by Unknown
Annie splashed more water on her face and dried it with a towel. She felt numb but exhausted. She knew the next few days would be busy ones, and she dreaded it, although she knew Vera and Lillian would help, as would Sam if she asked. She expected to be sad for a while, but she looked forward to the day that she could put it all behind her.
She opened the door and almost bumped into Sam. He pulled her into his arms. “I’m sorry about your father,” he said.
“Thank you, Sam,” she said.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be once I get everything out of the way. I just want it to be over so I can go home.”
“Where is home, babe?” he asked.
“Wherever you are, Sam. Home is with you.”
Epilogue
One year later . . .
Annie’s contractions began at two a.m. on Christmas Eve. She was surprised. While she and Sam were eagerly awaiting the births of their twins, the babies weren’t due for almost two weeks. Annie still had a long to-do list—she’d only wrapped half her gifts—but she, with the help of her father’s attorney, had spent the past month negotiating the sale of Hartford Iron and Steel for a staggering sum. The bulk of the money had gone into The Bradley Hartford Foundation, along with monies from the Hartford Estate which had sold for twice what her father had paid thirty years earlier.
Annie had already put some of the money to work. She’d hired painters, contractors, and brick masons to restore the exterior of the old courthouse which was clearly showing its age. Annie had commissioned a local nursery to replace old shrubs, design and plant flowerbeds, and get the lawn in shape. The gazebo had been scraped and repainted, and the old park benches replaced. Annie felt proud of what she and her team had accomplished. The residents of Pinckney had been so kind to her, she wanted to give back.
Four a.m. . . .
Annie’s back was beginning to hurt. She suddenly remembered she had a meeting later with an architect. She was building a Boys & Girls Club of America. She’d heard rumors of under-age drinking at the local pool hall, high school students not applying themselves, and, worse, bullying. After visiting several BGCAs in neighboring cities and listening to young people describe how the clubs had changed them for the better—actually saving lives!—Annie had contacted the national headquarters in Atlanta and asked for guidance so she could put the project on fast-track. They had been happy to oblige.
Five a.m. . . .
Annie’s labor had kicked up a notch. She had been brainstorming ways to create more commerce and job growth for those living in Pinckney, while maintaining the simple small town feel she’d come to love. She no longer shopped at Saks, Gucci, Neiman Marcus, and Tiffany’s. She had donated her designer wardrobe to the Second Hand Store. She had wanted to make a fresh start in life, and getting rid of a lot of stuff had felt good. She had even sold her custom pearl-colored Jaguar with its ultra-posh interior and purchased two Dodge Ram Pickup Trucks, black for Sam and candy apple red for her. He’d been embarrassed.
“I don’t want folks thinking I married you for your money.”
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “They know you married me because I’m gorgeous and look good in a waitress uniform. Besides, I bought you a pickup truck, not a fleet of Lamborghinis.”
“You need to save your money for a rainy day,” he said.
“Really? Where do I buy a billion dollar umbrella?”
His jaw had dropped almost to his chest. “Holy hell, Annie! Is that what you’re worth? No, don’t tell me because I don’t want to know. Just don’t go buying me a bunch of expensive gifts.”
“Okay, from now on I’ll just buy you cheap crap.”
Sam had grinned. Annie had not lost that mouthy side of her personality, but to be honest it was one of the things he loved most. He’d kissed her. When he raised his face, his look was tender. “Nobody has ever given me a nicer gift, Annie. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Sam. See how easy that was.”
Six thirty a.m.
Annie glanced at the alarm clock. She had ridden out the light contractions for four and a half hours, using the relaxation techniques she had learned in childbirth classes; but she sensed a change, the muscles in her stomach were growing tighter, her back ached something fierce. Still, as she glanced at the alarm clock on her night table, she noted her contractions were uneven and sporadic. She would wake Sam when they got closer together. If only she could ease her back pain.
Seven forty-five a.m.
Annie was suddenly hit with the whammy of all contractions. She grabbed her stomach, bolted upright in the bed, and cried out. “Holy Mother of God!”
Sam jumped up. “What is it? Are you in labor? Are the babies coming?”
“It huurrts!” Annie said, kicking the covers aside, hoping to ease her pain. I’ve been in labor for almost seven hours, but—”
“Seven hours! Why didn’t you wake me?” Sam leaped from the bed, and threw on his clothes. “We need to time the contractions!”
“They’re five minutes apart.”
“We have to get you dressed and to the hospital pronto!” he said, helping her from the bed. As Annie slipped out of her nightgown, he rushed to the closet and yanked the first thing he came across. “How’s this?” he asked.
“That’s a summer dress, Sam.”
He tossed it aside.
“This?” he said, holding up a pencil skirt. He looked from the skirt to Annie. “Maybe not.”
She pointed to an overstuffed chair. “I’ve already got my things laid out just in case.” She waddled toward it.
“No! Don’t move!” Sam said. “You might stir things up.” He hurried across the room, grabbed her dress. “Here we go.”
