Saint Rissa just smiled.
Knowledge dawned. Connie and Jeannette gasped. “You’re pregnant! How did you keep that a secret?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When? You forget, we’ve known you ever since Marlea’s accident.”
Rissa tossed her head and wrinkled her nose. “You two are never going to forgive me for telling her who ran into her car, are you?”
“Of course we forgive you. Marlea did, why wouldn’t we?”
Jeannette hummed assent and crossed her arms. “But AJ is right, you are kind of like the Mouth of the South. Remember when AJ stepped in and invited Marlea to live here after her accident, you had plenty to say—bringing her up to date. That’s how long ago, Connie? Five? Six years?”
“Let’s see…Jabari is nearly five, so that would be right at six years.” Crossing her arms, Connie slipped a hand to her cheek. “And in all that time, you have never ever kept a secret—not your own or anybody else’s. So, how far along are you?”
“Oh, and we have to plan a shower, too. Do we get to be godparents again?”
Connie huffed. “How far along are you?”
“And what about Libby? Is she going to be a godparent, too?”
“Don’t look at me,” Marlea said, dimpling when Rissa looked at her. “I already spent the hundred I won from you.”
“Still can’t believe you held me up for it when you were pretty much the one who told my business.”
“But you were the one who had all the fun part of telling.”
Rissa’s grin was sly. “I did, didn’t I?”
Marlea’s hand fanned the air between them. “You might as well go on and tell the rest of it.”
“Yes, hurry up and tell.” A sleepy toddler crawled into Jeannette’s lap and settled happily when Jeannette’s arms closed around her. “Too bad Libby is working out of state, training a new runner. She’s a good coach, but she’s going to hate missing this.”
“Don’t worry, Dench and I will tell her.”
“Lord, I can just imagine how she’ll take the news, as excited as we all know she can get. I still remember her practically running the last hundred meters of your race with you in Barcelona,” Jeannette laughed.
“She did, didn’t she?” Marlea laughed. “I guess when you’ve trained someone for as long as she trained me, you start to take a lot of responsibility for them.”
“We’ve all taken a lot of responsibility for each other, haven’t we?” Connie turned and looked at Rissa, her eyes growing misty as she took her in fully. “We got AJ and Marlea married, saw you and Dench come together, and now…”
“Uh-uh, honey. There is no way you’re taking credit for this baby.” Rissa slipped a hand over her belly and looked elegantly radiant. “Dench and I did this all on our own.”
Nia materialized at Marlea’s side. Working the ends of a braid between her fingers, she curled an arm around her mother’s neck and laid her head on her shoulder. Taking the cue, Marlea scooped her daughter up and began organizing the other women. “Mothers will be here in the next half hour, but pull out the mats and blankets. The children can nap until…”
“Just like a mother.” Rissa grinned. Pulling a pile of colorful children’s blankets from the table, she spread them over the children, who politely fell on the mats. “Me, I’m going to be so different, I’ll break the mold. I’m going to be the sexy, sassy, have it all, do it all, ‘Hot Mom.’ You know, the one who’s always in the know and has all the flavor, the ‘Super Mom.’ ”
“Lord,” Jeannette breathed, “don’t let her start singing about bringing home the bacon and frying it up in the pan, I’ll have to kill her if she does. Please, Lord, don’t let her do it.”
Connie wiggled her fingers for attention. “Anyway, ‘Hot Mom’ and Keeper of Secrets, when are you going to tell Libby?”
“Soon,” Rissa simpered.
“Not over the phone, I hope.”
“Please, not after the way she fussed when I told her that I was charting my temperature and trying to figure out our peak fertility periods. She pretty much dropped the phone and showed up at my door with baskets of eggplant, telling me that it would help me conceive.” Rissa gagged daintily behind her hand. “Dench and I still can’t stand to look at the things.”
“We’ll catch her up when she gets back.” Marlea checked to see if one of the toddlers was wet or not, and was glad to find him dry. “She’ll need some good news after national time trials. Sprinters are always so temperamental.”
