Once Upon a Pregnancy

by Judy Duarte

  Or had he wanted to make a good impression on her?

  He unlocked the front door and waited for her to enter. Once they were inside the house, he pointed out the hardwood floors, a redbrick fireplace that bore smoke and soot stains from years of use and a curved banister that led upstairs.

  The walls had been covered in a faded blue-and-yellow floral wallpaper that Simone suspected was part of the original decor. If not, it had been a part of the house for years.

  There were five bedrooms upstairs and one down. It seemed like a lot of square footage for a single man. Still, she could understand why a guy like him might want to tackle a big renovation, as this was bound to be.

  The kitchen, with its retro-style appliances and scarred gray linoleum, needed to be remodeled. The bathrooms—three of them—did, too. Yet there was a charm to the place, and she truly believed Mike had lucked out when it went on the market.

  “The house is wonderful, Mike. You’re really going to enjoy refurbishing it.”

  “I know. And I can’t wait to get started.” He placed a hand on her back and ushered her through the kitchen to the service porch, then out the door. The back lawn, like the one in front, had been newly mowed. A sprinkler had been turned on and was raining some much-needed water on the dried-out blades of grass.

  She suspected, before long, it would soon be a lovely shade of green.

  On the other hand, the shrubs, trees and bushes were in desperate need of a trim, and the flower beds could stand some attention from someone with a green thumb.

  “The yard still looks like a jungle,” Mike said, “but with some work, I ought to be able to whip it into shape before you know it.”

  “You’re going to get lost inside of this old place alone. Are you planning to fix it up, then turn around and resell it?”

  For a moment, his smile faltered, and his excitement waned. But just for a beat. “I plan to get married and fill it up with kids.”

  She suspected he’d been thinking about her and knew she would have to disappoint him again.

  Yet the thought of him finding a younger woman and creating a family with someone else twisted her heart in an unnatural direction.

  Rather than deal with the emotional discomfort of either option, she clung to the silence.

  Mike walked to the side of the house, where he turned off the sprinkler. “I’ll take Wags with me when I drop you off.”

  She ought to be happy to have one less dog, but she’d gotten attached to the little scamp. Of course, she didn’t dare mention anything like that.

  “Would it be okay with you if I picked up Woofer sometimes and brought him over to visit Wags?” Mike asked.

  “Sure.” The dogs had become much closer these days, and she suspected they’d miss each other.

  Shared custody, an inner voice whispered, bringing to mind that unsettling term again. But she quickly shrugged it off.

  Mike grabbed some kind of electrical, long-handled tool that had been leaning near the back porch. “Do you mind if we make a stop before I take you home and pick up Wags? I have to return this edger.”

  She didn’t mind. Nor was she in any hurry to get rid of that scruffy puppy with big, brown eyes. She was going to miss the little guy who met her at the door or the gate with a yappy bark and an I-need-you whine.

  After locking up the house, they headed for his Jeep. And moments later, they were on the road. Mike drove along Lexington to the other side of Walnut River and turned onto Cambridge Court.

  When he parked in front of a white stucco house with redbrick trim, she asked, “Who lives here?”

  “My folks. I borrowed the edger from my dad.”

  All the way across town? It would have been easier to drop her off at her house first. Of course, he also wanted to pick up Wags. Maybe he didn’t want to take Wags to his parents’ house.

  Yet something told her he might have an ulterior motive for bringing her with him. Had he come up with a phony excuse to force her to meet his parents?

  “Come in with me,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

  Simone stiffened. “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to introduce you to my mom and dad.”

  Had he told them about the baby? About his plans to marry her?

  A sense of panic settled over her, and she couldn’t seem to move.

  “You can wait in the car if you want,” he said. “But you don’t need to do that. Just come inside and say hello. We can leave whenever you want to.”

  Her stance didn’t soften in the least. “Did you tell them about the baby?”

  If he had, she wasn’t sure what she’d do.

  “No,” he said, “I haven’t said a word to anyone. Not even to Leif. But that’s not because I didn’t want to.”

  He seemed to have backed her into a corner, and while she didn’t feel like going through the how-do-you-do and the nice-to-meet-you motions, she unhooked her seat belt and got out of the Jeep.

  As she strode up the walkway, she tugged at the hemline on her blouse, now really hoping it didn’t look like a maternity top.

  When Mike rang the bell, he didn’t wait for anyone to answer. Instead, he swung open the door for Simone and called out, “Hey, it’s me. Is anyone home?”

  “Mikey!” a woman’s voice said. “Come on in. I’m in the kitchen.”

  As Mike led Simone through the house, she couldn’t help looking around the modest but cozy living room, with its display of family photos on the mantel of a brick fireplace.

  The warm aroma of sugar and spice filled the air and suggested someone was baking. As Mike led her to a small but functional kitchen, the mouthwatering scent grew stronger.

  Sure enough, she’d been right. A salt-and-pepper-haired woman wearing oven mitts was placing a cake onto an open breadboard to cool off. When she straightened, a loose curl flopped onto her forehead.

  “Looks like we arrived just in time,” Mike said to Simone. “My mom is the best cook in New England, if not the entire country.”

