by Drea Stein
“How long have you had them?” Lynn asked, guiding her onto the couch. There was a fire already crackling and Darby must have been resting here, because there was a stack of magazines, a glass of water, and blanket.
“When’s your due date?”
“It’s supposed to be three weeks from now,” Darby said, and Lynn could hear the worry and pain in her voice.
“It’s going to be ok. Just tell me how long the contractions have been going on.”
“I don’t know, I mean, I was tired this morning, so I decided to rest, and I think I might have fallen asleep and then I woke up and there was something that almost felt like cramping. It’s been going on for an hour. I’ve had them before, but they’ve always passed. But these are worse.”
Darby bit her lip as another contraction hit her. Lynn did a mental calculation. The contractions were close together and obviously painful.
Lynn could feel Jackson hovering behind her.
“Where’s Sean?” Lynn asked.
Darby shook her head. “At the restaurant. I told him I would be ok.” There was worry and fear in her voice.
Lynn took her hand, knelt closer, and looked in Darby’s eyes. “You are going to be ok. I’m a doctor, right?”
Darby nodded, then grimaced as another pain hit her.
“I just need to do a quick examination. Jackson,” Lynn turned to see him standing there in the doorway, looking scared. “Will you go get my bag from the car—the black one. And call Sean.”
“Should I call anyone else?”
Lynn shook her head. “Not just yet; it could be a false alarm.” Calling someone or rushing to the hospital might not be a great thing. It all depended on whether or not Darby would rather have her baby at home or by the side of the road.
She could hear Jackson’s rapid steps as he went to do as she asked.
“Darby, I am just going to take a look, to see if this is the real thing or another warmup, all right?”
Darby just nodded and Lynn went to work.
#
Jackson had made the phone call to Sean and gotten Lynn’s bag from the car and then stood back, wanting to ask if he could help. Then he realized how silly an idea that was. Lynn was in complete control. Calmly, Lynn had told him to call 911 and Darby’s doctor, but had also just as calmly told Darby that the baby was coming, sooner rather than later, and that in her best guess, they didn’t have time to wait for the ambulance or drive like lunatics to the hospital.
“What do you need? Towels, boiling water?” he asked.
Lynn looked at him from where she was busy helping Darby.
“Towels, lots of them. And yes boil some water. And dump these in,” she said, handing him scissors. “And a cup of ice chips,” she added as Darby gave a grunt that turned into a scream.
“Go,” Lynn said and turned her attention back to Darby.
It was over sooner than he would have thought, but judging by the sounds that Darby had made, it didn’t hurt any less because things had been quick.
Sean had come bounding in the door, the ambulance right behind him, but by then Lynn had been coaxing Darby to push, towels spread all about.
Jackson held onto his friend’s shoulder, but Sean went right in, going up to Darby, getting behind her and talking to her in a soothing voice.
The EMTs came crashing in and Jackson was jostled out of the way, but not before he heard Lynn’s triumphant, “That’s it,” and one final loud exclamation from Darby, and then there was a moment of silence and then the wail of a baby.
Jackson fell back against the wall, realizing that he was sweaty and that his legs were shaking. He unclenched his palms and looked back in the room. The EMTs were standing around, with all their gear, looking disappointed that they didn’t have more to do, and Lynn was handing the baby to Darby, who had tears streaking down her face.
“A beautiful baby girl,” Lynn said. “Congratulations.” She took a step back as the EMTs jumped in.
Sean was next to his wife, staring in awe at the wrapped bundle in her arms. There was another faint mewl and cry, and then Sean and Darby were laughing.
Lynn looked at Jackson, calmly wiping her hands with a towel. Her hair had escaped her hair clip and she looked flushed from the heat and the adrenaline, but she was smiling.
She came to him and he took her in his arms. “My God, that was amazing. You were amazing,” he whispered.
“I didn’t do anything. Darby and the baby did all the work.”
“You just delivered a baby.”