“Says the woman who ran us all ragged competing for a 400-meter gold medal.” Jeannette turned on Rissa. “I’m still waiting for details, give us the details.…”
“Found out on Christmas Eve.” Rissa giggled when Connie and Jeannette turned to each other and goggled. “I’m twelve weeks, due in mid-July. You can call Dench Big Poppa if you want to—I do, and he loves it.”
“You kept a secret this big? And Dench is letting you call him Big Poppa?” Connie turned to Marlea. “I know you love her, but how are you putting up with all this?”
Marlea’s shoulders rose and fell.
“Yeah, ’cause we’ve only known about the baby for five minutes, and we’re ready to kill her,” Jeannette said. “In fact, now that I think of it, I’m impressed with the fact that everybody around here seems to have patience with Rissa’s highly active pregnant ass.”
“Well,” Rissa plopped into a chair and looked important, “my highly active pregnant ass could use some tea right about now.”
“I’ll get it.” Marlea stood and nearly bumped into Mrs. Baldwin.
“I thought this might be timely.” The housekeeper set the tray on a small table near Rissa’s chair. Pouring quickly, she handed cups and sandwiches to the women. Turning to leave, she looked at Rissa, and all of the women could have sworn that she twinkled. “Let me know if you need more,” she said, walking back to the kitchen.
Jeannette’s head swiveled, tracking Mrs. Baldwin’s progress. Turning back, mouth open, brow arched, she looked at Rissa. “That woman is totally charmed by you. I think she might have even approved of you.”
“She’s always liked me.”
Jeannette snorted derision.
“It’s the baby,” Marlea guessed. “She knows, I don’t know how, but she knows.”
“Maybe she overheard you and AJ talking, or maybe it’s because I told her.” Rissa stirred honey into her tea. “I’ve gotten good at keeping my news to myself, but I occasionally choose to share it selectively.”
“That charm doesn’t just work on Mrs. Baldwin, either.” Connie harrumphed, making the sound from deep in her throat.
“Dench is proof of that.”
“Maybe it’s something in the water,” Connie ventured, raising her cup. “Then, we’d all be blessed, wouldn’t we?”
Rissa fluttered her lashes, sipped her tea, and looked entitled.
“It must be something in those Yarborough genes. And it especially seems to always work on the opposite sex.” Connie looked over her shoulder, back into the kitchen. The men had disappeared—maybe in search of something on ESPN. “Maybe that Yarborough DNA gives off some kind of pheromones, you know, so that they only attract people like themselves.”
“Sexy people.” Jeannette’s eyes were sly. “How about it, Marlea? The Yarboroughs you and Dench got tangled up with are all tall and good looking, even their mother. Really attractive people, right? Did they charm you? Just draw you in?”
Marlea opened her mouth, but Connie reached out and slapped a quick high five on Jeannette’s palm. “Oh yeah, you’ve got a point, girl. Don’t you remember all those men following Mama Yarborough around at AJ and Marlea’s wedding?”
“Uh-huh, and at Rissa and Dench’s, the same thing happened. Mama was in there bringing sexy back in a big way. And don’t forget that last minute Christmas Eve delay. By the way, did Mama Yarborough ever get back from Mykonos?”
“Next week,” Rissa and Marlea said together
.
“Lord, makes you wonder why the family business is not bottling sexy,” Connie laughed. “They’d make a mint if they did.”
“But that’s beside the point.” Jeannette leaned forward, suddenly intense. “We were talking about you being pregnant. How does it feel, Rissa?”
Rissa sighed and used the toes of one foot to push the shoe off the other, then repeated the process. “I feel fine.”
“But you felt fine when you thought you were pregnant before, right?”
“I always feel fine.” Rissa inspected the depths of her cup.
“And you’re not spotting or anything? Has your doctor…said…anything?”
Marlea held her breath and silently cursed Connie for asking the question that had teetered on the tip of her own tongue for most of a month. Rissa looked fine, but when it came to pregnancy, looking good didn’t mean a thing. The doorbell sounded and Marlea fairly leapt from her chair. “That’s got to be somebody’s mommy.”
A child whimpered and both nurses turned to find several pairs of wide, watchful eyes measuring them. Naptime, however brief, was over. The mothers came in bunches after that. Ten spa-refreshed women, rejuvenated by afternoon retail therapy, were ready to resume active nurturing. Promising to return the favor in the near future, they spirited their children away. Left alone, Nia and Jabari looked lost until Mrs. Baldwin came along with the offer of a snack.
