Читать книгу Baby By The Book - Kara Lennox, Kara Lennox - Страница 11

No, it couldn’t be, Susan thought as she knelt clutching her abdomen.

“Susan!”

Rand was at her side in an instant. “Don’t stop breathing. That’s it, relax…. Is this what I think it is?”

“It can’t be,” Susan said when she could talk. The pain subsided after a few seconds, almost as if it had never been there. “It’s three weeks early!”

“Okay, don’t panic,” Rand said soothingly. “Does it—three weeks? I thought you said you were—”

“I, um, stretched the truth a little. I figured the less pregnant you thought I was, the better my chances of keeping this job.”

“Oh, hell.” He looked like he wanted to wring her neck, and the only thing preventing him was her physical distress. “So did that feel like a labor pain?”

“How would I know? I’ve never had one before.”

“Does it feel like you imagine labor pains might feel?” he persisted, though he did help her to her feet and lead her over to one of the club chairs. He whipped the plastic off and made her sit down. Then he claimed the other chair and peered at her till she felt compelled to answer.

“It felt like a big hand grabbed me around my middle and squeezed as hard as it could.” And it had scared the bejeezus out of her.

“That sounds like a labor pain, all right.”

“How would you know?” She wasn’t sure why she was being so cross with him. It seemed easier to bear her fear by masking it with anger.

“First, I’m a doctor,” he said, as if explaining something to an idiot. “Delivering babies isn’t my specialty, but I had to do an obstetrics rotation just like every other doctor. And second, my three sisters have five children among them, and I was there when every single one of them went into labor.”

“How did you manage that?”

“Because my sisters—they spend a lot of time here. How many babies have you watched being born?”

“Okay, okay.”

“Feeling better now?” The lines of his face had relaxed slightly.

“Yes. I feel perfectly fine. I think it must have been a fluke. Something I ate.”

“Possibly,” he said, sounding doubtful. “Have you felt anything else strange this morning? Any sensations out of the ordinary?”

She had. Her lower back had been aching, but she’d figured that was perfectly normal, given the punishment she’d put her body through the past few days. She’d also felt kind of a funny pressure, down there, but she didn’t recall any mention of that as a precursor to labor in any of her maternity books, so she hadn’t thought much of it. At any rate, she wasn’t going to discuss that with Rand. It was much too personal, doctor or not.

“I’ve felt fine,” she fibbed. “I’ll just get back to work.” She stood, despite Rand’s troubled frown, and retrieved the hammer she’d dropped. She resumed work and after a couple of minutes managed to convince herself everything was fine, though Rand had not moved from his chair and he continued to study her like she was one of his lab experiments.

Then another pain gripped her, stronger than the first. She nearly fell over from the force of it. But Rand was suddenly there, his hands on her shoulders steadying her.

“Easy, there. Another one?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, just go with it. Don’t fight it. Breathe, relax…”

Her breathing was more like gasping, and she whimpered like a kicked dog, much to her embarrassment. But Rand just kept murmuring gentle encouragements to her. She focused on the soothing sound of his voice, the feel of his big hands on her shoulders, and after a few moments she realized the pain had receded.

“All right now?” he asked, practically dragging her back to the chair she’d just vacated.

She nodded.

“Then let’s get you to the hospital. Which one were you planning to use?”

“None of them,” she admitted. “I was planning to have a home birth, with a midwife. And that’s still what I want.”

RAND JUST STARED AT Susan. It took a few moments for what she’d said to sink in. Home birth? He knew that was an increasingly popular choice, but he’d never personally known anyone who did it.

“It’s a perfectly legitimate alternative to hospital births,” she said, crossing her arms defensively over her stomach. “My midwife is a nurse-practitioner. I’ve been healthy as a horse throughout the whole pregnancy, so I’m a perfect candidate.”

“You’re three weeks early.”

His one statement diminished everything she’d said, and she knew it. He could tell by the way she didn’t meet his gaze.

He grabbed the phone and handed it to her. “Why don’t you call your midwife and see what she has to say?” He knew he was taking a chance. But if the woman really was a trained nurse-practitioner, she knew as well as he did the increased risks a premature birth entailed, especially for the baby. He handed Susan the phone.

Home birth? Not in his home she wasn’t.

