Conditional Offer

by Liz Crowe

  She woke with a start, disoriented and dry mouthed. The room was pitch black. But the distinct sound of an unhappy toddler broke the silence. She wandered into the hall and saw him. Brandis, Jack and Sara's near three-year-old son standing in the hall, whimpering, thumb stuck firmly in his mouth. Suzanne knelt down, and he leapt into her arms, nearly knocking her over. "Shh…it's okay." She patted his back, stuck her nose into his neck and sucked in a breath of his little boy scent. He calmed, kept his arms wrapped around her neck and she carried him back to the couch making soothing noises as he hiccupped himself to sleep. She sat long into the night pondering options and possibilities.

  By the time Jack wandered out of his room and pulled a quilt over the two of them, she'd woken, smiled at him then fallen back asleep. The little boy curled himself into her, keeping one arm wrapped tight around her neck. Her dreams were a tangle of babies, and Craig. She woke when Brandis climbed across her and dropped to the floor calling for his mommy. She sat, and did her pilgrimage to the bathroom, losing what few cookies she had, but suddenly, not really minding.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  One Month Later

  Craig glanced at his watch and grabbed a coat and tie, hoping he wasn't too late. Rob and Lila were getting married. He'd been invited. He knew he was going because she would be there. He'd spent the last month in complete turmoil. Going from work to home to the pool to bed; then repeating the process. Avoiding everyone and everything that would remind him he was human. He felt like a goddamned robot. But it was all he could do. Anything else implied he would allow himself to admit what he suspected about Suzanne.

  He pulled up to the small chapel on the University of Michigan campus. Snagging Katie when she dashed by in full fancy wedding sundress playing tag with her brother and cousins, he gave her a huge hug. He noted all the people milling about and checked his watch. He approached Jack and Evan, subconsciously looking around for Suzanne's red-headed presence. His heart pounded. He was sweaty, nervous. Not himself at all. "Hey," he shook Jack's hand. He greeted Evan and one of the daughters who clung to him. Damn place was like a daycare center, so many kids. "Thought I was late." He turned, then nearly choked on his own spit when he saw her, slipping out from a side door of the chapel.

  Her face was flushed, her hair blowing around in the light breeze. It lifted the edge of her light blue sundress when she slid her sunglasses down her nose. He ducked out of sight, wanting to observe her from a distance without her seeing him. Jack leaned into his ear nearly making him jump a mile. "There was a time when I had to be told to get the fuck over myself. To get what I wanted." Craig never took his eyes off the woman he loved. "Go, doc. Go to her. Cut the shit and man-the-fuck up. She needs you. More than ever."

  He turned, but Jack just nodded towards the red headed woman still standing in the shadow of the chapel. She stepped out onto the grass. His whole body stilled, as if frozen in ice. Her face looked different — fuller, healthier. She put a hand on her stomach. He swallowed hard. Told himself to move, to put one foot in front of the other, forward motion. Towards her. She still hadn't seen him. He moved fast, caught her in his arms and tugged her back into the shadows.

  "Hey," she struggled for a second, and then looked up into his eyes. At that moment he knew.

  He put a hand on her belly. She was so slight, he already felt the subtle change there. His ears buzzed, but he tried to keep cool. She squirmed, looked away. "Suzanne," he whispered, brushed his lips over hers, relishing everything about her. He tried to come to terms with the reality – an older woman, already medically compromised, carrying a child. His child. He held onto her, forcing terror at her undoubtedly tenuous condition down under a solid layer of longing. She clung to him, went up on her tiptoes, and kissed him before he could say anything else.

  She broke away, cradled his face in her hands. "Marry me." She asked. "Please?" Her voice shook. Her entire body trembled. "I love you. I need you. I…" She put her hand over the one he had pressed to her stomach.

  He stepped back, stared hard at her. "This is you, asking me, huh?"

  She nodded. He looked up, studied the annoyingly movie-set blue sky. "I really like the idea of that Suzanne." He began. "But…."

  She put fingers over his lips, making him wince with the effort to not kiss her again. "You know this," she touched her stomach, "is not a good idea. You know it even better than I do."

