Tempting Fate (60 page)

Things were getting complicated all right.  He wanted Maggie.  And everything that came with her.  Including her baby.

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Chapter Thirteen

One scoop of mashed potatoes.  No carrots on Kelly's plate.  Put an extra drumstick on Brian's plate.  It was a typical Tuesday afternoon, one of Brian's afternoons to sweep the floors.  Maggie always liked having him around in the afternoons.  It made the day go by so much quicker, and she was thankful for the helping hand now that she was nearing the end of her pregnancy.  Preparing a plate of chicken for him and his younger sisters was the least she could do as thanks. 

As she finished covering the plates with plastic wrap and carefully placing them in a brown paper bag, she glanced through the window from the kitchen into the dining room.  Maggie could tell by the mopey look Brian had on his face for the past hour that he'd had a bad day at school.  Although slightly shorter for his age, Brian's blond streaked hair and light-hearted charm made him appear so much older than his mere twelve years.  Maggie wondered just what happened to drag down his normally upbeat personality.  This was exactly the kind of day he needed his mother at home. 

Rhonda hadn't been there when Maggie got home for school, either.  But unlike Brian, Maggie had always had the next best thing to her mother.  She had her grandmother. 

Although the
Coffee Drop
was closed soon after she got out of school, it had become Maggie's after school hangout, a refuge on those days when boy troubles abounded and little spats with her girlfriends seemed like the end of the world.  She'd sit at the counter with a glass of milk and piece of cherry pie while her grandmother cleaned up.  The two of them would gab about everything and nothing and soon Maggie would feel better.

Brian didn't have his mother or his grandmother to fill his voids.  And if he found one ounce of the comfort and reassurance she'd always felt as a child by coming to the
Coffee Drop
, then she was glad to give it.

Brian glanced at her as she pushed through the swinging doors into the dining area.  He began sweeping faster, as if he'd been caught daydreaming and needed to show he was working hard in order to get his dinner.  If only he knew just how much of a softy she really was.

“I asked Virginia to bake the brownies without walnuts today.  I don't want Kelly picking them all out and leaving a mess on the rug again.”  She dropped the paper bag on the counter just in front of the spot were Brian was sweeping.  “Use the microwave this time.  One minute per plate.”

“Lindsay will remind me.  She doesn't like cold vegetables.”

“I don't blame her.  Do you?”

“I guess.  Thanks, Miss Wallace,” he said, embarrassment masking his gratitude.

Maggie hesitated, unable to keep from smiling.  “Mrs. Wallace,” she corrected gently. 

Brian had always called her Miss Wallace.  When he continued doing it, even after the first few times she'd corrected him, she decided it didn't bother her enough to make an issue out of it. 

Then last Tuesday, her first day back to work since Jonah returned from England, Jonah had stopped in while Brian was sweeping up and made a point of setting him straight.  The two of them had had a nice little heart to heart while Maggie was in the kitchen preparing the dinner plates for Brian. 

She smiled inwardly, recalling the bashful look on Brian's face when she walked into the dining room just in time to hear him ask Jonah if he was her husband.  Kids were funny that way.  They didn't really want to know, but didn't have any inhibitions about asking either.  Jonah had answered with a possessive “yes”.

Jonah couldn't even know how much it made her heart soar to hear him say it that way.  And although they hadn’t made love again since that day, their relationship had elevated to a new level since Jonah had come home from England.  Maggie found herself daydreaming about the future, a very different future than she'd imagined, in a way she rarely allowed herself to before.

“I keep forgetting, Mrs. Wallace.”

“It's okay.  How was your day at school?”

Brian huffed quietly, but didn't look up at her.  Instead he continued sweeping the same patch of floor.  “Like all the others.” 

Maggie knew he probably wouldn't tell her what was really on his mind.  Just the thought that there was someone to gripe to was probably all he needed to get through the next few hours until his mother could come home and make it right for him.

She glanced at the clock over the door as she padded around the counter to where Brian was sweeping.  Reaching out she took the broom from his hand and said, “You'd better get going if you want to make it home before your sisters.”

