Pregnant and Incognito

by Pamela Browning

  “You’re a strong, brave woman, Dana,” Conn said close beside her ear.

  She looked up at him, and over and above the exhaustion on his face, she saw approval and love radiating from him.

  She smiled then, a weary smile but a smile nonetheless. “There was something I meant to tell you before I got so busy with all this,” she murmured, gazing directly into his eyes.

  “What was that?” he said. Dana was pleased to see that Rosemary had already curved her tiny fingers around his thumb as if she would never let it go.

  “I love you, too,” Dana told him, and then a veil of sleep descended on her. She swirled down into it, secure in her heart that when she opened her eyes, Conn would be there watching over her, keeping her safe.

  AFTER DANA FELL ASLEEP and the baby was settled, Conn dozed in the green chair. He had never been so exhausted in his life. Yet he felt a sense of worthiness, of fulfillment. He couldn’t help admiring Dana’s fortitude and intense effort as she pushed her baby into the world, and he never could have imagined the mutual trust that they developed during that long, long night. Their emotional interplay had been incredibly moving.

  And at the supreme moment, when her baby finally slipped out warm into his hands, when he told her it was a fine, healthy girl, he had felt completely and passionately in tune with Dana. Her eyes, all shining with gratitude, had met his, and he had felt an unexpected rush of joy, of reverence for life and the part they had both played in bringing this new one into being. He would have liked to have been the father of Dana’s child. He would probably always regret that he wasn’t. But his love for Dana, the intimacy and bonding as he placed the baby at her breast, couldn’t have been stronger.

  He had sat by the bed, smoothing her hair away from her face, kissing her cheek, her eyelids, her neck, until he couldn’t stay awake any longer.

  As he slept, he dreamed the dream again, the nightmare about climbing to the hidden caves on the mountainside. Again he was searching for a nest of hawks that he somehow knew was there, but this time when he lost his footing on the treacherous path, he ended up beside a nest in a crevice. Inside were fledglings, and they would make fine birds to train. He reached in and gently removed the birds, handing them back to Dana. He hadn’t known she was there, but she was smiling at him and holding out her hands.

  And instead of falling backward as he always had in the dream, he found himself turning to Dana, then setting the birds free to soar away, setting his heart free, too. Wrapping his arms tightly around her, he held her fast, holding her to his heart forever.

  DANA SMELLED BACON FRYING. It didn’t make her stomach heave. On the heels of these two observations came the knowledge that she wasn’t pregnant anymore. She’d had the baby.

  Dana opened her eyes and saw Conn at the stove in the kitchen. And then the baby stirred and made a little mewling sound beside her in the bed. Awake now, she murmured, “Rosemary,” still unbelieving, still astonished at the turn of events that had kept her here to have her baby.

  “You’re awake,” Conn said, coming out of the kitchen. Poor man, he looked spent. She probably looked worse.

  “I smelled bacon.”

  “I’m cooking our breakfast. How are you feeling?”

  She considered this as Rosemary began to cry, her tiny face wrinkling up like a shriveled apple. “I feel all right,” she said. She opened the front of her gown and guided Rosemary’s mouth to her breast, trusting instinct to tell her what to do, and in that moment she felt a kinship with mothers everywhere and for all time, an eternity of motherhood encompassing her love for this baby. She couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than this child—until Conn came over and knelt beside the bed.

  “She’s a pretty baby, Dana. She looks exactly like you.”

  “Nothing like Philip,” she agreed. “I’m so glad.” She’d known that Rosemary would look like her all along. She nursed contentedly until the baby had drunk her fill and went back to sleep.

  “I made a little bed for her,” Conn said. “It’s in a box that was full of baby clothes.”

  Dana had packed that box in preparation for leaving. “I don’t want to put her in it yet. I like having her here on the bed with me,” she said. After she settled the baby on the inside of the bed near the wall, she pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing slightly. “I’m so hungry,” she said.

  “You did a hard night’s work,” Conn said.

  Memories flooded back to her, and she wondered if he had meant all the things he’d said. He’d told her he loved her. He’d said they’d get married. She had told him she loved him, too.

  “I can never thank you enough,” she said. “For all you did last night, I mean. I know I was hard to get along with. I’m sorry.”

  “No apology is necessary. What’s important is that you and the baby are both fine.”

  “I bet you never dreamed you’d be delivering a baby,” she said with a half smile.

  Conn laughed. “Nope, I certainly didn’t, but I had a lot of help. Your Dr. Evans was on the phone coaching me through it at the last.”

  “Are we snowed in?”

  “Looks that way.” He went into the kitchen and came back with eggs, bacon, toast and steaming hot coffee.

  He sat down beside her and dug into the food with relish. “Conn,” she said, “I want you to know I won’t hold you responsible for anything that was said last night.”

  He stopped chewing and swallowed.

  “Do you mean that?”

  She fingered the edge of the sheet. “Of course I do.”

  He set aside his plate and reached over to grasp her hand. “Well, that isn’t acceptable to me. I damn well intend to hold you to what you said.”

