Christmas Baby for the Princess

by Barbara Wallace

  “I can hear the heartbeat?” Any embarrassment she felt vanished with a flutter. She could hear her baby? “I didn’t think I was far enough along.”

  “You’re just far enough that we should be able to pick up something with the fetal Doppler.”

  Arianna’s pulse stepped up its pace. Her baby’s heartbeat. She couldn’t believe it. Except for the morning sickness and her clothes feeling a bit snug, she didn’t feel all that pregnant. Yet she was about to hear definitive proof there was a life inside her. She looked to Max, who was still standing in the doorway.

  “Would you like to stay?” she asked him.

  “Me?” His self-assuredness, which she thought was a permanent fixture, slipped slightly. “I don’t think...”

  “It’s not exactly protocol,” Dr. Miller told her.

  “Please.” Nothing about this appointment fit protocol, so why change now? “I’d like him to hear the heartbeat, too.” She couldn’t explain why, other than it felt important he share in this moment with her.

  “If Max wants to stay,” the doctor replied.

  “Please?” Arianna repeated, looking him in the eye.

  The restaurant owner wore the strangest expression. Fearful, almost. His eyes were wide and distant. “I...”

  Cutting off whatever he was about to say, he nodded instead. “Okay, if you want me to.”

  “Now that that’s settled, I’ll need you to lie back down,” Dr. Miller replied. “Max, you can either stand by the sink or you can step a little closer.”

  Max opted for the sink, a choice that left Arianna disappointed. While she didn’t expect him to hold her hand, she’d hoped he would at least want to stand near her.

  At least he was sharing the moment.

  Lifting one side of the paper gown, Dr. Miller squirted a dollop of cold gel on her abdomen, before reaching for what looked like a plastic microphone.

  “Sometimes it takes a couple minutes to find him or her,” she said, pressing the tip into the gel. Arianna held her breath while the doctor moved the device left, then right. Suddenly, she paused the microphone an inch or so above Arianna’s pelvic bone. “Hear that?”

  A low rapid drumbeat was coming from the machine. “Is that it?” Arianna asked. Dr. Miller nodded.

  In a flash everything became a thousand times more real. The baby. Gone was the nebulous concept that she was pregnant. This was a real child, a living breathing being whose heart beat inside her. Tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Can you hear?” she asked, looking at Max. It felt incredibly right, sharing this moment with him.

  Max’s eyes were glassy as well. “Yeah,” he croaked. “I can hear. I— Excuse me.”

  Skin white as a sheet, he rushed from the room.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  GRIPPING THE SIDES of the sink, Max stared into it, the sound of running water drowned out by his breathing.

  The look on Arianna’s face when she’d heard the heartbeat... Pure joy. When she turned to look at him, her eyes radiating with the love she felt for her child, his heart had stopped dead in his chest. And it hit him: they were listening to the heartbeat of a child who, when born, would be as special as its mother.

  He wanted to grab her hand then and there, and share this moment with her. As if they were having this baby, she and him. It was such a ridiculous thought, he’d had to get out of there. Clear his head. There was no them. No relationship—even if he wanted one.

  Someone knocked on the men’s room door. “Max? Are you all right?”

  “Fine, Carol,” he answered with a sigh. “I’ll be right out.” Turning off the tap, he dried his face and opened the door.

  Carol was leaning against the opposite wall, arms folded across her chest. “Arianna’s getting dressed. She’ll be out in a moment.”

  Schooling his features into something close to collected, he smiled. “Great. I’ll meet her in the lobby.”

  As much as he wanted to make his exit, it felt rude not to say something before he left. “Thanks again for seeing her today. I hope I didn’t put you in too tight a spot.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad I could help,” she replied. “She’s sweet. I can see why you wanted to help her.”

  “I would help her whether she was sweet or not. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Sure it is.” Carol’s smile came with a sharp, unreadable expression.

  Whatever. Originally, he figured on paying back the favor by suggesting a dinner. If he recalled, Carol had been a fun date. A little too focused on babies for his taste, but good for some smart conversation and laughs. In fact, this would be the perfect time to ask her out, only his plan didn’t seem like such a good idea anymore. Every time he looked at her, he would hear the tiny drumbeat of Arianna’s baby.

  “Well,” he said, trying not to sound too abrupt, “I should see if Arianna’s made it to the lobby yet...”

  Carol’s hand stopped him. “Are you sure you’re all right? You got pretty pale in there.”

  “I skipped breakfast, is all. Standing in that stuffy room got to me.”

  Once again he started to leave, and once again her hand kept him in place. “It’s funny,” she said. “The entire time we were seeing each other, I can’t recall you ever getting as worked up about something as you did just now. Reminded me a lot of the new fathers we get in here.”

  “I told you, I skipped breakfast.” Defensiveness kicked in good and strong, causing him to deny a little more vehemently than necessary. “Trust me, Carol, I’m fine. And I’m not the father of that baby, either.”

  Although for a moment, he did wonder...what if he was?

  * * *

  It had started snowing by the time their appointment ended. Giant fluffy flakes, straight out of a movie, turned Manhattan into a surreal winter wonderland.

