Baby on Board (13 page)

Kate kept herself still as he moved to sit down so that she was between his jeans-clad legs. Her hands curled under her chin as she tried not to touch him. Patrick put one of the pillows between them and urged her to recline. She eased back a few inches, then stopped. His hands on her shoulders, he leaned forward.

“It’s a relaxation exercise, Katie,” he said, his breath puffing in her ear. A shiver went down her spine. “You remember how to relax don’t you?”

Marla came by at that moment. “Settle back against him, Mom. He’s going to be your prop throughout this whole exercise. When the time comes to do this for real, you’ll want this position to be second nature.”

Slowly, Kate leaned into Patrick’s body. His chin brushed her temple as he adjusted her against his chest. She dropped her hands and laid them lightly on his knees. His scent enveloped her and she closed her eyes to savor the aroma. This felt too right, too good and she stiffened again. Patrick ran his hands over her arms.

“Just lean back.” His voice was a low rumble. “I’ve got you.”

Marla led them through the relaxation techniques and guided visualization. The more she said, the easier it became to let go and lean into Patrick. How he had ended up as her coach and whether that was good or bad could be examined another night. Now, she would relax.

She closed her eyes to better absorb the instruction. Breathing deeply, she pulled in more of Patrick’s unique scent. She could feel his slow inhale and exhale matching hers. Cares and worries washed away as she leaned against him. Gradually, she felt surrounded, comfortable and safe. She let her mind wander. Marla’s voice faded. This was what she had longed for in the night, when she woke alone. This feeling of love and support. Kate knew it was an illusion, but she basked in it anyway.

Patrick smoothed her hair away from her face. “Not falling asleep, are you?”

She could hear gentle humor laced through his words. “Mmm. I could.”

Just then, Marla called an end to the class. Kate kept her eyes shut a few moments longer, then roused herself. As she struggled to sit up, Patrick’s strong hands pushed her upright. When she was steady he stood, holding out his hands. Taking them, she eased onto her knees and let him haul her up in a breathless swoop.

Kate avoided his eyes as she gathered her things. Marla handed them a booklet and reminded them that next time they would be visiting a birthing center. Patrick was silent as they filed out of the room, lugging the bag of pillows. He held the door for her and walked beside her to his truck.

He opened the door and tossed the pillows into the cab. “You need help climbing in?”

“I don’t think so.” She put one foot on the step and her hand automatically found the handle on the ceiling, just inside the door. She boosted herself up and in with a laugh.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think of how hard it would be to get into the cab.”

“It’ll be easy to get out of, anyway,” Kate said. “That’s the trouble with cars. I can get in easily, but I need help to get out of them.”

Patrick smiled at that and pulled out the seat belt for her, watching as she snapped it around her girth. When she was settled, he closed the door and went around to the driver’s side. He pulled out of the parking lot and headed toward Kate’s house. They were silent on the drive. Questions flitted in and out of Kate’s head, but none of them seemed to be the right ones to ask. Why had he come to the birthing class? How had he convinced Molly to swap places? They had obviously planned this together. What did he hope to gain? The questions all seemed too combative. The last thing Kate wanted right now was a fight. Instead, she said nothing at all.

At her house, Patrick slid out first then helped her to the ground. He walked beside her to her front door.

“I’ll see you next week,” he said.

The porch light cast odd shadows over his features so she couldn’t read his expression. His voice was neutral, too, giving her no clues. Finally, she nodded.

“Okay.”

Patrick hesitated, his arm still at her side supporting her. “I replaced my cell phone, but the number’s the same. Call me anytime you want something.”

Kate nodded again. “Thanks. I’ll call. If I need you.”

“We could practice those relaxation techniques tomorrow or Thursday.”

He sounded so earnest, she couldn’t help smiling. She turned and unlocked her door. “I’ll keep that in mind. Good night, Patrick.”

She pushed the door open and went inside as Patrick backed away a step, then turned and trotted down the stairs. She heard him drive away. Her mind whirled with thoughts and doubts. She put her bag down and slowly went to her bedroom. It was only nine-thirty, but she was too tired to stay up any longer.