“I haven't even loaded the boxes out back yet.  Mr. Wallace told me I shouldn't let you touch any of them.”

The weighty expression on Brian's face made Maggie wonder just what Jonah had said to make a twelve year old boy look so serious about a few little salt and sugar packet boxes.

She grinned.  “He did, did he?”

Brian nodded.

She glanced at the boxes piled in the corner by the kitchen door.  They wouldn't be too heavy if she took them one by one.  But she had promised Jonah she wouldn't do any lifting at all, one of the main reasons he'd eased up on her continuing to work during her pregnancy.  She'd seen how worried he'd get when she was tired, and how upset he was when she told him she'd only lifted a few boxes here and there and left anything heavy for the next morning for the kitchen help.  Besides, they were only little boxes of sugar and salt packets.

“It isn't your responsibility to load any boxes.  Mr. Wallace usually stops by before I leave.  He can take care of them.  You just get a move on.  You don't want your sisters to be scared if you're not at the bus stop when they get there.” 

She stood, hugging the broom handle as Brian scrambled into his brightly colored team jacket and propped his baseball cap low on his head. 

“Thanks, Mrs. Wallace,” he said, tossing his backpack over his shoulder and breezing through the door to the outside like only a twelve year old boy does.

Maggie chuckled softly, a thread of emotion tugging at her heart.  One day she'd probably be watching her own son or daughter fly through those very doors the same way. 

The shrill sound of the telephone cut into the empty room, startling her.  It was probably Jonah, calling to check in on her again.  She turned much too quickly and when she did, the broom slipped from her fingers, smacking hard against the floor, making an echo.  Her mistake was bending down just as fast to pick it up.

A knifelike pain gripped her middle, stopping her as she started to stand.  She dropped the broom with the next pain and to her horror felt a warm flow of liquid seeping from her body.

Oh, God, no!  She didn't want to look.  She didn't want to know if it was her water or blood.  It was too soon.  She wasn't due for another month.

The phone pealed out again.  She'd told Brian that Jonah was going to stop by.  He had every afternoon this week since he'd come home from England, using the excuse that he was addicted to her coffee.  She knew he was being a worry wart and only dropped in to make sure she wasn't over doing things as she'd promised. 

But Jonah had already made his daily visit shortly after lunch.  He'd mentioned meeting Cam in the afternoon to look at possible sites for Haven House.  She was positive he wouldn't be stopping in again today, just as sure as she knew he was the one on the other end of the line.

She had to get to the phone.

Maggie eased herself up, one knee still on the floor, one foot firmly planted beneath her, gripping the top of the vinyl covered stool for support.  The phone was just on the other side of the kitchen door.  If she used the counter for support she could make it there before the phone stopped ringing.  She tried to heave herself up, but the pain shot straight through her middle and downward again, stealing all her breath away.  She gave it one more try and dropped to her hands and knees, this pain worse than the last.

The telephone blared urgently.  She steadied herself as the room spun around her like a tilt-a-whirl at a carnival.  

A hot tear shot down her cheek, followed by another.  Lifting her head, Maggie stared through tear-filled eyes at the length of floor between her and the kitchen door.  That phone may as well have been half way to the moon. 

* * *

With Cam running alongside him, Jonah stormed through the swinging doors leading to the third floor maternity ward.  The smell of bleached white cleanliness permeated the air and only added to the urgency in his step.  A young pregnant woman was walking the halls dressed in a hospital Johnny and slippers.  Her husband walked alongside her, supporting her with one arm, pushing a tall stand that held an IV bag with the other.

Jonah cursed inwardly.  He should have been here sooner.  He should be helping Maggie like that.

It had been just under an hour since Mary's urgent call.  He and Cam had been to several sites that afternoon, the last being far enough away from the hospital to make driving on the Expressway during rush hour a nightmare.  If it hadn't been for Cam's insistence to take the wheel, Jonah would have ended up roaring down one way streets, recklessly driving over sidewalks and knocking down parking meters just to get here.

“Maggie Wallace, where is she?” Jonah barked out as he reached the nurses’ station. 