She made the call, and he busied himself at his desk sharpening his new pencils with the new noiseless pencil sharpener he’d just bought. After a couple of minutes she put down the phone, looking defeated. “Arnette agrees with you. She said she’ll meet me at Savannah City. She participates in a midwife program there.”

Relief washed through Rand. As an M.D., he knew he was somewhat prejudiced, but birth outside of a sterile hospital delivery room sounded almost barbaric to him in this day and age.

“Savannah City has an excellent obstetrics unit,” he said as he helped her out of her chair. “You can do all-natural childbirth, if you want. But they also have an excellent neonatal unit standing by.”

Susan’s eyes filled with tears. “Do you really think something will be wrong with her? What if they have to put her in one of those glass cases with all the tubes and needles—”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he said, trying to convince himself as well as her. He didn’t blame Susan for being frightened half out of her wits. He wasn’t exactly calm himself.

Hell, he was a doctor. He wasn’t supposed to be upset by a medical emergency. When any of his sisters had gone into labor, he was always the calm voice of reason. But none of them had been early.

“Where are we going?” she asked when he steered her toward the kitchen.

“The garage? My car? Or were you planning to hitchhike to Savannah?”

“You’re going to drive me?”

“How else did you imagine you would get there?

She blinked a couple of times. “Drive myself?” Another pain hit her then. She didn’t howl the way his sisters had. She whimpered. And it just about tore his heart out.

The back of his neck prickled with fear.

After the pain had passed, Rand took Susan through the kitchen where Clark was basting a small roast chicken.

“I’m taking Susan to the hospital,” Rand announced.

Clark grinned. “Why don’t you just change your specialty to obstetrics?”

“Very funny. I don’t think Susan appreciates jokes right now.” He headed for the back door.

“Touchy, touchy.” Clark shoved the roasting pan back into the oven and pulled off his apron. “It’s not like you haven’t done this drill a time or two. Hold on, don’t leave without me.”

“You’re coming, too?” Susan asked.

“Rand’ll need someone to drive so he can focus on vital signs and timing contractions and all that.”

“All right, all right, hurry up,” Rand said. He hit the garage door opener just as a familiar Jeep pulled into the driveway. Oh, hell. It was Alicia and Dougy.

Gesturing wildly as if her car were a 747, he guided his sister into a parking space so she wouldn’t block his exit from the garage. “Clark, get Susan settled into the back seat of the Bronco. Alicia!” he called as his sister exited her car. “No time to explain. Put Dougy’s car seat in the back of the Bronco. He can go to Savannah with us.”

Alicia, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, did not look ready for a job interview. “Savannah?”

“To the hospital,” he explained. “Hurry up! Can’t you see this is an emergency?”

Alicia looked at Susan. “You’re having a baby?”

“It appears so.”

“Oh, what great fun!” Alicia said excitedly. “Can we go? My job interview got rescheduled.”

“Susan’s labor is not a spectator event!” Rand objected. It felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. Was he the only one feeling the raw edges of panic?

“I’m great in a crisis,” Alicia said, appealing straight to Susan. “I went through this less than two years ago, so I know everything. I’m Rand’s sister, Alicia, by the way. Do you want me to come?”

Susan managed a smile. “Sure, the more the merrier.”

Rand threw up his hands in defeat. They all piled into the Bronco, Clark driving, Alicia in the passenger seat, Dougy, Rand, and Susan in back.

“No one has to give me directions,” Clark said, taking off.

Savannah was forty-five minutes away. Susan’s contractions came with reassuring regularity, about five minutes apart. That meant she was definitely in labor, Rand told her. In his most doctorlike voice, he assured her there was plenty of time, but he felt more like a nervous, first-time father than a seasoned medical professional.

He hadn’t felt this nervous even when he was a clueless kid, driving his mother to the hospital—with no driver’s license—so she could have Alicia. What was it about Susan that made him so afraid for her?

Halfway to Savannah, something occurred to Rand. “My God, Susan, we haven’t even called your husband! Someone give me a cell phone. I’ll dial it for you.”

“I’ve got one,” Alicia said brightly, digging through her purse. “It’s in here somewhere.”

“That’s all right,” Susan said. “I, um, won’t be able to get in touch with him now, anyway.”

“You mean he can’t be reached?” Rand asked, incensed. “Isn’t he the least bit worried about you? Doesn’t he have a beeper or something?”

Susan shook her head. “I’ll call him…later.”

