“That’s a shame.” He fiddled with his ring. “Anything we can do?”
“Not really. It’s just dying a natural death.” I spun around, slowly, on my stool. “You know, like these things do.”
He sat down next to me, looking like he was on the verge of saying something, but couldn’t quite force it out.
“Go on,” I said. “What’s on your mind?”
He took a deep breath, and let it out.
“I’ve been thinking,” he said. “About the whole…” he hesitated, chewed on his lip for a moment, and then began again. “Are you going to tell your parents?”
“Of course I’m going to tell my parents. Just, you know. Later on.” I cleared my throat. “Twelve weeks. Same as everybody else.”
His face told me he was assuming I’d put it off. And God damn it, he was right. I didn’t want to. I really, really didn’t want to.
“I just think our kid should have grandparents,” he said. “Even if they’re not perfect.”
“You know,” I said, looking at him. “My parents aren’t the only ones in the equation anymore.”
He stood up and walked away.
***
“You know, it’s not that I don’t like my father.”
I opened my eyes. In the pitch blackness of the bedroom - Daniel Thorne, prima donna extraordinaire, could simply not sleep with a nightlight on - I could hardly see him. But I was pretty sure he was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.
“Okay,” I said, making an effort to switch my half-asleep brain back on.
“Assuming for a moment that he is my father,” Daniel added. “Which by the way - for the record - I still think is highly, highly unlikely.”
“Yeah, I gathered that.” I rolled over to face him, as if it mattered.
“I know you’re just thinking, what’s the harm? Why not try to meet him? Why not just give it a whirl, for the hell of it? Either way, it’s going to be an incredible story to tell at parties.”
“Well,” I said. “That would be a nice side effect.”
“The thing is, Maddy, the thing is…” There was a moment’s hesitation. “He’s toxic. And he doesn’t mean to be. He never means to be. I’m not saying, god, I’m glad he’s dead. I’m glad he’s out of my life. But when I think about the possibility of interacting with him again…”
“I understand,” I said. “Believe me, I do.”
“He doesn’t lash out. He just slowly…slowly, slowly seeps into everything you have and ruins it with his opinions and insinuations and father-knows-best. He’s a leech. An energy vampire. Whatever you want to call those people who just suck the life out of you.”
I giggled. “Energy vampire?”
“It’s the middle of the night. Cut me some slack.”
“You’re the one who started talking,” I said, reasonably.
He sighed, into the darkness.
“This whole situation is insane,” he said. I could hear a wry smile in his voice. “You know, my life made a lot more sense before I met you.”
I shook my head. “Look, okay, I know it’s weird, but I have all the confidence in the world that you’ll figure out how to handle it. You always do. You’re much better with people than you think you are.”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “That’s why I got written up as ‘the notably anti-social Daniel Thorne.’” He was referring to a tabloid article from ages ago, which he clearly hadn’t forgotten.
“I’m pretty sure that’s a misquote,” I said.
“Well, the sentiment was the same. Regardless, this isn’t about whether or not I can put on a show of being a convincing human. This is about me and my father and that’s simply not something I thought I’d ever have to deal with again. So you’ll forgive me if I’m…”
“Reticent?”
“Or, yes. Any of the negative words you might use to describe my recent behavior.”
“I understand. I know I’ve said that a million times and it doesn’t have any meaning anymore, but I really truly do understand and I’m sorry that you’re dealing with this right now. I don’t like it either. But if you just ignore it, you know, that’s not going to make it any better. You’re just going to be forever wondering what if.”
“I won’t argue with that,” he said. “I just hope I don’t end up wondering what if I hadn’t.”
I didn’t have an answer to that.
***
As I slipped back into my clothes in the obstetrician’s office, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d spent an awful lot of time being poked and prodded at. The good news was, now that my pregnancy was confirmed, everything looked “just fine.” I wasn’t sure what that meant at this early stage in the game, but I certainly wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
After I’d pulled myself together, I went to meet the doctor in her office. Daniel was already sitting in one of the chairs facing the desk.
“So, as I was just telling your wife, everything looks great at this point,” Dr. Lambert was saying. “Based on what she’s told me, this is the due date I’m estimating,” she tapped something she’d written on one of the many pamphlets that was spread across her desk, “but bear in mind that is just an estimate. Once you get closer to that time, you’re going to want to let your body tell you when it’s ready.”
“Sure,” I said, vaguely remembering my mom saying something about being pregnant with me for ten months.
“I know it can be overwhelming to deal with a first pregnancy,” she said, “there’s a lot to think about, and you might not be able to think of all the questions that you need the answers to right now. We have a phone line that you can call at any time if you have a non-urgent question, and one of our nurses will get an answer for you. Or, if you call after hours, you can leave a message and someone will call you back as soon as they can. Barring that, I recommend that non-urgent questions can be researched on the internet - from a reputable source, such as the Mayo Clinic website.”
She hit the word a little hard, looking at me as if she suspected I might be the type of person to try and find emergency medical help on Yahoo Answers.
“Sure,” I said. “Absolutely.”
