“Oh,” Brenda said, smoothing her maternity smock over her stomach. “Well, aren’t kids just the cutest thing? ‘Smile at each other with warm eyes.’ Isn’t that sweet? Of course, they misinterpreted what they were seeing, but that’s understandable. The triplets are only six years old. What do they know about love, being in love and…stuff?”
“More to the point,” Kara said, leaning forward, “what do you know about the subject?”
“Well, I admit that I’m no expert,” Brenda said, lifting her chin, “but I certainly know the difference between loving someone as a best friend and being in love with the person who is your soul mate, your forever, your— Yes, I do, no doubt about it. Those two kinds of love aren’t even in the same arena, the same stratosphere, the same… You get the drift.”
“Mmm,” Kara said. “You mentioned in the examining room that you were worried about Richard because he was working so hard getting this new company of his off the ground.”
“Oh, he is, Kara,” Brenda said, nodding. “He’s putting in terribly long days, is forgetting to eat and…he has dark smudges under his eyes, and he looks exhausted more often than he should. He’s happy, though, very excited about this new adventure of his, and that’s worth a lot, but I do wish he was taking better care of himself.”
“And you’re also positive that Richard will rally when you tell him that I’ve ordered you to slow down and take things easy,” Kara said.
“I know he will, because he loves this baby,” Brenda said, patting her stomach.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Bren,” Kara said, throwing up her hands, “did it ever occur to you that Richard loves you, is in love with you, isn’t just centered on the child you’re carrying? And did it ever occur to you that you are in love with him, too, and you just haven’t realized it?”
“That’s just not how it is between me and Richard,” Brenda said quietly. “It just isn’t. Kara, I’m not alone in my thinking. Richard and I have discussed this at length, and are in complete agreement on the subject. Being best friends is not enough to base a marriage on, and we’re not in love with each other, so…” She shrugged.
“Well, the MacAllister family vote is in to the contrary,” Kara said, folding her arms over her chest, “and there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that Richard is the baby’s father. Oh, don’t worry. No one is going to start getting on your case about it, but the family truly believes that you and Richard are in love with each other and are too…too…well, there’s no other word for it…too dumb to see what’s right in front of your noses.”
“Well, that’s rude,” Brenda said indignantly. “Calling us dumb. That’s not very nice at all. I’m not surprised, I guess, that everyone figured out that Richard is the baby’s father even though no one has said anything about it, but you people just don’t understand the concept of being best friends without being in love because none of you have ever been in the emotional place where Richard and I are.”
“And a whole group of people,” Kara said, sweeping one hand through the air, “an entire family who cares about you are wrong?”
“Right,” Brenda said. “They’re wrong. Right.” She leveled herself to her feet. “I must go. I’m meeting Richard for lunch so I can report on how my appointment with you went, and I’m sure you have other patients to see. ’Bye, Kara.”
“Make an appointment for next week, Bren,” Kara said. “And no salt. And stay off your feet as much as possible and—”
“Yes, yes, I’ve got it all memorized,” Brenda said, smiling. “Come on, baby girl,” she said, patting her stomach. “We’ve got a lunch date with your daddy.”
Richard sat at a small round table in a pool of sunshine on the terrace of the restaurant where he’d agreed to meet Brenda for lunch.
The December day was crisp, and his first inclination had been to request a table inside where it was warmer. He’d hesitated, then asked the hostess if there was a free space on the terrace in the sunshine, knowing that Brenda would enjoy the fresh air.
He’d smiled his approval at the location of the table, ordered a soda and settled in to wait for Brenda. He was early for their date, he knew, but the extra time might be just what he needed to improve his lousy mood.
He poked an ice cube in his glass with the straw, watched the cube dunk under the dark liquid, then pop back up to the surface. He repeated the process, frowning as the ice once again appeared.
Dumb ice cube, he thought. It would keep struggling to the top, time after time, even though it was melting, growing smaller and smaller. It wouldn’t give up. Then it would finally cease to exist, would just disappear as though it had never been there. All that effort, all that work, would have been for nothing.
Richard took the straw from the glass, dropped it onto the table, then rotated his neck back and forth with the hope of relaxing the knotted muscles.
He felt like that ice cube, he thought dismally. He was knocking himself out, putting in long hours that were physically and mentally draining, in an attempt to get his fledgling business off the ground. He was struggling to get to the top, just like the ice in the glass.
But there was a constant knot in his stomach stemming from the feeling that there was something wrong, something missing, something off-kilter about his new endeavor that was keeping him from being excited, enthused, filled with anticipation about the challenge that lay ahead.
Richard sighed and wrapped his hands around the tall, cold glass, staring into the drink at the ice cube.
If he melted, just disappeared, would it matter?
Well, yeah, sure it would. He had a large, extended family who loved him. He was going to be a daddy to a precious baby girl in two months. He had Brenda, his best friend, who was an integral part of his life, and vice versa. He had hired people who were now counting on him for their livelihood and careers.
Richard’s hold on the glass tightened.
And it wasn’t enough.
It all fell just short of his lifelong hopes and dreams.
And there, he thought, was the source of his discontent, the cause of the fist in his gut that grew bigger and colder with every passing day.
