The Christmas Baby Bump

by Lynne Marshall

On Wednesday morning, Stephanie hung up the phone after a long conversation with her mother. She’d used the excuse of being on call—which wasn’t completely untrue—for not showing for Thanksgiving. If things followed the usual routine, her sister would be on the phone within the next ten minutes, and Mary was ruthless when it came to arm-twisting. All the more reason to get started with her appointments.

  Phil had surprised her last night with both his technical skill and tender banter with his brother. The more she got to know him, the more she suspected his playboy reputation was just a cover. Helping out with Robbie’s exam hadn’t been nearly as bad as she’d thought it would be, another surprise. Maybe she was getting used to him. She’d watched the boy sleep, and yearning had clutched her heart. If only her son could be alive.

  She closed her eyes and bit her lip. Someone tapped on the door.

  “Your next patient is ready.”

  Thank heavens for work.

  By midmorning, Amy delivered the latest batch of lab reports and special tests.

  Stephanie shuffled through the stack with an eye out for two in particular. The first was great news—it was just an ovarian cyst for Ms. Winkler. The next report wasn’t nearly as welcome. Celeste Conroy’s Pap smear showed abnormal cells. She picked up the phone.

  After she’d calmed the woman down, she suggested her plan. “I’d like to perform a colposcopy, which is a fancy way of looking at your cervix up close with a bright light and magnifying glass.”

  The proactive next step went over better than the bombshell dysplasia news.

  “And while I’m examining your cervix, I’ll take a tiny biopsy of that questionable area. This will give us a better idea of exactly what we’re dealing with.”

  After a brief silence, several questions flew from the young pregnant woman’s mouth. Stephanie answered each as she was able.

  “The exam is not threatening to your pregnancy, though after I do the biopsy, there may be some mild cramping and light bleeding. We’d have to monitor you carefully to make sure the bleeding was from the biopsy and not from the pregnancy, but the risk is extremely low that your baby will be in jeopardy.”

  After a few more minutes of convincing the patient to arrange an appointment on Friday, the day after Thanksgiving, she hung up.

  And now she had a good reason to stay in Santa Barbara for Thanksgiving. She needed to be well rested and in top form on Friday. Mary could twist her arm all she wanted, but she wouldn’t give in to Thanksgiving dinner in the desert.

  Her next call was pure pleasure. “Ms. Winkler? This is Dr. Bennett from Midcoast Medical. I’ve got your ultrasound results back, and you can rest assured that your enlarged ovary is nothing more than a pesky cyst.”

  She smiled when her patient sang out a loud “Hallelujah!”

  By lunchtime it occurred to Stephanie that she hadn’t seen Phil in the clinic all morning. She nibbled at her microwaved plate of food, and half-heartedly chatted with a couple of coworkers. It also occurred to her that Thanksgiving was going to be one lonely day. She’d hole up in her hotel room and watch a stack of old DVDs and pretend it was just another day. Maybe she’d eat an open-faced turkey sandwich with dressing and gravy, with a side of cranberries from the deli around the corner, too. Oh, and she’d watch the famous New York Thanksgiving Day parade on TV, she mused with a jumble of faraway thoughts.

  “I bet you’re wondering where I’ve been,” Phil said, standing beside her.

  “What makes you think I’ve even noticed?” she said, glancing over her shoulder, going along with his playful tone. “We noticed you weren’t around,” one of the two nurses sharing the community lounge table chimed in. As far as Stephanie could tell, Phil had all the ladies in the clinic wrapped around his finger.

  His quirked brow and goofy expression of “see what I’m saying?” made her laugh. It felt good.

  “Thank you, Tamara and Stacy,” he said. “I’m glad someone noticed.”

  He sat next to Stephanie, edging out Jon’s nurse, though there was plenty of room on the other side of the table, then unpacked a couple of shrimp tacos from his brown bag. “You know, that’s what I like about you. You’re not under my spell.”

  She almost spat out her soda. “You have a spell?” She was walking on thin ice because she knew without a doubt he did have a special something that very well could be called a spell, and that she was most likely already under it…especially since their kiss.