  Mrs. O’Rourke caught Simone’s eye and grinned. “My kids are biased. But I do love to cook. And there’s usually something on the stove or in the oven. I never know when one of them will come home. And when they do, they often have several friends with them.” She removed the mitts and reached out a hand to Simone. “Hi. I’m Rhonda O’Rourke. And while you’re welcome to have some carrot cake, it’ll taste better after it cools and I can whip up the sour-cream frosting.”

  Simone took the older woman’s hand in greeting as Mike introduced them.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Simone said.

  “We won’t be staying long,” Mike added. “I just brought Dad’s edger back.”

  “It’s too bad that you can’t stay,” Rhonda said. “I’ve got some iced tea and leftover apple cobbler I can feed you. That is, if your father didn’t get into it while I was at the market earlier this morning. He’s got such a sweet tooth.”

  “I don’t know about Simone,” Mike said, “but I could probably be coaxed into staying long enough to have some coffee and cobbler. And speaking of Dad, where is he?”

  “Outside.” Rhonda brushed at the errant curl with the back of her hand. “He’s working on the new gazebo. It’s nearly done.”

  “My dad retired after forty years as a police officer,” Mike told Simone. “And ever since he left the department, he’s taken an interest in the yard.”

  “Actually,” Rhonda said, “he’s always liked working with plants and flowers, but when our children were young, it seemed as though every kid in the neighborhood used to hang out at our house.”

  Mike cupped his hand around his mouth as though he meant to whisper, yet he kept his voice loud enough for his mom to hear. “Our friends all wanted to play here because of all the cookies and brownies they used to get.”

  Rhonda laughed, a warm, hearty lilt that a person could get used to hearing. “Okay, so I used to like knowing where my kids were at all times. And I wasn’t beyond bribing
them and their friends.”

  “Aha!” Mike said. “And here I thought you spent so much time in the kitchen because you loved to cook and bake.”

  Rhonda crossed her arms and grinned. “A mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.”

  Even Simone found herself smiling.

  “So,” Mike added, “with five of us kids living here, the doors and gates were swinging open and closed repeatedly.”

  “That’s true. And poor Sam couldn’t seem to do much in the yard except mow. The kids trampled any flowers or shrubs he tried to plant.”

  “So now that we’re finally adults, he’s making up for lost time.”

  “You ought to see the new rose garden.” Rhonda pointed to a vase on the kitchen table, where a bouquet of flowers in shades of red, yellow and pink was displayed.

  “Come on,” Mike said to Simone. “I’ll introduce you to my dad.”

  “Will you excuse me?” Simone asked Rhonda.

  “Of course. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and dish up the cobbler while you’re outside.”

  Simone followed Mike as he led her to the sliding glass door. Through the window, she could see a lovely backyard.

  Mr. O’Rourke, a stocky silver-haired man wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a bright yellow shirt and a green baseball cap, had his back to the house and was stooped over, pulling weeds from around the base of a rosebush bearing red buds.

  When Mike pushed open the sliding door and stepped onto the patio, the older man looked up and grinned.

  “Hey, Pop.” Mike placed a hand on Simone’s back as he escorted her across the lawn. “I brought your edger back.”

  The man’s grin stretched into a broad smile. “Looks like you brought more than a lawn tool.”

  Mike chuckled. “Yep. This is Simone Garner, one of the nurses at Walnut River General.” He then went on to introduce her to his father.

  “I’d shake hands,” Sam O’Rourke said, “but I’m afraid that would get you all dirty.”

  “Your wife was right,” Simone said. “That’s a lovely rose garden.”

  “Thanks. It’s coming along nicely, although I’m still learning how to take care of it properly.” Sam reached into his hip pocket and pulled out a pair of clippers. Then he cut off a blood-red bud, leaving the stem long. He snipped off the thorns before handing it to her. “Here you go, Simone. If you put this in water, it’ll bloom for days. And the fragrance will surprise you.”

  “Thank you.” She took the rose and sniffed the blossom. Sam was right; it smelled wonderful.

  “You might want to come inside and wash up,” Mike said. “Mom’s putting on some coffee and cutting into the cobbler.”

  “That little woman is a real prize, but I gotta tell you, I’ve put on twenty-five pounds since my retirement.” Sam patted his stomach, which hung over his belt. “But I’m not going to worry about that until Monday, when I start my new diet.”

  They went inside, where the aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. Sam cleaned up at the kitchen sink, then joined everyone else at the table, where they made small talk while eating the best apple cobbler Simone had ever tasted.

  Every once in a while, she caught one or the other of Mike’s parents stealing a surreptitious glance her way.

  Were they wondering if she and Mike were dating?

  Did they know she was pregnant?

  Before they’d come inside the house, Mike had insisted that he hadn’t told them about the baby. Hopefully, he’d been truthful. It made her feel…uneasy to think Sam and Rhonda might be privy to the news, that they might sit in judgment over her decision to give up their grandchild.

  But wouldn’t it be worse to be a lousy mother?

  Simone passed on the coffee, asking for water instead. And as they ate, Sam mentioned that Mike’s sister Kathy had just been hired as a reporter for the Walnut River Courier, and that his younger brother Dave, was going to propose to the young woman he’d been dating since high school.

