Family Be Mine

by Tracy Kelleher

  “It’s true. It’s a good thing they live in San Antonio. It would be even better if they moved to Guam,” Lena agreed.

  “And now I don’t even have Tiger to be near me.” Wanda bit back tears.

  “You’ll be getting his ashes in a few weeks—in a beautiful cedar box, and I think we should say goodbye to him in style. We’ll have a lovely ceremony and spread his ashes wherever you want. We could even spread them here at the tennis courts. He always liked sitting by the picnic table.”

  Wanda looked fondly at the table next to the court. Dogs were strictly prohibited from the courts, which hadn’t stopped Wanda or Tiger. “He did, didn’t he?”

  Lena breathed in, though not entirely easily. Finding a suitable resting place for Tiger was a relatively simple problem. Rescuing Wanda was another entirely.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  “OKAY, YOU CAN TAKE YOUR FEET down from the stirrups now.” Julie rolled her stool away, stripped off her rubber gloves and threw them in the medical-waste bin.

  “Everything appears just the way it should. I don’t think we need to do anything further for now. You say the fainting spells have leveled off?”

  Sarah swung her legs to the side and rolled to a sitting position. The paper gown she’d put on for the exam was woefully insufficient. “I’ve felt a little-light headed once or twice but nothing serious, especially now that I’m following your advice on snacking and all that stuff.”

  “You’re still going to the water aerobics class?” Julie wrote notes while she questioned Sarah.

  “The second class meets tomorrow night, and I was planning on going—with Hunt.”

  “Well, I want you to be careful. If you feel at all faint, out of the water—pronto.” She looked up from her clipboard. “And how are things with Mr. Hunt? You know, I still remember him from high school. He was two years ahead of me and was this golden god. How the mighty have fallen.”

  Sarah frowned at Julie’s tone. “Hunt’s doing pretty well, considering the chemo treatment, not to mention lymphoma.” She ignored the raised eyebrows from Julie. “Can I get dressed? Because if I weren’t monumentally pregnant right now, I’d be totally freezing.”

  “Oh, yeah, you can put your clothes on. Then we’ll have a talk in my office next door.” She stood up and walked to the door. And stopped. “Lymphoma, huh? I figured something like that from the evidence of the chemo treatment. What type?”

  “Hodgkin’s.”

  “As cancers go, that’s a good one.”

  “It seems his prognosis is good, but at the same time, it’s easy for us to say. If you’re going through it, I’m sure it’s not that reassuring—like telling someone they’re only a little bit pregnant.”

  “You’re right. Anyway, the way I look at it, if he can survive his mother—who has been very generous to the hospital, I must confess—he can survive anything.” She turned. “I’ll just wait outside while you get dressed.”

  Sarah rolled off the table and reached for her clothes. She slipped on her underpants and her leggings. The elastic waistband had stretched to twice its original size. The only thing more gigantic was the ugly white bra she was just about to put on, her cup size having risen liked activated yeast. She gave up trying to do the hooks behind her and swung the bra around to the front to do up the fastners.

  Julie’s comment about Hunt’s mother came back to haunt her. She stared down at her belly. “You think I’ll be a good mother? What if I don’t love you? Who’s to say I will? There’re no guarantees, you know, that some mysterious spark will be there, that an instant bond will form.”

  She shrugged, but her anxieties remained even as she finished dressing. She picked up her knapsack and opened the door, ready to walk down the hall with Julie. But she was talking on her cell, so Sarah headed for the office alone. And practically stumbled over Hunt.

  He was sitting in one of two chairs facing Julie’s desk and stood as soon as he saw her. “So are you all right? No complications?”

  “Hunt, didn’t I tell you that you could stay in the waiting room, and that I’d tell you all about it?”

  “Naomi the office manager was so nice. She told me I could come in for the consultation after the exam,” Hunt said.

  Sarah shook her head, but she let him stay.

  “So?” He straightened the chair for Sarah to sit. “What’s the verdict?”

  Julie marched in, took one look at Hunt and harrumphed. “Well, this is a surprise.”

