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

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  I felt so bad for Carol. If my child ever thought she couldn’t confide in me or even just talk to me, I’d be devastated.

  Entering the fray, Braden put his hand on Melissa’s shoulder. “Honey, maybe you’d better go to your room and let me talk to your mom.”

  Braden’s niece looked up at him. “Talking won’t do any good. She doesn’t listen!”

  Then with the photos clutched to her chest as if they were the most precious things in the world to her, she ran to her room.

  Addressing his sister, Braden motioned to the chairs. “Why don’t we sit down and talk about this.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Carol replied tersely. “This isn’t any of your business. She’s my daughter.” Glaring at me, she said pointedly, “This is all your fault. If you hadn’t brought your cosmetics in here, this wouldn’t have happened.”

  I thought about the treasures Melissa kept in her closet and I wanted to tell Carol about them, but I knew that was probably the worst thing to do right now. “She just wants you to listen to her,” I suggested quietly.

  “You’re pregnant and suddenly you know everything there is to know about kids? Let me tell you, April, I’ve taken care of Melissa since she came home from the hospital. I’ve been here day after day, night after night, not off earning a reputation for myself, not trying to compete with men but nurturing my child.”

  Braden stepped closer to me. “Don’t do this, Carol. Go to Melissa and talk to her.”

  “Do you think talking’s going to help this…this rebellion of hers? By treating her like a grown-up, April has made the situation ten times worse.”

  “I didn’t mean any harm,” I began, hurting for Melissa as well as Carol.

  “You never mean any harm, do you? I guess you didn’t mean any harm when you chose a promotion over Braden’s love for you. Do you know how devastated he was? Do you know—?”

  “Carol!” Braden’s voice was louder and rougher than I’d ever heard it.

  His sister went quiet and from the expression on his face, so did I. In an instant of anger, Carol had raised the specter of our breakup again. I saw the pain in Braden’s eyes and I realized that his dreams had been even bigger than mine. When he’d given me a ring he’d envisioned a wedding, two lives united on one course, building a family. My fear and ambition had shut all that down.

  After Braden laid the photograph of Melissa on the table, he said to me, “I’ll get our things. Let’s go.”

  Without another word to us, Carol went to Melissa’s room. I put on my coat and picked up the cosmetics kit.

  Looking awkward, Joel met us at the door. He said to me, “I’m sorry about what happened in there. I know she’d never admit it, but Carol is jealous of you.”

  That shocked me. “Why?”

  “She sees what you’ve accomplished, your confidence and independence, and I think part of her wishes she had that, too, especially now that Melissa’s growing up and building boundaries between them. Carol knows she’s going to have an empty nest soon, and I think she’s afraid of that. It’s not an excuse, but it might help you understand.”

  I did understand. I’d be raising a son only to have to let him go. There was an old expression for that—giving a child roots and wings.

  On the drive to my town house, Braden was silent. In the parking lot, he switched off the ignition. When I looked at him, I knew I had to bring up our broken engagement.

  “When I gave back your ring, I thought I was doing what was best for both of us. We wanted different things—”

  “You didn’t break off our engagement because it was best for both of us. You broke it off because it was best for you.” The anger and hurt he’d never expressed were in his voice now. “You were too scared to take the plunge into marriage, to give up any of your independence. You were afraid to have a baby and you didn’t even tell me!” He swore, then demanded, “Why did you say yes, when I asked you to marry me?”

  Obviously he’d been holding in all the pain and anger, maybe hoping it would diminish or vanish on its own. It hadn’t. “I said yes because I loved you,” I returned quietly. “I said yes because I thought we’d be engaged for a while, married for a while, and then we’d have a family.”

  “Your fear wouldn’t have disappeared just because we got married,” he pointed out, aiming another angry glance in my direction.

