Baby Blessed

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Baby Blessed Page 10

by Debbie Macomber


  “That’s your excuse?” she asked, and her voice quavered with indignation.

  “Lesley, I couldn’t be more sorry. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world.”

  “Funny that you’ve done such a good job of it.” She reached for her coffee in an effort to mask the tears that brimmed in her dark eyes.

  Jordan had never felt like more of a jerk. Without trying, he’d managed to offend the woman he cared about and wanted to marry.

  “You didn’t go through with the divorce, did you?”

  He shouldn’t be surprised by how well Lesley knew him. “No, not yet. I felt it was better to wait until the baby was born.”

  “I see.”

  “I don’t blame you for being upset,” Jordan said, leaning toward her, his hands clasped. “I wouldn’t blame you if you threw me out the door and said you never wanted to see me again, but I hope you won’t. My marriage is dead—”

  “Apparently not as dead as I once believed,” Lesley broke in, her voice trembling.

  “A baby isn’t going to solve the problems between Molly and me. If anything, this pregnancy complicates the issues.”

  “What about the child?” Lesley wanted to know. “How do you feel about…having a child?”

  His hands tightened until his fingers ached. “I never wanted another family. It was understood from the moment you and I discussed marriage that there wouldn’t be children. My feelings about that haven’t changed. Molly seems to have adjusted to the news without too much trouble, but I …frankly, I don’t ever plan on seeing the baby. Naturally I’ll support the child financially, but I refuse to have any emotional involvement.”

  Lesley’s lips quirked upward in a brief smile; at least, Jordan thought it was a smile. “Jordan, it would be impossible for you not to love this child.”

  His spine stiffened. Another Jeffrey? Never. “You can’t love what you don’t see,” he told her.

  “You already love this child. Otherwise you would’ve gone through with the divorce,” Lesley said. “A pregnancy wouldn’t have mattered if you honestly believed you could turn your back on the child.”

  “It was Molly I couldn’t walk away from,” he countered. As soon as the words escaped, he realized the profound truth of them, and how deeply they’d wounded Lesley. “She had a difficult pregnancy the first time,” he added quickly, wanting to undo the damage, knowing it was too late.

  Lesley stood and walked to the window, her back to him. He noticed how rigidly she stood, as if she were fighting back the pain. She crossed her arms. “You still love her.”

  “No,” he denied, then said, “Yes, I suppose I do.” He waited, hoping Lesley would turn around, but she didn’t. “Don’t condemn me for that. Molly was…is my wife. A man doesn’t forget his first love.”

  He saw Lesley’s hand move to her face and he realized she was wiping the tears away. It pained him to know he’d hurt her so deeply.

  “You might think this an asinine question, but would you be willing to wait for me to divorce Molly?” he asked. “It shouldn’t be more than a few months. Nothing has to change for us unless you want it to.” He’d been as honest with her as he could be, and he hoped she’d take that into consideration.

  “I ought to throw you out that door, just like you suggested.”

  “But you won’t,” he said, confident that she would have by now, if that had been her intention.

  “I …don’t know what I should do. Then again, it should be crystal clear,” she said with a laugh that sounded more like a sob. “I need time to think this through.”

  “All right. How long?” They were supposed to attend a cocktail party with a group of investors over the weekend. Important investors. Even if they didn’t arrive together, avoiding each other would be impossible.

  “I can’t give you an answer yet,” Lesley said. “But I promise to call you once I make up my mind.”

  * * *

  Molly stood in line at the hospital cafeteria, deciding between the egg-salad sandwich and the chicken salad, when David Stern cut in front of her.

  “Hello again,” he said, grinning as he slipped his orange plastic tray next to hers. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you.”

  Molly felt mildly guilty for not seeking him out, knowing that was what he’d expected. She liked David, but she didn’t want to mislead him into believing they could become involved.

  “Care to join me for lunch?” he asked.

  “I’d care a whole lot,” she joked.

  He paid the cashier for her sandwich and milk, plus his own much larger lunch, then wove his way between crowded tables to the patio outside.

  Molly followed him, grateful he’d chosen to eat outdoors. She set her tray down on the round glass table, under the sheltering shade of the blue-and-yellow umbrella.

  “What decadence did you fall into the other night?” David asked.

  “A sausage and extra-cheese pizza,” she said, opening the milk carton and pouring it into a glass.

  “That sounds pretty tame to me. Surely a divorce rated a double Scotch on the rocks.”

  “I can’t drink now,” she returned automatically. Her hands froze on the milk carton as she raised her eyes to David’s. She might as well tell him. Her pregnancy wasn’t a secret. “I’m pregnant.”

  David took the information in stride. “Does your ex know?”

  “Yes. It was a shock for us both, but he paid me back in spades.”

  “How’s that?” David asked as he dumped half the pepper shaker on his tuna salad.

  “He had his attorney withdraw the divorce petition. I drowned my sorrows in pizza, only to discover we’re still married.”

  “He wants to reconcile?”

  It wasn’t polite to laugh, but Molly couldn’t help it. “Nothing that drastic. He felt, for whatever reason, that we should wait until after the baby’s born. I don’t know how his fiancée is going to take this, but that’s his problem.”

