Parenting Truth Number 1: The best foundation any parent can give their child is a happy, healthy parent.
No more.
She steadied her shaking hands and opened the attachment. If Xander had had the guts to read what she’d written, then she owed him no less.
Except that when she saw the short paragraph written in bold at the top of her neat schedule, she knew that she owed him more than she could begin to comprehend.
I, Alexander Philip Sorenson, agree to all the schedules laid out below with one addition. If at any time in our child’s life I should be arrested for cause and/or return to prison, I will immediately relinquish all parental rights to Heather Jacobs, unless she should choose otherwise.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
XANDER SAT IN the doctor’s waiting room on Halloween morning, pretending to read a magazine, though why he bothered, he wasn’t sure. No one was paying any attention to him. The pregnant women were talking to each other. The ones who weren’t visibly pregnant were on their phones. The one other man in the room looked like he would rather be anywhere else, so Xander didn’t think it was worth trying to strike up a conversation with him. Though he probably seemed just as excited. Ironic, since—under different circumstances—he would be soaking up every minute of this.
At least he was here. At least she wasn’t asking him to stay away from the appointments, though her email warned that things shouldn’t be very exciting this time around.
He wasn’t sure if that was the truth or an attempt to discourage him. He chose to believe in Door Number One. Not only because he wanted her to be honest with him, but because unexciting meant routine, healthy, normal.
Besides, for someone who had missed out on everything the first time around, all of it was exciting. Even if it was tarnished by the way things had turned out between them.
He flipped another page. Crossed his legs. Peered at the table to see if it held something other than the current issue of Gynecology Today.
He would feel a lot more settled if she had replied to his amended schedule with something other than a brief Thanks. You’ve given me a lot to think about.
Good thoughts? Bad thoughts?
Then Heather walked into the waiting room, and he got his first glimpse of her since that awful night. All of a sudden it was difficult to not focus on the what-might-have-beens.
“Hi.” Her words were subdued. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t be able to stay away.”
She’s scared.
The words had been turning around and around in his mind since Darcy first said them. He didn’t want them to be true. If Heather was frightened, it meant that she truly believed he would land back in jail. It hurt like hell to know that she, of all people, could think that way about him.
But as the days went by and he let the words sink deeper, he started to look beyond his own wounds to really take in what Darcy had said. That Heather might say she was protecting Millie—and undoubtedly, that was part of it—but that she was scared for herself. Scared that she would lose him the way she had lost her brother.
And it had hit him that people weren’t afraid of what would happen to people they didn’t care about.
Heather took the seat next to him. “Hope you weren’t waiting long. I had a hard time leaving work. Apparently it was vital that we decide on the background color of the new website today.”
“Oh yeah?” Brilliant, he knew. But his senses had been hijacked by the flowery scent of her hair, and he had to remind himself that this was a time to listen, not linger on memory lane.
“How, uh, how do you like the job?”
That was a legitimate question, right? If she liked her work, that meant less stress, and less stress meant a healthier environment for the baby.
“I really like it.” She gazed down at her hands, knotted in her lap, then tucked them beneath her thighs. “I don’t know if I ever said it, but thank you. For helping me create the proposal and for believing I had a chance. And for, well, everything else. I never would have applied if not for you, and I... I really appreciate it.”
The job wasn’t the only thing she wouldn’t have if not for him. He could only hope that she would end up being as excited about the baby.
“It’s funny,” she said softly. “I started out applying just to prove a point to Hank.”
She seemed to falter as she mentioned Hank’s name. Had something happened there?
“And then I wanted it because it would make life so much easier. You know. Logistics.”
Logistics. Schedules. All those things she clung to so tightly.
Though if he had grown up the way she had, maybe he would be a bit fonder of lists and calendars, too.
“But the more I got into it, the more I wanted it for real. Website colors aside, I’m loving this. It’s going to be a challenge to manage a maternity leave in the first year—” her mouth twisted wryly “—but I have a feeling it’s going to be worth it. Big-time.”
“Here’s hoping.” And then, because he had to know what had caused that shadow to flit across her face, he asked, “What’s happening with Hank and custody?”
“We’re still in the trial run phase, but he said something the other day about it working better than he’d expected.”
“That’s great.”
“Yes. It is.” She glanced his way. “And a lot more generous and forgiving than I really understood.”
There was definitely something lurking behind her words. But before he could figure out how to ask for details in a public waiting room, a nurse popped her head around the corner and called Heather’s name.
