Baby Blessed

by Debbie Macomber

  “I understand,” he said, and although he sounded disappointed he offered her a warm smile. “If you need to talk to someone, give me a call.” He pulled a prescription pad from his pocket, wrote out his home phone number, peeled off the sheet and handed it to her.

  “Promise me one thing,” he said, “don’t sit around alone and mope. I’ll be in all evening if you want to talk. If nothing else, I’ve got this great joke book and I can read it to you over the phone.”

  Impulsively Molly hugged him. She could use a friend just now.

  A few minutes later, she walked into her apartment and closed the door. The sun had broken through the afternoon clouds and the sky was a shimmering blue. Funny how bright everything was outside while she was living through a fierce emotional storm. The least it could do was drizzle. A downpour would have been more appropriate.

  The phone rang, and Molly swerved around to look at it. Perhaps it was fanciful thinking on her part, but she half hoped it was Jordan calling to tell her how the final divorce proceedings had gone. That wasn’t likely, however, and call display confirmed it.

  “Hello, Dad.”

  “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “You didn’t call me,” he said. “How did your talk with Jordan go yesterday?”

  “It went. He wasn’t too pleased, as you might imagine.”

  “Did he change his mind about the divorce?”

  “No.” Some small part of her had hoped he would, although she’d never have said as much to her father. In fact, she’d only now admitted it to herself.

  Ian’s talk had ignited a spark of hope, however futile, that her marriage could be saved. But Jordan was engaged to Lesley now. Naturally he wanted to sever his ties with her.

  “You told him about the baby, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he still went through with the divorce?” Ian’s voice revealed his shock. “I thought…” He hesitated, recovered quickly and when he spoke again he sounded calm. “How are you taking all this?”

  “I’m fine.” If it wasn’t for the baby, Molly would make a point of getting good and drunk, which would take, at most, one margarita. But despite everything, she was mildly surprised to discover it was true—she was going to be all right.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You mean this very minute?”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone at a time like this.”

  Molly smiled, loving him for his concern. “I’ve already turned down one invitation for dinner. I prefer my own company tonight. I was going to order myself a decadent pizza, soak in a hot bubble bath and be especially self-indulgent for the next few hours.”

  “I can come over, if you want.”

  “Dad, I’m a big girl. I’ll be fine.”

  It took her another five minutes to persuade him of that. When she hung up, Molly stood there for a few moments, attempting to connect with her feelings. The afternoon had been spent assuring everyone how well she was taking this divorce.

  Really, what else was there for her to do? Pound the walls? Weep with frustration? Wallowing in regrets and recriminations was draining. She’d spent the past eight hours on her feet and lacked the energy for a pity party, especially when it would be so sparsely attended.

  In the end, Molly changed into her most comfortable pair of shorts and propped her bare feet on the ottoman. She sat in front of the television and watched the evening news.

  The tears that crept silently from the corners of her eyes were unexpected and unwelcome. She reached for a tissue and wiped her face. Her emotions were unpredictable when she was pregnant, and this was an emotional day.

  She certainly wasn’t going to beat herself up over a few maverick tears. If she needed to cry about the divorce, then she should be able to do so.

  Apparently she needed to cry.

  “Oh, damn,” she said, angry with herself, and grabbed another tissue. It hurt, far more than she’d thought it would. Jordan was free to marry Lesley and live happily ever after with someone else.

  She closed her eyes. At least she wasn’t walking out of her marriage empty-handed. This pregnancy was Jordan’s final gift to her.

  Determined to ignore her need to weep, she called her favorite take-out place and ordered a deep-dish sausage pizza with extra cheese. She’d discovered she was ravenous. Crying took a lot of energy and if she needed to fuel those tears, what better way than with a Chicago pizza?

  Her doorbell chimed forty-five minutes later. Carrying a twenty-dollar bill, Molly opened the front door to find Jordan standing on the other side.

  His hands were deep in his pockets and he looked as if he wanted to be anyplace else. “You’re crying.”

  She mocked him with a smile. “I never understood why you wanted to be a builder when it’s obvious you would’ve made a great detective.”

  He ignored her sarcasm. “Are you going to invite me in or are you going to make me stand on your porch all evening?”

  She held open the screen door.

  He stared at the twenty-dollar bill in her hand. “What’s the money for?”

  “I thought you were the pizza delivery guy.”

  Jordan’s frown deepened. “Pizza gives you heart-burn.”

  Molly found it ironic that he could remember something like that, but not her birthday. “I take it there’s a reason you wanted to see me?”

  He nodded and walked over to the sofa. “What’s been going on in here?” he asked, gesturing at the discarded tissues. It did look as if she’d held a wake, and in a manner of speaking she had, but that wasn’t something she wanted to share with her husband.

  Ex-husband, she reminded herself.

  “I’ve got a cold,” she lied, grabbing the tissues, wadding them up into a clump and holding it with both hands.

  “Sit down,” he ordered.

  “Is there a reason I should?”

  “Yeah, I think we should discuss the…pregnancy.”

  “The word isn’t all that hard to say,” she muttered under her breath, just loudly enough for him to hear.