  “Isn’t it beautiful?” Beside him, Arianna had spread her arms wide and lifted her face to the sky.

  “Gorgeous.” The flakes dotted her hair and eyelashes. He’d always thought it a cliché when he read how melted snow looked like diamonds, but dammit if it wasn’t true. Her eyelashes glittered with them. Like a snow angel.

  A snow princess.

  Flakes blew into his eyes, blurring his vision and bringing him back to reality. “It’s really coming down,” he said, brushing the snow from his hair. Snow was sticking to everything, including the street and sidewalk, turning both slick. Everywhere pedestrians were waving at the yellow taxis, trying to catch drivers’ attention. Raising a hand, he joined them. “Hopefully we’ll be able to get a cab.” Visions of Arianna losing her balance and falling filled his head.

  Her gloved hands grabbed at his wrist and tugged it down. “Are you kidding?” she replied. “Take a taxi and miss my first American snow? Absolutely not.”

  He knew she would say something like that. “It’s a snowstorm, Arianna. No one walks in this weather.”

  “I do.” Grinning, she draped her scarf over her head, turning it into a gray cashmere veil. “You make it sound as though it is a blizzard. It’s beautiful out. The perfect day for walking.”

  A snowflake melted on his nose. “I wouldn’t say perfect.”

  “Please? This could be my only chance to experience a white Christmas.”

  Her comment reminded him she would be leaving soon. Back to her real life, and he would be nothing but a fond, distant memory.

  That’s how life worked, right?

  Arianna was still looking at him, her eyes as bright as the lights on a Christmas tree. How could he say no? Besides, if he was going to become a memory he might as well give her a day that was worth remembering. “Sure, but will you at least hold on to my arm in case you slip?”

  You would have thought he had given her the Hope Diamond—or replayed the baby’s heartbeat
—the way she smiled. “If you insist,” she said, hooking an arm through his.

  Covering her hand with his, Max told himself his insides had not just turned upside down when she touched him.

  He took her along Fifth Avenue, where she oohed and aahed over the elaborate window displays, her favorite being an over-the-top animatronic display of the twelve days of Christmas.

  “Don’t they have Christmas decorations in Corinthia?” he laughed when she forced him to stop at yet another display, this one portraying a Victorian Christmas scene.

  “Of course we do, just not on such a grand scale. We are, after all, a small country.”

  “That’s New York for you. When we do things, we do them big.”

  “In Corinthia, it’s more about tradition,” she replied.

  Sounded like everything in Corinthia was about tradition. After all, wasn’t tradition the reason behind her leaving? Keeping his thoughts to himself, he let her continue.

  “The castle, of course, is decorated elaborately, as is Corinthia City, but once you move to the outskirts, things look the same as they have for centuries.”

  “How’s that?” he asked.

  “Well, for one, there are no outside lights. Instead, the houses decorate their window boxes with boughs of green. Then they place a single candle in the center of each window. The green is supposed to represent life, and the candles the blessings that are to come in the future.”

  Interesting. He tried to picture the image in his head. Never having been much for fancy Christmases anyway, there was something appealing about simplicity. “Sounds nice.”

  “Oh, it is. If you drive to the top of Mount Cornier and look out, all you can see are single white lights for miles and miles. It’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. No offense to your Manhattan.”

  “None taken.”

  She was wrong, though. The most beautiful thing was the look on her face when she described the scene. He loved the way her mouth turned upward when she spoke, in the barest hint of a smile. He wanted to brush her lips with his fingers and let her delight sink into his skin.

  What he really wanted to do was to kiss her. To hold her like he had that first night in his apartment and kiss her until he couldn’t breathe.

  Instead, he pulled her closer, pretending it was to protect her from a pedestrian rushing the opposite way. She leaned close, her cheek pressing against his shoulder. Even with the snow swirling around them, he could smell traces of perfume on her damp scarf. Orange blossom.

  “Sounds like I’m going to have to plan a trip to Corinthia,” he said as he released her. His body felt the absence immediately, making him wish the sidewalks were more crowded.

  But then she turned her smile on him, and he felt better. “Oh, you should! You would love it. The air smells of grapes and ocean, and in the summer the sky is so blue you swear you could swim in it. We call it Corinthian blue.”

  Like her eyes, he bet. “When I visit, will I get a personal tour from Her Royal Highness?”

  “Of course. You’ll be a royal guest. You can even bring Darius,” she added.

  “Darius in a castle? Now, that I’d like to see.”

  It was a pipe dream. By the time he visited, if ever, she would be married and have a whole new life. He didn’t want to think about that right now. Today was about making memories. Good memories.

  He took her hand. “Come on,” he said. “I’ve got some even better decorations to show you.”

  * * *

  “Only a block farther,” he told her.

  “I can’t believe you won’t even give me a hint as to where we are going,” Arianna said. Although at the moment, she didn’t really care where they went or whether it was close by. She’d heard her child’s heartbeat, the snow was falling like in a fairy tale and Max was holding her hand. If only every day could be this magical.

