“I thought about Benjamin—you know, after his father, but…” The mischievous sparkle in her eyes told him she was joking. “Actually, no disrespect to my father, but since his name was Ralph, I kind of don’t want to go there.” Looking toward the ceiling, with a faint smile, she said, “Daddy, if you’re listening, I hope you’ll understand.”
“I’m betting he does. And might I add, I applaud your decision. These days, someone will pick on kids for not wearing the priciest jeans or sneakers. Sadly, even though Ralph is a perfectly fine name, I can see where it’d be like painting a target on the boy’s back.”
“Exactly,” she said, patting her belly, “which is why I’m leaning toward my Grandfather’s name, which was Jackson. I’ll call him Jack for short.”
“I like it,” he said, “although, I have been thinking that Dane Jr. has a nice ring.” When he winked, she tossed a pillow at him.
“DO YOU REALLY NEED ALL of this stuff?”
Saturday afternoon, Gabrielle looked up from her cross-stitching to see Dane holding up her favorite Sounds of the Tropics relaxation CD. She was now in her thirty-eighth week of pregnancy, meaning her son’s arrival would now be welcomed instead of feared. Dane had been amazing—except for now, when he was being a typical man in not wanting her to overpack for what would hopefully be a brief hospital stay. “Remember how our Lamaze coach talked about soothing music being a proved pain reliever? You don’t want me to be in pain, do you?” She smiled sweetly.
He added the CD to her ever-growing pile.
“Thank you.” She blew him a kiss.
He grunted. “What else?”
“Did you already grab my slippers?” She counted off a section of lemon bar cookie on her pattern.
“No. Won’t you want to wear them around the house until it’s time?”
“Good point,” she said, starting on her next row. “Did you—”
The doorbell rang.
“Hold that thought,” Dane said on his way to answer the door.
The commotion and loud conversation alerted Gabby to the fact that Mama and Nana had invaded. She loved them both dearly, but they had a way of taking over whenever they arrived.
Clomping on the hardwood floors announced the duo’s pending appearance in Gabby’s room.
“There’s my girl,” Mama crooned, leaning over Gabby’s bed for a big hug and kiss. “I brought you cookies and amazing news.”
“Oh?” Gabby said, most interested in cookies.
Nana took a shower cap off her head. “Can you believe it? Not three minutes after we left Thom’s Cut & Curl, it started to drizzle.”
“You still look gorgeous,” Gabby said, eyeing Nana’s pile of shellacked gray curls.
“Thank you,” Nana said, patting the side of Thom’s latest creation.
Mama huffed. “Would you please hush about your hair and let me get a word in edgewise?”
“I would,” Nana said, “but I already told you, I don’t think Gabby’s going to like your news.”
“Nonsense.” Taking Ben’s photo from Gabby’s nightstand, Mama said, “Why wouldn’t she think Ben being on his way home is anything but wonderful? After all, he is her baby’s father.”
“Um…” Hating the way her pulse sped up, Gabby dared to ask, “How do you know? Did he call?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Before Mama replaced the picture, she wiped the glass with her sweater’s sleeve. “And right as we speak, he’s in Little Rock, staying with an old friend. I got the number, so just as soon as you go into labor, he’ll come home.”
“Swell,” Dane said, arms folded where he stood near the door.
“Watch your mouth,” Mama snapped. “Ben is this baby’s father, and he should be here for his son’s birth.”
“I never said he shouldn’t,” Dane noted. “My problem is that if he’s a mere thirty minutes away, why isn’t he here now? Why wait until you give him a call?”
Rolling her eyes, Mama said, “Just for once, could you please stop being a Negative Ned? Your brother is finally doing right by Gabrielle. I should think you’d be happy.”
“I’d be happy wearing this.” Nana stepped out of Gabby’s closet with one of Gabby’s sexiest red cocktail dresses slipped over her purple velour jogging suit. “Old Edgar’s ticker wouldn’t stand a chance.”
