by Linda Wisdom
Mark knew he should have kept on running, but he couldn’t stop watching the duo. The man stood a short distance from the boy and threw the ball underhanded in an easy pitch. The boy swung too soon and completely missed the ball. His shoulders drooped and he looked frustrated. The man straightened up and went over, again showing him what to do. Mark couldn’t miss the patience in the man’s manner as he worked with the little boy.
How many hours had his dad spent with him showing him how to pitch a curveball? How to bat? How to properly throw a football? No matter how busy Lou was restoring a car, he always found time to play with his sons.
Mark could see that same attitude in his brothers. He remembered last Christmas when Jeff put together two tricycles for his girls. It hadn’t been a pretty sight. Luckily, the twins never saw, or heard, their dad’s frustration putting the bikes together. The next day, Jeff was out there watching them happily pedal on their tricycles and making sure they didn’t fall off. He recalled Brian sitting cross-legged on the ground with a sleeping Jennifer draped across his shoulder.
His two brothers had turned into their father.
Mark had no aspirations to be Father of the Year. He had no biological clock ticking away, no sudden need to procreate a mini Mark just because he was over thirty.
He had joked that the daddy gene stopped at Brian and that was fine with him because it gave him more time to play. It wasn’t entirely true.
How was he going to tell his father and brothers that he didn’t think he could live up to their standards of fatherhood? That he didn’t think he could be the great dad figure they’d been from the beginning?
Mark considered himself the fun-loving brother. He was the guy always ready at a moment’s notice to head down to Mexico for fishing. Or take off for a weekend of nightlife in Las Vegas. Jeff and Brian couldn’t do that. Instead, their time off was spent with their kids, even looking after them to give Abby and Gail a break.
Mark figured he wasn’t meant to have that kind of responsibility.
Then fate had played a crazy joke on him. It took Nora and him, mixed them up together in a situation where they couldn’t stop themselves, and the result was a baby.
He had trouble visualizing a little person who would call him Daddy. This was a new chapter in his life and he wondered how he would handle it. Could he be a real dad to his child and not just a father, a sperm donor?
So much for his run clearing his mind. All it did was give him a lot more questions to figure out.
NORA DROPPED another damp tissue into the wastebasket with one hand while pulling another out of the box by her hip. She sniffed and blew her nose in a less than ladylike manner.
Brumby whined and pawed her leg, which was covered by a taupe, rust and cream–colored afghan her grandmother had knitted for her.
After a dinner of her favorite Chinese chicken salad, Nora changed into her favorite flannel nightgown and settled down to a movie marathon.
“I’m okay, boy,” she sniffed, reaching down to give Brumby a reassuring pat. “I never realized a car commercial could make me cry. But the little girl was so cute.” She wiped her eyes.
Earlier in the day, after Cathy dropped her off at home, Nora left the house to do some grocery shopping and pick up some books on pregnancy at the library. Cathy had mentioned there were some excellent Web sites on the Internet, but Nora was one of the very few who were still computer illiterate. She had a computer, but she only used it to keep records on her clients and type an occasional letter.
Nora spent the afternoon reading books on pregnancy. She wasn’t surprised to learn morning sickness can happen any time of the day or night and roller-coaster emotions due to her changing hormones were normal. Been there. Done that.
After she ate her dinner, she sorted through her collection of DVDs and pulled out every romantic movie she owned. She lit several candles and set them around the room to add to the mood even if it was just her as audience. Between the movie marathon and a brand-new package of chocolate-covered graham crackers, she felt content.
All it took was a scene in one movie showing an automobile commercial and she was crying as if she was watching a sad film.
Nora blew her nose again. She reached down and scratched Brumby behind the ears. He uttered soft growling sounds.
She smiled at her dog’s sounds of pure joy. “Typical male. It doesn’t take much to satisfy you as long as I find the right spot.”
In a way, it didn’t take much to satisfy Mark either, did it, Nora? Just that flick of the finger or even a flick of the tongue in just the right place.
“Out damn thought,” she paraphrased Shakespeare in a desperate attempt to halt the flood of memories.
Easier said than done once the door had been opened.
Nora recalled the incredible care Mark took with her, as if she were some fragile piece of china. He acted as if they had all the time in the world. His ignoring her entreaties when she was positive she would go insane if he didn’t take the final step she needed for fulfillment. The cool touch of his fingertips stroking her inner thigh may have lit the flame, but she experienced flash point when he replaced his fingers with the heat of his mouth. It was as if he knew exactly where her most sensitive areas were. That he could easily arouse her with a mere word. And in the end, how he made her feel as if she was the most beautiful woman in the world.
No wonder she had woken up that morning with a smile on her lips. The man was definitely a gifted lover.
Not that everything that happened that night had been one-sided. That night, Nora had gotten the chance to discover what drove Mark wild. His unbridled response had made it easy for her to throw herself into her explorations.
She shifted uneasily on the couch as a low simmering heat developed deep within her belly. For a moment she considered dousing herself with her glass of lime-flavored water. Instead, she settled for stuffing another chocolate-covered graham cracker in her mouth and chewed furiously.