She looked at him, “Well, it’s kind of my job.”
“And it’s amazing, you’re amazing,” Jackson said. The last of the setting sun came in through the windows, hitting her brown hair, and she stood there, as calm as if she did this every day. Something shifted in Jackson and his stomach dropped. He looked over at Sean and Darby and saw the way they looked at each other and their baby daughter. Then he looked at Lynn, who too, was absorbed the scene.
“I wonder who will have won the baby pool,” she said, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she had just participated in a miracle.
Jackson swallowed, not sure how he was going to handle the fact that he was madly, deeply in love with Lynn Masters.
#
They never made it out to find a new TV, but Lynn was happy. The ambulance had taken Darby and the baby, whom they had named Emma, to the hospital, and they had gone too, to fill out some paperwork. A celebratory glass of champagne followed in Darby’s hospital room and then they had left the happy family behind as more family and friends crowded in to visit them.
Lynn felt like she was walking on air. It had been pretty cool to deliver a baby, and not just anybody’s. A friend’s. And not in a hospital room. Not every day you got to do something like that. Yup, these were the days when she was glad of what she did. When all the hard work really and truly paid off.
She leaned back against Jackson, comfortable on the couch. He had been quiet since they had left the hospital, pensive almost.
The adrenaline of the day was slowly wearing off and she felt drowsy.
“Come, I’ll carry you to bed,” he said, and before she knew it, she had been scooped up and he was carrying her down the hallway towards the bedroom. Part of her wanted to protest that she could walk, but there didn’t seem to be much point in it.
Slowly, carefully, he set her down on the bed. There was just one lamp on and she could see the way he looked at her. Suddenly she wasn’t tired anymore and felt herself responding to the look, to the hunger, the desire in his eyes.
Their lips met at the same time, coming together, his kiss soft and sweet, which left her wanting more; but when she tried to push the pace, he kept things slow, his hands trailing over her body with a moving tenderness and a careful touch that made her insides coil with intensity.
Delicately, he undressed her, clothes peeling off until she was on the bed, and he looked at her, the hunger replaced by an almost reverent look as his gaze traveled over her. She felt the way his eyes burned into her and realized that something had changed between them. That her fight against her feelings for him was a losing battle. Somewhere along the way she had lost herself in him.
The thought scared her, and then as he kissed her, gentle at first, but then with passion, the heat, the electricity sparked between them. She rose up to meet him, bringing him down to her, giving her whole self to him, letting him give himself to her.
There were no more boundaries, she thought as his hands moved over her, his simple touches leaving her quivering with excitement, her climax building to the breaking point before he finally entered her and together they moved, the motion pushing them both up and over the crest until finally they both hit the edge and tumbled down the other side in an exquisite cascade of feeling.
They held each other in the dim light, not a word said between them, quietly wrapped together. Lynn felt Jackson’s breathing deepen as he dropped off to sleep, still holding her tight. She didn’t want to move, afraid to wak
e him, but at the same time her thoughts were racing, tumbling at what it all meant.
Tonight had been different, she could feel that with him. Perhaps it was only because he too had been affected by watching a miracle. Most people, men especially, never got that close to something that amazing. It wasn’t her, she told herself, it had to be the situation; she needed to not read too much into it. Doing so would only get her hurt. In the morning, they would be back on familiar ground. And that’s where she would try to keep it.
Chapter 46
They had just finished a run and were doing their cool-down walk along the boardwalk. It was cold, but they had dressed in layers. Jackson was trying to convince her that the first snow of the season couldn’t be too far behind and she was asking him when they could go skiing. He laughed and mentioned that he knew a guy with a place in Vermont.
“How come you always know a guy?” she grumbled, but she wasn’t displeased at the fact that they were making plans for the future, even if it was only for a weekend of skiing. She had visions of snowstorms, roaring fires with blankets and pillows piled high in front of them.
