by Susan Hatler
“Good morning. Are those for me?”
“Are you Ms. Mortan?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Then, yes. They’re for you.” When he lowered the flowers, offering them to her, she got her first glimpse at his crooked teeth and scruffy face, but his smile was endearing. “The gentleman who ordered these was adamant you receive them before work this morning.” He shuffled between feet.
“Really? Well, thank you. Oh, wait here a second.” Lisa snatched her purse from the table in the entryway. “Here.” Lisa took the flowers from him and he took his tip. “Thanks again.” With the glass vase heavy in her arms, she kicked the front door closed and made her way to the kitchen table.
The scent of fresh lilacs filled the room with a pleasant, sweet aroma. A small envelope protruded from the end of a long clear plastic fork, addressed to Beautiful.
Sliding her finger under the sealed paper, it popped free and she pulled the card out.
I can’t wait to see you. It’s time for us to move forward. After all the talks we’ve had and time we’ve spent together, I’m ready to tell you everything, and I’m ready to listen. I know we’ll only be closer. Trust me with your heart. I won’t break it. Eric.
A tear slipped down her cheek. If only he knew the truth and still wanted her. No man could ever love a woman carrying another man’s baby, no, two babies. Or could he?
The front door flew open and wind gusted through the hallway into the kitchen, chilling her to the core. She raced to the entryway. When she rounded the corner, a man in a suit was standing in the doorway. Not just any man. Mark, and he looked angrier than she’d ever seen him before.
“You told me you terminated the fetus,” he growled. He crossed the threshold, his fists clutched at his side.
She instinctively wrapped her arms around her belly. “Listen, I don’t know how you found out—”
“You’re not real bright, are you? Where do you think the insurance company sent the doctor bill?”
Silently, she cursed herself for such an epic mistake. After forwarding her mail to the shop, changing her address for every credit card and bank account, she’d forgotten about updating her health insurance. “You don’t have to worry. I don’t want anything from you.” Backing into the sitting room, she rounded into the kitchen and snatched her car keys from the counter. The familiar furrowed dark brow, pressed lips and twitching jaw warned her to protect her unborn children. He’d only grabbed her arm last time, but she didn’t want to find out how far he’d take it this time.
He advanced and she cowered away from him, trying to put the dining table between them.
Mark sighed, running his hand through his hair, and retreated to the sofa. “I’m sorry I grabbed you. Don’t run. We need to talk.” He glanced at her, his face softer but still accusing. “You lied to me.”
“I couldn’t terminate—”
“Not just about that,” he shouted, “about everything. We had an arrangement. Neither of us wanted children, ever. Remember? We are not fit to be parents.”
Lisa took a cautious step toward him. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Mark. And I agree that we weren’t meant to be parents. That’s why I came here. I wanted to find a good home for our child.”
Mark shot up. “No. The system doesn’t work.” He lifted his sleeve. “You know how awful it is in foster care.” He pointed to the faded cigarette burns on his forearm. “You see this? It’s what a foster dad does when you don’t take out the trash.” He yanked down the collar of his expensive shirt, popping off one of the buttons. “This is what happens when you fall asleep watching television.” More burn marks dotted his neck and collarbone.
“I knew how you felt about foster care, that’s why I was finding a family to adopt the baby.”
“Adoption’s no better. No. I won’t put a child through that. You have to terminate. And I’m here to make sure you do.”
“I don’t understand. You’ll give millions to children’s charities, but you want to kill your own child?”
Mark advanced. “That’s different. Those children are already here. We don’t have to add to the problem. Why are you making this so difficult? Just end the pregnancy and then we’ll both be free.”
“Free? Is that all you care about?” Lisa shouted at him for the first time in the two years they’d been together.
He stopped, his eyes wide, and his mouth dropped for a second before he recovered. “You’re not going to trap me like my mother did my father. I’m not going to work myself into an early grave just to have you toss that child out when the money stops. I won’t do it.” His lip curled into a snarl.