  A long uncomfortable moment passed before he spoke. “You’re making this very difficult.”

  She knew she was being unpleasant to him, but he’d interrupted her grieving. That didn’t seem fair. Especially now, when her pizza was about to be delivered.

  No sooner had that thought skipped through her mind than the doorbell chimed. This time it was her pizza.

  “Do you mind if I eat while you talk?” she asked. She couldn’t see any reason to let her pizza get cold.

  Jordan didn’t seem thrilled by her request, but he agreed with a nod of his head. Molly brought out a plate and dished herself up a piece. She was about to offer him one, when he spoke.

  “Do you plan on eating that all by yourself?”

  “That was my original intention. You’re welcome to some, if you’d like.”

  Apparently he did, because he got himself a plate and joined her on the living room floor. They sat cross-legged, with the pizza between them.

  “You were saying?” she prodded when he didn’t immediately resume their discussion.

  “I talked to Michael Rife this morning about the pregnancy.”

  “I bet that surprised good ol’ Mike.”

  “Mike, nothing,” Jordan muttered. “I wish you’d said something to me a little earlier.”

  “Come on, Jordan. You can’t tell me the possibility never crossed your mind.” Although she had to admit it hadn’t crossed hers… At the time, she hadn’t been rational, hadn’t thought about possible consequences. Hadn’t thought at all. She’d only felt, and those emotions had been desperate. Urgent. Compelling.

  He glared at her. “No, it never crossed my mind. I assumed you were on the pill.”

  Molly laughed. “Why would I be taking birth-control pills? I hadn’t slept with a man in years.”

  “All right, you’ve made your point.” He picked up a napkin, wiped
his hands clean and set his plate aside. “It was stupid of us both, and now we’re stuck with the consequences.”

  Molly set her own pizza aside, her appetite gone. Jordan spoke as if her pregnancy was something unpleasant, something that had to be dealt with. A problem. That irritated her. In fact, it infuriated her.

  “Michael’s arranging for child-support payments to be sent on a monthly basis.”

  “I don’t want anything from you, especially your money.”

  “That’s too bad, because it’s already been arranged.”

  “Fine.” She’d let his money accumulate interest in the bank.

  “You’ll need to tell me who your physician is, too.”

  “Why?”

  “I changed medical insurance a couple of years back and the physician has to be on their approved list.”

  “I went back to Doug Anderson. I always liked him despite what you said about his golf game. Besides, he spent a lot of time with me after Jeffrey died.”

  Jordan flinched at the mention of their son’s name, and her heart softened. The tears returned and she grabbed a paper napkin and held it to her mouth.

  Jordan reached out as though to comfort her, but stopped himself. Slowly he lowered his arms to his sides. “I’m sorry, Molly, more sorry than I can say.”

  “Just be quiet,” she sobbed. “You aren’t supposed to be nice to me.”

  He put his arms around her then, holding her against him, letting his body absorb her weeping. She knew she should break away, but couldn’t make herself do it.

  “I’ve hardly slept since you told me about the pregnancy,” he whispered.

  “You’re right.… I should’ve said something right away.”

  “I can’t go through this again, Molly. I’m sorry, but I just can’t. I’ll try to help you through the pregnancy, but I don’t ever want anything to do with the child.”

  His words hurt, and she jerked herself out of his arms. “Don’t worry, you’re free now,” she said bitterly. “You’ve taken care of your responsibilities. I’m sure Lesley’s been waiting for this day for a long time.” That was an incredibly mean thing to say, but she didn’t care.

  “What’s Lesley got to do with this?”

  “You’re free,” she said, dramatically throwing her arms in the air.

  “No, not really.”

  “What are you talking about? You went before the judge, didn’t you?”

  It took him far longer to answer than it should have. “As a matter of fact, I didn’t.”

  Seven

  “You mean to tell me we’re not divorced?” Molly cried, vaulting to her feet.

  “We aren’t divorced,” Jordan said as if he regretted his decision.

  “Why aren’t we?”

  “Because you’re pregnant,” Jordan returned forcefully.

  “So? You just finished saying you don’t want anything to do with the baby.”

  Jordan thrust his hands in his pockets, and his gaze avoided hers. “The pregnancy makes a difference. It’s reasonable to wait and refile the papers after the baby’s born. Another few months won’t matter one way or another, will it?”

  Molly didn’t answer him. She doubted Lesley would agree with him, but it wasn’t her place to point that out.

  An awkward silence fell between them. “How are you feeling?” Jordan eventually asked.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Morning sickness?”

  She shrugged. “A little.”

  “What about the afternoons?”

  So he remembered the afternoon bouts of nausea she’d suffered when she was pregnant with Jeffrey. “Some, but not as bad as it was…the first time.”

  He nodded and took his hands out of his pockets.

  Molly pushed the hair away from her face. The muggy heat felt stifling. It didn’t seem right for them to be sitting in her living room, discussing her pregnancy.

  “I don’t know how to act around you anymore,” she whispered. “You aren’t my husband, and yet we’re still married. I’d made my peace with the divorce and now we aren’t divorced. What exactly are we, Jordan?”

