Unconditional Page 15

  Shay put a hand over mine. “Sorry. This has to be so hard to do alone.”

  I nodded, feeling the familiar lump rise in my throat. “It gets lonely at times. That’s all. It is what it is. Thank you for dinner…and everything. I should be going. I have a full day tomorrow.” I stood and set my plate and cup into the sink. “Goodnight, Maurice,” I called from the doorway.

  He glanced my way and smiled. “See ya’. Take care.”

  Shay walked with me out onto her back porch, rubbing her arms against the early autumn chill. “Nice night.”

  “I love this weather. I can sleep with my window open.” I turned and hugged her. “Thanks, again. Have a good night.”

  “You, too, girlfriend. Remember, I’m right here. I can’t help with that libido issue, but I can listen,” she said with a grin.

  In the house, I turned on the TV and watched the late news. When it ended, I locked up before heading to my bedroom, where I opened my windows. A delicious autumn-scented draft wafted through the rooms as I changed into my nightgown and snuggled under a sheet and light blanket. I woke when an odd twinge grabbed in my abdomen. I drew in a shuddering breath. “Oh, man. What was that?”

  I started to panic and reached for the phone to call Shay, but then realized the time. I hesitated, then dialed Thomas and told him in a jumble of words that I was afraid something was wrong.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  “Hurry.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “It wasn’t a pain, exactly. Just uncomfortable.”

  The ER doctor continued her examination. “How often has this discomfort occurred?”

  “This was the first time. And it only lasted a minute or less.”

  She nodded. “Braxton Hicks contractions. Nothing to be concerned about. Just your body getting you ready for the real thing. Usually a shift of position will take care of it.”

  “It scared the life out of me. I never thought of Braxton Hicks, even though I’ve read up on it already.” I sat up on the table.

  “If you have a pain that is sharper, persistent, and recurring, then you want to get to the hospital. Let Dr. Brodey know you were seen today. I can send a report, if you like, but everything seems to be fine. What you’ve experienced is normal.”

  “I have an appointment on Thursday. I’ll tell him about it then.”

  The doctor made a note on the form attached to a clipboard. “I’ll tell your husband he can come in now.”

  “Oh, he’s not my… He’s…uh… Thank you.”

  Thomas’s face was ashen when he entered the exam cubicle. “Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. I feel ridiculous. It was just Braxton Hicks.”

  His eyebrows knit together. “Who?”

  “False labor. Nothing to worry about.”

  “You’re sure? Maybe we should call Dr. Brodey’s answering service and have him paged.”

  “At two in the morning?” I turned my back to him and began to get dressed. “Not necessary. This doctor is competent.”

  Thomas insisted I wait by the exit door for him to get the car, but I walked beside him to the parking garage. “I can use the exercise.”

  “You shouldn’t be alone tonight. I’ll stay.”

  I whirled around to face him. “No, you won’t. I was checked out and I’m fine. I appreciate you bringing me to the hospital.”

  We made the fifteen minute drive from Mercy Hospital to my house in silence. Thomas walked up to the door and stepped inside behind me. “I’m not leaving you alone tonight. I’ll sleep on the couch.”

  I wanted to argue, but exhaustion drained my energy. I nodded and told him there were clean sheets in the hall closet. I got a glass of water and returned to find Thomas making up the sofa.

  The dim lamplight played across his features. The need to feel his arms around me shot through me like an electric shock. Just for one more night. “You don’t have to make up the sofa. I have a queen size bed in my room. It’s not like we haven’t slept together.”

  “Meg…”

  I held up a hand. “Just…sleep. I’m a little shaken. I was scared when I thought the baby might be in trouble, and I didn’t know who to call.”

  “I’m glad you called me. Do you have an extra toothbrush?”

  “There should be a couple in the drawer next to the bathroom sink. There are towels in the linen closet, too.”