  “Sammy has a Little League game on Saturday,” Rhonda said. “He’s going to play shortstop.” She turned to Simone and explained, “Sammy is Aaron’s son and our oldest grandchild.”

  “Are you going to the game?” Mike asked.

  Sam beamed. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

  “I’m even going to wear my lucky Baseball-Mama shirt.” Rhonda turned to Simone. “I used to practically live down at the ball field when Mike and his brothers were young. And it’s great to have a reason to go back and watch the kids play.”

  “I know it’s only T-ball,” Sam added, “but that boy is a natural-born athlete. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my namesake.”

  “You ought to stop by on Saturday,” Rhonda told Mike. “Sammy’s game starts at noon.”

  “I’ve got to work,” Mike said, “but I’ll try to make the next one.”

  “And bring Simone with you,” Sam said, a twinkle in his eye.

  Simone didn’t comment. She was both touched to have been included yet discomfited at the same time.

  Before long, they’d finished their bowls of cobbler.

  What was with all the conflicting emotions?

  Simone found herself wanting to find an excuse to stay longer, but she wasn’t any good at dealing with warm, fuzzy feelings. She always seemed to stiffen at the wrong time or say something that came across as awkward.

  She did much better at the hospital, where she could just do the job she’d been trained to do. Where her efforts to provide comfort or understanding actually worked.

  Fortunately, Mike stepped in and made it easy for her. “Simone and I have to go. I promised her we’d only stay a few minutes. Besides, I have a lot of work to do on that house.”

  “I can come over and help you rewire those electrical outlets,” Sam said.

  “Thanks, Dad.” Mike gave his dad a hearty hug, then kissed his mom on the cheek.

  It was nice to see the warmth the O’Rourkes showed each other.

  Yet it also reminded Simone of all she’d missed growing up.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mike glanced across the vehicle to the passenger seat, where Simone sat, staring out the window at the passing scenery. “So, what did you think?”

  She turned and caught his eye. “About what?”

  “My parents.”

  “They’re very nice. And you’re lucky to have them.”

  The O’Rourkes could be her family, too, Mike thought. That is, if she was willing to accept them. But he decided it was best not to push her any more than he already had.

  “What do you plan to do when you get back to your new house?” she asked.

  Was she intentionally trying to change the subject?

  Or did she just think it was time to move on to another topic?

  Either way, he was okay with it—for now, anyway. “Since I can’t get the gas and electricity turned on until tomorrow afternoon, I figured it’s a good idea to get those outlets changed. I also have a few light fixtures that need to be replaced. So I’m going to start with that.”

  “I guess that means you won’t have lights or a television tonight.”

  He’d thought about that this morning, before he signed the lease and picked up the keys. But he had to work tomorrow and didn’t want to put off moving in. He had a lot to do.

  And a baby on the way.

  “Most of my spare time will be spent on fix-it projects,” he said, “so I won’t be reading or watching much TV for a while.”

  “How long do you expect the project to take?”

  Up until the baby was born, he suspected. “I’d like to have it done for the holidays, although I think the place will be an ongoing project.”

  “I’m glad it all worked out for you.”

  He probably would have bought that particular house anyway, even if Simone wasn’t pregnant. Still, he was glad that things seemed to be coming together. “It’s going to need new paint and window coverings, too, but I’d rather get the re
pair work done first. Of course, that’s probably because I’m not that good at decorating. I never have had much of an eye for matching paint or fabric swatches.”

  “That’s the fun part,” Simone said.

  That’s what he’d been counting on. He slid another glance her way. “I don’t suppose you’d mind helping me with that—would you?”

  “Me?”

  He didn’t dare tell her the real reason he’d asked. That he hoped she’d live in the house with him someday. That he wanted her to leave her mark on their home, every wall, every room.

  Instead, he told her, “You’ve done such a great job decorating your place, I thought you’d have some good suggestions for what I can do with mine.”

  “Thanks.” She tucked a silky strand of hair behind her ear. “What did you want me to do?”

  He didn’t want it to seem like a big chore, so he shrugged. “Maybe you could come by later today or tomorrow and look around. I’m not all that fussy, but I would like the house to look nice inside. My folks always had off-white walls. But I’ve noticed some people get creative with colors these days. Not that I have time to look around when I’m called out on an emergency. But when it’s a false alarm, I sometimes notice things like that.”

  “I guess it kind of depends upon what you like and the style of your furniture.”

  He laughed. “Other than a bedroom set, a state-of-the-art stereo system and a plasma television, I don’t have furniture. In fact, I’ll be eating out a lot because all the kitchen stuff belongs to Leif, and I had to leave it behind.”

  “That house is huge,” she said. “So it’s really going to look empty.”

  “I can always go to the thrift store and fill it up with things other people didn’t want.”

  “Actually, because of the Victorian style, it might work to buy some antiques.” She seemed to think on that for a while.

  Before long, he pulled into Simone’s driveway and parked. As they climbed from the Jeep, he spotted the dogs standing at the gate on the side of the house.