He was reaching for the gold ring on the merry-go-round and missing it by inches, was so close, so close, but just couldn’t quite get ahold of it and claim it as his.
Dandy, he thought, shaking his head in self-disgust. He’d gone from being a melting ice cube to a kid on a carnival ride who wanted to go for the gold.
But he wasn’t a child. He was a man. He was Richard MacAllister, who wanted, with every breath in his body, to be head over heels in love, to have a partner in life, a soul mate, to share the good times and bad.
He wanted a home overflowing with love and laughter, and the sound of happy children at play.
He wanted a wife, who would snuggle close to him in their bed at night after they’d made sweet, beautiful love, sleep with her head nestled by his on the same pillow, then wake up next to him at dawn’s light.
He wanted it all.
But it wasn’t going to happen.
Richard drained the glass, then thunked it back onto the table.
So close, he thought. The pieces were all there, scattered, but if he attempted to put them together to reveal the blissful picture of the puzzle, they wouldn’t fit. Close, but not quite. No matter how much he attempted to force them into place, they wouldn’t go, because they were all just a shade off the mark.
Yes, he was going to be a father, and that thought was terrifying and exciting and wonderful. But he wouldn’t be sleeping down the hall from his daughter, ready to leap to his feet if she cried in the night. Hell, no, he would be in the apartment next door…alone…oblivious to his baby girl’s needs.
He wouldn’t live in a big, sunny home. He was sentenced to existing in a set of rooms that had a solid wall separating him from his child and her mother.
Brenda. His best friend, his buddy, his pal, who had devoted time and energy to helping him get his new off
ice in shape, was so thrilled about his new adventure that her eyes virtually sparkled whenever they discussed his plans.
Brenda. He loved her. But, as she was so quick to point out when the subject was addressed, he wasn’t in love with her, nor was she in love with him.
Such a small word, in, two little letters that represented the difference between him embracing every hope and dream he’d had for the future and where his reality really lay…just short, so close but not quite, an ice cube struggling to the surface time and again and not really getting anywhere by doing so.
MacAllister, he thought, get a grip. Get over it. Get with the program. The cards were dealt, he knew what he had in his hand, what was his and what wasn’t.
And somehow, for his sake, as well as for Brenda’s and the baby’s, he had to make this work, find something to hang on to in this jumbled situation, a measure of happiness that would be enough to sustain him through the years ahead. Somehow.
Richard glanced up and saw Brenda at the far side of the terrace, scanning the crowd. He stood and waved to her, saw the smile that lit up her face as she waved back, then watched as she began to weave her way through the tables to join him.
God, she was beautiful, Richard thought. She was woman personified, the very essence of femininity. She waddled when she walked, her protruding stomach announcing to the world that she carried a miracle within her. A baby. His baby. Their baby girl.
The sunlight on the terrace was pouring over her like a golden waterfall, making her dark hair glisten and her skin glow. One of her delicate hands was resting protectively on her stomach in an instinctive desire to shield their child from harm. She was wearing a pretty pink dress with tiny pleats across the bodice and a soft bow at the neck. So lovely.
And, oh, man, he was so glad to see her.
Richard hurried to meet Brenda, wanting, needing, to close the distance between them. He was vaguely aware that with each step he took the cold fist in his gut was replaced with a soothing warmth that was causing a genuine smile to cover his face.
“Hi,” Brenda said, when Richard reached her. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting long. The traffic was awful. I guess the Christmas shopping madness has begun.”
Richard placed one hand on Brenda’s cheek and looked directly into her eyes.
“Brenda, I—” He cleared his throat as strange and foreign emotions assaulted him. “I just want to tell you that…that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. You truly are, Bren. I know you think you’re fat and clumsy and…but you’re not. You’re exquisite.”
“Thank you, Richard,” Brenda whispered. “Oh, yes, thank you more than I can say, because I feel like a blimp, a whale, a— I’m beautiful?”
Richard kissed her on the forehead.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice gritty. “Come sit down. I found a table in the sunshine just for you, but if you’re chilly, just say the word and we’ll move inside for lunch.”
“Oh, no, it’s so nice out here,” Brenda said as they walked to the table. Richard assisted her with her chair, then settled on his own opposite her. “The sun feels heavenly. You know me so well, Richard. You knew I’d prefer to eat outside if it was possible, and this table is perfect. It’s as though the sun is shining just for us.”
“Yep,” he said. “I told it to.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, laughing.
“Want a serving of trivia, my sweet?” Richard said, folding his arms over his chest.
“Yes, yes, yes,” she said. “We’ve been so busy it’s been ages since we’ve shared any trivia. First, though, I want to say that you look very dashing in your suit and tie, sir. What was on your agenda that called for you to wear your all-grown-up clothes?”
Richard laughed. “My big-boy duds, huh? I had a meeting with a banker to apply for a line of credit so I can bring in the computers I need when I need them.”
“And?”
Richard snapped his fingers. “Piece of cake. I signed the papers, and it’s a done deal.”
“Oh, Richard, that’s wonderful,” Brenda said, clasping her hands beneath her chin. “This is all so exciting. At the rate you’re going your new baby, MacAllister Technical Services, will be born before my baby.”
