by Parker, Ali
I tossed in a few more things before zipping the case and then dragging it to the door. There was still no word from my driver. I poured myself another drink and sat down on the couch to wait. I missed her. That pissed me off more than anything else. I missed her like crazy. I missed talking to her and simply being near her. I had found myself all wrapped up in this weird thing with her and I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to miss her. I wanted to shrug my shoulders and keep on moving forward with my life. Instead, I felt like I was stuck. I couldn’t think about tomorrow or the next day without her being in it. I wasn’t sure when things got so twisted.
“Rules were meant to be broken,” I quipped, thinking about my steadfast rule to never get involved with any woman beyond sex.
I’d failed at that too. I was on a real roll. Never had I been prone to failing at anything, and in a matter of months, I broke my rule to keep my heart guarded, was probably going to fail at securing my inheritance, and had alienated my family because I was in no mood to hear their lectures about the fight with Jack. It had been stupid, and I lost my temper. Another thing to add to my growing list of screw-ups. It was all because of Hannah. She had come along and ruined everything. I couldn’t think straight, and it was her fault.
My phone rang—finally. I reached for it and answered. “It’s about time. I’ll be down in two minutes,” I said with a growl.
“Grayson, it’s Jack.”
I sat forward. I had assumed it was my driver, not my damn brother. “What do you want?” I snarled, almost happy he’d been the one to call and make the first move to apologize.
“Mom’s in the hospital,” he said, and I felt my world tilt to the side a little and it had nothing to do with the alcohol.
“What?” I replied, not quite believing the words.
“Mom is in the hospital. I don’t have any details. I thought you would want to know,” he said in a friendly tone despite my own surliness.
“What happened?” I asked, needing information.
“I don’t know. James called and said the ambulance was taking her in,” he explained.
I ran a hand through my hair, reminding myself I needed a haircut. “I don’t understand. Is she hurt?”
Jack sighed. “I really don’t know anything. James called me, and I called you right away.”
“Which hospital?” I asked, looking down at my attire.
I was dressed for a tropical vacation in khaki shorts, a T-shirt, and a pair of loafers. I felt a little weird to be going out into public without one of my tailored suits, but I wasn’t going to waste any time changing to impress anyone. My mom was hurt and that was all that mattered.
He told me the name, I was nodding, grabbing my wallet, and heading for the door. The trip would have to wait.
“I’ll be there within twenty minutes,” I said and hung up the phone.
That was assuming my damn driver ever showed up. I immediately called the man and asked where in the hell he was. He was turning onto my street and would be out front within minutes. I took one last look around my apartment and headed out the door with nothing more than my phone and wallet.
I was at the hospital fifteen minutes later. I strolled through the emergency entrance and immediately spotted Jack sitting in the waiting room. I moved toward him, my heart pounding in my chest, afraid of what I was about to hear. I couldn’t lose my mom. It hadn’t been that long since my father had died. I couldn’t lose them both. With my recent behavior, I had managed to completely cut myself off from my entire family. I knew she would forgive me.
Jack saw me and stood up, not saying a word.
“Well?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. They said she’s with a doctor.”
“What happened? Why is she here?”
He shook his head. “All I was told is there was some kind of accident. I have no idea what happened or how badly she’s hurt.”
My heart sank. “An accident?” I asked in a harsh voice.
Jack looked at me with concern. “All we can do is wait.”
I flopped down in the chair next to him. I wanted to know the second he knew something. I looked around the waiting room. Everyone had the same look I saw on Jack’s face. They were concerned for a loved one and relegated to sitting in the rather uncomfortable chairs while they waited for news. I waited and watched the clock and the people coming and going. Some with very obvious injuries and others who looked perfectly healthy.
“I’m going to ask again. This is ridiculous,” I said, standing up and marching for the glass window that divided those waiting—like me—with the medical staff.
“Can I help you?” the middle-aged woman asked without looking up from her computer.
“I’m asking about my mother—again. Kathy Bancroft was brought in by ambulance over an hour ago,” I said, my tone clipped.
The woman looked up at me. I gave her a direct stare that said I meant business and wasn’t going to accept another canned response. I wanted a damn answer and I would buy the hospital if I had to in order to get the people caring for my mother to tell me something.
“Mr. Bancroft, the doctor will be out to speak with you shortly. They’re making your mother comfortable and we’re getting a room ready for her upstairs.”
“Why is she uncomfortable? We’ve been here an hour and have no idea what happened to her!”
The woman shook her head. “I don’t know. You’ll have to talk with the doctor.”
I had to fight the urge to stomp my foot and throw a real tantrum. I didn’t, knowing damn well the alcohol running through my blood would have people believing I was drunk. I wasn’t. The phone call from Jack had sobered me up almost instantly.
“Well?” Jack asked when I returned to my chair.
“They’re getting her a room. Said they were making her comfortable and the doctor would be with us shortly,” I repeated.
“Shortly was an hour ago,” Jack snapped.
