Dream Keeper

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Dream Keeper Page 8

by Gail McFarland


  I’ll make the appointment today, she promised.

  * * *

  “So? How was Valentine’s Day? Ashville is always so dreamy, and to have all weekend like that…” Yvette scrunched her cute face into a leer, then sighed. “Might as well have your fun now, because when the baby gets here…”

  Rissa brushed past her and picked up a handful of mail as she passed Karee’s desk.

  “…none of that slinky underwear is ever going to look the same. Oh, baby, and that’s not all.”

  Reaching her office door, Rissa pushed it open and stepped through. Uninvited, Yvette followed. Crossing to the red visitors’ chairs, she plopped into one and crossed her legs. “You know, I do believe your butt is getting big. Carrying the baby low, hmm, that means it’s a boy.”

  “Look, Mother Wit, I can do without the comments, and don’t look at me like that.” Rissa dumped her coat, the mail and her briefcase on the desk and ignored Yvette when she pushed her lower lip out. Walking over to the chair facing Yvette, she sat and crossed her legs. “Ask me about our trip.”

  Determined to sulk, Yvette concentrated on her nails.

  “Come on, ask me. You know you want to.”

  “All right, I will, but just to make you happy.” Yvette feigned indifference, and then leaned in, succumbing to her natural impulse. “Tell me, did you have an amazing time? What did you do? Was Dench, like, world class romantic?”

  “Yes, everything, and omigod!” Rissa’s hands flew to her face.

  “Girl, you’re blushing like a virgin! Tell me everything!”

  “You don’t need to know everything.” Hands still at her warm cheeks, Rissa giggled.

  Yvette sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “Then give me the PG-rated version.”

  “Okay, here’s what I can tell you.” Rissa leaned forward, eager to share, but was interrupted by Karee pushing the office door open.

  “Sorry.” Karee’s head bobbed from side to side when the women looked over at her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, but they’re here, the Clarences.”

  “Oh, I’d better get out of your way, then.” Yvette stood and looked back just long enough to make her point. “I expect you to finish telling me about your trip.”

  “I know you do,” Rissa told her partner’s back.

  Sierra Clarence came through the door first, and she took Rissa’s breath away. “My goodness, Sierra, you look like the maternity poster girl.”

  “Thank you, and you! You’re still so slim, how many months are you?”

  “We’re almost to five,” Rissa moved her hands over her stomach and hips proudly. “I just can’t get over how good you look. You are going to look really good on camera, the perfect spokeswoman for child support products.”

  At Sierra’s side, James beamed and nodded. Her doe-soft eyes were bright and she held her husband’s hand. “We’ve got two months to go, and then you’ll get to meet James Jr.”

  Lips parted, Rissa froze in her tracks. “I thought you didn’t want to know the baby’s sex!”

  “It wasn’t me.” Lowering herself carefully into one of the red chairs, Sierra looked at James. “He couldn’t take it, and you know you’re never in this all by yourself, so I gave in.”

  “In my defense, she wanted to know, too,” Jimmy laughed. “Especially after you came up with this deal for us to do the commercial series for BeaconGreen. She likes the idea of being able to stand up in front of the camera and talk about how we are going to bring our baby into a green world.”

  “And I’m not by myself.”

  “No, she’s right. We got to talking about it after you got us the offer,” the boxer drawled. “We liked the idea, and now she can be more specific. She can talk about our son.”

  “Knowing that we’ll have a son makes everything more real.” Under his eyes, Sierra smiled and pushed her coat from her shoulders. “I want to thank you for letting us do this.”

  “Yeah, thank you. I’m still surprised you used us for this group of commercials. The first time I heard about it, I expected you to use your brother and his wife.”

  “They’re a little tied up right now.” Rissa crossed her arms, holding the folder over her stomach. “They have two small children, AJ has his physical therapy practice and Marlea is still teaching at Runyon. On top of that, they’re looking at expanding Project ABLE.”

  James perched on the arm of his wife’s chair and gave a long low whistle. “I heard that Project ABLE is going international.”

