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Authors: Lois Richer

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BOOK: Baby on the Way
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“And these other ‘friends’ aren’t going to wear you out? But Peter will.” He raised one eyebrow. “Clear as mud, Lyn.”

“It’s just a little open house. People do that, you know.” She ignored the knowing look in his eyes.

“Hmm. Isn’t it odd that you’ve got them all paired off?” When she wouldn’t meet his gaze, he sighed loudly. “All right. What do you want me to do?”

“Play host.”

“I don’t know Garrett or Clayton that well, Lyn. And your roommates I see only occasionally.” He tilted his head to one side, his glasses drooping to the end of his nose and he peered over them. “I get it. You’re matchmaking, right?”

“Not really.” She shrugged when one arrogant eyebrow arched even higher. “I’m not! I just want them to get together and talk. Then maybe they can see how much the other has changed, that this isn’t high school. Maybe they can forget the mistakes of the past.”

“Let bygones be bygones, start afresh.” He groaned, putting his cup on the table with a thud. “I know I’m going to regret this.”

“No, you’re not. It’s just a social evening, Jordan. Nothing to get all excited about.” She averted her head from his too perceptive stare. “I’ll put on some music, we’ll talk, it’ll be great.”

“Caitlin, these people have histories. I don’t think they can just take up where they left off and develop a lifelong love, or they would have done it already.”
He rose, walked around the table and sank down onto his haunches in front of her, one hand clasping hers.

“We’ve changed, all of us. You and I included. Time and distance does that to people. Affections change, too.”

She stared down at him, wondering at the stain of red on his cheekbones. Did that mean he didn’t care for her at all? Of course, he never had, had he? It had been her schoolgirl crush, all those years ago. Jordan had escaped as quickly as he could by dumping her on Michael.

Caitlin came back to the present with a jerk when Jordan, now flushed and discomfited, got up rather quickly and flopped back into his chair.

“What I’m trying to say is that the love they once felt, or that you think they felt, might be gone forever.”

“It hasn’t.” She refused to believe that, not after talking to Beth and Maryann. There was something there, some spark that just needed a little nurturing. They deserved to find happiness.

“Okay. Nobody can say I didn’t try.” He raked a hand through his hair, mussing it worse than usual. “But you’re not to go to a bunch of fuss. I’ll get Mom to make some punch and I’ll buy some chips and stuff.”

“No.” Caitlin swallowed down her dismay, trying not to let him see that she didn’t want Eliza involved in such delicate matters of the heart. “I’ll buy some of those frozen hors d’oeuvres or something so there’s
not a lot of work. I want to make my housewarming an occasion to remember.”

“I’m pretty sure it will be that.” His forehead pleated. “But fair warning. You may not want to remember it when those four see each other here.” He shook his head. “You may wish you’d left them alone to get on with their lives.”

“I won’t.”

Jordan knew she was up to something. Caitlin could see it in his face. Too bad. She was going to do this, with or without him. It would just be a little simpler if she had him there. It would be nice to have him there to lean on.

“Thank you, Jordan,” she murmured. “I appreciate your help. With everything.”

“Don’t be silly.” His voice was brusque with gruff courtesy. “I haven’t done anything. Yet. And you may regret asking me to help out, you know.” He held up a hand before she could get the words out. “I know. Don’t tell my mother.” He sighed heavily. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Jordan. You’re a peach!” She grinned at him, thrilled that he didn’t even attempt to argue.

“A peach? First my own family tells me I’m fat, and now you call me a peach.” He shook his head in disgust. “Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

Caitlin giggled. “No, really. I mean it. I appreciate this.”

His eyes narrowed. “Good grief, Lyn, I’m not going to have to dance with him. Am I?”

She giggled, the very idea conjuring up a myriad
of hilarious scenes in her head. “I don’t think so. I wasn’t planning on including dancing.”

“Good. Those big boots of his could be mighty uncomfortable on my delicate toes.”

She felt his questioning glance study her more closely, searching for an answer to a question he didn’t ask.

“Take it easy tomorrow. I’ll come round after church and see if you need anything.” He paused, his face tight with tension, as if something was bothering him.

“Really, Jordan,” Caitlin protested, hoping her words would deter him from asking yet again. “That isn’t necessary. I’ll be fine. I just need a good night’s sleep.”

“I don’t suppose you’d consider coming with me? Sing some hymns, hear the message, that sort of thing?” His voice was softly pleading.

She saw the glint of gold flash in those dark eyes as he studied her. Then he bent his head, one curling lock of hair falling over his brow.

“Right,” was all he said, but Caitlin knew he got the point. She wasn’t going to church tomorrow or anytime soon. She knew that Jordan would insist on coming over after, though.

