Why would he write you a note after the way you left on Sunday night?
When there was a knock at her front door, she opened it to find Barbara, her red Mustang parked at the curb.
“I went to the gallery, but Loretta said you weren’t coming in today. I took a chance you’d be here.”
As Tori motioned the teenager inside, she assured her, “You can always reach me on my cell phone. You have the number, right?”
“Yes, I have it.” Barbara’s gaze landed on the pile of baby clothes stacked on the armchair. Quickly, she looked away to the small kiva fireplace, then back at Tori. “I found a natural childbirth class. It’s at the Yoga Center next Wednesday night. Are you free?”
“There’s nothing on my calendar. But, Barbara, are you sure you want me to be your coach? Maybe your mom would like to help you.”
“My mom couldn’t care less how I have this baby,” Barbara responded morosely. “I’ve told you that before.”
“I’m sure she cares about you, though.” Tori couldn’t imagine having a child in Barbara’s situation and not wanting to be with her throughout the ordeal.
Lowering herself onto the sofa, Barbara rested her head against the back cushion and closed her eyes. “My mom has selective vision and hearing. She sees what she wants to see, and she hears what she wants to hear. Nothing else makes an impact.”
Opening her eyes again, she sat up straighter. “It’s just like this morning. She wanted me to run a whole bunch of errands with her—grocery shopping, picking up dry cleaning, stopping at the jewelry store to pick out something for my aunt’s birthday. I told her when I got up that I was tired and didn’t feel good. I just wanted to lie low.”
“You aren’t feeling well?” Tori studied Barbara more closely.
“It wasn’t anything to call the doctor about. I felt a bit sick to my stomach, my back hurt and my feet were a little swollen.” She peered down at her sandals. “I feel better now. But all Mom could think about this morning was what she wanted to do.”
“Maybe she just wants to be with you, and errands were one way of accomplishing that.”
After a pause, Barbara admitted, “Maybe. Almost two more weeks of this. And that’s if the baby’s on time. I read those books Nina gave me. I could go two weeks past my due date.” With a sigh, she pushed herself to the edge of the sofa. “I’d better go. I just wanted to talk to you…because I knew you would understand.”
Although Tori had always offered Barbara a listening ear, she didn’t fully understand. But she was glad the teenager could talk to her. “I’m concerned about you and your baby. You can always reach me.”
Barbara’s eyes misted a bit, then she pushed herself to her feet. “Mom’s going to the opera tonight. Maybe I can help her pick out what she should wear.”
“That sounds like fun,” Tori said sincerely, remembering the times her own mother had a holiday party at work and she’d helped her decide what outfit looked best.
After Tori walked Barbara outside and waited until she drove away, she felt vaguely unsettled by the visit. Maybe it was the talk about mothers and daughters. Maybe it was Barbara’s mother’s lack of support for her daughter. Maybe she was worried about Barbara not feeling well this morning. Or maybe she just couldn’t keep a tight lid on the fear that not all would go smoothly with the labor, delivery and the adoption itself.
She was still holding Jake’s bill in her hand.
I might as well write a check now and take care of it. But as she took her checkbook from one of the kitchen drawers where she kept her bills, she felt an overwhelming urge to see Jake. It was ridiculous.
Or maybe it wasn’t. He was a good listener. Besides that, no one from the Santa Fe Police Department had given her any more information about the break-in at the jewelry store. Maybe Jake would know more about that. And if he didn’t, maybe he could find out for her.
She checked the return address on the envelope. She was familiar with the area and the apartment complex. She would finish the laundry, give the house a quick dusting and make herself something to eat. Meanwhile, she’d think about delivering the check to Jake in person.
Wavering between her desire to see Jake and the foolhardiness of doing so, Tori didn’t actually slide into her car until almost seven-thirty. With the check and her cell phone in her purse, she headed for the Sunset Apartment complex, just off St. Francis Drive. Twenty minutes later she turned into the driveway that led to the parking lot.
The cream-colored stucco buildings were about five years old and well kept. The rock and shrub gardens were relatively low maintenance. Pink concrete paths led to three separate buildings and were lined with garden lanterns that glowed in the dusk. Jake lived in building three.
As Tori started down the walkway, she prepared herself for the possibility that he wouldn’t be home. If he wasn’t, she’d simply drop the check in the mail and that would be that.
At the building’s entrance, she went through a gate that led into a small courtyard. Taking the outside stairway to the second floor, she spotted Jake’s truck on the other side of the building. Her heart raced a little faster, and it had nothing to do with climbing the steps.
At Jake’s apartment, she quickly pushed the bell. After a few seconds he opened the door, dressed in a black-and-white tank top, black running shorts and athletic shoes. In running gear he seemed even more masculine than usual—more tanned, more imposing, more everything.
“Tori!” he said in surprise. “I was just on my way out for a run.”
“Do you run every night?”
“Three or four times a week. It keeps me in shape the way nothing else can.”
“I brought your check, but I…” She hesitated. “I wanted to apologize for the way I left the other night.”
Backing up, he motioned her inside, apparently deciding this wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have in the hall.