  “In a couple of years, and when they do, they’ll be active on three continents. So, I want to get this BeaconGreen project off the ground with you two as the initial spokespeople.”

  Bringing the contracts to the small table, she sat in one of the red chairs, produced a pair of the Mont Blanc pens she favored, and made quick work of explaining the contracts. Sierra lifted her pen to sign, but gasped sharply.

  “Are you all right?” Out of her seat, Rissa was halfway to the door.

  “Fine.” Sierra blew out hard. Planting one hand on her belly, she gestured to Rissa with the other. “Come feel this.”

  Trying not to look as silly as she felt, Rissa walked back across the room. When James and Sierra reached for her, she let them place her hands on Sierra’s stomach, and when they were quiet she was, too. Then she felt it; he kicked.

  “Two times,” James grinned. “Too bad Coach Traylor won’t be around when my boy is ready for major league football. That was a field goal right there.”

  “He might be.” Sierra’s hand rubbed circles on her belly, and the baby kicked again. “You and Dench still haven’t given us an answer.”

  Pressing her palms together and blowing softly between them gave Rissa a moment to think. Then she again pressed a hand to Sierra’s stomach. She felt the ripple when the baby shifted and wanted to say yes, but Dench wanted…so, she bit her tongue and said, “Can I get back to you on that?”

  “Just don’t wait too long.” The baby rolled and kicked again. Sierra’s face lit with pleasure in her son’s accomplishment. “Maybe you’ll have a boy and our sons can play on the same team some day.”

  Someday, Rissa thought when she saw them to the door a few minutes later. A little jealous of Sierra’s thickly ripe waddle, she made herself busy with the contracts and exchanging final information with her BeaconGreen counterpart. I felt their baby move. I can’t wait until my baby does that!

  She was still thinking about someday as she pulled into her garage. Stepping out of her car, she reached back to collect her purse, briefcase, and the books she’d made a special trip to MEDU for. The lady at the bookstore had been really nice, taking almost an hour to help her choose the right books, offering honey-laced tea, talking about her own pregnancy more than ten years earlier. And she’d walked out of the bookstore exhausted and carrying a couple of hundred dollars’ worth of books.

  Dench looked up when she pushed the door open, and his words felt like poetry to her. “Hey, baby, what have you got there?”

  Standing in the center of the door that opened into her kitchen, Rissa couldn’t help the smile Dench brought to her lips. He stood more than six feet tall and two hundred fifteen pounds, with broad shoulders, long arms, and a tightly muscled chest. Her husband wore jeans, a blue flannel shirt, Timberland boots, and a frilly yellow apron. He held a long-handled wooden spoon and the lid to a small saucepan. Sexy.

  “I stopped at MEDU,” she finally said and grunted a little when she held her full bag aloft. “What are you up to?” She walked closer, dumping the bag on a chair. “Smells good, what is it?”

  “Dinner. Thought that since you had to work today and I was home, you might appreciate having dinner ready.” He dipped the wooden spoon into a silky looking white sauce and offered it. Watching his eyes, she tasted. Smooth and buttery, the sauce slipped across her tongue, delighting her palate along the way. When she hummed satisfaction he smiled. “Alfredo. Good, huh?”

  “Very.” She licked her lips and looked
at him. “A good looking man who can cook. I bless your Aunt Linda every day for raising you right.”

  “She did her best.” Dench rattled pots and pans, then stirred the sauce again when Rissa reached for her bag of books. “You had a call today.”

  “Oh. Who was it?”

  “Joyce Ashton.”

  Something in his voice made her stop. An odd thread of doubt unraveled along her spine. Forcing calm she could not claim, Rissa looked at him. “Did she say what she wanted, or leave a message?”

  Dench jammed an oven mitt over one of his big hands and pulled a pan of rolls from the oven. Settling the rolls, he pulled the mitt off and dropped it on the counter. “She said that things are going well, so far.”

  Rissa felt her heart stutter.

  “She wanted to know if you had contacted the other doctor yet.” His eyes darkened and all of the laughter that came so easily to him seemed to drain away. “What other doctor, Rissa? Why do you need to consult with another doctor?”

