Читать книгу New York City Docs - Tina Beckett, Amalie Berlin - Страница 21

SHE COULDN’T CONCENTRATE.

No matter what she did, Tessa couldn’t seem to get the upper hand on Clay during practice. They’d come to a kind of uneasy truce over the past week and a half, coming to practice and performing in a way that even Marcos seemed happy with.

Only not today.

Because her period was late. It was to be expected that her system would be messed up, as she’d stopped taking the Pill, so one day was no national tragedy. But she couldn’t shake the feeling there might be another reason behind it.

If so, what was she going to do? Neither of them had spoken about the issue since that day in his office, and they certainly hadn’t slept together again. But there was a nagging sense of disquiet inside her. If she was pregnant, she was going to have to let him know. It was only right. He was bound to find out, even if she tried to hide it from him. And then all hell would break loose.

And rightfully so.

She’d told him she wouldn’t try to keep the baby from him, and she wouldn’t.

But what that would entail she had no idea. She didn’t want him to start back up with the gifts… with always needing to take care of her.

She misjudged a jump and slid sideways, falling to the mat. For the third time today.

“Tessita.” Marcos clucked his tongue. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” Her voice came out a little too shrill, making both the studio head and Clay look sharply at her. Hell. If she kept this up, she might as well hold up a sign and let everyone know: I missed my period, and I’m terrified.

Clay touched her arm. “You okay?”

The words were said with such compassion that her eyes stung. Blinking quickly to rid them of the sensation, she went back into the “ready” stance. “I’m fine. Let’s try it again.”

“I think maybe that’s enough.”

And so it began. “Clay, I said I’m fine.”

Everyone else in the studio had already finished, and Marcos had sent them home so he could work with just the two of them. So there was no beat to drive her forward, no supportive murmurs from the circle of participants to help center her.

Just keep telling yourself that, Tessa. You know it has nothing to do with that.

Maybe she should let Clay help her. Not financially, but emotionally. There was nothing smothering about that. If she was pregnant, Molly would be this child’s half sister. And Megan and Frank Matthews would certainly want to see the baby from time to time. It was selfish to think she could cut Clay’s parents out altogether.

And her own dad would want to help, as well. They both had busy schedules, but that could change. This would force them all to slow down. To rely on each other.

It wasn’t charity. It was a village raising a child. Wasn’t that the right way to go about it? She had to believe it was.

Yes. She would talk to him about it after their session was over. Abre a mão—open her hand—as Brazilians liked to say and compromise just a little bit.

As long as he didn’t go overboard, they should be fine.

She might not even be pregnant.

Yes, but shouldn’t she be prepared if the possibility arose?

“Ready?” she asked him.

He nodded. “If we’re going to do it, let’s do it.”

This time, when she swerved, Clay matched her, move for move, step for step. It was the best session they’d had the whole time they’d practiced.

Fifteen minutes later, Marcos called time and gave her a quick hug, handing her a towel. “Perfeito. I don’t know what that last part was all about, but do not change one thing before next week. I’m counting on both of you to put on a good show. One as good as you just did. Can you do that?”

Her eyes clipped Clay’s and smiled when he nodded. “Cross your fingers, Marcos. Because that’s as good as it’s going to get.”

“That’s as good as I need it to be.” He tossed Clay a towel, as well. “I’m going to lock up and make sure everything’s secure before I leave. I’ll see you at our last practice.”

The second Marcos was out of earshot Clay turned to her. “You’re late, aren’t you?”

Her eyes widened, although she should have realized he would figure out why she was off her game. “Yes, but only by a day. That could be because my hormones are out of whack.”

“Possibly.”

He didn’t look convinced and suddenly Tessa wanted to make sure things were okay between them. She hadn’t done that during their breakup and it was something she’d regretted… not really talking to him about things. Touching his arm, she said, “I’m so sorry for making a mess of this. If I’d just let you use protection—”

His mouth went up into a half smile. “You’re not the only one to blame. You didn’t expect me to keep you at my house and ply you with wine and kisses.”

“I don’t remember the wine, but I definitely remember the rest of it.”

Linking his fingers with hers, he gave her hand a squeeze. “It’ll be okay, Tess. No matter what happens.”

He truly believed that. That fact filled her with hope. Maybe it would be okay. “Will Molly be upset if I do end up being pregnant?”

