by Susan Hatler
“How did you—”
He held up a hand. “Welcome to small town, Tennessee, my dear. You’re not in New York anymore.”
She snickered. “I see. Of course, I assume even in a small town, there is doctor-patient confidentiality?”
Dr. Hendricks smirked. “Yes, but I’ll warn you. You don’t want a small town gossip telling your business. That won’t help your blood pressure at all. Trust me.”
“I understand.” Lisa clutched her purse tight to her chest. “If that’s all, I’m needed at the shop.”
“Not so fast.” He ripped the slip from his prescription pad and handed it to her. “You need to take one prenatal vitamin daily. Have you been nauseous?”
“Only a little in the morning and evening,” she said, taking the slip and tucking it into her purse. “It’s actually been better since I moved here.”
“Good. Are you sleeping and eating properly?”
Lisa wrung the shoulder strap of her purse. “I try, but I’m not hungry most of the time.”
“I’m guessing stress is playing a part in that, too. You need to eat five small meals a day. And it’s important that you avoid stress as much as possible. Are you tired?”
“Only all the time.” She smiled. “I fell asleep in the backroom during my break yesterday.”
Dr. Hendricks smiled knowingly. “Wait here and I’ll go check on your lab work.” He pushed his castered chair back then meandered around the large wooden desk and left the office.
Her phone buzzed and she let go of the death grip on her purse to retrieve it. Judy’s name appeared at the top of the display.
Need an item picked up at Nelson’s thrift store, the text read. Would you mind?
Can do, Lisa replied.
The door opened behind her and she slid the phone back into her purse. “Everything okay, Dr. Hendricks?”
“Nothing to be worried about,” he said, returning to his chair. “As I expected, your iron is a little low. I want to have you come back in two weeks to check it again. If it doesn’t improve with your eating then I’ll prescribe some iron pills.”
“Oh, okay. Is that bad?”
“According to most of my patients, it isn’t fun. The pills tend to cause upset stomach and constipation, so start eating.”
“Yes, sir.” Lisa gave a mock salute. “Anything else?” She scooted to the end of her chair and rose, offering her hand.
“One more thing. Here’s a copy of your babies’ sonogram.”
“Babies?” She dropped her hand and stepped back, confused.
“Yes,” Dr. Hendricks smiled. “There are two heart beats.”
Chapter Nineteen
Lisa’s pulse didn’t slow until she drove across the Sweetwater Creek Bridge into the lower income side of town, and pulled into a parking space in front of Nelson’s thrift shop. She cut off the engine and gripped the steering wheel, taking a long breath.
Twins?
Seriously?
One baby scared her to death, but two? She couldn’t even comprehend it. Two sets of clothes, two late night feedings, two of everything. What was everything anyway? She hadn’t a clue what a baby needed. All she knew was what she’d seen on commercials, advertising a hundred and one different types of bottles or diapers.
She was sure she’d burst into tears, but instead she lowered her head to the wheel and concentrated on breathing. Maybe Mark was right. Maybe she really didn’t have any business raising children. Wouldn’t a mother know what her baby needed? Wanted? Heck, wouldn’t a mother know she was carrying two babies, without needing a doctor to tell her? She’d been so stubborn she never believed anything Mark said was true, but he was right about one thing. She had no motherly instinct.
Leaning back, she rubbed her tummy. “Don’t worry. I can’t terminate you.” Her heart ached to keep them, but how could she? There’d be two babies and only one of her.
Her phone trilled and she lifted it from the console next to her.
Eric’s number.
Hi beautiful, the text read. Can’t wait to see you. Don’t forget you’re mine Friday night.
Her body went numb. There was nothing else to do but tell him the truth when he returned. She nearly typed you’ll change your mind, but decided it was best to keep the charade going. That was all it was between them anyway, some storybook fling that never had a chance to begin with.
