From Here To Maternity: A Second ChancePromoted to MomOn Angel's Wings

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  Carol’s husband was an electrical engineer. Joan’s was the chief financial officer for a medical foundation in Oklahoma City. Both women were comfortable letting their husbands provide. I wasn’t that type of woman. I needed to contribute. Even if Braden and I had gotten married and had children, I would have wanted to work.

  Joan and Collin’s four-year-old daughter, Darcy, came running into the hallway straight for Braden and wrapped her little arms around his knees.

  “Uncle Bwaden! Uncle Bwaden! Come eat turkey.”

  Scooping her up, Braden set her atop his shoulders. As she smiled shyly at me, he looked up at her. “Are you going to eat turkey?”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “And mashed potatoes and gwavy.”

  His niece was looking down at him with such an adoring gaze, my throat ached. Braden would be like this with his own children—warm and accepting.

  “Come on then. Let’s go get some turkey while it’s still hot.” Glancing over at me, he captured my hand. “You’re okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I assured him. I couldn’t be upset that his family resented me because I had hurt one of their own. That meant they cared. If I stayed in Galloway, our child would have an extended family to care about him or her.

  My hand in Braden’s as we walked into the dining room felt right and I held on to that thought for now.

  At dinner, Braden included me in conversations and asked my opinion. He wouldn’t let anyone at the table ignore me. Melissa had managed to sit on my other side and she smiled at me often, telling me about her activities at school.

  Braden’s nephew, Danny, who was about two, sat in a high chair and took most of Joan’s attention. I noticed she’d hardly touched anything on her plate and realized that this was what it meant to be a mother—not only hugs and kisses and prayers at bedtime, but putting someone else first twenty-four hours a day.

  Putting a child first.

  What decisions would be best for this child?

  Braden must have seen my attention riveted on his nephew, and on his sweet little chubby cheeks as he stuffed mashed potatoes into his mouth with one of his thumbs. I wanted to hold him and play patty-cake with him. Maybe I’d get the chance later.

  Leaning close to me, Braden murmured, “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

  His lips almost teased my earlobe and a deliciously warm sensation skipped up my spine.

  “That’s a tough choice,” I responded. “How about you?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  As I turned, his lips did brush my cheek, and I saw in his eyes that he just wanted a family. He didn’t really care if I had a boy or a girl.

  When Braden leaned away, I missed his warmth. I missed the possibility that his lips might cover mine. His knee grazed mine under the table, and I didn’t think that was an accident.

  However, when I looked up and saw his mother watching us, I wondered what she was thinking…and then I wondered if I even wanted to know.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AS MANY TOPICS rolled around the dinner table, I caught Braden’s mother glancing my way often. Although I knew speaking to her might be awkward, I had to do it. I just wasn’t exactly sure what I was going to say.

  Throughout the meal Braden was protective of me. He joined in on some of my conversation with Melissa, smiling when we seemed to speak the same language. I could see he liked the idea that his niece and I were getting along so well. His arm brushed mine often and so did his knee when he leaned toward me so I could hear better what he had to say. His cologne spun my head and his low, deep voice had butterflies fluttering in my stomach.

  Had I ever fallen out of love with him? Was I falling deeper now? What was he feeling? Could we ever forgive each other for breaking up?

  Braden’s father, an older version of his son, broke into my reflections. “I was talking to Wayne Rumson yesterday. We ran into each other while I stopped at the grocery store to pick up a few things for your mother.”

  Shannon explained to me, “Wayne Rumson’s the mayor of Galloway,” as if I lived on another planet.

  Diplomatically, I just nodded. Although I didn’t often have time to read the newspaper, I did see the mayor’s name mentioned now and then.

  “Was he razzing you about my decision to give up my council seat?” Collin asked.

  “No. He said he understood time constraints for a family man.” After Braden’s father put down his fork, he turned his gaze on Braden. “I think you’re going to be getting a phone call.”

  “He wants me to run for the council seat?” Braden asked, brows raised.

