My Babies and Me (2 page)

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Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn

BOOK: My Babies and Me
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“I WANT to have a baby.”
Seth spit the whiskey he'd been sipping, spraying it across the table.
“What?”
Laughing, Susan wiped a couple of drops of Crown Royal from her neck. At least her silk blouse and suit jacket had been spared. “It's not like you to waste good whiskey,” she admonished. Actually, she was a little concerned on that score. It was still only eleven. A bit early for her brother to be hitting the hard stuff. He'd ordered a drink the last time they'd met for lunch, as well.
Leaning across the table, Seth whispered, “Are you out of your mind?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Susan.” He sat upright, every inch the imposing
engineer who flew all over the country inspecting multimillion-dollar construction sights. “Be
serious.”
“I don't think I've ever been more serious in my life.” She was still grinning, but mostly because if she didn't, she might let him intimidate her.
“Why?”
“I'm thirty-nine.” Neither of them touched the sandwiches they'd ordered.
“Yeah. So?”
Susan shrugged. “If I don't do it now, I'll have lost the chance.”
“That's no reason to have a kid. You're supposed to want it.”
“I do.” Oddly enough.
Picking up a fry, Seth still looked completely overwrought. “Since when?”
“Since I graduated from law school.”
He stared at her, fry suspended in midair. “No kidding?” She'd obviously surprised him.
“I have it all written down.” She spoke quickly, eager to elaborate, to convince him that her decision was a good one. The right one. To win his approval. How could she possibly hope to convince Michael if she couldn't even get the brother who championed everything she did on her side?
“Before I married Michael, I spent a weekend at a lodge in Kentucky, assessing my life, my goals, my dreams. Life was suddenly looming before me and I was scared.” She warmed beneath Seth's empathetic gaze. “Frightened that I'd lose myself along the way somehow.” Her brother nodded, looking down at the plate between his elbows.
“By the end of the weekend, I'd mapped out all
my goals, both short- and long-term, in chronological order.” Seth was staring at her again, his expression no longer empathetic. Unlike the sophisticated lawyer she was, she rushed on. “It was the only way I could be sure I wouldn't let myself down, wouldn't end up sixty years old and regretting what I'd done with my life—when it was too late to do anything about it.” Like their mother, she wanted to add but couldn't. The boys didn't know about those last hours she'd spent with their mother before she died. No one knew. Except Michael.
Seth continued to stare silently. “I wrote down career goals first,” she said, then took a sip of her brother's whiskey. “Where I wanted to be by what time. Financial goals. Work goals. Personnal goals. For instance, I wanted to be able to play the violin by the time I was thirty-five.”
“That's why you took those lessons?”
“Because I wanted to learn how to play? Yes.”
“But did you still want to play the violin when you got to that stage in your life?” Seth asked, pinning her with a big-brother stare he had no right to bestow on her. “Or did you just take the lessons because you'd written down that you had to?”
“I wanted to learn to play.” She'd just been unusually busy that year, which was the only reason she hadn't enjoyed the experience as much as she'd thought she would.
“When was the last time you picked up your violin?”
That was beside the point. She'd been too busy these past four years.
“I wanted to travel to Europe by the time I was
thirty-six.” She steered Seth back to the original conversation. “And,” she added before he could grill her, “I loved every second of the month I spent there.”
Of course, she'd been with Michael, and as a general rule, she loved every second she'd spent with Michael, period. They'd even made getting divorced fun. They'd rushed straight home afterward, tripped over his packing boxes on the way to their bedroom and made love furiously until dawn.
Seth chomped on a couple of fries. Brooding. His classically golden good looks were broken by the frown he was wearing.
“I've always known I'd have a baby by the year 2000,” Susan said softly, seriously, begging her brother to understand.
“Listen to you! Learn to play an instrument, go to Europe, have a baby by the year 2000. It's ludicrous, Susan.” When his intensity didn't sway her, he slowed down. “What happens after you have this baby?” he finally asked.
“Then I raise him or her.”
“You can't just bring a child into the world because some stupid plan tells you to, Susan.”
“Who says I can't?” Not exactly an answer to be proud of, but he was making her defensive.