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. The stats and facts about the danger of having a child late in life rolled around in his head. Wonder at how stable she would possibly be during a pregnancy nearly rendered him breathless. But he lifted his chin. "So, what are you saying? You want me to make some kind of choice for you? As your doctor?" He let the unsaid words drift between them. "As the baby's father…" died on his lips.

  She stiffened, took a step back. He knew the look that dropped into her eyes veiling her seemingly newfound openness. The withdrawal had begun. He tried not to let anger fill the space in his chest that she'd created months ago by rejecting him. But then, something happened. She swallowed, and her eyes filled with tears. The strong-as-steel, petite, beer-selling dynamo seemed to crumple right in front of him. "I'm so scared," she whispered.

  He took a step towards her, needing to have her in his arms so badly he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself. "Don't be. Nothing bad will happen." He tried to summon his best "doctor voice." He ran a finger down her wet cheek. When he spoke, his voice broke. "I won't let it. I promise. I won't let anything bad happen to you – ever." He held her, kissed her hair. "And yes, I will marry you Suzanne."

  * * *

  Five Months Later

  Craig stared at the monitor and steeled himself. "Honey," he put her freezing cold hand to his lips. "We have to take her."

  "No," Suzanne shook her head, her damp hair whipping around her face. She sucked in a breath when another contraction gripped her. "Ow. You promised, Craig. You told me it would be okay."

  He shoved down the urge to yell, realizing he had to stay calm, that he had only a few minutes to save his daughter's life. Suzanne had been so irrational about this option for a week, and it was about to cost him his child. "It will, my love," he brushed her hair back off her forehead, kissed her dry lips, then motioned for the nurse. "Get Dr. Lane. Now."

  He pulled Suzanne close, held onto her while the team around them leapt to action, draping her lower body with blue paper. The last few months had been a blur, horrific and terrifying. While most of him was glad she would be getting the child she wanted so badly he spent a lot of time furious with himself for letting it get this far. Between gestational diabetes and pre-eclampsia, she'd spent the bulk of the time flat on her back, anxious and antsy and making everyone's life miserable. And he was a walking, talking man-shaped bundle of tension and worry. They'd made it about four weeks past their small wedding before it all went bad and her body starting rejecting the pregnancy.

  "Ow!" She yelped, and gripped him tight. His heart pounded but he put a soothing hand to her face. "It hurts." She whispers. "She's okay, right? Please?"

  "Shh…" he soothed, and looked up. The head of the hospital's OB department had been with them from the start. The guy was good, better than good and right now his eyes were serious and trained down onto the job at hand.

  A neonatal incubator was rolled in and prepped. The baby, a daughter, they knew, would be nearly nine weeks premature, but her heart had stopped this morning while Suzanne groaned her way through yet more early contractions. So despite all the risks, he agreed with the OB and the chief pediatrics resident. They had to get her out, now.

  He closed his eyes, willing the nightmare away. "Oh," he heard Suzanne's voice, breathy and a little nervous. He looked up and saw Dr. Lane holding the tiny, scarily quiet infant in his hands. He watched, dazed, as the nurse took her and tucked her into the incubator, hooking her up to a million leads, giving her all the usual checks and shots. Craig's throat contracted at the look in the man's eyes as he finishe
d, then closed. The peds guy rushed in and gave the impossibly small baby a once over. "Is she…" Suzanne had not let go of him. He looked down at their clenched hands; their wedding rings glinted in the bright operating room light. "Can I…"

  "Hang on," he kissed her, pried his fingers away and took a couple of shaky steps over to the baby. His daughter stared up at him, her fists clenched her mouth open, yelling silently, her skin getting a nice healthy pink as she sucked air into her small lungs. He gulped, put a hand on the top of the plastic. "God," he croaked, and felt a tear slip down his face. "Lillian Grace. Please be okay."

  The pediatric team was fussing around on the other side of the baby's unit. The department chief put a hand on his shoulder. "It's amazing Craig. She's in great shape. We'll keep her in this, of course, and use the feeding tube for a day, or so. But have Suzanne use the breast pump. The baby needs mama's milk to keep her strength up."

  "Can I… can she hold her?" He put both hands on the incubator, palms itching with the need to touch her.