In bed, she turned out the light and arranged herself into a comfortable position. It was getting harder and harder to do. Settled, she closed her eyes and sighed. She tried to puzzle out her own reactions to the night’s events. She should be angry because Patrick had once again thrown her plans into turmoil. She should be angry with Molly for abetting him. She should be angry that, in a weak moment, she had agreed to let him coach her. She should be angry about a whole lot of things, but she wasn’t.

What she felt most was a tenuous sort of peace. She held on to it and let everything else fade away. That peace was enough for now. Tomorrow would take care of itself.

Kate felt more and more lethargic with each passing day. In October, a month after the first birthing class, she stopped blowing glass. It was too difficult to do any large pieces and being on her feet wore her out. Instead, she sat on a stool and worked with her bench torch making pendants, brooches and dream catchers. She also spent more time in the shop chatting with customers and, when it was quiet, sketching designs for future work. Friends and acquaintances came in and asked for updates about her baby. Kate answered reassuringly without telling anyone how ready she was to
not
be pregnant.

Childbirth classes progressed, as well. The trip to the birthing center at a local hospital had been interesting and informative, but frightening, too. Seeing the shining sterile equipment—even though it was camouflaged by soft draperies—fed Kate’s slow-growing nervousness about actually having the baby. Patrick had worked to calm her, but the worry persisted.

Marla taught them more breathing techniques, turning the room into a giant steam engine with their synchronous huffing and puffing. She introduced birthing balls to get them used to the props they could use during labor. Kate had also borrowed a book from her about water-method birthing, an idea Patrick loved. They filled the drives to class discussing the merits and drawbacks. Patrick’s keen interest and participation made Kate deeply happy.

The unhappy one was Steve.

When he learned that Patrick was her coach, it precipitated their first fight. He demanded to know why she had selected Patrick over himself. None of her answers satisfied him. He was especially infuriated when she claimed that it was Patrick’s right as the biological father. Steve argued that the man had no rights unless Kate granted them. Patrick was supposed to remain on the sidelines, not take the field with the first string.

Kate couldn’t bring herself to do the one thing that would make Steve happy. Even though she knew he was right, she needed Patrick. He alone seemed to know intuitively how to keep her spirits up, no matter how fat and tired she felt. When she obsessed about the baby’s health, he had a way of reassuring her that quieted her anxious jitters. The connection between them drove Steve crazy.

Finally, Kate had called a halt. “I won’t push Patrick out of my life yet,” she said to Steve one evening over dinner. “And if I do, it will be because
I
want him gone, not you.” She shook her head and laid down her fork. “Steve, I want to call this off.”

“Call what off?” His eyes were wide with alarm.

“You and I trying to be a couple. A family.”

“But—”

“It was wrong from the start. I should have known that we would have trouble,” she said quietly. “It’s my fault. I’m sorry I misled you for all these weeks.”

Steve frowned. “So it’s over, just like that? Don’t I get any say in this?”

“No, you don’t.” Kate softened her words with a smile. “I’m sorry,” she said again.

Steve had pressed his case vehemently, but Kate was firm. In the end, he had stalked out of the restaurant, furious with her. Kate took a cab home, cried a little and felt a wave of relief wash over her. The encounter, painful though it had been, freed her. The tension of having Steve’s disapproving presence hovering over her every decision disappeared like smoke.

Despite her relief, being with Patrick didn’t get any easier. Their weekly classes were heaven and hell for Kate. It was heaven to be held in Patrick’s arms as they practiced breathing exercises or did guided visualizations together. His strong hands stroked and soothed her, rubbing her back in the exact spot where it ached the most. He teased her about being as big as one of his racing boats and threatened to have the crane from the yard brought in to hoist her up at the end of each session. He made her laugh and released her, if only for a short while, from the weary business of being pregnant.

Hell started when she went home after their meetings.

She was sleeping fitfully now, her nights broken by trying to find a comfortable position in bed and frequent trips to the bathroom. The loneliness she had felt before deepened as she lay awake in the darkest hours. She spent too much time thinking about what it would be like to have Patrick beside her.

One Thursday afternoon, she sat in the shop stringing a green and black glass pendant on a silver chain. Patrick was on her mind, as usual. She knew she needed to talk to him about the future, about his role in her and the baby’s life, but she couldn’t bring herself to broach the subject. She hadn’t even told him about breaking up with Steve. He never asked about the other man, or what her plans were. In fact, she had no idea
what
Patrick thought about the future. When she was being honest, Kate admitted that she was afraid to ask.

