My Babies and Me (9 page)

Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn

BOOK: My Babies and Me

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“I've always been completely honest with Susan.”

“I know you have.”

“I could've stayed here, you know,” he confessed, although he knew Seth had figured that one out long ago. “I didn't have to take the position with Smythe and Westbourne.”

“Sure,” Seth said. “You could've stayed and rotted away.”

Michael froze. “What do you mean?”

“How happy would you have been, knowing what you'd passed up, knowing for the rest of your life that you had a chance to be everything you wanted and turned it down?”

“Does it matter, as long as Susan was happy?” he asked. “Isn't that what we're talking about, being selfish bastards?”

“I don't know about that,” Seth said, frowning. “But I do know that Susan would never have been happy holding you back. Just like she wouldn't have been happy giving up everything she'd worked for at Halliday's to follow you to Chicago.”

“Kids hold a man back.”

“Not some men,” Seth said bitterly. “Some men can be who they wanna be and still have kids.”

“Not me,” Michael admitted. “I travel too much.”

“Tell me about it. I spent all those years going to school, and then making a name for myself. Engineering's all I know how to do.”

Surprised at Seth's tone, Michael tried to concentrate a little harder. “You unhappy in your job?”

“Hell, no,” Seth said so boisterously a couple of guys shooting pool looked over at them. “I love what I do.”

“So where's the problem?”

“I do what I do, that's the problem.”

The answer made no sense to him where Seth was concerned, but it summed up almost perfectly what was troubling Michael.

AFTER A BOUT of throwing up so hard her ribs hurt, Susan crawled back into the spare bedroom, determined to give some serious thought to making it into a nursery. Michael had been in town for three days and she hadn't heard another word from him. She had to quit thinking about him, quit hoping he'd call, and get on with having his babies.

As soon as she answered the door, she told herself when the bell rang.

Of course, it
would
be Michael, just when she was looking her absolute worst. He didn't even know she'd kept his old T-shirt from the intramural basketball team he'd played on in college. It was old and stained, and ripped on one shoulder. And to make matters worse, she was wearing the baggiest pair of sweats she owned and looked like a big grey elephant.

“What's the matter?” he asked once she'd managed to pull open the door.

“Nothing...” she started to assure him, but ruined the effect by bolting for the bathroom again.

“THIS is WHAT it's like for you?” Michael was sitting on the floor by the bathroom, waiting, when Susan finally came out. He was shocked by how much she was suffering.

“Not always.”

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks.” Susan slid down the wall to the floor across from him.

He swore when he saw the tears that sprang to her eyes. “I didn't mean it like that, Sus, you just look like you
feel
horrible.”

“Well, I don't.”

“Still insisting things are easier than they really are, huh?”

“I don't,” she said, pouting so much he wanted to haul her into his arms. “I like to be positive. It accomplishes more.”

He couldn't argue with that. “And what are you accomplishing tonight?”

“Decorating the nursery.”

He couldn't believe even she was attempting a project that huge, feeling as awful as she obviously did. Getting to his feet, Michael went down the hall to take a peek.

“Funny, a nursery looks a lot like a spare bedroom.”

Following him, Susan gave a weak grin. “I'm still in the thinking stages.”

“Want some help?” He didn't know why he was offering, why he was even there. He just knew he couldn't be in town and not see her.

“I don't want your pity, Michael.” Her voice was stronger. “Or your misplaced sense of responsibility. This is my life, a challenge of my own choosing. I can handle it.”

“No one said you couldn't.”

“I never intended you to be involvedâ”

“Susan,” he interrupted, not sure what he intended to say. He
couldn't
let her finish that remark. “This isn't about the child. It's about you, a person I care about, a person who needs a little help. Can't you let me help while I'm in town?”

He was relieved to discover that she was smiling. “You could take the bed apart for me.”

HE CALLED HER at work the next morning.

“Just wanted to make sure you're completely recovered,” he explained when she answered the phone.

“I feel fine,” she told him, not bothering to mention the bout she'd had that morning. It had been a
comparatively mild one. And she'd eaten two stacks of pancakes for breakfast afterward.

“Good enough to have dinner tonight?” he asked. “I figured since this is Friday night, you might want to get out.”