“You aren't mother material, for God's sake! Can't you see that?”
She opened her mouth but couldn't speak. Not one word came out. She just sat there, mouth gaping, staring at him.
Until her eyes filled with tears. “How can you say that?”
“I'm sorry, sis.” He glanced away, took a sip of whiskey. “I love you, you know that.”
She'd thought she did.
“Look at your life, Susan, all mapped out, running right on schedule. The last thing children do is follow your schedule. They shouldn't have to. They should be free to follow their own way, their own hearts. And they need parents who can give them the time, the freedom of choice to do so.”
“Like you'd know?” she asked, still hurt by his sudden abandonment.
He acknowledged his own lack of family with a nod. “I
do
know,” he said, surprising her with his fierceness. “Which is exactly why I'm so goddamn alone.” He finished off his whiskey with one swallow.
“Seth?”
There was a lot more going on here than she knew. A lot more that she needed to know.
“Not now,” was all he said, flagging down the waitress for another whiskey.
Susan pushed her plate away, untouched. She'd had breakfast at nine. It was way too early to be thinking about eating again.
“There's another factor that's missing here. Unless something else has happened since I left town.”
Susan shook her head. Life had been predictable, the same, for months now.
“A baby needs a father.” Seth's voice was strong again. He made a show of glancing around them. “I don't see one hanging around.”
Susan took a deep breath. “I'm going to ask Michael.”
Eyes suddenly alight, Seth grinned and grabbed her hand. “You two are getting back together?”
She couldn't hold his gaze, couldn't watch it dim. Sliding her hand from his, Susan shook her head. “Of course not. Nothing's changed there.”
“Careers still come first, you mean?” he asked.
Susan nodded, awash in the sadness she felt emanating from her younger brother.
“My point exactly.” He finished off the second whiskey. “A kid deserves to come first.”
CHAPTER TWO
“S
O THIS BABY THING is the reason you didn't feel like working today?” Seth asked as he walked her to her car fifteen minutes later. He seemed huge and intimidating in his expensive overcoat.
And he was making her mad again with his refusal to take her seriously about the baby. If she couldn't convince Seth, how in hell was she ever going to convince Michael? But because she didn't want to face the fact that she might not be able to convince either one of them, Susan let his comment go.
To a point.
“No,” she finally answered him, studying the shadowy trail her breath left on the air.
They'd reached her Infiniti, and Seth opened the door she'd unlocked with her antitheft device as they'd approached. “I've actually got a small problem at work that was making me wish I was somewhere else this morning.”
“A small problem?” Seth leaned into the car, one arm on the hood, one on the open door. “That means there's something major coming down. What is it?” He paused, frowning again. “Your job isn't in jeopardy, is it?”
Susan laughed then, but without much humor. “Hardly.” They both knew she could write her own
ticket as far as Halliday Headgear for Sports was concerned. She'd saved them enough money over the years to buy them out twice.
“Then what is it?”
“Just a case I'm working on. No big deal.” Susan started the car, turning the heat up full blast.
“Is Halliday in trouble?”
“Nope.”
“You going to tell me, or you want me to just keep asking questions until my ass freezes?”
“It's nothing, really.” Susan grinned up at him. “Just a little suit I could have won even
before
I attended law school.”
“And?”
It was annoying how well Seth knew her. She'd have to remember to stay away from him when she was having birthday blues in the future. “I just feel for this boy, okay? His face mask snapped, a production problem with one of the hinges. The kid suffered a subdural hematoma which is pushing against his brain, causing paralysis on one side of his body. His father's out of work and the family doesn't have insurance. They don't have money for surgery, let alone the months of physical therapy he's going to need.”
“If his face mask malfunctioned, isn't Halliday responsible?”
“We would be if he'd been wearing it to play softball—the mask's intended use.”
“Why was he wearing it?”
Susan looked up at her brother. “He was playing soccer.”
“Halliday's getting off on a technicality?”
“A big one.”
“And the kid?”
Susan shrugged. “I don't know. Even if the surgery's performed, he's not going to be able to walk again without rehabilitation.” She took a deep breath. “I could win this one for him if I were on his side. I know of a loophole that would override ours.” “Damn!” Seth whistled. “You sure as hell don't need to be wasting energy worrying about babies, Susan. Sounds like you've got some soul-searching to do a lot closer to home.”