  She glanced at the man next to her only to get a playful smirk in response. “Honestly, I would have thought you’d guess by now without one. Guess you’re just going to have to wait and see when we get there.”

  So it was some place she knew? Looking around Fifth Avenue, she couldn’t see anything other than storefronts. Beautifully decorated storefronts, but nothing that seemed special enough to warrant a surprise. Wherever he was taking her, if Max thought she would enjoy herself, then she probably would.

  How different it was being with Max. When she was seeing Manolo, there had always been a kernel of doubt in the back of her head. Well-warranted, it turned out. With Max, though, she’d trusted him from the very start. He made her feel safe. More than safe—special. In a way that being royalty or rich never could.

  She had better enjoy it while she could. A week from now, her time in New York would be nothing more than a memory. She would leave and Max would find a new person to help—to make feel special—while she was relegated to the past. Just another face in a never-ending line of charity cases. If she needed proof, she need only look at how he left the exam room while they were listening to the baby’s heartbeat. She yearned to connect with him; he couldn’t leave fast enough.

  For now, however, they were sharing the day, and she planned to savor every moment. There would be plenty of time to be melancholy later on.

  “And, we’re here,” Max announced. He pointed.

  Here, apparently, was a block-sized opening between stores. “You brought me to an alley?”

  “Promenade,” he amended.

  They turned the corner, and Arianna gasped. The promenade, as he’d called it, was a long narrow garden lined with illuminated angels and toy soldiers. Their white lights guided people along a walkway dotted by Christmas trees and plastic candy canes. At the opposite end, barely visible in the snow, Rockefeller Center’s famous statue of Prometheus held court by the skating rink. And in front of him stood the Rockefeller tree, a tower of white-tipped branches.

  “You did say you wanted to see the tree.”

  Yes, she had talked about it. In the taxi, the first night he brought her home. Or rather, to his apartment. And he remembered. There weren’t words to describe what the gesture meant to her.

  “This is a much better view than from 30 Rock.”

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, looking up at one of the angels. The decoration’s white frame disappeared in the snow, making it look like a collection of daytime stars. “I had no idea.”

  “In the summer time, the center aisle is a series of reflecting pools,” Max said, pointing to the strip of red carpet. “I remember my mom took me here once when I was little and I fell in trying to grab the change from the bottom. I had to ride the train home soaking wet. And worse, she wouldn’t let me keep the money.”

  “Poor baby.”

  “You have no idea. I had at least twenty-five cents.”

  Arianna laughed, imagining a childhood Max sitting on a subway car in wet clothes, pouting over his lost quarter. “Striving to be successful even then.”

  “Hey, don’t mock. A quarter is a lot of money to a five-year-old. I could have bought a half a candy bar.”

  More likely, he would have put it in his piggy bank. A man didn’t make himself a millionaire from nothing without a well-ingrained respect for money. She respected that about him. Most of the men in her circle had been born into wealth. To have ample money was a fact they—and she—took for granted. Max, on the other hand, not only understood what it was like to have nothing, but now that he had money he also made a point of helping others.

  It made him all the more a man in her book. She wondered if any woman would be lucky enough to win his heart or if he would remain cynical about love for the rest of his life. Seemed wrong. That a man as good as he be without a partner.

  Not nearly as wrong, though, as it was to be jealous of a woman who didn’t yet exist.

 
To save herself from her thoughts, Arianna pointed to the pavilion where a lot of activity was taking place around the tree. There were people running back and forth, and what looked like scaffolding being erected. “What is going on there? Do you think something is wrong with the tree?”

  “Doubt it,” Max replied. “More likely they’re getting ready for tonight.”

  “Tonight?”

  “The lighting ceremony. Looks like they’re setting up the stage and cameras for the television broadcast. Probably doing a light check, too. Would be pretty embarrassing if the thing didn’t light up.”

  “That happened to my father at the annual palace open house. Someone forgot to connect a switch so only half the tree lit. He laughed it off with a joke about elves, but afterward he was not pleased.”

  “Imagine if that happened in front of thirty million people.”

  “I’d rather not,” she replied, turning her attention back to the stage. “I hadn’t realized the ceremony would be such a spectacle. Can we stay to watch?”

  “Afraid I should go to the restaurant. You can go, though. In fact, I could probably make a few calls and get you a spot near the dais so you wouldn’t have to stand out in the cold waiting for the show to begin.”

  “That’s all right,” she said. “It wouldn’t be the same alone.” Without you. That was what she wanted to say. Everything about today was enhanced by his presence. “I’m sure I’ll see it another time, and if I don’t... It’s only a tree, right?”

  “Right.” His answer didn’t sound as firm as she would have expected, perhaps because he was distracted by something on the platform.

  “Wait right here,” he said suddenly. “I’ll be right back.”

  “All right. Where are you...?” There was no sense finishing her question; he’d already jogged away.

  Cold without his presence beside her, she wrapped her arms around her midsection and watched as his figure disappeared behind the ice-skating rink. What was he up to? A silhouette that looked like it could be him appeared on the stage, but between the snow and the distance, she couldn’t be sure.