A Pregnancy, a Party & a Proposal

by Teresa Carpenter

Yet he took little comfort in the thought.

  Never would he have contemplated it of Camilla either. He couldn’t conceive of it himself, so he had a hard time putting the unconscionable act in anyone’s head. Then again, for Camilla the baby had been a means to an end—a tool to get what she wanted, never meant to see life.

  And he had to put that aside.

  The past had no bearing on the current situation. He needed to get past it and move on.

  Desperate for a break, he took the next exit and pulled into the parking lot of an all-night diner. The waitress gave him a choice of the many empty booths. He slid into one next to the window, a distance away from the other two occupied tables.

  “Coffee, please.”

  “Anything else?” the waitress asked. Young, slightly plump, with a high ponytail and pretty features, she waited patiently for his response. Her name tag read “April.”

  Had he eaten? He scrubbed his hands over his face, barely able to string two thoughts together. Whatever. He had no appetite.

  “That’s all, thanks.”

  She nodded and wandered away.

  Ray turned his gaze to the window and got smacked with his own reflection. He looked haggard, but otherwise the same as he had this morning. That was just wrong. His life had changed; surely his appearance should show it?

  April returned. She set down a big mug of steaming coffee and slid a plate with a large slice of chocolate cream pie in front of him.

  He looked up at her. “I didn’t order this.”

  “I know, but we’re known for our chocolate cream pie. And you look a mite troubled. Pie always helps me when I’m troubled.”

  Looking at the whipped cream piled high, he felt his appetite come rushing back. He tipped his chin up. “Thanks.”

  “You want to talk about it?”

  He tasted the coffee, hummed his approval as he shook his head. “Anything but.”

  “Okay, then.” She leaned against the facing booth. “You’re that director guy, aren’t you?”

  “I’ve made a few movies,” he acknowledged. Usually he’d politely shut her down, but she’d brought him pie and he welcomed the distraction. “Are you interested in movies?”

  “I like a good flick, but my passion is fashion design.”

  He recalled his trip to Eve’s and seeing Lauren’s transformation. Passion summed it up. “Well, April, that’s a fine profession.”

  A huge smile lit up her face. “Let me know if that family gets too loud.” She winked. “I’ll bring you another piece of pie.”

  She wandered off and he glanced at the family: a mother, father, and three kids somewhere between the ages of five and eight. They chattered and laughed as they ate. The oldest, a boy, was telling the story of some ride where he’d been scared but his dad had been there so he’d felt brave and lifted his arms and felt like he was flying.

  “And then I got scared,” the dad said. “Because I thought you were going to fly away.”

  At that point the mom sent the kids off to the bathroom. Once they’d trooped off, she murmured something to the dad and they shared a laugh and a kiss.

  Their unity got to Ray. Their love and camaraderie at the end of a long day. It shouted family with a capital F. And he realized he wanted that—the love, the togetherness.

  April brought him a full to-go cup along with his bill. He left her a hefty tip. Time to head back. Running only worked so long before you had to step up and face what you were running from.

  * * *

  “Mamó.” Lauren’s voice shook. “I’m bleeding.”

  “Oh, my dear.” Mamó came from the kitchen to take Lauren’s hands and lead her to the couch. Sitting next to Lauren, she held her hands over her belly. “May I?”

  Lauren nodded.

  Mamó laid her hands on Lauren’s belly and concentrated. Heart tripping wildly, Lauren waited breathlessly.

  “I sense no distress,” Mamó announced, and Lauren allowed herself to breathe. “Is it heavy bleeding?” Mamó asked. “Are you in pain?”

  “Spotting, mostly. No pain. But it’s not good, is it?” Lauren squeezed the words through a sand-crusted throat. She wished she’d been to the doctor, had some indication of what this might mean. “I’ve always heard bleeding is bad when you’re pregnant.”

  “Some things are natural. But much has been learned since I had my babies. You will feel better if you see a doctor.”

  Lauren squeezed Mamó’s hands. “I will, yes.”

  “Then we will go. You have been through much these last few days. I’m so sorry for my part in causing you distress.”

  “Mamó—”

  “No.” The older woman shook her head, swiped at a tear. “Ray was right. It is not okay. I’ve worked myself into a state, wanting great-grandbabies, but it’s not fair of me to pin my happiness on Ray’s life. Seeing the problems I’ve caused, I realize it’s not healthy for either of us.” She patted Lauren’s fingers. “You stay here. I’ll get Ellie and your purse and we’ll be on our way.” She bustled off.

  Lauren wrapped her arms around her babies and sat perfectly still. If she didn’t move, nothing could happen to them. Where was Ray? She longed for his strength and support—could really do with some of his take-charge attitude right about now.

  Mamó returned with Ellie and her purse and jacket. Ellie was dragging Lauren’s luggage.

  “Hey, I’m thinking positive. In case you’re good to travel you’ll have to leave from the hospital.”

  Oh, right. Lauren had made a flight reservation after her assistant had called with an emergency. Lauren had handled it, but she’d decided she needed to go home. Ray didn’t want her here and she was needed in California. It was after she’d finished packing that she’d noticed the spotting.

