Baby On The Way (14 page)

He shifted restlessly in his seat. He’d never told Libby about that little trick.and he should have. She might need to try it sometime when the baby refused to be soothed.

Like the baby across the aisle. The poor little thing was really gearing up now. No one else seemed to be bothered. The chubby man next to him was snoring, and up ahead a blond woman with the pinched-face look of a professional model didn’t even look up from her fashion magazine.

But the baby’s pitiful wailing made Del long to do something. He leaned over to offer his help. The young mother glanced up at him with so much suspicion in her tired eyes that he changed his mind. He couldn’t blame her for being wary. He was a stranger. He wouldn’t want Libby to give Nikki to someone she didn’t know or trust, either.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he found himself explaining. “I just left my own newborn. Nikki hasn’t quite figured out an appropriate schedule yet, either.”

The woman gently bounced the baby against her shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “You must miss her.”

“I do,” Del admitted, realizing the truth of the statement. He’d only been away for an hour and he already missed her like crazy. Missed both of them.

The woman sighed. “I bet your wife is lonely for you, too.”

Del thought of the dark house, the empty driveway, the tearful goodbye that had never happened. “Actually, I think they’re getting along just fine without me.”

She smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t count on it. It’s so hard to take care of a baby all alone. It’s easier when you’re with someone who cares about you.” She bit her lip, as if conscious of revealing too much to a casual stranger, before leaning back against the headrest, shutting her eyes with another sigh.

The baby finally stopped crying. Del should have felt better, but instead a yawning emptiness grew in his stomach. Because all at once, he understood what Dorrie Jean had been trying to tell him. Financially and physically, Libby could raise Nikki on her own.
That wasn’t what she wanted from him. As Dorrie Jean and the stranger across the aisle had implied, what Libby needed was someone to be there through the emotional ups and downs of everyday life. Someone to help her make the little and big decisions that would affect their child. Someone who loved them both with all his heart. Someone like him.

He grimaced. Dorrie Jean had been right about something else. He
was
spoiled. Because of his parents’ solid marriage, he’d always known love existed, that it was waiting out there for him to claim.when
he
was ready. In
his
time. When it didn’t interfere with his goals and ambitions.

So when he’d met Libby and fallen in love with her in three short days, he’d refused to admit what had happened. It would upset all his plans, his ambitions. It wasn’t convenient right now. So he’d entered into an affair with her, telling himself it was only a temporary arrangement—when he’d known deep inside that his feelings for her hadn’t been temporary at all.

But much worse than his self-deception was that he’d taken advantage of Libby. She hadn’t had the security of a normal background with two loving parents. That had been evident by her interest in the stories he’d shared about his family, the hunger in her face as she’d listened. But he’d wooed and seduced her, letting the yearning in her heart for a family overcome her skittishness at his touch, coaxing her into accepting him, knowing that the act of making love would bind her to him more surely—and with less trouble on his part—than a ring ever would.

Oh, it sounded good—to say how could he have known she was a virgin when she hadn’t told him so—but from her tiny gasp, the surprise in her eyes the
first time he’d touched her intimately, he’d known that if she wasn’t a virgin, she was inexperienced enough that it made no difference.

So he hadn’t been surprised to feel the small barrier of her innocence—in fact, the realization as he’d entered her tight, clinging body had filled him with a fierce, primitive possessiveness. She was his and his alone.

But selfishly, he hadn’t wanted to admit that he also belonged to her. He’d grown used to his freedom, his hedonistic existence where the only relationship he had was the nondemanding one with his sister, which didn’t restrict him in any way. He’d grown used to only considering himself.

So he’d left, making sure before he’d done so that Libby was bound to the relationship. He’d told her he’d be back, making the arrogant assumption that since they were consenting adults, a once-or-twice-ayear love affair would suit them both. But deep inside he’d known, when she hadn’t called, that it didn’t suit her—that it never would.

Across the way, the baby started whimpering. The man next to him continued to snore. Del looked past him to gaze out the window, mentally counting the miles and miles of vast ocean that lay between him and his family.

You picked a fine time, Delaney,
he told himself,
to realize what a pigheaded fool you’ve been.

How was it, Libby wondered the next morning, that a house could be full of people, yet feel so empty?

