by Rita Herron
She sliced the chocolate cake, her stomach twisting again as it did so often these days, her hand trembling as she fought the nausea. She'd opted for no medicine, concerned that it might affect the baby, but if her queasy stomach didn't settle soon, she'd be forced to contact Hannah. She couldn't continue existing on crackers. It couldn't be good for her—or the baby.
Mimi took her place behind the table to serve while everyone lined up for refreshments. Her stomach roiled again, her nerves teaming up with her condition, making things worse. She fought off the feeling, grateful when the last person accepted a plate.
"I know it's hard on Wilfred to be without his father," one of the mothers said. "But what can I do? He ran off three months ago and I don't have a clue where he is."
"My boyfriend skipped out the minute I told him I was pregnant," another young woman commented. "The big chicken didn't want the responsibility."
Mimi stood on the periphery of the group, tempted to join in. To ask them about single parenting. Yet she couldn't, not with Seth watching.
"I'm glad my old man's not around," a tall lady wearing a hot-pink suit said. "He drinks so much he'd be a bad influence on my kids."
But Seth would be a good influence. He'd make a great father, especially if he loosened up a bit.
"My wife is the worst mother," a slender man who looked to be in his thirties complained. "She's too busy with her job for the kids. That's the reason I divorced her."
"Do they live with her?"
"We're in the middle of a custody battle now."
Mimi lapsed into thought as she set out the coffee condiments. She would have to make a decision about her career—would she be able to pursue acting now or should she get a real job, something steadier than managing the café? Her own mother had callously deserted her and her sisters to pursue her own dreams. Could Mimi do the same?
No. But if she didn't pursue acting, what else could she do? Go back to school?
Memories of her childhood floated back. When their mother left, Wiley had picked up the pieces and raised them by himself. Their dad had been the world to them. Could she deny her own baby its father?
But your baby won't be like you—it'll have a mother, she argued silently.
Even if you land the part on that soap, if your acting career takes off what will you do with an infant while you travel?
Seth's voice jarred her from her troubled thoughts. "Listen, folks, why don't we all sit down."
Everyone obeyed, hushed murmurs filtering around the room. Seth began the session with a discussion of common problems single parents faced. "Several of you have said that you feel alone. I thought it would be good for you to meet and offer support to one another. I suggest you use this time to form friendships, maybe you can even trade advice, what's working and not working, discuss day-care issues."
The session seemed to be successful, enthusiasm growing as the individuals shared. Mimi watched with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. Her respect for Seth's professionalism grew, her earlier skepticism about him being a shrink dissipating as she realized the importance of his work. Her respect for her father also rose, while her own insecurities over parenting escalated. Would she sit in a group like this someday, asking strangers for parenting advice because of her single-parent status?
The mere thought sent a sick feeling climbing up her throat. Several people had discarded their dirty plates in the trash, and the smells of chocolate frosting, strawberries and pineapple punch only added to the nausea. It hit her fast and unrelentlessly. She covered her mouth and raced from the room, praying she'd make it to the ladies' room in time. She only hoped Seth hadn't seen her.
* * *
Seth ended the session and said goodbye to his patients as quickly as humanly possible, but Mrs. Flat and her husband, Ralph, had lingered. He'd realized the two of them had some issues, along with an underlying affection for each other, so he'd spent an extra few minutes setting up a couples' session with them. They just might salvage their marriage yet, if both of them could simply let go of their stubborn pride. He'd certainly forgotten his own pride tonight and had found himself constantly looking at Mimi.
Now he was worried about her. He'd seen her beautiful smile fade and her rosy cheeks grow pale, no green, and his own stomach had convulsed. She'd disappeared over half an hour before. He was damned tired of waiting for her.
He stalked to the ladies' room, listened at the door, heard silence and knocked gently. No reply.
She had to be in there. She still had her catering supplies to collect. He knocked again and thought he heard a faint voice, so he pushed the door open. "Mimi?"
"Seth?"
"Yeah. Are you all right?"
"Go away."
Her weak voice sent alarm shooting up his spine. He slowly eased himself in the sitting area, not wanting to intrude on her privacy, yet desperate to know she was okay. "Mimi, where are you?"
A sniffle sounded from the washroom connected to the vanity area. "I said go away."
"I'm not leaving until you come out."
"I can't come out right now," she said in a miserable voice.
"Why not?"
"I… Just go away. I'll be out in a few minutes."
"No."
"Seth, please leave."
Obviously she meant the statement as a warning, but her voice sounded weak, as if she needed help. He slowly moved through the opening that served as a doorway from the sitting room to the washroom section and spotted Mimi's black heels peeking from the last stall. She was sitting on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her. Alarm bells clanged in his head again, and he pushed open the door.
"Seth, please…"
She had one arm draped over the toilet seat, her head drooping pathetically, her face a ghostly white. His heart clutched and he capitulated into motion. Seconds later, he returned with a cool wet cloth and pressed it to her neck, then gently wiped her face and forehead.
"Seth, please just go…"
"Shh." He pressed the cloth to her forehead. She murmured thanks in a weak voice.
"Food poisoning again, huh?"