“Take it easy, Jonah.”  He felt Cam's comforting hand on his shoulder, but it gave him none of the relief he craved.  There'd be none until he saw that Maggie and the baby were fine.

“Are you her husband?”

“Yes.”

“She's in the delivery room.  Her mother is with her now.  Down the hall and to your right.”

“Delivery?  But she's not due for another few weeks.”

“She had a little accident at work and started hemorrhaging.  The doctor can explain all the details to you.”

 The nurse led them down the hall and paused right outside the delivery room door.  “You need to cover yourself with sterile clothes before you go in.  Wait here and I'll get you a surgical robe and mask.”

Jonah stared at the double doors and drew in a deep breath, feeling utterly helpless.  When Maggie had first asked him to act as her coach, he'd first thought it would be difficult to watch.  Maggie had been gracious, telling him her mother could fill in if he felt uncomfortable. 

He had almost conceded given the fact that he and Maggie had only been intimate as man and wife just once and the thought of him seeing her then sent her running away before the morning light.  Giving birth wasn't a time for her to feel inhibited in any way. 

But when he'd mentioned it to her she'd just laughed it off, saying when the time came she probably wouldn't care if the entire Boston Pops were in the delivery room with her until it was all over.  Then it wouldn't matter anymore because she'd have her baby in her arms.

There were so few things she allowed him to help her with that Jonah agreed.  But what Jonah found hard to handle during the drive over to the hospital, and now as he stood in front of the delivery room doors, was not being there.  Regardless of the logistics in giving birth, or the fact that the baby she was bringing into the world wasn't his, Jonah wanted to be on the other side of these doors with Maggie.  Not knowing what was going on was driving him completely insane. 

Jonah ran his hand over his face, vaguely aware that Cam was still standing right behind him. 

“She's going to be just fine, Jonah.”

He glanced back at Cam, his best friend.  In so many ways Cam was the brother Jonah never had growing up.  And right now, Jonah was infinitely glad he'd run away from boarding school all those years ago.

“I just...need her to know I'm here.”

“You are now.”

Rhonda came charging through the door fully clothed in hospital scrubs just as the nurse came back with a fresh set for him.

“Finally!” she screamed.  “Two trains and a cab got me here before you.  What's your excuse?”  Her voice was frantic, born mostly of the same fear he felt for Maggie.

“Blame it on me, this time,” Cam interjected.  “I got caught in traffic.”

“She's so tired already,” Rhonda said on a sigh.  “You take care of her.”

Jonah slipped into the hospital scrubs as he raced through the delivery room door, vaguely aware of Cam saying something about a long wait and taking Rhonda to the hospital cafeteria.

The steady beep from the fetal monitor did little to alleviate Jonah's rampant heartbeat when he saw Maggie.

Her face was white and drawn, so completely exhausted.  Her dark hair was mussed and sweaty around the edges of her face, her eyes were red and puffy from crying.

He should have insisted she stay home from work.  He should have insisted she take his damned help and not be so bloody independent about everything.

It was his own damned fault for not making her see that he could take care of her, that he would always take care of her no matter what damned arrangement they'd made at the onset of their marriage.

Dr. Danport introduced himself and quickly filled Jonah in on Maggie's progress.  “Despite our efforts this baby has decided to come on its own time clock.  I'm a little concerned with her bleeding, but she's dilated quickly and she's almost ready to start pushing.  You made it just in time for the grand finale.”

Maggie lifted her gaze to him.  Her bottom lip trembled as he brushed his lips against the back of her hand.  “It was only a broom,” she sobbed.  “I just bent down to pick up...”

“It's okay,” he said quickly, hoping she'd take some comfort in his words. 

Her face changed drastically and her hand suddenly squeezed his until her knuckles became white.  She clasped her eyes tightly and began to breathe in short staccato bursts.  The heart monitor climbed higher and higher until the contraction peaked, and began to slowly subside.

Jonah rubbed a cool face cloth over Maggie's forehead as her breathing calmed.

“How are you doing?”

“It was only a broom,” Maggie said again, tears suddenly spilling over the brims of her eyes like heavy rain.  “I swear, I thought about moving the boxes but I didn't.”