The Baby Album

by Roz Denny Fox

  “I can’t go,” she said now, bending to pick up the forms.

  “Why not? Do you have other plans?”

  “No, but, Wyatt, they’re your friends first. I like Brenda and enjoy your get-togethers, but I’ve never tried to horn in. I’ve never asked any of your group to include me. I hardly know Kim and Alec.” Casey got busy uploading the Mason photos.

  “If I asked, would you go with me to keep me from being odd man out?”

  Casey’s fingers stilled. “Do you really think that’s a good idea? You should know that people are already talking about us. The other day at lunch, Jana Mitchell referred to you and me as a couple, Wyatt.”

  “What?”

  “I told Brenda I’d come clean with you about being pregnant. Jana knew that you’d bought a car for me to drive, too. Through Roy, her blabbermouth brother-in-law.”

  “You didn’t tell them…”

  “No, of course not! I assured them that all we have is a working relationship.” Biting her bottom lip, she didn’t mention that Brenda and Jana had both said more than once how perfect it would be if she and Wyatt started dating.

  Wyatt tossed the invitation onto his desk. “Frankly, I wish the holidays would go away. Or that I could flip the calendar to January and just get on with next year. You can’t be too happy about spending Thanksgiving and Christmas alone, either. It’s a hard time to be by yourself.”

  “Yes, but if we jumped straight to January I’d be six weeks away from having my baby. I’m not anxious to rush that. For one thing, I haven’t found a labor coach. Classes at the clinic start right after Christmas and run for six weeks. I asked Brenda. She’d like to help me, but what with having three toddlers, and the holidays so close, I think she doesn’t have the time. While she didn’t refuse outright, she also hasn’t said yes.”

  “Labor coach? That’s where you do the panting-like-a-puppy breathing thing, right?”

  “So I hear. Sounds as if you know more specifics than I do.”

  “I listened to the guys talk about it—they’ve all gone through it with their wives. Some more than once.” A corner of Wyatt’s mouth curved in a grin. “Dave Mitchell fainted watching a birthing video. The guys never let him hear the end of it, until Lou Bailey told us that Wes had to run to the men’s room and puke his guts out, too.”

  “Shame on you, laughing at the expense of your poor friends.”

  “Hey, I figure they’re the lucky ones.” Wyatt’s smile disappeared. “They all got kids out of the deal,” he said quietly.

  “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t know how we got there from talking about Thanksgiving dinner.”

  “Getting back to that, will you go with me? I’ll drive to Round Rock to pick you up and take you home again. If you don’t feel like it, we don’t have to hang out after dinner. Generally the men head to the media room in Alec’s basement to watch football. A couple of neighbor girls are hired to play with the kids. The women stay upstairs to gossip. At least that’s what Angela said.”

  “You tempt me. I love turkey, dressing and pumpkin pie, and I didn’t want to shop for all the stuff. And…I’m not supposed to overeat. This way I wouldn’t have leftovers.”

  “So, is it a da—” Wyatt caught himself before he said the word date “—a deal?” he quickly amended. “If so, I’ll let Alec know.” Wyatt got to his feet. “The Cowboys are playing the Colts this afternoon. I may mosey on over to the Torres house and get myself invited to watch it on their big-screen TV. I ought to buy one myself. It’s the next best thing to being there.”

  “If you give me a few minutes to crop and mat Kim and Alec’s pictures, you can take them along so they won’t have to make an extra trip to the studio. Grab an order form, too.”

  “Will you be all right here by yourself?”

  Caught off guard, Casey glanced up from the photo she’d started cutting. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  Wyatt rotated a shoulder negligently. “Probably because you’re seven months pregnant.”

  “I’m fine. Pregnancy isn’t an illness, Wyatt.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry. Are those photos almost ready to go?”

  “I’ve got two more to mat. Look, I shouldn’t have snapped. I do appreciate having you watch my back, figuratively speaking.” She slid the full set of prints into a large studio envelope and passed it to him. “Other than Brenda, who’s busy with her family most of the time, I don’t have anyone else to count on in an emergency.”