“Yeah.” She'd be doing some soul-searching, all right, but having a baby was about as close to home as she could get.
 
A MESSAGE FROM Michael was waiting for her back at the office. Susan was inordinately disappointed to have missed his call. Especially in light of the dissatisfying hour and a half she'd just spent with her punk of a brother. Who the hell did he think he was telling her she wasn't mother material? How would he know?
Of course
she was mother material. She just hadn't had the occasion to use those maternal skills or instincts or whatever they were...yet. But she would as soon as she could.
Her fingers didn't falter this time as she punched out Michael's number. She had a goal. A purpose. And no one was going to stop her.
“I'm sorry, Ms. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy is out of town today....”
And that about summed up the day for her, Susan thought as she dropped the phone back in its cradle. He'd left town on her birthday. He'd left town without
telling her. What in hell was the world coming to?
She listened indifferently to the remainder of her messages. Her father had called to wish her happy birthday. No round of golf for her. Only her brothers got
that
invitation for their birthdays. Julie, her brother Scott's wife, not only called to wish her happy birthday, but to invite her to little Joey's second birthday party the following week. Scott was her oldest brother. And her least favorite. He was so much like their dad he made her crazy. But he was a good man and when she was in a normal mood, she had to love him.
Spencer, the doctor in the family and the youngest brother, had called for him and Barbara, his wife, who was also a doctor. What was this? It seemed as if everyone was ganging up on her. Like there was a conspiracy to make her feel better or something. Did they know how miserable she felt? How much she wished the day would just go away?
The thought gave her chills. She didn't want any of them to guess that she wasn't just hunky dory and happy-go-lucky with her perfect little life. She'd been defending it to them forever, and she'd bloat up and burst if she suddenly had to eat all those words.
Besides, Stephen and Sean hadn't called yet. Which meant no conspiracy was afoot. Sean, the brother between Seth and Spencer, was the organizer of mutinies in the family. He'd have been the first to call and gloat if he thought he had a way to get to her. And Stephen? Well, she wouldn't be surprised to get a birthday call from him sometime in March. If it weren't for the fact that he was a renowned nuclear
scientist, she'd worry about his IQ. The man was about as clueless as they came. He was also closest to Susan in age, being only one year her senior. He was going to hit forty this year.
Snatching the phone back up, Susan buzzed her assistant. “I'll be out for the rest of the day,” she said the second Jill answered. She didn't want to enter into any discussions about research and cases on the docket. It was her birthday and she was damn well going to enjoy it. Somehow. She loved birthdays.
“The McArthur boy lost his lawyer,” Jill reported anyway. “I figured you'd want to know.”
That was true. Susan did want to know. Later.
“Any change in his condition?” she asked in spite of herself.
“Still paralyzed.”
“Thanks.” Susan made a mental note to seek out Tricia Halliday the following week. Surely they could find a compromise on this particular case.
She just wondered how much groveling or bribing she'd have to do to get the hard-hearted woman to budge. Tricia cared about being right. Not about being human.
“I'm taking tomorrow off, as well,” she decided out loud. The next day was Friday. She was giving herself a birthday present.
“Heading for Chicago?” Jill asked. Susan could hear the impertinent grin in her assistant's voice.
“Not that you know about.”
“Don't worry, Susan, there'll be no calls from me unless the old lady croaks.”
“Even that can wait until Monday,” Susan muttered as she hung up the phone.
Michael's secretary had said he'd be back that night. She was going to be there to welcome him home personally. She needed a fix.
And maybe, just maybe, she'd get up the guts to ask for the present she wanted most in the world.
A tiny little life to nurture and love and fill her up again.
She had a feeling she'd have to put forth the most convincing argument of her life if she hoped to win this one. Of course, that was what she'd thought when she'd been set on talking Michael out of their divorce. And look where that had gotten her.
 
MICHAEL TRIED to reach Susan again when he touched down in Chicago. Not only was he dying to share his news, even if everything was only in the possibility stages, he'd also remembered on the flight home that today was Susan's birthday. To celebrate, he stopped at the American Airlines counter and bought them both tickets to Hawaii for Easter weekend. It had been too long since either of them had taken a vacation.