  “No. But I guess I hoped in time, with your love and your trust, it would fade away. I know you were hurt and maybe you’ll never be able to forgive me, but maybe you need to think about something else, too. I didn’t break off our engagement, you did—when I wouldn’t agree to stay in Galloway. Yes, I gave your ring back, but only because I saw you wouldn’t change your mind. You didn’t even try to change my mind! You just let me go, as if our engagement hadn’t mattered to you at all. You just dropped me and the idea of us because I didn’t fall in with your plans. After we broke up, it seemed to me you regretted jumping in so fast.”

  “I did regret jumping in so fast.”

  His words hung in the car between us and I’d had enough heart-wrenching emotion for one day. I opened the door and got out.

  Again he didn’t come after me.

  Once I was inside my town house, I realized I’d left my cosmetics case and overnight bag in his car. I didn’t care. At that moment, I figured Braden had always liked the idea of having a family but had never truly loved me.

  BY TUESDAY MORNING I’d cried all my tears. In my office, I called Charlie and set up a meeting for the following day. No matter what had happened, Braden and I would still be coparents. The best decision I could make for our son would be to stay in Galloway.

  The guard in the lobby buzzed me to say that a messenger was coming to my office. When I went to the door, the uniformed man handed me an envelope. Inside was an invitation requesting my presence at the Tin Roof in Galloway at eight o’clock that evening.

  My first thought was to make an excuse and be busy doing something else. But if Braden and I were going to be parents successfully, we’d also have to be friends—no matter how much my heart hurt right now.

  THAT EVENING I was surprised to see very few cars in the parking lot of the Tin Roof. However, there were lights on inside. I went to the restaurant and opened the door. When I walked in, the lobby was dim and no maître d’ stood at the podium. As I stepped into the main dining room, the scent of flowers surrounded me and I saw there were pink roses everywhere. The tables were devoid of tablecloths except for one in the center of the room. There was a globed candle in the middle of it and two place settings, as well as a beautiful crystal vase. It didn’t hold any flowers. Then I spotted the instruments on a small dais in the corner of the room—a cello, a violin and a clarinet.

  I heard the door from the kitchen open and turned toward it. Dressed in a suit and tie, Braden came into the dining room. He was so devastatingly handsome I wanted to cry.

  His expression was serious as he came to me, took my purse from my hands and laid it on the table, then unbuttoned my coat. I felt as if I was in a daze when he lifted it from my shoulders and stowed it on a chair away from our table.

  From a nearby table, he picked up a bouquet of pink roses and handed them to me.

  I’d worn one of my new maternity outfits, teal-blue slacks and a matching embroidered blouse. But Braden didn’t seem to care what I was wearing as his gaze locked on mine. “Tonight is for you.”

  “Braden?” I wasn’t sure what this meant and my heart was beating so fast I could hardly breathe.

  “Everything between us from the very beginning happened too fast and got muddled. When I asked you to marry me, I was absolutely in love with you. When we broke up I was hurt, but it was my pride that kept me from calling you…my pride that kept me from coming after you. I can’t let pride stand in my way anymore.”

  Taking the roses from my hands, he settled them in the empty vase. Then he pulled out a chair at the table, and I saw that there were two boxes on it.
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  He picked up one of them. “I have two gifts for you. Open this one first.”

  My fingers fumbled as I set the white bow on the table and tore shiny blue paper off a small box. When I lifted the lid, I found a beautiful diamond necklace inside.

  “That’s the diamond that was in your engagement ring, the one you returned to me. I want you to wear it to remember how much I loved you then, as well as how much I love you now.”

  My eyes began swimming with tears as he took the box from my hand and set it down. Then he handed me a velvet ring box.

  “Open it,” he encouraged.

  When I lifted the lid, I saw a beautiful engagement ring—a marquise cut with small diamonds surrounding it. I didn’t know what to say.

  “I love you, April, and I realize now that you need proof of that. I was arrogant to think my life couldn’t change or that it might have to follow a different course than I planned in the beginning. I have good managers at both of my restaurants. I know how much this promotion means to you. So…I think we should move to California and I’ll open another restaurant there. I can fly back to Oklahoma now and then, but my life will be with you and our baby.”

