Читать книгу Merry Christmas, Babies - Tara Quinn Taylor - Страница 11

SATURDAY MORNINGS were sacred. Free time to do whatever he wanted. The time reserved for no responsibility. The complete antithesis to the Saturdays of Joe’s youth that began before the sun rose with a house full of arguing and whining and the unending chores that the conglomeration of needs and wants of so many children living under one roof necessitated.

He was thinking about taking his canoe out to the river, seeing how far he could get before stopping at one of the restaurants on the shore for lunch. Some were right at the mouth of the Flat River, where it joined the Grand River, but he could travel seventy miles on the Flat alone if he wanted to. Of course his favorite little diner was right there on Main Street in Lowell.

Maybe he’d go to the gym and shoot some hoops instead. And then go to the Levee for lunch. If he went to the gym he’d have to shower again.

Turning off Main Street along the river, Joe considered the canoe again. A day alone, and the physical exertion of paddling sounded good. He could pack a lunch and spend the whole day on the water. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. The July temperatures were perfect. And there would be a breeze on the river.

Sounded like heaven.

He passed her house. Continued on.

She’d taken off after making tacos for them all for lunch yesterday. She’d had her twelve-week doctor’s appointment.

Joe slowed. Turned around. He had to go back for his canoe anyway. And to exchange his sandals for running shoes and put sunscreen on skin left exposed by his denim shorts and loose tank top. He should probably grab a T-shirt instead. Right after he stopped by Elise’s. He’d hoped she’d call—not that she ever had before—but he had an investment in what was going on here. His livelihood was firmly tied to hers. If something happened to her…

Joe pulled into her drive.

SOMEONE WAS AT the front door. Staring at the bathroom ceiling, arms and hands lying beside her on the cool tile, Elise considered rolling over, getting up onto her hands and knees, crawling to the door. And couldn’t think of a single person who would be there who would be worth the effort. A blessing, at the moment, of being alone in the world.

Her eyes were closed when the second knock came.

She was throwing up again at the third.

And by the time the side doorbell rang, she was experiencing enough of a reprieve to stand. Shakily, but at least she was upright.

The way she planned to be for the entire pregnancy, though how on earth she was going to make it through the whale stage on her feet she didn’t know. She was only at the beginning of the fourth month and needed nothing as badly as she did to lie down.

After rinsing her mouth and gargling only the tiny bit of mouthwash she dared put in her mouth lest it incite another bout of retching, she shuffled her way to the door facing the river. She hadn’t showered yet. Hadn’t even run her fingers through her hair. And was still wearing the sweatpants and sleeveless top she’d slept in.

Samantha and Darin were entrenched firmly beneath her bed. They’d hated her retching, too.

Maybe the crib sheets had arrived. The mattresses had been bare for almost a week. Or it could be the…

“Joe?” Elise squinted up at her business partner, feeling as though she’d stepped onto another planet. Joe played on Saturday mornings. She’d never once heard from him then. Not even in college.

“I thought you were a changing table,” she said, leaning against the door, half blinded by sunlight. “I was hoping to get it put together this weekend,” she added irrelevantly.

He’d never seen her without makeup. She felt too wretched to care.

“I got you out of bed.”

“No.” She started to shake her head and stopped. Too much movement, too quickly. “I’ve been up over an hour.”

Making love to the toilet.

“What’s wrong?” Something had to be or he wouldn’t be there. And whatever it was, she’d deal with it. She’d promised him.

“That’s what I’m about to ask you.”

“Oh. I’m fine.” She leaned her head against the door. “Just trying to convince my children that eating is a necessary part of my life.”

She’d started laughing at herself half an hour before. Right after sobbing had caused another bout of vomiting.

He frowned, staring at her.

“Morning sickness,” she explained and bit back a smile at the embarrassed dawning of understanding that crossed his features.

“Should I call a doctor?”

“Nope. It’s happened before. It’ll pass. I could be as good as new in a matter of minutes.”

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It looks to me like you should spend the day in bed. If it’s anything like the flu, you need rest to regain your energy.”

“Nope. Eating takes care of that—once I’m allowed to do so.”

“Is it always this bad?”

She really wasn’t in the mood to chat.

“For me, or in general?”

“Either.”

“For me, yes. In general, I have no idea. But I’d guess not. I can’t imagine women electing to go through this a second time.”

