“No, I’m not sure you do,” the chief said, closing the file. “All I have right now is part-time, evening shift. Certainly with your credentials, that’s not what you were looking for.”
It certainly wasn’t, but what choice did he have? At this point, he needed a position with a Miami fire hall. He knew he could prove himself, work hard and advance quickly...hopefully move to full-time before the baby was born. He was lucky the fire hall had any opportunities at all.
“That’s fine. I’m just grateful to have work in Miami, sir.”
The chief studied him for a long moment, then stood and extended a hand. “You start tomorrow at six. Come on, I’ll introduce you to the team.”
* * *
“WHAT EXACTLY IS THAT?” Bailey asked Friday afternoon, opening the door of the shop for Rachel Harper, who struggled to carry two baby carriers and keep an eye on her other three children running around the parking lot.
A 1948 Clipper motor home sat parked on an angle in the gravel lot. Painted neon orange with red and yellow vertical stripes down the center, it looked like something from a seventies family sitcom.
“Nathan’s idea of a family road trip,” Rachel said, clearly holding a different opinion as she motioned the other children inside the shop. “Please sit and don’t touch anything,” she said, setting the baby carriers on the floor near the counter. Abigail and Mackenzie slept soundly, undisturbed by the loud noises coming from the back of the shop.
“The noise won’t wake them?” Bailey asked, bending to admire the sleeping baby girls. So precious and tiny. Maybe someday...
“Are you kidding? With three older siblings who only have one volume, loud, these babies can sleep through anything.” Rachel smiled at the twin girls. “Anyway, the reason I’m here is to have you check that trailer before we go anywhere in it. Nathan bought it from his uncle Carson last week. It was a surprise.” She shook her head. “Most women get flowers. I get a twelve-hour road trip to Phoenix to visit Nathan’s parents once Vic and Luke return from their honeymoon.”
The older couple had moved to Phoenix to escape the harsh, Eastern winters once Bill Harper retired from his longtime employment as bank manager in town last year. They’d yet to see their newest granddaughters.
“In that?”
“Yes. Nathan says because we live in a B and B, the last thing he wants to do is stay in a hotel when we travel.”
“And that was his solution?” Bailey’s eyes widened. Five kids in a motor home driving across the country—poor Rachel.
“I don’t think the reality of the situation has kicked in yet. Screaming, fighting children, the one very tiny bathroom and the two single beds we’re supposed to cram everyone into at night.” She smiled as she shook her head.
“And yet you’re smiling.” Bailey couldn’t believe Rachel was actually entertaining the idea. She was either crazy or very brave.
“As weird as it sounds, I love his offbeat ideas. I know what he was envisioning when he bought that old piece of junk—a good old Chevy Chase family vacation, and I love him for that.”
Had Rachel ever seen one of those movies? Those trips never went well. Maybe she was thinking of the Harry and the Hendersons family road trips....
“Well, I’m just glad you brought it here to be serviced first,” Bailey said. “I’ll make sure it’s at least safe to drive. You’ll make it to Phoenix and back. Whether your sanity will... That’s beyond my control.” She grabbed a work order slip and wrote up a complete check of the motor home. “When do you need it?”
Rachel laughed. “Never would be soon enough...but not for a few weeks. Mid-Septemberish?” She rushed over to stop Jacob from kicking the vending machine in the hopes of shaking loose the chocolate bar that had gotten stuck. “Stop that. We’re going for lunch now.”
“Do you need a ride somewhere?”
“No. I have the double stroller in the back of that thing. Oh, and I also brought your shoes,” Rachel said, snapping her fingers.
“Shoes?”
“Yes, your pink velvet bridesmaid shoes. I’ll be right back. Kids, stay right here and behave.”
Shoes? Jeez, she hadn’t even thought of that. It’s a good thing Rachel had.
As Rachel ran outside, little Melissa approached the counter and climbed up onto the stool, reaching for an old elastic band to tie her light brown, wispy locks away from her face. “Miss Bailey?”
“Yeah?” Bailey leaned on the counter, keeping a watchful eye on the two boys.
“How old do I have to be before I can work here with you?”
The question surprised her. “You want to work here?” How cool was that? Very few women decided on a trade for a career around here. “Well, how old are you now?”
“I’ll be seven in eleven and a half months.”
“So you’re six?”
“Almost seven.” The little girl’s tone made her smile.
“Close enough, I guess. Well, you’re still a little young. How does twelve sound?” At twelve she was hanging out in the shop, sweeping the warehouse floors, learning about different tools and helping Doug under cars when her tiny hands would work better than his larger ones.
“You mean I have to wait that long for a boyfriend?” The little girl pouted.
“Boyfriend?” What did that have to do with working in the shop? “I don’t get it.”
“Well, there’s a boy I like at school, Dylan Forester....”
“Dylan Forester—isn’t he like ten years old?”
“Nine and three-quarters, yeah. I like older guys. Mom says girls mature faster and I don’t want to be dating a kid,” she said, rolling her eyes.
Bailey suppressed a laugh. “Of course not. Okay, well, does Dylan have something to do with you working here?” She still couldn’t quite see the connection.
