Читать книгу Their Precious Christmas Miracle: Mistletoe Baby / In the Spirit of...Christmas / A Baby By Christmas - Tanya Michaels - Страница 10

Rachel parked the car, then sat staring into the gray morning light. You are going to feel like an idiot if you do this. Technically she felt like one already, driving to the store this early on what felt like a fool’s errand. But it was Saturday; she still hadn’t started her period. What if—?

Stop it. Too many times she’d allowed the painful blade of hope to slip beneath her ribs. She was here simply to rule out the unlikely possibility so that she could stop torturing herself. Huddling deeper into her hooded knit sweater, she opened her door. As she hurried toward the grocery store, it occurred to her that there were more cars in the lot than she would have expected on an overcast weekend morning. With temperatures dropping and rain in the forecast, this was the perfect kind of day for sleeping in—a luxurious concept that Winnie’s dogs did not grasp. Rachel had quickly learned that it was folly to ignore the whimpering of a puppy who hadn’t been outside yet.

The store’s automatic doors parted, and she sighed at the immediate warm air. On mornings like these, she couldn’t imagine why anyone willingly lived up north. Inside, she faltered, not entirely ready to know the truth one way or the other. Stalling, she grabbed a cart even though she only intended to buy one thing. When the test came up negative, it would close another chapter on her marriage—necessary but painful. Like a root canal.

She squared her shoulders and shoved the cart, its one squeaky wheel grating a resolute tattoo against the tile. The pharmacy section was just ahead. Determined to get this over with, she rounded the corner at top speed, nearly crashing into Mindy Nelson.

“Sorry.” Rachel drew up short. The older woman had her buggy parked directly in front of the section Rachel needed.

“Hi! Haven’t seen you around much lately.” Following Rachel’s gaze, Mindy arched an eyebrow. “Am I in your way, hon?”

Since there was nothing on the other side of the woman but pregnancy tests, Rachel shook her head in quick denial. “No. I was just on this aisle to get some … lotion.” Blindly she grabbed a container off the shelf closest to her.

“Well, I’m glad I ran into you. You’ll be buying tickets to the winter dance this year, won’t you?” Mindy was one of the administrative staff at the local seniors’ center. Every year they sponsored a charity ball held at the Mistletoe Inn to benefit the center.

“Sure, put me down for one,” Rachel said distractedly. Even if she didn’t attend, she was happy to make the donation.

“Don’t you mean two?”

“What?” Nervously she grabbed another tube to give her hands something to do. “Oh, two tickets. Of course. My brain’s not really awake yet. Winnie’s dogs have been getting me up early, so I’m on autopilot for most of the morning.”

“I see.” Mindy peered into Rachel’s cart, making her aware that she’d thoughtlessly accumulated four bottles of lotion.

“My skin gets so dry during the winter,” Rachel babbled. Go away, go away!

“Uh-huh. Well, you take care. And tell that dishy husband of yours I said hello. I look forward to seeing you both at the dance.”

“Right. Bye now.”

Finally, Mindy returned to her cart and leisurely steered it to the next aisle. Rachel waited another moment, her palms sweaty and her heart thudding. One of the boxes announced in boldfaced type: Now you can know two days before your missed period! She was waaay past that. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the box and tossed it into the buggy. It bounced off one of the lotion bottles.

Sighing, she gathered the bottles up and began placing them back on the shelf. Then she headed in the direction of the checkout lanes. She wasn’t sure exactly what she noticed as she walked by the shampoo aisle, what she glanced in her peripheral vision that left her rooted to the spot. David. Was he so familiar, imprinted on her brain, that she knew him even with the barest sidelong glimpse? Maybe she’d instinctively recognized his jacket, which she had given him. Or smelled his familiar soap-shampoo combination. Whatever tipped her off, she took comfort in the fact that he hadn’t noticed her yet. She had her hood up; maybe she could just—

“Rachel?”

She scrambled around the side of the cart, retrieving the lone item inside and trying to tuck it beneath the hem of her sweater before he noticed. After the holidays, she needed to think seriously about making her fresh start somewhere else, not a small Georgia town that had only one major grocery store. “Hi.”