  Absolutely stunned, I asked, “You’d leave your family? I know how much they mean to you. And what about the contract on the house?”

  A house that I really liked.

  Taking the ring from the box, he carefully slipped it onto my finger. Then his arms were enfolding me, drawing me close. “I haven’t settled on the house yet. And as far as family…Over the past few days I’ve realized just how much I want to make a life with you. We’ll create our own family.”

  In technicolor I remembered Christmas Day with Braden’s parents, sister and brother—the laughter, the joking, the conversation, the bonds. I remembered staying with Melissa and making brunch with her and the sense of connection I felt. With a blinding flash of insight I understood I’d hung on to my ambition because I thought I’d never find unconditional love. I never thought I would find a man who could fill my life as much as my work always had. But Braden did fill my life…and I loved him.

  Stroking his jaw, I knew I was making the right decision. “You don’t have to leave everything you hold dear. Last night I decided our son is more important than any job in California. He’s going to be the center of my life for a while. I’m hoping Natural Beauty will keep me on part-time so I can keep my hand in. In a few years, when our son starts school, it will be about time for Charlie to retire. Maybe he’ll recommend me for his position,” I confided with a smile.

  “Are you sure?” Braden asked, looking worried. “I don’t want you to ever regret staying here.”

  “I won’t have any regrets. I love you. And I want our son to have family around him. I want your mom to spoil him and Melissa to babysit him.”

  I could see nothing in the world would stop Braden from kissing me then. His lips were on mine—possessively, masterfully, lovingly.

  When he broke away, he assured me, “I’ll never swallow you up. I’ll always remember that you need to be successful in your own right, too.”

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I whispered, “I know you will.”

  Then he was kissing me again and we promised each other the rest of our lives.

  EPILOGUE

  “COME ON,APRIL. One more giant push and you can celebrate your first real Mother’s Day,” Dr. Felton encouraged, peering at me over her mask.

  I felt as if I’d been pushing for many hours, though in reality it had only been about two. Braden had been by my side every minute since I’d gone into labor the previous evening. We’d come into the hospital at seven this morning, when the contractions had been a mere three minutes apart. He was a wonderful coach…and a wonderful husband. We’d been married on Valentine’s Day. Two weeks later we’d settled on the house Braden had shown me and moved in.

  My husband’s eyes were filled with love as he squeezed my hand, bent close, then whispered, “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s meet our son.”

  As my due date had drawn closer, I’d become increasingly afraid that what had happened to Jenny would happen to me. But in those anxious moments, Braden had taken me into his arms, held me and reassured me.

  With all my might, I summoned what energy I had left and pushed with my heart and soul and body.

  With his cheek next to mine, Braden held my shoulders, supporting the effort I was making.

  “There he is,” the doctor announced jubilantly.

  Almost in a sitting position, I peered over the sheet, and then I heard the sound I’d yearned to hear for nine long months—my baby’s first cry.

  “We have a son!” Braden kissed me. His voice was thick and I caught the sheen of moisture in his eyes right before his lips covered mine. My cheeks were wet from happy tears, and I knew we’d never forget this moment for as long as we lived.

  “Everything’s fine,” the doctor assured me as she suctioned our son’s mouth and then let Braden cut the cord. After the nurses cleaned him up and wrapped him in a blue blanket, Nathan Michael Galloway was nestled in my arms. He’d stopped crying as soon as the nurse settled him there.

  Running his thumb over our baby’s black hair, Braden decided, “He looks like a Nathan.”

  “I think so, too.” We’d spent weeks picking out the name and now it seemed to fit perfectly.

  “I know you need to rest, but the nurse just told me my whole family’s here. Are you too tired to see them?”

  Over the past few months, I’d gotten closer to Braden’s family, even closer to Carol. At our wedding reception, she’d admitted to me that she and Melissa had talked…really talked for the first time in a long time. She apologized for her comments that Sunday and confided she had always wanted a career of some kind. I suggested it wasn’t too late.

