Pregnancy Countdown

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Pregnancy Countdown Page 22

by Linda Wisdom


  All around him women in various stages of pregnancy were studying furniture or oohing and aahing over the large selection of tiny clothing.

  “May I help you, sir?” A woman with a tag in the shape of a cherub that stated her name was Teri approached him. Her snowy-white hair was pulled up and back into a bun on top of her head and tiny glasses perched on an even tinier nose. She could have been someone’s grandmother.

  “Uh, yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I’m—ah—I’m having a baby,” he admitted. “And, well, your catalog was lying around.” For the first time he was speechless. How did he explain he found the catalog in Nora’s stack of magazines? He’d picked it up and noticed it had pages folded down and items circled. “I want to surprise her,” he said finally. “And I hope she won’t kill me for doing this.”

  “Why would she be angry?” the clerk asked. “I think what you’re planning is a lovely idea.” She fairly beamed at him.

  “She’s a redhead.” Mark figured that would say it all. “And pregnant, to boot.”

  Teri smiled and nodded. “Do you know the sex of your child?”

  Mark’s grin widened. “A girl.”

  “Girls are much more fun to shop for than boys,” she confided. “Although, I guess most fathers would prefer shopping for a son.”

  “Hel-ah-heck, I’m excited about shopping for a little girl,” he admitted.

  Teri smiled. “Have the two of you made any decisions on what theme you’d like for the nursery?”

  He reached in his back pocket and took out the small catalog. He opened it to the pages Nora had folded down and handed it to the clerk.

  “A lovely set,” she agreed. “Your wife has excellent taste. If you’d like, we have an area where we can set up requested furniture so the prospective parents can get an idea what it would look like in their home,” she suggested.

  “Could you have it set up by tonight?” Mark asked, liking the idea.

  Teri looked over the pages. Her eyes lit up.

  “Let’s get started, shall we?” With the feminine force of a battleship, she herded him toward the cribs.

  Mark didn’t have a chance.

  NORA HAD JUST FINISHED her last client and was cleaning up her station when Mark walked into the salon.

  “If you hurt her, I will not only tear out your heart, I will personally stomp on it,” Ginna said in a pleasant voice as she glided past her brother.

  “I love you too, much older sis.”

  Ginna shook her head. “If you weren’t a prospective father…” Her voice trailed off.

  Nora chuckled as she dumped hair clippings into the wastebasket.

  “You shouldn’t be doing that.” Mark swooped in and took the broom from her hands.

  “We’re not talking something heavy-duty,” she told him. “Let me get my jacket.”

  Mark dropped into her chair and idly swung it back and forth. He leaned forward and studied himself in the mirror.

  “You need a trim.” Nora appeared behind him. She ran her hands through his hair. She pressed down on his shoulders when he started to get up. She leaned down and murmured in his ear, “Don’t worry, I promise not to cut off anything important.” Her eyes danced with laughter as she swept a drape around him. She picked up a spray bottle and misted his hair. She combed it through then picked up her scissors.

  “I didn’t expect you to cut my hair,” Mark said, watching her section off his hair and snip. He quickly discovered he liked having her hands in his hair. He only wished they were in a more private place while she ran her hands through his hair.

  “You sit in my chair, you get your hair worked on.” In no time, she had stray ends neatly trimmed. She used the hair dryer to style it into order.

  “Wow.” Mark peered at his reflection. “Don’t tell Gin, but you’re better.”

  She grinned back. “I give great haircuts. And no. Do not insult me that way.” She stopped his action when he pulled out his wallet.

  “Okay, but that means I better take you to someplace fancier than Mickey D’s,” He used the popular slang for McDonald’s.

  “Darn straight. I expect to be given a menu, not have to read my choices off a wall.” She looped her purse over her shoulder.

  “Syd’s Place?” Mark asked as he helped her into his truck.

  “Coconut shrimp? Oh yes,” she practically purred, settling back in the seat.

