Man of the Month (Willowdale Romance Novel) (21 page)

It was like being punched in the gut.

Jeanne sucked in a mouthful of cold air and scanned the crowd for Brad again. Was he hurting as much as she was? She tipped up on her toes—no small feat—then spotted him standing between Tommy and their little brother, Mitch, near the podium. It was a moment they needed to share.

She looked at her feet, strained and squished into a pair of ugly boots. Another politician droned on about the safety statistics in this particular dangerous spot, and soon enough the crowd was counting down to midnight.

“Three
 . . .
two
 . . .
one! Happy New Year!”

Horns blared, people cheered, someone yanked off the tarp covering the traffic light, and Jeanne realized she must’ve spilled her drink. Then she realized she didn’t have a drink. With wide eyes she looked at Kate.

“I either peed my pants, or my water just broke.”

Kate looked down at the ground. “Hot damn. Looks like we’ve got a New Year’s baby.”

Jeanne shook her head like she could stop it all from happening. “I’m three weeks early!”

Kate rubbed her arm. “Don’t worry. That’s still considered full term. You’re going to be fine.”

“How do you know?” She was blubbering.

“I used to be a nurse, remember? Women do this every day. Let’s get Tommy to give you and Brad a ride into Whitesville. This is just like Dina and Mitch at their wedding. Guess the Larsen babies don’t like to miss a party.”

Jeanne grabbed Kate’s arm. “No. Don’t get Brad. It’ll be too hard for him. He doesn’t want this baby, and I don’t want him there when it’s born. I’m giving it up anyway.”

Tonya tucked Jeanne’s hair behind her ears. “Now don’t get ahead of yourself. Let’s just get you to the hospital.”

Tonya and Kate helped Jeanne into the back of Kate’s Jeep. They had a straight path to Whitesville, with most folks off the roads celebrating the New Year.

“How fast are those contractions coming, Jeanne?”

“You mean how often
 . . .
” Jeanne sucked in a breath. “. . . how often is a white hot poker jabbing my belly?” Another deep breath.

“I’ve been timing her whimpers,” Tonya said. “About every four minutes.”

Kate drove faster. They made it to Whitesville in thirty minutes instead of the typical forty-five, and Jeanne was rushed right to Labor and Delivery.

The nurse came into the room to fill out the admission papers. She got all the details, and then asked, “And the father’s name? Is he here?”

Jeanne panicked, and another wave of pain swept across her abdomen. She gasped. “Just leave that blank. He’s not involved.”

The nurse finished the paperwork, then Tonya and Kate moved to each side of her bed, holding her hands and offering encouragement. Tonya flicked on the TV.

“Oh, look. It’s a rerun of
Friends
.”

Jeanne moaned. “David Schwimmer’s whining is ruining my focus. Turn it off!”

Tonya’s eyes widened, and she clicked the remote.

“Hang in there,” Kate said.

After giving Jeanne a blessed epidural, the nurse patted Jeanne’s hand and reassured her that the OB doctor on call would be in soon.

But the contractions quickened. And when the nurse checked on Jeanne again in ten minutes, she said the baby’s head was crowning.

“Guess this baby’s coming, doctor or not. It’s time to push.”

“No! I’m not ready.” She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t ready for any of this. She didn’t have the bag she was supposed to have packed with lip balm and extra underwear and her own pillow. She didn’t have a nursery set up at home. And she didn’t have the baby’s father there urging her on. “I can’t do this!”

“You have to do this, hon,” Kate said.

Jeanne shook her head and moaned as another pain wrapped around her belly.

“Hate to tell you this, but you’re not in charge here,” the nurse said. “Let’s count to three and push. That baby wants out. And fast.”

Jeanne pushed and cried. She gripped her friends’ hands and gritted her teeth. She couldn’t imagine how severe the pain would’ve been without an epidural.

“You’re almost there, just a few more good pushes,” the nurse instructed. “Think about seeing that baby in your arms. Push!”