Of course, he knew how to make her body sing. How many women had he dated—if you wanted to call it that—since they had broken up? How many women had he made love to since then?
She jammed another cracker in her mouth.
“I wish I had some marshmallows and candy bars,” she mused with an unladylike sniff. “I could fix some killer S’mores with these graham crackers.”
She drifted off in thought, thinking of heading for the grocery store to pick up the needed supplies. Then she realized acquiring the necessary ingredients would require her getting dressed and going out.
Nora looked down at Brumby who was shamelessly begging for his share. “Too bad Vons doesn’t deliver.” She named the grocery store that was a few blocks away.
“I WANT TO GO to your doctor’s appointment with you.”
Nora frowned. She hadn’t slept well the night before, so she didn’t feel at her sharpest. She had no one to blame but herself and two packages of chocolate-covered graham crackers. Her first appointment wasn’t until late morning, so she took her time getting up, which her stomach greatly appreciated.
“Who is this?” she asked sweetly.
“Very funny, Nor.”
“Ah yes, the infamous Walker growl. Why do you feel the need to go to my doctor’s appointment with me?”
“Because this baby is mine too. I want to be with you every step of the way.” He lowered his voice. “If I give you my schedule, are you willing to work around it?”
She had told him she wanted him to be a part of the baby’s life.
“Of course I will.” She shifted onto her side. “My next appointment is scheduled in two weeks on Monday.”
“I’ll be off duty on that day. Just tell me what time and where and I’ll be there. Or I can pick you up,” he offered.
Nora strained her ears in an attempt to identify the background noise. “Are you at the station?”
“Unfortunately,” he grumbled. “Do you know what they do to prospective fathers here?”
“No, I’ve never been privy to that form of male bonding.” Her lips curved in a smile. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she had a pretty good idea that he was the butt of everyone’s joke.
“They get a cake that looks like something from a baby shower. Then they make up a condom tree as a reminder why you’re going to be a father.”
“Meaning if you’d used one and so on,” she said.
“Exactly. Then they bring in a baby safety seat, which is a pretty nice one, by the way. I’ll drop it off to you after I’m off duty. The guys bought quality,” Mark said. “But they added something to the car seat. They put in a doll that cries. And wets,” he muttered. “I have no desire to see what else the doll does.”
Nora couldn’t hold back her giggle. “I think that’s sweet.”
“These guys aren’t sweet. They’re diabolical. They also gave me six books on bringing up baby. I’ve been told I will be tested on their contents.” He didn’t sound eager about the prospects. “I think they meant it.”
“Who originally thought up the idea to give male baby showers?” she asked, certain she already knew the answer. All she heard was a mumble. “What was that? I couldn’t understand you.”
He heaved a deep sigh. “I said it was my idea. We gave one for Brian and it sorta took off from there.”
“Which meant Brian and the others decided they had the chance to come up with major payback,” she guessed correctly.
“In spades,” he admitted.
Nora smiled. She knew Mark’s penchant for practical jokes. “But they didn’t have your style, did they?” she said. “They dared enter your arena for the wild and wacky, but I bet they didn’t come up to your standards.”
“True.” He sounded mollified by her verbal soothing of his ruffled feathers. “I, at least, would have come up with a better limerick on the cake.”
“Then it sounds as if they hadn’t truly studied the master,” she cooed. She wiggled her toes under the covers. “Give them credit for trying.”
“I’ll give them an A for effort.”
“Next time you’ll be in charge and you can show them how it’s done,” she reminded him.
Silence hung heavy from the other end of the phone line.
“You just patted me on the head, and if you could have, you would have given me a cookie, wouldn’t you?”
Nora ignored the suspicion in his tone. “Of course not. But you feel better, don’t you?”
“You’ve spent way too much time with my sister,” he groused.
Nora glanced at the clock and gasped. “I have to go or I’ll be late! Thank them for the safety seat and bring me a slice of the cake too.” She disconnected the call and almost flew off the bed. Luckily, by then, her stomach had settled down.
She quickly showered and applied makeup. As she dressed, she stood sideways to gaze at her profile in the mirror. She pouched out her tummy to get a better idea what she’d look like in a few more months.
“So will I look as if I swallowed a Ping-Pong ball or a beach ball?” she mused, turning this way and that, entranced with everything that was going on inside her.
She reached for her favorite heather-green pants and discovered she couldn’t fasten them.
“I guess this is goodbye until next year,” she murmured, hanging them back up. She settled on a smoky-blue dress that wasn’t fitted around the waist and paired it with midheeled slides that were nothing more than a few strips of leather in two shades of gray.
After making sure the doggie door was unlocked for Brumby, she ran out of the house.
Nora reached the Steppin’ Out Salon and Day Spa in record time. She parked next to Ginna’s classic black Mustang convertible and hurried through the back door. The moment she crossed the threshold she felt herself instantly relax thanks to the hint of fragrance in the air that CeCe, the owner, felt was calming to the soul. Nora swore the aroma was never the same from day to day, but it always seemed to be just what she needed.
