Her Nine Month Confession

by Kim Lawrence

  She looked at the fabric fluttering slightly as a breeze caught it and her brain belatedly translated the gesture—he was offering her his top.

  ‘Thanks, but I couldn’t possibly—’

  ‘There isn’t a hidden catch.’

  ‘You need it!’ she declared, shaking her head and not delving too deeply into why she was so desperate to think of an excuse not to put the garment, still warm from his skin, on her bare flesh.

  ‘I have a jacket. It may not be your colour, Lily, but it is a practical solution.’

  Lily sighed and gave in, grumbling, ‘What did you say about your grandfather? It’s his way or no way?’ She saw his startled expression before she turned around and, presenting her back to him, whipped her soiled top off, gasping a little as the cool air touched her skin.

  His top settled against her skin, still warm from his body. It carried his scent mingled with expensive male fragrance or maybe soap. She felt a stab of guilt as her stomach muscles reacted to the intimacy of the shared body heat.

  What sort of mother was she, distracted by sex at a moment like this?

  She tugged her hair loose from the top and as she turned back Ben was zipping his jacket up, giving Lily a brief glimpse of his golden toned skin against the dark leather.

  She knew that the image was going to stay with her.

  He stood looking at her, his head a little to one side. ‘It looks better on you than it does on me.’

  Blatantly not true. The garment, which was snug-fitting on him, was loose on her and hung baggily down almost to her knees. Lily despised her stomach-fluttering response to his compliment. And the fluttering got considerably worse when, without explanation, he stepped forward and began to competently roll first one sleeve and then the other up to her elbow level. His dark head was close enough for her to smell his shampoo as he performed the task.

  Lily fought the impulse to lean into him. They shared a child but they were not a couple. She needed to remember that. She took a hasty, and not very elegant, step backwards.

  ‘Thanks.’

  Without another word she vanished through the door. He picked up the soiled top she had dropped on the floor and, before he pushed it into the conveniently placed waste bin, found himself yielding to the impulse to lift it to his face.

  His nostrils flared in response to the lemony scent it carried. He needed to be careful. Lily was vulnerable, and she was the sexiest, most sensual creature alive. It would be easy to forget that the closeness they were experiencing was temporary. Yet it was the closest he had ever been to a woman.

  And what does that say about you, Ben?

  It said he had the good sense to keep clear of close relationships. Having witnessed firsthand the war that had passed for his parents’ marriage, Ben had decided early on that he was never going to walk into a relationship he wasn’t able to walk out of.

  But he wouldn’t walk away from his daughter.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BEN HATED THIS awful white box of a room. He hated hospitals, he hated relying on medical science, he hated feeling helpless, useless... Ben surged to his feet, wincing as his chair scraped noisily on the floor.

  In her cot Emmy continued to sleep, although she stirred a little and so did Lily in her chair. Quietly he made his way to the door and, holding his breath, closed it carefully behind him. He turned and found Elizabeth Gray standing there watching him.

  Since he had made his bone-marrow donation her attitude had thawed. There was just a thin layer of frost now when she spoke to him.

  Ben didn’t blame her.

  ‘They’re asleep. I was just going to get some fresh air.’

  ‘Lily said you reminded her of a tiger in a cage.’

  ‘Did she? I don’t really like hospitals. Can I get you anything? Coffee?’

  Ben took her rejection philosophically and was about to move away when her voice made him turn back.

  ‘Can I ask you something that I’ve always been curious about?’

  ‘Sure you can ask. I can’t guarantee I’ll answer.’ Having braced himself to defend behaviour that, from any loving parent’s point of view, was indefensible her actual question took him by surprise.

  ‘Your parents had what most people would call an unhappy marriage.’

  ‘That’s putting it politely. Others would call it hell.’

  ‘I always wondered, why did they stay together? They weren’t religious or—?’

  Ben gave a dry laugh. It was a question he had asked himself on more than one occasion. ‘Honestly, I don’t have a clue. They both threatened it over the years, but neither carried through... Maybe in some twisted way, for them at least, the marriage worked...’ he speculated with a mystified shake of his head ‘...or it could be that they were just too stubborn to admit they’d made a mistake.’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘Some people should not be together.’

  ‘Marriage is a leap in the dark,’ he countered cynically.

  ‘What about your investments? Don’t they involve the same thing?’ she teased gently.

  He angled a narrow-eyed look at her face. ‘Are you trying to get in my head, Mrs Gray?’

  She smiled. ‘Call me Elizabeth.’

  ‘Risks are easy when you’re only dealing with money, Elizabeth.’

  ‘You know, I think I might have that coffee, Ben.’

  * * *

  He sprinted for the lift, silently cursing the estate agent who’d made him late. He glanced at his watch—had he missed the doctor’s round?

  It was all the estate agent’s fault. The guy had been creating problems where there were none, as far as Ben was concerned. He had zero interest in getting the best deal or calling anyone’s bluff. If the vendors wanted more money, they could have it.

  In the end, he’d had to spell it out.

  ‘Give them a blank cheque. I don’t give a damn, so long as I have the keys for tomorrow.’

  The guy had looked at him as though he was insane.

