Twice in a Lifetime (Love Found)

by Henrick, Ruthie

  “He cried.”

  Her brow furrowed even as the wooden spoon halted. “He’s not happy?”

  “Good tears. We’re supposed to refer to him as Papa starting immediately.” Ben took a stack of bowls from the cupboard, passed them around the table. “And I asked Jake to dinner. He’ll be here any minute.”

  She ladled stew into Jake’s bowl, passed it to him. Did the same for Ben. Let just the right amount of casual ride in her voice. “I stopped by the doctor’s office today.”

  Jake lifted his eyes, ping-ponged a questioning gaze between her and Ben. “Everything okay?”

  “Oh, everything’s fine.” She passed him the rolls, waited until he snagged one, bit into it. The taunt was devilish but much too hard to resist. “Just had to pee into a little cup.”

  To his credit, his food stayed in his mouth long enough for him to swallow. “A baby?” He pinned a glare on Ben. “You’re married what, three months? Jesus, you know what causes that, right?”

  Ben only grinned. “You jealous? Find your own wife, knock her up.”

  Jake’s eyes dulled, quickly brightened and were accompanied by a loopy grin. “Yeah, easy for you to say. You got the good one.” He got up from the table, kissed Allie on both cheeks and slapped Ben on the back. Hard.

  Allie once again shifted against the headboard, propped up at the end of a busy Monday. She was once again herself—maybe a slightly larger self—but chasing the schoolkids around all day wore her out.

  “Are you glad it’s a boy, Ben?” She was pretty sure he was, but he’d been kind of quiet since they returned from her sonogram earlier in the day. “I mean, most guys want to have a son, don’t they?”

  Ben stretched, lifted her pillow so she could get comfortable. “Sure, it’s great. But you know I would have been good with a little girl, too.” His absentminded pat on her arm did nothing to reassure her.

  “Thanks.” She wiggled into her nest. “What’s the matter? You look pale. Do you not feel well?”

  “I’m fine.” Using a finger, he marked his place in the book on his lap and stared off into middle space.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have gone with me today. Some guys get kind of freaked out about the whole growing the baby thing. Is that it? Did it bother you to see him on that monitor? I thought it was pretty cool, myself. And then to hear his heartbeat. Woosh, woosh, woosh.” She imitated the sound the best she could. “It was really fast. I didn’t realize babies’ hearts beat that fast.” She was babbling, but Ben was really pale.

  “What about his nickname? Are you sure you’re okay with it? Because I really like that name, Trey. It means three, and well, he is. The third, I mean. Your dad is Bentley, you’re Ben. And I don’t want anyone calling him Benjie. That sounds like a dog.”

  “Trey’s good, sweetheart. That’s a good name.”

  Oh, God. He wasn’t having second thoughts about the baby, was he? Because really, it was too late for that now. She took a hard look at him, stiff against his own pillow with his eyes glued to the cover of that baby book on his lap.

  “What are you reading, Ben?”

  “What the hell’s an incompetent cervix?”

  Oh, good God! She grabbed the book from him and twisted to rearrange her pillows, scolding him with her best teacher voice as she tried to get comfortable. Again. Still. “Jeez, Ben. If you’re going to worry about every single thing you read in those books I’m going to take them all away from you.”

  But Ben was not intimidated. He speared her with a determined scowl. “We need to know what we’re up against.”

  And there was the bossy voice. Is this what was bothering him? He could be such a trial. She softened her tone and scooted closer to him. “No, sweetheart. You need to know that we have an excellent doctor—you met her, remember? She’s taking very good care of us. Everything will be fine.” She handed the book back to him. “Now read the part about helping me with my breathing during labor. I signed us up for Lamaze classes in a few months.”

  With a wash of relief that returned his color, Ben again flipped through the pages, off her back and frantically hunting for the chapter less to do with unforeseen problems and more to do with bringing his child to him.

  Her twenty-third birthday fell on a Sunday. She was stuffed, the melody of classical strings lulling her from across the dining room. Their plates were cleared with a muted clatter and the waiter served their desserts—raspberry topped cheesecake for her and a decadent chocolate layer cake for him. She took a bite then let out a low, appreciative sigh. “Delicious.”

