by Judy Duarte
“All right, we’ll be waiting for you. When do you plan to come?”
Samantha glanced at the clock on Hector’s mantel. “Would forty-five minutes work for you?”
“Yes, we’ll see you then.”
They said goodbye, and Samantha disconnected the line. After refreshing her lipstick and running a brush through her hair, she locked Hector’s house and climbed into her car.
Just before ten, she gave her name to the guard at the gate of Brockman Hills, the exclusive enclave where the Keatings lived. When she was allowed in, she drove to the sprawling estate that was a far cry from the humble brownstone in which Samantha’s mother had lived.
Before Samantha and Peter’s wedding, Marian and Randall had tried their best to convince the couple to purchase a place in Brockman Hills, but Samantha had refused to live that close to Peter’s parents. She’d feared there would be too much interference, since his parents weren’t anywhere as easygoing as Peter had been. So she’d talked Peter into purchasing the house on Primrose Lane instead, which was still impressive by most people’s standards.
Marian, of course, had disagreed, but that was no surprise. She’d often found Samantha’s taste to be lacking.
But maybe that would change, once Marian realized that Samantha was offering them something no one else ever could.
After shutting off the ignition, Samantha took a minute to breathe deeply, to consider the words she would say. She wasn’t so worried about how Randall would react, but Marian had always been…well, Marian.
Thoughts of Peter’s mother reminded Samantha of the day she’d been forced to make the most difficult decision she’d ever had to make: to remove life support and let Peter die.
Marian hadn’t been ready to let go of her only child, and she’d turned on Samantha as if she’d done something horrid.
“No!” Marian Keating had cried. “You can’t do that, Samantha. Not yet. Miracles happen every day. We’ll call in the top neurologists in the country.”
Randall had slipped an arm around his wife’s shoulders and dropped his graying head in acceptance. “The accident has left our boy brain-dead, dear. And as much as I hate to say this, Samantha has made the right decision. We can’t hang on to his body when he’s already gone.”
Samantha had appreciated her father-in-law’s support and had clung to his words when she’d given doctors the final okay.
Randall had also acknowledged Peter’s desire to be an organ donor and again nodded when Samantha had agreed to that, too.
Maybe, just maybe, when she offered the Keatings the ultimate gift of grandchildren, Marian would finally accept her and consider her a permanent part of the family.
As Samantha made her way along the walkway to the front door, she swallowed her nervousness.
Randall and Marian hadn’t known about the sperm extraction, let alone the in vitro fertilization. She’d kept her secret, waiting to make sure that the implantation would take, that the pregnancy would proceed normally, that the baby—or rather babies—would be healthy.
However, after more than four months of silence, she could tell the world, starting with the Keatings. But for some reason, she was hesitant to ring the bell.
After the initial surprise, she had a feeling they’d be happy. At least, she hoped they would be.
She took a deep breath, then pushed the button. Moments later, Antonia, the Keatings’ longtime housekeeper, answered the door.
Antonia smiled warmly. “Hello, Mrs. Keating.” When her gaze lit upon Samantha’s baby bump, she sobered, yet she held her tongue and shielded her expression. “I’ll let Mrs. Keating know you’re here.”
“Thank you.”
It had always bothered Samantha that the efficient woman had shared the same house with the Keatings, yet had never forgotten her place. Still, Samantha had always played the game whenever she came to visit, too; it had been easier that way.
As Marian entered the marble-tiled foyer, with her silver-laced hair swept into an elegant twist, she smiled—until her gaze dropped to Samantha’s stomach. At that, she drew up short, and she placed a bejeweled hand upon her chest. “Oh, dear.”
Randall joined her, his jovial smile fading quickly.
It had taken Peter’s parents, especially his mother, a long time to warm up to her. Samantha had always believed it was because she’d grown up poor and had been a fish out of water when it came to the Keatings’ social standing. But Peter had showed her the ropes, and she’d eventually caught on. But right this minute, she suspected that any headway she’d made with Peter’s help had been lost.
“You remarried?” Marian asked, nearly choking on her words.
“No,” Samantha said, her hand immediately shielding the mound where the babies grew. “But I have something to tell you that I hope will please you.”
Marian stiffened. “I’m afraid your pregnancy is only a sad reminder that Peter wasn’t able to have a family.”
“That’s not entirely true.” Samantha pointed to the arched doorway that led to the living room. “Let’s sit down. You’re going to want to hear this. I promise.”
Marian stood rock still for a moment. Then she began to move stiffly into the living room. Randall waited for Samantha to follow, then brought up the rear.
Once they were seated, Samantha spoke. “Five years ago, right before Peter died, we discussed having a baby.”
Marian’s eyes glistened, and her bottom lip quivered. But she remained stoical.
“When he was on life support, and they were—” she hated to say “harvesting his organs,” which seemed so harsh, so clinical, and corrected herself in midsentence “—when they were making preparations to save the lives of others, I asked them to extract his sperm. I thought that, after time, I might like to have the baby we’d planned to have. Not right away, of course.”