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “He’s got a spell,” the nurses said together.

  She laughed and shook her head. “Well, I don’t know about a spell, but I do know you’ve got a jelly stain on your shirt.”

  He pulled in his chin and glanced downward. “Oh, that. It’s probably from when I made Robbie’s sandwich this morning.”

  With each day, and all the little details she noticed about him, Phil became more irresistible.

  Not that she was interested or anything. “So where were you?”

  “Where else? The preschool. Seems like it’s my second home. How does Roma do it?”

  “Don’t let this go to your head, Phil, but I think you’re doing a pretty good job of pinch-hitting for your parents.”

  “They’re due back tonight, and I’m counting the hours.”

  The nurses finished their lunch, and announced they were just about to take a walk before the afternoon clinic opened when René Munroe appeared, complete with swaddled baby in her arms and Jon at her side.

  “Hi, Dr. Munroe!” one of the nurses said, rushing over to look at the newborn. “Oh, he’s adorable. May I hold him?”

  “Sure,” the dark-haired René said, glowing with new-mom pride.

  Phil popped up and took a peek under the blanket. “Hey, he looks just like those pictures.”

  René rolled her eyes. “Oh, gosh, has Jon been boring everyone with pictures?”

  Phil nodded, but the nurses quickly protested, “No! We love baby pictures.”

  “Oh, hey, René, this is Stephanie Bennett, the doc we hired to cover your patients,” Jon said, looking a bit abashed and obviously wanting to change the subject.

  They greeted each other and Stephanie already felt as though she knew René from working in her office. While Jon passed the baby around, Stephanie discussed Celeste Conroy’s abnormal Pap smear with René and her plans for following up. When René agreed with the next step, Stephanie felt much more confident.

  “Would you like me to call and reassure her that I’m in total agreement?” René said.

  “That would be wonderful.”

  “Okay, last chance to hold Evan before I take René out to lunch,” Jon said, having taken back his son but seeming ready to share him with anyone who wanted. “Stephanie?”

  He offered the teddy-bear-patterned bundle of blanket to her and she froze. Oh, no, what should she do? Would it be completely awkward to refuse? Her pulse sputtered in her chest, and her ears rang. She liked these people and didn’t want to insult them.

  “Okay,” she said, feigning a smile. She held Evan with stiff arms, away from her chest. “Aren’t you something?” Memories of her son gurgling and cooing hit so fast and hard she found it impossible to breathe. She blinked back the images as her heart stumbled, and she handed the baby back to René, trying her best to disguise her quivery voice. “You must be so proud.”

  The huge, beaming smile on René’s face gave the answer. She cuddled the baby to her heart and kissed his cheek. “I wuv this wittle guy.”

  Jon laughed and scratched his nose. “Anyone know a cure for a highly educated woman who suddenly starts talking baby talk?”

  The nurses giggled. “It’s a requirement of motherhood, Doc,” one of them said.

  Flushed and edgy, Stephanie willed her hands to stop shaking. She’d looked into those beautiful baby gray eyes and had seen Justin. She’d glanced up to find Phil intently watching her as her lungs clutched at each breath.

  Somehow she made it through the goodbyes, bu
t as soon as the couple left she headed for the back door and the tranquil promise of the yard. She needed to breathe, to get hold of herself.

  She was staring at the small bubbling fountain and listening to chattering birds in the tree when a hand grasped her arm. It was Phil. He’d picked up on what had just happened. Hell, she’d been so obvious, anyone would have noticed her fumbling attempt at acting normal…if they hadn’t been so distracted with the baby.

  “I was wondering what you’re doing tomorrow,” he said.

  She welcomed the change in subject, even if it was another sticky topic. How should she best phrase the fact she had no plans for Thanksgiving and not come off as pitiful? Sure, she could go to Palm Desert, but it wasn’t going to happen.

  She swallowed and said, “I’m having a quiet day.”