  Ben’s grin was expected. It was a joke between them how much she ate lately. “I had a call today.”

  She lifted her gaze and paused with her spoon raised to her lips, prepared to shovel in the next bite.

  “Yep. From the zoo. Seems they’re missing an elephant.”

  He was teasing. Of course he was. How many times a day could he possibly tell her how beautiful she was? But oh, he was going to pay for that. With a retaliatory grin she set her spoon back in her dish. She stretched her arm out until her hand rested on his lap, adjacent to her. She let her fingers wiggle their way to his inner thigh. Hidden by the heavy linen tablecloth, she traced his hard length with her fingertips. Beamed up at him, all innocent. “Seems they’re missing a snake, too.”

  With a muffled bark of laughter, he tugged her close and brushed his lips against hers, then pulled a gift from his jacket. Two fingers pushed it past the flickering candle and across the table to her, his warm blue eyes smiling. “Happy birthday, babe.”

  She picked up the flat, narrow box in one hand. It rustled when she gave it a little shake. “Is it a car seat? Because we really need a car seat.”

  “No silly, can’t you tell by the shape? It’s a stroller.” She hadn’t picked that out yet either. “Better open it to be sure.”

  She leisurely unfastened the tape, hiding her eyes with her lashes, taunting Ben with her deliberate motions. When all the tape was unstuck, she gradually peeled back the paper and exposed a jeweler’s box. Her chin jerked up in surprise.

  “Oh, Ben.”

  “You don’t even know what it is yet. Open it!”

  Oh lord, bossy voice again. But she knew him well now. He only used it when he was anxious.

  She removed the smooth leather case from the box. Snapped open the lid to reveal a beautiful watch with a slim gold band and diamonds encircling its face. It was engraved on the back. For all time. Love, Ben.

  “Oh, Ben. I love it.” She plucked her new bauble from its cocoon and buckled it on. Her heart must surely show in her eyes, as it was so full of love, so swelled in her chest, she just might explode. She lifted her lemon water to his whisky sour in a toast, the lips of the elegant crystal touching with a discreet ring. “For all time.”

  She made it through winter, and warmer weather was again upon them. It was more than a year since she first met Ben—such a busy year. With a waddle she swore she’d never resort to, she headed toward the kitchen for a glass of iced tea. A key scraped the lock and she halted. Ben stepped through the door and kicked off his boots.

  “Like your dress.” He leaned in for a welcoming kiss.

  She scowled down at the acres of fabric. “Tent. You look tired.”

  “Hard week, just glad it’s Friday.” He dropped an arm across her shoulders. “I need to change. Tell me about your day.”

  Restless. Achy. I cried in the classroom after the kids left. “I’m just glad I made it to the last day of school before the rug rat made his appearance.”

  “Your due date was a whole week ago.”

  Her feet were evidence of that. “Everyone said first babies are late. I guess I’m glad they were right this time.”

  They passed the baby’s room—a closet advertised as a second bedroom—which they’d painted soft yellow and hung with prints of nursery rhyme characters. A zoo animal mobile bobbed above the wooden crib Ben had assembled weeks ago. Everything was ready for Trey’s arrival. Th
ere were stacks of diapers, tiny T-shirts and pajamas. Hand-knit blankets. Sweet smelling powder and lotion. And Jake had brought a huge stuffed teddy bear with a big blue bow the day after the sonogram. They were missing nothing. Except Trey.

  Ben let his hand drift down to rest on his son. “Think Junior’s going to let us sleep tonight?”

  “It would be the first time this week.”

  “You look exhausted, babe. Go get off your feet. I’ll have a quick shower and be out in a few minutes.”

  She nodded. “I just want something to drink first.”

  Padding across the cool tile of the kitchen floor, she removed the iced tea pitcher from the refrigerator. And stopped in her tracks as a gush of warm fluid ran down her bare thighs and soaked her hem. Seriously? She didn’t even have to pee. She stared at the wetness surrounding her feet.

  The puddle spreading across the floor suddenly took on a whole new meaning. Oh boy! Ohboyohboyohboy! She was having a baby!

  “Um, Ben!” Stay calm. Stay calm. Did he hear her? She raised her voice. “Honey, can you come here, please?”

