A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1

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A Baby for the Officer: Boys of Rockford #1 Page 9

by Henley Maverick


  “It’s easy to get married on a piece of paper, Mr. Baker. I expect you, and your wife have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” she commented, snidely. “A quickie wedding at a courthouse, really?”

  I placed my hands under the table and clenched them into fists. She was trying to get to me, but I wouldn’t let her.

  “We wanted to save money. Lots of people do it,” I said, blandly. “And of course, we couldn’t wait to get back home to Emily.”

  “Yes, and I suppose darling Emily had nothing to do with your decision, did she?”

  “Lyla loves Emily as if she were her own daughter,” I said, a tone of defensiveness creeping into my tone. I coughed to clear my throat. “Everybody knows that.”

  “Yes, and everybody also knows that she was your nanny,” she uttered with disgust. She said the word nanny as if it was some kind of disease that you might catch, and that by being in close proximity to me, she might get it too.

  It was making my blood boil.

  “I don’t care what her profession was. She is my wife, and she will be afforded the respect she deserves.”

  “Wife?” Abigail sneered. “Please. Your little shotgun wedding might’ve fooled everyone in this honky-tonk town, but you can’t pull the wool over my eyes. I know why you got married the way you did.”

  “Do enlighten me, Mrs. Windsor, you seem to have all sorts of ideas about my marriage,” I responded with an imperturbable smile.

  “You and Lyla got married so that we wouldn’t be able to use your marital status against you in court. I’ll admit it’s a setback, and it’s clever, but it won’t stop us in the long run.”

  I tasted bile in the back of my throat, but I swallowed it down as I gave Abigail an innocent look. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mrs. Windsor. That isn’t what happened at all.”

  “Then why did you counter sue us yesterday?” she demanded. “Do you really think you’re doing the right thing for Emily? You claim to love her, yet you’ll go to outrageous lengths to keep her including committing deceit. Do you really want her to grow up around that?”

  She had me there, but I wasn’t about to admit it.

  Emily would understand when she was old enough. At least, I hoped she would.

  Abigail could sense that I was faltering. “Mr. Baker, for the last time, you do not want to make an enemy out of me. This could all be over today. Let’s end this, and I’ll offer your nanny twice what you owe her. I’ll even write her a glowing letter of recommendation.”

  “Get out,” I said, my voice dangerously low.

  Abigail reeled as if she’d been slapped. “Excuse me?”

  “I said, get out.” I stood up, my chair scraping backwards. “You are sitting here insulting my wife and acting like you know who she is, but you don’t. She is an amazing person, and we are very much in love. I’m sorry you don’t remember what that’s like.”

  “How dare you?” Her eyes blazed in righteous fury as she stood up abruptly and stared me down. “You know nothing about me.”

  “And you know nothing about me,” I retorted. “Nor your granddaughter, the one you claim to care so much for.”

  “I do care about her,” she insisted, her voice rising an octave as her hands fell limply to her side. I could see that we were starting to attract an audience, so I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and faced Abigail Windsor.

  I straightened my back and shoved my hands in my pocket.

  “You want to do this the hard way? Fine.” She picked up her purse and slammed the door behind her with unnecessary force.

  I picked up the phone and dialed. “Ginny, make sure that Mrs. Windsor isn’t allowed to set foot in my station again.”

  15

  Lyla

  Do you know how people say time flies when you’re having fun?

  Well, it didn’t just fly.

  It soared.

  It glided.

  I realized I sounded like one of those hopeless romantics, but being around Clay had opened up whole new world for me. I had no idea what it was like to be part of a family and be happy.

  To have someone who not only cared about your well-being, but looked after you in all the ways that counted. It didn’t hurt that we had amazing sex to boot.

  In the back of my mind, I knew that it was temporary. I had to keep reminding myself of that because I could already feel myself slipping. Thinking about things that were too far in the future.

  Our relationship had an expiration date, and for the first time since our agreement, I regretted it. I thought that maybe I wanted more with Clay.

  I wasn’t sure where this feeling was coming from. Sure, I was happier than I could ever remember being, but that could’ve been due to any number of things. What if I was just mixing up affection and hormones with love?

  I knew that I cared about Clay, deeply, but did I love him? Could I envision a future with him?

  If I were being honest, sometimes I could. We’d put Emily down for the night, and we’d be sitting on the couch, watching tv, he’d put his arm around me, I’d lay my head on his chest, and for that brief moment in time, we were a normal couple.

  There was no impending trial, or the threat of Emily being taken away. There was no pretending.

  There was just Lyla and Clay. Clay and Lyla.

  A happily married woman with a child who wasn’t mine, but whom I loved as if she were. What more could I want out of life?

  I wondered if Clay felt the same.

  Often, it felt like he did.

  Like he forgot for a moment that we were a sham. But inevitably something would happen that would bring our bubble to a grinding halt. A visit from the lawyer, or a social worker, or just Clay staring hard at Emily, as if he were trying to memorize her features before she was taken away.

  The lawyer seemed to think we had a good chance, and I hoped he was right. I wanted nothing more than to help Clay with this, to help him be happy.