He had to have a reason for being there other than the state of her stomach. It would be good if he’d just tell her and be on his way before she gave in to the urge to slide down to lie on the floor. The entryway was tile, too, and tile was her friend. It was cool. And didn’t move at all.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t seem to be leaving.

“My theory is that if one kid objects to nutrition, all the rest will decide to give it a try.”

She’d come up with this theory in the middle of the night a week or so ago, picturing her four offspring with minds and motivations of their own—it made them seem more endurable somehow.

Joe’s bark of laughter surprised her. She wasn’t usually able to amuse him.

“They’re considerate brats, though,” she continued babbling, closing her eyes as she felt the breeze coming up from the river across the street. “They refrain from midday or evening interruptions, keeping all food rejections to the night and first thing in the morning.”

Would he never leave? The living room sofa was through the foyer door and six yards away. The light green cushions were silky, soft. They’d be cool.

And they didn’t smell.

She could let go of the door. Take enough steps to make it there.

The world would stop spinning as soon as she lay down. In another fifteen minutes, assuming her babies were done protesting, she’d be good to go.

Cool cushions against her cheek. Six yards away. Fifteen minutes.

Pushing off from the open door, Elise stumbled toward her destination.

JOE CRACKED HIS ARM against the doorjamb in his haste, but he got to her before she hit the floor. With fear in his heart, he picked up his partner, holding her gingerly as he carried her to the closest piece of furniture in the house—the living room sofa.

He’d never held her before. Wasn’t even sure if they’d ever hugged as good friends sometimes do.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, squinting up at him as he straightened her legs against the cushions and grabbed a throw pillow for beneath her head. “I got dizzy there for a second.”

She licked lips that looked chapped. He debated calling an ambulance.

And he settled for her doctor.

“Where’s your doctor’s number?” he asked, striding over to the phone.

“I don’t need her.” Her voice sounded stronger.

Hands on his hips, Joe stared at her. “Well, you clearly need something. What can I do?”

“A bottle of water from the fridge might help,” she said. And then, when he was halfway to the kitchen, added, “And, Joe? There’s a box of crackers on the second shelf in the pantry by the stove. Would you mind bringing it, too?”

He’d have felt better calling a doctor.

TWENTY MINUTES LATER JOE conceded that she’d been right. While Elise still needed a shower and fresh clothes, her color—and her wits—were back to normal as she sat curled on one end of the couch, still munching away. She’d finished half of one of the four packs in the box he’d brought in since they’d been sitting there.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?” he finally asked, half-amused as he sat across from her. Another minute and he’d go.

“Last night.” She pulled one last cracker out of the tube and put the rest in the box. “But apparently the kids don’t like spinach and salmon. I don’t think they let me keep any of it.”

That couldn’t be healthy.

Nor could walking around ready to pass out at any moment.

“Does your doctor know you live alone?”

“No.”

He’d expected an affirmative. Expected to find that there was some practical explanation for why she should be safe, alone, in her condition. He’d expected to be told that he was overreacting again.

“She thinks you have a roommate?” She’d know the history of Elise’s pregnancy, surely, that she was a single woman who’d chosen artificial insemination as a means of procreating.

“Or a live-in caregiver.”

The hesitant way she spoke gave him pause. And with years of practice of communicating with Elise, if not reading her expressions, he filled in the blanks.

“She told you it wasn’t safe for you to be here alone.”

“She said it wasn’t wise.”

Damn. Joe lost all appetite for a picnic lunch on the water.

“Not so much because of the morning sickness,” Elise continued as he barely bit back the reprimand he needed to utter. “With four babies there’s the possibility of some complications—I told you this before.”

“Yeah,” he muttered. What could possibly have driven her to do this to herself? Remembering that night more than a month ago when he’d met his longtime friend for the first time, he answered his own silent question.

“That’s not to say there’ll be any,” she added quickly. “I could have a perfectly normal pregnancy.”

“What are the odds?”

She hesitated.

“Of a perfectly normal pregnancy?”

He nodded.

“Three percent.”

“Three percent?” Joe jumped to his feet and glared down at her—until he realized what he was doing. He sat down again, this time beside her on the sofa, and studied the class ring he’d worn since college.

“Did she tell you this yesterday?” he asked more calmly, though inside he was still bouncing off the walls.

He wasn’t going to lose her over this. Couldn’t she see that their lives were irreversibly linked?