All, in all it was a totally normal day in the life of a perfectly normal couple as they made their way to The Golden Pear to check on the daily soup specials.
“It’s just not the same without Darby here,” Lynn said, looking over the menu board, inhaling the savory aroma of baked goods and hearty soups.
“Oh well. I guess a new baby means you don’t have much time to cook the clams for the chowder.”
Darby and Sean were in seventh heaven taking care of Emma, sleep deprived as they were. Darby was taking a much-deserved rest, with her dad and a few key employees picking up the slack at the café.
“She did say not to worry about the Harvest Ball fundraiser. She told me that between her, Sean, and her dad, they would have everything covered.”
Jackson smiled. “I hear tickets are a hot commodity for the fundraiser.”
Lynn laughed. “Perhaps, but I think people are afraid to say no to Caitlyn. Every day someone orders more tickets and they say Caitlyn told them it was a good cause.”
The Harvest Ball was the event she and Caitlyn had planned as the fundraiser for the Healthy Kids Now foundation. It was a kids’ costume party, to be held in the high school gym, with games and activities, plus a silent auction with lots of goodies for grownups too. Darby had worked out a healthy, Halloween-themed menu and had seemed to be excited to make hundreds of ghostly cupcakes that were secretly teeming with vitamin-packed pumpkin puree.
Lynn laughed and snuggled into Jackson’s arm, which was slung across her shoulder, loving the feeling. They still hadn’t talked about anything other than what they planned to do over the weekend. Still, there was the assumption that they would be spending it together. Slowly, Lynn had noticed she’d been spending more than a few weeknights at Jackson’s house, where they chatted about their day while he cooked and they watched TV or read together and made love and then woke up to showers, breakfast, and rushing off to their separate workdays.
It was all perfectly perfect; but Lynn wondered how long she could go on with it before she would burst out and demand to know how he really felt, where he saw things going. But something always stopped her, that look in his eyes—the haunted, wounded look that told her he was still hurting and that she wouldn’t like the answer if she asked the question. It was cowardice she supposed, because it would hurt too much to know, that after all, she wasn’t enough.
#
They picked up their soup, and took it go, sitting on one of the benches overlooking the harbor to eat it.
“You have some pumpkin bisque on your nose,” he said, looking down at her. She glanced up and went to reach for it.
“Here let me.” He moved in closer with his napkin and paused. She was looking up at him, her dark brown eyes liquid, full of life and laughter.
He ignored the soup and instead angled his head and went down for the kiss. She seemed surprised but pressed herself into it. He took his free hand and snaked it around her back, pulling her closer. She tasted sweet and spicy, like the season, and he couldn’t get enough of her.
A small sigh of what he hoped was happiness escaped her. He angled down and brought up his hand to run it along the straight line of her jaw. Her skin was soft and smooth and he felt the small shiver that ran through her.
He broke the kiss and saw the look in her eyes. They were almost finished eating and he knew without asking that they would head back to his house tonight, together, that this had become routine. He liked it, wanted it, and was always disappointed if for some reason she couldn’t come to him, if next to him the bed was empty.
He knew that she was starting to wonder, wonder where things were going. Still she never asked, but he could tell in the glances she sent him sometimes, in the brief, clouded looks that crossed her beautiful face when she thought he wasn’t looking. He loved her, he knew that; he had admitted it to himself—but what did it mean? He had made a promise to himself never to lose himself again; but with Lynn it was desperately easy to do that.
It was the ghost of Ashley that saved him. Lynn would dance around the subject, but she never pushed it. He let it be that way, letting her think that there was only so much of him to give. He hoped that she would be happy with that but also dreaded the day when she asked for more. Because even though he loved her, he couldn’t be in love with her, couldn’t give himself to her. And he knew she would never accept less than that, not in the long term. Nor, he admitted, did she deserve it.
#
They walked together, Lynn quiet but unsettled. She knew she had almost said something to him, about what he was thinking back on the bench, but she had chickened out again. So they strolled on, and she almost didn’t notice as Jackson slowed and she felt him stiffen beside her.