  “What about your foster parents?”

  “They care, of course, but Dallas is too far away to get here quickly enough. And Len’s battling arthritis. Not that I expect they’ll need to,” she added, after noting the horrified look on Wyatt’s face. “Brenda thinks I should tell Dane’s parents,” she admitted, feigning interest in the wall behind Wyatt. “They do have a right to know—I just feel it’s Dane’s place to tell them.”

  Wyatt jiggled the envelope as if he’d grown uncomfortable with the turn of their conversation. “I guess I’ll take off for Alec’s. Once you’re finished with the Mason photos, go on home, why don’t you? I doubt anyone will call this close to the holidays.” In two strides he was at the back door. “The Torreses’ invitation said cocktails at five and dinner at six. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at, say, four-fifteen?”

  “Sure. I assume they’ll have juice or tea, not just cocktails.”

  “That’s right. No alcohol. You must have wanted to throttle me at the Granville party when I kept insisting you have champagne.”

  “I wanted to tell you the truth then, and felt guilty when I couldn’t work up the nerve.”

  “That’s all behind us, Casey.”

  “Some people at dinner tomorrow probably still don’t know. Will anyone be shocked?”

  “Most will take their cues from you. Relax, Casey. Just be yourself.” He offered a thin smile, then hurried out.

  Casey sat back down to work, but her mind drifted. She should have asked Wyatt if the dinner would be casual or dressy. She supposed she could always call Kim. She’d been saving the green satin outfit Brenda had given her for Christmas. She’d decided to wear it even if she spent the holiday alone. Dolly had invited her to Dallas. But the Howells’ sons and their families would be there. This year, Casey didn’t feel like sleeping on an airbed. Now she wondered if it might be appropriate to invite Wyatt to her house for dinner. She’d already bought him a gift—an initialed leather portfolio to carry samples and order forms when he visited clients.

  As she packed up to go home, she saw she still had time to stop by a maternity shop she passed almost every day. Secure in the knowledge that she had this job for as long as she needed it, she decided it would be okay to spend a little money on herself.

  THE SHOP CLERKS WERE friendly, and didn’t rush her even though it was the afternoon before a holiday. “You hardly show at all,” the tall redhead who put Casey in a dressing room said. “The red wool dress and the rust tunic both shout that you have a bun in the oven, if that’s what you want. I can also bring in a black satin pantsuit. Wear that and most people won’t have a clue you’re expecting.” The woman dashed out and came back with the outfit.

  The black satin jacket had faux diamond buttons down the front. Casey liked it, but it was outrageously expensive, and far too dressy to wear to work. “The red dress makes me feel huge,” she told the clerk, and after debating, she settled on the rust tunic and a pair of black velvet pants. Yes, she looked pregnant, but not like a pregnant elephant.

  “You made a good choice,” the cashier said as she took Casey’s money. “If you’re going to wear it tomorrow, it’ll keep you warm. You’ve probably heard we’re supposed to get snow.”

  “Snow?” Casey clutched her purse tighter. “When we had that terrible ice storm in October, I was taking pictures at a wedding. It was so awful trying to get home! I hate to think I’d have to do that again.”

  The clerk shrugged. “Maybe the weatherman got it
wrong. I came to work at one, though, and thought there was an added chill in the air.”

  Casey left, studying the sky as she hung her new purchase on a hook behind the driver’s seat. Maybe she shouldn’t have splurged on the outfit. If it snowed, Wyatt wouldn’t be eager to drive to and from Round Rock. And for sure he’d never risk repeating what had happened during the last storm.

  On and off throughout the evening, Casey listened to weather reports. Although, one forecaster mentioned possible snow for the holiday, none of the others did. She finally went to bed, wishing she’d bought food for a Thanksgiving dinner instead of a new outfit. At least it was something she could wear to photograph any of the December weddings she had scheduled. There were ten, if she recalled. Including one on Christmas Eve. When she’d booked it, she’d had doubts about how many guests would come, seeing how that was such a family time. But the bride said fifty guests had already confirmed.

  If Casey ever got married again…No, she wouldn’t think like that. She punched her pillow and shut off her bedside lamp.

