“You haven’t even heard what I have to say.” They got on the escalator to the second floor, where apparently they kept the baby furniture. This was foreign territory. “After Dr. Stevens mentioned that a twin pregnancy was considered slightly high risk, I did some research.”
He told her about the hospital in Dallas that specialized in high-risk births.
She frowned but didn’t say anything.
“Think about it,” he said. “Your obstetrician is in Dallas, and you work there. You’re there almost as much as you’re in Celebration. So, really, it only makes sense.”
They stepped off the escalator and followed the signs to the baby department.
“What if I go into labor in the middle of the night? It would be just my luck.”
“You can call me and I’ll come and get you.”
“I don’t know if it makes sense, since Celebration Memorial is five minutes from my condo. I’m having twins, not brain surgery. I’m healthy. Do we really need to make the twenty-minute drive?”
She pointed at a crib that was adorned with a yellow checked blanket turned down over yellow flannel sheets. “What do you think? Natural wood or white for the furniture?”
“Whatever you want,” he said. “Will you just agree to go for the tour? The hospital set it up for me as a professional courtesy.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Fair enough. The appointment isn’t until December 9, but that’ll be here sooner than you think.”
“Becca?”
They both turned at a woman’s voice behind them. Nick watched all the color drain out of Becca’s cheeks when she saw her sister, Rosanna.
“What are you doing here? Are you looking at baby furniture?”
“Rosanna, hi. No, we are shopping for a baby gift.”
“Oh, really? From my angle it looked like you were looking at furniture.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, but we aren’t.” The clipped tone Becca used with her sister was foreign and far from the sweet, gentle nature that he’d come to know.
“Who’s pregnant?” Rosanna was openly eyeing Becca’s stomach.
“Nobody you know. Rosanna, you remember Nick, don’t you?”
“Of course, the football game Friday night. Good to see you again. I have to run. If you do find yourself in the market for baby furniture, don’t forget I still have Victor’s stuff. It’s in the attic at Mom and Dad’s. I’m sure they’d be happy to get it down for you.”
Becca smiled at her sister, but there was an obvious lack of warmth. “I’ll keep that in mind. For future reference. See you later.”
Rosanna walked in one direction. Becca and Nick headed toward the exit.
As soon as she was sure Rosanna was out of earshot, Becca turned to Nick. “What was that? Of all the people to run into right now, right here? Why her? It’s as if she has radar that helps her zero in on finding me at my weakest.” She put a hand on Nick’s arm as if she needed to steady herself. He put his arm around her as they walked.
“Nick, I have to tell my parents. If they end up hearing the news from someone else first, they’ll never forgive me. It’s already going to be hard enough when they hear it from me. I just need to do it.”
He reached out and took her hand. “I’ll go with you. It’s all in how you present it. If you act like there’s something wrong, then they’ll take it badly. If we present it like the good news that it is, they’ll have to be happy for us.”
She scoffed and picked up a tiny pink outfit. “Obviously, you don’t know my parents.”
“Please, don’t take this wrong, but how old are you?”
Her brows furrowed. “We’re having twins, and you don’t even know how old I am. We are doing things backward, aren’t we?”
“We are two adults, and we are playing the cards that we’ve been dealt.”
She gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “I guess you’re right. And for the record, I’m twenty-five.”
“You are a grown woman. You have your own home. You’re supporting yourself. I know this will sound harsh, but your parents shouldn’t get to set the rules in this circumstance.”
She nodded, but she looked as if she was trying to convince herself that was true. “Do you really want to go with me? Because you don’t have to.”
“Of course I will. I—” A foreign feeling, that for a fleeting moment felt something like love, whooshed through him. He took a deep breath and realized it was just the protectiveness and an odd sort of possessiveness he felt for Becca. “We’re in this together. Come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”
They’d come in separate cars, since he was meeting her after work.
Out in the parking lot, Becca said, “Before you make up your mind about going with me, I have to warn you. My parents will insist that we get married.”
“That’s not their decision to make.”
“You’re right. But they’ll insist. So just be prepared. They like to pretend that they’re terribly old-fashioned, but really they’re just holier than thou. What’s ironic is they’ve both been unhappy in their own marriage for as far back as I can remember. They’ve done a very good job of pretending and putting up a front so that everyone else thinks they have this idealistic life. They’ve always held themselves a little above everyone else, which I believe is just a defense mechanism. Rosanna got pregnant with Victor when she was fifteen. She was always the wild child and I was the good girl. My parents pretended to be the happy couple. I guess we all just fell into those roles. My parents—it’s going to kill them to know that both of their daughters got pregnant outside of marriage.”
More pieces of the Becca puzzle, and they explained a lot. She was the good girl of the family who had probably jumped through hoops all of her life in order to win her parents’ approval. Rosanna was the one who pretended not to give a damn about what anyone thought. Nick knew how that was, pretending not to care. Pretty soon, it became a way of life. If you grew a tough hide, no one could hurt you. But to keep people from hurting you, you had to stop letting people in, and pretty soon people just stopped trying to reach you.