  “He’s engaged?”

  Her life sounded like a soap opera. “From what I understand, she’s perfect for Jordan.” Molly raised her sandwich to her mouth. “As you can see, I’m not exactly a prime candidate for a relationship. I’d suggest counseling for any man who wanted to become involved with me.”

  David laughed. “You sound like you might need a friend.”

  That was the word Jordan had used, too. Why was it that every man in her life suddenly wanted to be her friend? She might as well get used to it. There was only one thing about which Molly was completely certain. She never intended to marry again.

  “You’re right,” she admitted, “I could use a friend.”

  “So could I,” David said, centering his attention on his lunch. “My wife died in the first part of January. We’d been married for fifteen years.”

  “David, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

  “She’d been sick with cancer for several years. In the end death was a blessing. We both had plenty of time to adjust to the inevitable.”

  “Can you ever prepare yourself for the death of a loved one?” Molly asked. As a nurse, she’d seen death countless times. She’d watched some patients struggle and hold on to life. Yet others slipped gracefully from one life into the next.

  “I thought I was prepared,” David said quietly, “but I wasn’t. Certainly I didn’t want Karen to suffer any longer. What surprised me was the desperate loneliness I experienced afterward. That lack of connection with one other human being.” He stopped eating and reached for his glass of iced tea.

  David had walked through the same valley she had, where death cast its desolate shadow. That was what had attracted her to him and why she’d felt an instant kinship.

  “It’s taken me months to come to terms with Karen’s death. I’m not expecting to get involved in another relationship, if that concerns you. All I want is a little companionship, and it seems to me we’re really after the same thing. Maybe we could help each other.”

  Molly’s eyes met his. “Maybe w
e could.”

  * * *

  Jordan’s pickup was parked outside the house when Molly pulled in behind it. It might have been better if she’d phoned, but she’d agreed to see him following her appointment with Doug Anderson. Only it was much later than she’d told him.

  It felt strange to ring the doorbell at the home that had once been hers, then stand outside and wait for Jordan to answer. She wished now that she’d phoned. She couldn’t be friends with Jordan. Cordial, yes, but their pain-filled history precluded friendship. She appreciated his concern, but it would probably be best if they kept their distance.

  When he answered the door, Jordan’s eyes revealed his surprise at seeing her. The first thing Molly thought was that Lesley was with him and her unannounced arrival would embarrass them all.

  “Have I come at an inconvenient time?” she asked. “Because I can leave.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Jordan said. He must have recently gotten home himself because he was still dressed in his work clothes—khaki pants and a short-sleeved shirt.

  “I can leave if…someone’s with you.”

  “I’m alone,” he said, drawing her into the house. “What happened? When you didn’t show, I contacted Doug’s office and got his answering service.”

  “He was called into the hospital for a delivery. I had to reschedule my appointment. I tried to reach you, but you’ve got a different cell number now.”

  “That’s right. Here, let me give it to you.”

  “No,” she said, holding up one hand. “It isn’t necessary.” Having his cell number seemed too intimate, too familiar.

  Jordan looked surprised by her refusal. “You might need it.”

  “I … I can always contact your office. They should be able to reach you, shouldn’t they?”

  He shrugged as if it made no difference to him one way or the other. But it did, and she could tell that her refusal had offended him.

  “How are you?” he asked, after a short delay.

  He wasn’t comfortable asking about the baby, she realized, but his question implied his concern. “Perfectly healthy. The morning sickness isn’t nearly as severe this time.”

  He didn’t respond, but opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of ice water. Without asking, he poured her a glass.

  “I thought I’d stop by and explain why I didn’t call you earlier,” Molly said, positioning herself so that the breakfast counter stood between them. “I …won’t stay.”

  “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

  Her stomach rolled and pitched, and she suddenly felt ill. “Would it be all right if I sat down for a minute?”

  “Of course.” Something in her voice must have told him how sick she was feeling, because he took her by the elbow and guided her into the family room.

  Sitting helped slightly, and she took in several deep breaths. Unfortunately it wasn’t enough. She shot up and raced for the bathroom and promptly lost her lunch.

  When she finished, Jordan was there with a wet washcloth.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered, feeling weak and close to tears.

  “You don’t need to apologize,” Jordan told her, gently guiding her back to the upholstered chair. He brought her a glass of water and she drank thirstily. Jordan stayed by her side.

  Resting her head against the back of the chair, Molly closed her eyes. “I’ll be all right in a minute,” she said.

  “Relax,” Jordan told her.

  Molly felt him place a thin blanket over her. Her mind was drifting into a lazy slumber. She tried to tell herself it wasn’t a good idea to fall asleep while she was at Jordan’s house, but that demanded far more effort than she could muster.…

  * * *

  Jordan sat across from Molly, watching her while she napped. His heart ached as he studied her, hoping she could rest.

  The awkwardness between them troubled him. He knew he was to blame and that Molly was protecting herself from any further heartache.