“The chain on his bike is always popping off. I thought if I knew how to fix it, he’d fall in love with me.”
Bailey sighed. If only that was the case. If Melissa was hoping that being one of the boys would get her noticed by them, she was going to be disappointed. Bailey hesitated. Should she really arm the little girl with just enough knowledge to land her in the friend zone? She pushed the thought away. If Melissa wanted to learn how to fix a bike chain, that was a good thing, and she would encourage it.
“I’ll tell you what, next week I’ll stop by the inn and I’ll show you how. Okay?”
The little girl’s eyes lit up as she nodded.
“Show her how to do what?” Rachel asked, returning with a shoe box from Plenty of Sole, the store at the mall.
“Fix the chain on Dy...my bike,” Melissa said.
“Oh, your dad will like that.”
Bailey sucked in her bottom lip. Probably not, she thought, accepting the shoes from Rachel and sliding them under the counter. “Thanks. Here’s your pickup slip.” She handed the paper to Rachel and accepted the keys to the Clipper.
“Thanks, Bailey. If you could find something wrong with it, that would be great,” Rachel joked as she led the kids outside.
* * *
ETHAN GRIPPED THE rail of the staircase leading to the tenth floor of the tall high-rise in downtown Miami. Of all days for the elevator to be out of service. Thankfully he was stopping on the tenth floor and not racing all the way to the top of the twenty-seven-story building.
He panted, struggling to catch his breath before he bounded up the last few stairs and yanked open the door to the Women’s Clinic. Inside, pregnant women occupied the waiting-room chairs, while their husbands stood looking nervous behind them.
Emily sat in the corner chair near a window, folding and unfolding her legs and wiggling on the plastic seat. Her annoyed expression was clear even from across the room. Good, she hadn’t been called in yet. The last thing he wanted was to be late for this ultra
sound. He’d already missed enough of this pregnancy. Letting out a deep breath, he took the empty seat next to her.
“You’re late,” she hissed, tossing a copy of Vogue back onto the table next to her.
“Traffic in this city is insane.”
“You’ll get used to it.... Okay, what is taking so freaking long?”
Ethan checked his watch. Her appointment had been scheduled for three o’clock.... It was 3:04 p.m. “They are only a couple of minutes behind,” he said, noticing a fraction too late that some of the men nearby were frantically shaking their heads. Warning him.
Emily’s eyes blazed as she swung to face him.
Uh-oh, what had he said?
“Do you realize how uncomfortable it is to try to hold your pee with a baby using your bladder as a trampoline?”
The men around him shot him sympathetic looks while the other pregnant women stared at him as though he were the most unfeeling human being ever.
“I mean, this is just cruel. They have you drink ten glasses of water, then they make you wait?”
One of the medical staff behind the desk glanced at the clock on the wall, and then grabbing a cup, she approached. Lowering her voice, she said, “Here, Mrs. Parsons, why don’t you go pee a little, ease the pressure a bit. About two cupfuls shouldn’t hurt.”
“You can do that?”
“Will it affect the visibility of the ultrasound?” Ethan asked.
The daggers shooting from Emily’s eyes spoke volumes as she disappeared down the hall, moving faster than he’d ever seen her move. He would pay for that comment later.
“Only a little....” The receptionist leaned closer. “Small price to pay for the safety of the husbands. Around here, we like to say that it helps to eliminate some of the crazy.” She resumed her position behind the desk, and several other men approached asking for a cup for their wives.
Emily’s face was more relaxed when she returned seconds later.
“Feel better?” Ethan asked.
“Much. Did you know you could stop peeing midstream?”
Before he could answer, the nurse called her name.
“Ready?” Emily asked him as she stood again.
About as ready as he could be given the circumstances. He nodded.
“Actually, Mr. Parsons...”
“It’s Bishop,” he corrected.
“We’re not married,” Emily said.
“Sorry, Mr. Bishop. You are welcome to wait out here just a little bit longer. The doctor just needs to take a quick look first, then we will invite you in.”
“Oh. Will you be okay?” he asked Emily.
She nodded as she followed the nurse down the hall toward the last room on the right.
Ethan sat in the waiting room. He scanned the other couples waiting. Wedding bands on every hand. Were they supposed to get married now? He was in this for the long haul, but married? Seemed like an awfully big commitment for two people who didn’t love one another that way anymore. Though having a baby trumped that commitment by miles. And if they didn’t get married, whose last name would the baby have? Emily’s, no doubt. His shoulders slumped and he rested his head in his hands. Only two weeks before, he’d been teasing Bailey about getting married. She was the one he wanted to marry. He sat straighter and pushed the image of her smile from his mind. If he was going to be here, he had to be here fully...for Emily and the baby.
Reaching for a magazine, he flipped through the pages. The August issue of Today’s Parent was full of parenting and pregnancy advice, and an article caught his eye. “The dad’s role in D-day.” D-day? Wow, way to put an already terrified mind at ease, he mused. He scanned the list of responsibilities for the father, all five pages of them, and when he was done, his mind reeled. How was he going to get through this? Emily would have it a lot worse, he reminded himself. It didn’t help.