  I sniffed as I wiped away a stray tear and stared in confusion. Why was I crying? There was no reason to cry, I was happy.

  I shrugged it off, put away the last of the dishes and went to check on Emily. She was laying on her back with her hands spread out on either side, an angelic look on her face as her chest rose and fell evenly.

  In a while, her eyes would flutter open, and she would make a soft whimpering noise to indicate that she was awake, and as soon as she saw me, her beautiful chubby cheeks would split into a wide grin.

  I felt a surge of maternal affection towards Emily, unlike anything I’d ever felt, and I frowned as I wondered where it came from. I knew that I loved Emily, but I wasn’t delusional.

  Once the divorce was finalized, I would be expected to move out and go somewhere far away. Ex-wives didn’t stick around in their ex-husband’s houses. Not even fake ones.

  I walked towards Emily with a heavy heart as I realized how much I was going to miss her. She stirred in her sleep, and a soft whimper escaped her lips. Slowly, I picked her up and began to sing her a lullaby under my breath.

  She stirred at first, agitated and restless with her arms flailing about till finally she calmed down and placed her head on my shoulder. She seemed to be listening intently as I bounced her up and down, but then she drifted off once more.

  My lips twisted into a thin line as I suddenly got a dreadful inkling in the pit of my stomach. Something was wrong.

  Something was missing.

  I rushed to my room and began to flip through the calendar. With each page that flipped, my heart began to race even faster until it plummeted to my feet, and I was left staring at the calendar in dismay.

  No, it couldn’t be.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  I had miscalculated.

  That had to be it.

  There was no possible way.

  I took out my phone, opened the calculator and began to do the math, but no matter how many times I redid it, the answer was always the same.

  I wa
s late.

  My period was supposed to be here a week, almost 2 weeks ago. My hands began to shake as I sat down on the bed and tried to calm my erratic heartbeat.

  Okay, Lyla, calm down.

  This didn’t necessarily mean that I was pregnant.

  There were a number of reasons for a period being late, like stress or losing weight.

  My palms began to feel sweaty as I wiped them on the edge of my sweatpants and tried to keep my mind from racing over all of the possibilities.

  The only way to calm myself down was if I went and got a pregnancy test.

  I’d do that as soon as Clay was home.

  That was a nice tangible plan.

  A few minutes later, I heard the key click in the lock, and I stood up, mechanically making my way to the living room. Clay was whistling to himself as he hung up his coat and slipped off his shoes.

  He picked them up and gave a start of surprise when he saw me. “Oh, hey, I didn’t see you there.”

  “How was your day?” I asked automatically, the words feeling like sandpaper in my throat.

  “It was good. Same old, I guess.” He shrugged as he picked up his shoes and headed towards his bedroom. He stopped to give me a quick kiss on the cheek. “How was yours?”

  “Okay,” I intoned, trying to keep the panic out of my voice.

  Clay’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “Are you okay?”

  “I need to go run an errand. Can you keep an eye on Emily for me?” I blurted out before I could change my mind.

  I could feel him staring at my face, but I couldn’t look at him.

  I just couldn’t bear the disappointment.

  It was one thing to agree to a fake marriage to keep a family together, but having our own child? Neither of us signed up for this.

  “Yeah, I don’t mind, but are you sure you’re alright?” he repeated as his eyes searched my face, willing me to look at him.

  It took everything I had to keep my eyes fixed on a blank spot on the wall. They began to well up with tears, and my throat clogged with emotion, so I coughed to clear it up.

  I blinked rapidly. “Yeah, yeah. I think I might be coming down with something.”

  “I can go get you whatever you need if you want to lie down,” he offered kindly, as he brushed his fingers against my arm in a gesture that was meant to be soothing.

  “No, I need to go get…..er…..lady stuff, and it’s specific, so yeah,” I said, weakly as I dragged my gaze away.

  Clay shuffled from one foot to the other as he scratched the back of his neck. “Well, okay, but do you want to---”

  “No, thanks. Gotta go. Bye!” I yelled as I hurried outside before he asked me anything else and I broke down completely.

  I got into my car, driving on automatic to the nearest drugstore. When I got there, I stared up at the big sign and gulped as I grabbed my purse and made my way inside. I couldn’t decide which test to buy because I had no idea which one was the most accurate, so I just grabbed one of each and headed towards the cashier with arms that felt like lead.

  The woman behind the stand raised an eyebrow, but said nothing as she gave me a knowing look.

  She was probably thinking that this was my first pregnancy, and that I didn’t want to be if the panicked look on my face was any indication. I tried to smooth my face into what I hoped was a neutral expression by giving her a cheerful, but forced smile.

  “That’ll be forty dollars,” the woman announced as she looked at me sympathetically.

  I counted out the bills and handed them to her. “Thanks.”

  “No problem, honey. Good luck,” she called out as I hurried out of the store, eager to get to the test results. When I slipped into the car, I threw my purse and the bag onto the passenger seat and stared at it as if it were a snake.

  Shit.

  I thought we were careful.

  I knew that there was always a chance the condom broke, but wouldn’t we have felt it? There had to be a way to be able to tell for sure.