“I'd like that.” Susan's eyes filled with tears, and she cursed the stupid emotionalism that was taking over her body.

Making plans to meet him at her place at six-thirty, she rang off, determined to concentrate on business. The McArthur case was coming up in a couple of weeks and as far as Susan knew, she was still a sure win. Joe Burniker seemed to have lost his touch.

MICHAEL TOOK HER to a little place just across the river where they had a window table for two in a quiet alcove by the water. She'd worn a short black dress, more because it was the loosest one she owned than because she was trying to be fashionable, but she was gratified by the appreciation she saw in Michael's eyes. He looked great, too, his short dark hair a little wind-tossed, his sweater matching the green of his eyes. She was just so darn happy to be out with him.

“I'm not sure, but I think Seth has woman problems,” he told her while they waited for the pasta they'd ordered.

“No kidding?” Susan's spirits lifted even more. “I'd given up hope.”

“I'm not sure there's any reason to hope,” Michael said, frowning. “I think his job's been getting in the way.”

“Oh.” Susan could understand, but she hoped Seth
knew what he was doing. What he might be giving up. She hoped the job was worth it to him.

“I've been meaning to ask you something.” Michael wasn't meeting her eyes and Susan's stomach tightened. It was the first bout of nausea she'd felt all evening.

She nodded.

“What are you going to tell your baby about his father?”

Her heart dropped. Oh. God. That heâtheyâdidn't have one?

“I'm not really sure,” she answered honestly. “I mean, what do the women say who have artificial insemination?”

“I wouldn't know.”

“Would you hate it terribly if I said you were the father?”

“And how would you explain that I don't act like a father without making the kid feel neglected?”

This was so much more complicated than it was supposed to be. “We're divorced,” she said. “Lot's of kids have divorced parents.”

“You don't think he's going to figure out eventually that we were divorced seven years before he came along?”

Susan looked across at him, so close to her. She loved him so much. She'd never realized quite
how
much. “Can't I just tell the truth?”

“I don't know.” He grabbed a pen from his pocket and started doodling on his napkin. “I suppose.”

“Michael?” He glanced up. “That napkin's cloth.”

Going back to his drawing, he said, “I'll pay them
for it.” And then, “Don't you think he's still going to wonder why I'm never around?”

Her heart stopping, Susan promised herself she wouldn't cry. “You aren't planning to be around after the birth? Ever?”

It was what she'd been afraid of since the night she'd conceived. The night she'd known he was telling her goodbye.

“How can I possibly come and visit the mother while remaining nothing to the child?” he asked. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. “How can I see him and not be his father?”

Susan stared at him, frightened, without any answers at all.

CHAPTER NINE

A
LMOST AS THOUGH they both realized their time was running out, Michael and Susan spent the rest of the evening sharing everything they could about the things going on in their lives. With one exception. Neither mentioned the pregnancy.

Susan knew she should tell him she was carrying twins. She'd promised Seth she would, but she just couldn't do it. Michael was hardly able to handle the thought of
one
child.

Michael talked a lot about his insulation project. The Miller family had shown interest and were meeting with their father in Florida that week.

And he talked about a project he was working on in Denver.

“We're buying into the landscaping business,” he told her over fettucine alfredo. “Starting in the Denver area, we're buying out individual landscapers and combining the smaller businesses into one stronger business with many locations. There's a common cost structure, a common service agreement, one place to call for customer service.” His warm green eyes glowing, Michael was in his element. “And once we've finished in the Denver area, we'll move on to other areas around the country, doing the same thing
until, eventually, Coppel owns an entire market. But the best part is, the consumer benefits.”

“Sounds to me like you're creating a monopoly,” Susan said, challenging him. She remembered many weekend mornings when they were both home, sitting at their kitchen table with the newspaper, having conversations just like this one. She'd never realized how much she'd missed them.

“Not really.” He shook his head. “Say there are one hundred landscapers in the area. We buy out thirty of the best. Of the remaining seventy, someâhopefully the worstâgo under, but the most reputable stay in business with loyal customers and referrals.”

He reached for the salt, brushing her hand, lingering, as he did so. “The major benefit here is that when the consumer calls a Coppel landscaper, he's not at the mercy of one particular person. There's a regulated price structure, a fair price structure and an accepted standard of business he can count on.”