“I think she’ll be thrilled. Especially if you give us a chance to be involved in the baby’s life.”

She glanced back to make sure Marcos wasn’t coming and nodded toward the front door. She wanted to drop a bombshell and see what happened. Open your hand, Tessa, abre a mão.

Once they were outside, she turned to him. “You talked about wanting to help.” She licked her lips. “If it comes down to it, I think I’m going to need it. I can’t expect my dad to shoulder everything on his own.”

“Of course. I already said I’d—”

“I don’t want money. I’d just like the baby to have a support system. And to know his or her sister.”

He touched her face. “You won’t regret it, honey. I promise.”

Leaning into his touch, she tried to make herself believe that it was all going to be okay, just as he’d said. Because she’d made her decision, even if she hadn’t voiced it yet. She was keeping the baby, if there was one. She just had to figure out how to have a child and still reach for her own dreams.

Letting someone help didn’t have to mean being a charity case. She would keep telling herself that. There was a world of difference between bags of used clothes and a new life that needed to be nurtured and loved. This was her way of starting down that road.

Clay’s thumb curved under her jaw. “Molly’s with me tonight, or I’d ask you to come home with me.”

“It’s okay.” She thought for a minute or two. “How would you feel about the three of us doing something together?”

“You, me and Molly?”

Tessa nodded.

“I think Molly would be thrilled. Are you sure?”

“Yes. A close friend just left for a medical mission, and I’m feeling a little lost these days. Although I think she’s the one who changed the labels on those collection jars.”

“I told you you had some loyal fans. Okay, let me call Mom and let her know we’re on our way.”

Tessa hesitated. “Will this make things awkward with your mother?”

“She loves you, Tessa. Nothing will ever change that.”

Warmth bloomed inside her that spread to every square inch of her being. “I was pretty awful when we broke up.”

He shrugged. “I never told her most of what happened. Just that we decided it wasn’t right. And if things change, she’ll be over the moon.”

“You’re a good man, Clayton Matthews.”

“Maybe not so good, because right now I’m wishing that Molly was spending the night with my mom.”

She wrapped her hand around his upper arm as they crossed the street and made their way down the sidewalk. Traffic rushed by at a frenetic pace, a harsh reminder of what they shouldn’t do. “Let’s not be in a hurry, Clay. We’ll just take everything slow and see what happens.”

“I’m up for that.” He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

Maybe time had dulled the pain of the past. She didn’t want to get her hopes up or think that they could go back to what they’d been before. But maybe they could forge something… friendship, or even a little more out of the ashes of the past.

She’d never really gotten over him, she could admit that to herself now. It still didn’t mean they should go back in time or start dating again.

Dating?

Hadn’t they already gone light years beyond that? They’d made love more than once at his house and again at the hospital. There was evidently something still sizzling on the burner between them. And maybe those sparks had created a tiny new human. She didn’t know yet. But within the next couple of weeks Tessa was sure they’d have their answer. Whether they were ready or not.

“Me next!” Molly watched Tessa go down the plastic slide at Family World and clapped her hands in glee.

Clay wouldn’t have believed Tessa had this in her, but the kids’ outdoor park and eatery had been her suggestion. And she’d claimed it had been one of her favorite places to go as a child. Bright stadium lights illuminated the place as if it were still daytime.

Molly seemed to like it, that was for sure. She’d barely let go of Tessa’s hand long enough to try any of the rides herself, so Tessa had been forced to go with her on most of them. Which was fine by Clay. Something about seeing the pair of them together gave him a taste of what it would be like to see her with their child—and created a funny little ache in his chest that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

It was strange how he’d gone from “if” there was a child to hoping there was one. Tessa would be nothing like Lizza. She put her heart and soul into people… not into things. It was probably one of the reasons she’d wanted to become a doctor so very badly.

And the fact that he hadn’t needed to finagle his schedule around to be with her only added to the enjoyment of spending time together. It seemed as if they were on the verge of the breakthrough that had eluded them during their years together.

But he would take it slow, just as she’d asked.

Tessa laughed as Molly tugged her toward the next attraction, a huge trampoline area, sectioned into large rectangles so multiple people could bounce at one time. The whole thing was then surrounded by a net and rubber bumpers.

“Wait.” He slowed her with a touch to the arm. “You’re not going on there, are you?”