Annie suddenly grabbed one of his arms, her nails digging into his flesh. “Arggggg. Owwwww!”
Sam winced, certain she had drawn blood. “I know it hurts, babe, but don’t worry. As soon as we get to the hospital I’m going to demand they put you on really good drugs. By the time you wake up our twins will have graduated high school.”
Annie struggled to get through the contraction. Her eyes crossed.
“Raise your arms so I can slip the dress over your head,” he said after the contraction had passed.
Annie did as she was told. Once Sam had the dress in place, he fumbled with the zipper. “Something is wrong here.”
“You put my dress on wrong side out,” Annie said.
“Oh, hell,” he muttered. “Well, we don’t have time to worry about it.”
“I can’t go to the hospital with my dress inside-out.”
Sam gave huge sigh and started over. “If we keep messing around, our babies are going to be born in the backseat of my pickup truck.” He looked her over. “Where are your shoes?” He glanced about frantically.
Annie pointed to the closet. “I need the brown loafers. The others are too tight.”
Sam grabbed the shoes and stuffed her feet into them as quickly as he could, then took her hand and led her toward the stairs. They had managed to get half way down before Annie stopped and screeched.
Sam heard Martha’s bedroom door open. She came into the hall. “Is Annie in labor?” she asked.
Annie doubled over as the contraction intensified. “Oh crap, oh crap, oh, crap,” she cried.
“I guess she is,” Martha said. She helped Sam get Annie into her coat. “It’s going to be okay, honey,” Martha said. “Just practice what you and Sam learned in those classes. Won’t be long before you’re holding your babies.”
“Don’t forget my suitcase,” Annie said as Sam tried to shuffle her through the front door. He grabbed the suitcase beside the door and led her toward his truck.
“I’ll start making phone calls,” Martha called out.
Sam was able to time Annie’s contractions, even as he made the drive to Pinckney General Hospital. He parked in front of the emergency room, and an orderly hustled Annie into a wheelchair.
“I’m going to park my t
ruck,” Sam said and sped toward the parking garage. He joined Annie a few minutes later in the reception area. They were quickly processed because the forms and insurance had been taken care of in advance. One of the staff fitted Annie with a hospital bracelet.
Lillian and Vera rushed through the door. “How are you feeling?” Lillian asked.
Annie suddenly doubled over in the wheelchair and gave a yelp, obviously in the throes of another contraction. A breathless Darla came through the main doors, spotted Annie and hurried toward her. “Oh, hon, I’m sorry you’re in so much pain.” She paused. “Would you like a valium?” she whispered.
Finally, the orderly pushed Annie through a set of double doors leading to maternity and Annie’s room. Lillian and Vera followed. Both were thrilled they were going to witness the births. A sweet-faced nurse named Daisy appeared, and they waited outside while the woman and Sam helped Annie out of her clothes and into a hospital gown.
“Uh-oh,” Annie said as soon as she was situated on the hospital bed. “I think my water just broke.”
Daisy slipped a large dry pad beneath her and took a peek at Annie’s progress. “Holy cow!” she said. “I’d better page your doctor.” She looked at Sam. “You’ll have to wash up and put on scrubs,” she said. “I’ll show you where to go.”
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” he told Annie and followed the nurse out.
Lillian and Vera exchanged worried looks. “Is there a problem?” Lillian asked Daisy when she returned.
“Mrs. Ballard is doing fine,” Daisy said. “She is dilated almost nine centimeters. Dr. Newton is on his way.” She motioned them into the room.
Daisy and another nurse gently prepped Annie, putting her feet in stirrups and draping sterile sheets in place. Lillian stood on one side of the hospital bed and Vera on the other. “Have you picked out names yet?” Lillian asked, having posed the same question a dozen times, only this time it was obvious she was trying to take Annie’s mind off her pain.
“We’re . . . um, undecided,” Annie said, sweat beading her brow and upper lip. Vera quickly wet a paper towel with cold water and wiped Annie’s face. “I guess we’ll call them Baby Number One and Baby Number Two,” Vera said.
Sam returned wearing scrubs. Lillian and Vera stepped aside so he could take his place next to Annie. He held her hand. “How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked. He’d barely gotten the words out before a contraction hit. “Remember your breathing,” he said and coached her through several contractions.
Annie was in the midst of another contraction when she suddenly felt the need to push and announced to everyone in the room. “I need to push! I need to push!” she said, just as soon as her doctor sailed into the room. He grabbed a stool and placed it at the foot of the hospital bed between Annie’s legs. “Looks like you’re ready to rock-n-roll, Mrs. Ballard,” he said.
“She’s in a lot of pain,” Sam said. “Can you give her anything?”
“It’s too late for that,” the doctor said, “but I’ll ask my nurse to make her a gin and tonic. Okay, Mrs. Ballard, I’ve got a baby crowning. On the next contraction you can start pushing.”