“You’re out and about early,” he said casually. “You looked so tired when you left Mom and Dad’s last night, I expected you would sleep late.”

The same frantic dizziness she’d felt in the car last week overcame her, a hundred times worse. She willed it away. David would probably notice if she hyperventilated or—

“Miss!” A man in a white shirt and red pharmacy vest was speed-walking down the aisle, waving his hands. “Miss, I’m afraid I need to … Oh, hi, Mrs. Waide.”

Rachel had refilled enough prescriptions here that most of the pharmacy staff knew her by name.

The bespectacled young man gestured at her hood. “I didn’t realize it was you. Thought you were a shoplifter.”

David laughed outright. “A shoplifter? She once made me turn around and drive back into Atlanta when she realized the restaurant left our dessert off the bill.”

“Well, I was afraid it would come out of the waiter’s pay,” she said weakly.

Too bad she didn’t have that Christmas-tree star with her now; she knew exactly what she’d wish for—the earth to open up and swallow her whole before the kid in the vest—

“Well, obviously she’s not a shoplifter. But you wouldn’t believe what people are too embarrassed to buy from this section. When she stuck that box under her—”

“I was on my way to pay for it!” She flinched at the shrillness of her own voice. The pharmacy guy actually rubbed his ear.

David pinned her with his gaze. “What box?”

“Nothing. Girl stuff,” she prevaricated, already walking toward the register.

Her stubborn husband, holding his green basket of skim milk and men’s deodorant, fell in step with her. “You’re embarrassed? Hell, Rach, I’ve bought tampons for you before.”

“That was different.”

“You know, you should probably put the ‘girl stuff,’” he said in an exaggerated whisper, “in the cart so that no one else thinks you’re shoplifting.”

“No one else saw me with it.” But when David chose to pursue something, he was doggedly single-minded. It would be just like him to follow her into the line. She chunked the pregnancy test back into the cart.

His jaw dropped. For a moment, she took satisfaction in having rendered him speechless.

“When,” he demanded, “were you going to tell me?”

“I don’t even know if there’s anything to tell. Hence, the test.”

His blue eyes shone. “You think there’s a chance, though?”

He looked excited, and it was hard to battle back her own automatic eagerness. A baby! What would it be like to hold a baby of her own? She gave a little jerk of her head. Don’t set yourself up for disappointments.

“I don’t know,” she said.

“You’d have to be more than a month and a half along. Maybe two?” In his enthusiasm, he was getting louder, drawing a few glances. “It’s been at least that long since—”

“Hey! Do you mind if we don’t have this conversation in the middle of the grocery store?”

“Good point. I’ll follow you to Winnie’s,” he said decisively. “Unless you want to come home?”

No, she had the memory of too many tests there, too many broken-hearted moments. “David, this could be nothing. It’s probably nothing. I can call you later. Or we could have lunch?” That would give her time to adjust either way.

He stared. “You’ve got to be joking. After everything we went through to …”

You mean everything I went through? It was a knee-jerk reaction. She knew it wasn’t fair. The physical side effects, and a significant portion of the emotional ones, had been hers to bear, but he’d paid his own price for their attempts.

“All right,” she conceded. “I’ll wait for you at Winnie’s.”

She barely allowed herself to peek at her rearview mirror on the drive to their subdivision, but she exhaled in relief as she approached Winnie’s house. David wasn’t behind her yet, so she had a few minutes to get her rioting emotions under control. She’d wanted this so badly, for so long, that hope seemed a natural response. But the timing! Divorce in the middle of a pregnancy? There was fear, too, as she relived the pains that had awakened her in the spring, the sight of blood and the sudden, excruciating knowledge that she and David wouldn’t be parents by winter after all.

With the back of her hand, she dashed away a few tears. Even from the driveway, she could hear the dogs barking in greeting. It was best not to leave Hildie inside when she got excited. Besides, the dogs would pitch a fit when David showed up, and Rachel could do without the clamor. Her temples were throbbing.