As if thinking her boss’s name was a magic spell, CeCe seemed to materialize from the end of the hall. As always, the dark-haired woman personified elegance. With her classic cheekbones, full-lipped mouth and a figure any woman would admire she could have been thirty or sixty. To date, no one had been able to figure out the mystery that was their boss.
“How are you feeling, chérie?” the older woman asked in her lightly accented voice. “Your stomach is not upset this morning?”
Nora felt her jaw drop. “How did you know?”
CeCe smiled. “Some things a woman just knows.” She laid her hand on Nora’s arm. “If you start feeling unwell, you must go lie down. Or see if Phoebe can give you one of her aromatherapy facials. I always found sniffing a sprig of mint helped. We also have some ginger tea that should help you.”
“I’ll remember that. Thank you.” Nora walked out to her station. Ginna was standing behind her chair talking to Cheryl, one of the nail techs who worked in the salon, as she deftly threaded the golden-brown strands into an intricate braid that hung down Cheryl’s back.
“Braids always make me think of Heidi,” Cheryl said, staring in the mirror as Ginna worked.
Ginna laughed. “I dare Gary to call you Heidi.” Her fingers were a blur of motion as she mentioned Cheryl’s boyfriend.
“We’re still in that bliss part where we think neither can do any wrong.” She sighed. “And he’s so darn cute.”
“Is there anyone here who isn’t in the first throes of love?” Nora asked, stashing her purse in a bottom drawer at her station.
“Me,” Phoebe confessed. She picked up a tube of hand cream on the counter and squeezed a dime-size dollop into the palm of one hand. “Blind Date Central let me down again.”
“Welcome to the club,” Nora told her. “I gave up because it seemed all I dated were duds.”
“The only good man who was up there was my brother and you all missed out,” Ginna announced.
“No offense, Gin, but Brian’s too nice,” Phoebe explained. “I like someone a little dangerous.”
“This last one wasn’t dangerous?” Nora asked.
“This last one’s idea of living dangerously was to leave his credit cards at home,” she said glumly.
The other three women immediately offered their sympathy.
“What about you, Nora?” Ginna asked, a sly look in her eyes. “What do you consider the perfect man?”
Irreverent. Fun-loving. The kind of man your grandmother adores.
Not that she’d dare admit that to her friend.
Nora settled for a bland smile and a stock answer. “Someone who’s breathing.”
Chapter Ten
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go with you to your doctor’s appointment?” Ginna asked. “I can cancel my lunch with Zach.”
“As crazy as it sounds, I can still drive myself,” Nora replied.
Ginna dropped into Nora’s chair. “Nora, you are one of the most together people I know. Well, except for that insane dating period you went through, and we won’t even discuss that philosophy professor you dated.”
“As if I would know he believed I was his queen four thousand years ago,” Nora argued.
“On another planet!”
“Actually, in another galaxy. And let’s not forget that Mrs. Crockett has otherworldly visitors all the time.”
“At least they give her some incredible things to write about. Did you read her latest yet?” Ginna picked up a brush and ran it through her hair. “Zach wants to send her roses.” Her eyes took on a sultry cast as she recalled that night.
“I’m still waiting for you to give me back the last stories she brought in,” Nora reminded her.
Ginna twisted her hair up on top of her head and secured it with a couple of pins. “I’ll make a copy. So, you’re sure you don’t want company at the doctor’s?”
Nora looked in the mirror and watched the front door open. Mark stepped inside.
“Very sure.” She watched him smile and
speak to the receptionist, point in her direction and head her way.
“Ladies. Actually, one lady, one pain in the butt.” Mark grinned at Nora. “Are you ready?”
Ginna looked at her brother then at Nora. “He’s going with you?”
“He is the father,” Nora reminded her.
Ginna swiveled in her chair so she could face Mark.
“I still haven’t forgiven you,” she stated in an imperious tone.
“I still haven’t forgiven you for telling Lynne Michaels I had a nasty rash in an unspeakable place,” he countered.
“She didn’t have to believe me.”
Mark shook his head. “You have no idea how evil this creature is,” he told Nora.
Nora looked at Ginna. “It would have been funnier if you’d have faked some photographs of some kind of icky rash to give her.”
“Rats!” Ginna snapped her fingers in frustration. “I could have used you back then.” She smirked at her brother. “Never underestimate the power of friendship, little brother.” Her gaze slid over him. “Don’t you own any normal shirts that are acceptable for when you go out in public?”
Mark looked down at his shirt. The blinding profusion of turquoise and red macaws perched on green branches that boasted bright yellow blossoms made him an easy target. “It’s a gloomy day. I thought the shirt would cheer it up,” he said simply.
“Or blind it,” she muttered.
Nora slipped on her jacket. She picked up her purse, settling the strap over her shoulder. “We have to go.”
“I’ll want details,” Ginna called after them.
“She’s not just sneaky, she’s also very bloodthirsty,” Mark said as he guided Nora out of the salon.