  “He sure does. Since our forefathers founded this town, he feels it’s only right that someone in this family has a say in what goes on here.”

  “Maybe a female Galloway should run,” Braden’s sister, Carol, interjected with a sly smile.

  “You’d want to help run the town?” Melissa asked her mother.

  “That could be interesting, don’t you think?” Carol returned.

  With a frown, Shannon Galloway shook her head. “I’m not sure you’re cut out for the shenanigans that go on behind closed doors.”

  A stubborn expression settled on Braden’s sister’s face. “It can’t be any worse that what goes on at the board of the community theater. Women can be as cutthroat as men.”

  “April, do you find that’s true?” Braden’s mother asked me, looking as if she really wanted to know.

  “I work with both men and women—mostly men, though,” I admitted. “As long as we concentrate on business, we don’t have problems. We might have disagreements, but nothing we can’t work out. I guess working with men during my professional life, I’ve adjusted my management style so that it fits with theirs.”

  “Men and women work differently?” Melissa asked, intrigued.

  “Sometimes. In my experience, men tend to do business in a more cut-and-dried way. Women can bring a softer, sometimes more creative touch to the table. In a business like mine, men and women balance each other. The company is always concerned with the bottom line, yet we have to weigh that against a woman’s needs and what campaigns will catch her eye most effectively.”

  There was a sudden silence around the table as if everyone was thinking about my promotion, but no one wanted to mention it.

  Finally to break the awkwardness, I asked Collin, “Can you pass me the salad?” That seemed to do the trick, and everyone started chattering again. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  After we finished dessert, Braden stood by my chair ready to escort me to the living room.

  “I need to speak to your mother,” I told him.

  He looked concerned. “About?”

  “About everything. I feel as if there’s a wall of ice between us and I need to put a crack in it.”

  “Mom has set ideas,” he warned me.

  “Don’t we all?” I asked lightly.

  “Maybe you’re right. Just don’t forget her world’s very different from yours.”

  “Because I have a career and she never has?”

  “Not only that.” He glanced toward the kitchen where his mother had gone. “Our world—yours and mine—is much bigger than hers. We’ve traveled. We’ve spent time outside of Galloway. She was raised on a farm ten miles from here and she’s only been out of the state of Oklahoma twice—once for a vacation Dad insisted they take to the Wisconsin Dells, and the other for a conference that was church-related in Atlanta. She likes her life here and doesn’t see the need to expand it.”

  “Is that why you didn’t bring me home to meet your parents while we were dating? I mean, I met them the night we announced our engagement, but that was all.”

  “Let’s face it, April, you and I didn’t want to see anybody else. We wanted to be alone with each other.”

  I thought about our nights in bed, making leisurely love. I knew he was right. Still…

  “We were what mattered.” His tone was very serious.

  I wanted to ask him if we mattered now,
if there even was a “we,” but laughter broke out in the living room. Little Darcy came running through the dining room.

  She ran smack into me and caught a handful of my tunic to steady herself.

  Smiling, I crouched down to her. “Whoa! Are you okay?”

  With wide eyes, she stared at me. “Mommy says I shouldn’t run in Gran’s house.”

  “That’s probably a good idea.” I couldn’t help ruffling her curly brown hair. “Did Santa bring you what you wanted?”

  “Santa and Uncle Bwaden,” she assured me. “Santa left a baby doll. She cries. Uncle Bwaden got me blocks.” Moving over to him, she tugged on his hand. “Come build wif me.”

  As I straightened, my gaze locked on Braden’s. He’d obviously been watching me with Darcy. There was so much tenderness in his eyes that my heart lurched.

  Breaking eye contact, he gave his attention to Darcy. “What do you want to build?”

  “A bathtub,” she exclaimed and he laughed.

  “A bathtub it is.”

  After a last smile at Darcy, I assured Braden, “I’ll keep in mind what you told me about your mother.” As I opened the swinging door into the kitchen, I stepped into Shannon Galloway’s domain.