  “As soon as I came into the reception area, I could tell immediately this was your office,” Hunt said, seemingly oblivious to Julie’s skepticism. “It was all the needlepoint pillows. Sarah’s shown me some that you made for her, too. You know, my mother would love your work—all those intricate stitches. Maybe you could give a talk at her club some time?”

  Sarah patted his hand and looked over to Julie, who for once had no quick rejoinder. “So, should we tell him, doctor, that I am expecting?”

  He glanced at Julie. “And here she told me it was heartburn.” Hunt turned serious. “Really, she’s okay, right?”

  Julie fussed with the paper clip that held together the top sheets of Sarah’s file, and then finally, she cleared her throat and looked up.

  “As I told Sarah in the examining room, everything appears to be normal for someone in her thirty-first week of pregnancy. Now that you’re being more careful, the fainting seems to have abated—not that I’m giving you license to drive again, you understand.” She gave them both a cold eye and only eased off when they murmured agreement.

  She made a few more notes on the file. “So, I’m holding off on other tests unless the symptoms get worse. The water aerobics class is fine, in fact, any regular exercise, but just be careful if you start to feel any light-headedness. You’re still taking the prenatal vitamins?” Julie waited.

  Hunt looked at Sarah.

  She nodded.

  “Good,” Hunt said, and turned to Julie. “Anything else she should be taking?”

  Sarah patted him on the thigh. “Easy, Hunt, I’ve got this under control.” She rubbed her forehead. “I’m taking iron, too, okay?”

  “Problem with constipation?” Julie asked. She looked at Sarah. Her tongue could be seen pressing her cheek out. Her eyes danced in obvious amusement.

  Sarah looked at the ceiling. “I’m taking the stool softener you prescribed. Do you need the details?”

  Julie wisely went back to examining her notes. “Another thing, are you going to Lamaze classes?”

  “Yeah, I’ve done two already—with Katarina. She’s my birthing partner, as you know. But I got an e-mail from her over the weekend that with school cancelled for some teachers’ convention, she and Ben are taking Matt to visit colleges, and she won’t be able to make it tonight. So I think I’ll just give it a miss for one week.”

  Julie rested her chin on her hand. “Gee, Matt is already at that stage? What is he, a junior?”

  “Yeah, can you believe it? Apparently, people start this college thing when their kids still have a year to go. I think Ben and Katarina are freaking out about it.”

  Hunt held up his hand. “Excuse me. About this Lamaze class thing. Couldn’t I be your, what did you call it, birth partner, for the one class?” He pulled out his BlackBerry. “It’s…ah…when?”

  Julie studied him, then glanced at Sarah. “And here I thought you were the compulsively organized one among us.”

  Sarah ignored Julie’s comment. “It’s really not necessary,” she said quickly to Hunt.

  “Don’t listen to her. I think it’s a good idea,” Julie said more loudly and only a beat later. She scanned her notes with a smirk. “Lastly, have you picked out a pediatrician?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I know there’re two groups in town, and I thought I’d ask around to get some opinions and then set up an office visit. I’m sure my trusty sidekick here will be happy to come along,” she said somewhat condescendingly.

  Julie laughed and closed Sarah�
��s file. “I’ll let you two work out the details. That’s it for today. You can make the appointment for next week at the same time.”

  “That soon?” Hunt asked, getting to his feet. He slipped his phone into his pocket and readjusted his jacket under his arm.

  “It’s just the regular routine.” Sarah got up slowly.

  “Come, Mother Hen. You can put that appointment on your calendar, too, if it makes you feel better.”

  They made the appointment with the receptionist, and Hunt assisted Sarah with her jacket as they headed outside for the car. Slipping into their new routine, he helped her with her seat belt, which she appreciated, she really did, but somehow…

  “You know, I appreciate your interest and all your help—I really do—but you don’t need to worry about my every need.”

  “You bake cookies, I worry, okay?”

  “Funny, you don’t come across as a worrier. You know, you really should lower your stress levels. It’s not good for you.”