She’d known better than to conceive a child until after her grief passed, but it had helped during that first lonely year to know that one day a part of Peter would live on. Having Peter’s son or daughter was the least she could do for the man who’d loved her and had offered her a life of luxury, as well as a peaceful, loving home.
Randall cocked his head to one side. “Are you telling me that you’re pregnant with Peter’s child?”
Samantha nodded, but before she could explain further, Marian asked, “Why did you wait so long to tell us?”
“At first I didn’t know if the in vitro fertilization would take. And then I wanted to make sure I got through the first trimester, since I knew how disappointed you—well, all of us—would be if something went wrong. But everything is going well.”
Marian wrinkled her brow, creating a deep V in her forehead. “But you’re so far along. I can’t believe you waited so long to tell us. When is the baby due?”
“Not for another eighteen weeks or so.”
“Eighteen more weeks?” Marian looked at Samantha’s midsection and scrunched her face. “Are you sure there hasn’t been some mistake?”
“Relax, Marian.” Randall got to his feet. “This is a miracle we’d never anticipated. And I, for one, am thrilled to hear it.”
Samantha smiled. “Actually, Randall, it’s three times a miracle. I’m going to have triplets, two boys and a girl.”
Marian, who usually had something to say about everything, appeared to be speechless, but in a heartfelt way.
“I would never have guessed that you might do something like this,” Randall said.
“At the time, I was so heartbroken, that it was hard to think clearly. So I can’t explain why I did it in the first place. I didn’t want to let Peter go. And while it helped to know that through his death and the gift of his organs a lot of other people were able to live, I wasn’t going to be a part of those lives. So his sperm and our dream of having a family were the only things that I was able to keep.”
“This is…such a stunning surprise,” Marian finally said, tears welling in her eyes. “A magical, wonderful surprise.”
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Samantha reached for her purse. “Would you like to see a picture of the babies?”
Marian wrinkled her brow. “Excuse me?”
Samantha pulled out the ultrasound photos that Dr. Demetrios had given her last Wednesday. She handed them to the Keatings, who immediately scooted together on the sofa so they could see their grandchildren.
“Baby A is a boy,” she said. “I’m going to call him Andrew for the time being. Referring to them as letters of the alphabet sounds so cold and clinical. I’ve been calling Baby B Brandon and Baby C Chloe, but that will probably change as the weeks go by. I know it sounds weird, but it helps me keep them straight in my mind when the doctor talks about them and their positions.”
“I would think you’d want to name the first-born boy Peter Randall Keating,” Marian said. “It would mean a lot to us.”
Samantha supposed it would. But she’d already gone above and beyond for the Keatings. If things continued to develop between her and Hector, she didn’t feel comfortable naming one of the babies after Peter. It just didn’t seem right.
And even if Hector weren’t involved in her life, she didn’t want to single out one boy over the other, even when it came to a name. So she decided to speak her mind, hopefully putting an end to any further discussion about it. “If there was only one boy, I might have considered that, Marian. But I don’t want there to be any jealousy or hard feelings between them, so I’ll give them their own names.”
Randall and Marian grew quiet for a moment, their eyes focused on the grainy ultrasound photos.
Samantha wondered if they would argue or object to her reason for not naming either boy Peter, but they didn’t.
When Randall finally looked up, his eyes red-rimmed and swimming in emotion, he said, “You have no idea how much this means to us, Samantha.”
Marian opened her mouth to speak, then choked on the words, as tears slid down her cheeks, smearing her mascara. She finally sniffled and said, “I can’t believe it.” She reached for her husband’s hand, gave it an affectionate squeeze and peered at him with watery eyes. “We’re going to be grandparents after all, honey. I can’t wait to tell our friends.”
Randall offered her a loving grin, then turned to Samantha. “Is there anything you need? Anything at all?”
“No. I’m fine. Peter took very good care of me, even after he passed away.”
And he had. He’d kept his trust in order, and everything that had been his was now hers.
“You must have loved him dearly,” Marian said. “I knew that you did, but to do this for him…for us…”
“Peter was a wonderful man, and we lost him too soon.” Samantha had loved him, of course. How could she not have? And she would never forget him. But she’d moved on in her life and looked forward to creating a family of her own.
A family she’d be sharing with the Keatings.
She wondered how Hector would feel about that.
On Saturday morning, Hector went to Samantha’s house and opened up the windows to air it out. The work was finished, and the only sign that the painter had been there was the lingering paint fumes.
After the house had been aired out for an hour or more, Hector agreed to let Samantha take a quick look at the nursery before he would usher her back outside again.
“It’s darling,” she said. “I’m so happy I chose that wallpaper pattern. I can’t wait to hang white eyelet curtains and to fill the room with furniture. In fact, I think I’ll go shopping and buy the cribs today.”
“I could drive you,” he said. “If you want me to.”
“Really?” she asked, those blue eyes sparking with her smile.
Well, it wasn’t exactly his first choice of things to do on a Saturday, like the golf game he’d canceled. But he’d come to enjoy her company, and she’d be going back home soon.
“Sure,” he told her. “I don’t have anything better to do.”
