The Baby Gift

by Bethany Campbell

  “I’d take you in my arms to comfort you,” he said. “But your father might be out in the bushes with a periscope.”

  “No,” Briana said, “he uses binoculars—from the kitchen window.”

  “I feel his eyes on us at this very moment,” Josh said. He took a hearty slug of the brandy.

  Briana raised her head and stared glumly into the fire. “They’ll know what time you leave, all right.”

  He turned to her. “Maybe I shouldn’t leave.”

  She gazed at him. Most people’s faces seemed softened by firelight. His looked more rugged, more elemental. She remembered gazing into that face, shadowed by dim lamplight, while they made love for the first time. Her heart gave a small, involuntary flip.

  “I wish you didn’t have to go,” she said. “But this is no time to make a stand against them. Larry’s sick, Poppa’s sick, his house is full of strangers. My hormones are hopping around like jumping beans and—all I can think of…” She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

  He did it for her. “And all you can think of is what’s happening in that lab. To the fertilized eggs.”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “That’s exactly right. It’s so strange.”

  He tilted his head sardonically. “It’s also funny.”

  She stiffened, giving him a hurt look. “Funny?”

  He held his glass so he could stare through it at the firelight. “What your family fears so much has already happened. Mr. Sperm has met Ms. Egg. We may already have a baby in the making.”

  She swallowed hard. “I hope so. I pray so.”

  He touched her hair gently. “Tomorrow the center phones after they examine the eggs?”

  “Yes,” she said. She thought of the four microscopic dots in the antiseptic lab. In nine months, one of those dots might become their child. Or perhaps this whole grueling procedure would have to be repeated again and yet again.

  He finished his brandy. “You didn’t have a glass of wine. You used to like one after a hard day.”

  “No wine for a while,” she said. “I hope a long while.”

  He stroked her hair. “You mean if there’s a healthy embryo.”

  She bit her lip and nodded.

  They were silent for a long moment. He said, “It’s strange sitting in this house again, in front of this fire. It’s like I belong here and I don’t.”

  She felt his hand move slowly and silkily over her hair. “I know.”

  “Your father doesn’t want us back together. That’s more than obvious. I feel like Romeo, sneaking into enemy territory.”

  “Poppa’s jealous of you,” she said, setting her jaw. “I didn’t want to believe it when we were married. Now I know it’s true. Either he’s more open or I see more clearly.”

  “I never tried much to make him like me,” Josh said, clasping the nape of her neck. “I was too young and arrogant. And now it’s too late.”

  “It’s more than jealousy,” she said with a sigh. “He’s afraid. He’s afraid for the farm, for Larry and Larry’s family. He’s afraid for himself, too. He has been sick. He’s never faked that.”

  Josh’s hand moved to her face. He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s the long version. The short version is he’s afraid of losing you. It’s all summed up in you.”

  “And Nealie,” she said. “He loves Nealie.”

  “Yes. He does. And so do I.”

  She said, “You and Poppa are so different. You’re not afraid of anything.”

  “I’m afraid of losing Nealie. And I’m afraid I’ve already lost you. That when it comes to choosing between your family and me, you’ll always choose your family.”

  She felt tears sting her eyes and blinked them back. “That’s another difference, Josh. They need me. You don’t need anybody.”

  He leaned closer, his hand on her face. “I want you. Why can’t that be enough?”

  “Because I have responsibilities. I have promises to keep. I have a family depending on me.”

  “They depend on you too much. And it’s always crisis after crisis, one damn thing after another.”

  She drew away from him and gave him the most level look she could. “That’s what family is a lot of times. One damn thing after another. You’ve never understood that.”

  He made a sound of exasperation. “No. And maybe I can’t. I didn’t grow up the way you did.”

  She rose and paced to the fireplace. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean it to sound cruel. I’m sorry about your childhood. I’m sorry you never had a real family.”

  He, too, stood. “I did have, Briana. My family was you and Nealie. You were enough for me. But I wasn’t enough for you.”