“It’s fine. Dr. Powers said I could follow my normal routine.”

“That looks normal to you?”

“Absolutely.” She gave him a smile and a wave and got in line with Molly, leaving him to head up to the elevated viewing area.

The attraction was busy, and they had to wait until two people exited before they could go in. Then they were climbing up the stairs and onto the taut canvas surface toward the available rectangles. Holding Molly’s hands when they reached the first one, Tessa bounced up and down and side to side, the woman’s hips swinging as the pair did some goofy things.

Goofy to his insides, as well.

Then Tessa moved to the other free rectangle, while Molly continued to jump in the one they’d just shared. To his surprise, Tessa did a test backflip, landing right on her feet. His daughter stopped to watch, eyes wide as she proceeded to execute a series of moves that would have made Marcos proud. She added twists and rolls and capoeira moves that became even more impressive when performed on the elastic surface. Within a minute or two a small crowd had formed in the viewing area, but Tessa was oblivious, the concentration on her face blocking out everything but Molly and what she was doing for the little girl.

In a flurry that reminded him of the last few moments of a fireworks display, when the operators let loose everything they had left at their disposal, Tessa went into a series of arcing jumps that moved closer and closer to the dividing line where Molly was standing, her little body bouncing in glee, her laughs echoing, as with one final leap that ended in a forward roll, Tessa stopped right at the edge of her canvas, facing his daughter.

Murmurs went up from those watching and someone whistled. Tessa glanced to the side, blinking in apparent shock. But she quickly recovered and, holding Molly’s hand, directed the girl to give a little bow along with her.

His chest swelled with pride. Hell, he loved that woman. If he could only get her to see how good they could be together. How good they were together.

They could be so much more.

Their romance from years past had been a whirlwind affair, seeming much like that blast of moves she’d just performed on the trampoline. This time around he had to respect her wishes to go slow, focusing on steady progress that didn’t scare her or make her want to bolt.

Only Clay had no idea how to do any of that.

Maybe he shouldn’t try to plan it. He could just take things one day at a time. One moment at a time, starting with getting through the festival… seeing if she was pregnant or if all of this was a false alarm. And if it was? Would he still want to move forward?

Tessa stepped onto the ladder, making sure Molly was the first one on the ground. She paused to shake the operator’s hand with a smile.

Oh, yes. He wanted to move forward.

The crowd dissipated, and when he joined Tessa he found her holding his daughter’s hand, her cheeks flushed with exertion and enthusiasm. The woman was gorgeous.

And he couldn’t help but lean forward and give her a quick kiss on the lips.

Her eyes registered shock but she didn’t pull away and his daughter seemed to take the move in stride, the way kids did, already talking about what to do next.

“I think I need to take a few minutes to rest, if that’s okay,” Tessa said.

“Are you okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

Molly nodded. “Me, too. Maybe we can get a corn dog or something.”

The rest of the evening went better than he could have planned and when he dropped her off at the brownstone where she lived, this time it was Tessa who leaned over and kissed his cheek. “See you at work tomorrow, handsome.”

His throat tightened as a wave of emotion swept over him. The old endearment had seemed to flow from her lips with almost no effort at all. He forced a smile that he hoped looked more casual than he felt and tweaked her nose. “See you.”

“Well, Mr. Phillips, I guess this is goodbye.”

The elderly patient sat in a wheelchair flanked by a nurse’s aide, Tessa and Clay as they waited for his daughter to bring the car around. He’d stuck by his decision not to undergo chemotherapy, saying that at his age he just wanted to enjoy the days he had left. Tessa couldn’t blame him, but all the same she wished there was something more that could be done.

Sometimes there wasn’t, and you just had to acknowledge that fact. It didn’t make it any easier to accept, and she couldn’t imagine a time when she wouldn’t feel that crushing blow when a patient’s cancer was discovered too late. But at least Mr. Phillips had lived a full life, unlike her mom. He was ready to go and would be surrounded by loving family members. His daughter had even convinced him to consider selling his house and moving back west with her.

“Thank you for being a straight shooter.” He held out his hand, and she shook it, giving it a gentle squeeze. This would probably be the last time she ever saw him. And that was hard.

Clay came forward and also shook his hand. “Make sure you continue doing the exercises they showed you. You want to maintain as much mobility as possible in that leg.”