“And I won’t ask you to. I promise, I won’t,” she said, standing her ground. “I’ll keep the baby and I won’t ask for a dime. I’m not your mother.”
“Liar.” He advanced again, his jaw tight, his face crimson.
This wasn’t going to end like last time. With his extra foot of height and twice her weight, she knew that, at best, she’d walk away with a few bruises. But at the worst, the babies would be harmed.
Mark lunged and snatched her arm. “Give me the keys,” he snarled. “You’re not going anywhere but to an abortion clinic.”
Obediently, she dropped the keys on the floor. When he bent down to retrieve them, she snatched the bowl of fruit off the counter and crashed it over his head. Then she bolted from the kitchen, down the hall, and out the front door. With no cell phone, coat, or shoes, she raced through the neighbor’s yard and down the back alley to the main street.
Every inch of her body shook with fear and cold. Her feet crushed something sharp. Glancing down, she spotted blood on her toes, but still she didn’t stop. Her legs continued to move, as if by their own will. She pumped her arms and sprinted between bushes. Crossing the next street, cars squealed to a halt, but she just kept running. With no real direction, only one word pounded in her head. Protect.
Lisa halted at an intersection and looked behind her. There was no sign of Mark. Oh, God. Did she seriously injure him? Had she overreacted?
A familiar car rolled to a stop in front of her and she stumbled back with a gasp.
“Darling, what are you doing out here dressed like that?” Cathy Mitchell leaned over the passenger’s seat. “You’re going to catch your death. Get in.”
Another car turned onto the street, the luxury vehicle sticking out amongst the dirty trucks and SUVs lining the curbs. Lisa hopped in the car.
“What’s going on, dear?” Mrs. Mitchell asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Lisa swung around, peering through the back window. Mark’s car was getting closer. “Drive. Just drive.”
Mrs. Mitchell grasped the steering wheel. “All righty, hon. Calm yourself. Where to?”
“I…I don’t know. Just drive.” Lisa wrung her hands and turned back to face the front. “To the store. To main street. There’s lots of people there.”
“Okay, dear.” Mrs. Mitchell slid the gearshift into drive then turned the corner, heading to Main Street.
“Hurry. Please,” Lisa begged, catching a glimpse of Mark’s car in the side mirror.
“You want me to step on it?” Mrs. Mitchell shot her a sideways smirk.
“Yes.”
Mrs. Mitchell smashed the pedal to the floor and they flew through multiple side streets, cars slamming on their brakes to avoiding hitting them. The woman belonged in movies as a stunt car driver. They took a turn so sharply Lisa thought two wheels would come off the ground.
“I’m sorry I got you involved in this,” Lisa muttered.
“Oh, dear. Don’t be. I needed a little excitement. Besides, don’t you know? I like to be in the middle of everything.” Mrs. Mitchell winked then cornered sharply again at the bakery before squealing to a stop in front of the antique store. “You’ll be safe here.” She slid her cell phone from her pocket and started dialing. “Go on inside and get yourself cleaned up.”
“What about you?” Lisa asked, swi
nging around to keep an eye out for Mark.
“Don’t worry, we lost him. Oh, and I’ll be fine. Trust me.” Mrs. Mitchell shooed her out the car.
Lisa gave her the best smile she could manage. “Thanks,” she said, but the woman was already lost in her phone call, no doubt recounting Lisa’s strange behavior and whatever gossip she wanted to share. Lisa sighed. It was time. The truth needed to be told before gossip could spread. That was what Dr. Hendricks and Judy had encouraged her to do.
Maneuvering out of the car, her feet burned in protest. Her back ached and her stomach cramped. She mounted the few steps to the front door before she saw Mark’s car turn onto Main Street. Her gut clenched tight as she hurried into the store. She needed a moment to think, to figure out what to do.
The bell jingled above the door and Judy appeared by the register. Lisa’s belly knotted tight and the pressure down low became so intense she thought her insides would fall out. She took two steps then spasms clenched her back tight. Crying out, she fell to the floor.
