The Mountain Between Us (10 page)

“I just say I'm from Eureka,” Bob said. “If you have to slap a label on yourself, you probably aren't anything.”

“Why ghost stories?” D. J. asked.

No one had asked him to butt in. Olivia wouldn't have answered the question at all, except Jameso took it up. “Yeah, why ghost stories?”

“Because it's Halloween.” Shouldn't that be obvious? “Ghosts are traditional.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Bob asked.

“You don't have to believe in them to think they're fun,” she said.

“I believe in them,” D. J. said. “And I don't think they're particularly fun.”

His serious tone unnerved her. “When did you ever see a ghost?” she asked.

“I'm not talking about spirits in white sheets.” His eyes met hers, bottomless brown and filled with a sadness that dragged at her like grasping fingers. “We all have things that haunt us.”

She turned away, not wanting him to see the truth in her eyes. He couldn't know the things that haunted her—ghosts from the past she feared would never leave.

And those she feared would.

The ultrasound suite at the medical office building was painted a pale yellow, with a wallpaper border of zoo animals. The room was tiny, barely eight feet by eight feet, and Jameso paced relentlessly from one end to the other and back again.

“Will you please stop?” Maggie said. “You're making me more nervous than I already am.”

“I can't help it.” He halted and shoved both hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I've never done anything like this before.”

“Well, neither have I.” She squirmed. “When is that damned technician going to get in here?”

“A little testy, aren't you?”

“You would be, too, if they made you drink a quart of water, then wouldn't let you pee.”

“Maybe I can distract you.” He moved in as if to kiss her.

“Touch me and I'll pee all over you.”

He drew back as the door opened and a very large woman in a hot pink smock wheeled in a table with a squat monitor. “Time for the baby's first pictures,” she announced.

She raised the head of the table, pushed Maggie gently back, lifted the hospital gown Maggie wore, and squirted what felt like half a gallon of warm gel on her stomach. Jameso discreetly studied the charts on the wall, which depicted stages of fetal development. In the one labeled six weeks the fetus was a bean floating in a balloon-shaped stomach.

“Okay, Dad. It's safe to turn around,” the technician announced. “Come stand over here by Mom so you can see the monitor.”

Jameso did as he was told. “Where y'all from?” the technician asked as she fiddled with knobs on the machine.

“Eureka,” Jameso said.

“Oh, y'all been in the news. The town lost all its money to bad investments. Have you gotten any of it back yet?”

“Not yet,” Jameso said.

“Guess y'all gone have to send everybody up in the hills with a pick and shovel to see if you can get anything out of those gold mines. I hear there's a lot of 'em up that way.”

Jameso exchanged an amused glance with Maggie. “We'll make that suggestion to the town council.”

“Send some of that gold my way if you find any. Okay, Mom, lie back and let's take a look-see at this baby.”

As the technician traced a wand over her belly, Maggie suppressed a giggle. “That tickles.”

The technician smiled. “That's what I love about this part of my job. It makes people happy.”

A shadow passed across the screen. “What's that?” Jameso asked.

“That is your baby's head.” She adjusted a knob, moved the wand, and a bean-shaped shadow swam into view. Maggie stared, mouth open in amazement, as the shadow moved and pulsed.

“You can see its heart.” Jameso spoke in an awed whisper.

“And there's its hands and feet.” So tiny, but she could see the beginnings of fingers and toes.

Something squeezed her fingers. She realized Jameso was holding her hand. She squeezed back, happier than she'd thought she could be that he was here to share this moment with her.

“Let's snap you a picture to take home and show everybody.” The technician hit a button on the machine. “None of them will know what they're looking at, but most folks are polite about it and will ooh and aah for your benefit.”

She retrieved the black and white photograph from the machine and handed it to Jameso. “They're good to put in the baby book, if nothing else. You can freak out the kid with them when he's older.”

“You can tell it's a boy?” Jameso asked.

“Do you see a penis in that picture? No, I cannot tell it's a boy. It might be a girl. A few more months we might be able to tell, if the baby cooperates and agrees to show us what's between its legs. In the meantime, just refer to it as ‘the baby.' ”

He nodded, still staring at the pictures.

“All right. I'll leave you to clean up and get dressed. Then I believe Mom is due for some blood work at the lab down the hall. And the restroom is right there through the door.”

Maggie bolted for the facilities before the technician had even cleared the room. She returned a few moments later, feeling much better. “Apparently, I no longer have a name,” she said as she pulled a sweater over her head. “I have a feeling I'm going to be ‘Mom' for the rest of the pregnancy.”

“That's not so bad, is it?” He handed her her jeans.

“I guess not. I'm still getting used to the idea.” She stepped into the pants and pulled up the zipper.

“Me too. When she said ‘Dad,' it took me a second to realize she was talking to me.”

Maggie stared at the ultrasound photo. “This is really happening.”

“Yeah, it really is.” He sucked in a deep breath. “I hope I'm ready for this.”

“I'm not sure anyone is ever really ready. But we'll do okay.”

“At least you're going to have the fanciest nursery in Eureka County. Barb sent me more drawings yesterday. I have to put in a dozen electrical outlets and then stuff these plastic stoppers in all of them to baby-proof them. I told her it was too many outlets and she told me the baby needed them for monitors and diaper warmers and a ton of other electronic crap.”