  She was loading the dishwasher, trying to decide what she could fit in and what she couldn’t.

  “I thought you might need help with some of those pots and pans.”

  “It’s nice of you to offer,” she replied formally, “but I can handle them. Joan will be in in a few minutes after she changes Danny. I’m not sure what happened to Carol, but she’ll be in, too.”

  Braden’s mother looked at me speculatively. “But now that you’re here—I think you should know how Braden feels about being a father.”

  “He’s told me.”

  “I’m not sure he’s gotten across to you how important it is to him or you wouldn’t even be thinking about moving to California.”

  Whoa! Apparently she didn’t pull any punches. I had to be honest with her. “This job offer in Los Angeles isn’t something that just happened.”

  “I understand that. They offered it to you about four months ago and that’s why you broke up with Braden.”

  I decided to slide over my breakup with her son. “The promotion was offered to me four months ago, but I’ve been working for it for the past ten years. When I moved to Galloway to take a job with this company, I knew what I wanted. My aim was to work to the best of my ability, earn respect and be asked to take a position in the highest echelon at corporate headquarters.”

  Shannon Galloway’s eyes were sad. “So this is a dream you’ve had for years and you’ve finally achieved it. Tell me, what new dream will you have when you reach Los Angeles? When you achieve success with this dream, what comes next? CEO? And when you become CEO, will you find that job and the salary solace when you’re all alone?”

  Her words hit me hard. “I won’t be alone. I’ll have a child.”

  “Don’t think Braden’s going to let you cut him out of this baby’s life.”

  “I don’t want to cut Braden out of this baby’s life. If I live in Los Angeles, we’ll figure out a way Braden can see his child.”

  Mrs. Galloway lifted her hands in frustration. “See his child? When? Every other weekend? A few weeks in the summer? Oh, April, that’s no way to be a parent. That’s no way for a child to grow up.”

  “Families are different now than they used to be,” I protested, trying not to be defensive.

  “They might be different, but that doesn’t mean they work. They might be different, but that doesn’t mean it’s good for the children. I’m not sure this whole situation is about a baby at all. Isn’t it about you wanting to keep your independence?”

  Wasn’t that exactly what I had told Braden—that I wanted to keep my independence. I couldn’t tell his mother that wasn’t a big part of it. “Maybe so.”

  “Parents sacrifice for their children. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.” Braden’s mother didn’t sound angry, just terribly concerned.

  “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” I said sincerely.

  “I expected you not to like anything I had to say.”

  “I didn’t say I liked it,” I admitted wryly. “I said I’d think about it.”

  With a chuckle that seemed to break that ice between us, Mrs. Galloway shook her head. “At least you’re honest. Come on, you can help me with the pots and pans.”

  Joan swung into the kitchen then, carrying glasses that had been sitting around the living room.

  “April’s going to help,” Braden’s mother announced, and Joan gave me a tentative smile to assure me that was all right with her.

  SPENDING THE DAY with Braden’s family had given me much to consider, especially his mom’s question about what dream came next for me. Once I was in Los Angeles…in the perfect job…with the baby, then how would I feel? What would I want? What would I strive for? Was giving my child the best of everything my new goal? Would giving my child two parents in one place be the best of everything?

  “You’re awfully quiet,” Braden remarked as he parked in front of my town house. “For a while there I thought you were asleep,” he teased.

  “Not asleep. Just thinking.”

  “About?” he prompted.

  “Everything.”

  “Just like a woman,” he complained. “I ask for simple and I get complicated.”

  “The thing is, you asked and I answered. I can’t always tell you what you want to hear.”

  The night we’d argued, he’d asked me if my promotion was more important than a life with him. I’d hesitated, then I’d told him honestly that I didn’t know. He hadn’t been able to accept my doubt, my wanting to explore the idea of moving to L.A. He hadn’t been able to explore it with me.