With Nikki nestled on her shoulder, Libby smiled and talked with Mrs. Peyton and Dorrie Jean, both of
whom had stopped by for a visit. Yet she constantly found herself listening for someone who wasn’t there.

Which was stupid of her. What had she expected? That he would change his mind and stay home, after all? Of course he wouldn’t.

Still when the front door opened unexpectedly in the middle of Mrs. P.’s latest saga about her rheumatism, Libby’s heart leapt with hope—only to fall again as Christine came in.

Libby forced a smile at her friend.

Christine smiled back. “I picked up all the groceries you’ll need—enough to last at least a week or two, Libby.” Her smile faded and a small frown puckered her brow. “I’m sorry I have to leave so soon again. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Of course, I will. I just had a baby—that doesn’t make me an invalid. Nikki and I will do just fine,” Libby said.

“Don’t you worry,” Mrs. Peyton added, “I’ll stop by daily in case Libby needs anything.”

“Me, too,” said Dorrie Jean quietly.

Libby smiled at them. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. They were so sweet. And what an idiot she was to be thinking that she only wanted Del.

The tears that had been threatening since she heard his truck leave yesterday at dawn burned behind her eyes, but Libby fiercely refused to let them fall.
You survived the last time he left,
she reminded herself,
and you’ll do so again.
She was simply having a case of the baby blues. And expecting Del to walk in the door at any moment certainly wasn’t helping.

Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stay here—where everything constantly reminded her of him. Maybe she should move somewhere else.

Nikki, as if sensing her mother’s distress, wriggled restlessly and uttered a short wail. Mrs. Peyton pounced. “She can’t be hungry again!” the older woman exclaimed.

“I don’t think so,” Libby said. She certainly hoped not. Her nipples were so sore. Her daughter might be tiny, but she nursed like a starving piglet. “She just ate half an hour ago.”

“She’s gassy,” Mrs. P. decided. “I can tell the signs. Why don’t you give her to me, Libby? I’ll burp her again for you.”

A bit reluctantly, Libby handed the baby over.

The older woman cooed in Nikki’s face. The baby stopped crying. “She likes me!” Mrs. P. announced triumphantly. “I told you I’m good with babies. She’s stopped fussing.”

“She’s probably startled at hearing a strange voice,” Christine suggested, bringing in a plate of cookies.

Mrs. Peyton glared at her. “Nonsense. She probably thinks that I’m her grandmother.” She lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted her soothingly on the back, asking, “What did your mother say about her, Libby?”

“I haven’t told her yet,” Libby admitted without thinking.

She immediately wished she hadn’t. Mrs. Peyton looked aghast. “Libby! A girl’s mother should be the first to know.”

No, the father should, Libby thought, remembering the wonder on Del’s face when he’d first seen his daughter.

“You’d better tell her right away,” Mrs. P. declared. “Go on and call her now, if you like. I’ll take
care of Nikki,” she added in a blatant attempt to hold the baby awhile longer.

Libby didn’t argue. Suddenly she wanted to call her mother. Perhaps she should see about going home.

She excused herself and went into the study. Del’s computer was there. She turned her back to the blank screen as she dialed her mother’s number.

For once she didn’t have to wait the required fifteen minutes. Liz came to the phone immediately. “It’s about time you called,” she said. “I’ve been waiting to hear from you. It wasn’t until I’d gotten off the line the last time that I realized I’d forgotten to get your number at that godforsaken place.”

“I’ll give it to you in a minute,” Libby promised. She twisted the cord around her finger. “But what I really called to tell you is that I had the baby.”

The silence at the other end of the line stretched for a full ten seconds. “I’m speechless,” Liz finally declared. “That has to have been the shortest pregnancy on record. I get a call to tell me you’re pregnant and a few weeks later, you’ve had the baby.”

“I was already almost full-term,” Libby said, stating the obvious.

“Are you all right?” Liz’s voice held a familiar peevish note. Obviously she didn’t appreciate her daughter’s tardy revelations.

“I’m fine—and so is the baby. It’s a girl. We—I named her Nicole, after Dad, and Elizabeth, after you.”

“Why, Libby, that’s so sweet.” Genuine pleasure rang in her mother’s voice. Then she added more prosaically, “Of course, Elizabeth Nicole might be even better…”

A reluctant smile curved Libby’s lips. Trust Liz to
think of something like that. “I think two women with the first name of Elizabeth are enough for one family,” she said gently.