She realized that somehow Clay had learned the art of compartmentalizing, dealing with the things he was able to fix and pushing aside those things he couldn’t.

Not a bad trait for her to learn, as well.

Like maybe putting their past mistakes in a compartment and leaving them there? Allowing what was here and now to be what she focused on?

Surely they’d both learned from what had happened. She knew she had. At least she hoped that was true.

Mr. Phillips’s daughter pulled up and Clay helped their patient move from the wheelchair into the front seat of the vehicle. Then the door closed, and he was waving goodbye through the glass of the window.

Goodbye, dear soul.

She closed her eyes for a second or two and felt a hand touch hers. Just enough for her to know it was Clay and that he was lending her support.

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him, noting the nurse’s aide had already taken the wheelchair back inside, leaving them alone on the sidewalk as the van pulled away.

He moved to stand in front of her. “I know you asked me not to put in a good word for you with Josiah Wesley. Would you reconsider that? He has several residents interested in applying for a fellowship, and I want to make sure you’re in a good position to get one of the spots.”

Don’t overreact, Tess. Stop and think for a second.

Before she could, Clay went on, “I know you can do it on your own, but most applicants are going to have a list of references. I’m simply asking to be one of yours.”

That made her blink. When he put it like that, it sounded much more reasonable. And she knew Dr. Wesley’s reputation well enough that she was sure he wouldn’t hand her a fellowship based solely on Clay’s word, friend or not. She’d done all the hard work in getting ready and making sure she was up to speed on the newest techniques. Clay was just acting as a reference. And he knew her better than almost anyone, despite their rocky past. He knew her character. And that’s what a reference was all about.

So she nodded. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” The relief on his face was almost comical, and it made her smile once again. “Am I that hard to get along with?”

“No. But you are that proud. And I don’t mind telling you I’m damned impressed by everything you’ve accomplished.”

“Thanks. I’m getting off in a few minutes. When does your shift end?”

“Same time, actually.” He hesitated. “Mom is watching Molly at my apartment today, though, or I’d ask you to come back for dinner.”

“My place is free.”

“I thought you had three other people living there.”

She laughed. “I do, but Caren has already left for her mission, remember? So that leaves two. And I think the only one off today is Sam. So if we tiptoe past his door, we might be able to sneak in unseen.”

His finger hooked around hers. “But what about all that noise you’ll be making.”

“Wow, that sure of yourself, are you?”

“No. That sure of you.”

Her brows went up. “Oh, now you’ve just throw down a gauntlet I can’t resist. I bet you tickets to the ball game of your choice that I’m as quiet as a church mouse.”

“You’re on, Tess. But just in case, I think you’d better turn the speakers on your MP3 player way up.”

Tessa fell back onto the bed, her breath heaving from her lungs, the strains of jazz still blaring in the room. She laid a hand on her bare stomach and stared up at the ceiling, trying to get her racing heart back under control. “Okay, so maybe the church mice were throwing a party today.”

Clay rolled onto his stomach and bracketed his arms on either side of her shoulders. “That must have been some party, with all that shouting they were doing.”

“God. You don’t think Sam heard anything, do you?”

“Does it matter if he did?”

She punched him in the chest. “Only if I want to be able to look him in the face again.”

“He didn’t see me come in. He’ll probably assume it was a show on TV.”

“Jazz punctuated by moments of moaning and crying. I see how that could become a whole new trend.”

Gripping her waist, he flipped back over, dragging her on top of him. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“I just did.”

“And did you like it?”

She slid up his body until she was perched on a certain part of him. “So much that I’m thinking about repeating the experience.”

“Hell, woman, you’re going to kill me.”

Only it didn’t feel as if she was killing him. In fact, if what was happening beneath her was any indication, she’d say that he was up to the challenge.

Forty minutes later, dressed back in her street clothes, she headed out to the kitchen to get them both a glass of wine. Stuck beneath a magnet on the door of the huge stainless-steel refrigerator was a note penned in a decidedly masculine hand.

Interesting choice in music. Headed to the hospital, so don’t bother sneaking him out.

She grabbed the note and scrunched her nose. Gads! And you can’t have wine, ninny. You still haven’t had your period.

Another little something she was going to have to deal with at some point.