  He’d acted like an idiot about the pregnancy. Over the past week he’d made several attempts to reconcile himself to the fact he was going to be a father again. It hadn’t worked. His instincts told him to run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

  He admired Molly’s courage and wished he could be different. He wished he could feel the elation he’d experienced when they’d first learned she was pregnant with Jeffrey. But that wasn’t possible. Not anymore.

  From the moment Molly told him she was going to have another child, all he’d known was fear. It clung to his every thought, dictated his actions and taunted him with the feeling that nothing in his life would ever be right again.

  He longed to give Molly the emotional support she needed and deserved through this pregnancy. But he didn’t know if he could. This child, innocent and fragile, left him weak with anxiety.

  A strand of blond hair fell across her pale skin. Jordan yearned to tuck it behind her ear, to hold her in his arms. He didn’t examine his feelings too closely because if he did he might remember their night together in Africa.…

  It’d been like that in the beginning, when they were first married. Their need for each other had been insatiable, and their happiness had brimmed over into every aspect of their lives.

  He needed to move away from Molly, Jordan decided, otherwise he’d become trapped in the maze of happy memories.

  Making dinner seemed the solution, so he went into the kitchen and brought out a package of steaks. His culinary skill was limited, but he could barbecue a decent steak. Salads weren’t that difficult, either. He took the lettuce from the refrigerator, plus a tomato and a green pepper. He chopped the vegetables, feeling especially creative. Every now and again, his gaze involuntarily drifted to Molly.

  He must have been glancing at her more frequently than he realized, because the knife sliced the end of his index finger. A rush of bright red blood followed.

  “Damn,” he muttered at the unexpected pain. The cut was deep and bled freely. Turning on the faucet, he held his finger beneath the running water.

  “What happened?” a groggy Molly asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “You cut yourself.” She was standing next to him. “Let me see.”

  He jerked his hand away from her. “I told you it’s nothing.”

  “Then let me take a look at it,” she insisted. She turned off the water and held his wrist, then wrapped his hand in a clean kitchen towel.

  “It’s not that bad,” Jordan said, feeling foolish. It was his own fault for being careless.

  “You’ll live,” she agreed. “I’ll put a bandage on it and you’ll be good as new within a week.” She opened the cupboard by the kitchen sink and removed the bandages, carefully wrapping his index finger in gauze and tape. When she’d finished, she kissed the back of his hand.

  The kiss, simple as it was, rippled through him. Unprepared for the impact of her touch, he drew in his breath sharply. Somewhere in the farthest reaches of his mind, the pleasure took hold of him and refused to let go. It had been like this in Africa when she’d put her arms around his neck and her breath came hot against his throat.

  When he dared, he lowered his eyes to Molly’s and found that she was staring at him. Hers were a reflection of his own, filled with doubt and wonder.

  Neither of them moved, neither breathed. He needed to kiss her. Not wanted. Needed. He couldn’t think about this feeling, couldn’t analyze it, knowing that if he did he’d lose courage.

  He reached for her and she came into his arms. She parted her lips to him and trembled as her body adjusted to his.

  He kissed her again. What had started out gentle and exploratory had become a frenzy of need.

  “Jordan?” She whispered his name, breathless and needy. The only time she said it in just that way was when she wanted to make love. It hadn’t been so long ago that he’d forgotten.

  He moved his hands to her hips and held himself against her, letting her feel the strength of his need. S
he moaned and met his kiss with a desperation and insistence that was as powerful as his.

  Where he found the strength to break away, Jordan didn’t know. “Not in the kitchen,” he muttered. He lifted her in his arms and carried her into the family room and placed her on the sofa. His breath was thin and his heart pounded wildly. They were crazy, the pair of them together like this, but he didn’t care.

  “I want you,” he said.

  “I know.” The words were slow. “I want you, too.”

  Her arms circled his neck and he felt the wetness of her tears. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, and couldn’t. Instead he kissed her again, gently, lovingly.

  “I love you,” Jordan whispered. “I never stopped.”

  “What about the baby?”

  His world crashed at his feet and shattered. “I don’t know… I just don’t know.”

  The phone rang then, ending the moment, tearing them apart.

  “Ignore it,” Jordan said.

  “No.” She shook her head. “It might be important.”

  Nothing was more important than having her in his arms, but the phone rang again. “Answer it,” she said urgently. Against his better judgment, he moved away from Molly and grabbed the receiver.

  “Hello,” he barked, irritated at the intrusion.

  “Jordan.” It was Lesley.

  Jordan closed his eyes.

  “Jordan, are you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is something wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”

  Eight

  “Lesley,” Jordan said. Out of his peripheral vision he caught a glimpse of Molly leaping off the sofa. Quickly she righted her clothes, her movements filled with righteous indignation.

  “I thought you’d want to know,” Lesley said when he didn’t continue.

  “Know?”

  “What I’ve decided.”

  “Yes, of course.” Jordan cupped his hand over the mouthpiece. “Molly, wait,” he pleaded. They needed to talk, needed to discuss what had happened.

  Molly hesitated.

  “Molly’s there now?” Lesley asked.

  “Yes. Listen, could we talk later?”

 

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