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Authors: Susan R. Hughes

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction

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BOOK: Wine & Roses
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“You mean because he told you he’s not ready to think about marriage and kids?”

Abby nodded. “If he’s not ready for a family, then fine, I understand that. But someday he will be, and when that day comes, like you said, I won’t fit the bill.”

Marguerite gave her friend’s arm a compassionate squeeze, her voice softening. “Then think about what you really want, and go from there.”

“I don’t know, Marguerite.” Abby shook her head, feeling her heart constrict as she gave voice to the uncertainty that had been gnawing at her. “I have to wonder, did I stay with Colin all those years because I liked having my freedom, and it gave me an excuse to not deal with a real, close relationship? Am I just as commitment-phobic as Jason?”

Marguerite lifted her shoulders in a brief shrug. “I wish I could tell you. Better get on that plane. Call me when you get there.”

“Right. See you in a few weeks.” Pulling her friend into a warm hug, Abby hitched her bag onto her shoulder and headed through the gate.

 

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

 

“Any chance you’re pregnant?” Dr. Chang inquired matter-of-factly, in the midst of pressing his fingers to either side of Abby’s throat, just under her jaw, to examine her lymph glands.

Abby gave a jolt, her heels banging against the metal side of the exam table. “No. Of course not,” she said, aghast at the suggestion. “There was only one time, and I’m over forty. And besides, I tried for years with Colin and nothing ever happened. Of course I’m not pregnant.”

“Did you use any kind of birth control that one time?” the doctor asked, unfazed.

“Not exactly,” she admitted.

“And you’ve been feeling fatigued and dizzy the last couple of weeks?”

“Yes, but like I said, I’ve been on a book-signing tour,” Abby said, eager to dispel the notion from his mind. “I’m just run down.”

It was true; she’d been on the road for weeks, shaking hundreds of hands and making small talk until she was exhausted. Since arriving home, she’d continued to feel unwell, suspecting she’d picked up a virus during her travels.

“And your last period was over six weeks ago?”

“But I’ve been pretty irregular for the last few years,” Abby pointed out, irritated that he’d continue on this tack. Having been her physician for years, Dr. Chang knew her medical history. “You said yourself that it was perimenopause.”

The doctor regarded her levelly over his half-moon glasses, his expression unreadable. Though he was only a few years older than Abby, he possessed an air of authority that she rarely questioned. “But you can still get pregnant. It’s not highly likely, but still possible. As for Colin … you and I both know he never had any fertility testing.” A tilt of his eyebrow intimated his opinion of Colin’s stubborn refusal to do so.

“I really don’t think I’m pregnant,” she insisted, though as her certainty began to slip, she felt her insides begin to quaver.

“Do you have any other unusual symptoms? Tender breasts? Nausea? Frequent urination?”

“I … I don’t know.” Abby recalled with alarm that her breasts had felt a bit swollen in the last few days, but she’d assumed it was a symptom of PMS. And despite having used the toilet just before entering the exam room, she felt like she had to pee again.

Seeing the realization dawn in her face, Dr. Chang gave a curt nod. “The bloodwork will tell us for sure. Go down to the lab now, and I should have the results for you tomorrow.” Offering a small smile of reassurance, he handed her a requisition form.

Abby slid off the table, feeling dazed, her fingers strangely numb as she took the sheet of paper. “All right. Thanks.”

Alone in the elevator as it descended toward the ground floor of the medical building, Abby felt a wave of vertigo wash over her, and she clung to the railing as it passed. She pressed a palm to her belly, as though she could somehow feel whether a tiny person—a
baby
— might be growing there. But surely not. Wishful thinking had persuaded her too many times during her marriage that she was pregnant, her mind inventing symptoms that weren’t really there; she’d taken so many home pregnancy tests, all of them turning out negative, that she couldn’t let herself believe it was possible now.

No, she would find out tomorrow that Dr. Chang was wrong, and everything would return to the way it was.

 

* * *

The phone rang as Abby was scrubbing her kitchen floor, the last of the chores with which she’d been keeping herself occupied since early that morning. She leaned her mop against the counter, her heart thumping heavily.
Here goes.
Drawing a deep breath, she grabbed the phone with trembling fingers.

“Abby, it’s Dr. Chang,” the doctor’s familiar deep-toned voice greeted her. “How are you?”

“Going insane. Do you have the results?”

“Yes. You are pregnant.”

Abby’s already-rapid heartbeat picked up its pace, thundering in her ears. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely.”

She didn’t reply, her breath hitching in her chest as she sank onto the sofa.

“Are you going to be all right?” Dr. Chang asked.

After a pause to catch her breath, Abby replied, “I’m a little shocked, but I’ll be okay.”

“Come back and see me tomorrow, and we can talk,” the doctor instructed. “I’d like to refer you to an obstetrician right away. Take care of yourself, Abby.”

“Thank you for getting back to me so quickly, Dr. Chang.”

As she set down the phone, her fingers tingled with numbness. She sank back against the sofa cushions, willing her racing pulse to ease its pace.

So, she was carrying Jason’s child. It was the last thing she’d expected to happen, and she wasn’t quite ready to accept the fact that she wasn’t in the middle of some long, bizarre dream.

To help herself absorb the reality of it, she counted the considerations on her fingers. One, she and Jason weren’t married and hadn’t been together very long. Two, she was over forty, starting her family uncommonly late in life. Three, she was completely unprepared.

Yet even with the timing bad and the outcome uncertain, as she sat in the stillness Abby felt a well of happiness bubble up within her. She had long ago resigned herself to the fact that she’d never be a mother. The pain of that reality had eased as she came to accept it, but the burning desire for a child that had consumed her for nearly a decade had never really been extinguished.