Elise peered at him as though assessing his emotional weather. “Two weeks ago,” she finally said quietly.

This wasn’t like her. Not at all. Elise faced challenges head on. She always had a plan. She never procrastinated.

“Were you planning to wait until you had a ‘complication’ before you did something about having a live-in caregiver?” he asked. He instantly regretted his sarcasm. She was an adult with a right to whatever life she wanted.

His role was to support that just as she’d supported him all these years. Somehow.

“I’ve been reviewing potential applicants for ten days.”

Joe felt relieved. “And?”

“I can’t afford anyone without a police record.” She chuckled as she spoke. Joe failed to see the humor.

“The down payment on the office suite put you in a tight spot, didn’t it?”

“That and the mortgage on this place,” she admitted. “A couple of years ago I tied up most of my funds in an IRA. I’d lose half of it to penalties if I cash in early.”

A couple of years ago they’d seen their first sizable profits in the company. He’d invested a chunk, as well. “If you’d told me that buying the suite would be a hardship we would have held off.”

“Look, I’m perfectly comfortable as long as I don’t see a huge increase in monthly expenses. Besides, we needed to move if we were going to continue to grow. Not only was there not enough space in the old offices for more staff, but with the kind of clients you’re bringing us, these millionaire business owners, we needed an office that would instill confidence.”

They’d had several conversations to that effect, he knew, mostly at her instigation. They’d both taken a risk, expecting a payoff within the next eighteen months.

“I could sell this place.” She glanced around, her eyes wide and unexpectedly childlike, but when she looked at him again she was her usual practical, calm self. “But not in time to hire someone immediately. I’d have to list, sell, close and move. And in another five months or so, I’m going to need the room. Anyway,” she added, her chin lifting, “I can afford this house. I make enough to provide everything I’m going to need for the babies. I just can’t afford a full-time nanny. Or a full-time companion for myself while I’m pregnant.”

She’d been expecting one child, not four. A normal pregnancy, not one that was going to tax her body to the limit—and possibly beyond.

“What about someone from the office? They all love you. Have you asked if anyone wants to move in here—just until the babies are born and you’ve got a routine established?”

“Would you want one of your employees living with you? Hearing you puke by night and taking orders from you by day?”

The sarcasm wasn’t like her.

“No.”

“Besides the obvious conflict of interest, there is no one.” Her tone softened. “Mark and Sam are out.”

“But Angela and Tamara are both single.”

“You need to spend more time in the office, Joe, if you want to keep up on the staff’s personal lives.” Her chiding was playful. “Angela just moved in with Richard last weekend, and Tamara’s mother fell and broke her hip—she’s staying with Tamara indefinitely.”

Joe got up and crossed to the window looking out on the sizable expanse of thick green grass that ran from house to road. He could see three huge old trees surrounded with colorfully blooming flower beds and knew there were more around back. The lot Elise’s house sat on took up a city block. There were no sidewalks, just lush green space with quiet streets bordering three sides.

A perfect yard for growing kids. They could have a softball game on one side of the house, play regulation croquet, play hide-and-seek, swing as high as the sky. So why did he feel, as he stood there, that the place was a trap, imprisoning him?

His car was there—at the end of her drive. He could leave any time. Would be leaving soon for a day on the river.

He was a free man.

“I’ll do it,” he said.

FOR ONE SECOND Elise felt enormous relief. She’d never considered such a solution and it was so perfect, so right. This was about money and Joe had as much interest in her financial status as she did.

To a point.

And then he turned around. A man with a great body, wearing an old pair of denim shorts and white tank top. A man who oozed sexuality. And he was her business partner.

“It would never work,” she said.

“Of course it would.” His face was serious, his hands were shoved in his pockets and his feet were planted slightly apart. “It’s the obvious answer.”

Elise suddenly wished that she’d showered, put on makeup. Washed her hair.

She wanted to stand, too. Face him eye to eye. Knew it was important. But she couldn’t do it. Not in old sweats and a sleeveless pajama top. She settled for sitting upright with her feet on the floor. Then, crossing her arms, she reminded herself that she was alone, free, boss of this house. Of her life.

“You and I are so good together because we’ve always managed to keep our private lives separate from our work partnership.”

Not entirely true, she knew, but close enough. His expression didn’t change.

“Can you imagine what we’d do to each other if we attempted to share living quarters?” she asked.