She looked up, surprised by his sudden stop. He was standing as if frozen, the look on his face as if he had seen a ghost. Lynn followed his gaze. A woman, an attractive middle-aged blond, dressed in black leggings and a brightly patterned top, stood there, almost blocking their way.
“Jackson.” Her voice was high, pitched with shock, and Lynn decided that she too looked like she had seen a ghost.
“Mrs. Moran,” he said, his voice hoarse. Lynn stood still, looking between the two of them. They were all standing by the water, caught in a chilly breeze. A nor’easter was coming, Tory had predicted earlier that day and Lynn, feeling the sudden heaviness in the air, believed it.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Mrs. Moran said, looking between the two of them.
“I’m back in town. I thought you had moved.”
A bitter look came across her face. “So that’s why you thought you could come back? What, have you just been waiting all this time for us to leave so you can come in and take over this town? That would be just like you.”
“I just…I didn’t think I’d meet you,” Jackson said, and Lynn could tell he was stumbling to find the right words.
“Well, here we are,” Mrs. Moran said, and she turned slightly to include Lynn in the conversation. There was a pause and Lynn realized that the woman was waiting for an introduction. And that Jackson seemed to be tongue tied.
“I’m Lynn Masters. I work at the clinic,” she said. She held out her hand.
“Libby Moran.” The woman stepped forward, took Lynn’s hand, and shook it. Lynn could actually feel the discomfort and tension suspended between Jackson and Libby Moran. Lynn sucked in a deep breath. This was Ashley’s mom; it had to be.
“You must be new to town, right?” There was a nasty edge to the woman’s voice.
“Relatively,” Lynn answered, feeling as if the woman’s eyes were searching for answers, and then as if finding one, swiveled and turned to Jackson.
“I can’t believe you would dare to come back here, to where she walked and lived, and flaunt your life in my face. You lived, she died,” Libby hissed.
Jackson said nothing, his face pal
e, his eyes sunken. Lynn swallowed, wondering just what to do. She took a step forward, but Jackson’s arm held her back.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Moran. You’re right…”
“Libby!” There was a short, bark of a voice and a man, also in his fifties, with thinning light brown hair and watery blue eyes, wearing khakis, boat shoes and a windbreaker, came hurrying up.
Behind him trailed a teenaged girl, gawky all long legs, blond hair and with an endearing bit of awkwardness about her.
“Libby,” the man repeated, grabbing the woman by the arm and holding her as she took a step toward Jackson.
He didn’t make a move to defend himself, though and the slap took his cheek hard and fast.
“Jackson,” the man said, pulling his wife back, “I’m sorry. Libby, you can’t do this.”
“I can!” she yelled, her voice a wail. “I can and I will. Bill, he lived and she died. How is that fair? It was his fault.” Her face dissolved into tears and the man, Mr. Moran, Lynn had to assume, pulled his wife to him and rocked her as her body shook with sobs.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly over his wife’s cries. “We had to come back and settle a few things with the house sale. It’s hitting her hard.”
The girl behind them, whom Lynn thought must be the little sister, Lindsay, stayed still, watching, her eyes darting between her parents and Jackson.
“Come, dear. Come,” Bill Moran said soothingly, and Jackson took Lynn’s hand and all but pulled them past on the boardwalk, his face set, his shoulders rigid.
Lindsay reached out a hand to touch Jackson’s arm and he looked down at it and then her.
“I’m sorry,” Jackson said tonelessly.
“Jackson, please, let me…” she said.
He gave a quick shake of head and said, “No, Lindsay. No.”
Her father called to her, and she followed, shooting Jackson one last look.
Lynn stood frozen, watching the retreating figures of the Morans. In a moment, they were alone, the only sound the flag flapping and snapping in the wind, the single shriek of a gull as it wheeled above them, catching the currents of the air.
