Because Of The Baby
“I made some herbal tea to take with us,” Anita said, “since I noticed you stopped drinking coffee last month.”
“Thanks, that sounds great.”
“Just let me get a wool sweater. It’s a bit nippy out today, isn’t it?”
When she returned from the bedroom, Melissa had retrieved the two insulated travel mugs from the kitchen counter. She handed one to Anita. “What’s Troy up to this morning?”
“Working for his brother at the hardware store. Didn’t I tell you?” She grabbed her backpack and keys from the dining-room table and they headed outside. “He started working there to pick up some extra cash.”
“Mmm. I don’t remember hearing about it.”
They passed Melissa’s car. They were going to shop at a little commercial area a mile or so away, and Melissa had suggested walking in order to get some exercise.
Anita shrugged as they reached the street and started off down the sidewalk. “I probably forgot to mention it. I’ve been…distracted lately.”
“Painting a lot?”
“No, it’s just…” She swallowed. How did you tell your younger sister, who’d never made a mistake in her life, that you’d gotten yourself knocked up? “Anyway, um, Troy had to leave before you got here. He said to say hello and he’ll see you on Sunday at Dad’s.”
Melissa glanced at her. “He’s going to be there?”
So far Troy hadn’t made a lot of appearances at the Lopez family dinners. Their old-fashioned father hadn’t quite accepted the man who was living in sin with her. She and Troy had decided to take it slowly instead of forcing the matter.
But now everything had changed.
“Melissa,” she began, “Troy and I have some news…” Damn it. Her voice sounded high-pitched and shaky, but she had to go on. “That’s why he’s coming to dinner on Sunday—so we can tell Dad together.”
“What kind of news? Do you mind telling me now or did you want to wait?”
“No, I don’t want to wait.”
Melissa watched her for a moment as they walked along the busy street. “So…?”
“So, it’s just that—well—I know you’re not going to like this,” she blurted, “but I’m—I’m going to have a baby.”
Silence met her announcement. She was afraid to meet her sister’s gaze, which was silly.
Anita flipped up the spout on her travel mug and took a long gulp of tea. She kept waiting for Melissa to say something in that composed, even voice of hers but the silence continued, stretching out between them. They crossed an intersection and walked half a block.
Finally she risked a glance.
Good Lord, she thought. Her sister’s face had gone pale. All the blood had drained out, giving her a deathly look. She was really upset. It was even worse than Anita had expected.
“Mel?” Anita asked.
Her sister cleared her throat. “Um, this is a surprise,” she said. Her voice sounded funny.
“I know, but it just happened.”
“It…wasn’t a planned pregnancy, you mean?”
“No, it wasn’t.” Anita heard the defensive edge in her voice, but she couldn’t help it. Cripes. She wished this didn’t have to be such a huge, awful, upsetting thing. She wanted it to be no big deal—if not a wonderful, joyous, exciting thing…
“And Troy is the father?” Melissa asked.
She crossed her arms. “Of course he is. I’m only a few weeks pregnant.”
“I’m sorry,” Melissa said. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I just wanted to be sure I understood.”
“Well, you can be sure.” She sounded petulant. Stupid to let herself get like this, she thought. Hadn’t she wanted to convince Melissa she could be a mature adult? “Look,” she said, sighing, “I didn’t mean to say it like that. But I’m positive Troy’s the father. I haven’t been with anyone else since early spring.”
“I see.” Melissa stared down at her insulated mug, still sealed shut. “How does he feel about it?”
“Very good, actually. He’s happy. So am I, for that matter.” And I wish you were, too, she thought. Jeez, Melissa, why can’t you just be happy for me?
“What are your plans?” Melissa asked.
“Well, I’m not having an abortion, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Are the two of you going to get married?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but later. I don’t want to have a hasty wedding just because I’m pregnant.”
Melissa didn’t reply. She took a sip of tea, her movements a bit too precise as she opened the spout and raised it to her lips. “Mmm,” she said. “This is good.”
“Thanks. It’s my own recipe. Helps with the morning sickness.”
“You—have morning sickness?”
“Yes. Doesn’t everyone? At least the first trimester, I mean?”
Melissa paused, her expression unreadable. “Actually, no.”