“I’ll see you in the morning then.” He got up from the sofa and snatched his coat from the chair where he’d thrown it. “Try to get some rest, okay?”

She nodded. “I will. Thanks.”

“Stop thanking me,” he grumbled, preceding her
to the door. “I’ll start to wonder if there’s something else wrong with me.”

“There is.” She giggled. “But we’ll save that for some other time, when you’re feeling tougher.”

He shook his head, rolling his eyes to the ceiling. Then, before she realized what was happening, Jordan leaned down and brushed her cheek with his lips.

“Good night, Lyn.”

“Good night, Jordan.” She watched him drive away before she closed the door and wandered back inside her cozy apartment.

In a way she was relieved he kept dropping in. It was so nice to have Jordan around, taking care of her, managing some of the things she was just plain too tired to deal with. Besides, his company was restful and interesting at the same time.

Although it would never do to admit to it.

Neither would it do to question too closely her pleasure in having him around. Certain things were best not probed too deeply.

Especially the rush of pleasure she’d felt when he’d kissed her, innocent though the embrace was. Strangely enough, she wished he’d held her.

Why, when she was demanding to stand on her own, did she feel bereft whenever Jordan Andrews left her home?

Chapter Seven

“P
regnancy and housecleaning do not go together.” Caitlin surveyed the newly acquired gleam of her bathroom with a grimace. “But Junior, you’ve got to admit, this place is spotless.”

Her first week of maternity leave and she was cleaning the bathroom. It hadn’t been easy. The bathtub looked fairly routine, but at this stage in the maternal journey nothing was simple anymore. The sheer width of her body made cleaning in the crevices an arduous task at best, but she finished anyway. For some reason, a clean bathroom seemed important today.

As she rinsed off her rubber gloves and stored them in the caddy under the sink, one hand slipped round her hips to rub a tender spot. It wasn’t a new ache. It had been paining her for days. Deliberately Caitlin turned away from her reflection in the full-length mirror, refusing to acknowledge it or her sore back.

“I’m fine, this is normal. I’m perfectly healthy and nothing is going to go wrong. Right, Junior?” She patted her stomach with a smile and got a swift kick of reassurance. “Right.”

She wandered down the hall to glance once more at the baby’s room. It stood waiting in the lateafternoon shadows, ready to welcome its new inhabitant. In the corner, the dresser was stuffed with tiny clothes Jordan’s mother had either made or purchased over the past week. Eliza sent the various items with Jordan on his daily visit to boss her around.

She bent down to check the mural, then straightened in relief. No, there wasn’t a snake there. Yet. She wondered how long it would be before he tried to sneak in that, or the boat Jordan continually insisted on discussing.

While Caitlin had her doubts about the durability of tiny crocheted sleepers or paper-thin booties, she couldn’t bring herself to say anything that would dampen the joy Eliza obviously found in getting these things for her grandchild. And Caitlin appreciated the gestures of love Michael’s mother had made toward her.

Her eyes roved appreciatively across the mural once more. Jordan had done a very good job. It was a lovely room to welcome a new baby, even without the extras he wanted to add.

The doorbell rang and Caitlin walked to the top of the stairs. “Come in,” she called, refusing to traverse the length of those steps again today.

“Caitlin, honey, it’s me,” Eliza Andrews called.
After a moment she caught sight of her daughter-in-law. “I brought something for the baby’s room. I hope you’re feeling okay.” Her voice dropped in concern. “I’m not bothering you?”

Caitlin felt a hint of frustration. Everyone treated her with kid gloves these days. As if she’d break.

“Come on up,” she called. “I’m on strike. I refuse to navigate those stairs again just now.”

Eliza joined her, thrusting a flat square box into her hands. “This is for you and the baby, Caitlin.”

“Thank you, Eliza. You’re going to have to quit this, you know.” Eliza’s wistful smile aroused Caitlin’s curiosity.

“This is one thing I had to bring.”

“Come and see the nursery,” Caitlin invited, moving down the hall. Although she had contributed a number of items to the baby’s room, Eliza hadn’t yet been in it and suddenly Caitlin had an urge to show off her and Jordan’s handiwork.

She left Eliza to look around while she sank into the rocking chair and unwrapped the box. Eliza’s gift was the finishing touch to an already perfect nursery. Nestled inside the foil package was a delicately embroidered ivory shawl. Caitlin shook it out carefully, then spread it across the rungs of the crib, ready to welcome its new owner.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, trailing one finger over the intricate design.

“It was Michael’s,” Eliza told her, smiling softly in remembrance. “His grandmother made it for him and when he was through with it, I tucked it away. I
thought he might use it himself some day. For his own child.”