Looking forward to it, she typed instead
It wasn’t a complete lie. There was nothing more she wanted than to fall into his strong arms and sleep with him by her side all night, but that would never happen once she told him the truth, and now that truth was even bigger than it’d been a few minutes ago.
Two more days. Two more days and Eric would be out of her life. The doctor said she needed to come clean and avoid stress. She just had to make it until Friday then endure the rest of her life without him.
Visions of Mark throwing his wine glass across the room, red liquid dripping down his white walls and onto his immaculate carpet, flashed through her mind. A sting coated her skin. The shards had come so close to hitting her.
Shoving the car door open, she brushed her thumb over the picture of Judy, Eric, and herself that she’d uploaded as her screen saver the day of the grand opening. What could’ve been, but will never be, haunted her.
The front door of the thrift store flew open and a shoulder plowed into her chest. Her feet flew out from under her and she crashed to the hard, icy front walk. Her right elbow and knee stung from impact.
“Hey! Watch where you’re going,” Cathy Mitchell barked, collapsing against the shop’s door and grabbing the handle to keep herself upright.
A receipt floated to the slushy ground beside Lisa. She rolled over and rubbed her elbow before rising up to one knee.
Mrs. Mitchell hotfooted it toward her car.
Lisa grabbed the receipt and glanced down at it. Two chairs and a painting, sold to the thrift store, and for only pennies. “Hey, wait! Mrs. Mitchell, you forgot your receipt.” Lisa finally managed to pull herself upright and held out the receipt while rubbing her low back to relieve the throbbing.
Mrs. Mitchell stormed back toward her like a wild boar, or whatever wild animals they had around here. “You had no right to look at that,” she huffed, swiping her bangs out of her eyes before lifting her chin. “It’s just charity, you know. I’m practically giving it away.”
“Yes, I know. I saw the receipt. Why don’t you let Judy and I sell it on consignment? You’ll get a lot more for it.”
“I don’t need the money,” she snapped. “Please, my husband left me a fortune. I practically own this whole town.” She waved her hand dismissively before she leaned in. “Now, you don’t need to go mentioning this to Judy or anyone else, got it? There’s nothing to tell here, you understand?” Mrs. Mitchell waggled her finger at Lisa.
“You don’t have anything to worry about. Apparently, I’m great at keeping secrets. But listen, I know you don’t need the money, but if you want to sell merchandise and donate the funds to charity, why not let me sell them at the store?”
“Because I don’t need that sassy Ms. Hotpants getting into my business. She knows every item I own, so she’ll know right away if I have something in your store. And her sticky fingers would snatch it up in two shakes of a dog’s tail. She already bought my candle sticks, you know.”
“There’s no reason she has to know. I’ll tell you what, I can come by and take photos of the merchandise and sell them online. I’ve been working on adding an online version of the store. I won’t advertise it locally, so she’ll never even know about it. That way, you can sell whatever you’d like without the town knowing your business. How does that sound?”
Mrs. Mitchell thought for a moment. “Well, I guess. I mean, I should try for the best price, so I can donate more to charity, but this way I don’t have to worry about Ms. Hotpants stealing my goods.” Her face brightened as she straightened her knit cap and brushed some remaining ice flakes f
rom her flaming-red coat. “By the way, you okay? You look a little run down, dear. If you hope to snag the most eligible bachelor in Sweetwater County, you best fix yourself up before he gets back into town.”
Lisa forced a smile. “Thanks, I will.” She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know her face had gotten thin over the past couple of weeks and her belly a little larger. With twins, she’d probably be as big as that town car Mrs. Mitchell drove before she even reached her third trimester. Heck, she didn’t even know what a trimester was until Dr. Hendricks handed her the pregnancy brochure. Geesh, this was all too crazy.
Lisa nodded farewell to Mrs. Mitchell then yanked the thrift store door open, her back protesting the movement, and ambled inside, every step taxing on her legs.