“Eric!” Judy yelled.
Eric?
Through the pain ripping her pelvis apart, she heard shuffled footsteps into the main room. Blood pooled around Lisa’s knees and she doubled over, tears pouring down her face. “Oh, God. No.”
A commotion sounded outside. The door swung open and she caught a glimpse of red and purple. “The store’s closed,” Mrs. Mitchell’s voice carried inside before it shut again.
“It’ll be okay.” Judy wrapped her motherly arms around Lisa and rocked her. “Eric, call an ambulance.”
“Eric?” Lisa looked up through tear-filled eyes. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” she murmured.
“I know she’s in there,” Mark’s voice burst through the seams around the door, threatening to invade.
Another cramp twisted her belly in knots, taking her breath away, and she gasped.
Eric dropped to his knees and wiped the tears from her face. “Never. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it better.”
Lisa fought her constricting throat to form words. “I’m pregnant, Eric. That’s what I wanted to tell you. At least…I was.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Eric paced the hospital waiting room. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered to himself. He wrung his hands to stop the shaking. “The blood.”
His mother rubbed his shoulder. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t…I can’t do this. Not again.” He bolted for the bathroom. “This isn’t happening.” Leaning on the sink, he concentrated on slowing his pulse and taking long, steady breaths before he faced himself in the mirror. His bloodshot eyes stared back at him. He wanted to scream, to yell at God and tell him it wasn’t fair. None of it.
The look on Lisa’s face, the terror reflected in her beautiful eyes. How did he not know she was pregnant? How stupid he’d been. Yet, his mother, she’d known the entire time.
He yanked off his tie and shoved it in his pocket before splashing water on his face. His hands continued to tremble. “Give me strength,” he pleaded.
Lisa faced losing a child. Had she told the father about the baby, or had she run off. Had she done the same thing that Mary Lynn had done to him?
His anguish subsided and anger gripped his soul. Slamming his palms against the countertop, he straightened and headed back to the waiting room. If she didn’t lose the baby, the father had a right to know. And when he did, he’d step up and be a part of her life, of the baby’s life.
Halfway down the hall, he spotted a woman with a black eye in the waiting room, and remembered the bruise on Lisa’s wrist. What if she’d fled because the father was abusive? If so, then did the father still have a right to know about his child? Yes, Eric told himself. Every man deserved to see their child.
“Eric.” His mother held up her hands, cutting him off from the waiting room. “You don’t know everything.”
“Does the father know about the baby?” Eric asked, his cool tone causing him to swallow down his anger.
“Yes, but there’s always more to the story.” His mother squeezed both his arms. “The father’s at the nurse’s station now. But, he’s not like you, Eric. Not all men want to be a father.”
Eric stepped back, scanning the room. “He’s here?”
“Yes.” His mother dropped her hands to her side.
“Then he cares. He’ll want to be a part of the baby’s life.” He swallowed down the darkness that wormed its way back through his body. He’d lost a woman he loved and a baby he didn’t know about, all in one day. “History repeats itself,” he muttered.
His mother grabbed his hand. “No, it hasn’t. This isn’t the same. Lisa isn’t Mary Lynn and it wasn’t your baby. We don’t even know yet if Lisa lost the child.”
A nurse in surgical scrubs approached them. “Mrs. Gaylord? Lisa would like to see you.”
“Come.” His mother waved him to follow.
As if his feet had a mind of their own, they shuffled forward, his body following without the energy to protest. The numbness had already returned to his soul.
Taking the elevator to the sixth floor, they exited onto the maternity ward and saw a man pacing around the nurse’s station. A look of pure terror radiated from him. Eric knew that look, the look of losing his child.
“Don’t do it, Eric,” his mother whispered. “Come and see Lisa with me. She’ll want to explain.”
But Eric just shook his head and released his mother’s hand. He approached the man who stopped pacing and turned to the nurse’s station. “Listen, I give permission to terminate the pregnancy.”