“Oh.” Anita shrugged. “Well, I’m one of the lucky ones, I guess.”
“They say it helps to eat several small meals. And to take your time getting out of bed in the morning.”
“Okay, I’ll try that. Someone also suggested those wrist bands for motion sickness.”
“I’ve heard that, too.”
Why on earth, Anita thought, were they talking about something as unimportant as morning sickness right now? Especially when Melissa still looked as if she’d been attacked by a bloodsucking vampire.
How inane.
“You know,” Melissa said, “if you and Troy got married, that might be the best thing for the baby.”
And it would certainly be easier on Dad.
Of course she didn’t say it, but Anita heard the unspoken message. Though he didn’t attend church every Sunday, their father was still very Catholic. His beliefs remained traditional. It had been bad enough when Anita announced she was moving in with her boyfriend. For her to have a baby out of wedlock…
She inhaled deeply. “Look, I know it’s going to be hard for everyone to adjust to this. But I’m not ready to get married. In the long run I think it will be better for everyone, including the baby, if its parents don’t rush into a premature commitment.”
She braced herself to hear Melissa’s excruciatingly logical, well-measured, intelligent concerns. To hear her point out how poorly timed—how very premature—this pregnancy was. And, after all, if she and Troy were going to keep the child, to accept this sudden change in their lives and raise their son or daughter together, then why not go ahead and marry?
Anita knew she couldn’t explain why she felt the way she did. She wasn’t even sure she wouldn’t be ready to marry Troy before the baby came. She just knew she didn’t want to do it right now.
And she wasn’t going to do it just because society said she should.
Surprisingly, though, Melissa didn’t say a thing. Her face was still bloodless and pinched—attesting to her ongoing freak-out—but she made no attempts to reason with her.
Anita frowned. She’d also expected Melissa to ask how she’d gotten pregnant in the first place.
She’d dreaded that moment, dreaded the censure she would see in her sister’s eyes, because she and Troy hadn’t used contraception that night.
They’d been careless. They’d run out of condoms and forgotten to buy a new box, and they’d foolishly decided to take the risk.
But Melissa didn’t ask about that, either. She seemed, in fact, to have shifted to a different plane of reality. Her eyes had a glazed quality Anita had never seen before and she walked like an automaton.
“Jeez,” Anita said. “Are you okay?”
Melissa blinked and slowly focused on her.
“Hello? Is my sister in there?”
“I’m fine. Sorry, Anita. I’m just…I’m just…”
“You don’t seem fine.”
“No, probably not,” Melissa murmured. “All right, it isn’t true. I’m not fine. It’s just so complicated.”
“I know it is. But you have to trust me to work it all out—on my own. I can handle it, Sis. Please believe me.”
“You don’t understand.” Melissa shook her head. She stared straight ahead and when they reached another intersection she groped for the crosswalk button without looking at it.
“What is it that I don’t understand?”
“It’s not just because you’re pregnant. It’s more than that. Oh, Anita. I’m pregnant, too.”
CHAPTER FOUR
KYLE WALKED OVER to Melissa’s house shortly after six. They were supposed to go out for dinner before heading to Whitney’s dance performance.
Friday night and it looked like a date—why hadn’t he and Melissa ever acknowledged how much they acted like a couple?
Because we had such a platonic friendship, he thought.
The boundaries had seemed so clear. But now everything had gotten blurry. Like when he took out his contacts and he couldn’t find the edges of things.
Melissa wasn’t just his best friend anymore. She was the woman with whom he was having a baby. For the rest of their lives they would have that between them. They would always be the parents of the son or daughter they’d created together.
Their child.
Kyle hadn’t seen Melissa since Wednesday. He didn’t know what to expect tonight. More business as usual? Or had they finally crossed the line?
Kyle climbed her front steps and knocked on the door. His pulse, he realized, had accelerated sharply. Damn. He was nervous. Like a teenager.
Melissa didn’t open the door. Nothing happened at all, in fact. Belatedly he noticed the house was dark, no lights shining out into the deepening dusk.
He stood on the porch about twenty seconds, oddly inert, not knowing what to do. Where the heck was she? He couldn’t believe she would blow him off.
Finally he tried the door handle. It turned. He pushed the door inward, calling out as he stepped inside. No answer.
