Crib Notes

by Holly Jacobs

“You’re sure you want to introduce me to the people you work with? I mean, I’m more and more pregnant with each passing day and they’re bound to speculate….”

  “I don’t care what people think. I’ve liked you for a very long time. There was an instant attraction when I met you, but as I got to know you it went beyond that. The only thing that kept me from actively pursuing you was that you were in a relationship and seemed happy. And I grew to care about you too much to do anything that would dim that happiness.” He paused and added, “And I don’t poach. I’ve never poached. You were the one case where I was tempted. But now you’re not in a relationship, and I’m not in a relationship. So, we’ll go out.”

  “And if people talk?” she asked.

  “People always talk, Eli. When Mom and Dad adopted us, they talked.”

  His response confused her. “About?”

  “About the fact they had kids of mixed races. Or when they adopted someone like me, who was older, people worried that I’d be a bad seed. When Mom and Dad adopted more than three kids, they talked about the fact they were crazy…they were getting older and would never be able to handle a big family. People talked then, Eli. Odds are they’ll talk now. That kind of talk seems to be a part of the human condition. But I don’t care. Do you?”

  She knew that if she and Zac got any more deeply involved there were bound to be hurdles.

  As much as she knew that maybe she should care, the truth was, she didn’t care at all.

  She took his hand in hers. It felt solid. It felt right. “No, I don’t care what anyone says.”

  Eli had spent months feeling a bit crazed by all the unexpected changes in her life. She was someone who liked to have things planned out. And yet, here she was inviting another change…and rather than finding that daunting, she couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

  For the first time in months, she felt like she was getting something right.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “A new baby is a gift. Sometimes, when circumstances aren’t ideal, it’s hard to remember that, but in every baby there’s a sense of potential, a dream for the future…and that is a gift, regardless of the circumstances.”

  —Crib Notes: Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei

  “JINGLE BELLS, JINGLE BELLS…” Eli sang giddily.

  Zac laughed. “Someone’s got the Christmas spirit.”

  “Everyone was so nice at your work party. I’d been worried.”

  “I told you not to be.”

  “You might not have noticed, but I don’t always listen,” she said cheekily. She hung up their coats and walked toward the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway and turned to face him.

  Zac was forced to stop, too. “Problem?”

  Eli pointed at the ceiling. “The only problem is a boyfriend who neglects to follow tradition.”

  Zac looked up and a slow grin spread across his wind-chapped cheeks. “Why, Ms. Cartwright, what could that greenery be?”

  “I suspect it’s mistletoe, Mr. Keller. What do you suppose we should do about it?”

  Zac didn’t need a second invitation. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her which was just what she wanted.

  Eli had discovered that kissing Zac was addictive.

  It hadn’t gone any further than kissing, and while part of her wanted it to, the other part—the part that needed to take this slow—was relieved that it hadn’t. She moved her hands along the contour of Zac’s back, loving the feel of him. Wanting to be closer…

  The doorbell rang, interrupting both her thoughts and the kiss.

  “Argh” was her not quite verbal response to the interruption.

  “Argh?” Zac teased, though he sounded equally breathless. “I think I’m flattered.”

  “You should be.” The doorbell rang again. “Who do you suppose that could be?”

  “Tucker and Bart? Or maybe your parents?”

  “They’re on a cruise, so I doubt it.” Eli hoped beyond hope that it was Tucker, who was a good enough friend not to take offense if Eli asked her to make the visit a short one.

  “Merry Christmas,” Eli cried as she opened the door. “Oh.”

  Arthur. To say he was the last person she expected to see would be a lie, but to say he was one of the last people she wanted to see was pretty much a given.

  “Merry Christmas, Eli.”

  She stood there, not saying anything, not opening the door any farther.

  Arthur.

  Her silence and immobility must have gone on too long, because he finally asked, “May I come in?”

  She let him into the entryway, glancing at Zac. “Sorry. This shouldn’t take long.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll go start the water for tea.” He went into the kitchen.