  ‘Blank cheque?’ he’d echoed, sounding scandalised by the suggestion.

  Ben had silenced him with a look.

  This morning the guy had been sitting with his commission cheque in his hot hand, telling Ben that it had been a pleasure doing business with him and apologising profusely for having one last paper for him to sign.

  Walking down the long corridor that led to the specialist unit, he passed a couple he recognised and nodded before continuing on. His stab of sympathy was mingled with a feeling of relief. It was weird, but you quickly got to know when people had had bad news, simply from their body language.

  Buzzed onto the ward, he did not hurry the hygiene rules. The strict measures to protect the vulnerable child from infection had become second nature to him over the past couple of weeks. Shrugging on the gown, he almost collided with the two figures standing outside Emmy’s room.

  Ben felt as if someone had reached into his chest; the icy fingers tightened around his heart as the implications of what he was seeing hit him. He froze as Lily, oblivious to his presence, her head on her mother’s shoulder, continued to weep uncontrollably.

  For the past couple of weeks she had kept a constant vigil at Emmy’s bedside, refusing a bed when one came up in the purpose-built block that housed parents of children who arrived at the specialist centre from all over the country. It was the best; Ben had made it his business to find out. During that time her cheerful, positive façade had stayed firmly in place. On the couple of occasions it had slipped and she’d needed to vent, he had been philosophical about taking the flak—at least he was good for something and there was precious little else he could do.

  He had suffered moments of black doubt, but not Lily. There had never been any if, it had always been when Emily Rose got better.

 
While the doctors had been upbeat about the outcome, apparently it was rare for a parent to be a full match but he was. They had warned that compatibility, even full compatibility, did not guarantee success. They spoke a lot about multiple factors affecting the outcome.

  Had Lily heard them? Or had she, as he suspected, tuned out anything she couldn’t cope with? The latter, he suspected. It had been obvious from the outset that she was in denial and intended to stay that way.

  Ben had tried not to think how she would react if the worst happened...now he knew. The sound of her sobs tore at him, as did his sense of total, utter helplessness.

  Less than three weeks ago he hadn’t known he had a child. He hadn’t known what he’d feel; not feeling anything had been his biggest fear. Yet when he had walked into the room and seen the tiny, terrifyingly frail figure lying asleep in the white hospital bed, her eyelashes fanned out across cheeks that might have once been rosy but were now pale as milk, emotions he had not known existed, feelings he hadn’t known he was capable of, had welled up in his chest. So strong he’d felt as if he were drowning.

  He had hoped, he had prayed that he could learn to love his child, to prove himself worthy, but there was no learning involved. It was as genetically pre-programmed as breathing.

  These were feelings that he’d never have known. Fear that he was as selfish and cold as his mother, or as uninterested as his father, would have kept him from experiencing them if Lily hadn’t fallen pregnant.

  Their two-year-old had shown more guts than he had! He should have thanked Lily instead of blaming her. Whichever way you looked at it, half the responsibility and blame was his. Was it any wonder she had been and still was wary of his attempts to be part of Emmy’s life? It was not a right, it was a privilege and one that Ben had set out to prove himself worthy of.

  Too late. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep shuddering breath, seeing a stream of images. They hurt but he prized each one. For the past two weeks, since Emily Rose had been infused with his cells, he had seen her every day. He had felt despair and anger as he’d watched her suffer, helpless to do a thing about it. His face-to-face contact was limited to a few short periods when Lily ate or showered; how she coped remained a mystery to him.

  She smiled but her eyes held a haunted look that no amount of optimism could disguise. And, in unguarded moments, a sense of helplessness and despair he recognised all too well.

  There were times when, to vent his anger or frustration, he wanted to hit something. Instead Ben channelled his energies to more practical things.

  A firm believer that knowledge was power, and for once in his life he felt he had precious little of that, Ben read up on the disease so that he had a better understanding of the information the medical staff disclosed.

  He set himself achievable goals. Sometimes they seemed pathetically small, like making Emmy laugh twice a day. He was not Daddy—it was much too soon—so he was the funny man. Encouraging her to eat at least two mouthfuls of everything on her meal plate. And making sure that when the time came they wouldn’t find themselves in the same situation as other families—whose discharge had been delayed because they lived outside the area that allowed quick access should an emergency arise—hence his meeting with the estate agent.

  When did I start thinking of us as a family?

  The solution to the last problem had been simple: buy a suitable house. Today he’d ticked that off his list, but his quiet sense of satisfaction vanished the moment he saw Lily’s tears. He felt the implication like a fist landing with the force of a sledgehammer in his solar plexus. He stood frozen, immobilised by the emotions that broke free inside him.

  As she drew back from her mum’s embrace a movement in the periphery of her vision made Lily turn her head. Ben was standing there raking a hand through his dark hair that over the last couple of weeks had grown longer, curling crisply against his collar. Through the loose white gown, that they all wore on the ward, she could see one of the brightly coloured ties he had taken to wearing every day.

  The sight of him revealing the day’s fashion faux pas with a magician-like flourish to Emmy never failed to make Lily’s throat tighten. Today it made her howl.