  The guy shrugged. "She is really stable. I don't see why not." The nurse rolled the incubator close to Suzanne's bed, wrapped the girl in a blanket and put her in his arms.

  When Craig handed their small, beautiful girl baby to his wife, Suzanne's eyes were dry. His most definitely were not.

  Epilogue

  Fifteen Years Later

  Suzanne stretched out in the lounge chair, hiding behind a giant hat, sunglasses, and tons of sunscreen. She studied the amazing array of children that splashed in Lake Michigan. Sara stood beside her, bearing Bloody Mary's for everyone. Jack ran by, kicking a soccer ball along the beach, followed by Rob and a group of adults and kids ranging in age, from seven to nearly twenty-three.

  "Quite the crowd, isn't it?" Sara yelped when her husband smacked her ass on the way past. She sat, sipped and held out a hand. Suzanne took it, held on tight. Craig ran up with a little boy on his shoulders. The child had a shock of stark black hair and deep olive skin, and a smile that never seemed to fade.

  Maureen, Jack's sister, joined the women. "You need more sunscreen mister." She shielded her eyes up at the little boy who squealed when Craig dumped him onto the chair. Suzanne watched as he snuggled into his mother's arms. Blake, the youngest addition to their merry group, a seven-year-old miracle child most claimed, named by Jack's sister in honor of the one they had all lost. And everyone from adults to teenagers doted on him.

  "I'm gonna jump into the match," Craig pointed down the beach where the adults and children had formed teams and were about to start a soccer game. Suzanne smiled at him as he trotted away.

  Sara patted Blake's foot. He scrambled out of Mo's arms and leapt over to let his godmother lather the SPF fifty on him.

  "Hey!" Jack yelled up at them. "Where's Brandis?"

  Sara sighed, selectively ignoring him and his question about their handsome, charming, eighteen-year-old son. She whispered to Suzanne. "I know. But I'm not telling him. Watch, give Rob about five seconds…."

  They counted to five together. Rob's voice was next. "Lila!" He yelled for his wife who was instructing her little team before they started playing. "Where the hell is Blair?" She looked up, shrugged then resumed her mini-coaching session, not seeming to worry about the whereabouts of her sixteen-year-old daughter relative to Brandis' location. "Goddamn it, Gordon," Rob kicked the ball hard. Jack took it straight to the balls.

  "Ow! Jesus Freitag… What?" Suzanne's old friend, Sara's husband, groaned and tried not to grab his crotch too obviously. He glared at his friend, cupping himself while the kids fell out on the sand laughing.

  Rob kept his eyes on Jack but hollered for his son. "Gabe. Go find your sister and get her the hell away from…."

  Gabe held up a hand, nodded, and started down the beach. He moved with the grace of a natural athlete as he loped past Suzanne, Mo, and Sara who were nearly out of their respective chairs giggling. The recent discovery of Brandis and Blair in her room after his senior prom – by her father who was supposed to be out of town – had led to no small amount of tension between the two men. They were old friends, but when it came to his daughter Rob was more than a little protective and had been heard to say that "any son of Jack's" was not going near his daughter, which of course meant one thing.

  "Mommy!" Blake climbed across Suzanne and over to Mo, kissing her cheek. "I wanna play."

  She held him tight a second. Suzanne looked up and saw a serious-looking teenager who could be Maureen's daughter with her jet-black hair and bright blue eyes. Sara smiled and held out her arm for a hug. The girl obliged her then squirmed away. "Mom, stop it. I just came to get Blakie for the game," she protested, until Sara sighed, kissed her hair and let her go. She grabbed her cousin's hand.

  Mo let go of the boy. "Go with Bethany. But make sure your dad remembers to…" her voice faded when the two kids ran off without letting her finish.

  Suzanne put her hand over her eyes to find her daughter. She spotted the girl's deep red hair first, smiling at the sight of her walking along behind Gabe as he hollered for his sister. A miracle herself, the only lasting issue she had being born so early was with her hearing, and she was scheduled for corrective surgery in a few weeks, now that she'd turned fifteen. Suzanne let happiness surge through her as she watched Craig grab the girl and swing her around, making her screech with joy and terror. They both fell on the sand. Little Blake joined the girl and Bethany, helping bury Craig in the beach sand.