  “I’m not working. I’m financially secure. I have a housekeeper. I have a constant supply of baked goods. My major options during the day are which route do I walk the dog, and when to turn on CNN. If I have any less stress I’ll turn into a sea slug.”

  “I get the point. But really, you don’t need to mother me. I’m actually quite good at being independent.” She placed her hand on his chin and looked him in the eye.

  “Do you really think I’m doing this because I want you to think of me as your mother?” He rubbed his chin back and forth against her palm.

  Sarah felt herself blushing and went to lower her hand.

  Hunt caught it and cupped it in his. He brought his head closer. The black centers of his gray-blue eyes were large. His expression conveyed sincerity. And more—much more.

  Sarah shifted her eyes slightly downward to his open mouth. She felt his light, warm breath on her skin, his long fingers gently massaging her hand.

  “I don’t want you to be my mother, either,” she said in a whisper.

  “Sarah, watch me,” he said.

  She looked up.

  He smiled. “Wow! I didn’t even need a treat to get you to respond, but maybe this will do.”

  Then he kissed her, hard and swift. She took her hand from his grasp and brought her arms to his shoulders, and she kissed back with a longing that was so deep it almost hurt. It was like diving into an unknown abyss—but one that beckoned with flames of desire that licked at her heels and scorched her insides.

  Finally, he drew back.

  Slowly, she opened her eyes. “Wow is right. You’re going to have to turn on the defroster to unfog the windows.” She fanned her face.

  He leaned forward and kissed her again, this time a series of nips and nibbles on her lips.

  She could feel the heat rising again, and she didn’t even bother with the excuse of hormones. She knew better.

  It was all Hunt. She liked him. More than liked him. She hadn’t come looking for it, and she’d certainly tried to avoid it. But no matter what, she couldn’t kid herself any longer.

  Maybe she was attracted to him because it proved that she was still a desirable woman. And maybe he was attracted to her because it proved an inner potency, a life force that had been restored.

  If it was mutually self-serving, so be it. But it was also no use pretending any longer that something wasn’t happening between them. And that something was inevitable, as well.

  So what did she say after such a revelation?

  “Gee, that was a novel way to wrap up a prenatal visit” was the best she could come up with.

  “You think that wraps things up?”

  “You and I both know it doesn’t,” she said. There was no point in being coy.

  “Tell me you don’t have a patient scheduled anytime soon,” he said.

  She looked at her watch. Nine-thirty. “Unfortunately, I’ve got one at ten.” She sighed. The inevitable would have to be postponed. “Listen, just drop me off at work directly. It won’t hurt to get to the office early.”

  “No way. We still have time to drive home, pick up the Hairy Demon and walk to work.”

  “But I thought you couldn’t stand walking to work?”

  Hunt absentmindedly rubbed the scratch on the side of his face, a reminder of yesterday’s dog obedience class. “Maybe I’m trying to get in good with my personal trainer so she will take pity on me this evening?”

  “You want pity?” Sarah smirked.

  “Honey, I’ll take it any way I can get it.” Hunt bit back a smile. “Besides, just remember all this walking is increasing my stamina.”

  “Thank you for embedding that thought in my head for the whole day,” she said.

  “Good.” Hunt started the engine. “Well, I’m glad we got that whole mothering thing worked out.”

  “SO DID YOU WANT ME TO PICK UP anything besides cranberry juice and baking soda at the supermarket?” Hunt asked as they approached the parking lot behind Sarah’s office. He took a much needed moment to recoup his breath after the brisk walk, and Fred obligingly stopped to sniff the azaleas planted around the building.

  He had to admit, though, the walk was getting easier. Progress, even in baby steps, he told himself.

  “That’s baking powder, not soda,” Sarah corrected.

  “Powder, soda. What’s the big difference?”

  “Pretty big if you want a chocolate cake tonight, trust me.”

  “I do. I do.” He leaned over and snuck a kiss.

  “Hey, are you trying to destroy my professional image outside my place of work?” She grabbed his sleeve and pulled him close.

  “I’d like to destroy a lot more than your image, but a sense of decorum and not wanting to embarrass Fred restrains me from doing so.”

