The Baby Agenda (10 page)

“Dinner was good.” She gave him a bright, artificial smile. “Thank you.”

Right now, he was the original house-husband. What else did he have to do but grocery shop and cook on days when she didn't need him? A week into it, he'd have thought he would be bored to death, but strangely he wasn't yet. He'd been reading voraciously, a pleasure he hadn't been able to make much time for even once Sophie was off to college. Will had found he enjoyed accompanying Moira to job sites, too, seeing her in her element demonstrating a quickness of mind and creativity he admired. The contractors, electricians and plumbers she dealt with were almost universally men, but aside from a certain nervousness when their gazes strayed to her protuberant belly, they treated her straightforwardly
and with respect. Will knew some of them, and he'd been careful to deflect any attempt on their parts to include him in discussions.

“This isn't my job,” he'd say briefly. He wouldn't blame Moira for getting her back up if anyone tried to defer to him instead of her. Will did stay close to her from the minute they got out of her car or his pickup. If she so much as stumbled, he'd grab her or wrap his arm around her waist.

He thought she was starting to get used to having him touch her, progress of a kind. The first few times he'd laid a hand on her lower back as they walked, or reached for her to help her out of a vehicle, she'd been obviously startled. Today, she had walked in the front door looking exhausted, and when he pulled her to him she'd simply leaned, as if she had waited all day to do just that.

“No,” he said now when she stood and started clearing plates. “I'll clean the kitchen. You sit.”

“If you cook, I should clean.”

“You worked today. I didn't.” He took the empty serving bowl and plate out of her hands. “Want me to put hot water on for tea?”

She followed him to the kitchen but settled on a stool at the breakfast bar. At his question, she sighed. “No, it'll only make me have to, um…”

It amused him that she should be shy about something like that.

“Get up at night?” He raised an eyebrow at her. “According to the book about pregnancy I've been reading, that's pretty normal.”

“You've been reading a book about pregnancy?” Moira looked aghast. “Why?”

“I want to know what to expect,” he said simply.

“Speaking of which…” Color tinted her cheeks. “I need
to start a childbirth class. Actually, I should have started a couple of weeks ago. And, well, I need a labor coach.” She was talking faster and faster. “I wondered if you wanted to go with me. Except it would mean you being there. I mean, when I have the baby.”

He'd opened the dishwasher, but now he straightened. What the hell? Had she been thinking of asking someone else? “I told you I intended to be there. Of course I want to be your labor coach.”

“Oh. Well.” Moira rubbed her fingertips on the tile counter. “Okay. Then I'll sign us up. It's only once a week.”

He nodded, willing himself not to get pissed off. He felt more married than she did, but he couldn't blame her. He'd pushed her into this.

He was getting damn tired of repeating that to himself, but he'd keep doing it as long as he had to.

“We can practice the breathing at home,” he said.

Moira nodded, then said a little tentatively, “I was thinking we might get a Christmas tree pretty soon. Unless you want to go to your brother's, or…”

“You mean, do
we
want to go to my brother's?”

He must have sounded ticked, because she looked wary.

“I did assume you wouldn't take off Christmas Day and leave me behind. Although I spent last year with Charlotte and Gray and Faith and…oh, everyone. I'm sure we'd be welcome if we'd like to do that.”

Damn it, this wasn't a minefield. She shouldn't have to watch her every word.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “Can your mother come for the holidays? Or would she rather wait until you have the baby?”

“I think that's what she has in mind.” She hesitated.
“We should have Christmas with your family. Maybe have them here.”

He reached across the counter and took her hand. “Yeah, I'd like to do that. Maybe just us Christmas Eve, unless you want to do something with Gray and Charlotte.”

“They're having a party the Saturday before.” Her smile was a little tremulous. “I'd like to get a tree. And maybe put up lights. If you don't mind climbing the ladder.”

“I'd rather you keep both feet on the ground.” He grinned at her. “I like Christmas. Bring it on.”

Her smile brightened and he saw a glow of excitement in her eyes. “Have you shopped yet? I mean, for Sophie and everybody?”

“For a change, yeah.” He laughed at her expression.

“What did you think? I'm a guy. But in this case I brought presents from Africa.” For her, too, but he didn't mention that. “I even have a few extra things. A basket your mom might like, for example.” He'd packed a whole suitcase full of things that had caught his eye.

Moira gave a happy wriggle. “Let's get a tree next weekend.”

Will felt a glow of his own, centered right under his breastbone. “Works for me.”

Their first Christmas.

She might assume it would also be their last, but Will was finding that he liked being married to Moira. Failure wasn't an option. Starting a few traditions together spiced by Christmas spirit might be just the thing to convince her that they could be happy together.

 

“O
H, MY,” THE CHILDBIRTH
instructor said when she saw Moira. “When are you due, dear?”

She must be enormous. Everyone who set eyes on her
thought she should be ready to go into labor. “Not as soon as I look,” Moira said. “My doctor wondered earlier on about twins, but my husband was a big baby and she thinks this one is going to be good-sized too.”

The instructor's assessment was practiced. “You may not make it full-term. Well.” She smiled at Moira then at Will, who stood behind her. “Welcome. Why don't you take a seat on one of the mats?”

Moira glanced around. There were six other couples and one very pregnant woman whose labor coach was likely her mother, given the resemblance between the two women. Will stood over Moira while she clumsily got to her hands and knees then sat with a groan.

“I feel like a…a hippopotamus,” she mumbled to Will.

She loved his smile.

“They're actually graceful in water, you know,” he told her. “It's when they lumber
out
of the water that they, uh…”

“Resemble me?”

His laugh was a low, husky rumble. “Something like that.”

He sat behind her, spread his legs to each side of her and said, “Lean back against me.”