For once in a very long while, I agreed with Jack. They were taking their sweet time and it was pissing me off. I had expected James to show up, but Jack informed me he was out of town. He only knew about the accident because the maid had called him to let him know. The accident was still a mystery.
We were stuck waiting until someone felt we were important enough to speak with. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was glad Jack was there with me. We weren’t exactly talking, but if bad news was delivered, I felt better having someone there with me.
“She’s going to be okay,” Jack said in a low voice.
I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or saying it to himself. Regardless, the words helped.
“Yes, she will. She’s a tough lady. She managed to raise the six of us. She has to be tough,” I mused.
I leaned back and waited for the doctor, watching as other people were called back, doctors came out calling one name or another, but not my mother’s. I was giving them five more minutes before I raised serious hell.
Chapter 52
Hannah
I heard the doorbell ring and knew it was Amber with the groceries I had ordered from the local market. I had become a shut-in. It wasn’t only because I was hiding from Grayson. I was, but it was also because I felt miserable. The morning sickness was an all-day sickness. When I had my first appointment with the obstetrician, I was informed that some women experienced morning sickness for months … and it could last all day. I was not looking forward to another six months of throwing up for random reasons. It could be what I ate, what I looked at, or what I smelled. The worst part was I never knew what a trigger was until it was too late.
Amber was bringing me groceries and we were going to make a healthy dinner together. I had to eat right for my baby. Without a job or anything else to do with my time, I had spent a lot of time shopping online. I was already shopping for nursery items as well as maternity clothing. Today’s shopping spree had included groceries. I would never have to leave my apartment again—assuming I didn’t want to e
njoy a park, the mall, or a nice dinner out.
With some time since that horrible morning at the hotel after my wedding night and today, the sting was wearing off. I wasn’t nearly as depressed and was ready to start a new life with my child. I had accepted the fact I was going to be a single mom and was okay with it. I didn’t need him in my life, especially since he didn’t trust me.
“Hi,” Amber greeted when I opened the door.
“Hi yourself,” I said, then smiled, the first one in weeks.
“You’re looking much better today.”
I laughed. “Thank you. I’ve only puked twice.”
“Maybe that means you’re through the worst of it,” she said, with a hint of hope in her voice, carrying the groceries into the kitchen.
I sucked in a deep breath. I prayed I was. I had been devastated for weeks and then to find out I was carrying his child; it had nearly broken me. My heart had been shattered. Hearing him talk to his brother about how much he didn’t trust me after all that had already been said and done, hurt. As if that weren’t bad enough, but the words had come on the first morning of our lives as husband and wife. I had been so naive to think our wedding night meant anything to him. He didn’t care about me. I was a means to an end for him and nothing more. He’d manipulated me, and I had fallen for it all, hook, line and sinker.
“I hope so. I’m starving, and it has been a while since I’ve felt truly hungry,” I told her, looking forward to our baked chicken dinner.
She grinned. “That is a very good sign. Pregnant ladies are supposed to gain weight, not lose it,” she lectured.
“I know, I know. I will. It’s hard to eat when you have to think about what it is going to look like coming back up,” I complained.
She wrinkled her nose. “Gross.”
I laughed. “That is my life now … planning my trips to the bathroom.”
“It’ going to get better.”
“I’m holding you to that. I’ve already accepted I’m not going to be one of those pregnant women who glows. I’m going to look wane and hovering on death’s door until this child exits my body,” I groused.
She burst into laughter. “Exits? That sounds interesting.”
“Vacates? Is that better?”
She was laughing and shaking her head as she unpacked the groceries. “You said you saw this recipe on a cooking show?” she asked.
“Yep. It looked so good and pretty easy. I think we can do it.”
“I hope so. Considering neither of us knows how to cook, this could be very interesting.”
I shrugged. “How bad could it be? The chef lady said anyone could make it.”
“You’ve been watching way too much television.”
I smiled. “You can learn how to do just about anything when you stay home all day, alone with the remote in your hand. I never knew how much TV was out there.”
“Hannah?” Amber said, stopping her unpacking, and looking at me.
“What?”
“How long are you going to keep this from him?”
I sighed. She had been asking me that same question a lot. “I don’t know. I don’t care. I will do this on my own. I don’t want my baby to be used.”
“Hannah, he has a right to know,” she said softly.
“No, he doesn’t.”
“It’s his baby too.”
“Don’t take his side. He didn’t actually want the child. He wanted what the child could bring him,” I shot back.
She cocked her head to the side. “Are you sure about that? You told me about the plans for vacations, T-ball, and things like that. It doesn’t sound like he wanted a baby just to say he made one.”
“Amber, I don’t want him in my life. If he finds out about this child, he is going to demand he be involved.”
She smiled. “That’s what a good dad is supposed to do.”
“I don’t want a good dad. I will be okay raising a baby by myself. I’m financially secure and can handle whatever happens. I don’t want him to know. You can’t tell him,” I ordered.