Her whole body stiffened. With a pitiful sigh, she dropped her head over her arms again as if to avoid answering him. Worry and fear and … a little trickle of something that felt like excitement, seeped into him. He knew the answer. Somehow he'd known all along.
"Are you going to be sick again? Should I call a doctor?"
She shook her head. "You're sure?"
She nodded.
"All right. Then I'm going to lift you and take you to the sofa in the sitting area."
She sniffled again and he realized she was crying, so he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her against his chest. She turned her head into him, draping one limp arm around his neck and whispering something that sounded like a protest. The misery in her face tore at him. He took charge, determined to care for her no matter how much she protested.
He gently lay her on the velvety cushions and propped her head on a pillow. Her hair had escaped the pins she'd used to secure it and curled around her face, making her look young and vulnerable. He wanted to hold her and promise her everything would be all right. But the memory of her conversation with her father still haunted him.
"Do you want me to get Hannah?"
She shook her head and looked at him. Her eyes were big, luminous, filled with tears and worry and regret. "I'm s-sorry."
He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. "For what?"
"For—" she gestured toward her prone state "—for this."
His throat grew thick. "You don't have to apologize for being sick." For God's sake, she'd gotten sick because she was carrying his baby.
She bit down on her lip and stared at the ceiling tiles as if she might see an answer written there. He rubbed her chin with his thumb and turned her face to his, forcing her to look at him. "When were you going to tell me?"
Her mouth tightened.
"Were you ever?"
"I…"
"Don't lie to me again, Mimi."
His voice sounded harsher than he'd intended, and he started to apologize when she spoke up. "Hannah thinks the … baby is Joey's."
The air whooshed from his lungs. "She what?"
"I did a test and it was negative, but then I got sick, and Hannah insisted on doing the test, and I couldn't think of a way out of it, and she told me the test was positive, and she assumed—"
"That the baby, our baby, belongs to Joey?"
She nodded.
"And you didn't correct her?"
Her eyes turned grave. "No, I didn't think … you'd want her to know."
"You mean you didn't want her to know you'd been with me." Hurt, however irrational, welled in his chest.
She shook her head, her chin quivering. A lone tear spilled down her cheek. "I didn't want it to be true."
Her words cut right through him. She didn't want to have his baby. Of course she wouldn't—she didn't even think he was all that attractive. Why would she want to be tied to him or have his child? Probably afraid she'd have some boring, stodgy little boy who resembled him…
He stood and turned away from her, his spine stiff, afraid if she saw his face, she'd read the emotion in his eyes, emotion he'd never felt before and certainly didn't know how to deal with now.
Mimi saw Seth turn away and knew he was hiding his feelings. He was angry with her for not telling him the truth. Was he angry she'd gotten pregnant? Angry he'd be tied to her because of a child he didn't want?
"Seth, I know you didn't want kids. And I … I don't expect anything from you."
He whirled around. "You don't expect anything?"
"No. I mean, I'd never try to trap you—"
"You're having my child. Whether you like it or not, Mimi, that baby connects us."
She heard the bitterness in his voice, and a fresh ache seized her. "But it doesn't have to. You don't have to be involved."
"You think I'd shirk my responsibilities, that I'm the kind of man who'd run out on his child like husbands and boyfriends of the women who were here tonight."
No, she didn't. Seth would assume responsibility—he was that kind of man. But she wanted more out of a relationship. Not that he was offering one; he might simply be referring to child support. "I know you're responsible, Seth. I just don't want you thinking I trapped you. That's what happened to my parents, and look how it turned out."
"What are you talking about?"
"My mom and dad. They only got married because Mom was pregnant with Hannah." Good grief, she realized in horror. Seth had never mentioned marriage. She certainly didn't want him to think she wanted it. Besides, Hannah had been with Seth first—another reminder of the reason they shouldn't be in this situation.
His eyes darkened. "Hannah never told me. But you're right, we should get married."
"No, I wasn't suggesting marriage!" She struggled to sit up, but Seth gently eased her back down.
"Listen, Mimi, we're two decent people here. We're both fairly responsible and care about the future of this child. It's the right thing to do."
"It would never work."
"We can make it work."
"No, we can't."
How can you be so sure?"
"I overheard Mom and Dad arguing the day Mom left. She said she only married Dad because of the pregnancy. They were too different and they ended up hating each other."
Seth fisted his hands by his sides. "So you think we'll end up hating each other?"
"I don't know. Yes. No. Probably." Mimi took a deep breath. Fortunately the worst of the nausea had subsided. She felt weak, but better. "I don't want you feeling some misguided sense of responsibility. I can take care of myself."
His gaze slid over her. "Yeah, you're doing a great job."
Mimi hissed. "I'll be fine."
"What about the baby?"
She pushed herself to a sitting position, grateful the room had finally stopped spinning. "I'll take care of him, too."
His eyebrow arched. "It's a boy?"
"I don't know. That was just a figure of speech." Had his voice actually sounded wistful? "It's too early to tell."
He nodded and she stood, brushing away his hands when he tried to help her. "I … I should go clean up."
"I'll clean up the damn dishes. You are going to rest."
