Читать книгу Tick Tock Goes The Baby Clock - Julianna Morris, Julianna Morris - Страница 10

“That was delicious, Annie,” said Grace Hunter as she neatly folded her napkin.

“I haven’t eaten this much in a month,” Max groaned, spooning a last bite of rhubarb cobbler into his mouth. “I sure missed your cooking in Boston, Annie.”

Annie smiled shyly. “Thank Grace, she taught me.”

“Thanks, Grandma,” Max said. He eyed the remains of the cobbler in the baking dish and wondered if he could find room for a second helping, then decided it was impossible.

There was nothing sophisticated about Annie’s cooking, but it was good. On top of everything else, it was filled with fresh-picked produce out of her own garden—from cherry tomatoes to the herbs she’d used to season the zucchini and roasted chicken.

“I’m a little tired. Maybe I’ll go home and watch that documentary about Japan,” Grace murmured. “Will you stay and help Annie with the dishes, Max?”

“That’s a good idea,” he said, giving her a kiss. Normally Grace had boundless energy, and a worried frown creased Max’s forehead as he watched her slowly cross the yard and go into the house next door.

“It’s okay,” Annie said quietly. “She’s still getting over the flu.”

“Are you sure? She’s always been so indestructible. I’ve never seen her this tired.”

Annie nodded. “She’s sixty-seven, Max. It takes her longer to recover. The doctor says she’ll probably live to be a hundred, but to remember she isn’t a kid any longer.”

“You’ve talked to him?”

“Oh, yes. We’ve had a number of conversations.”

There was a note of steel in Annie’s voice, and Max grinned. She was protective of the people she loved. No doubt she’d put the doctor on the spot more than once.

It had been a pleasant, lazy afternoon of visiting and working around the two houses. Annie had offered to take him into Sacramento, but he’d suggested they wait until the next day so he could spend more time with Grace. Lately he’d barely had time to think, much less visit Mitchellton as often as he ought to.

His grandmother called it the price of success. If he wasn’t spending fourteen hours a day working on a design, he was on a plane heading for Boston, or Paris or somewhere else in the world to inspect one of his projects. It was important to see the buildings go up, to consult with the contractors and make any necessary adjustments.

And he loved it. Always busy, always on the go. A far cry from Mitchellton where the sum total of weekly excitement was going to church on Sundays and attending the Friday-night high school football game.

Max helped as Annie rinsed dishes and put leftovers in the refrigerator. There was an odd tension about her, and his brow drew together in a frown.

“I see you painted in here,” he murmured, noting the pale-blue walls that once were a tired yellow.

“After Christmas. It was getting pretty bad.” Annie rubbed her palms across her thighs in a nervous gesture.

She’d been edgy for hours, and Max remembered she’d mentioned having something to discuss. Obviously, it was something that made her self-conscious, and he wondered what it might be. Since she’d already reassured him about his grandmother’s health, it probably wasn’t about Grace.

“Let’s take a walk,” he suggested. “I haven’t been down on the old levee for years.”

“Oh…okay.” Annie waited in the yard while he went into Grace’s house to say they would be gone for a while. When he came out, they followed an overgrown path toward the river. Along this section of the river the road wasn’t built on the levee, so there was a wide place on the top for easy walking.

Annie loved this time of the day, when the sun rested gold and mellow above the horizon and the world seemed to be holding its breath. It was still hot, but in the endless moments before sunset, the heat resonated through your body and no longer seemed an imposition. You were part of the land, knowing the evening would soon cool, but in the meantime your senses were tuned to each call of a katydid and the lazy swish of the river.

“I keep forgetting how beautiful it is here,” Max commented after a long silence.

“Maybe because you couldn’t wait to leave.” As soon as the words were out, Annie winced. Lord, she had a big mouth.

Max looked at her. He wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t seem angry. “And you were only interested in staying. That was the biggest difference between us.”

“It’s a good place, Max. A wonderful place to raise children and make a life.”

“I guess. But you’ve never had kids.”

She should have expected him to say something like that, but it still caught her off guard. “No, I didn’t.” Despite her best efforts, the words came out sounding choked.