The tickets were open-ended, as always. He could change them if Easter wasn't good for her.
She was out of the office until Monday. Still no answer at the condo. Knowing how much Susan loved birthdays, knowing more than anyone how she did everything to excess, he was sure she'd found some crazy way to celebrate this last birthday in her thirties. Things like that mattered to Susan. Celebrating. And momentous birthdays. Michael usually had to stop and think to even remember how old he was. Age
wasn't anything that had ever mattered to him. He supposed it might be different for women.
Catching sight of a departure board as he walked by, Michael found himself searching for any flights leaving for Cincinnati that evening. He wanted to be with Susan. To share his news. To share her celebration. To make love to her...
He wanted to go home.
And because his wanting threatened to override good sense, Michael went to pick up his forest-green Pathfinder from the airport's parking garage instead. His home was here for now, in the condo he'd purchased when he'd moved to Chicago seven years ago. He and Susan had made their choices then. Forced to decide between staying together and climbing to the top, neither one had been willing to give up on career success. As great as their marriage had been, their careers had meant more—to both of them.
He had the day's industrial summaries to go over. Reports to study. He'd catch Susan later when she was all celebrated out.
And maybe he'd be able to talk her into a quick trip to Chicago in the not-too-distant future.
 
Two DRINKS AT LUNCH. Another one instead of dinner. And peace was as elusive as ever. Seth Carmichael stayed at his desk until his eyes stung from lack of sleep, and he knew he had to pack it in. Go home. He'd been up for more than twenty-four hours. He'd taken the red-eye after last night's meetings in Alaska to make it back here in time for Susan's birthday. He'd like to think that meant he'd fall into bed the
second he hit his apartment, that he'd sleep the sleep of the just. Or the dead.
But he knew he wouldn't.
And that was why he was still at work two hours after everyone else had gone home for the night. Of course, they all had families to go home to. Seth had an apartment filled with stale air. There weren't even any plants sharing the place with him. He was gone so much any plants he brought home just shriveled up and died.
He locked up carefully and walked out of the building that housed the offices held by Hier Engineering. In the parking lot, Seth climbed into his Bronco, pleased with the power beneath his hands as the engine turned over instantly.
Bitch of it was, he liked his life. Or he had. He loved his job. Enough to know that when he was seeing double like this, he had to leave the figures alone. He couldn't risk a mathematical error that could result in a tragic accident—a building not as sturdy as it needed to be, a bridge that cracked. These were his real nightmares.
Almost of its own accord, Seth's Bronco headed in the opposite direction from home, toward a part of town he no longer had any reason to visit.
So why were his nights filled with a couple of sullen little faces and a more determined beautiful one? It had been four months since Laura's ultimatum. Four months.
He felt as raw as if she'd hurled those hateful words only yesterday. They were as clear in his mind as if she had.
Hell, it wasn't like she'd been a permanent fixture
in his life. Or her kids, either. He'd only met them the previous summer when he'd shown up to coach soccer to a bunch of underprivileged kids and met a little boy with a whole lot of defensiveness but a lot of talent, too. He'd been drawn to Jeremy from that very first day, thinking of him at odd times through the weeks that followed—trying to figure out a way to help him.
And the boy's mother... He could still remember the first time he'd stopped by Jeremy's house to speak to his parents about the boy's talent. He'd thought Laura was the boy's sister when she answered the door. Her silky blond hair had been hanging loose over a frayed tank top. And her cutoff shorts had had more holes in them than her tennis shoes.
He'd been poleaxed right from the start. And that was before she'd even opened her mouth, before he'd discovered her indomitable strength. Before he'd found out the good news—she was single. Divorced.
The Bronco sped down the exit ramp. Seth didn't reduce his speed as he continued on.
And Susan. What in hell had gotten into his sister? Didn't she know she was his hero? That he measured everything he did by her standards? How could she do something as stupid, as
heartless,
as to even consider bringing a child into the world simply because she'd written it down in her damn planner? Who was going to raise that child, nurture him, love him, while Susan spent fourteen hours a day at work?

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