  Because of my blossoming feelings for Braden’s family, I’d become closer to my own family, too. My mother was thrilled she was going to be a grandmother. Taking a stand, she said she would visit me this summer. If Dad couldn’t take time off work, she’d come alone and nothing would keep her away. Jenny was flying in next week, using her vacation days so she could help me adapt to motherhood. When I asked if that wouldn’t be too hard for her, she told me she needed the practice. She’d found an unwed mother who was giving up her baby for adoption, and she was going to become a mother after all.

  Gazing up at my husband, knowing exactly how much he loved me, I said, “I’m not too tired. I want everybody to meet the newest member of the Galloway family.”

  The doctor and nurses had moved away to give us a few moments of privacy. Braden kissed my temple, kissed my lips, and then ran his index finger over our son’s cheek, gazing at me all the while. “Do you know how much I love you?”

  “Yes. As much as I love you.”

  We were equals, partners, lovers and friends.

  No matter where life took us, we would face the challenges and the journey together.

  “We have to give him wings so he can fly on his own some day,” I mused.

  Braden’s large hand covered mine. “We will.”

  Braden’s promise was as strong and true as his wedding vows had been. With my heart so full of happiness I could hardly absorb it, I knew our son would be our joy and would bring us even closer together—hour by hour…day by day…year by year.

  Side by side with Braden, I looked forward to every moment of the rest of our lives.

  ON ANGEL’S WINGS

  Inglath Cooper

  Dear Reader.

  I loved writing On Angel’s Wings. I wrote the story after discovering Bridge of Hope, a real-life program where older Russian orphans come to the United States for a one-month stay with a host family. Many of these children end up being adopted by their “summer” family. The stories I read from both children and families who had participated made me wish for a way to bring this program to my own community.

  After speaking with the wonderful people at Cradle of Hope in Silver Spring, Maryland
, I learned that this was indeed possible. Along with a group of wonderful women from my church, we formed a committee, then set about raising the money to bring the children to our community and getting the word out to potential host families. It was an absolutely incredible experience. Our first group of children arrived in July 2005, and I know I will never forget the image of their sweet, hopeful faces as they met their host families for the first time.

  To see children with no family of their own end up with a mother and father who love them beyond words is like witnessing a miracle. I feel so blessed to have been a part of this program. Although my story is a complete work of fiction, I do hope it gives honor to the intentions of such efforts.

  In On Angel’s Wings, Rachel and Clay have suffered the loss of a child, a tragedy that nearly destroys them. They have both come to accept that they will never again know real happiness. Until, that is, a little girl named Sasha walks into their lives, and they begin to realize they have so much left to give.

  I hope you enjoy this story. For a look at my other titles, please visit my Web site, www.inglathcooper.com.

  All the best,

  Inglath Cooper

  For the Bridge of Hope families and their children. In my eyes, heroes and heroines, each and every one.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “WILL IT HURT, Dr. Foster?”

  I’d been a practicing pediatrician for fourteen years now, but still hadn’t gotten used to being asked this question. I wished I could say no. I wished it didn’t hurt.

  “Just for a second,” I said, putting a hand to the child’s shoulder. “It will be over before you know it.”

  “Come on, Molly,” the little girl’s mother said, lifting her up onto the examining table. “Ice cream on the way home, remember?”

  Our office had been swamped today. Rather than prolong Molly’s misery by having her wait on a nurse, I decided to give the shots myself. At five years old, Molly was braver than most children her age who had long ago figured out what trips to the doctor usually meant. She lay very still on the table, one hand locked in a please-don’t-let-go grip with her mother’s hand. I swabbed the area on her thigh with alcohol, quickly injected the needle, withdrew it and popped the cap back on the syringe. Just as I stuck a Band-Aid on the spot, Molly began to cry, the sobs reluctant as if she didn’t want to, but couldn’t help it. The emotion echoed through me. I bit my lip and turned away, dropping the used syringe in the biohazard disposal hanging on the wall.