Fifteen minutes later, after cooling his heels in the hall while she was weighed, sent to the bathroom and told to change into a gown, he was alone with her again, this time in a room filled with the smell of antiseptic and pictures of abstract swirls and lines on the walls.
“I would have thought there’d be pictures of babies here.”
“Not everyone is here because they’re pregnant,” she said. “In fact, a lot of them are probably here to make sure they don’t end up that way.”
Oh yeah.
“Do you wish you weren’t?”
He hadn’t meant to ask. She had made it clear that she was opting to keep this baby. Wasn’t that enough?
Except he didn’t want her to be just making the best of a bad situation. He wanted her to be happy. With the baby, with how things had turned out, with...with whatever kind of family they ended up creating. Not just because that would make her a better mother, but for herself. Because her happiness, her joy, was something he needed as much as his own.
Because no matter what else had happened, what still might or might not happen, he loved her. And he couldn’t see that changing for a long, long time.
“Heather?” he prompted, when her silence and his thoughts threatened to make him search the cupboards for alcohol of drinking quality. “Do you wish—”
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to avoid the question.” She twirled a tie from the gown around her finger. “I can’t say that I’m ecstatic to be in this position,” she said slowly. “But at the same time, if anything were to happen now...I don’t want that, either. The baby and I are starting to grow on each other.” She grimaced. “No pun intended.”
He bit back the laugh that threatened to erupt, unsure if she was ready for that yet.
Again, she tucked her hands securely beneath her thighs. “Look. I wasn’t jumping over the moon when I got pregnant with Millie, but now—”
She stopped in midsentence and seemed to shrink in on herself. Like someone had pulled a plug on her happiness.
Or like she was in sudden pain.
“Hey.” Dread made him grab her arm, arguments and awkwardness be damned. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not goi
ng to run away again.”
Okay, she sounded seminormal, but she wasn’t making any sense. “Huh?”
“Xander.” She met his gaze with a determined set to her chin. “I know that my track record sucks, but I won’t mess up this time. I’m getting back into counseling, just to give myself some extra backup, but I’m in this for the long haul. I’m not going to leave this baby the way I left Millie.”
“Oh.”
What was he supposed to say? He wished he could tell her that the thought had never crossed his mind, but he wasn’t going to lie. It was there.
It wasn’t a huge fear. He knew she wasn’t the same person she had been, even if he hadn’t been in her life when things fell apart. He could see how much she regretted what had happened and how hard she had fought to make things right with Millie.
But it was there. He had a feeling that it was going to stick around for a while, no matter what his rational mind told him.
Maybe—the thought hit him as sharply as the antiseptic smell of the room—maybe the same way that she would always fear he was going to repeat his past, too. No matter what her rational mind told her.
Maybe he shouldn’t have been quite so pissed that, in a moment when things were at their most terrifying, she hadn’t been able to forget her history.
“I know you won’t,” he said now. “But if I say that knowing and totally believing are two different things, will you understand what I mean?”
The crinkle of her forehead smoothed into understanding. “Yeah. I do.” A hint of a smile appeared. “And I can live with that.”
So could he.
“Heather,” he began, but the doctor walked in. Heather sat up straighter. He stood at attention. But he didn’t forget.
Not when Dr. Jackson flipped open her laptop and hemmed and hawed over the chart.
Not when she poked and prodded at Heather’s stomach and pronounced that everything felt exactly the way it should at this point.
And not when she picked up something that looked like a keypad with a microphone attached and smiled as she asked, “Ready?”
Ready for what?
Heather’s eyes flew wide. She glanced his way.
“Oh! I didn’t think I was far enough along yet.”
“Well, we still might not be able to pick it up. And if we don’t, that’s perfectly normal, so I don’t want you to worry.” Dr. Jackson hefted the whatever. “But you’re definitely at the point where we can try.”
“Try what?” They were talking in circles around him. “What are you going to do?”
The two women shared a glance.
“He doesn’t know?” asked the doctor, who was rapidly becoming one of Xander’s least favorite people on the planet.
“Apparently not.” Heather shot him the impish kind of grin he’d seen so many times before. When she was teasing Millie. When she was burning chicken. When she was seducing him on his sofa.
God, he had missed that.
God, he loved her.
She’s scared.
So was he. More than he had realized. But he wasn’t going to let that stop him.