By the time David arrived, she’d ushered the dogs into the yard and poured two glasses of tea. It felt strangely formal and a little surreal, her own husband knocking on the front door. She thought briefly of their first date, the way her pulse had jumped when he’d knocked on the door of her hotel room. She’d told him when he asked her to dinner that she wouldn’t be in town long. Then you should definitely have dinner with me, he’d said, undeterred. It’s a limited-time opportunity. He’d been so good-looking.

He still was. The difference was that, back then, she’d delighted in being swept off her feet with no thought for what would happen once she landed.

In the kitchen, she handed him a glass. “Sorry it’s so sweet. I wasn’t expecting you when I brewed it.” David liked his iced tea with barely enough sugar to still call himself a Southerner.

“Thank you.” He studied her face as if searching for clues. Was he trying to decide if she looked pregnant?

“Or there might be some soda left in the fridge,” she said nervously.

“Rach, I didn’t come over for the drink.”

She gripped the back of a kitchen chair. “I know that. I’m just …”

“Anxious?” He smiled gently.

“Petrified. You?” In this candid moment in an acquaintance’s kitchen, Rachel felt closer to him than she had during the past three months in their own house. An unspoken truce sheltered them as they teetered on the edge of discovery.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted.

She returned his smile. “David Waide is unsure of something? The David Waide?”

“Yeah, well, we’ll call that big surprise number two of the morning.” He glanced pointedly at the white plastic grocery bag on the counter.

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “You know that if it turns out … if it had turned out positive, I never would have kept it from you. There didn’t seem like anything to tell yet. I was still—”

“I get it.” He set his untouched drink on the table. “So.”

Right. The moment of truth. “Why don’t you, uh, have a seat, and I’ll be right back?”

“Okay.” He swallowed. “Rach …”

She looked back over her shoulder.

“I don’t know. I feel like I should say something.” He flashed a wan smile. “Good luck?”

A semihysterical laugh burbled out of her. Once upon a time, the only thing she’d ever worried about before a test was whether her parents would be satisfied with an A, in case she fell short of an A-plus.

She thoroughly read the instructions, even though she’d done this before. After completing the necessary tasks, she decided to rejoin David. Even with the strain between them, she didn’t want to wait by herself for the next three minutes. He was pacing restlessly, but halted when he saw her. The question burned bright in his eyes.

“We’re supposed to wait now,” she explained.

“Oh. How long?”

She glanced at the clock on the microwave. “Probably two more minutes.”

“Ah.” He resumed pacing.

“That’s not helping my nerves,” she said without hostility.

“Actually, it’s not doing much to calm mine, either.” He stopped in midlap, on the opposite side of the kitchen island from her.

Winnie’s floor plan was so similar to theirs that Rachel could easily envision her own copper-bottom pots hanging above them, could practically hear the ticking of the cuckoo clock they’d bought during a weekend getaway in Helen, Georgia.

Finding yourself on a blind date with a first cousin was probably less awkward than this. “How’s the store doing?” she asked.

“Good. You know we hired Chloe to do a Web site? We’ve already filled our first out-of-state orders.” He sounded understandably proud. The supply store had been in the family for generations, and it was still improving and growing. All the Waides were involved to some extent, even Tanner, who ran an independent bookkeeping business.

Had David planned on raising their own child to take a hand in the business?

She considered the hypothetical. If it were up to her, she’d encourage the kid to go see more of the world before deciding to settle here. Mistletoe was a lovely community but insulated. Set in its ways. If you didn’t already have an idea of who you were and what you wanted, you might not figure it out here. Instead, you fell into a role other people defined for you. David had put in a good word for her and she’d easily snagged the job with May before their wedding, but she’d never intended to be there five years later. First enjoying the reduced workload and life as a newlywed, later focused on trying to start a family, she’d let her career aspirations fall away. Now there was a distinctly empty place in her life.

She’d made major decisions at a time when she was upset about her father’s health and uncertain about her own future—moving here, abandoning her career … marrying David. The result was that she’d leaned too much on him and the people she’d met in Mistletoe, too much on their hopes of having a baby. David had seemed to her as chivalrous as a medieval knight rescuing a damsel in distress. He wasn’t to blame for her realization that she didn’t want to be that damsel. He showed his love by coddling, and she was tired of being smothered. He expressed affection by anticipating her needs, and she was tired of someone making decisions for her. Whenever she’d gently tried to protest, he’d been confused and she’d felt ungrateful. Wouldn’t he be better off with someone who fully appreciated his gallantry?

