.”
“For how long? You’ve made a career out of running from your emotional responsibilities.”
She flinched as if he’d hit her and he knew then he’d crossed the line. That he’d damaged whatever had existed between them.
“I don’t get it,” she said slowly. “I thought you were the best kind of man. I thought you were amazing and kind and loving. I knew you still loved Stacey, but I thought that was about having a heart that didn’t let go. I see now you were just masquerading as someone I thought I could love. In reality you’re nothing more than a cruel, selfish bastard. I don’t regret being pregnant. I want this baby. I just wish you weren’t the father.”
She picked up her purse and walked out the door. When it slammed shut behind her, he was left alone.
By Saturday morning Crissy knew she had to snap out of her mood funk, for the health of the baby if nothing else. She felt lost and unfocused, and there was an ache inside that refused to go away.
She hated that she kept waiting for Josh to call and say it had been a horrible mistake. That he’d momentarily been possessed by aliens and in truth he was delighted about the baby and longed to be with both their child and her. That he loved her with a fierceness that defied description. Barring that, she would accept a decent apology.
Neither was forthcoming.
She tried to focus on her work, because at least that was a distraction, but she couldn’t find her usual joy in her business.
“Things will get better,” she told herself. They had to, right?
Finally, unable to stand just sitting around and moping, she went into the small bathroom attached to her office and changed into the workout clothes she kept on site. She was nearly out the door when the phone rang. It was her private line.
She hated the sudden burst of hope in her chest and how much she longed to hear Josh’s voice. Where was her pride and sense of self-preservation? Was she one of those stupid women who let herself be emotionally beat up by the same guy over and over again?
Apparently, she thought grimly as she hurried back to her desk and grabbed the phone.
“Hello?”
“It’s Abbey. I hope I’m not disturbing you, but I have a handsome guy standing here who wants to ask you something.”
“Mo-om!”
The disgusted tone was audible and made her smile. Okay, so it wasn’t Josh, but it was still a call she wanted to take.
“Am I embarrassing you?” Abbey asked cheerfully.
“You know you are. You like embarrassing me.”
“I kind of do. Here you go.”
“Hey, Crissy.”
“Good morning,” she said, happy to hear her son’s voice. “What’s up in your world?”
“Not much. Look, Emma is at her girlfriend’s house and Dad’s taking Hope to some stupid petting zoo. They asked me to go with them.” He sounded outraged. “To a petting zoo. I’m practically a teenager.”
“Horrifying.”
“Yeah. Anyway, do you want to come over for lunch? We have leftover Chinese from last night and it’s really good. I thought we could hang out for a while.”
Some of her pain eased. “I’d like that a lot.”
They settled on a time. Five minutes later Crissy cranked up the incline on a treadmill and set the speed to six miles an hour. Between now and her lunch date, she was going to run away from her problems.
“Dad thinks I should be a doctor, like Uncle Josh,” Brandon said between bites of Kung Pao Chicken. “I don’t know. I want to play baseball. I guess you can’t play forever. Guys get old and stuff. I could always be a doctor then.”
“The medical profession will love knowing it’s your fallback position,” Crissy teased. “Depending on how long you play baseball, you could be really old when you go to medical school. Like maybe thirty.”
Brandon shrank back in his chair. “Thirty? Can you still learn stuff then?”
“Those of us in our thirties muddle through,” Abbey said. “There are people in college in their seventies.”
He rolled his eyes. “Why? They’re not going to get a job or anything.”
“Some people like to learn things because learning is fun and interesting,” Abbey said. “Some people like school.”
Brandon looked as confused as if she’d just spoken Mandarin.
&n
bsp; “Don’t you like school?” Crissy asked.
He shrugged. “Most of the time. I like math and science. I like to read, but not as much as Emma. If she could be a book, she’d be really happy. History is dumb and I hate writing papers.”
“Typical jock,” Abbey murmured, then looked at Crissy. “I totally blame you for that. You’re so athletic. And his birth father was a jock. Couldn’t you have fallen for someone intellectual?”
Crissy laughed. “Sorry. Next time I’m in high school and getting in trouble, I’ll choose someone different.”