  THE NEXT DAY, SHE anxiously followed the weather. It had turned colder before she went in to shower, but the sky remained clear.

  Wyatt arrived on the dot of four-fifteen. “Don’t you look beautiful,” he said the minute she opened the door.

  “Thank you.” Casey felt herself blush. Wyatt had a habit of checking her out in a way that sent heat straight through her. Nervously, she tucked a curl behind an ear, then tugged on one earlobe. She didn’t often wear earrings, but today she’d put in gold hoops, and added a gold ring with a topaz stone. A gift from Dolly Howell. “Come inside,” she said belatedly.

  “Are you…are you ready to go?” Wyatt asked, clearing his throat.

  “You bet. Oh, shoot. I forgot to buy a hostess gift.”

  “I have a bottle of wine in the car. It’s one Kim likes a lot—we can give it together if you want.”

  “I’d appreciate that. Let me grab my shawl and purse, and we can go.” She wasn’t gone long. When she returned she saw Wyatt had turned up his jacket collar and stuffed his hands in his pockets, ready to go out in the wind.

  “Where’s your coat?”

  “At the dry cleaners,” he said. “It was a mess after the night we got soaked. I took it in and forgot until today that I hadn’t picked it up. But Alec and Kim have plenty of parking near their house, so we won’t have to walk far tonight.”

  Relieved by that news, Casey let Wyatt tuck her into the passenger seat of his SUV. She had worried that perhaps they’d be the first ones there, and it would be awkward. But Tom and Gracie Swartz, Dave and Jana Mitchell, and Emily and Ian Endress had already arrived. A few kids were running around. Some couples, like Brenda and Greg, said they had grandparents to babysit. Only Emily and Ian hadn’t heard about Casey’s revelation and were plainly rocked a bit at seeing her so obviously pregnant.

  Emily hugged Casey. “I almost said something at the barbecue in September. I thought the outfit you had on looked like a pantsuit Brenda wore early in her pregnancy. Then I thought, silly me.” Lou and Wes Bailey blew in then, followed by Brenda and Greg. Any other questions Emily might have had for Casey got lost in the men’s running banter. Casey soon learned Greg and Wes were the cutups of the bunch of long-time friends.

  Casey had worried that she might feel out of place, but Wyatt didn’t allow it. He stayed by her side the whole time.

  It wasn’t until after dinner, when the women pitched in to help Kim clean up and the men trooped downstairs to watch football, that Casey was on her own. Brenda sidled up to her. “What gives with you and Wyatt?”

  “What do you mean? We’re the same as always.”

  Gracie and Jana hooted, and the others stopped carting off dirty dishes to listen. Brenda raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Please. It’s not a bad thing. Far from it, if you ask me. But wasn’t it only a few days ago that you insisted all you and Wyatt had was a work relationship?”

  “It’s true.”

  “Like heck. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice how many times Wyatt slipped his arm around your waist, or put a hand on your shoulder tonight?”

  Gracie nodded. “And he always noticed when your glass was empty. He went to the kitchen to get you more juice at least three times.”

  “He was being kind,” Casey said, growing defensive. “I was nervous about coming tonight, so he was trying to make me comfortable. I mean, all of you have been friends forever. Including Angela.”

  “Yes, and that’s why I was surprised to see Wyatt here tonight,” Lou said, with a quick glance over her shoulder toward the stairs.

  “It’s really significant that he brought you,” Emily murmured. “Last holiday season we all thought Wyatt might not survive losing Angela and the baby.”

  That statement sobered everyone, until Kim clapped her hands and sat them all down in the living room and began talking about Christmas plans.

  Twice, Wyatt came upstairs. “Are you still doing okay?” he asked Casey the second time. “I want you to come get me if you need to leave.”

  “Well, no one’s going anywhere before I serve the pie,” Kim announced. The conversation had moved on to pregnancy and labor stories, so Casey was grateful when Kim checked her watch and hopped up from the couch. “The game probably only has a few minutes left. Em, Jana, will you help me cut pies? Gracie and Lou, check with the guys and kids to see what kind they want, will you?”