  What would I do if I was pregnant?

  I’d never considered the possibility of an abortion. Mostly because I imagined myself as being happily married, but this was an entirely different set of circumstances.

  My mind reeled as I pulled up outside Clay’s house and took a deep breath. My legs propelled me forward of their own accord.

  “That was fast,” Clay commented from his place in the kitchen. He was chopping something up, looking domestic and cute in his sweatpants, oversized shirt and bare feet.

  “Yeah, there was no line,” I responded.

  “Dinner is almost ready,” he said as he gave me a sweet smile.

  “I think I’ll eat later,” I said distractedly, as I shifted to hide the bag behind my back. Luckily for me, Clay didn’t seem to notice, as he was focused on making dinner.

  “Are you sure?” he asked over his shoulder, giving me a concerned look.

  “Yeah, I’m sure. Is Emily okay?” I inquired as I dragged my feet along the floor, impatient to get to my bathroom and get this over with.

  “She’s still sleeping,” he commented. “She sleeps like a bear in hibernation.”

  “Yeah, I guess,” I offered as I shifted and made my way towards my room. “I’ll be right back.”

  I couldn’t make my feet move fast enough as I practically raced towards my room and shut the door. My heart raced as I picked up the first test and stepped into the bathroom.

  I shut the door behind me, peed on the stick and sat on the edge of the tub, impatiently waiting for the results to show.

  The waiting was definitely the hardest part.

  No matter the context, sitting there wringing my hands, not knowing was far worse than having concrete facts.

  After this, I wouldn’t be able to act like I didn’t know.

  It would be out there.

  Knuckles rapped on the door and waited.

  I didn’t answer as I stared at the stick, counting down in my head.

  Knuckles rapped again, a bit more incessantly this time.

  “Is everything alright in there?” Clay’s voice floated inside, tinged with worry.

  “Just a stomach-ache. I’ll be out in a minute,” I called out, forcing myself to keep my voice light and airy.

  I heard him shuffle away, and I closed my eyes as I picked up the test. When I opened them again, I fell to the ground as I stared at the pink strip.

  It was positive.

  I was pregnant.

  I felt a bit woozy, so I stayed on the floor, leaning my head against the cool tile as I worried about Emily and Clay.

  I didn’t want this to affect the trial.

  16

  Clay

  I wasn’t an expert when it came to women, not by any stretch of the imagination, but there was one thing I was certain of.

  Lyla was acting odd.

  At first, I thought she was having an off week. People tend to have those, especially women, what with all those hormones running rampant.

  I brushed it off as a time-of-the-month thing, not that I knew much about how that worked, nor did I care to know.

  However, it was clear that something was bothering her.

  I caught her staring into space on more than one occasion, she’d been crying at the strangest of things, and then at other times, she’d just snap at the drop of a feather.

  * * *

  Afterwards, she was always horrified, and she’d rush out of the room before I could even begin to comfort her.

  Women are such strange beings.

  They accuse us of sending mixed signals, but Lyla hadn’t even let me touch her in weeks. Whenever I just casually draped my arm across her shoulder, she would shift so that it fell off.

  If I moved in to kiss her, she would claim that she was tired. I tried not to let it hurt my feelings, but it’s hard when you’re being turned down repeatedly without a clear reason.

  Whatever was bothering her, I wished she would just tell me so we could clear the ai
r. I knew that the situation between us wasn’t ideal, but we’d managed to stay friendly beforehand, so there was no reason we couldn’t do that now.

  Even if the dynamics were different.

  Being married didn’t mean we had to do everything differently.

  Maybe that was what was bothering her.

  That things weren’t really changing.

  I knew it wasn’t a real marriage, and perhaps I needed to act like it to get her to stop moping.

  I wanted Lyla to be happy, more than I wanted to maintain the illusion that this was just a business deal, and that I wasn’t falling for her.

  Because there was no point in pretending otherwise.

  I was whipped.

  Utterly and completely, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  I sat on the couch with my feet propped on the table, aimlessly flipping through the TV as my mind went over the possibilities.

  What if the reason Lyla wasn’t happy was because she was tired of pretending? After all, she’d proposed marriage as a short-term solution, not a long term one.

  It was entirely possible that she was getting tired of waiting to be free of me.

  Lyla was young, attractive, smart and kind.

  Why would she want to be stuck with an old sod like me? And one with a baby, no less. Sure, she loved Emily, and I knew Emily loved her, but at her age, surely it wasn’t enough.

  Nobody expects the baby before the marriage.

  There’s supposed to be the honeymoon stage first, and I hadn’t done nearly enough of the romancing and treating her the way she deserved to be treated.

  Not that I knew how, but still, I needed to try.

  Every woman deserves a man who tries.

  I settled on a Hallmark movie, and I leaned back against the couch, allowing my body to wind down after a long day.

  I supposed the long hours at work didn’t help. We were swamped lately, and I had no idea why, so I wasn’t making it home before 9 pm, and sometimes later than that.

  I understood that it meant that Lyla was home alone with Emily a lot, and it must’ve gotten boring and lonely, but I hadn’t the first idea of how to even begin to fix that.

 

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