  “He’s here?” Arthur asked.

  She looked at her ex, who seemed none too pleased to find Zac at her house. “He’s a friend. Now, what did you want, Arthur? Did you bring me the papers?”

  “No. Could we go into the living room and sit down?”

  “No, I don’t think there’s a need. Just tell me what you came here to say. I have company to get back to.”

  “I saw the lawyer and he’s drawn up the papers to terminate my parental rights, as well as set up a trust fund for the—” he stumbled on the word “—baby.”

  “Great. Get back to me when they’re signed.” Eli felt a twinge of regret that it had come to this.

  “That’s just it.” He stood ramrod-straight, his shoulders squared as he added, “I went down to sign them yesterday, and I couldn’t do it.” He looked as if he expected a fight.

  Fighting wasn’t what Eli had in mind, it never had been. “Are you saying you’re planning to take a role in the baby’s life?”

  She was torn between believing that her baby had a right to know its father, and the knowledge that her life without Arthur in it was easier. What kind of mother would that make her? Putting her comfort over what was good for the baby?

  “Is that what you’re saying?” she repeated.

  The unflappable college professor slumped a little and leaned against the wall, as if in need of support. “No. Yes. Maybe. I don’t know. I just don’t know, Eli. I’m so confused. I never wanted a…baby. And yet…” He shrugged.

  She was tired of his waffling.

  “I don’t know how to help you with that, Arthur. To be honest, I’ve been confused. Having a baby in my forties wasn’t what I expected, either. I had a life planned. Everything laid out. This wasn’t a part of it.”

  “I know. I’m making a mess of all of this. I want to be a good guy, the kind who would stand by you in something like this, but every time I resolve to do just that, I see a kid or a baby and they’re messy, demanding and…”

  “And messy and demanding has never been something you’ve dealt with well. That’s why I was a perfect girlfriend. I never asked for more than you could give. Our relationship was orderly. Dinners Friday nights. Something Saturday or Sunday afternoon. A standing date for the Phil. I don’t want to make it sound like this was all your fault. Let’s face it, I was content with the status quo. It was easy for us, Arthur. But this isn’t easy.”

  “No. No, it’s not. And I miss you, Eli.”

  She realized he wasn’t calling her Elinore anymore. Was he trying to please her?

  “I loved knowing on Fridays we’d go out to dinner, or planning something for the weekend. I loved knowing that I had someone to go to the philharmonic with me. We were good together.”

  Eli realized that when he rattled off the things he loved, he never mentioned loving her—and she hadn’t mentioned it, either. She didn’t love him. And at this moment she knew with utter certainty that he had never loved her. “I can’t help you decide what to do. Being part of the baby’s life because you feel you have to, because you’d be able to think of yourself as a good guy, isn’t enough.” She heard herself start to lecture him and stopped. It
wouldn’t do anyone any good. “Listen, figure out what you want to do about the baby, then let me know.”

  She started to open the door, but Arthur put his hand on top of hers. “I truly miss you, El.”

  She wasn’t sure what to say, so she simply slipped her hand out from under his.

  “Please…”

  “Arthur, you and I, we’re over. I’ve told you. It’s not a question you need to consider. That one’s been answered. All that’s left is for you to decide what you’re going to do about the baby.”

  Arthur hit her doorjamb with his fist. “I don’t know, damn it. I didn’t ask for this.”

  “No, you didn’t, neither did I. And yet, here we are.”

  As if that outburst had used up his energy, his shoulders slumped again. “I didn’t come here to fight. I just missed you and wanted to wish you a merry Christmas.”

  “You, too, Arthur.”

  As he stepped away, he suddenly looked older than someone in his mid-fifties.

  Eli watched until he got into his car before slowly closing her front door. Then she leaned into it, her face pressed to the winter-cold glass.

  A sense of emptiness swept over her. She couldn’t have really said why. She’d spent five years of her life with Arthur. And realized anew why it had been so easy to let him go: she had never loved him.