He switched on the light in the entryway. Melissa’s handbag lay on the sideboard where she always tossed it when she got home. He stared at it. If she’d gone out she would have taken her handbag.
Fear unfurled inside him. “Melissa? You home?” Snapping to life, he rounded the corner to the living room with urgent steps. Someone could have broken in. Attacked her—
He lurched to a sudden halt. She sat on the couch in the darkened room, her spine straight, her hands folded neatly on her lap. “Melissa? Oh, God. Are you okay?”
In the light from the entryway he saw her blink. Her eyes seemed focused on the opposite wall. She didn’t make a sound, but a moment later she gave a small nod.
Once again Kyle couldn’t move. Relief hit his system like a chemical substance, overwhelming and intense.
He found his voice. “Jesus, Melissa, you scared the shit out of me. I thought you’d—I thought someone had—”
She still didn’t look at him. He took a few steps toward her. Silence filled the room and in that silence he became aware of the fast, shallow sound of her breath.
A moment later her body crumpled on the couch.
MELISSA WAS DIMLY AWARE of Kyle pulling her onto his lap. When had he sat down next to her? He stroked her hair back from her face and held her torso against his chest, rocking her.
Her fingers tingled. Some of them had gone numb. She tried to slow her breathing. She took deep, shuddering gulps of air.
“That’s right,” he soothed. “It’s okay.”
God, this was the kind of thing Anita would do. Or a patient. Not her. She was the doctor, who treated others. She wasn’t supposed to be the one with a problem.
Melissa gasped again, and suddenly she was crying. She sobbed against Kyle’s neck, her tears running down to dampen his collar. Her body shook violently, unattractively, and he hugged her close.
“It’s okay, Mel. I’m here for you.”
All the stress of the past few months worked its way to the surface. She couldn’t hide it anymore, couldn’t keep pushing it down.
Gradually her breathing evened out as she gave in to it. She hadn’t cried like this in a very long time. Even on the gut-wrenching night when they’d ended up making love…
“Oh, God,” she mumbled.
He pulled a tissue from the box on the end table and handed it to her.
She paused long enough to blow her nose, then more sobs overtook her.
Finally, a few minutes later, her body slowly stilled. She felt a sense of calm seep into her limbs. She accepted another tissue and blotted her face, her swollen eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said.
“Don’t be.” He held her against him, against his broad, solid chest.
Melissa realized she still sat on his lap. Curled up like a child. She shifted self-consciously, unused to being in such a vulnerable position. Not even as a child had she been held like this—at least, not since the accident. Her father had been too overcome with grief and despair, too busy resisting the urge to die, to have the energy. And Anita had been too distraught, as well. She’d needed Melissa to provide the comforting gestures their father couldn’t.
“What a mess I am,” she said.
Kyle didn’t release her. “Shhh. It doesn’t matter.” He kissed her forehead. “Tell me what happened.”
She swallowed. “I’m pregnant,” she said with a feeble little laugh.
“What else?”
“Maybe it’s hormonal.”
“Maybe,” he said. “What else happened?”
She inhaled deeply, let the air out in a sigh. Had she ever appreciated the simple ability to breathe before? Not like this. “Oh, Kyle. It’s my sister.”
“You told her about the baby?”
She nodded. “It’s crazy. She…I’m not the only one who’s pregnant.”
A few seconds passed. Kyle reached over and switched on a reading lamp. He cradled her against his other shoulder and they blinked at each other as their eyes adjusted.
He frowned in disbelief. “Are you serious? You mean—?”
“She’s due in June. I wasn’t going to tell her about my pregnancy, but then she told me about hers.”
“It knocked you off balance.” He traced the curve of her face.
“Way off. I couldn’t believe it.” Melissa closed her eyes. “Why now?”
“You’re worried about your father.”
“Of course. He’ll probably have a heart attack. The worst thing is, Anita doesn’t want to get married. She and Troy are staying together, but she says she’s not ready for anything more. That means he’ll have two unmarried, pregnant daughters at the same time.”
“You really think it’ll be too much for him?”
Melissa met his gaze again. “I love my dad, Kyle. But he’s fragile. When my mom and brother died…he fell apart.”
“Well, who wouldn’t? This isn’t quite the same thing, though.”