“I won’t say a word, but I will keep encouraging you to tell him. I believe it is his right. I know you don’t like it, but that’s the truth. You might change your mind down the road. Don’t completely dismiss the idea.”
I ignored her and went about pulling out the seasonings we would need for the recipe. She was supposed to be distracting me from the problem, not bringing it up. Grayson was the problem. I felt protective of my child and didn’t want him getting his hands on him or her and showing the child off like he did something amazing. He donated sperm. I was the one doing all the incubating.
“Can we please talk about something else?” I muttered.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up anymore, but I do want you to think about it. I want what’s best for you and that little peanut baby growing in your belly. I hate to see you worry or suffer alone. This should be an exciting time for you. I only want you to be happy,” she said, looking me in the eyes.
I nodded. “I understand that, and I appreciate your attention and caring more than you can imagine. You will hold a special place in this child’s life. However, I don’t want to think about him, which means you can’t talk about him.”
“Got it. Now, let’s get that recipe and see what we can tear up in your kitchen,” she said with a grin.
I grabbed my tablet, pulled up the recipe I had saved earlier, and handed it to Amber while I turned on some music. It was a little strange not to be drinking a glass of wine while we hung out, but it was my new normal. Amber poured apple juice into two wineglasses and that’s what we sipped while we did our best to imitate what the chef had done earlier that day on TV.
An hour later, Amber pulled the baking dish from the oven and set it on the hot plate. “Well?” she asked with a grimace.
“You do it! I can’t look.” I giggled, staring at the foil-covered pan.
“Here goes nothing,” she said, using a fork to peel back the foil to reveal our masterpiece.
I stared at the chicken breasts covered with green herbs and slices of lemon. I inhaled, waiting to see if the combination of aromas would make me ill. Nothing. No queasiness, no feelings that I was going to need an emergency trip to the bathroom.
“I think it looks great,” I said with a smile.
She nodded. “Me too. How crazy is that? We actually made a recipe!”
I laughed. “Now the real test will be eating it. It smells good, but will it taste good?”
“Only one way to find out,” she said, pulling a couple plates out of the cupboard.
We dished up the baked chicken and scooped the wild rice we had made from a box to go with it. We both carried our plates to the table, staring down at the food as if it would jump up and bite us. I looked at Amber and she looked at me. Being faced with our own cooking was frightening.
“You go first,” she said, waving the fork at my plate.
“I’m pregnant! You go first!” I insisted.
She sighed as she stared down at the plate before using her fork to cut a small piece of the chicken. “Should we pray first? I mean, just in case.”
I laughed. “I can’t believe our cooking is so bad we will instantly die.”
She shrugged a shoulder. “You never know.”
I stared at her, waiting for her to take that first bite. When she popped it into her mouth, I found myself holding my breath. “Well?”
She smiled. “It is really good!”
“Yeah!” I cried out before cutting off my own piece and giving it a try.
The flavors of lemon and oregano erupted in my mouth in a delicious juicy bite of perfectly cooked chicken. She was watching me closely.
“What?” I asked around a mouthful of chicken.
“I’m waiting to see if you’re going to get up and run for the bathroom,” she said with a smile.
I shook my head. “Not yet. This is amazing. If this is the only meal I can eat for the next six months, I’ll be perfec
tly okay with that.”
“Good. I’m glad you like it. We’ve finally found something the baby likes! I have a feeling he or she is going to be a picky eater.”
I rolled my eyes. “I hope not.”
We finished eating our chicken and for the first time in weeks, I felt content. I didn’t have that familiar feeling of nausea.
“Want to watch a movie?” she asked.
“Sure. Something funny. I can’t do sappy right now,” I warned.
“How about a scary movie?”
“No!” I said in horror.
She burst into laughter. She knew I hated scary movies.
“Fine, fine, let’s see what we can find. No drama. No romance. No scary. How about a Melissa McCarthy movie?” she asked, flipping through the channels while I settled in at one end of the couch, my blanket tucked around me.
“Works for me.”
It felt good to have company. I’d been spending a lot of time alone. I wasn’t usually such a recluse. I had always had my work, which got me out of the house a lot. I talked with people all day, every day. Amber was the only person who I had talked with during the past six weeks. She had helped heal my soul and I was feeling more than ready to tackle this new road my life had abruptly turned down.
“I’m going to go. You look exhausted. Go to bed,” Amber said a little while later, rising from the couch and turning off the TV.
I yawned, nodding. “I feel like all I do is sleep.”
“You’re growing a human. I imagine it takes a lot out of you,” she quipped.
I stood up, hugged her, and thanked her for spending the evening with me. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow,” I told her.
“Get some sleep,” she said and walked out the door.
I locked up, turned out the lights, and headed for bed. As I lay there, all I could think about was Grayson. What was he doing? Was he with another woman? I hated to think of it, but I knew there was a good chance he had already moved on. He wasn’t a man to stay unattached or lonely in bed for long. The thought of him touching someone else hurt my heart. I squeezed my eyes tighter, trying to block the images of him with another woman. I couldn’t let myself get worked up.
