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Almost.
DESPITE HER CERTAINTY, she was so nervous when she went into her doctor’s office to take the pregnancy test, she couldn’t just sit and wait for the results, pretending she cared what Good Housekeeping said about organizing closets. She went for a walk, just a couple of blocks, but it was easier to reason with herself when she was moving than sitting still in a waiting room full of other people.
You think you’re pregnant, her doubting inner self said, but so did Bloody Mary. Haven’t you ever heard of hysterical pregnancy?
She had, and she might be a good candidate, as desperate as she was to be pregnant.
“I’ll bet Queen Mary didn’t have morning sickness,” she argued with herself.
A couple of passing teenage boys in gigantic pants and black bandannas gave her a “yo, you’re crazy, lady” look.
Maybe she was. Her breath came short. Thank God she hadn’t told Caleb.
There was one way to settle this.
Laurel turned resolutely and went back to the clinic.
The receptionist didn’t even let her sit down. “Dr. Schapiro will see you now.”
She escorted Laurel to an office rather than an examining room.
The doctor was perhaps fifty, with a dark bob of hair, crinkles beside her eyes and a warmth that seemed genuine. She stood and shook hands with Laurel across the desk.
“I know this is good news for you. You’re pregnant.”
Laurel closed her eyes momentarily against a wave of joy and relief.
“It is good news?”
“Yes, I…yes.”
Her gaze was curious, but she didn’t ask why Laurel hadn’t been back to have the sperm implanted here. “We’ll get you scheduled for your first prenatal exam, and I’ve already written you a prescription for vitamins. How are you feeling?”
“Nauseated.” Laurel made a face. “Pretty much constantly. Or maybe I should say, unpredictably. I thought it was called morning sickness. Shouldn’t I feel great in the afternoon?”
Dr. Schapiro laughed. “Unfortunately, it’s called that only because nausea on first rising is common. There are women who tell me they feel dandy in the morning and then can’t eat dinner, and others who suffer from a certain level of nausea pretty much all day. I take it you’re one of those?”
Laurel nodded. “I’m trying to keep eating. I know it’s important. But it’s hard. Every so often I’m suddenly starved, but if I eat very much I throw it up an hour later.”
“The good news is, morning sickness usually only lasts through the first trimester. But it’s really important that you’re able to keep food down.” She talked for a few minutes about eating small amounts, what foods were least likely to cause nausea and which were most important for the fetus’s development.
Armed with a pile of handouts and an appointment a month later, Laurel walked out of the clinic in a daze. She was pregnant. First try. She’d known she was pregnant. So why the sense of unreality now?
Because she hadn’t gotten pregnant the usual way? Well, yeah. The big event had borne more resemblance to treating herself for a yeast infection. Except for the standing-on-her-head part.
A chilly trickle down her spine made her wonder whether she was really feeling fear. She’d taken a huge step, and now had to live with the consequences. And she had to tell everybody, starting with her dad and sister. She’d have to suffer the questions and curiosity of everybody at work. She wasn’t even sure how the women in her support group truly felt about her decision.
But it’s my decision, she reminded herself. Nobody but hers. Which, when she got right down to it, was what made it so scary.
Managing financially was a worry, of course. She made a decent living at Vallone, Penn and Cooper, the law firm, but she’d need to take maternity leave, and then find reliable day care. Caleb had insisted on paying child support at a very minimum. She knew he’d give her more if she’d take it, but the reality was, Caleb had fathered her baby out of kindness, no matter what he’d said to the contrary. What happened once he got married and had other children? What if his wife resented the existence of this child that wasn’t even the vestige of a former relationship? Laurel had to be self-supporting. She wanted to be able to put away a good deal of the money from Caleb in a college fund.
When she got home, Laurel called first her father and then her sister and invited them to dinner Saturday night.
“I have news,” she admitted to Megan. “No, not a word until Saturday.”
“You’re going back to law school!” her sister crowed.
The pain took her by surprise. She should have realized that’s what Meg would assume. Why did it hurt so much? Because her own sister didn’t know her well enough to understand why she couldn’t go back? Because a part of her hadn’t quite let go of the dream?
She managed to say, “No. It’s not that. Sorry.”
“Oh. Well,” Meg rallied, “don’t be sorry. I can’t wait to hear what the news is. Dad’s coming, you said?”
Friday afternoon, as she left work, Caleb fell in step with her in the lobby. “You going to let a guy take you out to dinner?”
Startled, she spun so quickly her ankle turned and she would have gone down but for his quick grip on her arm. “You always manage to sneak up on me!”
“What better place to lie in wait for you?”
“Did you just get in?”
“12:16 p.m. I went home, took a shower, changed clothes, then headed here.”
They emerged onto Fourth Street, where traffic was bumper to bumper and the sidewalks jammed. Caleb laid a hand on her back to steer her. “I’m a block down.”
“Of course you are.”
His grin flashed. As long as she’d known him, everyone had teased him about his luck.