Jeanne closed her eyes and tried to picture holding the baby. But she couldn’t imagine the scene without Brad next to her. That brought on a fresh round of tears. Would this child be a constant reminder of the man she loved but couldn’t have? Her frustration fueled a monster push, and the next thing she knew, a baby was crying, two best friends were crying, and Jeanne was a mama.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” She sniffed.

“It’s a little boy,” the nurse said.

After the nurse wiped off the baby and cut the umbilical cord, she placed the newborn on Jeanne’s chest.

“I labored for twenty-two hours with Lizzy, and you pushed this guy out in twenty minutes,” Kate said. “I’m not talking to you for a week.”

“What are you going to name him?” Tonya asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’m keeping him.”

“Stop talking like that,” Kate said.

The nurse looked at Jeanne. “Do you want me to arrange for someone to discuss adoption scenarios with you? Probably won’t be for a day a two because of the holiday.”

Jeanne kissed the baby’s head and wiped away a tear. “I’ll let you know.”

The nurse left the room, and the three of them said nothing as the little guy whimpered and flailed his arms.

Tonya tickled his leg. “Seeing this beautiful baby here now, you really think you could give him up?”

Jeanne rubbed the tip of her nose along her child’s soft, downy brown hair. “He’s the most lovely thing I’ve ever seen. And he deserves better than what I can give him. I want him to have the family I missed out on. I don’t think I can do this alone.”

“Sure you can,” Tonya said.

Jeanne shook her head. “There are lots of wonderful couples looking to adopt, without all the complications going on with Brad and me.”

“Don’t rush into any decisions,” Kate said. “You’ve got a lot of crazy hormones pumping through you right now. Get some rest, and everything will be clearer in the morning.”

The nurse came back and finished up weighing the baby and cleaning up. “I’m going to take this little darling down to the nursery. You get some sleep now.”

Jeanne looked at her friends. “You guys go home and get some sleep, too. Thanks so much for getting me here. Guess I should let Brad know.” She yawned. “I’ll call him in the morning.”

Kate and Tonya hugged and kissed her and flicked off the lights when they left.

Jeanne stared at the shaft of moonlight beaming through a slit in the curtains, knowing she should be thinking about new starts and this new life she’d just brought into this world. But all she could think about were the things that were missing.

BRAD LAY AWAKE in bed, hurt and disappointed that Jeanne had left the ceremony without him. He should have made sure she was standing with him and his brothers and sucked it up if she cried. He should have promised to wipe away her tears instead of telling her he couldn’t bear seeing them.

He rolled over. Why hadn’t he insisted she take the night off? Someone from Events Extraordinaire could’ve worked with him. They probably would’ve appreciated seeing how their operations worked, if they were going to be buying them out.

He laughed softly. Like Jeanne would’ve agreed to stay home. There was no insisting with Jeanne, and that was part of the reason he loved her. He groaned. Hell yes, he still loved her, even after everything that had happened between them.

His cell rang and he jumped up, glancing at the clock. It was two-thirty in the morning. Fumbling for his phone, he grabbed it off the nightstand.

“Hello?”

“Brad? It’s Tonya. Jeanne’s sleeping now, but she had the baby. Her water broke just after midnight. Kate and I rushed her to the hospital. Everyone’s fine, and you have a beautiful little boy.” She paused. “Well, Jeanne does. I know where you stand on this whole thing. Just thought you should know.”

He sat up and kicked off the covers, the sheets getting caught around his legs. “Why the hell didn’t anyone get me when this happened?”

“Jeanne didn’t think you’d want to be there.”

Finally freeing himself from the blankets, he jumped out of bed and started searching for his clothes. “Someone should’ve told me. I was looking around for her all night, worried about her.” He thought about Jeanne going through this without him, and his stomach dropped. He blew out a breath. “They’re okay?”

“Yes. Please don’t go storming over there and upset her.”

“Of course not. I just wish I’d been included. I’m the father.”

