by Janice Lynn
“Your Adam doesn’t love you?”
Once upon a time she’d believed with her whole heart that Adam loved her. She’d been a naïve, trusting fool. “No, he doesn’t love me.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive.”
An odd look passed over Nannie’s face and for a moment her smile slipped, then her expression brightened again. “Tell me about this man who has your heart.”
Tell her about Adam? She’d rather not talk about him. Not think about him.
“Tell me when you first knew you loved him,” the woman encouraged, a far-away look lighting her eyes. “There’s nothing more healing than new love.”
When had she first known she loved Adam?
She’d really like to just ignore Nannie’s request, feign tiredness, and get lost in her own thoughts. But the woman looked so wistful, so expectant, Liz didn’t have the heart.
“It’s nothing terribly romantic,” she warned, just in case Nannie was expecting something straight out of a romance novel.
“Love is always romantic when one looks through the eyes of the lover. Never forget that.”
Liz eyed the older lady with renewed wonder. Nannie’s face glowed with excitement. Talking with the cheery woman made something inside Liz not hurt quite so much, so she smiled in return.
“My grandfather was ill for a very long time,” she began. “I lived with him from the time I was a little girl, and after he got sick I provided his evening and night care. His doctor had told me only the day before that he wouldn’t live much longer and to be prepared.”
She’d not wanted to believe, had refused to believe she was going to lose him.
“Gramps had a particularly rough night, and I was too tense to sleep.” She’d sat vigil over his bed, praying, crying, assessing vitals, praying some more. “By morning, I was wound tighter than a spring.”
“Go on,” Nannie encouraged with a wink. “Get to the good stuff.”
Liz grinned at her impatience. “From the beginning of our relationship Adam understood that we couldn’t date like a normal couple. On this particular occasion we’d made plans to spend the day together for Adam’s birthday. I’d bought tickets to a show in Jackson. We were going to drive up and spend the day just being together.”
She’d wanted to give him one day of being a regular couple, a day where he took precedence in her life. Like so many things in their relationship, the day hadn’t gone according to plan.
“When Adam picked me up that morning, he took one look, drove me to his place instead, and insisted I take a nap before we headed out.”
He’d tucked her into his bed like she’d been a small child, complete with a kiss on the forehead. God, he’d been sweet, telling her he’d man her cellphone. If anything happened with her grandfather, he’d wake her.
“I slept for seven hours and we missed the show. I felt so bad, but he wasn’t upset. Instead, he ran me a bath and cooked dinner.” He’d made her spaghetti. Even now the delicious aroma drifted through her mind, making her mouth water. “While we were eating, I realized I’d been laughing, that I felt happy inside, light, like I could go home to Gramps and give him my love without shedding tears.”
Time with Adam had kept her spirits lifted during the darkest days. Her keeping a positive outlook had to have made a difference to Gramps, had to have helped ease his suffering.
She protectively placed her hand over her abdomen, allowing past emotions to wash over her afresh.
“I looked up to tell Adam how much I appreciated his ability to make me feel whole, warm, alive, and…” her throat tightened, her voice choked “…I saw the same warmth in his eyes.”
He’d looked at her as if she was his whole reason for existing.
“In that moment, the world seemed perfect, and I knew my heart belonged to him and always would.”
Nannie gave a heartfelt sigh.
Liz smiled sheepishly. “Not what you were expecting to hear, I imagine. Nothing flowery or overly romantic. Just him setting aside our plans for his special day to put my needs first.” Heat burned her cheeks. “He told me that being with me was the best birthday present he’d ever received.”
She’d thought his words the most romantic she’d ever heard.
For those few hours that evening it had just been her and Adam and life had felt perfect.
“A beautiful love story,” Nannie said with obvious appreciation. “Reminds me of me and my Edward.”
“Tell me,” Liz asked, sensing Nannie wanted her turn. “Tell me when you knew you loved your Edward.”
With a far-away look on her face, the woman launched into a tale of young love, causing Liz to forget everything but the woman’s words.
For the next hour Nannie told her all about her marriage to the man of her dreams. A man who’d never returned from the war he’d fought for his country so many years ago.
“Oh, Nannie, I’m so sorry.”
The older woman’s forehead creased. “Why, dearie? Edward and I shared love. Whether we’d had one week together or a lifetime, what we had was real. That’s what counts.”
Liz fought tears. “You’re a very special person, Nannie. A very wise person.”
Nannie nodded with a supremely knowing look on her face. “When you’re as old as I am, you’ve learned a thing or two.”
“What are you ladies up to?” Dr Bell asked, flashing a mouthful of bright whites as he entered their room. He gave Nannie a special just-for-her wink, checked her hip, and administered a dose of the morphine pump she never seemed to remember to give herself. When Nannie was settled, he turned to Liz. “How’s the leg?”
She forced a smile and gestured to where her leg was in traction. “Just hanging around.”
“Nice one.” He grinned, examining her toes, which were sticking out of the air cast on her foot and ankle. He lightly pinched each one over the nail bed, watching to see how quickly the color came back. The pink color returned instantaneously. “Good capillary refill. Excellent.”