  ZAC HELD ELI FOR A WHILE, enjoying the feeling of having his arm around her shoulder. Her arms were wrapped around her stomach, as if trying to protect the baby from a world where its own father didn’t want it. Zac took his free hand and rested it on top of hers. Instantly, her being pregnant became real to him for the first time. He felt a sense of protectiveness—he’d do anything to save this child even one tear, one hurt feeling.

  This wasn’t his baby, but as his hand stayed on Eli’s hands and stomach, that didn’t matter. He loved this child sight unseen.

  A baby who would need to be cherished…to be loved.

  Arthur might not be sure if he could do it, but Zac knew in his heart that he already did. Completely.

  And thoughts of losing the baby hurt as much as the thought of losing Eli.

  The man had deserted both Eli and the baby. In Zac’s book, that meant Arthur had forfeited his rights. Zac didn’t see a way to make her understand that.

  “Thanks for holding me,” Eli said as she stirred. “You’re a good man, Zac.”

  Her compliment embarrassed him, given that a more noble man, a better man, would be more understanding of her conflicted feelings about Arthur.

  Zac thought a distraction might help. “We were going to deliver the baskets to Keller’s employees tonight. Are you still feeling up to it?”

  “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “Well, bundle up and let’s go.”

  Zac always volunteered to take holiday baskets to the employees, even when his dad still ran the markets. Zac enjoyed trying to sneak up to the employee’s home and leave the basket without getting caught.

  This year, he’d borrowed one of the store’s trucks and had it loaded with the baskets. For three hours he and Eli made their way through Whedon, making deliveries to Zac’s staff. Eli wanted to be the one to do the running, but he worried that she’d slip and fall on the snow-covered sidewalks, so he convinced her to be the driver.

  She took the role to heart and sped away from each scene like a bank robber making her getaway, laughing with delight each time.

  Zac could have stayed like this forever—just driving around town with Eli and listening to the sound of her delight.

  But all too soon, there was only one basket remaining. “It’s Ariel’s,” he told Eli. It was bigger than anyone else’s because so many of the employees had come to him and asked him to include something they’d bought Ariel or the baby.

  “That’s not a basket, that’s a crate,” Eli said, smiling.

  “Are things any better between the two of you?”

  “No, not really. But I understand her, Zac. It’s not my situation that’s truly upset her. Ariel feels powerless, deserted even. And she’s not just mad, she’s pissed. Yes, her aunt’s taking care of her, but her parents and boyfriend are gone. She’s pissed at me, because deep down she trusts me. She trusts that I’ll still care. I’m it, and though it stings a bit, I get it.”

  While Zac knew she meant every word she said, he also knew she was still hurt, and he wished he could do more to spare her that.

  They pulled up in front of Ariel’s aunt’s place. He started to open the door, but Eli said, “Hang on a minute.”

  She dug through her purse that sat on the floor of the truck, and pulled out a beautifully wrapped gift. “Would you include this, please?”

  He didn’t ask what was inside, but simply took the small box and said, “Sure.”

  He went to the back of the truck, took out Ariel’s “basket” and tucked Eli’s gift in, then dashed to the porch, rang the bell and sprinted away. As soon as he was next to Eli, she gunned the engine and took off with all the speed of their other getaways, but this time there was no laughter.

  He saw her glance in the rearview mirror, and turned to see for himself that Ariel was at the front door.

  “Merry Christmas,” Eli whispered.

  Zac kept glancing at her as she drove them along Whedon’s main street and he saw in Eli what he’d always seen…a beautiful heart. He knew she’d try to downplay it, but Eli Cartwright gave herself unstintingly to her students. She was generous with her ex. And Zac knew if she ever loved him, he’d be the luckiest man in the world.

  And he also had no doubt there was no if left for him. He loved her.

  Zac Keller loved Elinore Cartwright. And nothing would ever change that.