  That left Brenda and Casey without chores. Casey stood, but Brenda gently pulled her back down. “I’ve put off telling you, Casey, but I don’t see how I can manage to be your birthing coach. The Christmas chores are piling up and I’m feeling swamped. Then tonight on the way here, Greg said he’d like us to have a holiday open house for all his clients.”

  “It’s okay, Brenda. I can phone my foster mom. Maybe she’ll be able to come, after all.”

  “No, listen, I had a brilliant idea. Ask Wyatt to be your coach.”

  “Are you out of your mind? There’s no way he’d agree to that!” Because the truth was, she’d mentioned needing a coach to him, and he hadn’t volunteered.

  “Don’t dismiss it so fast. We all saw how attentive he was to you tonight. He barely took his eyes off you. There was definitely…longing. Maybe it’d be good for him to see that not all pregnancies end in disaster. Ask him, Casey.”

  “I can’t,” she sputtered as the men and older kids clomped up the stairs, ending the heart-to-heart talk.

  After pie, Ian was the first to notice snowflakes falling outside the sliding glass door. Everyone crowded around, then began making excuses to leave, Casey and Wyatt among them.

  Flakes fell hard and were whipped around by a brisk wind that made them feel as if they were driving in a snow globe. “It’s sticking,” Wyatt muttered as they reached the on-ramp to the highway. Leaning forward, he wiped the fog off the inside of the windshield, then turned up the defrosters. He pointed out a line of traffic stopped on the highway leading to Round Rock. “There must be an accident up ahead. Casey, is something wrong? You haven’t said two words since we left the Torres’s house.”

  “I was better before the women started sharing their labor stories.” She didn’t mention the other thing that was on her mind—Brenda’s suggestion that he be her coach.

  “Why would they do that and scare you?”

  Casey shrugged listlessly. “Wyatt, why are you turning around?”

  “Don’t freak on me. I’m taking you to my house. Neither of us feels like sitting in traffic for hours. It’s not as if snow here lasts for days. It’ll be gone by morning. I give you my word—all I want is for us to get a good night’s sleep. It won’t be like last time.”

  Casey said nothing. She’d been shaken by the women’s tales. On top of that, she was deeply disappointed that Brenda couldn’t be her coach. Just now, she thought that repeating the night of the ice storm wouldn’t be so bad at all.

  Maybe it had been seeing the happy families this evening. The men helping
their wives on with coats, and other caring signs that left Casey longing for a partner. A man with strong arms to hold her through the snowy night. Or to chase away a very real fear of having this baby by herself.

  Wyatt. He would be a perfect partner, if only he could love her.

  Tonight she needed someone. But Wyatt was too honorable to break his word. Casey sighed and shut her eyes.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CASEY MADE UP HER MIND as they entered Wyatt’s house. Life was too short not to ask for what she wanted. “Wyatt,” she began, “I know you said we wouldn’t repeat history tonight. But…would you sleep with me? Just to hold me. The guest room’s fine if your bed holds…other memories. I’m feeling, I don’t know—blue.”

  Her request hung between them so long, Casey thought she’d put her foot in it. Big time put her foot in it.

  Finally, after the lengthy hesitation, Wyatt reached out and turned her toward him. “I’ve totally repainted the house and bought new furniture. There are no memories for you to worry about,” he said, taking her shawl as he ushered her down the hall to his bedroom.

  Once there, Casey felt funny. Wyatt’s bed, his room, loomed in front of her. She wished she could snatch back her bold words. What had she been thinking? Wyatt had probably given in because she’d sounded so…needy. She paused at the threshold. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”

  “It was a very good idea,” Wyatt said, his voice rough with emotion.

  She clutched the front of her new tunic. “If you’ll lend me your shirt again, I can change in the bathroom.” She pointed down the hall toward the guest bathroom she’d used last time.

  “Casey, I know what it’s like to be lonely and sad.” He held her gaze as he shed his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt. “We’ll just sleep,” he said.

  Grateful for the comfort he offered, she moved toward him. “I accept.”