  He glanced thoughtfully at her. “My stepmother is a fantastic cook, and she promised me a Thanksgiving dinner to die for as I’ve been taking care of Robbie and all, and I thought you might like to be my plus one.”

  “Plus one?”

  “My guest. What do you say? Great food. Even better company. You’ll like my dad.” He tilted his head, and his crescent-shaped eyes looked very inviting. “Robbie will be so happy to see them that he’ll leave you alone. I promise.” Phil was the distraction she needed—a guy completely unaware of her past, who didn’t ask questions, and with one not-so-subtle thing on his mind.

  Did she really need to think about it? Hotel room. DVDs. Deli sandwich. Or plus one.

  “You know what? I’d really like that.”

  The full-out smile he delivered assured her she’d not only made the right decision but she’d also made his afternoon. When in the past three years had she been able to make that claim about a man? And it felt pretty darn good.

  He looked as if he wanted to kiss her again, and maybe that’s exactly what she needed right now, a kiss to make her forget, but his beeper went off and after a quick glance, a forlorn look replaced the charm. He sighed. “It’s the preschool, again.”

  Late that afternoon, Phil appeared at Stephanie’s office door, looking agitated.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “The damn weather.”

  She glanced out her window at another perfectly clear blue autumn sky then back at Phil. “Looks pretty good to me.”

  “I’m talking about Maui. They’re having a terrible storm and the return flight has been canceled until Friday. Looks like Thanksgiving dinner is off.”

  She couldn’t deny the disappointment. Ever since he’d invited her, she’d felt a buzz of expectation, a curiosity about his family, and mouthwatering anticipation of great food. Now a storm on a tropical island had changed everything. “How disappointing…for them. I’m sure they’re eager to get home to Robbie and all.”

  He snapped his fingers. “I’ve got an idea. Come to my house and I’ll order a turkey dinner.” His eyes lit up. “It’ll be fun, and you can help me warm things up. What do you say?

  She’d swung from one end of the emotional pendulum to the opposite over this Thanksgiving, and here was yet a new twist. Hotel. DVDs. Deli sandwich. Or spend an afternoon with a gorgeous guy…and Robbie?

  It all came down to one desire. Did she want to have a life again? Or go on living in a vacuum. Hotel. DVDs. Deli sandwich…or…

  There really wasn’t a decision to make. “What time?”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ON THANKSGIVING morning, Stephanie put extra effort into getting dressed. She wanted to look good, but not overdo it. She opted for casual with jeans and boots, a pumpkin-colored top with a flashy hip belt, and a multi-fall-colored knit scarf to ward off the cooler weather.

  She’d stopped last night at the bakery she’d recently discovered and got one of the last two pumpkin pies baked that afternoon, the kind of whipped cream you sprayed from a can, and a bottle of deep red wine to go with the turkey. She had no intention of impressing Phil with her culinary skills. Heck, she was living in a hotel, how could she? And wasn’t he the one who’d invited her to dinner?

  She arrived at his house just before noon, impressed with the rolling brown hills and secluded homes scattered across them. The sprawling country farmhouse was the last type of home she’d expect to see Phil living in. In the distance, and far behind her, the ocean sparkled as if the bold sun had scattered glitter over it. She took a deep breath of fresh air, savoring the special view, suddenly aware that her insides were letting go of that usual tight knot.

  Santa Barbara had a completely different kind of beauty from the tall purple mountains that encased her desert home, and the flat breadth between them. Both were special, but the ocean added that extra touch with which, in her opinion, no amount of saguaro cactus or Joshua trees could compete.

  With an odd sense of contentment folding in around her, she tapped lightly on his door before ringing the bell. After a short time the door swung open, with Phil grinning and with Robbie riding piggyback.

  “Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Come in.”

  The spacious living room, with a stone fireplace and wall-long French doors and windows, was bright and open. The light-colored hardwood floors were offset by high, dark beamed and arched ceilings. The family room opened into a modern kitchen complete with cooking island and expensive-looking Italian tile floors.

  Toys were everywhere. Pillows and books were scattered around the family room, and furniture was obviously askew.