“Well, that was quite an afternoon, wasn’t it?” Connie stretched her arms wide, yawning with satisfaction. “I think I need a nap, now.”
“But wait a minute.” Jeannette waggled a finger at Rissa. “You never said. Did your doctor say anything?”
Rissa swirled the contents of her teacup and looked bored. “Could you just go rain on somebody else’s parade? My husband and I are making plans for our baby, and he’s walking around with his chest poked out. We haven’t decided on a color for the nursery, or a college yet, but I’ll be sure to let you know when we do. Okay?”
Connie bit her lip and sucked air. Jeannette looked uncomfortable when she stood. “It’s been a long afternoon, and I guess we should get going. We’ll see you guys later.”
Marlea stood and both nurses shook their heads. “That’s okay, we know where the coats are. We’ll just…See you.”
Blinking, Marlea watched them go. She waited until she could see Connie’s small car rolling down the driveway before turning to Rissa. “What was that about?”
“What?” Rissa struggled to keep her litigator’s tone intact.
“Damn it, Rissa, don’t make me call you names, ’cause I’m not scared of you. And, don’t make me chase you for an answer, ’cause I’m faster than you’ve ever been. Besides, I married your brother. You have to talk to me.”
Rissa set the cup on the table and sighed heavily. “About what, Marlea?”
Hands on her hips, Marlea bit at the inside of her cheek and stared. Is she really going to make me say it out loud? Sitting determined and silent, Rissa waited. “I want to know what they wanted to know, Rissa. Has your doctor said anything special about your pregnancy? About your ability to carry a baby to term?”
“Nothing, Marlea. Nothing at all.”
For the briefest of moments, pain, fear, and anger chased through the depth of Rissa’s gaze and she refused to let memory stake a claim on her thoughts. Months of costly fertility treatments, nausea, and cramping had seemed a small enough price to pay for a few weeks of breathtaking possibility in her quest for motherhood. And just when it seemed that her mission would bear fruit, there was nothing.
And if I could have kept my silly mouth shut about the possibility, they wouldn’t all be looking at me like I was going to grow a third eye in the back of my head.
“Is this how everybody is going to treat me for the next six months? I’m not going to get to enjoy being pregnant, especially after waiting so long for it?” Rissa closed her eyes and blew out hard. She took a deep breath before she opened her eyes. “I’ve talked to my doctor, and I’m not worried. Why should you be? I can’t wait to be this big.” She stretched her arms wide. “Pregnancy is a condition, Marlea, not a disease, and I’m not worried.” Even if I don’t tell you everything my doctor said.
“Are you sure you’re not doing selective listening? Only hearing what you want to hear?” Marlea narrowed her eyes. “I know you, Rissa. You’ve got a mouth like a sieve and a head like a rock.”
“I hear everything my doctor says.” Even if I don’t want to. On her last checkup, Joyce Ashton had said something about her cervix. When Joyce said the words, they came out in slow, measured tones and Rissa barely recognized them even as she heard herself ask what they meant to her and her baby. Your cervix is short, the doctor said, almost as though it had been partitioned. And what in the world did that mean? When Joyce said something about high risk, Rissa had stopped listening.
Now, facing Marlea, Rissa knew she’d blocked most of the words—couldn’t remember them if she had to. The only thing she remembered, she was afraid to admit, and could never say to Dench. Joyce had warned her that the heavier the fetus, the greater the possibility of losing it. But just because there’s a warning doesn’t always mean that there’s always danger ahead. I’m healthy. Sometimes warnings only exist to instill caution. And I’ve done my research. I’m cautious. I’m watching my weight, I’m not engaging in any dangerous activity, I don’t smoke or drink…
Lifting her head higher, Rissa looked at Marlea and squared her shoulders. “I’m not worried about a thing.”
Chapter 5
“You could call in, play hooky.”
“No, I’ll go in, make sure all the contracts are signed and be back in a few hours. I’m just jealous that you can spend the day working from home.”