  Mark switched on the heater immediately.

  “I stopped by the house and fed the Brumb, so you don’t have to worry about him,” he told her.

  Nora looked surprised he’d thought to check on her dog, although she knew, contrary to his jokes about her beloved bulldog, he did care about him. “Thank you.”

  “After dinner, if you don’t feel too tired, I thought we could stop and check something out,” Mark said.

  “Check what out?”

  He grinned. “You’ll see.”

  Nora believed in not allowing curiosity ever to overtake her life. She blamed it on hormones that curiosity about Mark’s cryptic statement was eating her alive. For the first time she didn’t fully enjoy her favorite meal. Any question she directed to Mark about their next destination was met with nothing more than a mysterious smile and a murmured “you’ll see.” By the time they finished dinner and were back in the truck, Nora felt ready to burst.

  “Are we there yet?” She sang out the age-old question given by many children on a road trip. “Are we there yet?” She kept repeating the words.

  “No wonder my parents hated having all of us in one vehicle,” Mark muttered. He clicked the turn signal and slowed down for a right turn.

  Nora turned her head in the same direction. “Why are we at All For Baby?” she murmured.

  Mark parked the truck and hopped out. He helped Nora down.

  “Because we’re having a baby,” he replied, guiding her toward the door. “And they have everything a baby needs.”

  The minute they stepped inside, Nora cocked her head and sniffed.

  “Baby powder,” Mark murmured in her ear. “Cute, huh?”

  “I still want to know why we’re here.” She allowed him to lead her toward a sales desk. She wondered what exactly he was up to.

  “Hi, I’m Mark Walker. We’re for the viewing,” he told the clerk who Nora was convinced was all of twelve. Her cherub’s badge proclaimed her name was Tiffany.

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh yes! Teri spent all afternoon making sure it would be perfect,” she confided. She looked past him at Nora and fairly beamed. “You have such a wonderful husband.” She walked around the counter to them. “Right back here.”

  Nora started to follow her, but Mark stopped her. He whipped out a bandana and tied it around her eyes.

  “Mark!” She reached up, but he lightly slapped her hands.

  “Wait for the surprise,” he told her. “Don’t worry. It’s clean.”

  Not able to see a thing, she took his hand as he guided her through the store.

  “What is going on?” she asked.

  “Just another minute,” he promised.

  He stopped her then turned her slowly to one side. “Okay.”

  She pulled off the bandana and then just stared.

  “Well?”

  Nora looked at the three walls with each painted a different pastel color. She saw the crib she’d looked at in the baby catalog along with the changing table, chest of drawers, a baby swing in one corner and a playpen in another. Even a rocking chair sat under the faux window.

  “Feel free to go in,” Tiffany told her. “Did your husband do a great job or what?”

  Nora slowly stepped into the display and ran her hand along the top of the crib. She picked up a dainty crocheted pillow. She turned her head to look at Mark.

  “You chose all this?” she asked in a small voice. She held the pillow against her breasts. She didn’t miss the wary expression in his eyes. She couldn’t remember ever seeing him look unsure of himself. Mark was the most self-assured man she kn
ew.

  “Just the night-light,” he admitted, walking over to the chest of drawers and fingering the castle that emitted a soft light. He shrugged. “I thought it was kinda cool.”

  “If you approve, Mrs. Walker, we can deliver it all tomorrow,” Tiffany explained with a perky smile.

  Nora shot Mark a look filled with panic.

  “Do you like it?” he asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  He didn’t take his eyes off Nora’s face as he pulled out his wallet and extracted his credit card. He handed it to the clerk.

  Nora walked over to him and grabbed his shirtfront. “What are you doing? Do you realize how much this all costs?”

  “No arguments, woman. I want to do this.”

  She tried to blink the tears back, but they trailed down her cheeks anyway. She cupped his face with her hands and kissed him with every ounce of feeling inside her. He reacted instantly and wrapped his arms around her.

