by Linda Wisdom
“I know,” Mark murmured. For all the competition between brothers, they were always there for each other when it counted. Mark appreciated Brian’s support, but he wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. “I think for now I’m going to crash early. I’m hoping things will look clearer in the morning.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we don’t go back on duty until day after tomorrow. I guess you’ll be going back to Mom and Dad’s tomorrow,” Brian said.
There was no doubt in his mind what he’d be doing tomorrow. The decision was made, and in his mind, there was no going back. He feared this was only the first of many scary decisions.
Mark took a deep breath. Once he said the words out loud, he knew there would be no going back.
Chapter Nine
“Good morning, dear, did you sleep well?” Cathy greeted Nora when she walked into the kitchen. The older woman wore a bright pink velour robe and looked entirely too wide-awake for Nora, who didn’t consider herself a morning person.
“Yes, I did, thank you,” she replied as if she hadn’t expected to. “Thank you for leaving some crackers for me.” When she woke up, she found a small plate of crackers on the nightstand. After a few, she discovered her stomach wasn’t so touchy when she got up.
“I used to nibble on a few before I tried getting out of bed. I didn’t seem to feel as sick that way.” She handed Nora a mug. “Ginger tea. I know it’s not the same as coffee or even a decent second, but believe me, your stomach wouldn’t appreciate coffee right now anyway.”
She accepted the mug and sipped it cautiously. It tasted better than she thought it would since she’d always been a hard-core coffee drinker.
“Thank you.” She slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar.
“Think you can handle some food now?”
Nora mentally cataloged her stomach. “I would love something.”
Cathy was soon whisking eggs in a bowl and pouring them into an omelette pan.
Nora cupped her hands around the mug, feeling the warmth steal through her palms.
“You’ll feel even better after you eat.” Cathy slid a golden omelette onto a plate. She set it on the breakfast bar along with a plate piled high with toast and another with bacon. “Let’s see. I have orange honey, raspberry jam and blackberry preserves for your toast.”
Nora’s eyes widened with horror. “Oh, Cathy, I can’t eat all that food without exploding!”
“That’s what I’m for.” Lou walked into the kitchen. He looped his arm around Nora’s shoulders for a one-armed hug as he dropped a kiss on top of her head. “Sleep well?”
“Yes, I did,” she said with some surprise.
“Whereby you wouldn’t have if you’d gone home. You would have lain awake worrying all night. Sometimes, sleeping in a strange bed can be a good thing.” Cathy looked at her husband. “I suppose you want an omelette too.”
“A real one,” Lou stressed.
She opened the refrigerator door. “Egg whites are better for your cholesterol.”
“But not as tasty.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and brought over the pot as if to top off Nora’s mug.
“No caffeine for me,” she said regretfully.
He winced. “Sorry.” He handed the second cup to his wife. “One whole egg and two egg whites?” he bargained.
Cathy heaved a sigh. “Don’t blame me if the doctor puts you back on that strict diet.”
Nora spread raspberry jam on her toast and bit into it while cutting her omelette into bite-size pieces. Golden cheese oozed out of it.
“Is there anything you can’t cook?” she asked.
“Custard,” Cathy said promptly. “I can’t bake custard to save my life. It’s the same when I try to bake a custard pie. It always comes out watery.”
“There was that sausage casserole you once tried making,” Lou said, straddling the tall stool next to Nora.
“We don’t mention that.” Cathy placed a glass of orange juice in front of Nora along with a glass of milk. “Drink both of them,” she ordered.
Nora settled for sipping the juice in between bites of omelette and toast.
“I’ve always loved this kitchen,” she mused. “It’s so large yet it’s warm and comfortable.”
“It cost me a small fortune to get it this warm and comfortable,” Lou grumbled good-naturedly. “I rebuilt that Model A to pay for the kitchen.”
“We needed the size what with all the kids and their friends,” Cathy explained, handing Lou his plate. He blew her a kiss and dug into his breakfast.