“Isn’t that what we do every day?” he countered. He stepped closer. “For the past ten years we’ve been together at the office for more waking hours of the day than we’d be home together at night.”

“But that’s because we were working. And you were out on sales calls a lot.”

“We co-own the office, Elise. We’ve managed to decorate, furnish, coexist without ever arguing.”

“We argue all the time.”

“We debate. And not about the office. Not about anything that matters.”

That was true. But—

“Let’s not make a major event out of this, okay?” he said. Not since his mother had been diagnosed with kidney disease had he looked this serious. “It’ll only be for a few months—until the babies are born and you’ve got a routine established. You can bring people in to help with feedings. At the end of the year, assuming I do my job, there should be enough of a profit bonus to enable you to hire a full-time nanny until the kids are old enough to go to day care. If that’s what you plan.”

Elise was impressed that he’d thought her life through with such detail. Still…

“No. I won’t risk our working relationship because I made a choice that had unexpected consequences.”

“It’ll be more of a risk if B&R loses you.” He was really worried that might happen.

“I told you, I won’t let this affect—”

“Cut the crap, Elise,” Joe said, his face flushed. “When are you going to get it? You aren’t in control here. You have no way of knowing what the next months are going to bring. And if you don’t start facing reality, the results could be a lot worse than they need to be.”

She released a breath. “I won’t let you down,” she told him, every word filled with conviction. “That I know for certain, Joe. You’re as much a part of my life as my arms and legs. Without you—without B&R—I have nothing. B&R gets me up in the morning. It gives me confidence and security. It challenges me. It consists of most of the people I know well in this world. I won’t lose it.”

“Then face facts,” Joe said. “You’re taking a huge risk being here alone. And I have absolutely nothing at my condo that won’t do just fine without me for the next several months.”

That was an understatement. She’d bought him a kitten once—he gave it to one of his sisters. She and everyone in the office had bought him a fish tank for Christmas the following year. He’d let Kelly take it in the divorce. She’d bought him plants—he’d left them at the office for her to water.

“I know your habits,” he continued. “And that’s half the battle of living with someone. You’re an early riser, you don’t stay up past eleven and you hate having the news on right before bedtime.”

Elise’s surprise must have shown on her face because he said, “You’re at work before the cleaning crew. If I call you past eleven you’re asleep and one time when Kelly and I were over for dinner, the two of you talked about watching the shopping network at night because it put you to sleep.”

Elise remembered Kelly had started the conversation by enlisting her help in a battle for the bedroom TV, claiming that Joe insisted on having the news on but always fell asleep as soon as it started, leaving her to lie there in the dark and hear all kinds of horrid things.

“You don’t like pizza for breakfast,” he said with a completely straight face. “You eat frozen dinners, but prefer salad, and you’d rather stay in than go out at night.”

Not really. But when you were a woman alone…

“It would make most sense if we eat together when we’re both here,” he said now. “We could share grocery costs, cooking and cleanup. But if you’d rather not, I’m okay with that, too.”

“No, that’s fine,” she said, slightly woozy again as she filled in the pause he’d left.

“I’ll pay half the utilities. Personal incidentals we’ll buy separately.”

“Right.”

“If you show me which room I’ll be using, I’ll go home and pack and get moved in by tonight.”

He really meant to do this.

“Joe.” She reached out and grabbed the material of his shorts as he turned to head for the formal dining room and the short hall off from there that led to two of the three bedrooms. The third, hers, was directly off the dining room. “We can’t do this. You can’t move in here.”

“I already have,” he said. “I just haven’t brought my stuff over yet. Now which room would you like me to use?”

It was impossible to argue with Joe when he was like this—especially when she was coming off an entire night of nausea and vomiting. At the moment, he made a doom-impending sort of sense.

He made it to the hallway before she did and had already figured out which of the two extra bedrooms he’d use. The largest had four sandalwood cribs and two white, pink and blue dressers. Darin was sleeping on top of one of the dressers. Samantha was nowhere in sight.

“I’ll switch with you,” Elise blurted, coming into the smaller room behind him. “Once the babies come, if you’re still here, I’ll need to be next to them.”

He looked as if he was going to argue that, too.

“Plus, I’ll be closer to the bathroom.”

One of the few downsides to owning the older home. She and Joe were going to be sharing the one bathroom.

And, she was afraid, much, much more than that.