  Thomas returned to the bedroom and removed his jeans and shirt, folding them neatly over the back of the chair. I watched him in the moonlight that streamed through the window. I remembered the feel of his arms around me, the warmth of his body next to mine. My hormones had been going nuts, and I tried to think of something to distract myself.

  Clad only in boxer shorts, Thomas slid into bed beside me. He lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling, his arms crisscrossed behind his head. “So, have you thought of any baby names?”

  I drew in a breath in an effort to regulate my breathing. His familiar scent aroused me even more. This was a very bad idea. “I thought we were going to wait until we know the gender.”

  “We could pick out two names—one for a girl and the other for a boy.”

  “We could. Do you have any ideas?” I focused on the ceiling fan and inched closer to him.

  “If it’s a girl, we could name her after your mother,” he said.

  “I love my mother, but I don’t want to name our daughter Pauline.”

  “If it’s a boy, how about Paul?”

  I rolled that name around. Paul Flores. Then an idea struck me. “Ryan is my mother’s maiden name. Ryan Thomas Flores.”

  Thomas turned his head to face me. “You want to name him after me?”

  “You are his father. Now if it’s a girl, well...maybe Elena Pauline. That covers your mother and my mother.”

  He lifted my hand to his lips. “You never cease to amaze me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. And I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

  I sidled closer and snuggled into the familiar curve of his body. “I don’t want to fight any more.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to hit me with something? I wouldn’t blame you, you know.”

  I started to retort that I’d love to beat the crap out of him. But I didn’t want to do that, and I didn’t want to joke about it. “No, I don’t want to hit you. But I would totally enjoy driving a steamroller over Francisco.” I backed against him and drew his arm across my chest.

  “I think we’re getting along pretty well, don’t you? I mean, we have our moments, but…” His breath ruffled my hair.

  “We are.” I paused. The scent of him, the warmth of his body wrapped around mine—it all collided at once. “Thomas, I…uh. Sometimes I think about when we made love. Was it bad for you? Because it was good for me. And I start to wonder if I know anything at all about sex. Then the hormones kick in and, I swear, if you were standing here, I’d…I’d screw your brains out.”

  He laughed softly. “Remember when you used to have PMS and I’d suggest your mood was hormone-related? You’d practically take my head off.”

  I had to laugh, too. It was true. “I remember. Don’t worry. I won’t take advantage of you in your sleep.” I tried to focus on the emotional intimacy we shared, but my body was wired. So I momentarily envisioned Francisco. Just like pulling a plug out of the socket, my libido sparked and shorted out.

  Then Thomas raised up on one elbow and looked down at me. “Why are you crying?”

  Until he mentioned it, I didn’t know I was. I swiped angrily at my tears. “It’s nothing.”

  He swept my hair off my face. “It’s something. What is it?”

  “I shouldn’t have let you stay. I’m just so wired. I thought being close to you would be enough, but it’s not. And it’s just so damned frustrating.”

  “Meg.” He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he gazed at me with such tenderness. He kissed my forehead, then my mouth. Softly. His hand rested on my hip before
tracing over my belly, pausing briefly.

  “Thomas…”

  “Shhh.” His fingers slipped between my legs.

  I moved against his exploring hand and moaned. I knew what he was doing and at the moment I loved him for it. I’d hate him later, but right now I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensations until my body arched and gave way to release. I could probably have done this myself, but he was so much better at it.

  Long after Thomas slept, I lay in the dark with his arm across my chest, having a déjà vu moment. So many feelings surged through me. Desire, shame, sadness, relief. How had I ended up sleeping with him tonight? Why the hell hadn’t I called Audrey for help? Jesus, Kat would have a field day with this. If I told her about it.

  ~ * ~

  On Thursday afternoon, Thomas sat at my side while Dr. Brodey maneuvered the probe over my abdomen. The fuzzy image of the baby appeared on the screen. My breath caught.

  “Let’s see if we can get a better view here.” The doctor moved the probe, then stopped. “And we have a boy.”

  Thomas leaned closer to the screen and murmured, “Would you look at that?”