Nora looked around again. She saw the white curtains with an ivy pattern trailing along the bottoms that was echoed in tiles along the counter. Along one side of the room were polished oak glass-fronted cabinets holding everyday dishes and fine china and glassware. Another corner held a large round oak table and eight chairs but room for probably four more without crowding anyone. The tablecloth was the same pattern as the curtains. A green dish towel hung on a rack over the sink.
She could smell the cooking scents in the air, the rich aroma of coffee mingling with toasted bread and jam.
“When I was growing up, Grammy Fran would fix me oatmeal on cold days,” she recalled. “I hated cold days because I hated oatmeal. She told me it would stick to my bones. I told her that it would also glue my papers together. She’d always laugh and pop a piece of toast in my mouth.” She absently mimicked the movement.
A shave-and-a-haircut knock on the back door announced their visitor before he walked inside.
“Hey, Ma.” Mark kissed her on the cheek. He gazed hungrily at the food. “Am I in time for breakfast?”
“One day, I’d like to have someone cook me breakfast.” Cathy returned to the stove.
“I made you toast this past Mother’s Day,” Lou reminded her.
Cathy looked over her shoulder at Nora and mouthed “burned black” at her. Nora giggled.
“Are you going to eat that piece of bacon?” Mark asked, taking the stool on the other side.
She shook her head. Mark wasted no time stealing the piece and popping it into his mouth.
Nora blinked her eyes.
“What is with that shirt? Some kind of test pattern? Because all I see are spots and red splotches,” Lou said.
Mark looked down. “Dalmatians and fire trucks. I think it’s kind of cool since I couldn’t find a shirt for paramedics so I got the next best thing.”
Lou sighed. “I guess it’s better than some of the disasters you’ve worn.”
“I’m making a statement,” Mark defended his choice.
“Good thing you wear a uniform. That way you don’t scare your patients with some of your choices.”
“Says the man who thinks he can wear three different shades of green and it’s all right,” Cathy pointed out.
“Comes from the woman who has twelve pair of black shoes yet like the rest of us only has two feet.” Lou toasted her with his coffee cup.
“I have ten pairs of black shoes and they all serve a different purpose,” Cathy said self-righteously. She turned to Nora and Mark. “Why don’t you two go out onto the patio? It’s a lovely morning, not too chilly.” She handed Mark a filled plate.
Mark looked around. “Where’s the Brumb?”
“He’s out in the backyard with Jasmine.” Cathy mentioned their German shepherd also known as the family’s oversize lapdog. “I gave them each a steak bone, so they’ll be occupied for hours.”
Mark picked up Nora’s plate along with his own. “Does that sound good to you?”
She picked up her juice glass and the plate with the toast. “All right.”
Nora set out the plates and silverware while Mark adjusted the table’s umbrella so the morning sun wouldn’t hit them directly.
“You better eat your food before it gets cold,” she advised, sitting down in one of the chairs.
“Mom makes great omelettes,” he said, forking up a mouthful. “She used to make them on Saturday mornings before our Little League games.�
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Nora pushed around her food until she chose a small piece and brought it to her lips.
“She’d also make these great orange-iced rolls,” he continued. He heaved a sigh and dropped his fork on his plate. “Oh hell, I can’t do this small talk.”
“Thank God,” she breathed in relief. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry. You don’t have to think I’m going to make things bad for you because I’m not.”
Mark held up his hands. “Wait a minute, what are you sorry for?”
“For getting pregnant! I wasn’t thinking that night and…”
“And I was there too,” he pointed out. He set down his fork, carefully aligning it with his plate. He looked up. “Nora, I’m sorry this happened. I don’t think this was in your life plan, but I will be there for the baby. From now on, you can know that you can count on me. I want to be there. I intend to help out financially and every other way I can help.”
“Thank you,” Nora said numbly. She hadn’t expected him to act so gracious. “But I’m doing fine.”