  “It’s just a precaution, Dench. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Then why didn’t you say something?”

  “And scare you to death? You were scared enough when we heard the baby’s heartbeat for the first time, remember?” Rissa let the bag fall to her feet and walked toward him. As she’d known he would, he opened his arms, accepted her. “Dench, we have gone through so much and come so far to have this baby, I didn’t want to alarm you. I made the appointment today—I’ll see the doctor on Monday.”

  His arms tightened and he laid his cheek against her hair. “And you’ll tell me what the doctor says?”

  “Every word,” she promised, leaning into him. Her stomach rumbled between them and they shared soft laughter. “We’d better eat now, your baby is hungry.”

  “So is my baby’s mama.”

  “Then I think you’d better feed me.” Suddenly tired, she kicked off her shoes and rested in his arms a little longer. Her yawn caught her off guard and she felt the worry shadowing his eyes. “Wow, hungry and tired.”

  “Then how about you take your time, get settled, and I’ll put dinner on trays.”

  She looked hopeful, glad that forgiveness came easily to him. When he picked up her shoes, she took them from him and yawned again. “Bring that tray to bed, and I’ll show you what I bought for you.”

  “You bought something for me? What is it?”

  “Bring me food and I’ll show you.” Picking up the bag of books, the shoes dangling from her fingers, she walked to their bedroom. The bag of books grew heavier with every step she took.

  “Long day,” she decided, sliding out of her pants suit in the dressing room. Unbuttoning the white ruffled shirt was more than she felt like doing, so she pulled it over her head and left it piled with the suit in the middle of the floor. Reaching into a bureau, she found a simple white eyelet nightgown and remembered what Yvette had said about sexy underwear after babies. Shaking the sheer cotton gown open, Rissa pulled it over her head. Big, soft and roomy, there was nothing sexy about the gown and she tried to remember where it had come from because it was like nothing she’d ever purchased for herself. It was definitely designed for comfort.

  Yvette has a point. The baby’s not even here, and I’m already going for the comfort—Dench will just have to forgive me this time. Climbing into bed, she heard him coming with the tray. Even as her stomach grumbled, she yawned and knew that sleep was going to win.

  From the bed, the bag of books was just in reach and she pulled it closer. Getting a good grip, she levered it up on the blue and brown comforter and spilled the books across her lap just as Dench rounded the corner.

  Holding the bed tray, Dench looked from her face to her lap and back again. “Is that my surprise?”

  She held Daddy for Dummies aloft. “Is that my dinner? If it is, Big Poppa, then this book is for you.”

  One-handed, Dench planted the loaded tray in the center of the bed and sat next to Rissa. Taking the book from her hands, he flipped pages, studied a picture and flipped more pages. “So do you think this book is good?”

  “I bought it, didn’t I? I wouldn’t buy you a book that wasn’t good.” Snagging a roll, she bit into it, chewed, and slid a little lower in the bed.

  He swung his legs up on the bed and rolled to his side, reading. “Did you know that right now, the baby weighs about three ounces? Damn, baby, that’s about the size of a hotdog.”

  Stuffing the last of the roll into her mouth, Rissa chewed. Dench turned another page, read and then looked at his hand.

  “What?”

  “Six and three-tenths inches,” he said reverently, his eyes alive with swirling flecks of green and gold. “That’s how big the baby is right now.” He turned more pages, reading along the way. “And teeth, it says that all the teeth have formed.” Rissa nodded sleepily and curled on her side as he continued reading. “This book is cool. Now I don’t have to listen to AJ’s nonstop commentary on the mysteries of childbirth. I’ve got my own reference tool.”

  When Rissa didn’t answer, he looked over at her. Sprawled at an impossible angle, her head was thrown back and one foot dangled from beneath the covers. Her chest rose and fell with her breathing and an insolently sudden snore. Moving carefully, trying not to wake her, Dench eased from the bed. Sliding the tray away from her body, he stood and watched her sleep. When she started to drool, he set the tray on the floor and reached for a tissue—for better or for worse went a long way.

