HER BABY'S SECRET FATHER

by Lynne Marshall

  She moaned as her hand reached for the bedside drawer, pulling it open and blindly digging through it, quickly finding the small foil packages. Never once did she think about her new diaphragm. It would mean she’d have to leave him for a minute, and she couldn’t bear the thought.

  He snatched a packet like lightning, fidgeted with it until it ripped open, then rolled the condom in place. Pressing her legs wider, he lunged. Then, as though remembering she’d only given birth six weeks ago, he came to an abrupt stop.

  “I’m sorry.” He massaged her thigh. “I want you so much, I’m having trouble controlling myself.”

  She smiled at his consideration, but longed for the passion in his eyes and the feel of his strong body as close as only making love allowed. Jaynie bucked her hips in answer.

  “You’re killing me, Jaynie.”

  With obvious restraint, in a long, luxuriating move, he entered, pressing slowly and completely into her, then growled.

  She tensed with tenderness, but gradually yielded around his form. They met at a private, primitive place and held each other dangerously close to the edge. He moved deeper, in and out, then deeper still, finding a perfect spot to love. Time was suspended in sensual oblivion. Step by step, she let go, losing control until she was completely his. She captured him with her hips, loving him back, asking for more, driving him deeper. Driving herself crazy.

  Sweat beaded on his smooth muscled chest and she savored the salty taste, loving the hot, damp feel of him on top of her. Heat and juices mixed, making a heady scent, sending primal messages to her core.

  Hovering above her, he stared into her face. She was so gone with sensation, she could barely look back. When she did, she saw raw desire burning in his eyes. He was right there with her, teetering on the edge of bliss, as close as two people could ever be.

  He held her hips and tilted her just so, as if it could feel any more perfect—it did. She knotted her legs around his waist and went swimming through time and space, flying out of control on an exquisite adventure with Terrance. She rode the wave of pleasure, praying it would never end, until an apex of spasms slammed her through the other side of heaven. Jaynie gasped with intense shudders…and Terrance quickly followed.

  Breathless, he collapsed beside her, seeming sated and slack with exhaustion, staying tangled and twisted with her body. He kissed her forehead and whispered, “I love you.” He snuggled into her neck, and then he went still.

  I love you?

  Though limp, and consumed by their lovemaking, Jaynie shot up, ecstatic. “You do?”

  He pulled her back down to his embrace. Grinning, and offering gentle kisses all over her face, he said, “Oh, yeah.”

  Elated, she relaxed into his arms and sighed. “I love you, too.”

  The perfect moment stretched into several minutes of joy and peace. Completely together. In love. Totally and monumentally content.

  She drifted toward sleep.

  “Are you awake?” he asked.

  “Mmm…”

  “I have a question.” He rolled off, onto his side, and leaned on his elbow. “Who is Tara’s father, Jaynie?”

  She studied his face—perfection. A foreign tense feeling formed in her stomach. “A man who was never meant to be a part of my life, but who had everything to do with my future. No one you’d know.”

  “A one-night stand?”

  “A sperm bank donor.”

  Obviously grappling with her answer, he furrowed his brow. “How did you choose?”

  Folding her hands across her stomach, Jaynie stared at the ceiling. Thinking back, she remembered contemplating that the sperm donor’s thoroughly described physical characteristics reminded her of a certain hunky respiratory therapist, at the time.

  “Aside from the great vital statistics, you mean?” She grinned, trying to lighten up, but realized he was dead serious and switched tack. “If you want the truth, it came down to a picture of a boy and his sister, and a wonderful essay.” She eased into a smile, remembering the moment she’d made the decision that had changed her life forever. “That clinched it for me.”

  His hand covered hers. “You know that my sister’s name is Tara, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said, and an uneasy feeling developed in her chest. “Isn’t that an odd coincidence?”

  “I was born with polydactyly, too.”

  Desperate to turn his logic into joking, she said, “Oh, and you probably give regularly to the local sperm bank—right?”

  “Dave Martinez is my best friend. He’s the head of the cryobank.”