Making her way back to her unit with one glass of wine and one bottle of water, she was slightly disappointed that Clay had also gotten dressed while she’d been getting their drinks. She set them on the scarf across her dresser and waved the note under his nose. “I blame this on you. You can’t get me all sexed up like that in front of people.”

He glanced at the words then wrapped his hands around her waist and reeled her in. “It was hardly in front of him. But if that’s the kind of thing you like…”

“Stop it. I’m already going to have a hard time not turning beet red the next time I see him.”

“I’d like to be there to see that.” He glanced at the drinks with a slight frown. “It’s been almost a week. And since we just had sex, I’m assuming you still haven’t seen any sign of activity.”

“Not that kind of activity, no.” She pulled away and sat on the bed. “My emotions are all mixed up about it right now.”

“So you’re still planning on keeping it?”

“That’s the plan.” But beyond that she had no idea what she was going to do.

He uncapped the water bottle and handed it to her then took a big sip of his wine before sitting down next to her. He slid his hand across her belly, sending a shiver through her. “I don’t mind telling you, I’m already starting to think of this as a reality.”

Pressing his hand against her, she linked fingers with him. “This isn’t at all what I’d planned on. But now that it might be a possibility… She shrugged. “A million things have been going through my head, like names and whether it might be a boy or a girl.”

“A girl.” He leaned over and kissed her temple. “One who has red hair and is as proud as her mama.”

“Or a boy, with a big heart like his daddy.”

Clay’s thumb rubbed across her stomach. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Everything in her tensed up. Please, don’t ask me to marry you, Clay. Not like this. Not for this reason.

She was being stupid. Of course he wasn’t going to do that. They didn’t even know for sure if she was pregnant. And he had a daughter of his own to think about.

“Okay, what is it?”

He didn’t look at her or get down on one knee, so a part of her relaxed.

“I know it’s still early and this could all be a false alarm, but I’ve been thinking. You don’t want any financial support, right?”

Her jaw tightened. “We’ve already been over this.”

“And I’m willing to respect that. But this baby will be mine as well, and I want to make sure he or she is provided for. What if I set up a college fund that would be used just by the child?”

Tessa’s heart turned to ice in her chest. “You mean pay for everything? Kind of like your parents did for me?”

She hadn’t meant the words to come out with the harsh edge they had, but there was no way she could call them back now. Not when all the walls she’d just let down started to go back up, block by block. She knew him well enough to know that he would just keep pushing, trying different angles in order to get his way. She wouldn’t accept his financial help, so he would just bypass her and give it to their child instead.

Was that what she wanted? For herself? For the baby?

As if sensing her thoughts, Clay pulled his hand from her stomach and stared straight ahead. Then he took a drink of his wine. Then another.

He stood to his feet and set the glass back on the dresser.

Just when she thought he was going to leave without saying another word, he turned to her. “If you think I’m just going to sit back and not participate in my child’s life, you’re wrong, Tessa. You can’t expect me to help Molly get an education someday and do nothing for this child.”

“But it’s different with Molly—”

“No. It’s not.” He sent her an angry glare. “Even if she lived with her mother on a full-time basis, I would still want to contribute—to have some say—in what happens to her. It’s the same for any child you and I might have. I would want to take care of him or her. How can you not see that?”

I want to take care of him or her.

At those words, all the anger from the past bubbled out of the compartment she’d built for it and tainted everything they’d shared over the past couple of weeks. His constant need to take care of her years ago—to give her things—had become a point of friction, rubbing at her until she was raw. Well, she could read the writing on the wall. He was about to start doing it all over again, and if she gave in on this point he would start pressing her to give in on other areas.

“That’s not your choice to make, though. I think I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and any child I might have.”

His face closed, turning to stone. “That might be true, but you can’t stop me from setting up a fund like the one I have for Molly. Neither can you stop the child from using it once he or she comes of legal age.”

Horror went through her. Would he actually go against her wishes like that?

“Don’t draw this line, Clay. Please.” All her hopes for making things work between them shriveled in an instant. Nothing had changed. Nothing.

“I’m not the one drawing the line. You are. And if you think I won’t step over it, you’re wrong. I just did.”

With that, Clay picked up his wallet from the nightstand and shoved it in his back pocket. Out came his car keys. And without another look in her direction he let himself out of the door and, very probably, out of her life.