“It can’t be helped now,” Abbey said, looking at her son.
Brandon laughed. “Come on, Mom. You love me just the way I am. You don’t want me to be different.”
“Oh, I don’t know. A son who cleans his room could be exciting. At least it would be a change.”
He sighed heavily. “I’ll clean my room. I promise.”
“The deadline is Sunday by one. And yes, we’re going to church, so don’t think you can use that time to do it.”
He picked up his plate and carried it to the counter. “I guess I should go do it now, huh?”
Abbey shrugged. “It’s your call. Your room—your responsibility.”
He turned to Crissy. “See what she’s like?”
“You’re pretty lucky and you know it.”
He grinned. “I’m not saying that.” Then he ran out of the room.
Crissy watched him go. “You’re amazing with him.”
“He makes it easy. Which is also your responsibility.”
“I guess I don’t mind taking the credit, even though I don’t deserve it.”
Abbey passed over the container of pot stickers. “How are you doing? You seem…I don’t know. Tired maybe.”
“I have a lot on my mind. Before I forget, I wanted to ask your opinion about Brandon and the baby.” Crissy glanced toward the doorway to make sure they were still alone. “Telling him. I was thinking of waiting until I’m showing a little. Eight months before the actual birth seems excessive. What do you think?”
“I agree. Waiting isn’t a problem. He’ll still have plenty of time to deal with the situation.”
“Do you think it’s going to be hard for him?” Crissy asked. “I worry about that. About him thinking I didn’t care about him, but I care about this child.”
“I don’t know how he’ll handle it,” Abbey told her. “But I do know we’ll tell him together, in a supportive environment and that we’ll get through whatever his reaction is. We’re his family and he knows that. I have a feeling everything is going to be fine.”
Crissy hoped she was right. “Have you talked to Josh?”
“Not in a few days. He hasn’t been around. What—” Abbey grimaced. “You told him, didn’t you? From the look on your face, I’m going to guess it didn’t go well.”
“It was a disaster.” Crissy set down her fork. “I don’t get it. I thought I knew him. I thought we had a connection that mattered to him. He totally freaked. He accused me of tricking him so that I could get pregnant. Worse, he flat out said he didn’t want a child with me.”
She did her best to stay strong as she spoke the words, but it was hard. Emotions welled up inside of her, making her hurt again.
“He didn’t mean that,” Abbey said.
“He sounded fairly sure.”
“He thinks he means it, which isn’t the same thing. You have to know he’s reacting to his past rather than to you, right?”
“Even if that’s true, does it matter? If he can’t let go of the past, then we don’t have a chance. I really thought he was the one.”
Tears filled her eyes. She did her best to blink them away.
“I thought he was great,” Crissy went on. “The guy you wait your whole life to meet. Now I’m not so sure. Did I make him what I wanted him to be? Did I create the perfect man out of a normal guy with a few problems. Everyone has problems—I’m good with that. But I’m not sure I can handle Josh’s. I’ll never be Stacey. And until he’s willing to let her go, he can’t be someone I can love and he won’t be a father to our child.”
Abbey bit her lower lip. “I’m so sorry. I hate that this is happening. I know in my heart that Josh has to be excited about the baby.”
“If he is, he’s doing a heck of a job convincing me otherwise.”
“Don’t be mad at him,” Abbey said. “This is all my fault.”
“I can’t wait to hear how.”
“That first night you were here, I could see he was attracted to you. He hadn’t dated since Stacey’s death and I was getting on him about going out more. I told him to find someone and have sex before he forgot how. I just didn’t think he would do it that night.”
Crissy smiled. “I hate to burst your bubble of self-importance, but you have nothing to do with what happened. As much as Josh adores you, he wouldn’t go out and have sex just because you told him to.”
“I want to believe that,” Abbey said, looking miserable.
“Does he ever do what you say?”
“Oh.” Her expression cleared. “Not really.”
“Why would he this time?”
“I like your logic,” Abbey told her. “But that doesn’t solve the problem. Give him time. I think he’ll come around.”
“I hope so,” Crissy murmured, knowing she would love for Josh to be a part of the baby’s life, not to mention her own. But only if he did so with an open heart.