Something was funny about her reaction. She did not seem overjoyed at the prospect of telling her husband he was about to be a daddy. And was she crying?

“Oh, all right, you might as well know,” she said, sniffing back tears. “I don’t have a husband to call.”

A stunned silence followed Susan’s announcement. Rand was more than surprised. All this time he’d thought Susan was so safe, so…so untouchable. He’d actually started feeling comfortable around her. A pregnant, married woman was no threat at all. But a pregnant, single woman…

“You lied to me about that, too?”

SUSAN HAD BEEN HOPING she wouldn’t have to reveal to Rand that she was an unwed mother—it was so embarrassing. She’d figured she’d be done with the bookshelves and far away from Rand before he could discover the truth.

But she couldn’t continue with the farce of the fictional husband.

She looked at him. He didn’t meet her gaze, and the expression on his face was impenetrable. Had she shocked him? Disgusted him? He definitely did not seem pleased with her news.

“Everything I told you about Gary was true,” she said. “Except he was never my husband. And he’s gone.”

“I know just what you’re going through,” Alicia piped in, breaking the awkward tension. “Dougy’s birth father wasn’t around either. But with all my own family to take up the slack, I hardly noticed anybody missing. I had six labor coaches, counting Clark.”

Susan relaxed a little. Rand’s sister, a short-haired pixie with huge, dark eyes, was an absolute delight, and she, at least, would stop the others from tossing her out on the side of the road. “It sounds like your family is very supportive.”

“And I’m sure yours will be, too. Here, why don’t you call everybody you know?” Alicia handed her the phone.

Susan didn’t take it. “I don’t really have anybody to call.” It was painful to admit it, but she had no one. She was an only child, and both parents were deceased. She had some distant relatives in Illinois, but that was it. As for friends, she had let them fall by the wayside when she’d gotten so wrapped up in her relationship with Gary. And after he’d left, she’d just folded in on herself. The only person she’d confided in lately was Arnette, her midwife, who was the closest thing she had to a friend, and Mrs. Regis.

Alicia, craning around to look at her, wore an expression of sympathy. “We’ll be your family, then, won’t we, guys? Babies are such exciting events. And the Barclay family knows how to do it up right. I’ll call Betty and Bonnie, too. They’ll want to come.”

“Alicia!” Rand scolded. “Why don’t you call Mom while you’re at it?”

“Oh, now, that would be a treat.” Alicia started pushing buttons on the phone.

Rand pulled the phone out of her hands. “You’re not calling anyone. Susan doesn’t even know us! I’m sure she doesn’t want a bunch of strangers around while she’s having a baby.”

Susan wanted to correct him. For some odd reason, she did want a lot of people around. For all these months, she hadn’t exactly viewed her pregnancy with joy. It had been more of a problem to overcome, a strategic challenge. Still, sometimes, when the baby kicked inside, Susan would feel a wave of affection for the life she was bringing into the world.

She knew she would find the reserves to be a good mother. But there’d been no giddy anticipation, no real excitement, just a lot of apprehension about how she would take care of this child when her own life was such a mess.

The idea of a bunch of excited people hanging around to talk her through the pain, to rejoice with her over the birth, to ooh and aah over the newborn, had an inordinate amount of appeal.

And the idea that Rand would be one of those people, maybe holding her hand, whispering encouragement in her ear, giving her ice chips, mopping her sweaty brow, was the most appealing aspect of all.

Now, what was wrong with this picture? Rand was her client. She’d lied to him about several things, and now he’d been shanghaied into shuttling her to the hospital. That didn’t exactly qualify him as her labor coach. But the fantasy had lodged itself in her mind and wouldn’t be evicted.

Another contraction hit her, much stronger than the others had been. She let out a yelp, then censored herself.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, let it out,” Alicia said. “Scream like a banshee. Everybody expects it, and you’ll get more sympathy.”

Susan laughed through tears of pain. “I don’t want to scream. It’s so undignified.”

“Undignified, unshmignified,” Alicia returned. “All the books tell you it hurts—they just don’t tell you how much.”

“You got that right.”

“It hurts more than when I broke my arm in third grade.”

“It hurts a lot more than when I had a root canal,” Susan added.

“I’ve heard passing a kidney stone hurts worse,” Clark added.

“Only a man would say that,” Alicia said. “Hurts worse than having your legs waxed.”

“Hurts worse than cutting your finger almost all the way off with a band saw,” Susan said.