In the crowd, talking wasn’t practical. Horns sounded, bus brakes squealed and the sound of a deep bass pounded from a car that was stuck in traffic. Neither Caleb nor Laurel said a word until Caleb unlocked his Prius and they both got in and the racket of the outside world was buffered. He put the key in the ignition, but didn’t turn it. Instead, he looked at her. “So?”
She knew what he was asking. “I’m pregnant.”
His smile was a glorious burst of delight. “Really? Now?”
“No, tomorrow.” She poked him. “Of course, now.”
“You’ve had a pregnancy test?”
“Yes, and I’m spending half my time hugging toilets.”
“Morning sickness?”
Laurel sighed. “In lieu of rejecting the fetus, my body is rejecting everything else I put in it.”
“My mom swears morning sickness is why she never had another kid. She actually ended up in the hospital when she got dehydrated.”
Great. She’d needed to hear this.
“Most women go through it and come out just fine on the other side.” She was counting on it. “Which is usually after three months.”
“And right now, you’re—” he frowned, calculating “—five weeks?”
“Six.”
“Have you told anyone?”
She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow is the big day. I’m having my dad and Meg over to dinner. I admitted to Meg that I had a big announcement.”
He must have heard something in her tone. “Did she guess?”
“She assumed I was going back to law school.”
“Ah.” Caleb studied her, but said nothing.
“What?”
His eyebrows rose. “I didn’t say anything.”
“But you were thinking it.” Laurel knew she sounded bellicose.
“I was thinking, My God, we’re having a baby.”
Tears abruptly filled her eyes, and she bit her lip. “We are, aren’t we?”
He reached out and took her hand. “Did you ever think, back in college, that we’d come to this?”
“Not that you’d donate sperm.” She had sometimes dreamed that one day they would look at each other and realize that the like they’d fallen into had become love. Maybe it had, on her side. Or at least, she’d become aware of the possibility. But that she’d cold-bloodedly choose him to father her baby because he was handsome, smart and healthy… No, never that.
“Yeah, that one would have taken me by surprise, too.” Still smiling, he started the engine. “Do you want me to be there tomorrow night?”
She turned her whole upper body. “Would you?” Hope trembled in her voice.
“I’d like to be.” He looked over his shoulder to merge into traffic. “I was afraid…”
“What?”
His shoulders moved, a small jerk. “That you wouldn’t want to be open about me being the father.”
Nonplussed, she realized she had never really thought it through. If Matt had fathered her baby, she’d intended to keep the knowledge among a chosen few. Probably her dad and sister. They’d met Matt a few times and knew he and Laurel were friends. But a more public announcement would have been awkward all around. Either she explained to everyone that it was just sperm, or people would think he and she had had a fling, which wasn’t kind to Sheila.
But with Caleb… It wouldn’t matter if most people assumed they’d had a brief relationship. At least, it wouldn’t to her.
She sneaked a glance at his profile.
He turned his head, his blue eyes meeting hers. “This taking deep thought?”
“No, I was just realizing that it didn’t. Unless you’d rather I kept it to myself, I don’t mind if everyone knows you’re the father.”
“Like I told you, I want to be a father. In every sense of the word.”
If he hadn’t signed a contract and parenting plan—well, okay, if he wasn’t Caleb—that might have scared her. If Matt had started talking like that, she would have freaked. She’d wanted the baby to be hers. Hers alone.
How funny that now she was okay with this baby being theirs.
Unaware of her reverie, Caleb muttered a profanity as a hulking SUV cut him off on the freeway.
“Have you told your parents?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I figured I’d wait until it happened.”
She couldn’t blame him, since she’d done the same. Almost at random, Laurel said, “I’m planning dinner for six tomorrow.”
“Cooking doesn’t nauseate you?”
“Yeah, but I’ll survive.”
“Why don’t I cook? You have to admit, my sweet-and-sour pork is to die for.”
“Why aren’t you married?”
“Huh?”
“Do you know how many women would kill for a man who’d make that kind of offer?”
This grin was faintly wicked. “Yeah, I’m one of a kind. Women do propose all the time. But I’m saving myself for…” He broke off.
“For?”
“God knows. An octogenarian wedding?”
“You and a little white-haired lady in a nursing home?”
“Maybe.” He growled something under his breath. “Does traffic get worse every day, or is it my imagination?”
Contemplating the giant parking lot I-5 had become, Laurel said, “It gets worse, I think. That’s why I ride the bus.”
His face settled into a frown. “I don’t like the idea of you having to take buses when you’re really pregnant.”
“As opposed to only a tiny bit pregnant?”
He ignored her flippancy. “What if you have a long wait? And the Metro buses have lousy shock absorbers.” He wasn’t done. “What if you have to stand? And you know how you get jostled getting on and off.”
She did know, and wasn’t looking forward to it. But the idea of squeezing herself behind the wheel of a car, only to inch along the freeway, was even less appealing.
“The bus is actually pretty relaxing. And people are nice. Somebody would give up their seat for me.”
“Hell, let’s get off here.” He took the Forty-fifth Street exit and got in the left lane to head west, toward the Sound. “What do you feel like eating?”