“AT LEAST THEY BROUGHT FOOD,” Dane said after his family had thankfully left. He and Gabrielle shared the bed while eating spaghetti and meatballs, garlic toast and Caesar salads.
“I’m impressed,” she said with a grin. “Look at you, being all Positive Paul. I like this change.”
Casting her a dirty look, he ignored her reference to his mother’s belief that he was always negative. What he was, was realistic. What was the point in sugarcoating the truth?
“Hey.” Nudging his shoulder, she said, “Lighten up. I’m just teasing. Actually, I didn’t find your mom’s news all that great, either. In fact, the more I think about Ben’s deigning to pop into town just in time for our baby to pop out royally ticks me off.”
“Ditto.”
“So…” Setting her plate on the nightstand, she rolled toward him. “What I propose is that we not even think about your brother until I start having regular contractions. Deal?” She held out her hand for him to shake.
He nodded. “But I’m still not happy about him stepping back into your life—especially not just in time to snatch all the glory.”
Cupping Dane’s whisker-stubbled cheek, she softly said, “In my book, you’re the hero. Ben had his chance and blew it.”
Edging forward, Dane kissed the tip of her nose. “How is it you always know just what to say to make me feel better?”
BY FRIDAY OF HER THIRTY-NINTH week of what was starting to feel like a never-ending marathon of heartburn, swollen feet and peeing every three minutes, Gabby was more than ready to say hello to her son. Her doctor had given her permission to move around the house, as long as she didn’t do jumping jacks or cartwheels.
Funny, but now that she was actually allowed out of bed, Gabby was so exhausted that she didn’t feel like budging.
By the time Dane got home around six, bearing a supreme pizza, her back and neck ached, and she’d have given her favorite diamond earrings for a nice, long soak in a hot tub.
“You look beat,” he said, perched on the edge of her bed. “Everything okay?”
“Eh.” She gave him the wavering hand signal universally known for someone being so-so. “I hurt in places I didn’t even know I had. Olivia and Steph are coming over tomorrow for a canasta tourney, but I don’t know if I’m up for it.”
Feeling her forehead for fever, he said, “Your temp is okay. Mom said Nana has been sniffling. Hope you’re not coming down with something.”
She shook her head. “I don’t think so. My guess is that weighing three tons is finally catching up with me. I did a load of laundry today and felt ready to drop.”
“Then why didn’t you leave it for me?” Smoothing flyaway hair from her forehead, he said, “Just because your doctor gave you permission to occasionally be out of bed, doesn’t mean you should go nuts.”
Frowning while stabbing a meatball, she said, “I’d hardly call a single load of laundry major spring cleaning.”
“Woman, how would I deal with being stuck with you for my entire life?”
Was he joking, or had his question been an offhand proposal? Testing the waters for what she might say? Pulse racing at the mere possibility of him having been serious, she decided to play it cool. “Lucky for you, you won’t ever have to find out.”
Leaning closer, he planted a tender kiss to her lips. “Lord help me, but with each passing day, I find myself wanting to stay with you more.”
“Why don’t you?” Because her heart couldn’t bear losing Ben, and then Dane, as well.
Touching his forehead to hers, he sighed. “You know the reason. But I’ve been thinking, maybe once Ben actually does show, the two of us could have a man-to-man. I’d find
out what his intentions are toward you.”
Wrinkling her nose, she said, “You make me sound like medieval chattel.”
“Sorry.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic but determined to find a solution to his guilty conscience. “You know how I feel about stepping into Ben’s territory. If we are given the opportunity to be together, I want it to be right.”
“If talking with Ben would make you—Arrrrgh.” She clutched her stomach.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, voice rich with concern. “Mom’s meatballs not settling well?”
“I know this will sound stupid, but I’ve been achy and crampy all afternoon, and what I just felt was more than that. You know, like a contraction. Do you think I might be going into labor?”
“It’s possible,” he said. “Your doctor said it could be any time now. Want me to make note of when you have a contraction?”
Nodding, she said, “Yes, please.”
He took her half-eaten plate of food and set it on the kitchen counter before gathering his official contraction-timing gear.