Just inside, a double stroller stood on display. Her hands shook at the site. It was enormous. How did it even fit through the aisles of a store? It certainly wouldn’t fit through the narrow walkways of the antique shop. The store she needed to be working at right now, but she didn’t want to face Judy. Not now. She needed to process the news she’d just learned before she could share it with anyone else.
Of course, it would take her until the twins went to college before she could process all of this craziness.
Chapter Twenty
Horns blared in competition, as if they’d move the cars crawling through the Paris streets forward faster. The noise agitated Eric, taking him back to his life in New York City. He didn’t know when it happened, but Sweetwater County, Tennessee, and its quiet country atmosphere, was where his heart lived. Perhaps it always had.
Watching the droplets of rain meander down the side window of the cab, he eyed the blurred sites of the City of Love one last time. In the grey morning light, the romantic city had altered into a hustling mess, full of fast-paced deals, tourists, and people on the go.
He fisted his hands, willing the cab to go faster. He’d missed the flight the night before. This was his only shot to get home today, without making four transfers.
Slipping his phone from his pocket, he checked for messages, but found none. Scrolling through his Paris photos from the one night he’d walked around the city, he spotted the picture of his mother, Lisa, and himself at the store opening. Light shone on Lisa’s hair, making her look like an angel. God, that woman was beautiful. More beautiful than any he’d seen. Her bright smile, large doe eyes, and high cheekbones mesmerized him.
“Hey, monsieur, what airline?” the cabbie shouted in a heavy French accent back through the slit in the window.
“Air France,” Eric hollered back, before slipping his phone back in his pocket and pulling the last of his Euros from his wallet.
The cab rolled to a stop, and he handed the money to the cabbie, the burly man’s face nearly hidden behind a thick beard. “Keep the change. Thanks.” He didn’t wait for the man to reach the back before he bolted from the cab, yanked the trunk open, and retrieved his suitcase. The air was full of exhaust fumes, instead of the welcoming smell of fresh baked bread that filled the streets in town.
“Have safe flight,” the man called out.
Eric waved. “Thanks,” he said, before he raced through the automatic doors to the check-in desk.
Once his bag was safely tucked behind the counter, he made his way to the security checkpoint. Stuck in the long line, he kept glancing at his watch. There was still time, but for some reason he just couldn’t wait another day to get home.
A young woman lifted her baby from a stroller as she neared security. Swaddling her infant close, she pushed the stroller ahead, catching it on the corner of an upturned mat. The young child cooed and giggled, thrusting himself high on her shoulder. The little eyes caught Eric’s attention. His heart tightened at the sight of the small mouth and two tiny teeth smiling at him.
He stepped away, as if the child carried some sort of disease. It was the closest he’d been to a baby since he’d learned of his own unborn child’s death.
Taking a deep breath, he eased closer. “Let me help, ma’am.”
She switched her child to her other shoulder, the little hand reaching for Eric’s hair. “No, no,” she chided the boy. She gently guided the little arm back down with her hand. “Sorry, he’s into the hair pulling stage, you know,” she said to Eric.
No. He didn’t know.
“Thanks so much.” The woman smiled warmly. “My husband flew home ahead of me, and I’ve had a rough time on my own. You’re the first kind person I’ve run into so far, so I thank you.”
“It’s no problem.” Eric looked at the security guard, who took the stroller from him. Then he set his bag on the belt, his watch and cell phone in a small basket. “I’m sure it must be difficult traveling alone with a baby,” he managed before she walked through the metal detector.
Another security guard waved him through and he retrieved his belongings. “You must be a great dad,” she mumbled before snuggling her baby back into the stroller.
The darkness he’d managed to escape for the last couple of weeks shot through him once more. The innocence and delicate nature of the child sitting before him shredded his newfound happiness. A child needed protection and love. He’d given his neither. “I don’t know about that,” he said under his breath.
“What’s that?” the young woman asked. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you over his squeals.” She pointed to her son.