The arms that enclosed her came as no surprise. Distinctly male flesh, planes and strength, pressed at her back, supporting her softness. Bringing her hands up to trace the muscles of his arms, her fingers linked with his, and she found herself admiring the red-tinged bronze of his skin against the warm gold of her own. Looking up, she found his eyes in the mirror and smiled.
“Damn, our baby is going to be pretty.” His breath was warm against her throat and she felt the words soak into her skin. “I’m going to have to start early, teaching him to use his powers for good.”
“And if it’s a girl?”
“I’m gonna buy a bat.”
“Way to go, Big Poppa.” Her fingers tightened on his, and though she didn’t try very hard, she couldn’t tear her eyes from the mirror. When his mouth closed on her throat, her knees softened and nearly gave way. “Keep doing that and I’m going to miss my meeting.” Holding her closer he did it again, finding her rhythm this time. His eyes laughed when her head fell back and she moaned, “You are a wicked, wicked man.”
His fingers broke from hers and slipped low with wanton determination. She called his name when questing fingers found the lacy edges of a final barrier.
“Should I stop?”
“Wicked man,” she whispered, gasping when his fingers answered.
Going with him, no fear of falling, Rissa dropped all pretense of thought. She forgot about work, the time it would take to redress, apologies she might have to make, and what anyone else might think. She gave herself fully to the joys of the only man who had ever stolen her breath.
Whimpers, sighs, moans, and the ocean of heat she brought with her burned his blood and cindered his thought. Ebbing and flowing with her hunger, knowing the keys to her satisfaction, Dench found himself before his wife with no words and he wanted to pull her deep into his heart, right through the very skin that separated them.
When she collapsed against his chest, wet and sated, he knew only two things: I’m happy. She makes me happy. His arms felt a little worn from the work of her, but she was always worth it. Looking at her, he was glad he’d made the effort.
“Wow,” she breathed, pulling far enough away to look at him. Her eyes were soft and her lips swollen, and she loo
ked ready to fall with him again. She sighed and laughed softly, then dropped her head to his chest. “I have to get to the office, but I don’t want to move—not now, not ever.”
His finger found a tear-shaped drop of sweat between her breasts. “That makes two of us, but we’ve got to do what we’ve got to do.” His palm curved over the swell of her belly. “Don’t want this baby to be homeless, right?”
“Wicked and practical, too. Such a complicated man.” Her tiny kiss at the corner of his mouth grabbed his heart and held it tight when his hand travelled low again. She caught his hand and held it as she escaped his embrace.
Slipping across the radiant flooring and into the shower, Rissa turned on the water, admiring the flash of her wedding ring. It was always hard, coming back from a long weekend, particularly one as special as their Valentine’s weekend at Biltmore Estate. Rissa closed her eyes and enjoyed the memory again. Long hours of touching and just breathing the same air had been better than anything she might have thought of on her own. Dench had thought of it and planned the weekend getaway to Ashville.
The car trip had been pleasant and the North Carolina countryside reminded her of a postcard. Ashville on its own was beautiful, but their sumptuous suite at the Biltmore was romantic enough to make her feel like a new bride again. But this time, I’m the mommy, and goodness knows, the daddy sure did make me feel good about it. Through the clear glass walling the shower, she saw Dench move in the room beyond where she stood and stroked the ring with her thumb, moving it against her skin.
Stepping under the spray, she stood tall and slender, with warm water pouring over her swollen breasts and exquisitely sensitized skin. Almost five months, she marveled. Who knew the time could go this fast? Filling her palm with the jasmine and honey shower gel Dench loved to smell on her skin, Rissa pushed her stomach out and laughed at her baby bump.
Sliding her hand over the swell of her baby as she saw her husband moving nearby made her smile—then she remembered. Joyce wants me to see a specialist. Rissa reached for a loofah and the smile slipped from her lips. Putting the appointment off couldn’t make that big a difference. I just wanted to enjoy the weekend first. She scrubbed the loofah across her shoulders and ignored the little hair of concern that crawled across her psyche. I told her I would, and I will. Stepping closer to the falling water, feeling herself in his eyes, Rissa turned her head. Dench stood in the doorway watching her. She lifted her fingers to him and was pleased when he waved back.
Dream Keeper Page 7