Liz sighed. “Well, it’s your decision—and the father’s, I suppose. Is he still around?”

Libby gripped the phone a little tighter, the unexpected question causing a tightness in her throat. “No,” she said huskily.

Another silence. “Darling, I’m so sorry. So I guess he didn’t propose.”

“Oh, he proposed. I said no.”

“But why?”

“Because he wasn’t going to stay around. His job involves traveling about ten months a year.”

“Oh, darling, that’s so sad. He should have told you.”

Libby frowned, fiddling with the phone cord. “Actually, he did tell me about it.”

“After you became involved.”

Libby shifted uneasily. “Well, no. He told me before.”

“Oh.” If for a moment Liz sounded nonplussed, she recovered quickly. “Well, he should have given up his job,” she declared stoutly. “He should have stayed with you and the baby. Men can be so selfish.”

She then launched into a recital of the events in her own life. Libby barely listened, shifting uneasily again. She’d thought the same thing about Del. Yet, somehow it sounded different when Liz said it. She interrupted her mother’s monologue on her newest movie role. “He’s not really selfish, Mother,” she felt compelled to explain. “He stayed as long as he could. He was here for the birth, in fact. And he’s providing for us financially.”

But Liz had lost interest in the unknown father. “That’s the least he should do. Anyway,” she added briskly, “when are you coming home? I can’t wait to see my namesake.”

She’d planned to go home when she’d picked up the phone—but now Libby wasn’t sure that was the answer. “I don’t know,” she said hesitantly. “Nikki’s a little young to be traveling.”

“Just let me know when you decide. And don’t take too long, darling. I…I miss you.”

Libby hung up the phone, confused emotions roiling inside her. She heard a noise at the door and glanced up. Dorrie Jean was standing there, holding a fussing Nikki in her arms. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Dorrie said apologetically, “but I thought I’d better take Nikki from Mom. She’s getting irritable with hunger.”

“But she just ate less than an hour ago!” Libby said, taking her baby.

Dorrie looked surprised. “Oh, I didn’t mean Nikki—Mother’s the one who’s ready for lunch.”

Both women looked at each other a moment, then Dorrie Jean smiled—a surprisingly rueful grin. “Mothers can be such a pain.”

“You’re so right,” Libby agreed wryly, thinking of Liz.

“But we still love them,” Dorrie added. “After all, nobody’s perfect.” With a small pat on Nikki’s leg, she left the room.

Libby remained in the study, rocking her baby in her arms. Dorrie was right—Liz could be a pain. Their relationship wasn’t the closest, nor did they often agree. She often became annoyed or hurt by Liz’s theatrics, and the make-believe world her mother perpetuated frustrated her no end. But still, when all was
said and done, she loved her mother, and knew that in her own way Liz loved her, too.

And maybe Liz wasn’t the only Sinclair who expected to have everything her way—who expected everyone to be perfect. Libby shifted uneasily, thinking about their conversation. Had she really expected Del to give up his job, just because she wanted him to? She squirmed a little. He loved his work. Besides, Del didn’t have the luxury of a mother to run home to. He’d been taking care of himself-and for a while his mother and Christine—since he was sixteen years old.

It wasn’t his fault that Libby hadn’t listened to him. As she’d just admitted to her mother, he’d been honest with her all along. She simply hadn’t been honest with herself.

Libby winced. She’d always blamed her mother for living in an illusionary world, but hadn’t she been doing the same thing? Constantly dreaming about a perfect place—with perfect people—to live in, instead of being thankful for the mother and home she had? When all was said and done, Lone Oak wasn’t perfect. It was just a town—with good points and bad pointsnot some magical place where nothing ever went wrong. Her idea of the town had been no more real than her mother’s idea of her career.

So maybe it was time to discover what
was
real in her life.

Libby frowned. Rocking the baby gently, she pondered the problem and suddenly the realization hit her. Love—that’s what was real. The answer was so simple—and yet so complex. As simple as her overwhelming, protective love for the baby in her arms, and as complex as her love for the baby’s father, with
all the hopes, disappointments, sorrows and joys the emotion brought.