Baby Blessed

by Debbie Macomber

  “Not that much. How’s Lesley?”

  Jordan wondered if she’d seen them together. “She’s fine.”

  The orchestra started to play and again Molly lowered her lashes. “David and I had better find our seats. It was nice to see you again.”

  His hands remained in his pockets and hardened into fists as he made another desperate effort not to behave like an idiot. “Nice to see you, too,” he murmured.

  “I hope you enjoy the play,” she added softly and turned away from him.

  He waited until his wife and Dr. Stern had disappeared from his line of vision before he returned to his seat. The play was exceptionally well performed, but it couldn’t hold Jordan’s attention. He doubted that anything could have.

  Somehow, through the course of the evening, he managed to say all the right things, comment on the play, even laugh at a joke Lesley made. At intermission he slipped away on the pretext of making a call, but in reality he stood in a corner and waited, hoping for another glimpse of Molly.

  He didn’t find her again in the crowded lobby. Disappointed, he went back to his seat. The strength of his feelings for her frightened him. The last time they were together they’d come within a heartbeat of making love. He wanted her, needed her, nestled against him in sleep. He wanted to watch her wake up and smile that dulcet smile of hers when she found him looking down at her. He wanted her to raise her arms to him and welcome him into her heart.

  How Jordan managed to sit through the remainder of the play, he didn’t know. A hundred times, possibly more, he considered seeking Molly out and insisting she leave with him, right then and there.

  He drove Lesley home, feeling guilty because he couldn’t get away from her fast enough. As always, she was warm and generous and understanding.

  Jordan had never viewed himself as an obstinate man, but he had no other way of accounting for the length of their separation. He should have approached her earlier. Now it might be too late; he might have lost her to another man. The thought flashed through his mind, torturing him with the unknown.

  There was only one way to find out.

  He’d ask.

  * * *

  Two days later, Jordan walked into Ian Houghton’s home office and shook hands with his father-in-law.

  “Please, sit down.” Ian gestured toward the high-back leather chair across from his desk. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?”

  Ian was always the gentleman, but Jordan knew the old man well enough to recognize the glee in his eyes. Ian had been waiting for this day.

  Jordan couldn’t see any reason not to cut to the chase. “I want Molly back. Is it too late?”

  “Too late?” Ian repeated. “I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Molly that, not me.”

  “I saw her Saturday night.”

  “She was with David?”

  Jordan nodded. He almost commented on how beautiful she’d looked, but knew if he did he’d be playing right into Ian’s hands. His father-in-law already had the advantage, and Jordan wasn’t willing to add to it.

  “Has she been seeing a lot of him?”

  Ian toyed with a gold pen. “Not to my knowledge, but my daughter doesn’t discuss these things with me.”

  Jordan was disappointed. He’d hoped Ian could tell him more about Molly’s relationship with the other man. If he was too late and she was in love with David, he’d have to make his peace with that. But if he stood a chance with her again, even a small one, he’d do everything he could to make their marriage work.

  “What about the baby?” Ian asked. “From what Molly said, you don’t want anything to do with the child.”

  Jordan didn’t respond. He didn’t have an answer to give the older man. He rubbed his face and relaxed against the leather cushion. “I don’t know.”

  Ian was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “Did you come here looking for advice?”

  “No,” Jordan said stiffly, then realized his pride hadn’t served him well thus far. “But if you want to offer me some, I’ll listen.”

  Ian raised his eyebrows and grinned. “I suggest you make up your mind about the baby before you approach Molly. What you’ve got here, son, is a package deal. Nothing on this earth will ever separate my daughter from her child. Not even you, and God knows she loves you.”

  That tidbit of information should have encouraged Jordan, but it didn’t.

  He stood, his thoughts more tangled and confused than ever. He desperately wanted Molly. Yet he couldn’t bear the thought of loving—and the risk of losing—another child.

  He left the office without a word to Ian and stepped outside. He walked past his car and kept on walking, block after block, mile after mile. Each step moved him forward, but did nothing to solve the dilemma of his heart.

  He needed Molly.

  But not the child.]

  Jordan knew the truth of what Ian had told him. Molly and the baby were a package deal.

  Jeffrey’s chubby happy face, smiling cheerfully at him, returned to haunt Jordan. The pain that cut through him with the memory was sharper than any physical agony he’d experienced. Physical pain he could handle, but not this unending emotional torment.

  All at once Jordan was tired. Overwhelmed. He felt as if nothing was real anymore. He continued to walk, but he moved in a haze from one block to the next with no real destination in mind. At least, he didn’t realize he’d set his course until he stepped off the curb and crossed the street. Molly’s duplex was three doors down.

  “Make up your mind about the baby before you approach Molly.” Ian’s words echoed in his heart as he walked up to her porch.

  He didn’t have anything to offer Molly, nothing he could say—only that he wanted her, needed her back in his life. Other than that, he was as lost now as he had been when he’d talked to Ian.

  He had to see her or go insane. Had to know if she still loved him. Had to know if there was any chance they could mend the rift between them.