“Nothing. You have a great flight.” He tipped his head, grabbed his bag and slipped his shoes back on. He concentrated on every motion, as if there was no room in his mind or soul for anything but the monotonous movement of a traveler.
His phone buzzed in his hand and he glanced down. Two missed calls, both from his mother.
Once he reached his terminal, he retreated to a lone corner, away from everyone, and dialed his mother. The phone rang once then clicked and rang a few more times.
“Eric, hon. How are you?” His mother’s voice boosted his spirits. She had that infectious gift of happiness.
“I’m fine, Mom. How are you?” Eric asked.
“Um, better than you by the way it sounds.” His mother’s concerned tone penetrated the long distance.
“I’m on my way home.” He changed his own tone to mask his sadness. “I should be home by tomorrow afternoon. I’ve got a layover in Atlanta, but I’m on my way.”
“That’s great news,” she squealed. “I’ve missed you, and I’m not the only one. I hear you and Lisa have gotten to know each other better.”
“Yes, Mom. And you were right. We do have a lot in common. It’s time for me to come home and tell her about my past. If she still wants a man who could abandon her, then I’m willing to move forward.”
“If you’re not ready, it’s fine. But if you are, then let the past go.”
“Believe it or not, I had. It’s just…” he glanced around, “I saw a baby today and well, it was difficult.” Eric rubbed his chest with the palm of his hand, trying to loosen the tightness. “I’m ready to start dating someone. I’ll always remember what happened, but I’ve forgiven myself for Mary Lynn. The baby part is a little more difficult, but hey, I don’t have to deal with that yet. And I think Lisa will be understanding and not mind taking things slow. Perhaps someday I’ll want to have a child, but right now, I still feel like I’d make an inadequate father. I guess you were right about that, too. Everything happens for a reason. God’s giving me a chance to find love and heal slowly before I move forward, and I’m ready to do that.”
Silence filled the line.
“Mom? You still there?”
“Yes,” she said, her voice sounding further away than before. “Eric?”
“Yeah?”
“I think you should come see me first, before you go to Lisa.”
“Boarding flight 876 to Atlanta, Georgia, USA,” the announcer called over the PA. “Boarding flight 876 to Atlanta, Georgia, USA.”
“Sure, I’ll come straight to the store to see you. But I’ve got to go now. They’re boarding. L
ove you.”
“I love you, too, son.”
He hit end and ambled to the boarding line. Finally, he was going home. He’d hold Lisa in his arms, and something inside told him she could heal his heart, and he’d heal her right back. They were brought together, like his mom said, and things could go slow, and they would just be together.
The tightness in his chest faded as he walked down the gangway. For the first time in several years, happiness drove the darkness away. Yes, he was ready to be with Lisa. For once in his life, everything seemed to be working out.
Chapter Twenty-One
Lisa stood in the center of her living room, eyeing the sharp-cornered glass-topped coffee table, the hardwood floors, exposed outlets, glass figurines, and other dangerous objects. A toddler wouldn’t last a week in her home. She sighed, glancing at the empty boxes stacked in the corner.
All night she’d prayed it had all been a dream, that the doctor had made a mistake, or that the entire pregnancy never even happened. Her head and body ached from crying and begging God to help. But it was all true, and if she was going to be a mother, it wasn’t about her anymore. She’d tell Eric the truth and move on with her life, focusing on the babies.
She gathered several odds and ends that were heavy and breakable and placed them on the glass table. Good thing she worked in an antique store. She’d need some new furniture. Standing at her picture window, she took in the landscape. Not a bad place to raise children, with the trees, open land, and friendly people.
Knock. Knock.
Lisa drew her gaze from the sunrise peeking over the mountain in the distance and went to her front door. She eyed a deliveryman on her porch, holding a beautiful floral arrangement in front of his face, then reluctantly turned the lock and opened the door.
“Good morning, ma’am.” His thick, southern accent eased her tension.