While he shut the door, she glanced around the apartment and was surprised by its sparseness. There was a sofa and coffee table, a small TV and a bench press with weights. She didn’t see a picture anywhere…or personal mementoes that he’d collected over the years.
“I don’t spend much time here,” he said when he noticed her looking around. “So I didn’t see any need to clutter it up.”
“It’s definitely not cluttered.” She smiled as she spoke.
“If I move to Colorado, I don’t want to worry about having to drag everything along.”
“Colorado?”
He gestured her to the sofa but didn’t sit himself. “I might invest in a ski lodge. I have a friend who bought a place in Crested Butte.”
The news that he had someplace specific to consider was a shock. “I see. Do you ski?”
“Cross-country.”
“Colorado would be a change.”
He nodded. “A change in scenery, a change in lifestyle. I haven’t decided for sure yet, but it’s an option.”
“It’s always good to have options,” she agreed, not knowing what else to say.
The quiet stillness of night settling in stole through the living room.
“Jake,” she began, determined to make peace with him, “I shouldn’t have said what I did on Sunday.”
His expression remained emotionless. “Why not? It was honest, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, but it was an overreaction to our kiss.”
“It doesn’t matter, Tori.”
It did matter. A lot. After the accident, when she learned she couldn’t have children, she’d felt less of a woman. Dave had made her feel as if she were no longer complete. Even after she’d recuperated, he no longer reached for her at night. He no longer put his hand on her arm in a gesture of affection. He no longer wanted her. Jake’s hungry kisses had made her feel whole again. For some reason she wanted to explain that to him.
“It does matter, Jake. When Dave and I were married—”
The cell phone in her purse sounded. She glanced at it, thought about letting the voice
mail take the call, but then remembered Barbara’s words earlier—I was tired and didn’t feel good. “I need to take that,” she said to Jake.
Giving an understanding nod, he said, “I’ll get us a couple of sodas,” and went to the kitchen to give her privacy.
Tori slipped the phone out of her purse. “Hello.”
“Tori, it’s Barbara.” The teenager sounded near tears.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m in the house all alone, and my water broke. I think I’m having contractions, and I don’t know what to do.”
“How far apart are the contractions?” Tori asked, trying to remain calm. The baby would be eleven days early.
“Seven minutes. Dr. Glessner told me at five minutes I should call her. But I’m scared, Tori. What should I do?”
Jake had returned to the room and Tori held her hand over the phone. “Barbara’s water broke. She’s having contractions seven minutes apart.”
“First baby. Seven minutes. Could go on for a while.”
Tori’s voice shook a little as she said to Barbara, “I can call an ambulance for you. Or I can pick you up and take you to the hospital. I think we’ll have time. What do you want to do?”
Barbara took only a moment to think about it. “Can you come get me? I don’t want to make a scene with an ambulance and all.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you have a bag packed?”
“Not yet.”
“If you can, throw a few things together—a nightgown, toothbrush. But if you don’t feel well enough to do it, I’ll do it for you when I get there. Do you want me to try to contact your mom? Page her?”
“Absolutely not. I’ll write her a note. If she wants to come to the hospital, she can. But I don’t think she will. She wants no part of what’s happening.”
“Hold tight. I’ll be there as fast as I can.”
As she disconnected, she noticed her hands were shaking.
Jake must have noticed, too. He set the sodas on the coffee table. “Are you okay to drive?”
“I have to be.” She started toward the door.
“Tori, if those contractions get closer together, are you going to be able to handle her?”
“If I can’t, I’ll call the paramedics.”
Catching her arm, he asked, “Do you want some help?”
Ever since she’d met him, she’d known Jake was the noble, chivalrous type. He always put his own wishes aside for someone else. “You don’t want to get more involved. I’ll—”
“If anything happened to Barbara or to you because I didn’t help, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
She didn’t understand the pain she saw in Jake’s eyes. But she knew he was telling her the truth, so she was honest with him. “I’d like to have you along. You’re more experienced at this than I am. But I think we should take my car, instead of your truck. That way Barbara can stretch out in the back.”
With a nod he agreed. “I’ll get my wallet and meet you downstairs.”
Tori had never been to Barbara’s house before. It was in one of the newer developments off Cerrillos Road. Even though darkness had fallen, the address was easy to read under the glow of the porch light. The house was an elegant, two-story adobe with steps along the side leading to a rooftop patio.
After Tori rapped the knocker on the solid wood door, she waited almost a minute, glanced at Jake, then tried the knob. The door opened.
The entranceway led into a large foyer where steps wound to the upstairs hallway.
“Tori? I’m up here.” Barbara’s voice was hoarse and scared as she called down to the first floor.
Tori rushed up the steps and Jake followed.
Once upstairs he said, “I’ll wait out here. Call me if you need me.”
Rushing into the room, Tori found Barbara lying atop the pink eyelet spread on a canopied bed. Panic swept through her, but she forced herself to remain calm as she approached the white bed that had a matching dresser, chest and bookshelf desk. On one wall hung a collector’s case of Madame Alexander dolls. The laptop computer on the desk made it obvious to Tori that this girl had everything—except the support of her mother.