“Now, I’m just going to take a little bit of a family medical history. These are just good things to know. They don’t necessarily tell us anything about the health of the baby; we just like to have them in our records, just in case.”
Just in case what? I wanted to ask. But, of course, I didn’t.
She quizzed each of us in turn, writing notes on my chart as she did.
“Excellent,” she said, when it was finally all over. “Based on this, I’m not seeing any significant risk factors that need to be taken into consideration. So that’s good news.”
“My mother had a long gestation period,” I blurted out, suddenly. “Is that - will - does that have any effect on me?”
“Not necessarily,” said Dr. Lambert, with an understanding smile. “A lot of women find that their pregnancy experiences are the polar opposites of what other women in their family go through - and can even vary widely from one pregnancy to the next. The same woman might have a completely different pregnancy with each child.”
“Well, that’s comforting,” I muttered.
“Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water,” Daniel deadpanned.
Dr. Lambert chuckled. “But, oftentimes, there will be common elements that you can come to expect with each pregnancy. So you will learn something your first time around, if you decide to go back for seconds.”
“Excellent,” said Daniel. “You just don’t know which things are useful until they happen.”
“Essentially, yes,” said Dr. Lambert. “But a lot of women find it’s comforting to simply be able to say ‘oh, I’ve been through this before’ in a situation where they might otherwise be confused or worried.”
“I see,” said Daniel. He sounded mildly skeptical.
“Don’t worry too much about it,” I sa
id, patting his arm. “This is my cross to bear, let’s not forget.”
“But don’t be afraid to let him help you,” said Dr. Lambert. “It’s very important to understand your limitations. Your body’s going to be experiencing a lot of stresses, and a lot of changes. Physically and emotionally. It’s normal to feel overwhelmed and out-of-control at times. But at the same time, if something feels truly wrong, or greatly concerns you, it’s definitely worth making an appointment to come see me. Anything from morning sickness to mood swings - if it’s too intense for you to deal with, and it starts seriously interfering with your life, there are plenty of things that we can do to help you.”
“Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” the doctor went on. “Pregnancy is no walk in the park, no matter what modern conveniences we throw at it. But it can be much, much easier than it used to be. There’s no need for women to suffer in silence anymore, for the most part. We can alleviate a lot of the worst symptoms, if they come up. But at the same time, you need to understand that you’re carrying, feeding, and supporting another human being inside of your body. So a certain amount of disturbance is completely normal and natural.”
She glanced down at my chart again. “So, it doesn’t look like you’re on any prescription drugs except your birth control, which I imagine you stopped taking when you found out you were pregnant.”
I nodded.
“That’s good news,” she said. “You won’t need to transition off of any medication. You don’t smoke?”
“No, and I already packed up all my wine to give away.” Something occurred to me. “What about caffeine?”
“We generally say that a moderate amount is okay.” She flipped open a pamphlet and pointed to a string of numbers. “This is a guideline, but honestly, a lot of women end up forgoing it completely because it makes them feel safer. It’s important to be aware that caffeine is a drug, a stimulant - and it does cross the placenta to the baby. Studies show that reasonable amounts aren’t really harmful, but it’s doubtful that they’re helpful. I say if you can go without it, then go without it. But if you absolutely can’t, it’s not going to hurt you or the baby. A lot of women have trouble sleeping, especially as the pregnancy progresses and they get less comfortable. So if you need to get to work in the morning and a cup of coffee is the only thing that’s going to do the job, absolutely. But otherwise…”
“Got it,” said Daniel. “No caffeine.”
“That’s not what she said,” I grumbled, but he was right. I’d most likely go without.
When we finally left the office, with me clutching a folder full of pamphlets to my chest, I felt strangely…calm. I wasn’t sure why I kept expecting panic to set in, but I supposed there’d be plenty of time for that later.
I sat down in the armchair in the living room after we got home, looking down at the forgotten notepad where I’d begun writing Daniel’s biography.
“We really need to get back to work at some point,” I said, picking it up off the table and turning it over in my hands.
“At some point,” said Daniel, flopping down on the sofa. “What do you think about…Lila, for a girl?”
“Lila?” I repeated. “Wait. No, no, it is way too early to start talking about names.”
“Never too early,” he protested. “You’ve got to burn through all the bad ideas first. What about Mabel?”
“That would be great, if we were in Little House on the Prairie.” I smiled at the face he made. “Seriously, though, no. Let’s not talk about this right now.”
He was silent for a moment. “Catherine?” he said, finally.
I threw the pen at him.
“Hey,” he protested, dodging. “Do you know how much that cost?”
“No,” I said. “And for the love of God, don’t tell me.”
He was very quiet for a moment, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. I could tell he was getting lost in thought, as he was prone to do more than occasionally.
“This is really happening, isn’t it,” he said, finally, the tone of his voice indicating it wasn’t a question.
“It’s really happening.” I set the notebook down. “I even pinched myself to make sure.”
“I have to talk to my father, don’t I?” He said it so softly that I almost wondered if he was talking to himself rather than to me.