  No! she thought with a roiling surge of emotion. It wasn’t that at all. I loved you, and I loved them, too—why did you have to make me choose between you?

  He came toward her, put his hand to her face once more. “I’m sorry. I’m upsetting you. We’re both on edge. This isn’t the time or place to discuss this.”

  He kissed her lightly, his lips making no demands from her. “Until tomorrow,” he said.

  “Until tomorrow,” she said tightly. She did not know if tomorrow would bring them joy for Nealie—or a crashing desolation. She only knew that if she was ever to have another child, she wanted it to be his.

  That was her fate, and she wondered if it was also her curse.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JOSH SPENT a restless night. Three times he had nightmares about Nealie’s sickness that woke him up, his heart pounding, the sheets sweaty and twisted around his body.

  The dreams haunted him at breakfast time, and Nealie seemed subdued, almost listless, as if she did not feel well. Briana smiled and tried to act naturally, but Josh sensed her anxiety.

  He was haunted when he went off with Harve to mend a broken ventilation fan in one of the greenhouses. He knew nothing of ventilation fans, and he supposed he seemed stupid to Harve. He did not give a damn.

  He did as he was told as mechanically as a robot, but his mind was on Nealie and Briana. And he thought very hard about the child who might soon be growing in Briana’s womb.

  “No, no,” Harve grumbled, “I said the colchis bolt. The colchis bolt.” He tapped it with his wrench, but Josh paid no attention. He heard Briana’s truck outside and swiftly climbed down his ladder.

  “Hey!” yelled Harve at him. “I need help here.”

  Josh ignored him. He met Briana in the doorway of the greenhouse. She hadn’t buttoned her jacket, and her cheeks were bright pink, but not with cold. He could tell by the light in her eyes that her news was good.

  He put his hands on her upper arms and stared at her questioningly.

  “Three,” she whispered, her lips twitching into an emotional smile.

  “Three?” he repeated, squeezing her arms as if to assure himself she was really there, really speaking those words.

  She nodded. “Three of the eggs seem to be developing normally. In two more days we’ll know if the chromosomes are healthy.”

  “Then we’ve got three chances,” he said. He tried to grin, but his mouth felt shaky. “Maybe we’ll end up with triplets.”

  “Nope,” she said. “One at a time.”

  He put his arm around her, drew her close. They had talked of implanting multiple embryos but decided against it. If there were several with healthy chromosomes, the extras would be frozen in case something went wrong with the first implantation.

  He rested his chin atop her head. The door was ajar, and a cold breeze stirred her hair, tickling him. He held her a long time, stroking her back, pressing his mouth against her ear, whispering secret things to her.

  Neither of them remembered Harve until he dropped a wrench. It hit the greenhouse’s cement floor with a clang. Startled, Briana sprang out of Josh’s embrace. Embarrassed, she looked at Harve. “I’m sorry, Harve. I had something personal to tell Josh. It was news that couldn’t wait.”

  “Mmph,” sa
id Harve, descending the ladder to retrieve the wrench.

  Briana reached into the pocket of her jacket. “And Penny asked me to give you this.” She held out an envelope to him.

  “Give it to Josh,” Harve said shortly. “I dropped the durn bolt, too. Gotta find it.” He turned his back to them and studied the floor.

  Briana raised her gaze to Josh’s. She handed him the envelope. “I should go. I have work to do. But I wanted you to know.”

  “Thanks, babe. You couldn’t have made me happier.”

  He watched her climb into the truck. She waved and headed up the road toward the house. Josh went back inside the greenhouse, closing the door behind him.

  “Sorry, Harve,” he said. “I didn’t mean to leave you deserted up there.”

  “Mmph,” said Harve again. He squatted, reached under a potting table and retrieved the lost bolt.

  “Here’s the thing from Penny.”

  Harve looked over his shoulder. Slowly he stood. He took the envelope from Josh and stuck it, unopened, in the pocket of his overalls. He started to climb to the ventilator’s exhaust.

  He stopped midway and looked at Josh. “It’s a lot of work, keeping up a farm. You got to put your whole self into it.”