“I know, but it will still be a shock. He’s so old-fashioned.” She scooted off Kyle’s lap and stood. “I need to wash my face, okay?”
He followed her to the bathroom and leaned a shoulder against the door frame while she splashed water on her face. Her features were puffy, but the cold water helped. She patted her face with a soft white hand towel.
“I feel better,” she told him, straightening the towel on the rack. “Thank you for taking care of me. For being there.”
“Of course, Mel, we’re friends.” He took a step into the room and pulled her into his arms before she even had a thought of stopping him. He kissed her forehead again and moved his lips to her temple, inhaling. “Mmm.”
It happened so quickly. One moment she was recovering from an emotional episode, the next moment an acute physical awareness filled her whole body. Melissa started to pull away, but when she did his lips traced a path from her temple to her mouth. And they were kissing.
They hadn’t kissed since July. Now that seemed like only yesterday. This felt so natural, so easy.
So automatic.
The kiss wasn’t outrageous. No tongues, no frantic moans or angling of heads. Just a simple, hot meeting of lips. Spellbinding. Gentle and soft and sexy. Like a kiss between a longtime couple, familiar and intimate.
And then Kyle ended it and rested his forehead against hers. They both breathed more quickly now, but this time it was arousal.
“That didn’t feel like friends,” she managed to say.
“I know. I’m sorry.” He didn’t sound particularly regretful. His voice had a ragged quality. “Want to pretend it didn’t happen?”
“Oh, yes. Definitely.”
She stepped out of his arms. They walked to the kitchen and it was as if the interlude had never happened.
Her body still humming, she opened the refrigerator door. “Let’s skip the restaurant tonight, okay? I have some leftovers we can graze on.”
He nodded and they pulled out some food. They were acting like an old married couple in the kitchen.
Kyle poured them glasses of water and sat down at the kitchen table. “You still up for Whitney’s dance thing?”
She joined him with a collection of utensils and a couple more containers of food. “Actually, yes. I think it will be good for me. Would you mind driving, though?”
“Not at all.”
They ate in silence for a minute.
She said, “I know I told you I didn’t want to talk until Wednesday.” About their situation. The baby they had conceived. “But Anita’s pregnancy changes things. She and Troy plan to tell Dad at dinner on Sunday. I think we should, too. It wouldn’t be right to listen to their announcement and not make our own.”
“Are you sure?”
She shrugged and took a bite of pasta salad.
“Don’t you think they’ll have a lot of questions?” Kyle said. “About you and me, that is.”
“I already told Anita.” She watched his expression change. He looked almost tense. Normally he was so easygoing, she thought, so unconcerned. She was supposed to be the uptight one.
“Told her what exactly?”
“I told her we’d gotten together one night.”
He swallowed a bite of rotisserie chicken. “Oh? What did she say?”
“She was shocked. She asked if we were getting married. I said no, of course.”
“Mmm. So, what do you want to tell your dad?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know. Maybe I should say I don’t know who the father is.”
“Right.” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“I could say it’s someone I met at a medical conference. Someone from, say, Cleveland.”
“Any particular reason?”
She shrugged again.
“Melissa, it’s not going to work. We have to tell him I’m the father.”
“He’ll be mad at you. Madder than he’ll be at Troy, I’m sure.” At least Troy and Anita shared a household; at least they were a real couple.
“Fine. I’ll take the heat. I’d rather do that than hide behind an imaginary guy from Cleveland.”
“God…maybe we should get married. It would make this so much easier.”
“I’m sorry?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was just an idea.”
“A crazy one,” he said.
“Can you come up with something better?”
Kyle thought for a moment. “Maybe not. You’re sure we should tell him on Sunday?”
“Yes. I’ve already told Anita. She doesn’t want to have to keep the secret. Anyway, she’s afraid she’d accidentally spill the beans.”
“But finding out about you and Anita at once—”
“Will be even harder on Dad. A double whammy. Yes, I know.” She paused. Reached across the table for a gingersnap. “If we could tell him we were getting married, though…”
Kyle set down his silverware. He leaned forward and captured her gaze. “You keep saying that and I don’t know why. You’re not serious.”
He was right, Melissa thought. She couldn’t be serious. It was too outrageous. Too extreme.