  They were so lost in each other it took a minute for them to realize applause was in the background. They broke apart and looked to one side. A small group of couples stood there with smiles on their faces.

  “Why can’t you do something romantic like that?” One woman smacked her husband lightly on the chest.

  “So I did good?” Mark asked, his breath warm against her ear.

  Nora’s smile wobbled dangerously. “Oh yes.”

  Nora kept her hand on Mark’s thigh all the way back to her house.

  “It’s still too much money,” she protested, but it sounded a little faint. “I heard the total, Mark.”

  “I think I just sent Teri’s kids through college,” he joked. When he stopped at a stop sign, he turned to her. “I wanted to do something special for you, Nora.”

  “You did.”

  At the house, Mark followed Nora inside. Brumby greeted them with rumbling barks.

  “Do you want something to drink?” Mark headed for the kitchen.

  “I’m pregnant. I seem to spend half my time in the bathroom and you ask me if I want something to drink,” she chuckled, walking down the hall.

  Mark rummaged through a dog-shaped cookie jar and pulled out a rawhide stick that he handed to a happy Brumby. He waited until he heard the bathroom door open.

  Nora walked into the kitchen. Mark handed her a glass of sparkling water.

  She started yawning.

  “I’m sorry,” she apologized, laughing. “I’m needing more sleep lately.”

  “That’s because you’re sleeping for two.” He took the glass out of her hand and turned her around. “Time for bed for you.” He gently pushed her back into the bedroom.

  “I still can’t believe you bought all that,” she marveled. “How did you know?”

  “I saw the catalog and what you marked,” he explained. “I went by the store after I dropped you off at the salon. They were only too happy to set up everything you’d marked so you’d see what the pieces would look like together.”

  “I don’t have the room painted yet,” she argued.

  “I have the next couple of days off, so all you have to do is pick out the paint and I’ll do the work. I can tell the store to hold off delivering everything until the room is ready.”

  She blinked away her tears. “If I’m not in the bathroom I’m crying,” she said, making fun of herself.

  Mark pulled her into his arms and cradled her face against his chest.

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m so absorbent,” he said gently. “I can’t help out by carrying the baby or going through all that, so I’ll do what I can.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “You’re not going to make me go home, are you?” he whispered in her ear. He breathed in the unique scent of her perfume. “Did I tell you Jeff snores? The first time I heard him I thought a freight train was going through the apartment. We won’t even talk about him staying up all night channel surfing for Michelle Pfeiffer movies because she’s Abby’s favorite actress. If you let me stay I’ll even let you put your cold feet on me.”

  She chuckled. “How can I refuse such a generous offer?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Mom always made it look so easy.

  Mark winced as he glanced around the kitchen that looked like the center of an avant-garde painting.

  He’d woken up early and thought he’d surprise Nora with breakfast. His idea of breakfast at home was a couple of power bars and coffee or a stop at the closest coffee shop.

  But he’d seen his mother make omelettes a lot of times and Sean whipped up breakfast at the station. How hard could it be? When he discovered there were only a couple of eggs in the refrigerator, he decided to make waffles instead. Now he was afraid he might have used too much milk in the batter because it was running over the sides of her waffle iron and onto the counter.

  “Damn!” He been so busy trying to mop up the mess on the counter, he hadn’t realized it was dripping onto the floor. Brumby headed straight for what he thought was an extra treat. He carefully nudged Brumby to one side with his foot. When the bulldog protested, Mark opened the back door and pushed him outside. He ignored his howl.

  “What are you doing?”

  This howl was human. And feminine.

  Mark spun around but one foot landed in the batter puddle on the floor. He started sliding and ran into the table. Like the domino theory, the chair he tried to grab so he could keep his balance tipped to one side and he fell to the other side.

  A pungent curse escaped his lips as the back of his head connected with the tile floor.

  “Are you all right?”

  When he opened his eyes, he found Nora standing over him. A look of concern darkened her eyes. She held out her hand, but he shook his head then wished he hadn’t.