Annie did as she was told. After several pushes, a couple of grunts, and one huge groan, a baby slipped into Dr. Newton’s hands. “A fine boy!” he said, presenting the baby to Sam who looked to be in shock.
Lillian and Vera stepped closer. “He’s beautiful,” Lillian said.
Sam smiled. “Ladies, meet Bradley Samuel Ballard.”
Both women immediately became tearful.
Sam passed the baby to Annie, and she studied his red face. “Oh, look, he has your nose and blue eyes, Sam.”
“He definitely has Bradley’s mouth and jaw,” Vera said.
Dr. Newton put a clamp on the baby’s umbilical cord and asked Sam if he wanted to cut the cord. A nervous Sam followed the doctor’s instructions and did so. Lillian and Vera clapped softly.
“May I have your son for a moment, Mrs. Ballard?” one of the nurses asked. “I need to suction him, put eye drops in those pretty blues, and clean him up a bit. Won’t take long.”
Annie struggled through several more contractions. “When can I start pushing?” she asked the doctor.
“Your little girl is taking her time,” he said. “That’s a woman for you. They like being fashionably late. Okay, Mrs. Ballard, let ‘er rip.”
Annie pushed as hard as she could, and her baby daughter slid into Dr. Newton’s waiting hands. He passed her to Sam, and all three women stared at the newborn adoringly. “She’s got your green eyes, Annie!” Sam said and held her up. “Ladies, meet Lillian Bethany Ballard.”
Lillian gave a small squeal of delight, but Vera looked stunned. “You named her after my mother?” she asked.
Annie nodded. “I’ve always loved the name Bethany. We plan to call her Lily.”
Sam passed the baby to Annie, cut the umbilical cord, and kissed Annie’s lips softly. They simply stared at the infant in awe.
Dr. Newton was still busy with Annie, even after one of the nurses took Lily. Sam knew the doctor had more to do, but he grinned and questioned him. “I’m almost afraid to ask what you’re doing,” he said. “You don’t see another baby, do you?”
The doctor smiled. “No, but I think I see a Jack Russell Terrier.”
Everyone laughed.
Lillian tried to hide the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I can’t believe I’m a grandmother,” she said. She looked at Vera. “And so are you.”
Vera put her arms around Lillian, and they hugged. Sam and Annie watched the nurses clean the babies. A few minutes later, they were returned to their proud parents.
Annie held her son. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “Hello, Bradley,” she said, a bit choked. “You’re too little to understand right now, but one of these days I’m going to tell you all about the uncle you were named after. He was my very best friend. Just like you and Lily will be best friends.”
Lillian kissed Annie on the forehead. “I’d better go out and give Darla the news,” she said, “or she’s going to storm through that door and demand to know what’s taking so long.”
“I’ll go with you,” Vera said. “Let’s give the new parents a little privacy.”
Sam looked into his daughter’s face and saw Annie’s reflection. “She’s beautiful, sweetheart. Just like her mother. And I could not ask for a finer looking son. My parents are going to be so proud.”
“You need to call them,” Annie said, “as well as your sister,” she added. She’d felt bad that her pregnancy had interfered with their annual Christmas celebration, but they’d feared their presence would create a hardship during Annie’s late stage pregnancy. Instead, they were planning to visit after New Year’s.
Annie smiled, but despite all the excitement she felt drained. She tried to keep her eyes open. Finally, two nurses returned. “Mrs. Ballard, we’re going to take the babies for now. The next time you see them they’ll be bathed and dressed in fresh gowns. In the meantime, you should rest.”
Sam stayed with Annie, holding her hand long after she drifted off. “Thank you, Annie,” he whispered. He knew Annie could not hear him, but it didn’t matter. He continued the sit there, watching her sleep, and he fell in love with her all over again.
About The Author
Charlotte Hughes published her first category romance in 1987, a Bantam Books’ Loveswept, titled Too Many Husbands, which immediately shot to #1 on the Waldenbooks Bestseller list. She went on to write almost thirty books before the line closed in 1998.
Although Charlotte is widely known for her laugh-out-loud romantic comedies, she went on to pen three Maggie-Award winning thrillers for Avon Books in the late nineties, before resuming her first love, funny stories about people falling in love. She thrilled readers with her hilarious books, A New Attitude and Hot Shot, the latter of which won the Waldenbooks Greatest Sales Growth Achievement in 2003.
Her books received so many accolades that she was invited to c
o-author the very popular Full House series with mega-star author Janet Evanovich.
With that series behind her, Charlotte began her own, starring psychologist Kate Holly; What Looks Like Crazy, Nutcase, and High Anxiety, creating a list of somewhat kooky but always loveable and funny ensemble characters.
If you have read this far, it is likely you have enjoyed the book. Would you please consider writing a review, especially at Amazon (TM)? Amazon weighs these reviews heavily in deciding who gets to see which books.
To keep current with Charlotte and her projects, please sign up for her newsletter.
You can also visit her website at readcharlottehughes.com and follow her on Twitter @charlottehughes.
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Epilogue
About The Author