I’m having a baby.
A smile curved her lips. It seemed like a miracle. Thinking back to the night she conceived, and the odd events that had led to it, Abby was tempted to imagine the spirit of Rebecca Norris somehow had a hand in the pregnancy. But she quickly brushed off the notion as foolish fantasy; Dr. Chang had suggested many times that Colin might be the cause of her inability to conceive, and obviously the doctor had been right.

A surge of anger extinguished her smile as she recalled Colin’s obstinate refusal to even consider the suggestion that he was at fault. Then again, would it have been fair to a child to bring it into a marriage like theirs?

Never mind the past—this baby was Jason’s, and he’d have to be told. Anxiety swept through Abby as she imagined breaking the news to him. Their relationship was so new, and he’d made it clear that he didn’t want to be married anytime soon, or start a family. How would he react to learning he was to become a father by early spring?

The phone rang again, jolting Abby from her thoughts. She considered letting her voice mail pick up the call, until she glanced at the call display, seeing a long distance number.

Jason.

She let it ring a few times before picking up the receiver and greeting him with the most ordinary-sounding voice she could summon.

“Hello, Abby,” he replied brightly. “I see you made it home all right. Is it good to be back?”

The rich tone of his voice blanketed her in an instant sense of reassurance. “Yeah, it was quite a hectic trip. I’m looking forward to a bit of time to relax, before I start writing again.”

“Starting a new book? That’s great. You’ve got a plot worked out?”

“Somewhat.” She hoped he wouldn’t ask her what it was about; her mind was too occupied with the news of her pregnancy to remember much of the outline she’d scribbled in her notebook during quiet evenings in hotel rooms.

“You don’t sound quite like yourself,” Jason remarked instead. “Is something wrong?”

Abby hesitated; he was more perceptive than she gave him credit for. She couldn’t tell him about the baby, not over the phone, with an ocean between them. She wanted to see his reaction in person, and to read his feelings in his expression.

“I haven’t been feeling well,” she admitted.

“A long trip will do that to you.”

“How about you?” she asked. “How’s France?”

“Beautiful. The vineyards are incredible. But I wish you were here with me.”

“Me, too.” Abby smiled as his words warmed her. Still, she didn’t think she could keep up the conversation for long without tipping him off that something was going on. “Can you call me back later? I’d like to lie down.”

“Sure. I’m headed out for dinner now, but I’ll try to call you tomorrow.”

“Sounds fine.”

“I’ll be home in three days. I can’t wait to see you, Abby.”

“Same here. I miss you, Jason.”
I love you
, she added silently, not quite able to summon the words to her lips. After all, though he’d hinted at falling in love with her, he’d never said the words to her directly, even the night they made love. She had to wonder what was holding him back.

“I miss you, too,” he said, before saying goodbye, and Abby’s heart dipped a little. If they were in love, why could neither of them say so? She’d been in no hurry for sentiments or promises, but things were different now. She couldn’t afford patience. It was a complicated matter to have a baby when the parents weren’t in love—and nothing less than agonizing if only one of them was.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

“You’re pregnant?” Marguerite stared at her, agape. “Are you sure?”

Abby nodded solemnly. It had taken twenty minutes of sitting stiffly on her porch swing, sipping iced tea and listening to Marguerite prattle on about the tragic closing of her favourite spa, before she finally mustered the nerve to spill her secret.

Marguerite eyed her speculatively. “I thought you looked run-down and a little green about the gills, but this is … it’s … wow.”

“That about sums it up.” Abby offered a wan smile. Then a sudden wave of vertigo swept over her; it was a sensation she’d been getting used to over the last couple of days. “Oh, I don’t feel very well.”

“Poor thing.” Glancing down at the empty glass in Abby’s hand, Marguerite snatched it from her, jumping up from the swing. “I’ll get you some water.”

“Thanks,” Abby muttered, although the idea of consuming another beverage was less than appealing when she already had to pee.

Marguerite returned momentarily with the full glass of water, handing it to Abby. “How do you feel about this?” she asked, nudging the swing into motion as she settled back onto it.

“I’m still getting over the shock, I suppose.” Abby closed her eyes briefly as the gentle swaying made her stomach lurch. “I’d accepted the fact that I’d never have children. Now I’m going to be a mother after all, at my age.”

“Have you told Jason?”

She shook her head. “Not yet. I spoke to him on the phone a couple of times, but I didn’t want to tell him that way. I just don’t know how he’s going to react.”

Marguerite paused for a moment, as though carefully formulating her next words. “Abby, forgive me for asking, but are you sure you want to have this baby?”

Startled by the question, Abby pressed her hand protectively to her belly. “How can you say that? This is probably my one chance to have a child. This baby is practically a miracle. I’d never consider not having it.”

“In that case,” Marguerite went on, “someone as wealthy as Jason should be able to take good care of you. Make sure you nail down a generous support agreement.”

Abby heaved a sigh before replying in a patient tone; though Marguerite was trying to be supportive, she just kept missing the mark. “I don’t
need
his money. I’ve got plenty of my own. What I need is a father for this baby. I need his love and support, and not just in terms of raising our child. I need him for myself.”

“Do you see yourself married to this guy?” Marguerite wondered.

“I
do
see it,” Abby said, her voice impassioned. “After two decades with Colin I never thought I’d want to give myself to someone the way I have with Jason.” Giving herself to Jason, she realized, wasn’t just about the physical intimacy of their relationship; it was about trusting him and needing him, and giving him cause to trust and need her in return. Along with their physical closeness had formed an emotional bond that neither of them had expected or thought they wanted. But Abby wanted it now, more than anything. “What I said at the airport, about being afraid of commitment—that might have been true at one time, but since I’ve been with Jason, I have a hard time picturing my life without him in it.”

BOOK: Wine & Roses
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