  Her first contraction ripped through her, much stronger than she’d imagined. “Ben!” Damn. She wasn’t going to be one of those hysterical women. She wasn’t. But calmness was clearly overrated. She was done with calm. Right now she needed a chauffeur. One who was about to be a daddy. “Ben!”

  Ben came running, tearing through the apartment with his shirt off, belt flapping. With her chest heaving, a vague hand waved toward the mess on the floor. “I—” Her breath came out in a whisper. “I made a mess.” Oh, Ben. Poor guy. All he wanted was to relax in a hot shower and she was dragging him off to labor and delivery.

  Ben took one look at the wet mess on the floor and immediately became a man of action. “Don’t move. I’ll get the mop.” His worried gaze darted around the small room. “Did you drop the pitcher? I don’t see any glass. Are you sure you’re not hurt?” He led her by the shoulders to the nearest chair. “Here, sit while I clean this up for you.” He was really so sweet.

  “I didn’t spill the tea.” Women—lots and lots of women—did this every day. Maybe she could stay calm after all. Another contraction snuck up on her and she clenched the seat of the chair in a death grip. She took a deep breath against the pain. Blew it out.

  Ben’s gaze swung between the pitcher—still intact—sitting on the table and the splattered mess on the floor. “That’s not tea.” His eyes flew to her, and landed. “Baby?” At her nod he sailed to her side, dropped to his knees beside her. Patted her knee.

  Another contraction came, riding the wake of the last one. Already? Was that normal?

  “What do you need, Allie?”

  She could barely breathe and he was asking idiot questions. She unclamped her hands, grabbed fistsful of his shirt and dragged him to her, nose to nose. “Think… I need… hospital.”

  Ben’s grin exploded across his face as he bent and swept her into his arms. “Well, okay then, let’s go get Trey.”

  Like they were running out for milk.

  With a lead weight centered in his chest, Jake parked his truck, squared his shoulders and crossed the threshold of the hospital through wide glass doors. Was it bad, was it wrong to dread this day? He found the information desk. “Tate?”

  The older woman—a volunteer, according to her name badge—pecked at the keyboard, beamed her response. “Ah, Maternity. Room 334.” And then pointed toward the elevator.

  His stomach bottomed out at maternity. Jesus. Allie had a baby.

  Ben’s baby.

  Oh, he’d had months to prepare, sure. Six of them. Fat lot of good that did him. He climbed into the empty car, stabbed the button for three.

  His steps slowed as he neared her room. She’d never be his, but until today he could still hope. Still pretend he had a shot. The weight in his chest did a slow slide, landed in his stomach, which was already in knots. Suck it up, Taylor. The voices in his head were ruthless. You want her? Well, this is the all you get. Don’t fuck it up.

  Echoes of his footfalls followed him as he searched for the correct room. Halting at the threshold, he planted a grin on his face, popped his head around the doorframe. “I hear somebody had a busy night.” He stepped into the room, was glad he’d chosen the roses, which he slid onto a counter beside two smaller bouquets. “Hi, babe.” He leaned over the hospital bed, kissed Allie’s cheek, checked his breath at the blond-haired angel alert in her arms.

  Even as he smoothed a gentle finger over the curling tufts on the baby’s head, nudged him under the chin, he turned to Ben, perched on the edge of the mattress beside Allie. “He’s all red and wrinkly, what’s the matter with him?”

  “He’s perfect. He has my eyes.”

  Jake snorted. “All babies have blue eyes, dumbshit.”

  Allie lifted the bundle toward him. “Do you want to hold him?”

  Even in the ugly hospital gown she glowed. And her Mona Lisa smile shook him. If he wasn’t convinced of it before, there was no way around the truth now. Allie was happy with her life—with Ben. And if he wanted to be part of that life he would find a way to be happy for her. “Of course I do.” And he let her settle her son into the crook of his elbow.

  His heart, which was at last settled into a smooth and steady rhythm, filled. “Well hello, kid.” He cradled the wriggling baby, rocked him with ease, kissed him gently on his soft little cheek and then rounded a grin on his two best friends. “You did good. I’m impressed.”

  “Hey Jake, I need to call in a favor.” Ben’s glance slid to Allie, and then they both turned to him.