  Jaynie’s mind shot nervously to remember Dave with the shaved head. He’d helped her make the biggest decision of her life. “But it’s all confidential. He had no influence over my choice.”

  “And he never told me a word about you.”

  Desperate to not make it so, she said, “It’s just a coincidence…”

  Terrance cleared his throat and began to recite. “‘…if, in the end, I’ve done anything worthwhile with my life, nothing will compare to this…’”

  What was he trying to tell her? She couldn’t hear this— not now. “You’ve seen that on Tara’s wall, that’s all.”

  He sat up, reached for her hand. “I wrote it.”

  She pulled hers away. “It’s not you.”

  “I gave the cryobank a picture of me and my twin sister for the package. You must have that, too.”

  She rolled away from him. “No.”

  But he wouldn’t stop. He wouldn’t give up. He had to torture her by driving his point home. He swept the hair from her shoulder and kissed the curve of her back.

  She froze.

  “I donated to that sperm bank, Jaynie…”

  A vise strangled her chest. She turned to face him. “No!”

  He grabbed her arms and squeezed tight, forcing her to look at him. Fire glared in his eyes. “I’m Tara’s father. I’m sure of it.”

  “You can’t be.” She clenched her eyes closed and shook her head back and forth. “No!”

  Her gaze darted nervously around the room, adding things up in her mind.

  “Then that means you only came around because you thought you were her father.”

  “That’s not true!”

  “How else would you explain it, Terrance? We’d said goodbye before I got pregnant.”

  She’d been completely duped by him and his scheme to weasel into Tara’s life. The child she’d planned to keep only to herself had a flesh-and-blood father. Right before her. Never again would she be content to imagine a vial with “Donor #683” marked on it, and feel safe that Tara was all hers. He’d ruined everything.

  Two words formed in her throat.

  “Get out!”

  CHAPTER NINE

  “GET out!” she repeated.

  Terrance stood, looking dumbstruck.

  Jaynie shouted, “Leave!” Dead serious, she bundled his clothes and threw them at him. “Now!”

  “Listen to me, Jaynie…” He fumbled for his jeans.

  Like a child, she cupped her hands over her ears. “I know all I need to know. How could you?”

  He hopped on one leg, slipping the other into his pants. “I never meant to find out. Things just kept adding up.”

  Her gut twisted so tight, she wanted to throw up. She bit back the sting of tears, refusing to give him the satisfaction of crying. “What a fool I was. To think you were actually interested in me.” A wry laugh escaped her lips.

  His bare chest showed through the shirt without buttons. “I love you. Damn it! I wasn’t lying.”

  He tried to grasp her arms. Confused and furious, she shrugged away.

  Tara woke up crying.

  Screaming.

  Jaynie pushed past Terrance. “Get out,” she reiterated, and stormed through the bedroom door.

  He followed her. The baby’s shrieks grew louder. Jaynie turned on him. “Leave us alone.” She flung her hand toward the nursery and the wailing within. “Don’t you see what y
ou’re doing to us?”

  She saw a horrified look cross his face, and then resignation.

  “This isn’t over,” he said, retreating back.

  “Oh, yes, it is!” She practically ripped the nursery door off its hinges and rushed to Tara’s crib. Forcing herself to calm down for the baby’s sake, Jaynie took a deep breath—and heard the front door slam.

  Only then did she let her tears flow.

  Now, for the first time since she’d started nursing, she had trouble letting down her milk. Her body trembled with anger.

  “How could he?” she muttered to Tara.

  What kind of twisted sense of obligation did he have, to have wooed and conquered her just because he’d figured out he was the sperm donor for her baby?

  “You’re my baby. My baby.” She gritted her teeth and wondered where her milk had disappeared. “He has no legal hold on you.”

  Tara’s eyes watched her earnestly.

  Jaynie had studied the cryobank contract, and several other law books she’d checked out on the subject. She knew he had no legal recourse.