  Josh thought, Yeah. It’s like loving a woman.

  “YOU’RE WHAT?” said Inga, her blue eyes full of disbelief.

  “I’m going to St. Louis,” Harve said. “I’m leaving tonight.”

  They stood in Leo’s kitchen, where Inga was making a tuna casserole. Leo was in the living room, watching television. Inga had been about to sprinkle the grated cheese, but her hand froze in midair.

  “St. Louis. But you can’t—”

  “I’m going tonight,” he said stubbornly. “I’m going to shop for a trailer house. See how soon I can get it set up on my property.”

  “A trailer house?” echoed Inga, setting down the cheese jar so hard that it rapped against the counter. “You mean a mobile home? What on earth—”

  “I don’t mind helping Leo,” Harve said, setting his jaw. “But I’m tired of living on his charity.”

  “It’s not charity,” Inga insisted. “I explained that. You’re more than earning your keep.”

  “I can’t help it, it’s how I feel,” Harve said. “And that’s that.”

  “But here you are, where you can see Briana every day—”

  “Briana doesn’t want to see me. I can’t keep forcing myself on her. It doesn’t feel right. And it’s not my style.”

  “There’s nothing wrong in going after what you want,” Inga said. “As for style, you have to use some if you’re going to woo a woman.”

  “It’s no good wooing a woman that doesn’t want your wooing,” Harve said. “It’s like trying to make a rock sit up and take notice of you.”

  Inga put her fist on her hip and frowned at him. “I saw her drive down to the greenhouse. Did something happen between her and you?”

  “No,” Harve said emphatically. “But something sure happened between her and him.”

  Her eyes slitted in suspicion. “Exactly what happened?”

  “I don’t know, but I could feel it. And she’s never going to see me for sour apples. I’d never make her happy.”

  “He’s the one who’ll never make her happy,” Inga countered. “You’ve told me so yourself. Now you’re just going to quit? You won’t even try?”

  “Hell,” Harve said with atypical fervor, “I’ve been trying for years. A man should know when he’s beat.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Inga said in displeasure. “And what’s this nonsense about a mobile home?”

  “It’s not nonsense,” Harve said. “I’m going to have to build a new house—and wait clear till spring to even start. I’m not going to sit around here like an old begging dog. I’m going back where I belong.”

  Inga crossed her arms. “Well, I’m staying here as long as Leo needs me. I said I would, and I happen to keep my promises.”

  “I told him I’d help while Larry was down, and I keep my promises, too. But I’ll sleep at my own place.”

  “In the meantime, you’ll go off to St. Louis and leave us high and dry.”

  “No, I won’t. I’ll be back when I can. But I want my own place. Because when it comes to Briana, I don’t have a snowball’s chance in hell. I’m done making a fool of myself.”

  “Fiddle-dee-dee,” Inga said. “You’ll change your mind. I told you, all things come to him who waits.”

  “And I told you. I’m going to St. Louis. I’ll be back when I can.”

  “Oh, really.” Inga huffed.

  Harve went to his truck. He had little to load for his journey, but he had enough. Neighbors had donated things—clothes, toiletries, even a second-hand suitcase.

  He was throwing the suitcase into the passenger seat when Penny’s car came up the hill and stopped in the drive beside him. Harve winced. He didn’t want to talk her.

  She rolled down the window. “Hi,” she said. Strands of fire-colored hair danced in the breeze. “Did you get my note?”

  He’d gotten it. He nodded curtly.

  “I mean it,” she said. “We never knew what to do with Daddy’s clothes when he passed away. He wasn’t as tall as you, but he was thin, and there might be a few things that would fit. You’re welcome to take your pick.”

  He tried so hard to keep his face impassive it felt stiff. He shook his head. “That’s mighty kind. But I got enough clothes to get me by. Franklin Hinks gave me half a closet full.”

  Penny gave him a hesitant smile. “That’s great. But you’re still invited for supper. I’d like you to meet my sister.”