  With the soft flannel blanket peeled back, Jake paused as he played with tiny fingers, lifted his eyes to Ben, met his amused gleam. “Oh, yeah? What now? I suppose you want time off so you can get in Allie’s way with the baby.”

  “Nah, I’ve got something better. We want you to be Trey’s godfather.” He waited a beat, the suggestion of a smirk riding on his smile. “Besides, you got me into this.”

  Jake stilled. Was he capable of this? Something—his heart?—lodged in his throat. Could he promise to help raise this child?

  The baby was not his, but he was Allie’s. He nestled him closer, humbled by the prospect. When he lowered his eyelids he found he couldn’t shut out the weight of reality. How could he not promise? He started to speak, was surprised at the gravel he found in his voice. With a quick cough, he answered. “Yeah. I’d like that a lot.”

  Allie melted into the sofa with a sigh of relief and shuffled so the heating pad lay against her lower back. She picked up the photo album she’d set aside earlier and opened it on her lap. The cover was green leather, engraved with Trey’s initials.

  There was Trey as a newborn, in his parents’ arms, still at the hospital. Trey at the lake, encased in a life vest so bulky he could barely toddle. She smiled at the memories as she flipped page after page. She came to last summer’s vacation—three days at Disneyland. She studied the pages until at last she came to the end. Trey’s school photo, taken shortly after he entered kindergarten earlier in the fall. His vibrant personality shone through the brilliant blue eyes, so much like his father’s.

  The years had passed in a blur. For so long now there had been little to their days but car seats and play dates, lesson plans and blueprints. She set the hefty book on the table beside the sofa and adjusted the heat of the pad. Glanced at the clock. Her men should be home from their soccer game any minute.

  Her stomach cramped and her smile dimmed. For five years she’d suffered a brutal monthly reminder that while their life may be full, it wasn’t complete.

  The slam of the front door and cleated feet clattered over the tiled entry had her swinging her legs over the edge of the sofa and straightening.

  “Mama, Mama! Where are you?”

  Ah, she recognized that voice. Loud, enthusiastic, and all boy. Whoa, champ echoed mere seconds before she was used as a roadblock.

  “Hello, munchkin. How did your game go?” He
r smile bloomed without pause. With her arms wrapped around her child she was content.

  “Good. Real good. And guess what?”

  Her smile broadened. She was quite familiar with the question-and-answer type conversations of a five year old. “What?”

  Trey’s face exploded in a grin. “We won! And our whole team got a trophy and a juice box.” He shoved the award in her face. “Even Daddy, and even Uncle Jake, ‘cause they’re the coach. And Jax. And Jimmy. ‘Cause they’re on my team, too!”

  “Wow!” She earnestly inspected the trophy. “Aren’t you the lucky one?”

  “Yep, I’m the lucky one.” Trey grinned, spared her a quick hug, reclaimed his prize and shot through the house in a burst of little boy energy.

  Ben folded himself onto the edge of the sofa, gentled a hand over his wife’s back. “I’d say all is well in his world.”

  Allie pulled her eyes from the hallway. The heat and his hands united to ease her discomfort. At his snort she grinned into his shoulder. “At least through first grade, Coach Dad.”

  Allie sat up in the dark. A slash of light from the hallway fell across the foot of the bed where the covers were thrown back.

  “We’ve discussed this a million times, Allie.” The hissed words were angry and tired from overuse. “Now is not a good time. We’re not ready.”

  “You mean you’re not ready.” But the ticking in her heart thundered. “Dammit, Ben, Trey’s five. If we’re going to have another baby, I’d like it to be soon.” She was overcome by a swift and sudden resentment, an emotion that had been rearing its ugly head quite often lately. “Quit worrying about everything.”

  Ben stood at the foot of the bed and matched her glare. “Look, I take care of Trey as much as you do, and we’re both dog-assed tired at the end of the day. How are we supposed to find enough time to take care of another kid, too?”

  There was a new sense of urgency tonight. An unmistakable desperation in their words that frightened her. She climbed off the bed, brushed past him as she marched to the open doorway, shot out an arm toward the closed door across the hall. “We both love that kid asleep in there, and we make time for him. Just like we would make time for any other children. Just like we make time for anything important.”