With a sigh, she did. In theory, she still had a month to go, which made her wonder if she'd be able to get out of a chair by the last week. She was more grateful than she wanted to admit for Will's frequent helping hand. In fact, she was beginning to wonder how she'd have managed at all without him. And that made her uneasy. When was the last time she'd actually
needed
someone?

The class started off with breathing exercises. Moira felt silly lying on the mat panting and blowing, but the other women were doing it and Will had listened to the
explanation with a seriousness that Moira found touching. Not that she would have expected anything different. He wouldn't be here with her if he didn't take
all
his responsibilities seriously.

And clearly, she was number one these days.

Kneeling beside her, he counted for her until the instructor had the women roll onto their sides.

“Coaches, now we're going to practice massage techniques. Touch is important at keeping your partner relaxed. Some women feel their contractions in their lower backs. Others gather tension in their necks or between their shoulder blades. They might suffer from cramps in their calves. You'll learn to feel when the muscles knot and take advantage of the breaks between contractions.”

She walked around the room, pausing to give suggestions. Moira had been embarrassed at the idea of Will giving her a back massage, but, honestly, it felt so good from the minute he laid his big hands on her shoulders that she only closed her eyes and sank into bliss.

He seemed to know how much pressure to bring to bear, working his way from her shoulders down her spine to her incessantly aching lower back.

“We'll do this at home, too,” he murmured, kneading more firmly down there.

Moira couldn't help letting a groan escape her.

His hands momentarily went still. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. It felt really good,” she admitted.

“Ah.” After a noticeable pause, he resumed the massage.

The instructor stopped, watched for a moment and said, “Excellent.”

She had already set up a projector, and she gave them the option of sitting on folding chairs or staying on their mats to watch a short film on the progression of labor.
Will looked at Moira, and when she said, “I'm so relaxed now I don't think I
can
get up,” he smiled, helped her sit up and drew her back to lean against him again.

At first she had trouble concentrating on the film. With the lights dimmed, she was even more conscious of being wrapped in his embrace. He held her so securely, one hand splayed on her belly. The baby must like the feeling of his hand there, because he got active. After feeling the movement, Will chuckled quietly and began to rub her stomach. The gentle motion of his hand was astonishingly seductive.

But the film got more and more explicit. Moira found herself tensing up and gaping. When the credits rolled, she whispered, “Oh, my God.”

“
That
was supposed to reassure us?” he said.

“I guess we're supposed to go into this knowing what to expect.”

“I'd rather not, thanks.”

His obvious shock lessened hers to the point where she could laugh. “Too late.”

Will gave her a dark look, then hoisted her to her feet. Moira staggered on legs that felt as if they'd gone to sleep, and tipped against him. Once again, he enfolded her in his arms as if that's where she belonged.

Increasingly, she wished that was true. Wished they hadn't gotten married only because they'd accidentally made a baby together.

But it could be more. Couldn't it? Will had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the marriage as well as into impending fatherhood. If she did the same, they might make something of this. Maybe their marriage would never be the love match Charlotte and Gray had, but they could be happy. Moira wanted to believe it was possible.

They were both quiet walking out to the car. They
were halfway home when Will said thoughtfully, “Do you suppose the baby will come early?”

“Dr. Engel didn't say anything.”

“No.” He'd accompanied her to her appointment today.

“I just can't imagine you, a month from now…”

She couldn't, either. “If I'm a hippopotamus now, what will I be then?”

He chuckled and reached out to take her hand. “To tell you the truth, I've been thinking pygmy goat.”

Moira faked indignation. “Wow, that's flattering!”

Will laughed again. “I happen to think they're cute.”

When he said things like that, she got this warm flutter inside. She hoped, so much, that he meant it. If he really did like her, if he really
was
attracted to her, then maybe there was hope.

He was going to work with her tomorrow, as she had a couple of construction sites to visit. Both were on flat ground and were nearby, but he had insisted anyway, and Moira wasn't going to argue. His presence was reassuring in a way she didn't want to examine too closely. On the way into the house, they talked about her schedule. Then she said, “I think I'm going straight to bed.”

Will nodded. “I'll probably read for a while.”

The most awkward part of this whole marriage business was saying good-night. Tonight was no different. She wondered if he ever thought about kissing her. She knew that he always had the same expression on his face when he watched her turn to go down the hall, or when they parted outside their bedroom doors. It was…pensive. He was thinking really hard about something. He always stood where he was until she went into her room. A couple of times this week, she'd glanced back, to find his eyes on her.

Tonight she couldn't resist. One hand on the doorknob,
she looked back. He was standing by the kitchen, one shoulder propped against the wall, his hands in his pockets. When their gazes met, Will didn't move, not a muscle, but although he gave the impression of being relaxed she somehow knew he wasn't at all. She'd have sworn his eyes had darkened. The air between them all but shimmered with tension. Moira found she was breathing hard when she slipped inside her room and closed the door behind her.

Maybe a man
could
lust after a very pregnant woman.

Or maybe she only wished Will could. Was.

It took her longer than usual to fall asleep. She kept listening for his footsteps or the bathroom door opening or closing and not hearing either. The baby decided this was an excellent time for some gymnastics.

She hadn't looked at the clock and didn't know how long it was before she had to go to the bathroom again. A half hour at least. She was getting back into bed when she finally heard Will's footsteps in the hall.

Sleep kept eluding her. Fifteen minutes later, sighing, she got up again. She hadn't had anything to drink all evening. She couldn't possibly have to pee again! But once she started thinking maybe she did, she couldn't get the idea out of her mind until she gave up and went to the bathroom.

As she was pulling up her nightgown, she thought she felt a damp spot in back. Alarm quickened in her. That was bizarre. She couldn't have wet herself in bed without realizing it, could she?