David cleared his throat. “It’s been two minutes. Do you want me to wait here?” There was that underlying uncertainty in his voice again; it touched her in a way his overbearing confidence never could.

“Why don’t you come with me?” she offered.

Together, they padded silently down the hall. Outside the bathroom, David reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away.

But she did jerk to a stop inches shy of the threshold. “I can’t look. You do it.”

“You sure?”

She just couldn’t. Given the timing, it would probably be for the best if she weren’t pregnant, but emotionally, she couldn’t face another negative response. “I’m sure. It’s sitting next to the sink.”

Closing her eyes, she waited an interminable heartbeat of time, heard him suck in his breath.

“Oh my God.” His words were a reverent whisper.

“You’re kidding!” She knew he’d never joke about this. Still, maybe he’d misread the test, or … “Let me see.”

He moved aside, letting out an earsplitting whoop even as she viewed the proof for herself. “We’re pregnant!”

Her knees trembled at the sight of the pink plus sign. I’m pregnant?

I’m pregnant! She was carrying David’s baby. Tears welled in her eyes. Before she could classify them as happy crying or something more bittersweet, David pulled her into his strong arms.

And kissed her.

It caught Rachel totally off guard since she’d anticipated a hug of support or mutual joy. But he lowered his dark head, his intent registering a fraction of a second before his lips brushed hers. Hunger ignited deep inside her, flaring an excitement through her body that was startling in its force. After all, she’d kissed this man hundreds of times, the last dozen of which had felt rather obligatory.

This, though. Even knowing it was a mistake, she couldn’t help parting her mouth, tangling her arms around him and leaning into his warmth. He stroked his tongue against hers, drew back and sucked lightly at her bottom lip. A moan rippled through her. Her already unsteady legs threatened to give out from under her.

She would have liked to think self-discipline gave her the strength to pull away, but actually it was the realization that she could easily lose her balance. The two of them toppling over and cracking their skulls on Winnie’s bathtub was not how she wanted to commemorate the moment.

“W-wait.” She angled her head away, her voice breathless. “Wait.”

“Right,” he said sharply. His arms still around her, he maneuvered them into the hallway and began kissing her again.

Oh, she’d missed this. Missed feeling desire, missed feeling desirable. She thrust her tongue into his mouth, bunching his shirt in her hands. It wasn’t easy to move, pressed as she was between his hard body and the wall at her back, but she didn’t mind. The way their bodies slid together merely fueled her longing. When David’s hand slipped down the curve of her neck to the slope of her breast, she arched into his palm. But as he began to push aside the fabric of her shirt, reality clanged a warning bell in her head.

What the hell am I doing? She wasn’t sure, but it felt great. Not the point!

“David? Mmm … David, I—” She tilted her head back, closing her eyes as he kissed the exposed line of her throat. “David!”

He straightened, his expression dazed. Under other circumstances, she would have smiled at that. “Guess we shouldn’t be doing this at Winnie’s house?”

Men truly were from another planet. “We shouldn’t be doing this at all!” While he was still motionless, she took the opportunity to duck under his arm and scamper away. They needed distance.

“Rachel, you can’t mean it.” His normal composure was already falling back into place. “You wanted me as much as I want you.”

Well, she couldn’t argue that. “It’s true I was caught up in the moment, but temporary insanity aside, it would be a mistake for us to …” Have wild, passionate sex, the kind that had been the hallmark of their honeymoon? “… do anything physical. We’re separated.” Even as she said the word, a pang of loss assailed her.

“We were separated.” He held his hands palms up, gesturing toward her abdomen. “This changes everything.”

His presumption would have been annoying if she hadn’t been kissing him fervently ten seconds ago. She could see where that was a mixed signal. “My being pregnant complicates things,” she said gently, “but it doesn’t necessarily change anything.”