“Are you nervous about the baby?” Abbey asked.
“A little. So far I’m not thinking much about being pregnant. It’s so new that I—”
She stopped talking when Abbey held up her hand. The other woman put her fingers to her lips and quietly rose. She moved to the doorway and looked down the hall, then returned to the table.
“Sorry,” she said. “I thought I heard a noise. Brandon found out you were his birth mother by listening in on a conversation between Pete and me. It’s kind of a thing with him, and we’re doing our best to break him of the habit.”
“I’m glad you checked,” Crissy said. “This isn’t how I want him to find out he’s going to have a half brother or sister.”
“Agreed. Anyway, you were saying you were in denial about the baby.”
“Not denial exactly, but I’m not thinking about it every minute. I’m okay with being a single mother, at least intellectually. I’m financially secure, I have a support group, I run my own company, so my hours can be as flexible as I want them to be.”
“You have me,” Abbey said. “I want to be considered part of your support group. I’ve raised three babies, so I’m experienced with the whole newborn thing.”
“I’m happy to hear that. You’re my total mother role model.”
Abbey smiled. “You’re sweet to say so, but I’ve made mistakes. Pete helps a lot, too. He’s great with the kids.”
“I want Josh to be like that,” Crissy admitted. “I want him to be excited and involved. I can’t believe he would walk away from his own child.”
“He won’t,” Abbey told her. “Like I said—give him time.”
But would time be enough? “It won’t work if he’s not willing to move on,” she said slowly. “Which can be harder than it should be. I felt so guilty about giving up Brandon, I didn’t let myself move on for years. What if Josh is the same way? If he takes too long, he’ll lose so much with the baby.”
“Are you willing to give him a chance?” Abbey asked.
“Of course. I love him. But he has to be willing to take a chance, too.”
Tommy was seven and totally into airplanes. He wanted to be a commercial pilot when he grew up, but that was only after flying fighter jets for the air force. He already knew more about planes than Josh did and he wanted to go to an air show for his eighth birthday.
Josh’s job was to make sure he lived until that birthday.
He checked Tommy’s chart, then walked into his room. There were posters of airplanes on the wall and several stuffed anim
als piled on the bed. Tommy’s mother slept in the bed next to her son’s and even in sleep, she looked exhausted.
Josh moved quietly, not wanting to bother either of them. As he reached out to lightly touch Tommy’s face, he braced for the heat of a fever brought on by the aggressive chemo he had prescribed.
It was a classic choice of two evils. If Tommy didn’t have the chemo, his cancer would kill him. But the chemo was almost a death sentence itself. Symptoms varied, but in this child it had produced raging fevers that kept spiking at terrifying temperatures.
There was an ice bath kept at the ready and in the past thirty-six hours, the nurses had used it twice.
His fingers brushed against cool, damp skin. Josh frowned. Damp? Why would—
Not daring to hope, he gently pulled back the covers and saw Tommy’s pajamas plastered to his body. They were soaked, as was the bedding.
“Hot damn!” he said, louder than he meant to. Tommy’s mother opened her eyes and sat up.
“What happened?” she asked, already on her feet and moving to her son. “Is it his fever? Should I call the nurse?”
He grabbed her hand and put it on Tommy’s thin chest. In the light spilling in from the corridor, he saw her face transform from terror to wonder.
“The fever’s broken,” she whispered. “It’s broken. That’s good, right?”
“It’s better than good. It means he beat the chemo and he’ll be all right. I’ll have the nurse come in to change his bed and check his temperature, but it’s way down.”
“Thank you,” she said, then put her hand over her mouth as tears trickled down her cheeks. “Thank you. No one else would take a chance on him. You’ve saved him.”
“Not yet,” he told her. “But we’re in a much better place than we were.”
He started to leave. She grabbed his coat sleeve and held him in place.
“You always do this,” she said. “Come here in the middle of the night. I want you to know how much that means to us. I’m sure it makes your wife crazy, so would you please tell her thank you from my husband and me? Remind her what a great guy she married. While you’re at it, tell your kids they’re lucky to have you for their dad.”
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