  It’s a good thing I love you, girl. He dabbed at the corners of her mouth and she smacked her lips in return. And I love you like a shoe loves a sock.

  Her hearty snore was answer enough for him.

  Rissa spent most of the night snoring and slept so deeply that she didn’t hear Dench rise before daylight. His stealthy movements were so quiet that she never heard him dress or leave the house for Flowery Branch. Surfacing from sleep, she caught a trace of sweetness on the air, and it made her think of him. Refusing to open her eyes, sensing the stillness of her home, she knew that she was alone. I didn’t hear the alarm clock go off. Where’s Dench?

  Oh, yeah, she recalled, liking the teasing floral whisper. He said something about team assessment and medical reviews. Yawning, still tangled in sleep, she managed to open her eyes. A glance at the clock told her that she could afford to sleep longer, but the delicate fragrance persisted. Turning her head, she found the source of the scent, soft, pink and velvety, in the center of his pillow. A rose, he left a rose for me. And when did he get it? She reached out, touching the bloom with a single finger and smiled. Wonder what I did right to deserve a man like him?

  She stroked the rose tenderly. Cathi, she remembered sleepily. I haven’t thought of Cathi Jennings in forever. Wonder what she’s doing now? Rissa sighed and drew the rose across the pillow, closer to her face. That girl was crazy about AJ. She was the reason I noticed Dench in the first place. We were twelve years old and she said he was fine, but AJ was finer. Said he was ‘foine’…Then, she dared me to kiss him, and I did…almost twenty years ago…

  Her breathing deepened and Rissa closed her eyes and drifted. He was more than ‘foine.’ He fell out of that tree trying to get my cat that time—I guess that’s the first time I knew he was special, right for me. He’s funny and sweet, and he loves me. Promises that he loves me like Jesus loved the church and I guess I’ve always known it. Fingering the rose, she floated off to sleep.

  And would have slept far later, if not for the annoyingly insistent alarm of the clock at her bedside. Rissa stirred, wanting to get rid of the heinous sound, but…maybe it wasn’t a sound so much as a feeling, and the feeling was wrong. She knew it the second she moved her head.

  Her body was hot and felt like it was…Her mind floundered, searching for the right word. Buzzing, she thought. Why would I be…buzzing? The pain that knifed through her back made a sudden detour down one leg and she gasped, her hands flying to her belly. My baby?

  Her usually agile mind stumbled into stu
pid and her mouth filled with salty water. This is not right. Something is wrong…Sitting up, she pushed back the bed sheets and stared in horror. This is wrong, horribly, horribly wrong…

  Wadded around her legs, the bed sheets lay where she’d pushed them, sodden, soaked with her blood. Rissa closed her eyes and tried to keep breathing. “Dench?” His name was a deadened croak when it crossed her lips, and she knew he wasn’t there.

  Terrified and fearing the damage, her eyes refused to leave what she didn’t want to believe. Reaching without looking, she found the phone and pressed buttons. She babbled something to the 911 operator and pressed more buttons. Sitting in the bed with the awful sheets growing cold and stiff around her, she held the phone and prayed, afraid to move. Feeling her body begin to shake, Rissa ignored the lightning galloping through her body and made herself still. Maybe being still would save the baby. Maybe…

  “Hi, Rissa,” Marlea finally answered the phone. “What’re you still doing at home? Don’t you have any…” The line was too silent, for too long. Marlea’s eyes went to Mrs. Baldwin, who stopped in her tracks. “Rissa?”

  “What?” Mrs. Baldwin looked concerned when Marlea shrugged.

  “Rissa, are you alright?” When she heard nothing, Marlea pitched the phone to Mrs. Baldwin and ran.

  “Mommy runs fast!” Jabari told the housekeeper.

  The 400-meter run had always been Marlea Kellogg’s best event; she’d even won gold medals and set a world record. Running to Rissa’s house, she proved that she was as fast as she’d ever been. Running the distance, her feet only slowed when she jammed the keys in the door and pushed it open. Running through the house screaming Rissa’s name, she was too afraid to wonder what she might be running toward.

 

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