by Anne Fraser
He wanted his baby to have his name, wanted Liz to have his name when their baby was born.
But she wasn’t ready for a proposal. She needed to know he was sincere first. He understood that and would spend however long it took to prove himself to her.
“We left the hospital before they served lunch, so I’ll fix something.”
“Don’t bother. I’m not hungry.”
“No bother. You can eat whenever you’re ready.”
Not only had he bought groceries, but he’d gone by the mom and pop diner he and Liz loved and brought back take-out, along with extra dessert.
When he set the plate of food in front of Liz, she glanced at it, then up at him, a torrent of emotions crossing her face. “Banana pudding?”
“And chicken noodle soup.” He gestured to the bowl with the stack of crackers to the side. “I know you’ve still not been keeping a lot in your stomach.”
She seemed lost for words. Perhaps a good thing since everything she’d said to him so far today had been hostile.
“Have you had much morning sickness?”
She groaned. “I really don’t want to have this conversation, Adam.”
He shouldn’t have pressed, but he wanted her to open up to him so badly. “What do you want, Liz?”
“I’ve already told you.” She pinned him beneath her golden gaze. “I want you to leave.”
Kelly shook her head as she helped Liz settle onto the love seat in the barren living room of her house. Her foot was propped up on pillows and a wheeled walker sat next to the sofa.
Kelly had come by at the end of her shift and helped Liz to the bathroom, helped her sponge bathe.
Just being clean and in her own clothes made Liz feel more human, more like her old self.
“Where’s Adam?”
“He left while you were in the bathroom. Said he had to run a few errands,” Kelly said.
“Good. I’ve been telling him to leave all day. Glad he finally took a hint.”
Kelly winced. “Are you sure about this, Liz? Maybe you should give him a chance. It can’t have been easy these past few weeks between Gramps’s death, being diagnosed with MS, the problems with the board and May’s surgery. Adam’s been through a lot.”
“And I haven’t?” Liz asked. “Whose side are you on, anyway?”
Kelly checked the positioning of Liz’s leg, rearranged the pillows until she liked the angle and then gave Liz the remote control to the small television set. “Yours, of course, but that doesn’t mean I can’t see things from Adam’s point of view.”
“I thought you wanted to kick him.”
“I do, but everyone makes mistakes.”
“He wants me to have an abortion, Kelly. That’s a bit more than just making a mistake, don’t you think?”
“Have you talked to him about that? About why he feels that way?”
She already knew the reason. At least, the one he’d given. “He worries the baby will also have MS.”
“A realistic concern.”
“So what if our baby did? I’d love him or her anyway. Why can’t he?”
“Liz, the baby is real to you. You’ve heard the heartbeat, felt the changes within your body. You caught Adam by surprise. Did you really expect his gut reaction to be joy when he feels so uncertain about his future already? At any point, did Adam actually say he couldn’t love your baby?”
“I think from the moment he said it wasn’t too late for an abortion, asking about whether or not he could love this baby was a moot point.”
“Liz, he loves you.”
She shook her head, ignoring the memory of Adam telling her just that this morning. “He’s just saying that because he feels responsible and thought that would win my forgiveness.”
“Have you ever thought that maybe you should forgive him?”
“This isn’t a matter of forgiveness, Kelly. I don’t trust Adam. How can any couple have a relationship when there’s no trust?”
“If you say so.” Kelly sighed. “Just make sure you aren’t being stubborn because of pride or because you’re afraid of getting hurt again. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes Adam’s made.”
“Which are?”
“Not having enough faith in your feelings for each other.”
“My point exactly.” Liz sighed, hoping her broken heart didn’t show. “We don’t trust each other.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE next morning Liz flicked through the television channels. Nothing was on, of course. She’d already discovered that while in the hospital and there she’d had a lot more channel options than her basic home package.
Kelly had stayed the night, along with an unwanted house guest who’d refused to leave despite Liz asking him to. But Kelly was on duty today and had gone to work a couple of hours ago, first making sure Liz was settled on the sofa and had everything within easy reach. Walker. Remote. Bottled water. A package of peanut butter and crackers. Her cellphone.
Even a couple of magazines.
Adam had left with Kelly, asking her to drop him off at his place to pick up some items.
She’d flipped through the magazines, nibbled on crackers, did another run through of the various television programs, but nothing caught her interest.
Liz was bored. At least at the hospital she’d had people coming in and out of her room. Had noises and pages and such to distract her from the quiet.
Here it was silent except for the sound of a neighbor doing early morning yard work. Must be her next door neighbor because the noise from the mower sounded really close. Mrs James must have hired someone to come do her lawn.
Perhaps she could get his name and number because her own yard was knee-high in grass. Not to mention that her grandfather’s rosebushes were in desperate need of some TLC. Her grandfather would roll over in his grave if he saw the dead blossoms needing to be pruned, saw the weeds sprouting, saw the aphids that no doubt nibbled on tender new buds.
When she next heard the sound of a mower, the buzz sounded so close that she didn’t believe it was next door.