  The question seemed to cause some deliberation. “Couldn’t we be friends?” he finally asked.

  Molly didn’t know how to answer him. Friendship implied camaraderie and rapport, and she wasn’t sure they had that anymore. It also implied an ongoing relationship.

  “Remember how we told Michael this was going to be a friendly divorce?” Jordan prompted.

  “That’s the problem,” Molly said, laughing softly. “The divorce is friendlier than the marriage.”

  Jordan laughed, too, and it helped ease the tension between them. He sat down at the other end of the sofa.

  “A few months won’t make any difference,” he said again, almost as if he was speaking to himself. “Lesley won’t mind.”

  “You’re probably right,” Molly said, although if she were Lesley she’d have a lot more to say on the subject.

  “When will you be seeing Doug again?”

  “Late Monday afternoon.”

  “So soon?”

  “He wants to monitor this pregnancy closely because I’ve just come back from Africa.” That, plus the fact they’d lost Jeffrey, which was obvious.

  “I see,” Jordan commented. “Is his office still downtown?”

  Molly nodded.

  “That’s my project going up, two blocks over. I’ll be there on-site Monday afternoon. Why don’t you stop by afterward and let me know what the doctor has to say.”

  “All right,” Molly agreed, “I will.”

  * * *

  Jordan tried not to think about Molly all morning, but she kept turning up in his thoughts, plaguing him with memories of how good their lives together had once been. All that had changed with Jeffrey.

  He couldn’t think about his son and not experience anger. An anger so intense it bordered on rage. Over time Jordan had focused that anger in just about every direction. At first he blamed the medical profession, Jeffrey’s pediatrician, Molly and finally himself.

  If only he’d gone into Jeffrey’s bedroom that morning. Instead he’d left the house and damned Molly to the agony of finding their lifeless son.

  Jordan’s fists clenched as the fury surged through him. His breathing was heavy, and his heart felt like a rock pounding against his ribs. Within a few minutes the anger passed, the way it always did, and his tension eased away.

  Now Molly was pregnant again.

  Jordan had delayed the divorce, and even now he wasn’t sure why. Molly was right; the baby wasn’t going to change anything. Seven, eight months from now it would be born.

  It.

  He was more comfortable thinking of the baby as an it. Dealing with a tiny human being who cried and laughed and smiled when he recognized his daddy was beyond Jordan’s capabilities. He’d keep his distance, Jordan promised himself. He planned never to see this baby, never to hold it, never to love it. But for Molly’s sake and perhaps his own, he’d do what he considered best for now—wait until after the birth to pursue the divorce.

  Once the baby was born, Jordan fully intended to have the final papers processed. Then he’d marry Lesley.

  He felt better. His life was neatly arranged. He was in control again.

  He glanced at his watch and exhaled slowly. He was meeting Lesley briefly, returning some blueprints to her office. He wasn’t looking forward to this because he knew she was going to ask about the divorce.

  When he hadn’t been obsessed with thoughts of Molly, Jordan had been worrying about what he’d tell Lesley. The truth, of course. But he needed to couch it in a way that assured her of his commitment. Doing it now, however, felt wrong. He’d prefer to give it a few days and sort through his feelings.

  If luck was with him, Lesley would be busy and he could simply hand over the papers to her assistant. But as it happened, Lesley had stepped outside her office and was talking to a colleague when Jordan arrived. He was cursing his fate when she
looked up and beamed him a delectable smile.

  “Jordan, come and have a coffee with me.”

  “Sure.” For show he looked at his watch, hoping to give the impression that he had another appointment and could only manage a few minutes. He followed her into her office, his heart heavy. This could well be the most difficult conversation of his life.

  He liked the way Lesley had decorated her office with oak bookcases and an oak drafting table. One thing he could say about her, she had exquisite taste.

  “So,” she said, automatically pouring him a cup of coffee. “How did everything go in court yesterday?”

  He’d assumed there was no way to say it other than directly, but perhaps he should reconsider his tactic. He borrowed a trick from Molly instead. “You’d better sit down.”

  “Sit down?” She raised her eyes from the glass coffeepot until they connected with his. “Something’s wrong?” she asked and walked around to her side of the desk.

  “Not exactly wrong.” For all his advice about sitting, he found it necessary to stand himself. “I got a bit of a shock the other night.”

  “Oh?”

  He paused, then decided the only way to say it was straight out. “Molly’s pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” Lesley sounded as if she’d never heard the word before. “That must have been a surprise. Who’s the father?”

  “Ah…” He would have told her then if she’d given him the chance.

  “I imagine it’s that doctor friend of hers you mentioned. The one who was with her in east Africa?”

  He stiffened and met her gaze. “No. I am.”

  The mug in Lesley’s hand started to shake and coffee splashed over the sides until she managed to set it down on her desk. She sank into her chair.

  “I know this is a blow, Lesley, and I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”

  “You and Molly—I see.”

  Witnessing the pain in her eyes was almost more than Jordan could bear. “I don’t have any excuses. It happened while we were in Africa, while we were held down by the rebel gunfire. We hid in a supply shed and for a while I didn’t know if we were going to make it out alive.”