“It’s perfect Thank you, Eliza. The baby will love it.” Caitlin patted her soft hand.

“It’s not that I’m trying to keep Michael alive or anything, Caitlin,” the older woman apologized, her eyes solemn. “I know he’s in heaven and happy. That’s the one thing that makes his death bearable. But I thought someday the baby might want some history of his father’s, some link with the past. If you don’t think it’s a good idea, I’ll understand. I know you have to get on with your life.”

“I am getting on with life. And this is a wonderful idea! Thank you for thinking of it. To me, Michael will always be alive in here.” Caitlin patted her heart. Her voice was full of tears and before long they were weeping all over each other. They didn’t even hear Jordan arrive.

“What’s all the bawling for?” he demanded, relief in his eyes at the sight of his mother cradling Caitlin’s dark head. “I thought having a baby is supposed to be a happy occasion. You two look like you’re in serious pain.”

Eliza met Caitlin’s raised eyebrows with a grin. “Son,” she told Jordan affectionately, patting his broad shoulder, “women do not
bawl.
And these were tears of joy. I sincerely hope you’re around when Caitlin goes into labor. Then perhaps you’ll understand that children bring both joy and pain.”

Her blue eyes twinkled merrily, winking at Caitlin
before they returned to her big, boisterous son. “In fact, some children bring more of one than the other.”

Caitlin giggled at the frown that crossed Jordan’s usually smiling face.

“Mother, I hope you aren’t insinuating that I have ever been anything but the wonderful, loving, caring, obedient son you have always told me I am.”

“Obedient, he says. As if he would ever listen to his parents?” Eliza’s snort was an audible guffaw in the quiet house. Her tears vanished as she looked to Caitlin for support.

Jordan raised his eyebrows in shock. “As if I would ever go against your wishes. Mother, please!”

“Enough, you two.” Caitlin held up a hand. “You’ll set a bad example for my baby. He’s going to be the sweetest, most amenable child there ever was. Just like his mother.”

Jordan coughed. “And if that isn’t a bit of make-believe, I don’t know what is.” He offered a hand up to Caitlin. “Come on, little mama. We’re going out for your walk. Then supper.”

Caitlin groaned, her green eyes beseeching Eliza to support her. “It’s too icy outside, Jordan. And too cold. I just want to stay home tonight. Take your mother out, for a change. She’d enjoy it.”

But Eliza shook her head in an emphatic “no.” “Thanks anyway, Caitlin. I’ll go home to Stan.” She picked up her coat and slipped it on then led the way to the outside door, stopping only long enough to slip on her snow boots.

Caitlin held open the door. “Thank you for the
shawl, Eliza. I will treasure it. Be careful on the roads,” she added, noticing the icy slickness of the driveway. She closed the door quickly behind her mother-in-law, shivering at the blast of cold air.

“I am not going out in that, Jordan. And I don’t care what you say,” she informed him, swishing around him and into the kitchen.

The cupboards weren’t quite bare, but it was close. Caitlin stared at the lonely can of tomato soup and shrugged. It would do. At least it was better than chancing her footing on all that ice.

“We can have soup and toast,” she told him firmly as he entered the kitchen. “That’s nutritious and filling.”

“It’s not tomato soup is it?” he asked warily, glancing around her shoulder to peer at the label. “I knew it.” His voice was full of defeat.

“What’s wrong with tomato soup?” she demanded, whirling around to study him.

“Nothing,” he muttered.

“It’s just that I ate it almost every day for a solid year when I was going to college,” he told her. “I had to save my money to take this girl out, so I lived on soup. I got a great deal on a case of tomato.”

He ignored her snicker.

“I made a vow that when I graduated and started work, I would never eat the stuff again unless there was nothing else.” He yanked open a cupboard door and stared at the empty shelf.

“Well, it looks like that time has arrived!” Caitlin
grinned. “But that’s okay. I love tomato soup. You can have toast.”

“Caitlin!” Jordan let out an exasperated sigh. “How can you not have any groceries in the house? You’re supposed to be eating healthfully and there’s nothing in this fridge but a dried-up bit of lettuce.”

“If you recall,” she said matter-of-factly, stirring the thickening soup steadily, “these past weeks you have taken me out almost every single night for dinner. I hardly need groceries.”

“Ridiculous,” he replied, slamming the door closed and snatching up his heavy leather jacket from its usual position on her easy chair.

“Where are you going?” She pointed to the toaster. “Your supper is almost ready.”

“That isn’t a meal,” he told her. “That’s a bedtime snack. I’m going shopping and if you’re nice, I’ll bring some goodies back.” His eyes glinted behind his glasses. “If there was a snowstorm, you’d starve to death here. Honestly woman, how can you be so careless of yourself?”