“You’re not going to be able to work your entire pregnancy,” he said. “And with you being self-employed, you don’t have maternity leave. I know how it works, Nora. You won’t see any income when you’re not working. Please don’t be proud. Let me help where I can whether it’s with your own expenses, medical expenses, whatever you need to set up a nursery. And when the baby’s born, I’m more than willing to help in any way. I’ll take the baby for you whenever I can.”
She slumped back in her seat. “It sounds as if you’ve done a lot of thinking about this,” she said, surprised.
“Only for about the last fifteen hours.” He picked up his coffee mug and sipped the hot liquid. “I’m equally to blame.”
“No, not blame,” she said quickly. “Let’s not use that word in regards to the baby.”
He nodded. “Fine by me. So tell me, when did you find out you were pregnant?”
Nora winced. “Remember the night we went to Syd’s Place? I saw my doctor that morning.”
“A month?” He did some mental calculations. “No, six weeks ago! Why didn’t you tell me that night? How could you keep it a secret for so long?”
“I didn’t know how to say it!” she retorted, feeling her temper rise.
“Didn’t know how to say it?” he snapped. “How about, ‘Remember that night we spent together, Mark? Guess what? We made a baby!’ Did you think about saying that?” His voice rose.
“Yes, I thought about saying that! But I didn’t think the moment was right,” she argued.
“Didn’t think the moment was right,” Mark repeated. “So when would you have considered a perfect moment? When you were in labor? When the kid was graduating from high school?”
Nora shot to her feet. “There is no reason to be sarcastic. Fine, I didn’t tell you the minute I found out, but I was still getting used to the news. Then I come home and there you are. Before I knew it, you’ve kidnapped me and my dog.”
He also stood up. “You went willingly!”
“It was still more like a shanghai,” she argued, tossing her napkin onto the table. “You know what? You are an impossible man to talk to. You don’t listen! You never listen! You do what you want and the hell with everyone else. Well, guess what, Mark Walker, the hell with you!” She spun on her heel and stalked back to the house.
“This isn’t over!” he yelled after her.
Her reply was the door slamming shut behind her.
Mark dropped back into his chair muttering curses on stubborn women. A soft whine sounded near his knee. He looked down and found Brumby gently pawing at his leg.
“Your mistress is a stubborn woman,” he told the dog as he fed him a piece of egg.
“Son, one thing you need to remember for the coming months is that no matter what you say to a pregnant woman, you will be wrong. Just smile, admit you’re wrong and take it from there.” Lou stopped by the table. He held his coffee mug in one hand.
“She’s known for weeks. And she’s talked to me since then. She could have said something.”
“Like I said, apologize, and if you’re lucky she won’t murder you. Well, I’ve got a carburetor to rebuild.” He ambled off toward the large garage where he housed his automobile-restoration business. “Welcome to the club, Mark.”
“What club?” Mark called after him.
Lou looked over his shoulder and grinned. “The Daddy’s Club.”
Mark slumped back in his chair. There was that word again. He didn’t have enough time to learn to be a dad. He wondered if Nora would mind having a longer pregnancy than the usual nine months. Maybe it could last a few years or so. By then, he might be ready for fatherhood. He dropped one hand and absently scratched Brumby’s ears. “You’re getting a younger brother or sister, Brumb. I bet you’ll be a great big brother, but don’t worry, you won’t be ignored. I’ll take you for walks and play ball with you. Whatever you want to do.” He felt a slight pressure against his leg. He looked down and groaned. “Okay, I can see exactly what you want to do.”
Nora walked outside and stopped short at the sight before her.
“Making friends with my dog will not help your case,” she said coolly.
“He was the one who came on to me.” Mark gently pushed Brumby to one side.
He could have sworn her lips twitched, but the movement was quickly masked so he wasn’t sure if he’d just imagined it. He hoped that meant she wasn’t still angry with him. Then he saw the spark in her eyes.
Oh yeah, she still wasn’t too happy with him.
She stood in front of him with her hands folded in front of her.
“I will not deny you access to the baby,” she said primly. “If you’re willing to help out with the larger expenses, I’m not too proud to accept any help. I can add the baby to my medical plan if you don’t want to add him or her to yours. Or we can see which one has the better benefits.” She looked as serene as a woodland stream.