  He didn’t remember ringing the doorbell, but he must have, because the next thing he knew Molly was standing directly in front of him. The screen door was all that separated them.

  “Jordan, what are you doing here?”

  She was shocked to see him and it showed in her eyes. She was dressed in jeans and a loose-fitting shirt. His gaze fell to her waist and he saw that the snap of the jeans was undone to make room for the baby.

  The baby.

  “Come in,” she said, holding open the door for him.

  “Are you alone?” he asked, psychologically distancing himself from her because of the power she wielded. One look, one word, could devastate him.

  Molly’s eyes widened. “Yes.”

  He entered the duplex and closed the door. He studied her, wondering what he could possibly say that would make a difference.

  “Why are you here?” she asked a second time.

  “Are you in love with him?” Jordan blurted out.

  “With David? No, not that it’s any of your business.”

  His heart raced and he briefly closed his eyes.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?” she asked, but he couldn’t explain.

  “Jordan,” she whispered, her face revealing her confusion.

  For hours he’d been numb, walking, thinking, lost in a maze of impossible emotions. Now Molly was standing within touching distance and he could feel again.

  His eyes held hers. “I’m sorry, Molly,” he said. “So sorry.” The words barely made it past the lump in his throat. There was more he wanted to say, needed to say, but couldn’t.

  He watched the tears fill her eyes and her bottom lip start to tremble.

  Jordan wasn’t sure who moved first, him or her. It didn’t matter. Within a single heartbeat they were in each other’s arms. He felt the tears that coursed unheeded down her face, then wondered if they were his.

  With a deep-seated groan, Jordan kissed her.

  The kiss was like fire, a spontaneous combustion. He
wanted it never to end, but by some miracle he found the strength to tear his mouth from hers. His chest was heaving; hers was, too. Her hands clutched his shirt and she stared up at him.

  “Tell me to leave, Molly. Order me out of here, otherwise I won’t be able to keep from touching you. I need you too much.”

  He watched her carefully, knowing the impossibility of what he was asking, praying she wanted him as urgently as he wanted her.

  Gradually a smile formed, starting at the corners of her mouth and working its way to her eyes.

  “Are you going to make love to me?” she asked.

  He closed his eyes and groaned. “Yes. Yes.”

  “What about Lesley?”

  He was tugging the shirt over her head, fingers shaking in his need to hurry. “I broke it off six weeks ago.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes.” He tossed the shirt aside. Next his hands were at the zipper of her jeans. She laughed softly and kissed him, using her tongue in ways that caused his knees to buckle.

  “What took you so long to come back to me?” she whispered, as he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom.

  Nine

  Jordan woke some time later, with Molly asleep in his arms. He moved onto his side so he could study her, but he kept her within the circle of his arms, unwilling to be separated from her.

  Never again would he try to convince himself that he could live without her. He knew it was a hopeless endeavor, one at which he was destined to fail.

  He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek and noted the track her tears had taken.

  Unable to stop himself, he leaned forward and ever so lightly kissed her temple. She stirred, smiling, before she reluctantly opened her eyes.

  The smile was what did it, that sexy, womanly smile of hers. He kissed her.

  “Mmm, that feels good,” she whispered, slipping her arms around his neck.

  He gathered her close, cradling her in his arms. “You were crying,” he said close to her ear, not understanding her tears. Then again, he did. He experienced a deep gratitude for this second chance and he could tell that she felt the same thing.

  “I …never thought we’d make love again,” she said, brushing the hair away from his face. Her hands trembled.

  Like Molly, Jordan was caught in the force of an emotional upheaval. His arms circled her waist and they clung to each other.

  He could account for every minute they’d spent apart in the past few years. He didn’t know what it meant to waste an afternoon, or even an hour. He’d driven himself and his employees hard, ignoring the emotional and physical cost. Anything that would allow him to escape the crippling sense of loss that overwhelmed him.…

  He needed this marriage. Needed Molly and the healing touch of her love. Her touch, her kiss, her generosity, had given him a fresh breath of life. A taste of what their marriage had once been.

  Jordan wanted it back. All of it.

  He could think of no way to tell her this, so he kissed her. She made a soft, womanly sound that was half whimper, half moan as he reached for her.…

  * * *

  When Jordan woke again, the room was pitch-dark. He felt utterly content, satisfied. After three long, love-starved years, they had a lot to make up for.

  Jordan eased himself out of Molly’s arms, intent on finding himself something to eat. Some cheese, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, anything.

  “Jordan?” Molly’s whisper followed him to the bedroom doorway.

  His heart nearly broke at the dread he heard in her voice, as if she was afraid he was leaving her, sneaking away while she slept. Nothing could be further from his mind.

  “I’m hungry.”

  He heard her soft laugh. “No wonder.” The bed creaked as she climbed off, reached for something to cover herself and joined him. Jordan had felt no compulsion to dress and stalked naked into the kitchen. It was dim, the moon the only source of light, but when he opened the refrigerator the glow filled the room.

  Jordan noticed that Molly had chosen to wear a long T-shirt that hung to her thighs. She looked very much as though she’d spent the past four hours in bed, her eyes hazy with satisfaction, her smile seductive and wanton.