“They’re coming every three minutes,” Barbara wailed. “I haven’t had a chance to put a suitcase together or get dressed. My suitcase is in the hall closet—”
She gasped and bit her lip. Tori knew another contraction was on its way.
“Jake Galeno drove me here in case I needed help with you.”
“I don’t want anyone to see me like this.” A cry escaped Barbara’s lips as the contraction took hold of her.
“Jake was a coach, remember? He might be able to help you breathe through this better than I can.”
Tears welled up in Barbara’s eyes at the pain ripping through her. Between clenched teeth she mumbled, “All right. Get him.”
Instead of leaving Barbara, Tori kept hold of the girl’s hand. “Jake!”
The next moment he was beside her.
“Can you tell her how to breathe?” Tori asked him. “It might help. She says the contractions are coming three minutes apart.”
“Three minutes? We need to get her to the hospital. Barbara, I want you to listen to me.”
His tone was even and calm and seemed to soothe Tori, too. “In between the contractions, take normal, natural breaths.” He saw she was wearing a sapphire ring on her left hand. Taking her hand, he pointed to the ring. “When the contraction begins, I want you to focus on this. Look at the stone and breathe in through your nose and out your mouth until the contraction ends. I’ll be driving, but Tori will be with you in the back seat. She’ll help you concentrate on your breathing. That will help the pain.”
“It’s like my body isn’t even my own! I hate this. I just want it to be over.”
“Then let us get you to the hospital. I’m going to carry you down the steps and take you to the car.”
“But my things…”
Tori saw Barbara’s nightgown and robe hanging on a hook on the dressing room door. She grabbed those. “Your mom can bring you anything else you need when she comes to see you.”
“She won’t come.”
Tori looked Barbara squarely in the eye. “Your mother cares about you. Certainly she’ll bring anything you need to the hospital.”
Another contraction overtook Barbara. Jake reminded her about staring at the ring and about taking even, rhythmic breaths. She did that and didn’t seem as scared this time as the pain grabbed her and then ebbed away.
Gathering her up into his arms, Jake was almost to the door when Barbara pointed to her desk. “There’s a note for my mom. Would you put it on the refrigerator downstairs, Tori, so she sees it? And I need my purse. It has my insurance card in it.”
Amazed by Barbara’s sense of responsibility at a time like this, Tori picked up the note and lifted the leather purse from the desk as Jake carried the teenager out of the room.
A few minutes later, Tori opened the back door of her sedan. Jake propped Barbara by the car as they waited for another contraction to pass. When Tori slid in beside Barbara and timed the contractions, many thoughts flew through her head. Uppermost was the way Jake had handled the teenager. He was so dependable, so solid, so confident. If he hadn’t come with her tonight, she would have had to call the paramedics. She would have felt so alone.
When Jake started the car, she curved her arm around Barbara. “We’ll be there in no time. We’re going to make it.”
“I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” Barbara moaned.
Seeing Barbara in labor reminded Tori she would never experience this life-changing process. If only Barbara could understand how important every step of this was. If only she could realize that an absolute miracle was occurring, she might never put this baby up for adoption.
The lights were with Jake and he pulled up in front of the emergency room at St. Vincent Hospital less than ten minutes later. The tan adobe edifice sat at the foot of t
he mountains. It was a tranquil scene in daylight. Now, in the dark, with Barbara breathing through contractions, all Tori felt was nervous.
The terra-cotta-and-teal waiting room was more welcoming than hospital lounges in most big cities. Barbara had called her obstetrician who had instructed her to go to the O.B. unit. Jake didn’t leave Tori’s side, and she was grateful for that. It wasn’t only chemistry between them. There was a connection that went back twelve years, and right now that felt comforting.
As Dr. Glessner facilitated the check-in, Barbara insisted she wanted both Tori and Jake with her.
Dr. Glessner looked baffled. “Neither of them are related to you.”
“Tori will be adopting my baby. And Jake…he’s been coaching me. Please let them stay with me. I think it’ll be…easier. Can’t you just pretend they’re my parents since my mom’s not here?”
“Since you’re eighteen, this is your choice. We’ll get gowns and hats.” Turning to Jake and Tori, she said, “Just give us a few moments to get her prepared in a labor-delivery suite. I’ll send somebody for you when she’s ready.”
As a nurse helped Barbara into a wheelchair and pushed her toward the suite, Tori turned to Jake. “I understand if you don’t want to be pulled into this.”
“I think it’s too late,” he said with a wry grin. “I remember how scared Nina was before the twins were born.”
“You were very good with her. With Barbara, I mean. I would guess you were very good at your job.”
He shook his head. “Let’s not go there, Tori. I told you I learned how to negotiate with my father. That just carried over into the work I did.”
“I have a feeling you’ve perfected it even more. Not everyone can stay calm in a crisis. Not just anyone can talk a teenager into concentrating on her ring.”
He shrugged. “I know you’re trying to distract yourself from what’s happening. But I’d rather talk about something other than what I used to do.”
Their Baby Bond Page 7