Back in his usual spot in her bedroom, he asked, “Did you have any while I was gone?”
“Uh-huh.”
He wrote that down.
“Dane?”
“Yes?” He looked up from the notebook he’d purchased for just this purpose.
“What if we did something crazy like elope?” Because Gabby was afraid that if Ben did show up, Dane’s sense of nobility would supersede whatever else he might feel.
“You mean now?”
“Sure.” Wincing through another contraction, she said, “It’ll be fun.”
“No, it won’t, because if your contractions keep up, we’re not taking you anywhere but the hospital.”
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Honey, I’m not going anywhere.” Rising, he curved his hands over her stomach, grinning when he felt a kick. “That is, unless you want me to.”
“Then why won’t you marry me?”
“Because you deserve a proper wedding with all of the trimmings.”
Pouting and hurting, she said, “Sounds to me like the typical Dane put-off.”
“You’re being ridiculous, in fact—”
Ooooooh. “That one especially hurt.” But not nearly as much as his rejection.
Chapter Twelve
Sure enough, Gabrielle was in labor. Dane had bundled her up for a trip to the hospital, and the nurse on duty had called Dr. Yan. Then she hooked Gabrielle to a fetal monitor and IV, took vital signs and brought around paperwork to sign.
“Okay,” the nurse said while covering Gabrielle with an extra blanket, “now all you do is wait. Once you’ve gone into active labor, the real fun begins.”
“How do I kn-know when I’m in active labor?”
“Oh, honey,” the nurse said with a laugh. “Trust me. You’ll know.”
Once they were on their own, Dane pulled over a chair so that he could be by Gabrielle’s side. There was so much he wanted to say. He hated that a special moment like this had been prefaced with an argument. Of course he wanted to marry her. But he couldn’t. Not yet. “Need anything?”
“Nooo…” She grasped his hand, squeezing for all she was worth during her latest contraction.
When her pain had lessened, he went to the sink for a washcloth. Running it under cold water, he placed it on Gabrielle’s forehead, smoothing back her hair.
“I—I have something to tell you.”
“Me, first,” he said, easing alongside her in the bed. “I do want to be together forever. I’m sorry I wigged out on you.”
A half smile lighting her eyes, she said, “It’s okay. You’re about to—Rrrrrrr…” Her furrowed forehead served as a visual barometer of her pain.
“Whatever you have to say can wait. Let’s just ride this out together.”
Shaking her head, she managed to say, “It’s about Ben. I didn’t tell you everything he said on the phone when he called for your mom’s birthday.”
Stomach clenching, Dane said, “It doesn’t matter. Nothing he said could change how I feel about you. I’m here for the duration.”
“Th-that’s just it….” Through gritted teeth, she continued, “H-he said that not only does he want to be here for our baby’s birth, but he wants us to try being a family—you know, with the baby, and that—”
“Stop.” Dane wanted to punch something. Instead, he dragged in a few slow, deep breaths. Odds were Ben had been making empty promises. It would be typical of him to tell Gabrielle he’d be here for her, and then fail to show. “Your worrying is wasting energy,” he said, taking both of her hands into his. “The odds of Ben actually appearing for his own son’s birth are, at best, remote.”
“ARE YOU EXCITED?” STEPHANIE set the teddy bear and balloons she’d brought on the hospital room’s wide windowsill. It was eight in the morning, and after a long night of ever-increasing pain, Gabby wasn’t sure how much more she could take. Dane had been wonderful, but seemed nervous. Every time the door to her room opened, he jumped. When whoever was at the door wasn’t his brother, he relaxed. Gabby had sent him out to eat breakfast when Steph had gotten there.
“I’m mostly scared,” Gabby admitted, bracing for the next contraction. “E-everyone keeps telling me first-time deliveries are notoriously long.”
“Swell.” Stephanie sat hard in the room’s only guest chair. “That’ll be something for me to look forward to.”
“I thought your sister had her first baby on the way to the hospital?”
“She did.” Taking a bag of peanut M&M’s from her purse, Steph ripped it open and held it out to Gabby. “Want one?”