  Tara fidgeted, seeming as agitated as Jaynie felt. Things had changed from wonderful to a nightmare, all in a matter of seconds. Working to calm herself and Tara down, Jaynie forced herself to relax. She repositioned Tara in her arms and finally felt her milk let down.

  With a soft, desperate whisper, she searched her daughter’s eyes and asked, “Why did I have to go and fall in love with him?”

  *

  Terrance couldn’t believe what had just happened. He’d told her he loved her and she’d kicked him out. He’d consented and left—only because he’d needed time to regroup.

  How had everything backfired so horribly? They had connected, he and Jaynie; they rode the same wavelength in so many ways. She was a great woman, a fantastic mother, and, oh, my God, a lover beyond all others.

  Astounding.

  Talk about connecting. They’d been so totally in the moment with each other back there it had scared him at first. But only for a moment. Once he’d gotten over the shock of being exactly where he’d wanted to be with her, he’d recognized the look in her eyes. They knew each other; they were meant to be together.

  And his plans never to be a dad again? Shot to hell.

  Now bile reared in his stomach and acid in his throat. He loved Jaynie, and thought she loved him, too, but she’d just kicked him out of her house and her bed as if he was the world’s biggest louse. He had to get things straightened out.

  Pushing the pedal to the metal on his hybrid car, he almost hit sixty on the 5 Freeway heading for Silver Lake.

  Now what?

  Aside from Jaynie, there was only one other person Terrance wanted to talk to.

  *

  “Wow. What happened to you?” His sister, Tara, answered the door in jeans and a sweatshirt, her hair in a thick red braid.

  “I just had my heart ripped out and stomped on. That’s what.” Terrance entered the familiar home of his twin.

  A mischievous smile crossed her lips. “Ah…finally the tables have turned.”

  “I’m serious. I’m in love.”

  He plopped down onto her rattan settee and scrubbed his hands across his face. “I need a beer.”

  Normally, he’d have expected Tara to tell him to get it himself. But she must have seen the desperation on his face, and she left the room, heading for the kitchen without a single snide remark.

  Tara returned, looking curious, with a can for him and a bottle of water for herself. Sitting across from him, yoga-style on a roomy chair, she settled in.

  “Haven’t I been telling you for years that when it comes to women, persistence pays off?”

  He nodded, feeling a little queasy and defeated.

  Her sympathetic hazel-green eyes waited expectantly. “Why don’t you tell me all about it?”

  He took a swig of beer, cleared his throat and began…

  *

  The phone rang again. Jaynie ignored it—again. How many times could a person call without giving up? For two days straight the phone had rung every hour between five and nine p.m. She knew it was Terrance because those were the hours after he got off work. And even now he was considerate of her need for rest by stopping the phone calls at nine.

  If he’d worked last weekend, she knew he’d have this weekend off. Jaynie prayed he had some big plans to keep him away from her—like studying for term finals or a camping trip with Dave.

  Every day that passed she felt herself grow weaker. She simply couldn’t face the fact that she loved him with all of her heart. It wasn’t part of her plan.

  And he’d deceived her. It wasn’t really her he was interested in. How could she ever forgive him?

  Jaynie picked up the phone to call Kim for some distraction. On the fifth ring, when Kim picked up, she realized she’d interrupted something.

  “Hello?” Kim answered, breathless.

  “Hey, it’s me.”

  Jaynie heard sheets and blankets rustling, and muffled sounds in the background.

  Kim giggled. “Stop that,” she said, just before putting her hand over the receiver. A moment passed. “I’m sorry, Jaynie, you caught me at a bad time.”

  “I’ll call back later.”

  “No! I want to talk to you, really.”

  “Call me when you’re, uh…er…done.” Jaynie smiled for her friend, remembering her own afternoon tryst with Terrance, not so long ago, and hung up.

  “I know!” Jaynie made a silly face at Tara, who was dangling in the snuggly sling on her chest, as if the baby understood everything she said. “I’ll call Mrs. Bouchet. Remember her? Your future nanny?” She crossed her eyes and cooed at her daughter, who gurgled and squirmed.