  “Other than screaming a lot and moaning, what was it?” Her look of studied innocence told him that she wasn’t serious, so he relaxed.

  “You said you love me.”

  “You told me first. You also said that we were going to get married.”

  “I remember. I meant it. Since then I’ve been doing a lot of serious thinking about how we’re going to bring it off.”

  “Conn—”

  “Hear me through, all right?” When she nodded, her eyes on his face, he took heart that everything would work out. He plunged ahead before she could tell him to shut up.

  “When I came back from L.A. yesterday, I was determined to tell you that I was going to go back to work for the Probe,” he began only to be greeted by a horrified look.

  “Oh, Conn, no!”

  “Just listen, please.”

  She subsided. “All right.”

  “I need to get Mom into Catalina-Pacific, the more expensive nursing home. I told you about it, remember?”

  Dana nodded, and he continued. “Well, it’s going to cost more than I felt comfortable spending, so I intended to go back to the Probe where I’d earn a regular salary. But after you went to sleep last night, I did some serious thinking. I’ve changed my mind.”

  “Good,” Dana said with great finality.

  “The panther article won’t pay much, but I’ll let Nation’s Green publish it for the two hundred bucks they offered. It’s not enough, but that’s okay. I have other articles that could be compiled into a book. Jim Menoch said that his publishing company is going under, but there are other publishers. And while my book is making the rounds, I’ll be working on a treatment for a documentary about raptor rehabilitation. I’m excited about the idea, and I think I can educate people about the birds, what they’re really like.”

  “It sounds wonderful, Conn, and I’d love to help you research it. It doesn’t sound as though this is going to bring in enough money to put your mother in Catalina-Pacific, though.”

  “It won’t, but I’ll sell my place in Marina Del Rey. I won’t ever be going back there, and it will bring in a sizable chunk of money.”

  “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

  “I’m positive. What you and I have found together is so good and so rig
ht that L.A. holds no appeal for me. My life is here with you, my love.”

  “Am I really your love? Honestly and truly?” Her eyes searched his face.

  “Honestly and truly. You are the only woman in the world for me, and I’m glad we found each other. All these other things—where to live, how we’ll make enough money—they’re all just fluff. People in love learn how to work around each other, to make compromises. We can do it, Dana. I know we can.” He lifted her hands to his lips and gently kissed the fingers, one by one.

  Dana forced herself to think. “I’ll have to face the music sometime, let people know where I am, tell them I’m retired from the business. I’ll need to go back to Chicago, close my apartment,” she said. “While I’m there, I can talk to Tricia about your documentary. I think she’ll go for it, Conn. She’s always saying that she likes doing things that haven’t been overdone, and raptor rehab hasn’t been, I’m sure of it.”

  “Then it’s settled. We may not have a lot of money, not as much as either of us is accustomed to having, but we’ll have each other. What do you say we build a few rooms onto my house? A nursery and a master bedroom?”

  “You didn’t expect to have a baby to take care of,” she said.

  He reached across her and caressed Rosemary’s cheek. “This baby means that I am doubly blessed,” he said, and he meant it with all his heart.

  Dana set her plate on the nightstand and slid her arms around his neck. “You’ve been doing lots of thinking, haven’t you?”

  “What I’m thinking now is that I want to kiss you.”

  “I wish you would.”

  He did, savoring her velvety mouth, tangling his hands in her hair.

  “Marry me,” he said.

  She lifted her face from his neck. “Say again?”

  “Marry me. I’ll say it as often as I must in order to convince you that it’s a good idea.”

  “It’s a wonderful idea, Conn. When?”

  “Soon,” he murmured, folding his arms even more tightly around her.

  “Soon,” she agreed.

  Epilogue

  Three Months Later

  “Come to Mommy,” Dana crooned as she eased her baby daughter out of Conn’s arms. “Did you miss me while I was gone?”

  “We both missed you, my dear wife,” Conn said. He slid his arm around Dana’s shoulders. The three of them had just returned home to Conn’s house from the airport, where Dana had disembarked from a flight from Chicago.

  “And the hawks? Did they miss me, too?” She glanced playfully up at him, thinking that she would never tire of looking at Conn, of gazing into his dark eyes, of making love with him in the big loft bed.

  “My darling, all of Arizona must have noticed you were gone. Billy Wayne says he wants to learn how to make coconut cake and would like to have your recipe. Susie asked me when you and Rosemary and I are going to come into the diner for breakfast. Esther wants you to call her at the library, she has a new book on counted cross-stitch that she thinks you’ll like, and—”

  “Wait a minute,” Dana said with a laugh. “These days I have better things to do with my time.”

  “And we’re going to be doing one of them as soon as you get Rosemary fed, diapered and to bed,” Conn said, nuzzling her cheek.

  “Don’t you want to hear what Tricia said about the idea for your documentary?”

  “I’d rather hear how much you love me.”