And she didn’t miss the flicker of panic in his eyes. Marriage and Kyle? No, not since Felicity had that been a possibility, and it wouldn’t be for years to come.
Not too difficult to figure out that the suicide of a loved one was even harder to get over than a regular death. Not too difficult to figure out why Kyle kept his love life shallow and uncommitted.
And her own feelings about marriage? The subject was an uncomfortable one. She didn’t like to go there. She hadn’t expected it to be an issue. The two proposals she’d received in her life had not even remotely tempted her. She found it impossible to imagine herself as a wife, as part of a happy little picket-fence family.
But this wasn’t a normal situation, she thought. It felt unreal, as if they’d slipped into an alternative universe.
One in which marriage might be a strangely appropriate solution.
“Mel,” he persisted, “tell me you’re not serious.”
“I don’t know, Kyle. What if I were? What if we could have an old-fashioned marriage of convenience?”
“What in God’s name is that?”
“One that’s not based on romance. One based on other things. Like—”
“Convenience. Come on, Mel. That’s crazy.”
“Is it, though?” She frowned, trying to think it through. “We get along well. We want the same things in life. Oh, Kyle. Marriage could be the smartest way to handle our circumstances.”
“What you’re talking about is a shotgun wedding. The thing your sister refuses to have.”
“Fine,” Melissa said. “I’m not my sister, though.”
THEY DISCUSSED IT on the way to the dance performance. Kyle thought she’d lost her mind. And maybe she had. Maybe she’d damaged her brain cells when she’d hyperventilated. A week ago she would never have considered such a radical solution.
But she felt very calm. And very sane. And the more they talked about it the surer she became. Why not get married? Neither of them had looked forward to a regular marriage someday; this wouldn’t get in the way of a future relationship.
She realized, too, that matrimony seemed so much safer without the complication of romantic love. So much less disturbing.
The idea of having a child already disturbed her enough—more than she could ever acknowledge out loud. It scared her. The fear wasn’t rational. It was deep and instinctual. Sometimes she thought she’d simply seen too much at work and in her own family not to be aware of the risks of losing people. Of the potential for devastating pain. Despair that took away your ability to get through the day. Your will to live.
How many times had she had to tell people their child or spouse had died? Enough to know she didn’t want to be on the other end of that conversation.
And it never got any easier. Sometimes it even got harder—when one of her patients somehow got under her skin. Like last July.
And now, because of that day, she would be a parent after all. She would accept the risks because abortion and adoption were even less acceptable to her. And she might marry Kyle, too—if she could talk him into it.
“All right,” Kyle finally said. “Let’s sleep on it. Maybe you’ll come to your senses by morning.”
“Maybe not,” she said.
A minute later he pulled up outside their destination, a small, avant-garde theater in southeast Portland, and cut the engine. “This place is creepy looking,” he said, grinning. “Like it might not be good for a pregnant lady.”
“Oh, please. Don’t start coddling me.” She didn’t want him to treat her any differently because of her breakdown tonight. It had only been temporary. She was still a strong person. She didn’t need to be sheltered from every little thing.
“Right,” he said, and exited his blue Toyota.
But he circled the vehicle and helped her out. And all the way into the theater his hand rested between her shoulder blades. It could have been a simple, friendly, gentlemanly gesture. But it felt like more. It felt both protective and possessive.
They ran into Barbara Purcell in the lobby.
She stared at them for a long moment. “You two okay?”
“Sure,” Kyle said. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Something’s going on. Want to let me in on it?”
Melissa forced a smile. Oh, Barbara. You’d be stunned if we did. I’m still stunned. “It’s no big deal. We’ll tell you about it later, okay?”
As soon as we figure out what to do. What to say. Whether we’re going to be husband and wife.
And we’ve got to make the decision soon. Before we talk to my father on Sunday.
Kyle placed that possessive hand on her back again as the three of them went to find their seats. She was pretty sure Barbara noticed, though the other woman made no comment.
WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM? He couldn’t keep his hands off her, Kyle reflected as he pulled out of the theater parking lot after the performance. He told himself to cool it. He didn’t want them to do anything physical again. Yet tonight his body had ignored his brain’s commands. He’d even kissed her.