He loved her. And if she needed him to spend the rest of his life proving that he wasn’t going anywhere, well, that was exactly what he would do.
“Could someone please tell me what’s going on?”
Heather shook her head. “I don’t think so.” This time her smile was pure magic. “Consider this an early Trick or Treat.”
“Now I really hope this works.” The doctor squirted some goo on Heather’s stomach and slid the whatever back and forth.
Xander moved closer, staring intently, reluctant to miss what they were planning to spring on him.
“Let’s see now...” She flicked a switch. Odd watery noises filled the room.
Something touched his arm. Heather’s hand.
He grabbed on to it. Cautiously, carefully, he slipped his hand into hers. She squeezed. His heart jumped, beating so loud that he was pretty sure he could hear it.
Except the sound wasn’t coming from him.
The doctor laughed. “There it is. Nice and steady and strong, just the way we like it.”
Holy shit.
“Is that—”
Heather nodded. “That’s our baby.”
He couldn’t talk. Not without turning into some blubbery pile of amazed mush. Instead, he blinked, hard, at Heather’s hand in his.
Then his vision cleared and he caught sight of her fingers. Of the pale pink polish adorning her pinky.
And the bright purple polish on her middle finger.
And the fluorescent blue adorning the nail of her ring finger.
And he had to lean against the table for a second, because if he was reading this right, life had just become a rainbow of awesome.
The doctor said a few more things. Heather answered. He heard their voices but he couldn’t process the words. Everything in him had been reduced to two thoughts: a wish for the doctor to disappear, and a prayer that the trio of nail polish meant what he hoped it did.
At last the doctor picked up her laptop and left the room. The door had barely closed behind her when Heather said, very quietly, “Xander, could you hand me my purse, please?”
His whole future was waiting for him, and she needed her purse?
But in truth, he could use a minute to figure out what to say next, so he grabbed the bag from the chair and handed it over. She took it with a word of thanks, unzipped it, and pulled out a neat roll of papers.
He froze.
Please God, not another schedule.
“I, um, did a lot of thinking after you sent me your addition.”
He focused on her fingernails. “And?”
“And I decided it was time to stop relying exclusively on my brain and give equal time to my heart.”
He hoped to hell that her heart was doing a better job of working properly than his was at the moment.
“The good thing is that they both told me the same thing.”
He glanced from the papers to her face. “What’d they say, Heather?”
“That I was wrong to not believe in you. And that sometimes, plans and schedules are just another way of saying that you’re afraid of what might happen if you lose control.” She breathed in deep, took his hand, and pressed it against her stomach. “But sometimes, losing control can bring you a miracle.”
“Heather—”
She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much that the thought of losing you scared me. People do really stupid things when they’re scared.”
“Some of us can be idiots even without fear.”
“Shh. I’m trying to ask you to marry me.”
It was a good thing they were still in the doctor’s office, because he was pretty sure he was going to need a defibrillator before he left the room.
“Are you sure?” How he managed to croak out the words, he didn’t know.
“Positive. And not that I’m trying to influence your answer or anything, but you should know that I would want this even without the baby. I might have taken longer to figure it out, but it would still have shaken out the same way. Because I love you. And I want to marry you and be a family, you and me and Cady and Millie and our miracle.”
“You know what I think?”
She leaned into him. “What?”
“I think that for the rest of my life, doctors are gonna love me.”
“Why’s that?”
He kissed the puzzled furrow that had appeared on her forehead. “Because from now on, every time I smell antiseptic, I’m going to remember this. And I’m going to be the happiest damned patient they’ve ever seen.”
She laughed low against his ea
r. “Is that a yes?”
“The biggest yes of my life.”
She pulled back and wrapped her hands around his face. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” He kissed her nose. It was much as he could trust himself to do in an exam room. “Where are those papers?”
She twisted slightly, grabbed them off the table and handed them over. He gave them a final glance, ripped them in two and let them fall to the floor.
Heather glanced up at him with mischief in her eyes. “A good start. But I’m not sure that’s enough. There’s still the emails, you know.”
“Incriminating emails, you say?” He pulled her close and breathed her in. “I just might be able to help you with that.”
* * * * *
Be sure to check out the other books in
Kris Fletcher’s
COMEBACK COVE, CANADA miniseries!
A BETTER FATHER
NOW YOU SEE ME
DATING A SINGLE DAD
A FAMILY COME TRUE
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