  She laughed, and they walked arm in arm to the door. Fred, perhaps sensing that this moment of shared happiness might result in a treat, trotted along, a model of the well-trained dog.

  Hunt was starting to think there was hope for the animal after all. He was warm and furry, which were two bonuses up front. If he could only learn to do things like walk nicely on a leash, not cower every time he saw a strange man, and not eat stray loafers, he would be perfect.

  Sarah turned the doorknob. “Rufus will be so impressed to see how Fred has improved in just one day. What a good boy,” Sarah said in that singsongy voice that dog owners assumed when they were praising their pets. “And you know what, Fred? You’ll even get a chance to show him now. He’s my first appointment.” She opened the door.

  And stopped dead in her tracks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  HUNT NEARLY RAN UP HER HEELS, especially with Fred pulling him toward a set of chairs in the waiting room.

  “Rufus,” Hunt said, acknowledging the object of Fred’s interest.

  “Sarah?” The voice belonged to a man who stood by the counter across the room.

  Hunt turned toward the voice—and the man. He was in his early thirties, clean shaven, and with short, gelled brown hair. He wore high-end workout clothes and the latest running shoes. He positively glowed with health, like an advertisement for a sports drink.

  Hunt hated him instantly.

  “Zach,” Sarah said curtly before abruptly turning to Rufus. “Rufus, we can go right back, if you want?”

  “Not before I give my buddy Fred here a treat. What a good dog. You’re not scared of me anymore, are you?” Rufus fumbled in his pocket and produced a liver treat.

  Fred gobbled it down quickly, tilted his head and waited for more.

  The man she’d called “Zach” held out his hand toward her protruding baby belly. “You’re…you’re…” He fumbled for words. “You’re really pregnant.”

  Sarah barely graced him with a glance. “So my doctor tells me.” She pressed one hand to the small of her back.

  Hunt stepped forward next to Sarah. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Hunt Phox. And I gather you’re Zach?”

  Zach nodded. “Pleased to mee
t you. Nice dog you’ve got there.” Zach made the mistake of reaching out to pet Fred, who immediately scampered behind Hunt and Sarah, slinking his body low to the ground.

  “He’s shy, isn’t he?” Zach backpedaled.

  “No, he just has good taste.” Sarah turned around and made kissing noises to Fred. “It’s all right, Fred. Zach was just leaving.”

  “But, Sarah, I came by to talk to you,” Zach said, a pleading note to his voice.

  “Not now. I’ve got a client who demands my professional attention. Unless you’ve made an appointment and have a doctor’s prescription….” She looked over at Rosemary who was pretending to be busy on the computer. “Does he have an appointment?” Sarah asked her.

  Rosemary lifted her head. “Oh, ah…” She made a cursory glance at the printout of the day’s clients. “Not that I see here.”

  Sarah held up her hands. “In which case, I will say goodbye. Goodbye.” She offered the briefest of waves and shifted her attention to Rufus. “Shall we begin the torture?” she asked playfully.

  “Not before I give my friend Fred another treat,” Rufus said. He produced another liver bit. “Fred, watch me.”

  Fred watched as perfectly as if he’d been doing it his whole life.

  “You’ve been working hard with him, Hunt. I can tell.”

  “Actually, it’s been a joint effort, so you should compliment Sarah, too,” Hunt said.

  “You own a dog now?” Zach asked.

  Sarah rubbed her forehead. “It’s a long story.” She moved to go down the hallway.

  “Sarah?” Hunt held out his hand to stop her.

  She looked over her shoulder, her eyebrows raised.

  “Maybe you should just take a moment to hear what he has to say?”

  Sarah shook her head. “I’m sorry, Hunt, but you don’t have the right to tell me how to treat my ex-fiancé.”

  “You’re right.” He paused. “When should I pick you up?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Let’s see. I’ve got to go to the hospital in the afternoon, but I can just walk over during my lunch break. It’s not far. I have to see a bunch of patients there, but I tell you what. Why don’t you check with Rosemary about my schedule? It’s on her computer, and then you can just meet me at the hospital reception desk when it’s time.”