Richard frowned. “They’re both ours, Bren. The new company, Baby Girl MacAllister—they’re both ours. You know that, don’t you?”
“Well, yes, all right, Richard,” Brenda said, matching his frown. “I didn’t mean to upset you or— Are you feeling okay? You look so tired, and I’m worried that you’re trying to do too much.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “You’re worried about me? We’re concentrating on you and that bundle you’re lugging around there.”
“You’re just as important as I am, Richard,” Brenda said, “and just as important as Flash. We’re all in this together, you know.”
Together, Richard thought. No, not quite. Close, very close, but not quite.
“Right,” he said. “Back to the trivia. Madam, I want you to know that the first toilet ever seen on television was on Leave It to Beaver.”
“No kidding?” the waitress said, appearing at their table. “I loved that show when I was a kid. I used to drive my mom nuts because I kept telling her she should wear dresses and pearls to cook dinner like Beaver’s mother. First toilet on the tube, huh? Amazing. So! What can I bring you folks for lunch? Oops. You don’t even have menus. I’ll be right back.”
The woman hurried away, and Brenda drew a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I have to order something that is totally salt free,” she said quietly. “Kara is a bit concerned about my blood pressure and the swelling in my feet and—
“Oh, darn it, Richard, I can’t even go Christmas shopping because Kara said I have to stay off my feet and order gifts from catalogs, and she might insist that I cut back on my hours at the travel agency, but that isn’t for certain yet, and…when I come home from work I’m not to cook, or clean, or do the laundry. I’m just supposed to sit there like a lump with my feet up and… I was doing all right with all of this until I saw you, but now I’m falling apart and…oh, God, Richard, I’m so frightened that something is going to happen to our baby.”
A chill swept through Richard with such force he had to take a sharp breath against the sudden pain. His hands shot out and gripped Brenda’s, holding them tightly on the top of the table as he leaned toward her.
“Listen to me,” he said, his heart racing. “Everything is going to be fine. We’ll follow Kara’s orders to the letter, do everything she says. It just rips me up to see you so upset, so scared, Bren. You’re not alone. I’m here, right here with you, and I always will be. We’ll get through this, you’ll see. We’ll do it…together.”
“Yes.” Brenda produced a rather wobbly smile. “Yes…together. Everything will be all right…as long as we’re together.”
Eleven
Richard opened Brenda’s apartment door, hesitated, then closed the door again. He strode across the room to the sofa, where Brenda was sitting with her feet propped up on the coffee table.
“Are you positive that you won’t let me call someone from the family to come stay with you while I’m gone?” he said, frowning.
Brenda smiled up at him. “Richard, I’ll be perfectly fine here alone. I’m following Kara’s orders to the letter. Right? I’ve only been working half days for the past week. Right? Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and the agency is closed, so I’ll be sitting here vegging. Right? And you’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Right?”
“Right,” he said, dragging one hand through his hair. “I wish your folks were arriving from Greece today instead of tomorrow night.”
“They couldn’t get plane reservations for any earlier. They let it go too late and—” Brenda laughed. “They should be organized like their daughter.
“Richard, shoo. You’re going to miss your plane and have to take a different one. Then you’ll be late arriving in San Francisco, and you’ll
miss your meeting with the hotshot computer ace you want to entice to come work for you. He’s only going to be in the airport for a few hours between flights before he wings his way home for Christmas.”
“Yeah, well, it’s because of the holidays that I couldn’t get another flight back here until tomorrow afternoon.” Richard shook his head. “No, I don’t need that guy all that much. I’m not going. Nope. No way.”
“Oh, good grief,” Brenda said, rolling her eyes heavenward. “I promise that I’ll hardly move while you’re gone. You bought me my very own video of Casablanca and enough magazines and books to last me six months. The refrigerator and cupboards are full and… Richard, your concern is so dear and I really appreciate it, but I’m going to be just fine. Now…go.”
“Well…”
“I’m going to sit right here and look at our beautiful Christmas tree,” Brenda went on. “Our daughter is going to adore hearing the story about how you were decorating the tree, with me giving directions from my perch here on the sofa, and when you put the angel on the top, you looked at me and said, ‘Let’s name our baby Angela, because she’s going to be our little angel.’ Ohhh, that is so-o-o sweet.”
Richard laughed. “And you get weepy every time you think about it. Okay, Bren, I’ll go on this junket. But, you have my cell phone number, the hotel number and my pager number.” He leaned over and kissed Brenda on the forehead, then patted her stomach. “’Bye, Angela Jane. Be a good girl for your mommy.”
“My mother is going to be so thrilled when we tell her we’re naming the baby Jane, after her.”
“I’m surprised she was thrilled when you finally told her that I’m the baby’s father. She actually said that she and your father have always liked me? Think I’ll be a great daddy?”
“Yep,” Brenda said, nodding. “Goodbye, Richard.”
Richard hunkered down next to the sofa and looked directly into Brenda’s eyes.
“I’ll be thinking about you and Angela,” he said. “Take care of yourself, Bren.”
Baby: MacAllister-Made Page 13