  She’d hoped to see Ray before she left, but she really couldn’t think about all that right now. She was too worried about the twins to focus on anything else.

  Mamó and Ellie bundled her up. And they were off. Lauren tagged Ray with a text. Yes, it was cowardly, but she didn’t feel like fielding a lot of questions she didn’t have answers for.

  And he should be here, damn it.

  Suddenly chilled, she shivered. All night she’d lain awake, wondering what his “processing” might result in. Would their children—oh, goodness, she still reeled at the reality of twins—would their twins bring them closer or drive them apart?

  Perhaps that was her answer. Never had she felt so alone as she had sleeping by herself in his bed last night. Not that she’d slept much.

  She should be more understanding. Recalling her own shock and her struggle to adjust to the life-altering news, she should have a clue what he was going through. And she did. But it didn’t stop her from resenting his continued silence.

  It might be unfair of her to think so, but there was a difference in being uncommunicative when the other party existed in blissful ignorance than when they waited in breathless anxiety. He’d been the one to pull back. The way she saw it, he needed to be the one to come to her.

  Now would be good. She really needed him.

  * * *

  I’m bleeding. Mamó is taking me to the hospital.

  Fear punched into Ray’s gut as he read Lauren’s text. He immediately tried her phone, but she didn’t answer. Damn it.

  He dialed his grandmother. She answered on the first ring.

  “Mamó, how is she?”

  “I don’t get any sense of distress from the babies. And I believe I would if they were in true danger. But to be safe we’re taking Lauren to Emergency.”

  “Let me talk to her.” Muffled voices rumbled on the other end of the line.

  “She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

  Damn it. Add anger to the fear and dread forming a ball in his
chest. His fault. He shouldn’t have put her off with texts last night and this morning.

  “Put her on.”

  “She’s not shutting you out,” Mamó assured him. “She doesn’t want to talk because she doesn’t have any answers. She’s holding it together, but she’s scared. It doesn’t help that she’s out of her element here in New York.”

  “Ask her what I can do.”

  This time he heard Lauren answer clearly. “Just tell him to get here.”

  “She said—”

  “I heard,” he cut in. “Text me the address. I’m on my way.”

  Ray explained the situation to the major’s aide, thanked him for his assistance, and hopped in the car waiting for him. He gave the driver the address and instructions to hurry. As the car raced toward Queens he kept his mind off worrying about Lauren and the babies by looking ahead.

  He’d need to get Fred and Ethel to baby-proof the house and grounds. Maybe they’d have a recommendation for a nanny. Or perhaps Lauren knew someone.

  No doubt she’d want to be a hands-on mom, but he wanted someone available to help so she didn’t get worn out. It was a given she’d continue to work.

  Calculating dates, he figured Lauren would be due in seven months, give or take a week or so, which put him a month into filming here in New York. Maybe he should chuck the location shots?

  His shoulders tensed at the notion. There was an authenticity that came with location filming that couldn’t be captured on a back lot or in a substitute spot. He’d figure something out.

  Because he wasn’t missing the birth of his children.

  And this—whatever it ended up being—was just a blip. Mamó would have sensed it if something were wrong. Battling another surge of fear, he clung to the fact she hadn’t felt any fetal distress. Everything would be all right.

  The car hit the bridge, and he made a proclamation and a prayer. He had to believe.

  The alternative just wasn’t acceptable.

  The driver changed lanes, cutting off a delivery truck with inches to spare. Ray gritted his teeth and held on. They couldn’t move fast enough for him. He hated not knowing. Hated not being there for Lauren. How he longed to have her safe in his arms right now.

  Again, his fault. He’d been punishing her for...what? Thinking of herself first? Adjusting to the fact she was going to be a mother? Letting him deal with his grandmother and his past before learning he was going to be a father?

  What a hero he was.

  Finally he spotted his destination. The driver pulled right up in front of the emergency room at Queens Hospital and Ray hopped out. He spoke briefly with Mamó and Ellie, then waved down a nurse. He recognized the woman from the neighborhood, and for once he was happy for the connection as she personally escorted him to the cubicle where Lauren was being treated.

  “How is she?” he asked, his heart running a marathon in his chest.

  “The doctor has seen Lauren and she’s fine. The bleeding was due to some natural adjustments of the uterus. Nothing to worry about. But to be on the safe side he ordered an ultrasound. The technician is in with Lauren now.”

  “Thanks.” Relief left him breathless.

  “No problem.” Arriving at a cubicle, she pushed the curtain aside. “Mr. Donovan,” she announced. She patted him on the arm, said, “Congratulations, Daddy,” and left.

  “Ray.” Lauren gave a glad cry of relief and reached for his hand.

  He stepped forward, wrapped her fingers in his. “The nurse said you were fine.”

  She lay on a gurney while the technician ran a scope over her belly and monitored the machine next to her.

  “That’s what they tell me. More important, the babies are fine. Look.”

  First he leaned down and kissed her on the top of her head, disguising his huge relief. Seeing her animation, touching her, reassured him more than any medical niceties could.