Though she knew it was a coward’s ploy, Kate opted to focus on the baby’s arrival and let everything else ride. She was tired and lethargic; all she could think about was the day the baby would arrive. Everything else could wait. She was holding the pendant up to the light, letting the refraction of light hypnotize her, when the bell over the shop door rang. She lifted her head and smiled automatically, putting on her best face for a potential customer. But it was Patrick who stepped through the door, closing it behind him with a bang.

“Hey, Katie. How are you?”

“Hi. I didn’t expect to see you today.”

He wove his way through the tables of glass and pottery, charmingly displayed to tempt any customers who wandered through. Sturdy plates and bowls stood side by side with delicate glasses in lustrous blue, green and amber. Fanciful clay animals and figurines frolicked at the bases of dramatic vases and fluted bowls in deep emerald and jade. He kept his eyes on her, not sparing a glance for any of it.

Kate felt the feminine thrill of being the focus of this handsome man. Strange and wonderful how Patrick could still make her feel like a woman when, these days, she felt like a hippopotamus.

“Are you here alone?” he asked.

“Shelly’s due back at one.” Kate looked at her watch: twelve-fifty. “Why?”

“I want you to come look at something with me.” Patrick leaned against the counter and ran his eyes over her. He had on a dark blue polar-fleece jacket that gave his gray eyes a touch of color. “You look tired.”

“I am. I’m tired of being pregnant.” Kate bit her lip. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snap.”

Patrick grinned. “Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

“Several times.”

“The kid’s not sleeping either, huh?”

Kate sighed. “Not too well. I hope she does better when she’s out of there.” She laughed a little and rested a hand on her belly. “Maybe she’s just getting me ready for all those middle-of-the-night feedings.”

“Your own built-in, personal trainer.”

They chuckled together at the thought. “What do you want to show me?” she asked.

“Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” Patrick held up a hand to stop her before she could speak. “I promise that it’s on dry land. I think you’ll like it.”

Shelly breezed through the door at that moment with a smile. “Brrr! It definitely feels like fall out there today. Hey, Patrick.”

“Can you manage this place by yourself for a while?” he asked, before Kate could speak.

“Sure, I usually do. Get Kate out of here. She needs some new scenery.”

“Thanks for planning my afternoon for me,” Kate said with a cool glance at them both.

Neither appeared the least bothered by her irritation as they grinned at her.

“Get your jacket,” Patrick said.

Kate considered arguing, but she decided Shelly was right. She had been staying very close to home over the past weeks. Class with Patrick was just about the only time she got away. An afternoon outing might provide some release from her low spirits. She retreated to the small office behind the counter for her purse. She took a moment to run a comb through her hair and straighten her blouse. Pulling a tube of pink lipstick out of her purse, she paused before applying it.

In the mirror, she could see that she did look tired. Lipstick wasn’t going to cover the fact that she looked fat, either. She dashed on a swath anyway. Taking down a large wool shawl from a hook behind the door, she went out and rejoined Patrick.

“Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand as soon as he saw her.

“Since I don’t know where I’m going, I don’t know when I’ll be back,” she told Shelly.

The other woman giggled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll lock up when I leave.”

Patrick led Kate to his truck and boosted her inside. He drove them to the south of town along the edge of the Bay. Instead of asking again where they were headed, Kate just enjoyed the ride. The first trees were turning color, getting ready for their final burst of glory in a month or so. Ten minutes later, Patrick pulled up in front of a two-story brick house on a quiet street. He got out and came around the truck to help Kate, then took her hand to lead her up the front walk.

The yard was tidy. Burgundy and bright gold chrysanthemums were blooming in the flower beds on either side of the covered front porch. The porch itself was delightful, wide and deep, just perfect for a swing or rocking chairs. At the door, Patrick produced a key and unlocked it.

“Whose house is this?” Kate asked.

“Come take a look.” He urged her inside with one hand at her back.