“I’ll check on mine as soon as possible and let you know,” he replied, treading lightly. He remembered his dad warning him about hormones. Memories surfaced of Jeff and Brian moaning about Abby’s and Gail’s erratic moods during their pregnancies. And wasn’t there something about prospective mothers getting some kind of nesting instinct? Nora might want to put everything in order right away. His imagination took over. Or was there another reason she wanted to have things in order?
“Are you feeling all right?” he asked.
She looked surprised by his question. “Other than morning sickness, I’ve been all right, why?”
“With all you’ve been talking about, I felt as if something might be wrong,”
Nora’s eyes flared emerald fire. “There is nothing wrong with me or the baby. Obviously, you haven’t been listening to me. I merely wanted you to feel a part of the pregnancy. Maybe we need to talk when you feel ready to listen.” She turned on her heel and walked away. “Brumby, come!”
The bulldog looked up at Mark as if to say, “Sorry, guy, but she’s the one who feeds me.” He got to his feet and trotted after his mistress.
“Damn that woman!” Mark closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I stayed up half the night trying to figure out what to say to her, left my apartment early this morning without even a cup of coffee to get my internal engine running and came out here only to have her insult me when I’m trying to do the right thing.”
“Mark.”
He opened one eye. His mother stood at the edge of the patio. He noticed she’d taken the time to dress in jeans and a long-sleeved plaid cotton shirt in varied shades of blues and greens with a blue sweater.
“I’m taking Nora home,” she told him.
“I told her I’d take her home,” he protested.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea, dear.”
“What would be a good idea, Mom?” He was feeling beyond frustration by then. “What in the hell does Nora think is a good idea? Has she figured out that she needs a gu
y with the daddy gene? Is that the problem here? If that’s the case, I could have told her that right off.”
The last thing he expected to see on his mother’s face was pity.
“I think that’s something you’ll need to figure out for yourself, dear.” She walked back to the house.
Mark heard Nora’s voice mingled with his mother’s and soon the sounds of Cathy’s car moving down the driveway. A cold nose nuzzled his hand. A tan and black German shepherd whined and pushed at his hand again.
“Hey, Jasmine,” he greeted his parents’ dog. “You’re probably the only sane female I’ve been around for the past two days.”
The dog planted her front feet in his lap and licked at his face then gave another woof and pushed off with her feet as she jumped back and ran off.
“Augh!” Mark gulped for air. “Great. One female unmans me with words. Another tries doing it with her paws.” He slowly rose to his feet. He started to walk gingerly away then recalled long-honored rules. He turned back, picked up the dishes and carried them into the house. After rinsing them off and putting them in the dishwasher, he wrote out a note and put it on the counter before he left the house.
ALL THE WAY BACK to his apartment, Mark replayed each word Nora had said to him and what he’d said in return. Try as he might, he couldn’t understand what he’d said that she’d found so objectionable. He’d been tempted to go out to the garage and talk to his dad, but if his dad was rebuilding a carburetor, he’d expect Mark to help and Mark didn’t visualize spending his day off working on a car.
The minute he got back to his apartment, he threw off his jeans and shirt and pulled on running shorts and a tank top. He walked down to a park near his house and took off on his favorite trail.
Long ago, Mark discovered he could solve his problems easier when he was running. All he needed was a decent trail and he could convince himself he could solve the problems of the world. He wasn’t surprised that Jeff and Brian were closer to each other than he was with them. It had nothing to do with the age difference, but because Mark tended to keep his problems to himself.
When he reached the fork in the path where the left side would take him up an incline for the more experienced runner and the right for the novice, he didn’t hesitate in turning left. Ten minutes later, he was running in place at the top of the incline. Below him were one of the two baseball fields. One field was empty while on the other one was a man and a small boy. Mark was too far away to get much of an idea of the boy except that he couldn’t have been more than six or seven. The man, obviously his father, was hunkered down, showing the little boy how to properly hold the small bat and how to hit a home run.