“Annie, what’s wrong? You’ve been tense all afternoon.”

She took a deep breath. It was the time to ask, but she was having second thoughts about asking Max to help her. He was too busy with his architectural firm and his city life. Anyway, how could he understand?

No one understood.

Girls in small towns were just as experienced and sexually aware as the ones in big towns. But somehow Annie had just gotten left behind.

She dug her fingernails into the palms of her hands and tried to decide what was more important—her pride or the need to change her life.

“Come on, Annie. You can talk to me. We used to talk about everything.”

Yeah, right, she thought, rolling her eyes. She adored Max, but there were times when he had the sensitivity of a brick. He didn’t like talking about personal stuff, which was something she’d always respected. Over the years keeping things on a breezy, comfortable level with him had become second nature.

“Whatever it is, just say it,” he encouraged. “Maybe I can help.”

Annie wet her lips with the tip of her tongue. She might as well jump right in before she totally lost her nerve. “Well…actually, you might be some help. I, er, wondered if you’d…that is, I wondered if you’d kind of advise me about…attracting a man.”

Max stared, and it looked as if his face was turning red beneath his naturally tanned skin. But she couldn’t be sure. One of the great blessings of Max’s Native American blood—next to his incredible good looks—was that no one could really tell if he was embarrassed enough to blush.

“You want me to…what?”

She took a deep breath and tried to sound very practical and reasonable. “Advise me. You know, tell me the right clothes to wear. Teach me about what kind of makeup and perfume men prefer. I could ask one of my friends, but I figure you could save time by avoiding ideas that aren’t right. Maybe we could even do a…a practice date. Or something. Of course I’d pay for everything.”

Max didn’t say anything, just kept staring.

“Okay. We wouldn’t have to do the date thing,” Annie said hastily. “But the clothes and stuff would help. And maybe teaching me the right things to say.”

“What the hell for?”

Annoyance flashed through her chest, strengthening her resolve. Why did most women want to attract a man? “I want to get married.”

“Jeez.” Max raked his fingers through his hair, looking more frustrated than she’d ever seen him. “Every woman I know wants to get married. They’re batty about the subject. Did you all join a club?”

For the first time in her life, Annie understood why a woman would slap a man’s face—it was because of his incredible denseness and stupidity.

“Forget it,” she snapped.

“Now, wait—”

“No. I’m not waiting any longer. I can’t.”

Turning on her heel, Annie stomped down the levee. Men were insufferable. Maybe she shouldn’t think about getting married. Maybe she should adopt a child. Adoption was possible. Single women were able to adopt children these days, though it was still harder than if you were married. And that was plenty hard enough.

Yet deep in Annie’s heart she knew adoption wasn’t what she wanted. Maybe it was selfish, but she wanted to have a baby. Life was a miracle, whether it was a baby chick breaking out of its shell, or a baby growing inside her womb. And if she didn’t do something about it now she’d never be a part of that miracle.

“Annie. Stop.”

Her stride faltered. In the distance was a spreading oak tree. It grew in the rich loam of delta soil, drinking river water through its long roots, surviving even the worst of droughts. She’d cried and dreamed under that tree her entire life, and she didn’t want to share it with Max, not today.

“Wait.” Max caught her arm, dragging her around to a halt. “All right, I’m sorry I overreacted. Let’s talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Obviously, there is.”

They faced each other, both angry in their own way. Distantly Annie remembered what she should have remembered before, that Max didn’t trust marriage. He saw his parents as two people who’d spent their lives choosing and discarding spouses with less regard than most people use to buy and sell a car. But he blamed marriage for his mother and father’s mistakes, not their failure to choose well.

“Just forget it,” Annie said after a long moment.

She tore her gaze away from Max and stared at the river. It was a green body of water that seemed to move tranquilly through the wide channel. But it wasn’t tranquil, it was a deep, strong river with currents that were deadly if you weren’t careful. A lot like life, her father used to say.

“Annie…” Max murmured helplessly. “It just shocked me, especially that part about attracting a man.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m sorry the idea of me being attractive is so shocking.”

“Dammit. That’s not what I meant. I’ve always thought you were pretty.”