Eric froze. The man must really love Lisa if he was willing to make a tough decision like that. And where does that leave me?
“Sir, you have no legal rights to make that decision,” the nurse said. “You’re not married to Ms. Mortan.”
“Then I want to speak to her. Now.”
“Ms. Mortan is in a delicate state right now. Tests are still being run. You should return to the waiting room until Ms. Mortan sends for you.” The nurse gestured down the hallway toward the waiting room.
He scrubbed his face, small cuts marring the backs of his hands. “Why does that woman get to go in and see her, but I can’t?” the man demanded, pointing at Eric’s mother.
“Because Ms. Mortan requested her.”
The man slammed his fist down on the counter then turned in a huff. A doctor approached cautiously, nodding to the stunned nurse behind the desk and the nurse reached for the phone.
The doctor cut the man off as he advanced toward Lisa’s room. “Sir, if you don’t calm down, I’ll have security remove you from the premises.”
Eric straightened and nudged his mother toward Lisa’s room before approaching the man, not sure if he wanted to slug the guy or take him for a drink. “Hi, I’m Eric Gaylord.”
Both the doctor and the man turned. “So?” the man retorted.
“I understand you’re the father of Lisa’s baby?” Eric asked, clenching his fist at the man’s arrogant attitude. This was the same man he’d seen in the articles he’d found online. The fiancé from New York.
The man rolled his eyes. “If it’s even mine,” he huffed. “That whore claims it’s mine, but she also claimed she terminated the pregnancy before leaving New York.”
Eric clenched and unclenched his hands, fighting back the urge to punch the guy for calling Lisa a whore. The man’s just upset, he told himself. Putting his attorney mask on, he asked, “She told you she’d terminated the pregnancy?”
“Yeah, can you believe that? The bitch tells me that then leaves, so I think it’s all done, nothing to worry about. Then some insurance carrier sends an obstetric bill from some bible squawking, backwards town in Tennessee.” The man glared at the closed door to Lisa’s room. “Well, she’s not going to get away with this.”
Eric took a step forward, ignoring the tug of his mother’s grip on his shirt. “Listen, I know you’re upset,
but you need to tone it down. I’ve been lied to as well. But trust me, if I had a chance to hold my baby in my arms I’d do anything to make it happen. I’m not sure what occurred between you two, but don’t walk away. You’ve got a chance at a family.”
“Family?” the man huffed. “What—” His phone buzzed and he held up one finger. “Mark here,” he said, pressing the phone against his ear.
Eric’s mother pulled on his arm, tugging him away from the man. “Not every man is like you, son,” she whispered. “He might not stand up for Lisa. You don’t know the entire story. Trust me when I say she did the best she could.”
Eric watched the man pace, chuckle and speak into the phone.
“Yeah,” the man said to the person on the other line. “I’m stuck in some backward ass town in the middle of nowhere.” He paused, listening, then said, “Oh, she’ll pay for this. I’ll make sure she never works in New York again.”
Eric shook his head. “No, he just needs time,” he said to his mother. “He’s in shock.” He could remember all too well what that was like.
His mother squeezed his hand. “I hope you’re right. But if not, are you going to let her go? You haven’t smiled or laughed in years, not like you have since Lisa entered your life. You came back to see her, to tell her everything. That hasn’t changed. You know her secret, now let her know yours.”
“Mrs. Gaylord, she’s ready for you,” the doctor said and his mother disappeared through the door.
Eric rubbed his throbbing temple. The pain of her crying in his arms, the thought of her losing her baby, or dying herself, tore him up inside, but it wasn’t his baby. He didn’t need to relive it all again. It wasn’t his business. He turned his back on the door and willed himself to walk out of the hospital, but his feet wouldn’t move.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Stark white walls, stiff bedding, and the smell of disinfectant told Lisa she’d made it to the hospital. The room spun, but she fought to sit up.
“Stay still,” Judy said. “The doctor gave you something to help with the pain and let you relax. You gave us quite a scare, you know.”