“Are you going to let me go home yet?” she asked, wondering how she’d manage to care for herself but knowing she’d find a way. If Dr Bell refused to let her hobble on crutches, she’d see about borrowing a wheelchair from the hospital.
“What?” he teased while he checked the tightness of her air cast. “You’re not loving our hospitality?”
“Do you want the truth?”
He laughed. “That bad, huh?”
“Although having Nannie in my room has helped, I’m going stir crazy.” Which was the truth. Kelly and Mona had brought some novels and magazines, but she could only read for short periods of time or she got a severe headache. Something she hoped would pass soon. Most of the time she just lay in bed with her palms over her belly, thinking about Adam, their baby, what might have gone wrong, and what she was going to do about the future. Until today, Nannie had slept most of the time. Then again, so had she.
“Have you seen Adam?” she asked before she could censor herself.
Dr Bell’s smile slipped. “He’s not been by?”
The guilty look on his face said he knew more than he was letting on.
“No. Has Dr Graviss lifted the ban?”
Dr Bell didn’t meet her gaze, just making a show of checking what he’d already checked. “I ran into him last night.”
“And?”
He took a while to answer.
“Honestly? May’s surgery got to him. He looked like hell. Whatever happened between the two of you in the past, Adam needs you.” Glancing at Nannie’s sleeping form first, he whispered, “You have to tell him about the baby. He deserves to know.”
Adam needed her? Then why had he pushed her away? Liz closed her eyes, steadied herself, and met the orthopedic surgeon’s gaze with annoyance. “How do you know I haven’t told him?”
“Because he’s listened to Larry’s order to stay away until you’re stronger. If he knew you were pregnant, neither hell nor high water would keep him away.�
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“Do you think knowing about our baby will change his mind about me? That knowing I’m pregnant will make him want me again?” Days of pent-up frustration and doubt came to a head inside her. “Let me ask you something. If Adam did change his mind, if he did want to be here with me, would you want a man who was only with you because you were pregnant?”
“No,” Dr Bell answered. “But you and I both know there’s more between you and Adam than just a pregnancy.”
She sighed. “I thought so, too, once, but now…”
“Now?”
“I’m not sure.” She rubbed her right temple. “When I think over our relationship I can see I was so blinded by love for Adam and by caring for Gramps that I didn’t see the truth. That I was just another woman in his life.”
“You don’t believe that. The fact you’re pregnant makes you more than just another woman in his life.”
She gave an ironic laugh. “I don’t think he’ll be thrilled that I’m pregnant.”
“Talk to him and let him decide for himself how he feels about the baby. About you.”
“Don’t you think the fact he’s not been to see me says exactly how he feels?”
His face pinched with thought. “Yes, it does. He cares enough that when Larry told him to stay away to protect your health and well-being, he’s done his best to do just that.”
“It’s been almost a week. Any danger I was in passed long ago. He could have stopped by.”
Dr Bell ran his finger down the edge of her air cast. “He’s been by.”
Liz scooted up, swatting his hand away from her leg. “What? Adam’s been by? When?”
“He’s come by to see you on several occasions. You just weren’t awake.”
“How do you know that?”
He shrugged. “Word gets around.”
“Someone told you Adam came to see me?”
“Actually, Nannie mentioned you’d been having company.”
“Nannie?” Liz glanced over at the sleeping woman she’d grown fond of over the past few days. “She saw Adam here? She never said anything to me.” Liz scowled. “Why would she tell you?”
He shrugged. “She wanted to know if Adam was your baby’s father and whether or not she should toss him out next time he came by.”
Although it was silly since she’d only known the woman for a few days, Liz felt twinges of guilt that she’d not told Nannie she was pregnant. Apparently Nannie had worked it out for herself.
“With the way news travels around this place, I guess there are a lot of people who know,” Liz mused. Did Adam? Was that why he’d come to her room?
Dr Bell crossed his arms. “You’d be surprised at how few people know.”
“That I’m pregnant?”
“There’s a few who’ve found out, but mostly it’s hush-hush, Liz. For obvious reasons, I’ve been discreet with who can access your records. So has Larry. Adam doesn’t know, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He touched her arm. “Don’t you think it’s time he did?”
“Dr Cline,” Adam’s office nurse said when he came out of the exam room where he’d been removing a lipoma from a forty-two-year-old’s back. “You have company in your office. Your next appointment isn’t for another thirty minutes so there’s no rush.”
She smiled overly brightly and gave him a wink. Immediately Adam guessed who waited in his office. Liz.
Ignoring his nurse’s knowing look, he paused only long enough to rake his fingers through his hair before going into his office.
She sat in a wheelchair with her back to him. Her right leg was elevated on an attached foot rest and she wore a feminine housecoat he’d never seen before. Probably a gift from one of her friends.
She looked beautiful. A sight for sore eyes. His heart rate quickened. She hadn’t moved to indicate she realized he was there, but instinctively he knew she was aware of him.
The awareness pulsed between them like a living beat drawing him under its spell.
Liz. Liz. Liz. His heart thrummed.
But he couldn’t speak.