  His face contorted as he held out his arms. ‘I am so, so sorry.’

  Her normal mantra of Don’t rely on him, he might not be here tomorrow failed. Today she was too emotional, too giddy with relief to show the normal level of caution. Instead, crying out his name, she flew into his arms.

  Enfolded in his strength, her head against his chest, it took her a few moments to realise what he was saying as he stroked her hair... ‘Sorry...sorry.’

  She pulled back, catching his big hand between the two of hers as she looked up into his face shaking her head. ‘No...no... I’m crying because I’m happy.’ She sniffed, loosening his hand and pressing both of hers to her face.

  ‘Happy?’

  Her hands fell away; her lovely eyes, red-rimmed and bloodshot from many sleepless nights, glowed as though lit from within.

  ‘It’s taken. Emmy is going to be all right—the transplant has taken. You know the last results were—’ she lifted her hands and sketched ironic inverted commas in the air ‘—promising? Well, the latest results are back and they are conclusive—the transplant has taken.’

  Ben didn’t do anything, he just stood there staring at her, much the way she had done when the doctor had taken her to his office to break the good news. Barely aware of what she was doing, she grabbed one of his hands and, lifting it, pressed her cheek to his palm before pressing a kiss to it.

  Laughing, she barely registered his expression as she turned and hugged her mother before swinging back to Ben. ‘It’s taken, Ben, it’s really taken.’ Her voice cracked and broke with emotion.

  Ben watched the tears spill from her eyes. His entire body felt as a frozen extremity did when the circulation returned...feeling had burned away the protective layer that had enabled him to function, stripping his emotions bare. With a painful stab of self-awareness he knew there would be no going back. A man could walk around with a void inside him once he recognised it for what it was—fear.

  Lily was laughing and crying, squeezing his hand again. He struggled to respond, to match her bubbling happiness.

  ‘I thought—’

  ‘Sorry, I know.’ She took a deep steadying breath. ‘I have to say thank you. If it wasn’t for you Emmy might not be here. You’ve been kind even when I... I will never forget what you did.’

  Ben pulled his hand away, suddenly annoyed. ‘I didn’t do it for that. I don’t want your gratitude.’

  If she asked him what he did want, what would he say?

  She didn’t ask him, she just looked at him, clearly puzzled by his reaction, so he asked himself. What did he want?

  His eyes widened as the answer surprised him.

  Lily tentatively touched his arm. ‘Are you all right?’ Well, that was what she’d intended to say, but she wasn’t sure whether it all came out because quite suddenly her knees went, there was a loud buzzing in her head and the floor came up to meet her.

  Ben stepped forward and caught her before she hit the ground. Grunting softly, he hefted her higher into his arms. ‘Could we have a doctor here?’ Looking down at the pale face of the woman in his arms, he felt emotions he had spent weeks struggling not to acknowledge break free. ‘The place is full of bloody doctors, so where are they when you need one?’

  ‘Is she breathing?’ They all had their breaking point and this was obviously Elizabeth’s. ‘She’s not breathing.’

  ‘She is,’ he assured her. ‘She’s just fainted. Exhausted probably.’

  ‘Thank God, thank God, I knew this would happen!’ Maternal concern found release in a shrill string of loving criticism as Elizabeth patted her unconscious daughter’s head. ‘I knew it! You have no idea how stubborn she c
an be! She just can’t accept help, it’s always I don’t want to be a bother... Bother? She’s my little girl. I want to help. I need to help.’

  Her words resonated. I need to help. He totally understood the sentiment. It remained one that he was unable to articulate. After he had done his part, he could have walked away. He knew that Lily had expected him to. She probably would have preferred him to walk away.

  His jaw muscles locked tight as he looked down at this fiercely independent woman, half her face hidden in his shoulder. He struggled to poke his anger into life but instead experienced an overwhelming surge of protectiveness. It was primal and illogical, a throwback to hunter-gatherer days.

  It was love.

  They were right. Love did set you free. In his case the prison bars had been of his own making.

  ‘She’ll be fine, Elizabeth, just let...’ Blocked in a corner, he tried to ease past the woman, calling out, ‘In here, she fainted!’ Relieved to finally see assistance in the form of a nurse and a doctor, he reluctantly passed Lily onto the trolley that arrived.

  * * *

  As a child she had always been cynically sceptical of those scenes in films when the swooning heroine lifted a hand to her head and said in a faltering voice, ‘Where am I?’

  As she opened her eyes and mumbled, ‘Did I faint?’ she felt some sympathy for those heroines.

  ‘Yes.’

  Her eyes flew wide at the sound of his voice. Ben, she discovered, was standing beside the bed she lay on looking stern and—she gave her head a tiny shake—he was wearing what she thought of as his closed look.

  ‘Well, I suppose I did it in the right place,’ she said, struggling to pull herself upright, only to find her progress hindered by a large hand in the middle of her chest. ‘Will you stop that? I have to—’

  ‘You have to stay there and sit up gradually. Then you will drink this vile cup of tea the kind nurse made you, while I will go and reassure your mother that you are all right. Then I am taking you back home, where you will sleep.’