“Not to be a bitch here, Brad, but you haven’t shown any interest in being a father to this child. Not one of us thought you’d want to help bring the baby into this world.”

He deserved that. It was true. “What did she name him?”

“She hasn’t yet. You need to talk to her.”

Tommy was still up, nursing a beer in the kitchen, no doubt trying to chase away his own ghosts of the night. “Where are you off to?”

Headed for the door, Brad smashed a ball cap on his head. “Jeanne had her baby. I’m going to the hospital.”

“Congratulations.”

Brad stopped. “How could you say that? This is the worst thing that could happen to us.”

Tommy shook his head. “This is exactly what you two fools needed to get you together.” He pointed at him. “Just you wait until you hold your baby. You’ll be singing a different song, I promise. A baby is going to make you see everything differently.”

“I don’t know how to be a good father. Dad never taught me that. He wasn’t there for me.”

Tommy set down his beer can and raised his eyebrows. “And that’s what your kid will be saying about you some day, if you don’t change your tune. You know all the things you don’t want to do to a child, right?”

“Hell, yeah.”

“Then that’s a good start. You and Jeanne will figure out how to be good parents. You’re good people. Now go make things right before they end up wrong.”

“Thanks, bro.”

Brad sped to the hospital, ready to use Tommy’s clout as Willowdale’s police chief if he got pulled over for speeding. But no one stopped him, and soon enough he was pulling into the parking lot, heart pounding, hands shaking.

He didn’t get much farther than the security guard at the front desk. “Visiting hours are eleven to eight,” he told Brad.

He braced himself against the counter. “I know. But my
 . . .
friend just had a baby.”

“You’ll have to come back during visiting hours.”

Brad shook his head. “I mean, she had
my
baby.”

“Then why weren’t you here for the delivery?”

Brad sighed.
Good question.
“Can I please go up?”

“I’ll tell the nurse manager you’re coming. Check in with her first.”

Brad took the elevator to the eighth floor, pacing as he waited for it to stop. He checked in with the nurse manager at the desk.

“Miss Clark is in room number 814,” the nurse said in a hushed voice. “She’s sleeping right now, but you can peek at the baby in the nursery. She didn’t give him a name yet, so look for the tag that’s says #1. He was the first baby of the year.”

“Thanks.”

Brad sucked in a breath and shoved his shaky hands into his pockets. He slowly walked toward the nursery, his heart racing. He paused before he approached the enormous window. He stood in front of it for a moment before getting the courage to search for the baby amongst the dozen or so little cribs.

Then he saw him in the last bassinette on the right.

Brad stepped forward for a closer look. He pressed his hands against the glass and looked at the impossibly tiny child bundled up in a blanket, his head covered with a blue knit cap so that Brad couldn’t even see the color of his hair.

But there was no denying it was his child. A tiny dimple pocked his chin. Brad tried to choke back his tears and turned from the window. How could he ever trust himself with something so perfect? What if he disappointed the child, like his father had disappointed him so many times?

His instincts had him wanting to run. To run far away. But instead, he watched the baby sleep for a while, then headed Jeanne’s room, leaving fingerprints behind on the window.

He lingered outside the door then slipped in. Her arms were flung over her head as she snored. He stifled a laugh. She only did that when she was drunk.

She must really be out of it
, he thought. He sat in a chair across the room and let out a sigh. He should’ve been there for her. He’d been such an ass about the whole thing, she hadn’t even wanted him here.

Had he lost her? He watched her sleep, just like he’d watched his son. All the pieces of a perfect life were right here waiting for him—the woman he loved, a child she had longed for—a child they’d made together. Why couldn’t he make this right? He imagined Jeanne and him playing with their little boy in the park. Teaching him how to make cookies. Holding him up to the sky and spinning ’round and ’round. He smiled to himself and drifted off to sleep with these unexpected feelings dancing through him.