  DEBORAH KELLER HAD A penchant for gathering people to her—especially, it appeared, during the holidays. Eli was just like the rest, happy to oblige her.

  It was Christmas evening, and the Keller’s family room was filled with family and friends…and people they barely knew.

  Ariel and her aunt were sitting as close to the fringe as the ample room would allow. Deirdre Mayor wasn’t what Eli had imagined. She didn’t look as if she could be more than a few years older than Ariel, her niece.

  Deirdre hadn’t said much to anyone, and when Eli tried to engage her, asking about her job as a flight attendant, Deirdre had seemed so uncomfortable that Eli had finally abandoned the effort.

  Eli had talked to her mom and dad that morning. Her mother spent most of the conversation apologizing for not being there for Christmas. “If we’d known you were pregnant we’d never have booked the cruise….” she said over and over.

  Eli reassured them both that she’d be spending the day with the Kellers, and they’d all celebrate together next year with the baby, which was always a topic that was sure to brighten her mother’s mood.

  “Any idea what this is all about?” she whispered to Zac, who shook his head. After they’d had their dinner and cleaned up, they’d all been summoned to the family room.

  Mrs. Keller stood up. “First, I want to say I’m so glad to have all my children with me, and our new friends as well. I’m hoping those new friends will indulge me as I read a letter I received several days ago.”

  From her pocket Mrs. Keller produced a couple sheets of paper. “Dear Mrs. Keller,’” she read, “‘Enclosed please find a copy of an essay Cecily wrote for my English class. The topic was, what does family mean to you.’

  “‘My students frequently inspire me, but I don’t think I’ve ever been brought to tears by an essay before. I believe this is something you and your entire family will treasure. Sincerely, Helen Asti.”’

  Mrs. Keller shuffled her papers and took a deep breath, as if she were going to start reading some more, but Cessy interrupted. “Mom, please don’t.” Cessy hid her face in the arm of the couch. “I’m so embarrassed,” she moaned with the drama that only a teen could muster.

  “Cecily Keller, this is
beautiful, and not only am I going to read it, I’m thinking about having it framed.”

  Cessy groaned even louder, and her sister Layla patted her shoulder.

  “There’s no stopping Mom when she gets like this,” Dom said from his seat across the room.

  “You’re right, Dom, there’s not.” Mrs. Keller cleared her throat. “My family, by Cecily Keller.’

  “‘When I was in fourth grade, our class made cards for our families for Thanksgiving. We traced our hands and turned them into construction paper turkeys. After school, I ran out and gave mine to my mom when Leslie, a girl in my class, came up and said, ‘You’re supposed to give it to your mom.’ I was confused and told her this was my mom, and she said it couldn’t be ’cause we didn’t match. Until that moment, I don’t think I ever thought that way about my family.’

  “‘Oh, I knew my brother Zac always called me cocoa because my skin is the color of chocolate, and there was no way to miss that Mom is as pale as a white person can get. But I never saw those differences.’

  “‘After that, I did. I noticed the looks my family got when we went out together. None of us are alike. We have brown hair, black, reddish-brown and blond. Some of us are very tall, a few are vertically challenged.’

  “‘When I was ten, we all went to Disney World and Mom made us wear matching T-shirts that proudly proclaimed The Kellers. We got looks there, too.’

  “‘The fact that we all were so very different made us stand out, and any school kid will tell you that standing out can be a problem. So I hoped no one would notice.’

  “‘The Kellers took me home weeks after I was born. I have biological parents, but I never knew them. Then when I was five, my biological father took me back. I still remember that day. My whole family stood on the porch as the social worker led me away to her car. I didn’t understand what was going on. My mom had told me that I was going to live with my real dad, but I felt that my real father was the man on the porch physically holding my brother Zac, who was struggling to get to me. I was only five and I knew who my family was. The stranger the state decided should have custody was nothing to me. The six months he kept me were bad. I don’t talk about them. But they taught me something.’