“What a wonderful affirmation of my sexual appeal.”

“Will you stop twisting my words?” He reached down and grabbed a rock, flinging it as hard and fast as he could out into the river. The humor, usually so evident in his face, was missing, leaving only darkness.

Annie sighed.

This really wasn’t Max’s fault. And she wasn’t so much angry, she was scared. The doctor said she only had a few months to make a decision about having a family. She’d always thought that someday she’d meet the perfect man and they’d start a family—like fate or karma unwinding into its proper place. But that ideal “someday” didn’t have time limits, and she did.

“I don’t get it,” Max said, making a visible attempt at calmness. “You’re an attractive woman. You must have had plenty of chances to get married.”

Annie pushed her fingers inside the pockets of her jeans and shrugged. “Mitchellton is a farm community. People get married young around here. With Dad being sick and all, I never…dated much. Then later most of the guys in our class were already married or gone.”

She’d almost said never dated, but wasn’t willing to admit that much to Max. It wouldn’t be easy admitting to anyone that you were a thirty-two-year-old virgin with the dating record of a nun, but it seemed worse saying it to Max. He probably had women lined up at his door, drooling at the thought of meeting him.

“Okay.” Max didn’t look convinced, but at least he didn’t seem quite so astonished. “But this idea about me…advising you. I don’t know what I could tell you.”

“Like I said, about clothes and makeup and stuff. You’re a man, so you know what guys find attractive.”

Max tried to think of a gentle way to say no. He couldn’t help Annie, not the way she wanted. But when he opened his mouth, the words died in his throat. In the depths of her blue eyes was a lingering unhappiness.

It reminded him, too much, of the days when she’d finally realized her father was going to die—that no matter how hard she worked, how many tempting meals she cooked for him or how long she prayed at church, he wasn’t going to get better. Max hadn’t been able to help Annie then, but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t try now.

“What’s wrong, Annie? Why the big rush?”

She swallowed, the muscles working in her throat, and he almost reached out to touch her. Instead he gathered his fingers into fists, waiting.

“Uh…well, I have a condition that needs surgery.”

It wasn’t what he expected, and a sick sensation slammed through his stomach. “Are you going to be all right?”

Annie nodded. “I’m fine, Max. I have cysts on my ovaries. They aren’t serious, at least not at the moment. But if I’m ever going to have children, I have to do something about it. Now. I can’t wait.”

Max closed his eyes, unsure if it was relief or rage flooding his veins. Annie didn’t deserve this. Of all the people he knew, she was the nicest. She was sweet and generous. Despite losing her father so young, she had a quick smile and never did anything to hurt another person.

“Is it safe, waiting?” he asked awkwardly. Annie’s life was more important than her ability to have children, though he doubted she’d agree.

Her shoulders lifted, then dropped. “The doctor says it’s all right for now, but I can’t wait forever. I’ve been given a specific time frame to work with. Because after…after the surgery I might not be able to conceive.”

Max could see how much the admission cost Annie. “I see. That’s why there’s a time limit.”

“I don’t know if you can understand how important this is,” Annie said hesitantly. “You’ve never been interested in becoming a father, so it probably doesn’t make sense to you.”

“No, it doesn’t,” he said honestly. Max didn’t have anything against children, but from what he’d seen, they complicated the dubious institution of marriage even more. “But try me.”

Annie rubbed her arms, a distant expression on her face. “I have a good life here in Mitchellton. I’m an honorary aunt to half the kids in town. I’m an honorary member of the PTA. I’ve stood in as a Lamaze coach for my friends when their husbands couldn’t handle it. I’ve even been an honorary ‘sweetheart’ for the men’s group at church.”

She stopped, and Max ached at what she’d said…and what she hadn’t said. She was “honorary” everything. A stand-in. It wasn’t enough, not for a woman like Annie.

“And when you go home…?” he whispered.

“I’m by myself. Except for my rabbit.” Annie gave him a smile, yet her voice shook. “I always thought there was plenty of time for things to change, but it turns out there isn’t.”

“The right guy wouldn’t care if you couldn’t have children,” Max said.

Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “I care. I don’t think I could marry someone, knowing he might never be a father because of me.”

Max wanted to argue the point, but he didn’t know what to say, and it seemed hypocritical in light of his own feelings on the subject.

“There’s an alternative, of course,” Annie continued. She looked uncomfortable and he frowned. “My doctor discussed it with me on my last visit. You see, I could have a child without going through the usual…process.”

“The usual process?” Max repeated, then suddenly realized what she meant. An alternative—as in getting pregnant in a fertility clinic and bypassing the father’s immediate role in conceiving the baby. “No. I don’t like that alternative,” he said immediately.

“Neither do I.” She sighed and kicked a tuft of grass.

“And what does your doctor mean, discussing something like that? He’s way out of line,” Max continued, annoyed.

Annie chuckled and patted his arm. “She’s just ensuring I know my choices. And I’m surprised at you. Artificial insemination is a very modern process. Why are you so shocked? You’re the one who lives in the city.”

“I’m not shocked.”

Except he was.

The idea of Annie going to a sperm bank tied his guts in a knot. Not that she wouldn’t be beautiful pregnant. Max had a brief, startling picture in his mind of how Annie would look, her tummy round with a child. Heat crawled through him, which shocked him even more.

Annie was…Annie.

A friend.

A terrific friend.

She helped his grandmother and reminded him of less complicated times. He could always count on her kindness and sense of humor. But even when he’d been a teenager with rampaging hormones, he’d never thought of her as a woman, except maybe in passing.

“…and it’s too dangerous.”

Max realized he’d missed Annie’s last statement. “What’s that again?”

She scowled. “I said I considered just going out to a bar and trying to seduce someone. But it doesn’t feel right, and I don’t know anything about seducing a man.”

“So you need my help…in seducing some guy so you can get pregnant.”

Max’s jaw hardened. There was no way he’d let Annie sleep with a stranger. Even if he had to follow her to a singles bar every night, she wasn’t going home with anyone. And he’d punch any guy who tried to get lucky. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t too thrilled to think of Annie sleeping with anyone—but a stranger was definitely out.

“Max.” Annie fixed him with a stern gaze. “You aren’t listening. I want to fall in love. I want my child to have a mother and a father. Sheesh. I asked you to help me find a husband, not do anything questionable. Believe it or not, a lot of men want to get married and have a family. It isn’t that unusual.”

“Oh. Yeah, right.” The shock of it all was getting to him, turning his normally clear thinking into chaos.

“It isn’t as if I’m trying to trap a man,” she said. “Or be underhanded. I just need help getting started. And it’s perfect timing—there’s a new teacher at the school. He was hired just to teach summer school, but the school board’s already asked him to stay and be the coach next year. He’s single and he obviously loves kids.”

Max crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re in love with the schoolteacher.”

“No, but we have a lot in common, and he seems very nice—he’s already coaching the football team on his own time. And there’s also the new sheriff,” Annie said. “He hasn’t been here long, and he’s single, but I don’t know how he feels about starting a family.”

“Hell, you’ve got this all thought out. What do you need me for?” Max demanded. He didn’t enjoy hearing about these other men, not in the slightest.

Her mouth tightened. “Because I don’t know the first thing about dating, even if they did ask me out. And why would they ask? I don’t know anything about clothes or looking attractive.”

“You are attractive.”

“Max, look at me,” she said insistently. “Really look. Then try to tell me how great I look.”

He looked, seeing the way the setting sun turned Annie’s hair into a shining cinnamon halo around her face. A faint breeze off the river blew against her shirt, outlining the slim, curving lines of her body. A pink, healthy glow brightened her face, and her eyes were defined by naturally dark lashes.

More than anything she had a mouth that begged to be kissed. Really kissed. The kind of kiss that lasted and lasted because you couldn’t bear to give up the taste.

Personally Max thought any guy blind enough to miss Annie’s essential beauty didn’t deserve to go out with her, much less kiss her like that.

All at once he shook his head to clear it. What was he thinking? The heat must have gotten to his brains, not to mention his better judgment.