Someone was doing her yard.
Preparing herself for the pain that standing caused, she positioned her walker so she could use it to help her get to her feet. Without putting pressure on her bad ankle, she managed to get up. Slowly, she made her way to her front door.
Along with the shiny new SUV, the truck Adam had borrowed to deliver Gramps’s belongings to the nursing home was parked in her driveway. The tailgate was down and a mower sat next to the truck.
Adam had stopped and was stooped over, pulling the weeds that had sprung up in the rose garden.
How dared he?
If she could have managed to get down the steps, she would have gone to give him a piece of her mind. She didn’t want him doing her yard work.
Or pulling weeds out of her rose garden.
Kelly’s warning flashed through her mind.
No, she was not being stubborn. Was not just reacting out of fear or hurt. She’d given her heart to Adam on a silver platter and he’d trampled it. There was no going back for them. They’d had their shot and blown it.
Emotion spurred her on and, keeping her weight balanced on her good foot and one head gripping her walker, Liz pushed the front door open. “Get out of my grandfather’s roses.”
Adam pulled more grass from the mulched ground, before glancing at her. “You shouldn’t be up.”
“Dr Bell told me to get up and move around as much as I felt like, just so long as I kept my weight off my bad leg.” She swung her cast around in a little spin.
Adam brushed the dirt from his fingers and straightened from his crouched position.
She angled her walker out the door, supported herself with her arms, and took a step onto the porch.
Adam practically leapt beside her. “You’re going to fall. If you want to come outside, let me help you.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Quit being so stubborn, Liz.”<
br />
“Why does everyone keep accusing me of being stubborn?” she asked in exasperation.
“You’re kidding, right?” he asked with a sheepish grin.
Liz didn’t take the bait. He couldn’t charm her with that devastating grin. “Fine. Help me. After being in the hospital so long, I want some fresh air. Help me to the swing?”
Without another word, Adam swooped her into his arms and carried her to the wooden swing. Paint peeled from the edges of each slat, revealing the multiple coats of paint that had been applied over the years.
“I didn’t mean this kind of help,” she protested, wondering why he still hadn’t put her down in the swing. She didn’t like being in his arms. Didn’t want to be in his arms. Much.
But he did smell wonderfully male, felt wonderfully male.
“Then you should be more specific, Liz,” he warned. “Because I’m going to take you into my arms every chance I get.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“You are absolutely the most confusing man I’ve ever met,” she complained.
“Which is why you love me so much.”
Adam knew he’d pushed his luck by the sour look that came over Liz’s face. Actually, she’d already had a fairly sour expression, but she wrinkled her nose and glared.
But she didn’t deny his claim. Which gave him hope.
He sat down in the swing, keeping Liz in his lap with her feet on the opposite side of the swing.
“Put me down.”
“Can’t.”
“Why not?”
He gestured to the opposite side of the swing. “There wouldn’t be any place for me to sit.”
Liz followed his gaze to her feet and wiggled her bare toes. “You know I’m not going to be helpless for ever, right? That I’m going to be walking on my own again soon and you aren’t going to be able to boss me around like this?”
“I know. That’s why I figure I’d better make the most of it while you’re at my mercy.” He hugged her to him, breathed in her familiar scent. “I love you, Liz.”
She pushed against his chest. “Stop saying that.”
“Never. I’m going to tell you every day for the rest of our lives.”
She rolled her eyes. “Why?”
“Because it’s true.”
“How can you say that when you’ve spent the past month pushing me away when I needed you so much? When you don’t want me pregnant with your baby?”
“Because I was a fool and thought I could do this on my own, Liz. And the truth is I can do it on my own, but I don’t want to. Part of me still believes that’s selfish as hell because you shouldn’t be tied to a man who doesn’t know what his future holds.”
“None of us know what our future holds,” she pointed out, but without the bitterness he’d grown accustomed to hearing over the past twenty-four hours.
“Your accident made me realize that. Each and every day of life is a blessing that should be lived to its fullest.”
Adam used his feet to keep them gently moving back and forth. They swung in silence for a long time, Liz eventually relaxing against him.
Although the sun hadn’t reached its peak in the sky, he’d worked up a sweat mowing her yard. Fortunately her yard wasn’t that large and although his T-shirt clung to him he didn’t think he was too gross.
Apparently not as Liz laid her head on his shoulder.
“Tell me about your MS.”
His heart sang at her request. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
So he told her everything. From the first time he’d noticed his blurry vision, to the tingles in his fingers, to how terrified he’d been when he’d gone blind in his right eye. How he’d thought if he loved her he would end their relationship and let her have a life without being tied to an ill man. How he had struggled with actually letting her go.
“The night you came here that you made love to me, what happened that day, Adam?”
“Dr Winters confirmed my diagnosis.” He traced his fingers over her arms, wondering how it could feel so right to dump all this on Liz, to tell her everything in his heart. “Up to that point I’d held out hope that I didn’t really have MS and all this would go away.”