“N-no, thanks.” Usually chocolate was her friend, but today, just thinking about it made her want to puke.
“Anyway,” her friend rattled on, “just because Lisa had her baby fast is no certainty for me—especially not with twins. So?” she asked through a fresh handful of candy. “What’s got Dane looking so glum?”
Even the condensed version took three contractions to get through.
“Whoa.” Stephanie stopped chewing long enough to take it all in. “So Ben could just show up at any minute?”
“Pretty m-much.”
The door creaked opened, and both women looked to see who it was.
“Oh, hi, Dane,” Gabby said. Months ago, she probably would’ve been thrilled at the prospect of Ben’s return, but now, since getting to know Dane, she didn’t care if she never saw him again.
Are you sure about that? her conscience inquired. He is Baby Günter’s father.
“Don’t sound so ecstatic.” Dane closed the door behind him.
“I’m s-sorry.” Holding out her hand, she said, “Please come here. I missed you. Stephanie’s a bad substitute c-coooooach.”
With Dane again beside her, all of Gabby’s worries faded, leaving her free to focus on breathing through her pain.
“Hey, I was an amazing coach,” her friend protested before popping a few more M&M’s.
A knock sounded on the door.
“Anyone home?” Olivia poked her head through.
“H-hi,” Gabby said. “Th-thank you for coming.”
“I wouldn’t have missed it,” she said, “although looking at you, you’re not exactly a poster child for Glamorous Birth magazine.” Snatching Steph’s candy bag, she shook out a handful of M&M’s.
“Y-you’re lucky that’s not a real p-publication, or I’d hit you over the h-head with it.”
“No hitting,” Dane ordered. “Remember what the doc said about watching your blood pressure.”
“Has it been high?” Olivia asked.
Grim-faced, Dane nodded.
The room door opened again, only this time it was Mama Bocelli and Nana and her boyfriend, who carried a portable folding chair, and Pops Bocelli and—Gabby’s heart caught in her throat.
“Look who I brought to visit!” Mama said, giving her younger son a shove. “Aren
’t you excited to see Benny, Gabrielle?”
“Whoo, hoo, hee, hee.” Excited hadn’t exactly been the first word springing to Gabby’s mind.
“Oh, baby,” Ben said, instantly by her side, nudging Dane out of the way. “Look at you. You look so sad.” Ben, on the other hand, looked as handsome as ever. Skin sun-kissed, dark hair mussed, eyes as blue as the sky. He wore jeans and a mossy green Abercrombie & Fitch T-shirt. “Tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”
Leave.
“N-nothing,” she said.
“We need to talk.” Dane grabbed Ben none-too-gently around his upper arm and shoved him out of the room.
“Oh, dear,” Mama said.
“Save my spot,” Nana said, getting up from the seat her boyfriend had lugged in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Mama asked, catching her by the sleeve of her purple dress.
“To watch!” Nana jerked free, darting out the door faster than Mama and her considerable girth could move.
Gabby winced in silent, screaming pain.
Olivia cleared her throat. “How about we all give Gabby her privacy?”
“But we’re family,” Mama protested. “She wants us here, don’t you, darling?”
The pain was too intense for Gabby to talk. She was hoping her agonized expression said it all. Plus, her bed was wet. Had her water broken?
“Of course she wants you here,” Olivia soothed, nodding to Steph for help. “But I’m pretty sure she’s ready for a rest.”
“She can’t rest in the middle of giving birth,” Mama reasoned on her way out the door.
Pops and Nana’s boyfriend trailed after her.
“Don’t worry,” Stephanie said to Gabby in a stage whisper, “we’ll keep the whole Bocelli crew occupied.”
“Th-thanks.”
On her own, Gabby rummaged for the nurse’s call button. She closed her eyes, wishing for a moment’s relief from the pain. Then she might have a shot at clearing her head. Ben was home. He’d returned to care for her and the baby. She’d once wanted nothing more. Now she didn’t know what she wanted other than for their baby to be born.
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