“Is Victor’s father involved?”
Becca shook her head. “He hasn’t been around at all. Victor has never met him.”
“Well, therein lies one huge difference. I plan to be there for you and our children. Tell me when you need me, and I’ll make sure I’m there.”
“I’ll see if they’re available tomorrow evening.”
Chapter Eight
“You’re what?” Isabel Flannigan shrieked.
“Nick and I are pregnant with twins,” Becca repeated.
“And you’re getting married, Rebecca.”
It was a command, not a question. And it tightened every fiber in Becca’s body.
“No, we have no plans to get married, Mom.”
She glanced at her father, who was sitting quietly in the striped gondola chair with his arms crossed. He was staring somewhere into the distance, and he hadn’t said a word since Becca had broken the news.
“I will be there for Becca and the babies,” Nick said. “They will have my full emotional and financial support.”
Isabel glared at Nick.
“And are we supposed to cheer for you for owning up to your mistake?”
“Mom. These are your grandchildren. Please, don’t call them a mistake. They may have been unplanned, but they are certainly not a mistake.”
Isabel continued her tirade as if she hadn’t heard a word Becca had said after Nick and I are pregnant with twins. “Getting married is only the decent thing to do. You play, you pay, Rebecca.”
Becca wanted to tell her mother that the reason she wasn’t getting married was because Nick didn’t love her. Not that way. But her biggest fear was being shoehorned into a loveless ma
rriage, and because of it, she and her children and her coerced husband would end up living an unhappy life.
Just like you, Mom and Dad.
But of course she didn’t say that. If she had, she would’ve said it in front of Nick, and the wrath she would’ve had to endure for embarrassing her mother in front of a stranger would’ve made the admonishment she’d received after breaking the news of the pregnancy look like nothing.
“With all due respect, Mrs. Flannigan, we didn’t come to ask for your advice or your blessing.”
Oh, good Lord. All the air whooshed out of Becca’s lungs. And she wanted to hug Nick for it. He’d just succeeded in very politely and respectfully putting Isabel Flannigan in her place. How in the world had he managed that?
Oh, but wait, he wasn’t finished.
“Mr. and Mrs. Flannigan, Becca and I are here out of courtesy to you. You’re the grandparents of our children, and I hope that we can count on you to be supportive, but we need to establish that the way Becca and I choose to live our lives and how we raise our children is our decision.”
Isabel opened her mouth as if she were going to say something but decided better. That was a first.
“Of course it’s your decision,” said Patrick Flannigan. It was the first indication that he’d heard a single word spoken this evening. “I just hope you understand this comes as a shock. It’s the last thing we expected from Rebecca. We always thought she would take a more traditional path. And, young man, we met you for the first time five days ago. We don’t know anything about you. So why don’t we start with...how long have you known our daughter?”
Nick and Rebecca looked at each other. If ever there was a chance that he could read her mind, please, let it be now. Surely he would know that they didn’t need to know about the one-night stand. But just in case—
“We met at the hospital, the night of Victor’s accident.”
“Let the man speak for himself, Rebecca,” her mother said.
She hated how a single comment from her mother could make her feel fourteen years old. She braced herself for her parents to do the math and, from the sum of the equation, figure out she’d gotten pregnant that night.
Instead, her mother insisted, “Why were you at the hospital the night of Victor’s accident?”
“I’m an emergency medicine doctor,” Nick said. “Becca had some questions about her nephew’s condition, and I was happy to answer them. We had dinner, and the rest is history.”
Yes. Perfect. Becca held her breath for a moment, waiting for them to catch on, but if they knew, they didn’t mention it.
Thank you. Becca glanced at Nick again and there was that subtle, sensual bond that connected them like a thread.
He understood her. At that moment she thought she might possibly be in love for the first time in her life.
After Isabel and Patrick Flannigan were satisfied with the grilling that they had given Nick, Isabel said, “Then I suppose you and Rebecca will be doing double duty on Thanksgiving. I’m sure you want to see your parents, too.”
As much as Becca hated to admit it, it was a good question. Nick always seemed to skirt the issue when family came up. She was curious to know more about his folks. She knew his younger brother had passed away much too early, but she had no idea if he had other siblings.
“My mother is no longer living,” Nick said in a very matter-of-fact tone. “My father lives in Florida. So, no, I won’t see him for Thanksgiving.”
“Did you invite him for the holiday?”
“I’m sure he has to work.”
“Couldn’t he make time?”
“Mom, really? Don’t you think you’ve interrogated Nick enough for tonight?”
Isabel pinned Becca with a withering glare. “Rebecca, this man is the father of our grandchildren. I don’t think it’s out of line to ask a few questions to get to know him.
“Have you broken the news about the twins to him yet?” she pressed.
“No, not yet. We wanted to share it with you and Mr. Flannigan first.”
Ooh! Brownie points. Nice touch, Nick.
To Becca’s surprise, Isabel’s face softened.
“Since you have no family in town, we will set a place for you at our table.”