“Have you done that?”

“See the scar? I was five.” She extended her hand for Alicia’s inspection. Silly as their game was, it did take her mind off the pain, and her fear. God, please let the baby be all right.

“Who are you, anyway?” Alicia suddenly asked, softening the abrupt question with a laugh. “Rand’s obviously been hiding a secret or two from us.”

“Alicia!” Rand exploded. “She’s not my secret. She’s my carpenter. She’s building a shelving unit in the office.”

“Oh.” Alicia gave her brother an appraising look, as if she didn’t quite believe that story. She looked at Susan. “You’re redoing his office?”

Susan didn’t answer because another contraction hit. Dougy, who’d been remarkably quiet and well-behaved, studied her curiously from his car seat as she panted her way through the pain.

Rand answered Alicia’s question. “Don’t you think it’s about time I turned that room back into an office? My nieces and nephews have laid waste to it for seven years. Anyway, I’ve got a real need for it now.”

“Ah, yes, the infamous skin-rash term paper.”

“Jeez, I get no respect. It’s a textbook.”

The argument ended there, because they’d arrived at the hospital.

THE MOMENT SUSAN WAS spirited away to her labor room, a woman thrust a clipboard at Rand. “You’ll need to fill out these forms, sir.”

“Oh, I’m not the husband…father…whatever.”

“Then where is he?”

“He won’t be here,” Rand said, unable to communicate Susan’s unwed state without feeling like a gossip.

“Well, her next of kin will need to fill out these papers.”

With a sign of resignation, Rand took the clipboard. “I’ll take care of it.”

A few minutes later, after Susan was firmly ensconced in her cozy labor/delivery room, Rand broached her about the papers. “I can fill them out, if you’ll tell me what to write,” he offered.

“I guess we have to,” she said uneasily.

The first part went smoothly enough. Name, address, phone. For “person to notify in case of emergency,” she thought a long while, then said, “Harriet Regis” and rattled off a phone number.

“Anyone else?” Rand asked.

“No.” She had another contraction, and her water broke. Arnette, the midwife, arrived and talked her through it. Meanwhile, Rand stepped off into a corner and wrote in his own name and phone as a second emergency contact. Just in case.

Rand waited until Alicia and Clark left to find some coffee and Arnette went outside to take a phone call before asking Susan about insurance—the next set of papers to be filled out.

She sighed gustily. “That’s why I wanted to do this at home. I don’t have any.”

“Insurance? You don’t have any at all? You told me you did!”

“I have liability insurance,” she answered softly. “And I have health insurance, too, but it doesn’t cover the pregnancy. I signed up for it too late.”

Rand didn’t know quite what to say to that. Having a baby was an expensive proposition, medically speaking. Costs would skyrocket if there were any problems with her or the baby…no, he didn’t want to think about that. He was less nervous now that Susan was safely hospitalized, but his mouth still felt like he’d just eaten five Saltines at once, and his heart still beat at twice its normal rhythm.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “that it’s completely irresponsible for anybody to get pregnant without insurance.”

“Sometimes life doesn’t go according to our plans,” he said diplomatically, though he was aghast at Susan’s mounting misfortunes.

“Well, I’m not irresponsible. My…Gary, the baby’s father, left quite unexpectedly. He quit the company he was working for and let them cancel both of our insurance policies without telling me.”

“When you were pregnant?” Rand sputtered. How could anyone be that coldhearted?

“He didn’t know I was pregnant. I was going to tell him, and then he was gone, and I was such a mess it was a couple of months before I even thought about insurance. By then it was too late.”

“It seems to me he ought to be held accountable for your medical expenses,” Rand said with a lot more control than he felt inside. A decent man doesn’t put a woman in danger like that. But Gary obviously wasn’t decent if he could care so little for Susan’s welfare. Kind of like Rand’s own father, now that he thought about it.

“I agree,” Susan said. “Only one problem. I can’t find him.”

“You’ve tried?”

“Yes. For months. He left me a note asking me not to contact him, and he took great pains to make sure I couldn’t find him. Even his former co-workers play dumb.”

“What about his family?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know where they are, either. We’d only been living together for about six months. I’d never met his family. He was sort of vague about them, hinting around that they weren’t on the best of terms.”