In the last year, angry at her infertile body and feeling she’d settled into a dead-end job, her self-esteem had taken a bit of a beating, something she was determined to correct. But what would it do to her pride to walk back to a man who’d seemed content to let her go just because she was having his child? While she understood the theory of staying together for kids, parenthood brought with it plenty of stress. You didn’t try to build houses on cracked foundations.

“The hell it doesn’t change things.” He looked more bewildered than angry. “Rach, you’re having my baby! I know you were upset because you couldn’t get pregnant, but …”

Upset hardly seemed adequate for what she’d endured emotionally and physically.

“That wasn’t the only problem,” she reminded him quietly. “And … I hope I’m having a baby. We both know that just because you conceive—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish the horrible thought.

“Oh, babe. Stop. Don’t even let yourself go there. C’mere.” He cradled her head against his chest. “Let me be there for you. You shouldn’t go through this all alone. You don’t want the tribulations of being a single mother.”

Not I love you, Rach, I miss you, only You can’t do this by yourself, you need me. She straightened. “I’m glad you were here, David. I really am, but it’s time you leave.”

“You’re mad.” He studied her with a blend of puzzlement and martyrlike patience. She didn’t know which aggravated her more. “You left, but I’m here trying to help and somehow you’re angry with me? Maybe it’s hormones making you emotional, but—”

“It’s not the hormones,” she interrupted before he angered her any further. At least, she amended silently, it wasn’t just the hormones. Part of it was repression. When she was upset or angry, he tried to tell her why she was wrong. When she was scared or worried, instead of hearing out her concerns, he told her not to entertain negative thoughts. Over time, she’d built up a volcano’s worth of emotions that had blown shortly after Thanksgiving. “Please go. We have Lilah’s shower this afternoon, and I have a lot to sort through before then.”

“I’ll help,” he said promptly.

“You’re doing it again.” She tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, but wasn’t entirely successful. “You think you’re listening to me, but you’re not hearing me. The best help you can give me right now is to leave me alone. Why do you always somehow think you know what I need better than I do?”

“That’s not fair.” He drew back, indignant. “When I met you, you were trying to figure out what you needed. You were overworked, overstressed, looking for a life change. I was there for you.”

“Yes, you were.” Which was how she’d ended up walking away from the career and home she’d been building and straight into Mistletoe, where his life had been mapped out since birth. “David, I will always be grateful to you for helping me through a bad time, but the situation’s changed. I’ve changed. I’m not looking for someone to rescue me.”

He said nothing, but the muscle tic in his jaw suggested that he wasn’t mollified by her words.

She took deep breaths. Whatever else was between them, she’d loved this man with all her heart—still loved him, on some level. And the possibility of this baby was a miracle. Having his child would bind her to David forever, even if their marriage vows failed to do so. The last thing she wanted was a future of bitter enmity between them.

“It’s okay,” she relented. “You had good intentions. And maybe you’re right about the hormones exaggerating everything I’m feeling right now. I don’t want to fight.”

“Me, either.” He ducked his head guiltily. “That can’t be good for the baby. Dr. McDermott would kick my butt. You’ll let me go with you, won’t you? To the doctor’s?”

“Of course. I want you to have an equal part in this.” That’s what she’d always wanted—equal partnership—though he’d always been affronted when she tried to explain.

“All right. Then I’ll go so that you can get some rest before the shower.” He smoothed her hair. “But I’m just down the street if you need anything or have any cravings or—”

“David.” She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. But if I need anything, I know how to find you.”

After he left, she leaned against the front door and pressed a finger to her still-tingling lips. Kissing him had been amazing. She couldn’t help imagining, just for a second, what it would have been like to allow herself the indulgence of being swept away, of making love to him again. And then what? She’d meant what she said; the infertility issues had no doubt exacerbated their problems, exposing the fault lines of their marriage, but they hadn’t been why she left.

It was true that she’d never planned to be a single mom, but nor did she plan to slap this pregnancy over their marriage like a Band-Aid. David had barely protested when she’d told him the marriage was over. She knew her husband. If he’d wanted to fight for her, nothing on earth would have stopped him. Fighting for the baby, while understandable, was not the same thing. Marriage wasn’t a cracked Christmas ornament. He couldn’t glue it back together, hang it on the tree and pretend everything was okay.