As time ticked between them, she turned the wheelchair to face him. Her movements weren’t smooth, but weren’t too bad considering today was probably the first time she’d used it. At least, Larry hadn’t mentioned Liz having outings. And although Adam’s office was technically a part of the hospital, the general surgery ambulatory clinic was quite a trek from the medical floor.
Liz in a wheelchair.
She would recover, he knew that, but the sight of her condition hit him badly.
Her gaze met his and he saw a thousand emotions dancing in the depths of her eyes.
“Adam.”
His name sounded sweet on her lips, but she didn’t mean it as an endearment. More like a well-deserved reprimand.
“We need to talk.”
“The last time we talked didn’t end so well.” He gestured to her wheelchair.
“My accident had nothing to do with our ‘talk’. Yes, I was upset when I crashed, but that deer didn’t know my world had fallen to bits.”
“I’m sorry, Liz,” he automatically apologized, trying to figure out where to start on winning Liz’s forgiveness. On putting the bits of her world back together in a way where they could find happiness again.
“Before we get into why I’m here, Adam, thank you for what you did for May. I stopped by her hospital room to see her and she looks wonderful. Thank you.”
Pride filled him at Liz’s praise. He’d been given hell from the board, but seeing the pride in Liz’s eyes gave him the stamina to face ten boards. God, he’d missed her.
If he hadn’t thought she’d slap him, he’d take her in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless.
She rolled her wheelchair past him and after a few jerky movements closed the door. Not a loud slam, just a quiet catching of the latch. “Sit down.”
Watching her in the wheelchair left him immobile, weak-kneed. Her strength of will amazed him, left him a little in awe of her. He had more than a sneaking suspicion that had their situations been reversed, Liz would have faced a diagnosis of MS head on rather than trying to withdraw from life.
He’d been such a fool.
A well-intentioned fool, but a fool all the same.
“Sit down,’ she repeated, her voice terse. “I don’t want you towering over me, and I can’t stand up. Yet.”
Adam crossed his arms and bit back a smile. Seeing her spunk did his heart good. She really was getting better, would heal and get her life back. Her strength would push him, help him be a better man, would force him to fight his MS and win.
Could she forgive him?
“I came to tell you on the night I had the crash but…” She compressed her lips a moment. “Well, things didn’t go as I’d hoped. Telling you in the middle of the day while you’re at work isn’t ideal, but you need to know, before you find out from someone else,” she continued, gripping the armrests of her wheelchair until her knuckles whitened. “So here I am.”
He quirked an eyebrow, trying to figure out what she was talking about, wondering how he was going to ask her to love a man who had an iffy future, to give him a second chance and overlook these past few weeks.
How did you tell someone that you’d felt like you’d been given a death sentence and didn’t want to drag them down, too? That you’d forgotten that it wasn’t the quantity but the quality that defined a person’s life?
“I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant?
God, no. He couldn’t have heard Liz correctly.
He sat down, realizing too late that he wasn’t as close to his desk as he’d thought and slipped, regaining his balance only in the nick of time to keep from falling. Not a smooth move, but he was so shaken inside he wasn’t sure he’d recognize smooth if it whacked him across the face.
“What did you say?” Please, don’t let him have made Liz pregnant. Not when any baby he gave her would carry his defective genes.
Her lower lip disappeared b
etween her teeth, but her gaze remained locked with his. “I’m pregnant, Adam.”
The vein at his temple threatened to burst open. Nausea tore at his gag reflex. “How?”
“How?” She gave him a confused look. “You know how.”
“It’s mine?” Of course Liz’s baby would be his, but she’d be so much better off if it weren’t. God, he wished it weren’t.
Last night, when he’d considered winning Liz’s forgiveness, he’d thought about the future. In his mind he’d thought they could adopt or have artificial insemination from a healthy donor. Never in any of his wildest dreams of begging Liz to forgive him had he considered making her pregnant. Never.
“I’m not going to dignify your question with an answer.” She glared at him. “Coming here was a mistake. But I had to tell you about our baby.” Her hands shook. “From your reaction I…well, just know that I don’t expect anything from you. I just thought you should know.”
“How far along are you?”
She paused, scraped her fingernail over the rubber coating on the wheelchair’s armrest. “According to the ultrasound Dr Graviss ran, I’m fourteen weeks.”
“Fourteen weeks.” There was no mistaking the look of relief on his face. “That’s not too late for an abortion.”
His heart ached at the thought, but there would be other babies. Babies conceived through artificial insemination. Babies who wouldn’t be at high risk of developing MS.
Fourteen weeks. He thought back to when that would have been. Fourteen weeks ago he’d made love to Liz and put his baby in her belly.
They’d always used a condom. Always. But he did recall one afternoon. Gramps had had a rough night and they’d thought he wouldn’t pull through, but somehow he had yet again managed to hang on. Hospice had come on schedule and he’d whisked an unsure Liz to his place to get a few hours’ rest and relaxation. Instead, they’d made love, clinging to each other for reaffirmation of life after a night of battling death for a beloved grandfather. They’d used a condom, but when he’d taken it off it had torn.
Or maybe it had already been torn?
Oh, hell. How could he have been so irresponsible as to start a baby when he stood a chance of passing on a horrible disease to an innocent child? Liz’s child.