Susan smiled at him. “Still set on making the world a better place, eh?” she teased him.

Shrugging, Michael grinned back at her.

As they ate apple cobbler, Susan filled him in on the latest with the McArthur case. If she couldn't find a way to stall, it was going to court in the next couple of weeks.

“So what are you going to do?”

“I don't know,” Susan murmured. “Ethically, I'm bound to protect Halliday's, but my heart tells me it's wrong to see the ruin of a young boy's life.”

“Business life versus personal life.” Michael nodded as though he knew exactly what she was saying.

“I don't think so,” Susan said. “When I walk out
my door in the morning, I don't suddenly become less personal because I'm going to work, and I don't become more of a person when I get home. I'm a businessperson, Michael, wherever I am.”

Fork in mid-air, he stared at her. “And you take who you are to every decision you make.” He sounded surprised, as though the thought had just occurred to him.

“Right.” She knew he'd understand.

“Have you stopped to look for other possibilities in the McArthur case?”

“I've been over it so many times I can quote the defense in my sleep,” she told him. “I just don't see any way for Joe to win without the evidence I can't give him.”

“So, maybe winning or losing isn't the only solution.”

“What else is there?”

“I don't know. Maybe nothing. I'm just suggesting that if you take off your lawyer's hat and look at the situation again, from another perspective, something might occur to you.”

It was worth a try. One thing was for sure. It couldn't hurt.

“I CAN'T BELIEVE you finished that second desert.” Michael was laughing at her as they drove through the dark Cincinnati streets half an hour later.

Laughing too, Susan said, “I seem to eat with the same intensity that I get sick.”

“You do everything with intensity, Susan.” All traces of laughter were gone. “It's one of the things I always loved about you.”

The words took her breath away. “Thank you.”

They drove the rest of the way in a silence weighted with the desire that had been present all night. Parking the Pathfinder in her driveway, Michael gave her a tender, lingering kiss.

“I'd like to stay with you tonight, Susan.”

Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it.

“I'd like that, too.”

“You're sure?” His eyes met hers in the intimate darkness of the Pathfinder.

Reaching across the console, Susan slid her hand along his leg. “Absolutely sure.”

Forgive me, my babies, if this is wrong, but I love your daddy so much....

SETH WAS NOT in a good mood when he stopped by Susan's on Sunday. Neither his mood nor his task was improved by the fact that Michael had spent Friday night right there at Susan's house. Or that he
hadn't
spent Saturday night there, as well.

One thing Seth knew. He didn't want to be there now. Didn't really want to be anywhere in particular, if the truth be known, but most especially not there.

Still, he'd promised Michael he'd cover for him. As much as he disagreed with what Michael and Susan were doing, he felt for the guy.

Susan's disappointed look when she opened the door to see him standing there almost made Seth forget that he felt anything for Michael but a very real need to punch his lights out.

“Michael got called away. He sent me instead.”

His message grew even more distasteful when his sister calmly accepted Michael's desertion. Nodding,
she motioned silently for him to come inside. No questions asked.

“He had to fly to Denverâsome business he'd left unfinished that can't wait as long as he'd hoped,” he explained anyway. At least that was what Michael had said when his call had awakened Seth from a sound sleep that morning. Seth wanted to believe him.

“The landscapers,” Susan said, padding back to the kitchen in her stocking feet. She was wearing sweats again, and a blue flowered T-shirt. “I was just making a coffee cake. You want some?”

“Sure.” He wasn't really hungry, but what the hell. “I promised Michael I'd help you with the nursery.”

“You don't have to do that, I can hanâ”

“You can handle it, I know, sis,” Seth said, taking her by the shoulders. “But I
want
to help, okay?”

Susan nodded.

“I think I made a big mistake,” she confessed later, as they sat in the empty bedroom, looking at the paint swatches and wallpaper books he was holding up.

“I could've told you that.”

“No.” She shook her head, glanced up at him. “I mean, I really made a mistake.”

Seth's heart gave a jolt. “You mean you don't want the babies?”

“No!” She caressed her slight belly possessively. “I want them more than I even knew.” She looked away, then said softly, “But I think I also want Michael to be their father.”