“Mr. Bishop? You can come in now.”
Ethan stood and replaced the magazine. Immediately one of the younger fathers in the room reached for it. He shook his head. “Don’t read that,” he said, and the anxious-looking man dropped it.
He followed the nurse to the room. Emily lay with her knees up and bent on a small examining table, her belly exposed and covered with a clear jellylike substance. The doctor ran a wand over her bump.
Ethan had gotten an ultrasound once in high school when his doctor had suspected he had ulcers. He was relieved to see that what Emily was enduring didn’t look any worse than that. “Hi,” he said, moving to the available seat next to her.
“Hi,” she said with a smile.
“So, Mr. Bishop, as I told Emily, everything looks great. The heartbeat is strong, the baby’s profile looks great, good position....”
She turned the screen toward them, and once he focused on the black-and-white image on the screen, Ethan didn’t hear anything else she said. He reached for Emily’s hand and she squeezed it, their attention glued to the monitor.
“Is that the baby’s heart?” Ethan asked, pointing to a dark circle in the middle of the baby’s torso.
“Yes, that’s it,” the doctor confirmed.
The little limbs moved and the baby began to bounce every couple of seconds. “Is he...she...okay?” he asked.
Emily laughed and the doctor nodded. “Hiccups.”
“The baby gets those?” Amazing.
“All the time,” Emily said. “I can always feel them, but this is the first time I’ve seen it.”
“I’m glad I was here for it,” he said.
Her smile disappeared, replaced with an expression he couldn’t identify.
“Actually, that leads me to my next question. Do you want to know the sex?”
“No,” Emily said.
“Yes,” Ethan said at the same time.
“This happens a lot,” the doctor told them. “Did you want a few minutes alone to discuss it?”
“No, I already have my mind made up. I want it to be a surprise.” Emily’s voice was firm, and Ethan fought the temptation to argue. Knowing would make it so much easier when planning the nursery or telling family and friends what to buy, but this was ultimately her decision. Lately, he felt very little was within his control. The feeling was foreign and he hoped once the baby arrived, things would be better.
“That’s fine,” he said. “Whatever you want.”
Ten minutes later, after collecting the image of the ultrasound from the reception desk and slowly making their way back down the stairs, they exited the building on the side street where he’d parked her car. In a no-parking zone. She shot him a look as he opened the passenger door for her and swiped the ticket from the windshield.
“Don’t worry,” he said, climbing into the driver’s seat. “I’ll pay this.” He slid the ticket into his wallet.
“So how did it go at the fire hall?”
“I start tomorrow,” he said, forcing enthusiasm into his voice. This would be a good thing, he’d told himself all afternoon. A new challenge, an opportunity to push himself, prove himself again. He’d forced away every negative thought and nostalgic sentiment whenever he compared his new working environment to the hall in Brookhollow.
“That’s great,” Emily said through a yawn. “We can ride to work together in the morning.” Her voice sounded faraway, distant, as she studied her hands.
He’d noticed how distracted she’d been since they’d left Brookhollow and he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d witnessed him saying goodbye to Bailey. He missed Bailey so much. He’d only texted her once so far—to let her know that he’d gotten a job. Really, it was just an excuse to contact her...in a way that wouldn’t hurt Emily. He sensed that over time, the contact would have to stop completely in order to give this second chance with Emily a fair shot...and to allow Bailey to move on. But he just wasn’t qu
ite there yet.
Right now, though, he had to make Emily feel secure. She needed to know he was there for her and always would be. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
She shook her head and forced herself to sit straighter. “No, I’m good. Tell me more about the job.”
“Well, we won’t be riding in together. My shift is an evening one. It starts at six.”
Emily frowned. “Nights?”
“Evenings until 2:00 a.m.”
“How will that work when the baby comes? I’m going to need your help at night.” She sounded panicked.
“It was the only shift available, but it’s only part-time.”
“Part-time?” Her voice held an even stronger note of anguish.
“For now,” he said quickly. “I need to work my way up just like anyone else, Em.”
“But you were captain for eight years in Brookhollow....”
“This isn’t Brookhollow.” His voice took on a note of hardness that he hadn’t intended. “Sorry, Em. I tried everywhere else.” The opportunity they were offering at fire station two was the best he could hope for. At least for now.
She was silent for a long minute, and when he glanced toward the passenger seat, he saw the tears rolling down her cheeks.
Pulling over to the side of the road, ignoring the blaring horns as he crossed two lanes of traffic, Ethan put the car in Park. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He undid his seat belt and turned to look at her.
“This isn’t going to work,” she whispered.
“Of course it is. Trust me, by the time the baby is born, I’ll have full-time hours on day shift.” He hoped. At this point, he’d do anything to make that happen.
“I don’t mean the job.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks.
“Well, what?”
“Us,” she said, sadly.
He sighed. “Look, it’s not ideal, okay? I’m not going to lie and pretend that everything is fine and that things will return to the way they were. A lot has happened—changed— but I’m here for you and our baby. No matter what,” he reassured.
“But we don’t love each other anymore. If it weren’t for the baby, you never would have given us another chance and you hate it here.”
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