“Better to humor her,” Maggie said. She stepped into her boots and bent to lace them. How many months before she wasn't able to do that anymore?

“Funny . . . that's what she told me about you.”

“She told you to humor me?

He nodded. “She said you were in charge now and whatever you wanted, I should get, whether it was ice cream in the middle of January or rabbit fur slippers in June.”

“Oh, please. That's ridiculous. You aren't my slave.” Though the image of him dressed in nothing but a loincloth, ready to do her bidding, did have a certain appeal....

“What are you smiling about?”

Her eyes met his. “Apparently, being pregnant makes me horny.”

“It does?” He moved in closer. “Then maybe you shouldn't have gotten dressed.”

“Jameso!” She pushed him away. “We're in an examining room. There are probably cameras. Not to mention someone will wonder if we don't leave soon.”

“You're right. That table doesn't look very comfortable. But hold that thought until we get home.”

“Aren't you supposed to be at work this afternoon?” She slung her purse over her shoulder and headed for the door.

“Olivia will cover for me if I'm a little late.”

“You're incorrigible.”

“Yes, and it's why you love me. Besides, you started it.”

“No, you started it. That first night on my father's porch.”

“You wanted to hit me over the head with a stick of firewood.” He opened the door and they started down the hall toward the lab.

“I thought you were one of the most infuriating men I'd ever met.”

“You still think that.”

“Yes, I do. But you're never boring. For that, I'm thankful.”

They stopped in front of the lab. “Today was nice,” she said. “I'm glad you came with me.”

“I wouldn't have missed this for the world.” He held the picture out in front of him. “The debut of baby bean.”

“I think you're holding it upside down.”

He flipped the picture around. “How can you tell?”

“I think that's the head.” She pointed at a dark space on the image.

“Maybe he has a big stomach.” He held it out again. “I should pin this up at the bar. It's never too early to start showing off my progeny.”

“Don't. I won't have all the barflies making fun of my bean.”

He slipped his arm around her. “I'm probably going to screw up this fatherhood thing from time to time,” he said. “But I'm going to do my best. I'm serious about that.”

She rested her hand on his chest. His heart beat strong beneath her fingers. “Just be here. That's really all you have to do.”

“I'm here.”

That was all that mattered. He was here right now. She'd hold on to that and not worry about the future.

 

“What are you going to be for Halloween?” Olivia asked Lucas when she got off work on the 31st.

“Nothing.”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“Costumes are for little kids.”

“Tell that to all the adults who'll be in costume at the Dirty Sally tonight.”

“You're not working tonight, are you?”

“No, but since you're going to your friend's house, I thought I'd stop by the saloon to hear the ghost-story competition. But I'll be home in plenty of time to know if you make your curfew.”

He squinched up his nose as if he'd smelled something foul. “I don't see why I have to have a curfew on Halloween.”

“Still, you have one, so don't forget it. What time does the party start?”

“Six thirty.”

“Do you need me to give you a ride?”

“Nah, I'll take my bike.” He pushed his chair back from the table. “I'd better go get ready.”

Thirty minutes later, he bounded down the stairs, an old cape of Lucille's around his shoulders. He'd slicked his hair back with gel and stuck a pair of fake plastic fangs in his mouth. “I decided it would be dumb to show up without a costume,” he said. “Since it's a party and all.”

“Good idea.” She resisted the urge to tell him he looked good. That might be all it took to send him back upstairs to change.

“Bye, Mom.” He raced past, cape billowing behind him. The door slammed in his wake, rattling the glass in the windowpanes. Not that long ago he would have kissed her good-bye; maybe kisses were for babies, too.

The old floors creaked and Lucille came into the room, moving slow. She looked older and thinner, the lighthearted woman who'd dressed up for dates replaced by this careworn figure in an old skirt and cardigan. If Olivia ever met Gerald Pershing in a dark alley someday, he'd wish he'd never been born.

“Was that Lucas I just saw dressed as a vampire?” Lucille asked.

“Yes, he's going to a party at a friend's house. He won't say so, but I think he's pretty excited.”

“He's fitting in well here.” She sat at the kitchen table across from her daughter. “What are your plans for the evening? You should be at a party.”

“I'm going over to the Dirty Sally for the ghost-story competition.”

“I'd forgotten about that.” She looked distracted, turned inward, as she often was these days. “Have a good time.”

“Come with me,” Olivia said.

“Oh, you don't want me tagging along on your night out.”

Not all that long ago, that would have been true. Olivia would have been focused on the men she might meet, and having her mother along would surely cramp her style. But she hadn't seen a man who interested her in Eureka in weeks. “Come on,” she said. “You'll enjoy it. And you can give me the lowdown on who's who among the folks who show up.”

“Oh, I don't know.” Lucille looked around, as if she might find guidance written on the kitchen wall.

“Come on.” Olivia nudged her. “What are you going to do instead? Stay home and beat yourself up a little more?”

“Do I have to have a costume? I could wear a paper bag over my head. The way I feel, that wouldn't be such a bad idea.”

“If you do, I'll wear one, too. We'll be twins.”

That got a chuckle out of her.

Olivia felt a surge of relief. Things weren't so bad if her mother could still laugh. “You'll get through this,” she said. “You've been through worse.”