“Thank God.” Seth couldn't help himself. “You've finally come to your senses.”

“You don't understand, Seth.” Her expression was
guilty as hell. And horrified, too. “I think I
always
wanted him to be a father to my babyâbabies, I think I lied to him, Seth. That I lied to me. And I'm scared to death that I tried to trap him with all that talk about no responsibility.”

“You don't know if you meant to trap him or not?”

Susan just shook her head again, those damn tears back in her eyes. He'd seen his sister cry more in the past three months than in her entire life.

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the definition of entrapment to
knowingly
plan to trick someone into doing something he wouldn't ordinarily do?”

He was trying to understand. Trying not to get defensive on Michael's behalf. Trying not to give in to the temptation to lie to his sister and tell her that everything was going to be all right.

“Yes, of course, which I guess means I didn't set out to trap him, but...” She walked into the middle of the room, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Michael asked me the other night what I planned to tell the baby about him, and I didn't have an answer.”

Seth was out of his element. Had no idea what to say. Had no idea what you told a kid who was made by
arrangement.

“I'm so confused, Seth.” The pain in her eyes tore at him. “I know that logically, in my mind, I was fully prepared to have this baby on my own, to raise himâherâalone. I'm just afraid I was so busy forging ahead, I didn't stop to listen to my heart.”

Seth leaned against the wall behind him, the big
book of wallpaper samples still in his hands. He wished he could help her.

“Or maybe I really did want to raise the baby alone back then. Maybe I've changed over the past few months and I've recently begun to wish Michael could be a father to his babies.”

“You didn't tell him about the twins yet, did you?”

“No.” She looked helplessly around. “I... couldn't.”

“He has a right to know.”

Her eyes were filled with fear as her gaze flew to his. “Promise me
you
won't tell him.”

Raising both hands, Seth muttered, “Hey, I'm staying out of this. It's between you and him.”

Susan's face was anguished, distorted by uncertainty.

He'd never seen her like this. It scared the hell out of him.

“I never meant to hurt him, Seth,” she said softly, shaking her head.

“I know that.”

“The thing isâ” she turned her back to him “âI want it all. I want Michael in my life, however he needs to be there, and I want his babies, too. I guess I should've realized you can't have everything before it was too late to do anything about it.”

He couldn't stand to hear her so bitter, so hopeless. “It's never too late, sis.” Seth tossed the book to the floor and gave his sister a hug. “It's never too late.”

But even as he said the words he was afraid that sometimes it was.

“YOU ASLEEP?”

“Yeah, but that's okay.” Susan rolled onto her back in the dark, the bedside phone at her ear, happy he'd called. “How's your week going?”

Michael was in California meeting with the finance directors of one of Coppel's diversified interests. It had been a little over two weeks since she'd seen him, but he'd been calling. A lot.

“Fine,” he said, his voice tired. “Business is good.” Another sigh. “You know how old it gets having to walk through a lobby of strangers every night just to go to bed?”

“Yeah, well, there are other options to those fancy high-rises you stay in, Michael,” she told him. “You know there are these things called motels where you drive right up to your own front door.”

“Don't get smart with me, woman,” he said, but she could hear the laughter in his voice. “Point taken. No more whining.” It sounded like he'd just torn a sheet of paper off a tablet. Susan could picture him, sitting at the desk in his posh hotel room, drawing pictures.

“The McArthur case starts tomorrow.”

“On Tuesday? I thought you were expecting later in the week.”

Susan bunched her pillows more comfortably behind her. “Wishful thinking, I guess.”

“You ready?”

“Of course.”

“You gonna win?”

“Unless a miracle happens between now and then.”

“Just remember what I said, Sus, that wouldn't be
the end of the world, nor does it have to be the end of the line for this boy. Something may come up.”

“I hope so.”

“Bobbie Jayne called me today.”

“She knows you're in California?” Last she knew, he hadn't even told his parents about his promotion.

“She left a message for me in Chicago. I pulled it off my machine.”

“How's she doing?”

“Good...great.” He paused. “She was in a play this semester in schoolâa musical, actually,
Oklahomaâand
she had to tell me about every scene.”

Grinning, Susan gazed up at the ceiling, making mental shapes out of the shadows. “That must've been entertaining.”