BRAD WOKE to voices. He sat up, startled, and saw Jeanne talking to a nurse. Brad rushed over and grabbed her hand. He wanted to demand an explanation for why she hadn’t told him she was in labor, but he knew the answer. He’d been a jerk, and she thought he hadn’t wanted to be part of this. So he squeezed her hand.

“Are you all right?”

She smiled and nodded. “When did you get here?”

“Around three. Tonya called me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Always worried someone’s gonna take away her title of town busy-body. She’s giving Faye Jenkins a run for her money.”

“I wish I’d been here.”

The nurse left the room.

Jeanne looked down, toying with the edge of the blanket pulled up over her lap. “I didn’t think you wanted to be.”

“I was horrible to make you go through this without me. I’m just so scared, Jeanne. I don’t know if you can ever forgive me.”

Neither of them said anything.

The nurse came back into the room, wheeling the bassinette. “Say good morning to your baby. I know you’re talking about adoption, but regardless, you can still breastfeed him.” The nurse handed the baby to Jeanne while Brad sank into a chair next to her.

“Adoption?” he managed to whisper.

Jeanne nodded.

Brad looked at his son, working his lips and craning his head towards Jeanne’s breast.

“He’s rooting,” the nurse said. “Go ahead. Try to get him to latch on.”

Jeanne carefully sat up and shifted the baby toward her. She opened her robe and positioned him in front of her breast. He latched on and started sucking.

“Wow,” the nurse said. “Usually that takes a few times. He’s a natural.”

“Well, he is a Larsen boy,” Jeanne said, flashing Brad a look.

Brad turned red, and the nurse smiled.

“I’ll leave you three alone.”

Brad watched the woman he loved cupping his child’s head, smiling at him, cooing soft words. His heart had never hurt as much as it did right then, realizing his foolish stubbornness could’ve prevented him from ever experiencing this moment. Then he remembered what she’d said.

“Jeanne, you wouldn’t really give him up for adoption, would you?”

JEANNE CONSIDERED his question for a moment. She didn’t want to give the baby away, but what was best and what someone wanted wasn’t always the same thing. She sighed and stared out the window at the sun reflecting off the few inches of snow that had fallen the day before. The day was a lot brighter than the mood in the room. It should have been gray and gloomy for such a bittersweet moment.

“This baby ruined everything between us. I don’t want that for him. Someday, he’ll have to hear the story about why we’re not together, and what am I going to tell him?”

He gripped the metal railing on her bed. “Jeanne, no. I don’t want you to give him away. I want him. And I want you.”

Jeanne stared at him, wishing she could believe him. “And what happens when things get rough? Babies cry, parents don’t get sleep. Are you going to panic the first time you get upset? Leave us because you decide you can’t do this after all?”

Brad knelt next to her and wrapped his hand around hers. “No. I’d never leave you. I’ll stop drinking. I’ll take parenting classes. Whatever it takes to make sure I’m a good father. And a good husband.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re ready to make that commitment?”

He nodded.

She gazed at the baby and smoothed a finger down his chubby arm. Who was she kidding? She couldn’t say goodbye to this child. This baby was her family. And if she were lucky, Brad would be too. Her heart swelled. Could she really have it all?

She looked out the window again at the bright, sunny day. She’d lost her parents and her happy childhood. Wasn’t it finally time for some happiness? For some hope—for both of them?

Brad cleared his throat. “I love you, Jeanne. Can we make this work after everything?”

She fixed Brad with a look and smirked. “I don’t know, Brad. I’ve already got Mr. January.”

His smile fell, and his face paled. “Who?”

She slugged his arm. “This little guy.” She kissed the baby’s head. “But I could make you Mr. February.”

He gripped her arm. “So you’ll do it? You’ll have me? We’ll get married and raise this baby together?”

She nodded. “With all the love that was missing from our own families.”

He climbed into her bed, and she scooted over to give him some room. Then she placed the baby in his arms.

Brad curled the child against him and kissed his head. He looked up at Jeanne with teary eyes. “What should we name him?”

“You choose,” she said.