“His family probably disowned him.” Rand wondered if Gary made a habit of collecting women, dumping them after a few months, and disappearing. He refrained from saying anything else negative, but only to spare distressing Susan further.

“You don’t really want to find him, do you?” Rand asked.

“Yes. Yes, I really do.” Her eyes shined—with excitement or tears, he wasn’t sure. “Every child should have a chance to know his or her father.”

At her animated answer, Rand’s heart sank a little. He knew enough from his psych rotation to understand why he felt the inappropriate disappointment. He had become, at least temporarily, the most important person in Susan’s life. He did not enjoy the idea of this Gary reappearing in her life and suddenly taking over.

He could find Gary for her. He had resources she didn’t have—money, contacts. But he wasn’t going to make the effort. She was so much better off without the bum—didn’t she realize that?

Damn! Why did he suddenly feel so protective of her? She was an adult, not a child, not one of his sisters to be guided through a rough patch in her life.

They went back to the forms, and she recounted her medical history, which was surprisingly sparse. Other than the accident with the saw, she’d never seen the inside of a hospital, and apparently had rarely seen a doctor. “I told you I was healthy as a horse,” she said.

Then another contraction hit.

“Ow, ow, ow, ow!” She sobbed out a couple of curse words. Rand broke out in a sweat. This was the sort of outburst he was used to from seeing his sisters in labor, but it seemed more alarming coming from Susan, maybe because she’d been so stoic up to this point.

He was the only one in the room with her. He grabbed her hand. “Squeeze hard and count backward from twenty-five.”

“What?”

“Do it.”

She scrunched her eyes shut and squeezed his hand. “Twenty-five, twenty-four…” Suddenly she relaxed, loosening her grip.

“Bad one, huh?” He smoothed a loose strand of hair from her pale face, realizing too late how much like a caress his gesture was.

“Mmm.” She nodded.

Arnette, a plump Polynesian woman with a reassuring smile, came back into the room. “How’re you doing, sweetheart?”

Susan was still trying to catch her breath. “Feels like it’s not a baby inside me, it’s a buzz saw with a dull blade.”

“We can get you some medicine, you know,” Arnette said.

“No, I want to do it natural.”

“Then I’m just going to check your dilation.”

That was Rand’s cue to leave. He grabbed the clipboard with the completed forms, then wandered downstairs, thinking he might locate some coffee. Instead he found himself in the business office, talking with the same clerk. He handed her the clipboard. She smiled her thanks, but the smile died on her lips as she glanced at the form.

“No insurance?”

“Um, no.”

“She should be at the county hospital, not here,” the woman said frostily. “We don’t accept indigents.”

“She’s not—” Hell, he didn’t feel like arguing. To his utter amazement, he whipped out his credit card. “Put Ms. Kilgore’s charges on here.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

THE NEXT FEW HOURS went by in a haze of anticipation, pain and cold fear for Susan. Arnette was there, reassuring Susan in her lilting accent that everything was progressing nicely. Clark and Alicia took turns telling her jokes. But nothing comforted her—nothing except Rand’s presence.

She wasn’t sure why she felt safer with him there. Maybe because he was a doctor, although it wasn’t like she was suffering from prickly heat. She just knew that when she felt most afraid, sure something was wrong, positive the labor would go on for eternity, she would catch him from the corner of her eye and instantly feel calmer.

He even did all those things she’d fantasized about. He held her hand. He blotted the perspiration from her forehead. He fed her ice chips. During those increasingly long and frequent contractions, she felt his attention on her in a visceral way, almost like he was willing her pain away.

In her less sane moments, she fantasized he was her husband, the father of her child, and that when the baby was born they would be a family. She knew it was a juvenile rescue fantasy, but she allowed herself to savor it. Anything to get through her labor, which really sucked, in her opinion.

At one minute to midnight, Penelope Kilgore made her appearance. Susan hadn’t thought much about names, but when Rand declared the newborn was bright and shiny as a new penny, the name sort of stuck. Penelope—Penny for short.

She was tiny—barely over five pounds—but she was perfect in every way, or so Susan thought when they put the baby into her arms. She was a miracle. How could Gary not fall in love with this precious scrap of life they had created, even if it was accidental?

Then a dose of reality hit her. This was real. She was a mother, now, and she had this child to feed, nurture and protect.

She looked up at Rand and forcefully dislodged the fantasy that had gotten her through labor. No beating around the bush, now. “I have to find Gary.”