  I laughed. “You men are so fascinated by that one little organ.”

  “Hey, watch the adjectives,” Thomas replied.

  I murmured, “Hey there, Ryan Thomas.”

  Dr. Brodey offered his congratulations. “You both seem to be doing just fine. I’ll see you in three weeks.”

  I know he was referring to me and the baby, but my thoughts went to me and Thomas. We were doing fine. Much to my surprise.

  Thomas left the room with the doctor while I got dressed. After I scheduled my next appointment, I joined Thomas in the waiting room. Once inside the elevator, I asked, “Are you happy that it’s a boy?”

  “I’d be happy with either. But…” He smiled broadly. “I’m ecstatic that I’ll have a son.”

  It was such a bittersweet moment, and my eyes filled at the same time my lips curved into a smile. I’d become an emotional yo-yo.

  “Do you want to have dinner?” Thomas asked.

  “I don’t know. I… Thomas, about the other night. I should have called Audrey.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. This is my baby. I want you to call me if you need anything.”

  “I should never have allowed you to stay with me. I sure as hell shouldn’t have invited you into my bed. And I definitely should not have allowed what happened.”

  “I feel responsible for you, for taking everything away from you.”

  The elevator came to a stop and the doors whooshed open. We exited into the lobby. “I have to learn not to rely on you. Maybe we shouldn’t put off the divorce.”

  “We made that decision for practical purposes. It’s only a matter of a few months.”

  I stopped and looked up at him. “I can’t live with one foot on each side of the fence.”

  He stared into my eyes. “Now you know how I’ve felt.”

  I bit my bottom lip. I tried to summon up anger, but it wasn’t there. Sadness washed over me. Sadness for Thomas, for myself, and for our child who would be born into this mess that was our lives.

  I fumbled in my purse for my car keys. “I don’t think dinner’s such a good idea right now. I’ll talk to you later.”

  ~ * ~

  “You did what?” Nikki followed me into my office.

  “I slept with Thomas. And I mean, slept.” I wasn’t about to tell her the whole story. Suffice to say, Thomas and I did not have sex in the purest sense of the word. I had sex, sort of. “It wasn’t the best idea I’ve ever had.”

  “Ya’ think?”

  “I want to get past all of the anger and just get on with life.” I shoved my purse into my bottom desk drawer.

  “Uh-huh. Wouldn’t that require keeping more distance from Thomas?”

  “He and I already agree it was a bad idea. Besides we didn’t do anything. I have to forgive him so I can move on.”

  Nikki shook her head. “You’re a bigger woman than I am.” Then she glanced at my abdomen and laughed. “I mean that in the figurative sense.”

  I smiled and rested my fingertips on my belly. “It’s a boy, by the way.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t get so excited.”

  “I was just thinking a girl would be easier for you. You know…being a single mother.”

  “It doesn’t matter, really. I will love my child, no matter what.” I realized in that moment why it was so important for me to get past the hurt and anger with Thomas. I loved him when he was Thomas—my husband, my lover, and my best friend. I loved him before he was gay, or before he acknowledged his preference. Love doesn’t die just because a person changes. Not real love.

  I thought of Grandad. He loved me when I was an inquisitive five-year-old asking non-stop questions as I followed him around the house. And he continued to love me when I became a rebellious teen who wanted to argue politics and who avoided him in favor of going out with my friends. He loved me without conditions.

  “You okay?” Nikki asked.

  “Fine. What does my schedule look like today?” I lowered into my desk chair.

  “Your first appointment canceled. The next one is at ten-thirty.”

  “Good. Have a seat for a minute. Let’s talk.”

  Nikki chose the rocking chair. “Every time we talk in here, I feel as though I should tell you my deepest, darkest secrets.”

  I chuckled. “You have deep, dark secrets?”

  “Don’t we all? But what’s on your mind?”

  “I’ve found you a new job.”

  Her face drained of color. “You what? What did I do?”