  “What are you looking at?” she muttered.

  “You.”

  “I … I’m a mess.”

  “No,” he said. “I was just trying to decide if I had enough stamina to make love to you again, right here in the kitchen.”

  Her smile widened, and she blushed prettily. “It wouldn’t be the first time we did it in a kitchen.”

  Jordan remembered the early days of their marriage when they’d made love in every room of the house, and he grinned broadly.

  “Let’s eat,” she said. “I’m hungry, too.”

  “There’s nothing here,” Jordan complained, glancing at the refrigerator’s contents.

  “I’ve been so tired lately that it’s easier to open a can, or pop something in the microwave.” She lifted one shoulder. “I was planning to get some groceries tomorrow.”

  Jordan knew Molly had a grueling schedule at the hospital and he wanted to ask her to quit, but had no right to do that. Soon, once they’d settled everything, he’d persuade her to work part-time, preferably on a volunteer basis. He was a wealthy man and there was no reason for her to put in such long hours.

  He searched the cupboard next and found a can of peaches.

  “I’ll scramble us some eggs,” Molly offered.

  “Nice idea, but I didn’t see any eggs,” Jordan said as he ran the peaches under the can opener. He tossed the lid in the garbage, dug into the can with his fingers and produced a slice of peach that he fed her.

  He fed himself the next slice.

  “Jordan,” Molly said excitedly. “Feel!” She grabbed his free hand and pressed it against her stomach. “The baby just kicked.”

  Jordan felt as though she’d thrown ice water in his face. The shock of it rippled over him, and his breath froze in his lungs.

  The baby.

  For these few idyllic hours he’d managed to push his awareness of this child from his mind.

  “Here’s your daddy,” Molly was chirping softly, unaware of Jordan’s downward spiral of emotion. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer. He wanted to jerk his hand away, but she held it flat against her abdomen.

  “Molly.”

  “Did you feel the baby?” she asked, looking up at him expectantly. The joy disappeared from her eyes the second they connected with his.

  She released his hand and without another word, she turned and marched down the hall.

  “Molly,” Jordan pleaded, following her, although he didn’t know what he’d say if she did decide to listen to him.

  She gathered his clothes from the floor, wadded them tightly and thrust them into his arms.

  “I’d like to talk about this,” he said calmly.

  “Go ahead.”

  “I’m afraid, Molly.”

  “Do you think I’m not?”

  “It’s different for you. The baby’s a part of you. It’s not the same for a man.”

  “A lot of things are different for a man, aren’t they?”

  Jordan didn’t have an answer for that. He didn’t want to argue with her, didn’t want this beautiful time to end with them hurling ugly words at each other.

  “I’m trying, Molly. Give me credit for that.”

  She, too, must have felt the need to preserve what they’d shared. Their peace was fragile and easily destroyed; Molly was as aware of that as he was and seemed equally reluctant to ruin it with another argument.

  “Be angry with me in the morning,” he said. “Hate me then, if you must, but for now let me hold you and love you.” He dropped his clothes on the floor and stepped toward her. He was afraid to reach for her, convinced she’d push him away. When he clasped her in his arms, she held herself still, arms hanging lifelessly at her sides. But gradually he felt the tension ease from her body.r />
  “Wait until morning to be angry,” he urged softly.

  Eventually they returned to the bed and lay together silently. She cuddled close to his side.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  Jordan glanced at the illuminated dial of his watch. “A little after midnight. You’d better get some sleep.” One of them should, he mused. For his own part, he didn’t want to waste a single minute on sleep.

  Molly covered them with a blanket. It looked for an instant as if she meant to roll away from him, but he brought her back to his side.

  “I have tonight,” he reminded her. “You can regret it in the morning if you want, but for the rest of the night let’s pretend it doesn’t matter.”

  Molly said nothing.

  “If you’re going to regret tonight,” he murmured, “let’s make it worth your while.”

  And then he slowly made love to her, over and over again.

  * * *

  Molly waited for Amanda Clayton outside a secondhand furniture shop early Saturday afternoon. Amanda parked her truck next to Molly’s car and they both opened their doors and got out simultaneously.

  When she stepped onto the sidewalk, Amanda’s eyes beamed with pleasure. “My goodness, you’re showing.”

  “You can tell?” Molly cradled her slightly enlarged abdomen, making the swelling more pronounced. She looked up at Amanda. “I’m nearly five months now.”

  “You look wonderful,” Amanda said, smiling. “I could be jealous. You’re obviously one of those women who positively glow when they’re pregnant. Not me. I went through the entire nine months looking like I needed a blood transfusion. If I had any color at all, it was a faint tinge of green.”

  Molly laughed.

  “How are you feeling?” Amanda asked.

  Molly shrugged. “I’ve felt better.” She hadn’t been sleeping well, but she couldn’t blame the baby for that. It’d been five days since she’d seen Jordan, and she had yet to decide how she felt about their interlude. She wanted to deny she’d enjoyed their lovemaking, but couldn’t.