“You see what I’m talking about, don’t you?” she asked. “I could try to change my image by myself, but I’m afraid I’ll look ridiculous and waste a lot of time. That’s why I asked for your help. And it’s not like I asked you to find me a husband, or even introduce me to anyone. I can do that on my own.”

I hope, Annie added silently.

She had flutters in her stomach, butterflies that wouldn’t go away. For a couple of weeks after the doctor had delivered the bad news, she’d been numb. In shock and wanting to deny it was true. But during the past few days she’d realized she would have to take matters into her own hands. Fate obviously wasn’t cooperating with biological reality.

“It’s getting late,” she murmured. “We should go back.”

It wasn’t that late, but Annie wanted to escape Max’s stunned scrutiny. In hindsight she knew talking to him had been a mistake. From what she’d heard, men didn’t understand a woman’s desire to have a baby. And he was so antimarriage. As for the other part—not understanding her lack of feminine confidence—that was also to be expected.

Men complained that women’s liberation had complicated things for them, that they didn’t know how to act around a woman. But it was worse for women. Especially women raised with traditional values. Of course, it wouldn’t kill her to ask the new schoolteacher out on a date. Rejection wasn’t a fatal condition. She might even be willing to ask him out if she could do something about the way she looked.

Annie glanced down, the corners of her mouth drooping. Her jeans were too big; she knew that. And the shirt wasn’t right, either. They were convenient for the kind of work she did at the store, nothing else. She’d gone into Sacramento the previous weekend, to a fancy boutique, but the saleswomen were so condescending she’d become annoyed and left without buying anything.

A pheasant suddenly burst out of the undergrowth, its wings beating noisily as it flew low to the earth. The rich colors of his feathers were bronzed by the setting sun.

The natural world had it easy, Annie decided. They didn’t have to buy clothing or worry how they looked. Nature decked them out and did a glorious job of it. In some cases nature did a glorious job with humans, too.

Like with Max.

From head to toe Max Hunter was about as perfect as a man could get. A lot of men started to go soft in their thirties, but not Max. He was tall, with strong shoulders and a flat stomach—every inch of his body was balanced power and masculine grace. His face was too masculine to be beautiful, but with his high, carved cheekbones and eyes so dark they were nearly black…just looking at him made a woman breathless.

She sneaked a peek at him. He seemed very distant and far away, and she bit her lip. Their friendship was more important than getting his help.

Long rays of light lit the garden as they approached the two houses. It was on the extreme edge of Mitchellton, more out in the country than in town.

Still silent, Max walked her to the back door.

Annie put her hand on the knob, then looked back over her shoulder. “Forget what I said, Max. I’ll manage by myself. I shouldn’t have said anything to you about my…situation. Just knock on the door when you want to drive into Sacramento. I’ll be around all day.”

“What about church? Aren’t you going tomorrow?”

She swallowed.

The children were putting on a special biblical play in the morning, in place of the regular service. They’d worked on the drama for weeks, but she didn’t think she could get through it without crying. Right now all those sweet young faces were a reminder of everything she might never have.

“No,” she said huskily. “I don’t expect to attend. I’ve got things to do here at the house.”

Max took a deep breath, wanting to say something, anything to fix what seemed unfixable, but Annie quickly slipped inside the house and just as quickly closed the door.

He should have said something else, he realized. Or hugged her, the way he’d wanted to earlier. He should have found a way to comfort her. But he’d blown it, letting his ego get in the way of being a friend.

With a sigh Max returned to his grandmother’s house and went out to the old sleeping porch. Grace kept a chaise lounge there, to sleep on during the occasional nights when the delta remained hot and humid. She wouldn’t let him put air-conditioning in the house, saying she preferred the old swamp cooler. And in truth, on most summer days the house caught a breeze from the river, making it livable.

He lay down on the chaise and put his hands behind his head. It was monotonously quiet away from the city. No traffic or other mechanical sounds, no energy, just the call of crickets and the underlying rhythm of the river in the distance.

Max closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape the memory of Annie standing on the levee, highlighted by the sunset. And he couldn’t forget the longing in her voice.

In the end his own feelings weren’t important—he didn’t have to share her dreams to care about them.

He would help Annie the best way he could and accept the consequences.