  He glanced at the picture she indicated on the screen but failed to make out anything until the technician directed his attention to two little heads and two sets of feet, showed him the two beating hearts.

  He slowly sank down on the side of the gurney next to Lauren, overcome by this visual evidence of his children. The twins were no more than a couple of inches big, but they packed a big wallop.

  The picture blipped as Lauren scooted over, making more room for him. “Pretty awesome, huh?”

  “Yes.” The word terrifying came to mind. “I want to be involved.”

  It was a bald statement.

  Her gaze flew to the technician. “We don’t need to talk about that now.”

  For once he didn’t care who heard his business. He’d never been more certain of anything in his life. “I’ve been an ass. I’m sorry.”

  “Stop.” Lauren tightened her grip on his hand.

  “I’ll just check with the doctor.” The technician handed her a couple of tissues for the gel on her tummy and made a discreet exit.

  Ray took the tissues and wiped her clean, his touch warm after the chill of the gel. “Lauren—”

  “No.” She laid a finger on his lips. “Before you go on I need to say something.”

  Needing to feel more in control, she tugged her sweater down and sat up.

  “Yes, I thought you were being a jerk, but I was wrong. And so were you. This is huge.” She waved at the blank screen that had so recently held images of their children. “We’re going to be parents. It’s important, and it’s not something to rush. I already made that mistake. And I’m sorry.”

  “I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

  “You were in shock. So was I. We need time, both of us, to come to grips with this change in our lives. And I mean more than a few hours—possibly more than a few days. And that’s okay, because we have another seven months to figure everything out.”

  He lifted a sandy brow. “Ms. Clipboard? You’re not going to be able to wait seven months for anything.”

  The corner of her mouth kicked up at that. “Probably not. But I know I want to do this right. And rushing isn’t the way to do that.”

  “No rushing around for you, young lady,” the doctor said, entering the cubicle. “You’re carrying precious cargo.”

  He introduced himself to Ray.

  “How are the twins, Doctor?” Ray asked. “Anything we should be concerned about?”

  “Everything looks normal.” The doctor included Lauren in his answer. “You’ll want to see your doctor when you get home. In the meantime try to keep stress to a minimum—which means no rushing. But you’re healthy...the babies are healthy. I see no reason why you can’t fly.”

  “Thank you, Doctor.” His assurances finally allowed her to relax.

  “Congratulations to the both of you.” He shook Ray’s hand and departed.

  “Well, that was good to hear.” Ray helped her up. “Now, let’s get you home.”

  “Listen, I’m not going back to Mamó’s.” She stood and looped the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Something came up at work so I booked a flight earlier. I can still make it, so I’m going to go. It’s for the best. It’ll give both of us the extra space we need.” She kissed his cheek.

  “Wait, you can’t go.” He followed her out into the hall, pulled her to a stop. “We’re just starting to actually communicate.”

  “We’ll communicate better in Hollywood, when we’re both back in the real world.”

  “You can’t leave. You just got out of Emergency.

  “And the doctor said I’m okay to fly.”

  “Come on, Lauren,” he implored her. “It’s not like you to pout.”

  “I don’t pout.”

  Moving around him, she moved toward the lobby, where Mamó and Ellie waited. His arguments made her more determined to leave. She pulled her phone o
ut and texted the cab company she’d called while waiting for the technician.

  “What would you call running away? I thought you were done playing games?”

  Serene mood shattered, she swung on him. “This isn’t playtime for me, Ray. I’m not a paper doll. I’ve been there, done that, didn’t like it. I won’t apologize for making my own decisions.” Not wanting to go there, she dropped her head on his chest, leaned on his strength. “You need to finish your visit with your grandmother, and I just want to go home.”

  His arms came around her, his hand fisting in her hair. “I don’t need more time, Lauren. This scare has confirmed my feelings. I want to be a part of my children’s lives. I’ll let you go now. But factor me into your thinking—because I’m not going away.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  RAY STOOD IN THE middle of his room, surrounded by emptiness. All evidence of Lauren’s presence was gone. Only her scent lingered. Honeysuckle and soap. He stared at the too-small bed where even she had defied the rules she’d set down, curling so sweetly into his arms.

  He didn’t spend the night with women. And he didn’t bring them home. Those two steps prevented any misguided sense of intimacy from developing between him and his companions. Those two decrees were the bedrock of his rigidly practiced relationship controls, followed by:

  Never let sex control a decision.

  Never get personal.

  Never have unprotected sex.

  Those few restrictions had helped him live an uncomplicated life for the last fifteen years. Yet from the very beginning Lauren had slipped past his shields. She’d blown through the first two in one night.

  You couldn’t get any more personal than having family over for Thanksgiving. He should never have invited them...her...not even to drag Garrett out of his funk. But, hey, he’d figured he had his attraction for her under control. Heck, she’d irritated him as much as she’d turned him on—if not more. And her family on the premises should have guaranteed nothing was going to happen.

  Best sex he’d ever had.

  It hadn’t mattered that they’d been in the laundry room, or that her parents had been down the hall. One smart remark too many had sparked the flame of passion, incinerating the barrier of restraint, creating an urgency not to be denied.