  Harve didn’t want to act rude, but her invitation, meant to be kind, had hurt his feelings, make him feel even worse. “Does your sister know you’re asking me?”

  She grinned impishly. “No. She’s too shy. She’d never cooperate. But I’d like the two of you to get acquainted. I think you’d like each other.”

  Harve looked away. He’d seen Tammy Pfeiffer, and she was pretty enough, but she didn’t talk much, and she seemed timid as a mouse. Maybe Penny thought that if like attracted like, then dull would attract dull.

  “Thanks,” he said. “But I don’t want to get fixed up just now.”

  “It wouldn’t be getting fixed up,” Penny reasoned, tossing her curls. “You’d just get to know each other better.”

  “No, thanks,” said Harve. The very thought of having Tammy Pfeiffer thrust at him depressed him.

  “Another time, maybe,” Penny said. “Look, I just had an idea. We have other things of my dad’s. I know people have been giving you stuff, but maybe this is something you haven’t got. You like fishing, don’t you?”

  Harve looked at her in wary surprise. “How’d you know that?”

  “Your picture was in the paper when you caught that big bass last summer,” she said. “The story said you were an avid fisherman.”

  He was astonished that she would remember such a thing. He could only stare at her.

  She shrugged. “We never knew what to do with Dad’s fishing stuff. He’d want it to go to someone who’d appreciate it. He had some good rods and reels, a lot of lures. I’d be glad if you’d take it.”

  In spite of himself Harve was moved. “I might take you up on that.”

  “Great,” she said. “You take care, hear?” She shot him another grin and drove off in her rattletrap car.

  I’m going to have to fix that rear wheel, Harve thought, looking after her. Doesn’t she know it could be dangerous, driving around like that?

  He climbed in his truck and headed for St. Louis. He was about to become a free man again.

  “I’LL GET IT,” Briana said when the phone rang.

  She set down the platter of chicken she was about to grill. Josh was at the sink making a salad, and Nealie was on the couch with Zorro, watching The Secrets of Nihm.

  Briana picked up the receiver.

  “We’ve got an emergency,” said L
eo, his voice tense with concern.

  “Oh, no, Poppa. What now?”

  “Harve’s going to St. Louis to buy a mobile home. He wants to move back to his own place.”

  “What?” Briana demanded. “Why is that an emergency?”

  “Well,” Leo said, “you’ve been talking about sleeping at your own house again, but now you can’t. Harve won’t stay here, and Inga and I can’t be here all night without a chaperone.”

  “Poppa, I can’t move in permanently. All these trips to the doctor are wearing me out. I want to start sleeping in my own bed again.”

  “It can’t be done,” Leo said righteously. “I won’t compromise the reputation of a fine woman. She has nowhere else to go except a motel, and I can’t be all by myself. I don’t feel fully recovered.”

  “But the doctor said your attack was minor—”

  “Maybe you and Nealie should just move in here for a while,” Leo suggested. “If you ask me, she’s spending way too much time with Josh. Then he’ll up and leave, and she’ll be devastated. She’d be better off up here with you. And me. And Inga. Inga’s a very steadying influence.”

  “Poppa, this is our home. Now tell me why Harve’s gone to St. Louis.”

  “You should know that better than anybody,” Leo said, accusation in his tone. “When are you coming up tonight?”

  By the time Leo said goodbye, Briana was so frustrated, she had to resist slamming the receiver into the cradle.

  Josh crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. The slant of his mouth was cynical. “What have they come up with this time?”

  Briana explained, feeling more angry and trapped by the minute. No wonder Josh disliked her family. Her father was being impossible. Had he always been this manipulative? Had her marriage ever had a chance?

  She said, “And to top it all off, he says it’s my fault that Harve’s gone. Somehow I hurt his feelings. I suppose it’s because I came to the greenhouse. Ooh! It’s like I’m in a three-ring circus.”

  Josh came to her, put his hands on her waist and gazed at her, his eyes serious. “Settle down. You may be about to get pregnant. You don’t need to let him upset you. Are you going up there tonight?”