  Phil looked happy, and for a confirmed bachelor he was doing a fine job at playing stand-in father. “We were just horsing around, weren’t we, shorty?”

  Robbie giggled and nodded, and once Phil released him, he ran off toward a beach ball, blissfully unaware of Stephanie invading his territory.

  Maybe she was getting used to being around Robbie, because he hadn’t set off any internal alarms today. Or maybe she was distracted by the attractive guy right in front of her. He wore jeans and a white tailored Western-styled shirt with the collar open, revealing a hint of light brown chest hair. And he kept smiling at her, his white straight teeth like something out of a magazine ad.

  “You look great,” he said. “As always.”

  The compliment stopped her. At the end of her marriage her husband had thought she was despicable. Couldn’t stand to look at her and hadn’t minded telling her so. Knowing that, on top of every horrible thought she’d already had about herself, had almost made her lose the will to live. She shook her head, refusing to go there again. She wanted to move forward and she couldn’t very well do that by constantly looking over her shoulder, remembering the bad times.

  Phil had just told her she looked great. Did he tell all his dates that? “Thank you.” She felt her cheeks heat up.

  “I mean it.” He pinned her with a no-nonsense gaze.

  “I believe you.” Did she? Did she have the nerve to tell him how fantastic he looked, too? “Good.”

  The antsy feeling made her need to change the subject. “This house is amazing,” she said.

  “Thanks. I’ve only been here a couple of years, but I like to call it home.”

  “Oh, here’s the pie and some other stuff,” she said.

  He took her few items into the kitchen, reading the wine label on the way. Instead of sitting, she followed him, sliding her hand over the cool granite countertops and marveling at the state-of-the-art stainless-steel appliances. This was the kind of home a person dreamed about but never intended to actually live in. And what was a bachelor like Phil doing here?

  “This seems so unlike you,” she said.

  “Tell that to my Realtor. I spent a year looking for it. This is the place I intend to stay in.”

  “A guy like you?”

  “Hey, give me a break. I may not be interested in settling down, but a house, well, I have no qualms about where I want to live for the rest of my life.”

  “We really don’t know a thing about each other, do we?” she said, smiling.

  His eyes brightened to daylight blue. �
��Here’s something else to surprise you.” He washed his hands and opened a cupboard. “I’m cooking today.”

  The undeniable aroma of turkey hit her nostrils. “I thought you were ordering in?”

  “I got to thinking, how hard could cooking a turkey be? My butcher gave me instructions, and they didn’t sound difficult.”

  How many more surprises did he have up his sleeve? “Well, it smells great.”

  “Hey, you’re gonna love the dressing. I made Roma fax the recipe to me last night.”

  She laughed. For the first time in ages, she felt excited about Thanksgiving.

  He washed a few vegetables in the sink. “What would you like to drink?”

  “Water is fine.” Heaven forbid she should have a glass of wine, relax, and let her guard down.

  He delivered her a glass as she sat on one of the stools by the island. “You’ve got to admit this beats eating in your hotel room, right?”

  She gazed across the comfortable and stylish home and nodded. “You win. Hands down, this beats my hotel. I feel like I’m in a House Beautiful commercial.”

  He smiled, obviously liking her description of his home.

  “These are from my garden.” He held up a handful of new carrots, and medium-size tomatoes.

  “You’re kidding me,” she said. “You garden, too?”

  “What can I say? I like being in the sun. I like digging in the dirt and pulling weeds. Don’t tell anyone at work, they’d never let me live it down.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” she said, taking a sip of water and fighting off an ever-growing crush on her surprising host.

  “How are you at mashing potatoes?” he asked, just as something hit the back of her butt with a plunk. She jerked around, it was the beach ball, and Robbie had a guilty expression on his face.

  “Hey, remember what I said about throwing that thing around in here,” Phil chided Robbie.

  “Outside, Pill,” the boy said. “Go. Peez?”

  “I’m busy right now.”

  “Now!” Robbie said, throwing the ball at Stephanie and hitting her stomach this time.