Becca blinked. Nick didn’t know this, but this was a huge gesture on her mother’s part. She guarded her holidays zealously. They were for family only. In fact, her brother Mark’s wife, Beth, had not been invited until after she and Mark were engaged. It seemed that Nick had managed to skip a couple of steps. Or maybe babies trumped marriage? Who knew what logic Isabel applied.
“That’s a very gracious offer,” Nick said. “But I’m scheduled to work Thursday.”
The silence was deafening.
“But I’m scheduled for the early shift this week. How about if I come over after I get off work?”
“Nick, you’ll be exhausted. Mom, he works twelve-hour shifts. I’m sure he doesn’t want to come after work.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rebecca. It’s Thanksgiving. It’s when families get together. And it will be as good a time as any for the two of you to announce the pregnancy and any other plans you might come up with between now and then.”
* * *
Tuesday evening after leaving her parents’ house, Becca was certain of two things: first, Nick had managed the impossible—he had basically charmed her mother into submission—and second, she was falling in love with Nick. He’d walked that fine line between saying the right things and not kowtowing.
Since Nick had agreed to endure Thanksgiving Flannigan-style, she’d given him some space Wednesday night. He had to work the 7:00 a.m. to 7:00 p.m. shift. He was sure to be exhausted.
But Becca would’ve been lying to herself if she didn’t admit she’d been a little disappointed when he hadn’t called last night. Of course, she hadn’t called him, either—hence the giving him space part. But it was the first day that had gone by since they’d received the results of the pregnancy test that they hadn’t at least texted.
On Thursday morning, she picked up her phone, brought up his number and sent him a message:
Happy Thanksgiving! Looking forward to seeing you tonight.
She stared at the screen expectantly for a moment, tamping down the hope that he would text her right back.
But he didn’t.
She swallowed her disappointment. He was working. He’d been there since before she’d even gotten out of bed. She needed to cut him some slack.
Mandatory family dinners were never easy to get through. They usually involved at least thirty relatives. Of course, there were her mother’s judgmental comments and her sister’s temperamental prickliness. Someone always had too much to drink and ended up saying or doing something that offended someone else.
For the most part, it was like a three-ring circus.
Her aunts and uncles were generally pleasant, for the most part. Mark and Beth were nice and Becca tried to stick with them or at least fly under the radar until she’d helped wash, dry and put away the last dish, and she could take her leave until the next time.
What was it like to be part of a family that wasn’t quite so dysfunctional?
As she took the pumpkin pies she’d prepared from scratch out of the oven, she vowed when her daughters were born she would do everything in her power to foster a good relationship with them. Daughters? Well, that was a Freudian slip if she’d ever heard one. She had no idea what the sex of her babies would be—if they were fraternal or identical—and, yes, when it came right down to it, she simply wanted healthy children, whatever the sex. Still, deep inside she knew she’d love to have a couple of little girls with whom she could have a good relationship and do all of the things she wished she and her mother could have done and shared.
How had her relations
hip with her mother ended up getting so off track? All she had ever done was try to please her mother, try to make her see that she was worthy of her love. In all fairness, her mother loved her in her own quirky way. But she always seemed to disapprove. It was her mother’s approval she’d always been trying to earn. No matter what she did or how hard she tried, she never seemed to measure up.
As Becca carried the trays with her homemade pies to her car, she vowed to never make her children feel as if they had to earn her approval.
The first thing her mother said to her when she arrived at the house at four o’clock was “You’re late, Rebecca.”
“It’s four o’clock, mother. We won’t serve dinner until seven-thirty.”
“Well, since I gave the staff Thanksgiving Day off, it would’ve been nice for you to offer to help.”
Of course, she was being sarcastic. She didn’t have staff. Isabel Flannigan prided herself on being a homemaker—and a darn good one at that, if you were giving credit where credit was due. Besides, she probably wouldn’t have been able to find somebody to measure up to her standards if she could have had staff. And then there was the problem of finding someone who actually had the hide of steel to withstand her mother’s scrutiny on an hourly basis. Becca couldn’t even imagine such a person existed.
“Why didn’t you ask me to come earlier? I’m not very good at reading minds. Where is Rosanna? Is she here yet?”
“Oh, heavens, no. I want this to be a pleasant day. She and I would simply be at each other’s throats. I told her and Victor to arrive around six o’clock.”
So that was the secret, huh? If you made Isabel miserable enough, you were released from family obligation. Her sister was smarter than her mother gave her credit for.
“Well, then, she gets to do the cleanup,” Becca said. “Just because she’s hard to get along with doesn’t mean she gets a vacation.”
“Oh, Rebecca, stop saying nasty things about your sister. Do you hear yourself?”
No, Mom, I can’t seem to hear myself over the echo of your negativity.
That’s what Rosanna would have said, and the two of them would’ve gotten into a sparring match that would’ve lasted until Rosanna left in tears or their mother ended up going upstairs with a sick headache. Becca, on the other hand, swallowed her words, sat down at the kitchen table and started peeling the sweet potatoes.
His Texas Christmas Bride (Celebrations, Inc 9) Page 10