Fifteen minutes later, they parked at The Baby Boutique and went inside.
Hector was amazed at all the odds and ends that filled the store. Who would have guessed babies needed so much stuff?
They went right to the furniture section, where he looked for the white crib she’d seen in the newspaper ad. He spotted it near a display of teddy bears and pointed it out.
“What do you think?” she asked as she ran a hand along the railing.
He thought it appeared to be a functional baby bed, but something told him she was looking for a better response than that. “It ought to look good in the nursery, although it might get cramped in there with three cribs.”
“I’ll probably only buy one dresser, so I think it will all fit.”
As she checked out the mattress, he scanned the shelves of stuffed animals, grabbing three bears—one brown, the others white and black. “This will be my contribution to the nursery.”
She spotted the stuffed teddy bears in his arms and smiled. “You don’t have to do that, Hector.”
“I want to.”
“Then thank you.” She continued to study him, her eyes filled with some kind of emotion he didn’t dare question, emotion that seemed to have a lot more value than the cost of three little bears.
When they were interrupted by a salesclerk, a matronly brunette, Samantha ordered three cribs and a matching dresser. She also picked out mattresses that were the top of the line.
“It’ll take about a week to ten days for these to come in,” the clerk said.
“Can I have them delivered?”
“You bet.” The clerk wrote up the order then asked for Samantha’s address.
She paid for the furniture with her credit card, and Hector whipped out a couple of twenties for the stuffed bears. Instead of waiting for the clerk to go to another station to find a big enough bag, they walked toward the store exit with his purchase in his arms.
“How about an ice-cream cone?” Hector asked. “There’s a shop not far from here that offers a huge selection.”
Samantha cast him a pretty smile. “Here you are, carrying three stuffed animals and asking for an ice-cream cone. How cute is that?”
It was probably more sappy than cute, he supposed, but he didn’t care. He was looking forward to seeing that nursery come together, too.
They were both grinning from ear to ear when they walked out of the store. Before they could head toward the parking lot, a familiar voice rang out. “Hey, would you look at that.”
Hector turned to see Yolanda, who was carrying a shopping bag that was stuffed to the brim.
Yolanda glanced at the teddy bears in Hector’s arms and laughed. “You stopped here to buy stuffed animals?”
“Actually,” Samantha said, “I ordered the furniture for the nursery. It’s going to be delivered next week.”
“What’s in the bag?” Hector asked his sister.
“Things I want to return. My friends threw a baby shower for me last Saturday, and I got way too many of some things and not enough of others.” Yolanda turned to Samantha. “Have you had a shower yet?”
“No, not yet. I’m really not expecting one, though. But that’s okay. I’m having fun buying things. And on the bright side, that means I won’t have anything to exchange.”
Yolanda shuffled her bag from one hand to the other. “Everyone needs to have a shower. Besides, with a first baby, there’s so much you need to get. And you’re going to need three times as much. Without a shower, it’ll be expensive.”
Hector didn’t see any point in telling his sister that Samantha didn’t have any financial worries.
“Well,” he said, “I’d like to get these teddy bears into the car before someone I know spots me with them.”
Yolanda laughed. “I’m someone you know.”
“You don’t count,” Hector said.
“Maybe not, but I sure wish I had a camera so I could show Mom. She’d love to see a picture of my macho brother getting soft around the edges.”
“Mom doesn’t count, either, although I’d hate t
o have those pictures get out. I was more concerned about one of the other attorneys in my firm or maybe opposing counsel seeing me with my arms full of stuffed animals.”
“It’s amazing what the arrival of little babies will do to us, isn’t it?”
His sister had a point, he realized, although it wasn’t the babies but their mama that was doing that to him. He was definitely softening, though. He’d be golfing today if he hadn’t decided to hang out with Samantha instead.
“I won’t keep you,” Yolanda said, “but I’d like you to come to my house next Saturday afternoon around four.”
“What’s going on?” Hector asked.
She paused, as though thinking of a response, then said. “Chad and I are having a combination potluck/taco bar. For the most part, it’ll be very casual. And it will just be family.”
“It’s okay with me.” Hector glanced at Samantha, who shrugged and said, “I don’t have any plans.”
“Then Saturday it is,” Yolanda said with a smile.
Hector could see the wheels in her mind turning. Was she making assumptions about his love life again? Or was she planning something other than tacos next Saturday? He wasn’t sure, but he’d give her a call later to find out.
He didn’t mind surprises, as long as he was springing them on someone else.
“I’d better go,” Yolanda said, her eyes lighting up in a way that suggested she really was up to something. “I’ve got a lot to do, and not much time to do it.”
So she did have something up her sleeve. Knowing his sister, it could be anything. But he kept his thoughts to himself as he and Samantha started toward the parking space where he’d left his car.
He glanced at the teddy bears he held. He wished he’d waited for the salesclerk to get the shopping bag.
If his arms weren’t full, he would have slipped his hand in hers.
Chapter Eleven
Samantha officially moved back to her house on Monday morning, but she and Hector continued to eat dinner together each night.