His chastising tone hurt. Caitlin felt a wave of misery close over her and seconds later heard herself burst into tears which made her even more disconsolate.

“I am not careless,” she said. “I simply hate lugging those heavy bags back from the store and since I can’t drive, I have to use the bus.”

“I’m sorry, Lyn,” he said at last, using his handkerchief to wipe the tears off her cheeks. His voice was soft and full of concern. “I never even thought
of that or I would have taken you there myself. Just stop crying now, okay?”

“I am
not
c-c-crying,” she blubbered, his gentleness affecting her more than his anger had. “I never cry!”

Jordan tugged her into his arms and held her as she sobbed miserably on his shoulder.

“Of course you’re not,” he murmured, a wry grin tipping his lips. “Any fool can see that. You merely have a leak in your eyes that allows moisture to fall out in huge droplets that roll down your cheeks and soak my shirt. Obviously not crying! How stupid of me.”

She pushed out of his arms, embarrassed by the whole thing. Turning her back to him, Caitlin filled the kettle and put it on to heat, striving for a tiny measure of control when her nerves screamed frustration.

“Caitlin?” He turned her around and slid one finger under her chin, tipping her tearstained face up toward his. “Just make a list and I’ll pick up whatever you need, okay?”

“I don’t need someone to look after me,” she bristled angrily. “I’m not a child that needs a keeper.”

She heard the sigh. Anyone would have. It was loud and forbearing as if there were thousands of things he
could
have said, and yet nothing he was willing to verbalize.

Guilt, frustration and tiredness welled up inside, each one vying for supremacy. She was fed up with
figuring out which one was worse. All she wanted to do was give in to this need to cry.

Why couldn’t everyone just leave her alone? She’d get through this. Somehow. In her own way.

“Just for right now, just tonight, let me be my brother’s keeper, okay?” His gentle fingers turned her to face him, his golden eyes beseeching her. “Actually, that should be my sister-in-law’s keeper.

“I promise, it will just be tonight.” That tender note in his voice was her undoing.

Caitlin couldn’t ignore him. “This one time you can help me out,” she agreed finally. “Is it a deal?”

“Scout’s honor.” He held up one hand with two fingers pointing upward. “I promise I will never help you again. Not even if you beg me on bended knee. Now will you give me that list?”

“I could go myself,” she told him, frowning. “I’m kind of picky about what fruit and vegetables I eat.”

“Do you really want to go parading around a supermarket, pushing past people, standing in line and lugging everything across an icy parking lot to the car? I’m not going to take over your life, Caitlin. I’m just trying to help out.”

“You have already
helped
me,” she told him seriously. “It’s not that I’m ungrateful Jordan. It’s just that I have to learn to depend on myself. I have to manage on my own. I can’t expect people to come running every time the Widow Andrews needs something.” She peered up at him, trying to make him understand.

“I’m a grown woman, Jordan. I have to be able to
handle things as they come up. I have to be sure that I can manage it all.” She smiled tiredly. “I know you think I’m obsessing about Michael, but I’m not. I understand that we’re all human, that death is a part of life. That simply means you have to be strong enough to take it. Right now there is only me for my baby. He’s depending on me and I have to learn to be self-reliant.”

She waited, watching his eyes darken and narrow as he absorbed what she’d said. When he spoke his voice seemed leashed, held back.

“Yes, Lyn, people die. But can’t you understand that while they’re here, a lot of them just want to
do
what they can to make your life a little easier? Can’t you see that it hurts us to see you struggling on your own when it’s so easy for us to lend a hand?”

His face was serious, carved in lines of concern as he stared down at her. “We’re not asking for anything from you, Caitlin. My parents don’t expect anything from you. They just want to be there because you’re their daughter-in-law and they love you. My sisters just want their friend back in their lives.”

Caitlin squinted up at him through the mist of tears that seemed to constantly block her vision these days. She remembered how many times in the past week she’d put Robyn and her sisters off, pretending she was too busy to see them, have lunch, talk.

“Can’t you accept just a little bit of that love, Lyn?”

It was a persuasive argument and she felt so alone. Caitlin stared at the table in front of her and admitted
to herself that she did want to be part of their group again. She wanted to rejoin the human race, but on her own conditions.

“It’s just that I have nothing to give them back,” she whispered at last, sinking into a nearby chair.

“I’m empty, Jordan.” She met his softened gaze. “Sometimes I think the last part of me that is capable of love only lives because of this baby.”

He squatted in front of her, placing his hands on either side of her as his velvety soft gaze stared straight into hers. “Then just relax and let us fill the empty space. We’ll do the work.” He smiled softly. “All you have to do is accept it. That’s all we ask.”

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