  “Nothing. It’s temporary. I can’t afford to pay you while I’m on maternity leave. I spoke with Kat Newberry, and she can use some help in her practice. She’s moving her office and the timing is perfect. She needs someone to help reorganize her files, get the new office established, and assist her in hiring a new full-time receptionist. She’s been sharing an assistant with two other psychiatrists. Now she’s moving into her own practice. Are you okay with that?”

  “I don’t know. What if I like it there?” she asked with a grin.

  “You better not. Though she can probably afford to pay you more than I can.”

  She laughed. “I don’t think I’d have half as much fun. Odds are good Dr. Newberry doesn’t also run a matchmaking service for her clients and relatives.”

  “That’s not funny. I must have lost my mind that day.” I sniffed. “Is that freshly brewed coffee?”

  “Decaf. Just for you.” The phone rang and Nikki jogged to her office to take the call. I poured a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette, then retrieved my day planner from the top drawer of my desk and prepared to start my work day. I browsed the pages and realized it had been almost a month since Julian had an appointment. I questioned if I should call to see if my somewhat unethical behavior drove him off. I made a note to call him at the end of the day. Or should I wait and let Julian contact me? I had painted myself into a very tight proverbial corner. I buzzed for Nikki. “Would you call Julian Mayes and ask if he would like to schedule an appointment this week? Tell him I’m cutting back on hours and wanted to be sure to have an opening for him if he wants to come in.”

  Nikki bounced into my office later in the afternoon. “I got hold of Julian. He says he’s doing great and doesn’t need an appointment right now. He also said Audrey is a lot of fun and has helped him get balance back into his life. He said to thank you and that he was sure he’d see you soon.”

  “Really? He mentioned Audrey to you?”

  “Yeah. It sounds like they really hit it off.”

  “That’s good to know. Getting information out of Audrey is like tapping a dry well for a drink of water.”

  Nikki shrugged. “Maybe if you back off, she’ll open up more.”

  Her insight astonished me. “Huh. You could be right. You can leave early if you want. I’m just going to finish up a few notes, then I’m
heading to Audrey’s for dinner. I’d just as soon go right home. I’m exhausted and my back is killing me.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Oh, Nikki?” I called after her. “You should give Kat Newberry a call tomorrow.”

  “Will do. Have a good night.”

  I made a vow to keep my nose out of my sister’s love life. Then I grinned, thinking she may actually have one. And I frowned, realizing I didn’t. It would be a while before I’d be ready to dive back into the dating pool. Trust had never been an issue for me. I had trusted my family to always be there for me, to love me no matter what, and with good reason. I had trusted Thomas to be the man he pretended to be and to stand by me forever. His betrayal shook what trust I had in him and in men, in general. I took comfort in knowing I would be much too busy once the baby came to even think about a relationship.

  ~ * ~

  I watched Audrey while she moved around the small kitchen, making coffee and dishing up the dessert I had brought—cheesecake with strawberries. She’d lost weight. And I hadn’t seen her wearing glasses in weeks. “Aud, are you on a diet?”

  “No, why?”

  “You look like you’ve lost weight.”

  “I’ve been going to the gym.”

  “You?”

  She set a plate of cheesecake in front of me. “Why is that so surprising?”

  “I don’t know. It just is. Where are your glasses?”

  “I got new contacts.” She frowned. “You hated those glasses.”

  “I know, but… You seem so different.”

  “Because I lost a few pounds and replaced my contacts?” She set two cups of coffee on the table and returned to her seat across from me. “A friend suggested the gym as a way of working off stress.”

  “You can talk to me any time, you know.”

  “You’ve been more stressed than I have. Besides, it feels good to get out from behind my desk and work out. I can literally feel the stress from work evaporate.”

  I’d heard those words before. Then I remembered. I’d made the suggestion to Julian that he was using work to cope with stress, but the work was the very source of his stress. I knew where my sister got the idea. Seemed she and Julian had been helping one another.