  Unexpectedly, he turned to me now, took my face in his hands and kissed me. It was quick and fast and over in an instant, like a clap of thunder or a flash of lightning.

  “What was that for?”

  “Your honesty. It always impressed me about you from the very beginning.”

  “Even though it frustrates you sometimes?” I asked.

  “Even though it frustrates me.”

  I couldn’t let Christmas end yet. I wanted a little time just for the two of us. Also, I needed his opinion on tests that could affect my pregnancy. “Do you want to come in for coffee? There is something I need to discuss with you…about my pregnancy.”

  In the darkness I could feel him tense. “Is there something wrong?”

  “No, at least I hope not. Let’s go inside.”

  As I unlocked the door and we stepped into the living room, Braden looked worried. His gaze passed over the peach-and-cream sofa and chair, the oak-and-glass tables, the sculpture of cattails hanging on the wall.

  “Nothing’s changed,” he remarked as he glanced into the eat-in kitchen, where a wrought-iron chandelier hung over the table.

  I felt everything had changed as I went toward the kitchen, shrugging off my coat on the way. “Coffee?” I asked, “Or something stronger?” I would be drinking milk no matter what Braden had.

  “That depends on what we’re going to discuss. Do I need something stronger?”

  I hung my coat over a kitchen chair. Braden hadn’t worn one. His red-and-black ski sweater made his shoulders look impressively broad. His black jeans made his legs look so long. A thrill of excitement went through me, with the awareness that we were alone here in my town house.

  “Forget the drinks for now,” he decided, motioning to the sofa.

  We sat side by side, hip to hip, and I almost forgot we weren’t a couple anymore. “I have a decision to make because I’m thirty-five and pregnant.”

  “What does being thirty-five have to do with it?”

  “There are tests available and advisable for women thirty-five and older. My obstetrician laid it all out at my appointment this week.”

  “Tell me about the tests.”

  Gazing into Brad
en’s green eyes, I was glad he was here to talk to about this. “I can have amniocentesis to diagnose genetic or chromosomal abnormalities, but with amnio, there’s a small risk of miscarriage.”

  He placed his hand over mine on my knee. “Do you have another option?”

  “Yes. Instead, I can have a multiple marker screening test and an ultrasound.”

  “Does this screening test have a name?”

  “It’s called the alpha-fetoprotein blood test.”

  “Is your doctor recommending one over the other?”

  “No, she isn’t. She gave me literature to read on the amnio and the AFP in combination with an ultrasound. Would you like to look at the pamphlets? I can make coffee for you while you do.”

  “Are you bound and determined to give me a caffeine high?”

  I laughed. “I’ve got decaf, too, if you’d like. I don’t want to hover while you look over the information.”

  “I could just take the pamphlets along.”

  “Yes, you could.”

  His hand was still covering mine. The heat we generated together seemed to fill the whole living room. I’m not sure what happened next—if I leaned toward Braden or he bent toward me. But sitting there like that, the months seemed to fall away and we were a couple again. As his lips captured mine, as I let the whirlwind of emotion I felt toward him swirl about me, I knew I still loved him. I’d never stopped loving him.

  As Braden’s tongue moved erotically against mine, I longed for him to make love to me again. I forgot about fears and goals and a job waiting for me in L.A. All that mattered was having Braden’s arms around me. All that mattered—

  Abruptly Braden broke the kiss and leaned away. His expression was troubled, and I could see our kiss had caused more turmoil than pleasure. “I shouldn’t have done that. We don’t want to muddle this up any more than it is.”

  “That kiss was like old times,” I murmured.

  “We can’t go back.”

  “We can go forward,” I offered, not knowing what I wanted from him.

  “We can make decisions about our child together. But when it comes to you and me—”

  He looked straight ahead rather than at me and his hand was a balled fist on his knee. “I felt betrayed when you gave back the ring. The fact that you would choose a promotion over us spoke volumes about the relationship we didn’t have. Afterward, I swore I’d find a woman who wanted a home and a family as much as I did.”