  “I was making breakfast.” He sat up then grabbed hold of the table to pull himself up the rest of the way.

  Nora turned in a slow circle.

  “Really?” She didn’t sound convinced.

  Mark snagged a couple of dish towels and dropped them onto the floor. He used his foot to tamp them down. At a slight sound that could have been distress, he looked up.

  “I’m cleaning up,” he hurriedly assured her.

  “That’s what paper towels are for,” she choked out, staring at the mess on the floor.

  “Let me get the kitchen cleaned up and I’ll take you out to breakfast,” Mark promised.

  Nora started to say more, when she turned her head. She looked toward one of the counters. “What is that?”

  Mark turned around and pretended surprise. “It looks like a box.” He walked over and examined the top. He held up a large tag with Nora’s name printed on it. “It’s for you.”

  She shook her head. “Will I be seeing a miniature of what I saw last night?”

  He grinned. “Beats me. Open it and find out.”

  Nora walked over and tore the brightly patterned paper away from the box. She laughed as the box revealed that it held a coffeemaker.

  “We’re talking state-of-the-art here,” Mark announced with the theatrics of a game show host. “It does everything but serve you coffee in bed, so I guess I’ll have to stick around for that. Once you’re allowed coffee again, that is.” He grinned at the bright color dotting her cheeks. “And here you thought all you were getting was a nursery.”

  She kept shaking her head. “You must have maxed out your credit card with the nursery alone. And now this.”

  “Call it selfish. As you must have seen yesterday morning, I’m not exactly myself when I haven’t had my morning coffee.” He surveyed the mess around him. “I guess that means today too.”

  Nora threw her arms around him. “You are a crazy man!”

  “Then save me from insanity by marrying me.”

  She dropped her arms.

  Mark smiled faintly. “I’m serious, Nora. Marry me.”

  Nora stepped back. “You said something about going out to breakfast,” she said. “I’m afraid you’ll have to use the mop to clean up the ba
tter. Just dump everything else in the sink and I’ll take care of it later. I don’t have any appointments today.”

  Mark froze. “Maybe you didn’t hear me. I asked you to marry me.”

  She didn’t look at him. “I’m going to get dressed.” She left the kitchen.

  A baffled Mark stared after her.

  “You’re supposed to scream and say yes,” he muttered, looking for the mop.

  Mark didn’t miss that all through breakfast, Nora touched on every subject but his proposal. He also didn’t miss that she pushed her food around on her plate and only nibbled at her scrambled eggs. He wasn’t sure he had much appetite for his ranch house scramble that had peppers and cheese in his scrambled eggs served on top of crispy hash-browned potatoes. But when he looked down, his plate was clean, so either Nora had been sneaking bites of his food or he’d been hungrier than he thought.

  He’d wisely not said another word about his proposal. He’d wait until they were alone.

  “I called the store and asked if they could hold off delivering the furniture for a week,” he announced. “That will give me time to paint the room.”

  “I can paint it.”

  He shook his head. “Not a good idea in your condition. It’s not just the paint fumes. You’d have to do a lot of bending and stretching. I’ll get Jeff to help me. You just pick out the paint.”

  She arched an eyebrow. “How magnanimous of you.”

  He grinned. He was glad to see a spark of color in her cheeks and glimmer in her eyes that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. He was even happier when Nora picked up her fork and began eating instead of just pushing her food around.

  Now all he had to do is jolt her into giving him a positive answer to his question.

  “I REMEMBER PAINTING the nursery when we were expecting the twins.” Jeff held the paint roller in one hand, now forgotten.

  “Funny, what I remember is Mark and I painting the nursery while you and Abby argued about how much longer she should be working,” Brian recalled.

  “Yeah, Abby said she’d keep on working until the babies were ready to pop out, and you wanted her to stay home and take it easy,” Mark said, picking up the conversational ball. He turned to Brian. “Didn’t Abby go straight to the hospital from work?”

 

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