She struggled for a calming breath. "Seth, I'm okay now. I intend to do my job."
"I said I'll clean up. You can sit in the chair and watch." He folded his arms across his chest, towering over her, looking impossibly masculine and tough, especially for a boring shrink. Only, she had trouble seeing the boring part now. He was hot and rough-looking, emotion adding color to his cheeks, his square jaw set firmly, his eyes flashing anger and turmoil. And God help her she wanted him again. Just once more, wild and hot, right here on the sofa in the ladies' room.
She must be sick again—no, she was a sicko. A pathetic pregnant hormonal sicko.
"I don't like orders, Seth."
A muscle ticked above his eyebrow. "And I don't like the fact that Hannah thinks my baby belongs to some criminal."
Mimi's heart capitulated briefly at his possessive tone—he almost sounded as if he wanted the baby. But she must be fooling herself. He'd made himself clear the night they'd talked; he simply felt responsible now. She'd injured his male pride. And if he cared so much about what Hannah thought, he must still have feelings for her…
* * *
Chapter 10
« ^ »
Seth contemplated what to do while he cleaned up. Unfortunately no earth-shattering revelations hit him. He insisted on following Mimi back to her house, his mind still grasping for answers as he parked behind her on the drive. Here he was, with a 130 IQ, a doctorate in psychology, a man who counseled people with all kinds of disorders and situations, ranging from complex schizophrenia to single parenthood, but he had no idea how to handle his own problem.
Not that the baby was a problem. He would never think of his own child as anything but a little miracle. But this strained relationship with Mimi was another story. Part of him wanted to throw her down and make love to her again until she admitted how perfectly they complemented each other, which unfortunately he still didn't know if he believed, while part of him wanted to hold her gently and promise her everything would be all right.
But how could it be when she didn't want him around? When she was so upset over the pregnancy and so against Hannah knowing and so not attracted to him?
* * *
He followed Mimi up the steps, juggling the box of leftover paper products and the coffeepot.
"Thanks, Seth, but you didn't have to follow me home."
"I didn't mind." He considered asking Mimi if he could come in and talk when he heard another car drive up.
Mimi groaned and threw a frustrated look over her shoulder. "It's Hannah and Alison."
"You want me to get rid of them?"
"Of course not." Mimi unlocked the door and pushed inside while her sisters climbed from Hannah's Volvo. "But I know they've come to check on me like little mother hens."
"They care about you," Seth said, shifting the box so he could set it down as he followed her inside. "And so do I."
"Seth, don't."
"Don't what?"
Mimi's eyes trapped him with a pleading look. "Don't say things like that. I know you feel responsible, but—"
"But—"
"Hey, Mimi." Hannah poked her head through the opened door, confusion registering on her face when she spotted Seth in the foyer. "I thought that was your car."
"Come on in," Mimi said in a cheery voice. "Seth was just leaving."
Seth stiffened. She obviously wanted to get rid of him.
Wrangler ran up and barked at him, and Mimi knelt to calm the pug while Alison bustled in. An odd sparkle lit her eyes when she saw him, and he wondered if she knew about his night with Mimi. "Hi, Seth."
"He helped me bring things back from th
e support group," Mimi quickly explained.
"What kind of support group?" Alison asked.
"It's for single parents," Mimi said.
Hannah arched a brow while a sly grin tugged at Alison's face.
"I catered it for him," Mimi said, apparently not wanting them to know that Seth knew about the baby.
Hannah grinned at him. "Sounds like a great program, Seth. I hope it's successful."
"If tonight's any indication, I think it will be," Seth said.
Alison held up a grocery bag. "We brought ice cream. Mint chocolate chip."
Mimi smiled weakly. "Great. Go get three spoons."
Seth frowned, said good-night and left. It didn't take a genius to realize she didn't want to discuss her pregnancy in front of him. Hurt once more suffused him. She'd rather her sisters believe Joey had fathered her baby.
A few minutes later, Mimi curled on the couch in her terry-cloth robe, eating ice cream from the carton with her sisters just as they'd done when they were little girls.
"I'm starting the renovations for the bridal shop," Alison said.
"Cool." Mimi dug into the carton. "We need some more businesses downtown."
"Let me know if I can help, sis," Hannah said.
Alison took the carton from Mimi and picked a chocolate chip from it, popping it into her mouth. "Thanks, but I have things under control for now."
"So how are you feeling, Mimi?" Hannah asked.
Mimi licked her spoon and confided about her earlier bout of nausea.
"That does it. I'm writing you a prescription."
"I won't take anything that might hurt the baby."
Hannah smiled and patted her back. "This is safe, sis, trust me. We give it to a lot of pregnant women."
"I still can't believe I'm pregnant," Mimi said, her spoon in midair. "I … feel like such a mess-up."
Hannah and Alison traded sympathetic looks. "You used birth control?" Hannah asked.
Mimi nodded. "Well, I … we forgot once."
"That's all it takes," Hannah said dryly.
"Uh-oh. I heard this lecture when I was twelve," Alison said. "Mother Hannah."
The girls laughed in unison. "I guess I was bossy," Hannah admitted.