  “I’ll ask her to come over and walk through your routine again.” She strode toward the phone with added purpose. “And then I’ll feed you some lunch, okay?”

  Jaynie dreaded going back to work and leaving her baby in someone else’s care. The only other person she trusted more than herself to care for Tara was Terrance.

  In a perfect world.

  But, being a single mother, Jaynie knew she had to make a living. She’d stocked up on freezing her breast milk for the past two weeks. Mrs. Bouchet, aside from being an ex-nurse, was both a mother and a grandmother. Tara would be in good hands. All would be well, she chanted.

  Jaynie had been scheduled for Sunday as her first day back to work, with Monday off. One day wouldn’t be so bad. But, starting next Tuesday, Jaynie would be back to the old grind of a forty-hour work week.

  Hang tough for the reward, kiddo.

  Her mother’s face came to mind. A no-nonsense, stern lady, who’d softened with time. Having given up on men years ago, Elizabeth Winchester had let her hair go steel-gray and had put more than a few extra pounds on her average frame. But she seemed happy now, and for the first time in her life seemed settled in, no longer expectant. She drew her pleasure from good books, quilting and card games with friends she’d made in her middle-management position at a phone company. “This will do,” she’d often said to her daughter during their phone conversations. “I don’t have any complaints.”

  Was that all Jaynie had to look forward to? Quilts and card games?

  Jaynie knew Tara would be the light of her grandmother’s life when she arrived in another week. And the distraction of having a full-time visitor, while working, would help keep her mind off of Terrance.

  She walked to the nursery, with Tara tethered to her chest in the sling, to fold some laundry. A strange clanking sound came from her backyard. It sounded like someone was hammering.

  “What the…?” Jaynie crossed to the window and pulled back the curtain. She gasped.

  There worked Terrance, pounding metal pegs into the ground to stabilize a fully erected tent!

  Swishing the curtain closed, she strode to the back door and into her tiny yard.

  “Are you crazy?” She strangled the words to keep from yelling.

  Terr
ance swaggered toward her. “Only about you, sweet-cakes.” He made a quick right turn and yanked on a rope. The front tent flaps opened, showing Jaynie a small, but efficient area, complete with a bed, sleeping bag, clothes and even a chair.

  He’d moved in? Or outside? In a tent? As irritated as she insisted she was feeling, a tiny twinge of amusement skittered through her brain. She covered for it with an indignant pose, one hand cradling Tara, the other planted on her hip.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  He ambled toward her and took a peek inside the sling. “Hi, Peanut,” he said. “I’ve missed you.”

  Jaynie swatted his hand away. “Answer my question.”

  “It seems a certain headstrong, yet beautiful woman doesn’t know what’s best for her.” He stared Jaynie down until her knees went wobbly. “And, since I’ve finally figured out what’s best for me, I’ll be living here until said woman gets the point.”

  Her heart jumped to her throat. How could she remain strong with the temptation of Terrance in her very own backyard?

  “There is no point to get. You lied to me, took advantage, just so you could be in Tara’s life.” She clamped her arms around the baby and took several steps back. “You’re just a sperm donor. That doesn’t make you her real father.”

  He stared her down. “You and I both know I’m more than that.”

  Rushing into the house, she slammed the door closed. Tara flinched. Jaynie felt horrible, and quickly soothed her with a pat. Only then did she finish her thoughts. I wish things could be different.

  She toughened up, looked through the laundry room window, and said, “If you’re not out of here in the next hour, I’m calling the police!”

  Tara squealed. Terrance folded his arms, looking resolute. She turned and marched into the kitchen.

  Now what do I do?

  *

  In Jaynie’s backyard, over a small portable hibachi, Terrance barbecued vegetables and a boneless chicken breast. Three hours had passed since he’d set up the tent. He knew she wouldn’t call the police. Beneath the rage that filled her eyes, he still saw that look—the look of love.

  Taking his sister’s advice to heart, he’d come up with this wacky plan. “When it comes to women,” she’d said, “persistence pays off.”