  “Stop it, Conn, I’m serious.” But she wanted to giggle like a teenager in love for the first time. In fact, that’s how she felt around Conn, and they’d been married for almost three months.

  “Gaga,” Rosemary said, smiling her biggest smile. “Gaga!”

  “What does that mean?” Conn said.

  “It means that she already knows that Tricia is planning to come for a visit to meet you and the hawks. Tricia wants to see whatever you have as far as a treatment goes. She thinks that if the documentary follows an injured raptor—and Billy Wayne can probably find one, knowing him—if it follows the same bird all through the injured and rehabilitation process, the audience will identify with the bird and be pulling for it. She said a lot more, too, but I can’t think when you’re kissing the side of my neck.”

  “Two weeks is a long time to be away from us,” he said. “Two weeks were hell without you.”

  “You had Rosemary. It was a good time for a bit of father-daughter bonding.”

  “I’m more interested in husband-wife bonding at the moment. Here’s Rosemary’s bottle. Do you want to give it to her or shall I?”

  “I will.” The baby patted Dana’s face, exploring, and Dana kissed the little hand. She had missed them both terribly, and she never wanted to be away from them again. She wouldn’t have to be, either. She had quietly put her Chicago penthouse up for sale.

  Conn handed her a warm bottle and she popped the nipple into the baby’s mouth. Rosemary sucked, closing her eyes blissfully.

  “Anyway, I told Tricia that she can stay in my cabin for a few days while she’s here. Raymond might come visit in the summer on his way to Sedona. I can’t wait for you to meet them.”

  “Any news from other quarters?” Conn asked.

  “You mean Noelle and Philip?”

  “Of course I mean Noelle and Philip.”

  “Well, Raymond told me that Noelle informed Myrtis that she was a spiteful old hag who ought to mind her own business. They’re not speaking. And even though he and Noelle are supposed to be engaged, Philip keeps going for long lunches with the weather girl on one of the local channels’ evening news. She’s twenty-one, and he’s going to be forty-six soon.”

  “No fool like an old fool, they say. Speaking of friends, I talked with Bentley the other day.”

  Dana tilted her head as she looked at him. “And?”

  “She went to visit my mother at Catalina-Pacific. Mom’s comfortable, and the nurses pay a lot of attention to her.”

  “Good, Conn. I hope we can go visit her ourselves soon.”

  “We will. And, Dana, Bentley says she can take care of getting out the word that you’re no longer going to be in front of any cameras or in any public life again. She was gleeful about her plot—uh, I mean plan.”

  Rosemary was falling asleep, and Dana set the empty bottle on the table beside the couch before easing her up onto her shoulder and burping her. “I’m going to put our darling daughter in her crib,” she said to Conn. “And then you can tell me all about Bentley’s plan. But aren’t you going to owe her big-time?”

  “If Bentley can hide away here in Cougar Creek while she’s writing her book, we’ll be even, finally, especially if you let her stay in your cabin. And I think I’ll let her fill you in on her plan when you call her tomorrow,” Conn said mysteriously, and then he laughed.

  Later, when they were up under the rafters in bed, Conn caressed Dana’s breast and kissed her long and lingeringly.

  “No more long separations,” he said. “I mean it.”

  “No more,” she sighed, sliding around until she faced him. “I’ve taken care of all unfinished business. All that remains now is for you to welcome me home. Really welcome me, I mean.”

  “Like this? And like this? And how about like this?” he said, touching her in the way that she loved to be touched.

  “All of those,” she murmured, and, full of love for him and full of happiness in the life that they now shared, she urged him to make love to her once and then again.

  BENTLEY HOWSER’S final celebrity column in the National Probe read:

  Well, dear hearts, I was hoping that before I penned my last column for the Probe, I’d be able to clear up that mystery about Day Quinlan. You know, the oh-so-popular talk-show host who walked off her show several months ago and disappeared from view? I know, I know—when she first left, I reported that she had eloped with an oil-rich sultan. Blame it on false information from one of my informants, okay? But now here’s the straight skinny: Day Quinlan is no more. She has ceased to exist.
<
br />   Darlings, I don’t mean that any harm has come to one golden hair of her neatly coiffed head—far from it. In fact, I talked with Day Quinlan yesterday in what may be her final communication with the rest of the world. Yes, the irony is that the talk-show diva of them all won’t be doing much talking from now on. She’s joined an order of nuns in a teeny-tiny backward country in Europe. A silent order, no less. Her final words to me were, “Bentley, would I lie to you? I have found true happiness in silence and service. Tell my friends and fans that I wish them all the best.” And I’m sure Sister Annunciata’s legions of fans wish her well, too.

  So this column’s a wrap! A new and talented columnist, Ruben Lobos-Sanchez, will be bringing you the scoop in the Probe from now on. Sayonara, dear hearts, and buy lots of copies of my upcoming book for everyone you know.

  Love and hugs to all,

  Bentley

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6819-0

  PREGNANT AND INCOGNITO

  Copyright © 2002 by Pamela Browning.

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