She twisted her neck to look at him. “You’d been drinking. I could smell it on you and knew something was wrong.”
“A little. I needed liquid courage for what I had to do. Thought I had to do.”
Her eyes glowed like golden honey. “You came to tell me we were finished?”
“That’s what I told myself, because I couldn’t face the truth. That I needed you to hold me so I’d know the world hadn’t gone completely crazy.” Pushing his luck, Adam slid his hand to hers and laced their fingers. “I needed you that night, Liz. I always need you. I know I betrayed your trust, but if you’ll forgive me, I’ll spend every breath I take re-earning it, proving to you that what we have is real.”
She stiffened, but didn’t pull away, didn’t say anything, and they sat in the swing until the sun was high in the sky and beat down on them.
“I’m ready to go in now.” Her purposely aloof voice told him everything. She wasn’t ready to forgive him.
He nodded, stood up with her in his arms and carried her into the house. “The sofa or your bedroom?”
Her quick glance at him let Adam know exactly where her mind was. And where it wasn’t.
“The sofa.”
Adam laid her on the sofa, waited for her to say something, anything, but when she didn’t he went outside to get her walker. When he returned, Liz’s eyes were shut, but she wasn’t asleep, just ignoring him.
While holding her, he’d been hopeful, had thought she might find it in her heart to forgive him. It was too soon. He’d hurt her too badly. But he’d never give up, never let her doubt his feelings for her again. For the rest of his life he’d make sure Liz knew she was what mattered most to him.
He put the walker within her reach, bent and kissed the top of her head. “I love you, Liz, and hope someday you’ll trust me enough with your heart, our baby, that you can forgive me.”
Through the window, Liz watched Adam work. No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t regain her anger.
She wanted to, she realized. Because as long as she stayed angry, that provided a protective shield around her heart. A protective shield she desperately needed.
Listening to Adam talk about his MS, feeling the emotions in every word he said, she understood how he’d felt. Not that she agreed with his reasoning, she didn’t. But she understood that he’d wanted to protect her from what he’d seen as his bleak future.
She couldn’t deny that her heart belonged to him and she believed he hadn’t meant to hurt her.
Understanding didn’t bring trust or erase the pain she’d felt. Neither did it change his reaction to learning of her pregnancy.
So where did that leave them?
Adam laughed at the word Liz made up on the Scrabble board. He wasn’t sure “Podunk” was a real word or just Southern slang for a tiny, offbeat town. But he let her count it all the same. Seeing her smile was worth getting his butt kicked in a board game.
Two weeks had passed since the morning he’d cut her lawn. Two weeks where Liz no longer attacked him with every word. Two weeks where he did his best to show her how he felt about her. Two weeks where he continued his injections, was getting rest, and with each day that passed he felt a little stronger, a little more in control of his life.
Which could all be attributed to Liz’s tentative acceptance of his presence in her house, in her life.
Kelly still came by every day, Mona most days, too, but when Liz needed something that she couldn’t manage on her own, she’d ask for his help.
She was getting stronger with each day as well. At her last appointment with Dr Bell he’d told her to get rid of the walker and start using crutches. Before long she’d be recovered and back at work.
Back
at work.
That morning Dr Winters released Adam to return to work whenever he felt ready, saying that unless Adam had a worsening of symptoms, he could return to a lighter schedule.
Liz had gone with him to the specialist’s office. He’d been surprised but pleased when she’d asked to go.
Actually, he’d decided she’d had her own agenda in going with him. She’d asked about their baby, wanting to know all the statistics, research, and anything she could do to decrease the risk.
He’d sat on the exam table, feeling inadequate, ashamed that he’d done this to her, to their baby.
“Hello.” Liz snapped her fingers in front of his face. “It’s your go.”
“What’s your rush?” he teased, wanting to hang onto the peace between them. “You think if you give me too much time I’ll figure out a way to win?”
“Right.” She laughed. “You’ve caught me now.”
Adam studied the Scrabble board and chose his letters, his word, wondering if fate had caused him to look at his game pieces and see only one possible word to be made from his squares.
He arranged the pieces on the board.
Liz stared first at the word, then at Adam.
The moment stretched awkwardly between them before a tear trickled down her face. “Adam?”
His gaze connected with hers and he hoped she saw everything she was to him. His whole world.
She glanced down at the board, her gaze soaking in the word he’d spelled. “Baby”.
“There’s something I have to tell you.” She leaned forward, her eyes soft, her expression yearning. “I’m pregnant.”
Confused, Adam didn’t breathe, didn’t move. What was she doing? He already knew she was pregnant.
She’d told him in his office during the worst phase of his life. And he’d blown it. Blown it so badly Liz couldn’t forgive him.
Then it hit him.
She was starting over, giving him a second chance to get things right.
His heart swelled with love for her, at this gift she was giving him. “You’re pregnant?”
“I know we weren’t planning to start a family, and I didn’t mean to get pregnant, but I am, and I love this baby very much. Not just because it’s mine.” She placed her hand over his. “But because it’s yours.”