Inside, the house had a traditional layout. The living room was to the left of the front door, the dining room on the right, with a door into what must be a kitchen in the far corner. It was completely empty of furniture. Kate walked a few steps across the oak floor, into the living room and looked around. High ceilings and windows across the front made the room light and spacious. A fireplace was cut into the far wall, with built-in bookcases on either side.

“Nice. Is it for sale?” she asked, turning to look at him.

He stood in the doorway, his hands in his jacket pockets. “Not anymore. I bought it.”

Kate’s eyes widened. She must have heard wrong. “But you live on a boat.”

“Not anymore,” he repeated, his mouth turned up slightly at one corner. “I sold it the day before yesterday.”

“What?” The word was just a whisper.

“The boat was fine, when there was just me to think about. Now I need more room.” He looked down at his shoes, then back at her. His face—his eyes—were un-readable. “There’s a room upstairs that would be perfect for a nursery. Do you want to take a look?” He made a vague gesture toward the stairs, but didn’t take his gaze off her.

Kate swallowed hard. “Patrick, I—”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he said, interrupting her. “I’m just letting you know that I can change. That I
want
to. Sailing has been my life, but it doesn’t have to be the
only
thing in my life.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she closed them tightly. She felt emotionally blindsided and completely befuddled. When she opened her eyes, Patrick had moved closer. He held out a hand.

“Come look at the rest of it, Katie. I want to know what you think.”

Searching his face, she only saw calm assurance. “I don’t know what this means, Patrick.” The words were almost a plea.

He stroked her cheek. “It’s only a tour of my new house.” He enfolded her hand in his with a strong, steady grip. “You can tell me what furniture to buy. Otherwise I’ll just fill it up with sails and boat gear.” With a tug, he had her following him across the floor to the stairs. “There’s even a view of the Bay, if you stand on the toilet seat.”

“S
EE
, I
TOLD YOU
she’d love it,” Evan said.

“I wouldn’t say that. She was pretty quiet the whole time we were there.”

“Yeah, but she
will
love it. It was a good idea.” Evan leaned back against the table saw in Ian’s workshop. His immaculately tailored, charcoal suit jacket became dotted with sawdust. “Buying a house was a stroke of genius. I’m surprised you came up with it on your own.”

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Ian asked. He ran a hand plane lightly over a piece of teak clamped in a vise. Paper-thin shavings of wood littered the edge of the table and the floor. “If you’re not careful, somebody might mistake you for a grown-up.”

“Screw you both,” Patrick said with a smile. He played with a scrap of wood, turning it over and over in his hands. Thinking about the afternoon with Kate, he frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe I put too much pressure on her.”

“Why would she feel pressured?” Evan asked, his tone dry and one blond eyebrow arched.

Ian chuckled, keeping his eyes on his work. “The guy she thinks is a boat bum just sold his boat and bought a house. With a nursery.” He shook his head. “Nope, no pressure at all.”

Evan laughed and Patrick tossed the block of wood at him. His phone rang before he could make any rude remarks. He flipped it open and saw the name and number. “Chris! How’s it going, man?”

“Not so great.” Chris paused. “There’s no good way to tell you this, so I’m just gonna say it. Greg got swept off
Vertex
, Patrick. He’s dead.”

“What?” Patrick’s delight disappeared in an instant. “When?”

“Day before yesterday.”

Patrick closed his eyes, as if blocking out sight would shut out reality. Pressing a thumb and forefinger into his eyes, he held back the stinging tears that threatened. “How’d it happen?”

“A squall popped up. They got hit hard with winds and waves and Greg went over the stern. I don’t know why he wasn’t clipped in. The tactician saw him fall, but he was gone before anyone could grab him.” Chris’s voice choked to a halt. He cleared his throat. “They recovered his body. They think he was probably dead when he hit the water. He must have struck his head on something.”

“Oh, my God.” Patrick shivered to think of it.

“We need you, man,” Chris said, bringing Patrick’s attention back to the phone call. “You have to come skipper the boat.”

“Whoa, Chris. I’m going to have to think about that.”

“Think fast, then. I want you here yesterday.” Chris sighed. “Everybody’s slayed over this, Patrick. It’s like we’re all wandering around in a fog or something. Total chaos, too. Greg held us all together, y’know? Without him…” Chris trailed off and there was a silence on the phone. “We
need
you, man. You’re the only one who can take over for him.”