  Suzanne knew her daughter was obsessed with Gabe, Rob and Lila's tall, handsome blonde son and Brandis' long time "frenemy." It frightened her some, but Gabe was an amazingly gentle and kind boy. He was calm, smart, athletic and best she could tell, the two of them were just friends. For now. It made Craig nuts, she knew, but he was coming to terms with the fact that his beloved daughter was growing up.

  "I feel too blessed." She muttered.

  Sara tapped her arm, nodded in the opposite direction from where Gabe had run, thinking to find his younger sister wandering around in the water, or reading, or drawing. Suzanne put her hand over her eyes. A couple was silhouetted on the promontory, near the lighthouse. They sat close together, legs swinging over the side. Sara sighed when the boy lifted the girl's hand to his lips.

  "Here we go." She muttered. Suzanne patted her arm, then returned her gaze to her family, her friends, her child, and the love of her life.

  The End.

  Escalation Clause (Stewart Realty, Book 6)

  Coming to Sizzlin' Books - November, 2012

  The whole day had a scary edge of unreality. A distinct blur of dreamlike crazy he could not shake. Jack sat on the patio at his house, watched family and friends mingle around, murmuring under their breath, nibbling food and sipping drinks. He turned his head slowly, the effort taking so much out of him he thought he could hear his neck ligaments creaking. Sara. He needed to see her. To make sure she was okay. Well, actually just to see her.

  He spotted his friend Rob, still in a wheelchair and gaunt after the transplant surgery which had saved his life, but defying doctor's orders to be there, "for Blake's family," he claimed. His face was haggard, his eyes vacant, until Lila appeared and put their baby in his lap. He brightened then, held his son close. Jack sighed and looked away, the emotion between the two people at that moment more than he was willing to take on board.

  He spotted Suzanne, his old friend, and Blake's one-time girlfriend. She was sitting holding a plate of uneaten food, staring into the middle distance. Craig had his arm around her, was whispering in her ear. She nodded, bit her lip, then Jack saw a tear fall from her red-rimmed eyes. He looked away.

  His exhausted gaze rested on Sara's parents. Matthew Thornton had been, was still, a strong personality. Tall, good looking even in his late sixties, his presence compelled attention. Kind of like Jack's own. Probably why his wife's father made few bones about despising his daughter's choice in a husband. Any time spent with the retired, estimable Doctor Thornton was a personal exercise in frust
ration. There the man sat, shoulders slumped, staring at the ground. His wife, Beth, had not stopped crying for the better part of two weeks best Jack could tell. They were utterly undone, as well they would be, Jack supposed, unable to tear his eyes away from the train wreck of his in-laws as they mourned the horrible, accidental death of their only son.

  He jumped when someone touched his arm. He looked into the dark green eyes of his wife. Sara. Mother of his children. The woman he loved beyond life itself. Her gaze was flat, devoid of anything. She held Brandis, their infant son. "Can you...," she held the boy out. "I need to…," and she floated away. Her new habit of speaking in half sentences made him nervous. For the first time in his adult life, Jack had no idea what to say or do. There was no way to fix what had brought them all together there, a wake, for Sara's beloved brother.

  "Sure," he said to her retreating back. She'd lost weight, he mused as he jiggled his son in his arms. He looked down into the boy's bright blue eyes. Gulping at the intensity of his gaze, he imagined their first little league game, first sand castle, their first visit to Disney world, their first fight over a car, grades, messy rooms, alcohol, girls. A rare panic gripped his chest so hard he gasped.

  As if sensing his discomfort the baby made a distinctly unhappy noise, then started crying in earnest, his face reddening alarmingly. Jack looked around. He'd not been around for Katie's babyhood, thanks to the arms'-length arrangement he'd had with Sara then. He was utterly lost when it came to the creatures.

  "Daddy," Katie sat next to him and held out a bottle. "Mommy said you would need this." She handed it to him. "I tested it. It's not too hot." She kissed him, moved back to her mother's side, and gripped her hand. Jack stared at them, and then plugged the baby's screeching with the thing. As he resumed his observation of his world unraveling around him, helplessness cast a darker pall over his brain. Everyone around him was miserable, and he couldn't do anything about any of it.