I swallowed. “Do you want to?”
He didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. I knew the answer, and had known it all along. It was written across his face.
No, but I’m going to anyway.
Seven
When I called Genevieve saying I wanted to meet, I didn’t tell her I was bringing company. When she looked up from her table at the coffee shop and saw Daniel, he looked surprised. “So she brought you around, huh?”
“I suppose so.” Daniel looked intensely uncomfortable. “Is there any way you can…arrange a meeting? If he is who we think he is, I don’t want our first conversation to be on the phone.”
“Sure,” said Gen. “Of course. I’ll contact him and let you know what he says. And I guess if he backs out, then we’ll know it was all some kind of hoax.”
“And if he tries to assassinate me, I’ll sue you into oblivion.” Daniel smiled beatifically, and Gen just laughed.
“No offense, but I don’t think you’re quite at the ‘assassination’ level,” she said. “I think you still just get ‘murdered.’”
“Well it’s all the same in the end, isn’t it?” said Daniel.
I felt an irrational pang of jealousy.
“Well, Genevieve,” I said, cutting into their banter, “thank you so much for your help. And thanks for bringing this to my attention. We really owe you one.”
“Well, that remains to be seen,” said Daniel.
“I’ll make sure you meet in a public place,” said Gen, sensibly. “And I’ll know where you are. Safety first.”
“Sure,” said Daniel. “That’s easy for you to say.”
I cleared my throat. “Okay, I think we’d better be going now. Daniel?”
“What?” he looked down at me. “I don’t think we’re in any particular rush.”
“I’d like to get dinner started,” I fibbed. I had absolutely no idea what I was making for dinner. In fact, I was pretty sure all we had around were a few potatoes that were starting to grow tentacles. I turned to Genevieve. “Again - thank you.”
“Anytime,” she replied. “Which is…on reflection, an absurd thing to say in this particular scenario.”
“I’ll forgive the lapse,” said Daniel, smiling.
By the time we got to the car, I thought I might actually be turning green.
“Dinner?” Daniel turned to me and queried, as I hit the driver partition button that would separate us from John. He looked like he might be on the verge of saying something else, before I clambered over his lap and covered his mouth with mine.
He made a small noise of surprise, but his hands clasped my waist and pulled me down closer, almost by instinct.
I was all over him - kissing my way down his jaw, his neck, while my fingers clumsily picked at his shirt buttons. I had undone them a thousand times, but suddenly, they seemed impossible.
He chuckled, his breath hot against my skin.
“Every time,” he said. “You know she’s no threat to you.”
I gave him a sharp look. “You’d better not be complaining.”
“I think you know very well that I’m not.” He shifted his hips, pressing himself against me to punctuate the point. I sighed, my lips parting and eyes closing of their own accord.
“We don’t have much time, you know,” he said quietly, his hands gripping my ass.
“I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” I said, grinning. I shifted slightly so that I could reach down and unzip his pants. He bit his lip as I reached in and grabbed him.
“I don’t know,” he exhaled, “if that was meant to be an insult or not. But
just for good measure, when we get home, you’re in for a spanking.”
“Oh, no,” I said, frowning as I lowered myself onto him. “Maybe I can make it up to you somehow.” I smiled as he slid all the way home, and I was nestled snugly on his lap, my thighs spread over him. “Change your mind.”
He made a soft growling noise that he knew drove me absolutely wild - and then, there was no more talking for quite a while. It was fast and hot, with me undulating on top of him while he whispered encouragements and slipped his fingers into my mouth. I swirled my tongue around them the way I knew he liked, a hot implicit promise of some future encounter, yet to be determined.
I tossed my hair as I rode him, smiling, reveling in the way he looked at me. Like there was absolutely no one else in the entire world. His fingers dug into my soft flesh and I let myself moan his name. Normally I would stifle myself - it felt like such artifice that it actually embarrassed me. And even if I forgot about doing it, he’d always tease me afterwards. But every once in a while, I would just let it slip.
Daniel. Daniel. Daniel.
It was what echoed in my head with every breath, every heartbeat, when we were together like this. I was beginning to grow lightheaded, like there wasn’t enough air to breathe in this little space, but all I wanted to breathe was him. My fingers clutched at his shoulders, leaving little wrinkled marks on the perfectly starched material.
Maybe it was strange, but I always wish I could muss his hair the way he did mine. But no matter what I did, his loose dark curls would just fall back exactly where they wanted to be. Me, on the other hand - all he had to do was run his fingers through my hair and it would never set in the same way again. Like he was leaving a semi-permanent mark on me, every time we touched. It certainly felt like it.
I tilted my head back, and I felt him run his fingers down my throat, like he was tracing it to remember the exact shape. The specific way it curved, whenever he was made me feel like this. Like I was going to explode at any moment. Like I was on the verge of dying the most glorious death imaginable.
We finished remarkably quietly, together, in such a well-synchronized series of jerky movements and short, panting breaths that I almost wanted to laugh afterwards.
I Married a Billionaire: The Prodigal Son (Contemporary Romance) Page 7
