A Baby by Easter (7 page)

“Davy?” Darla shut off the television. “Can I talk to you?”

“Of course. You can always talk to me.” He patted the sofa and waited for her to curl up beside him. “What's up?”

“I was wondering who will be the daddy for Susannah's baby.”

“Umm, what makes you ask, honey?” he sidestepped.

“Well, today I saw her watching a little boy when we were in the park. What if her baby is a boy? Boys need daddies to play with them and teach them stuff that mommies can't.” Darla's nose scrunched up as she mulled over the problem.

“Well, maybe the father will come when the baby's born.”

But Darla shook her head.

“Nope. His name was Nick and he died. I heard Aunt Connie telling Uncle Wade. He was a scoun—” She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to recall the word, but finally gave up. “I can't remember,” she finally admitted.

The baby's father was dead—meaning there was no chance for Susannah to get support from him, financially or otherwise. And he
was
a scoundrel, David thought as his back teeth clenched.

You're not getting involved. You don't need any more responsibilities.
“
Scoundrel.
I think he was a bad man,” Darla continued. “Don't you?”

“I don't know.” He shouldn't even be listening to this, but David was curious. More curious than he should have been.

“I don't think a nice man would tell Susannah to get
out. That's mean.” Darla snuggled up to him. “She let me touch her tummy where the baby is growing.”

“Oh.” David smoothed her hair. Was it wrong to talk about this? He found himself eager to hear every detail about the beautiful blonde and her child. Maybe because he felt he'd never have his own child.

“Susannah said she doesn't know anything about how to be a mommy,” Darla said. “But I think she'll be a good mother. She's really nice to me, even when I'm not nice.”

“I think Susannah's nice, too, Dar.” Wasn't that an understatement.

He kissed the top of her head, surprised when she jumped up. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To make some popcorn. I'm hungry.” She scurried away in her jeans and bright red shirt, her bare feet slapping against the hardwood.

David could count on one hand the evenings they'd shared like this before Susannah. Evenings were usually a battle zone, but since Connie's friend had shown up Darla was more like her old self. Susannah was doing amazing work.

His mind suddenly replayed what Darla had told him.

So this Nick had told Susannah to get out? Knowing she was pregnant?

No wonder she sometimes seemed like a glass ornament, brittle and ready to shatter. Her tough veneer was just a facade, perhaps to shield herself from being hurt again. Connie had hinted at something in her past. Something ugly.

But David wasn't going to get involved.

Keep telling yourself that.

He had to. Though David felt a rush of relief that no
bitter, angry boyfriend or husband was likely to come after Susannah, though he was glad that she and Darla would be safe from that, and though he was also grateful for the progress she was making with his sister—well, the rest of it was her life.

And none of his business.

“What are you thinking about, Davy?” Darla flopped at his feet, her cheeks bulging with popcorn.

He snatched one of the fluffy white bits and popped it into his mouth.

“I'm thinking about buying a different car for you and Susannah to use.”

“Good. Susannah will be glad, too,” Darla told him. “She says the seat hurts her back. And she has to sit on a cushion to see.”

The things you could learn if you only paid attention.

“Davy?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you think about something else now?” Darla said, her brown eyes on him, sizing him up.

“What's that?” He was half-afraid to ask.

“I don't want to go to girls' club anymore. I'm too big.” She thrust her feet in front of her and stared at her poppy-red toenails.

“Okay. I'll tell them you won't be coming.” He waited, knowing Darla was forming another thought.

“Do you think I'm too dumb to swim, Davy?”

He might have known.

“What do you think?”

“I don't know. At first I was scared to try, but Susannah says new things often scare us but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try them.” Darla stared at him quizzically.
“Do you think I can learn to not be afraid in the water, Davy?” The yearning in her voice was his undoing.

“I think you're very smart. I think that if you try hard, listen to the teacher and don't get frustrated, you can do a whole lot of things you never thought you could do,” he said with certainty.

“I think maybe I can, too,” she whispered. And then she grinned at him and held up her hand for a high five.

“I'll check on lessons tomorrow,” he promised.

“Good. Because I don't like watching when my class goes swimming.” Suddenly her eyes danced with excitement. “I'm going to surprise them when I swim right to the other end of the big pool!”

David could hardly believe the transformation in his sister.

What a difference Susannah Wells had made in their lives.

David wasn't going to get involved in her life, but that didn't have to stop him from praying that God would help her.

Her and her baby.

The beginning of a family.

He shut down that thought. A family was the one thing he couldn't have. He knew that wasn't God's plan for his life and had accepted it.

No point in dwelling on the impossible.

“T
here are tons of flowers,” Darla burbled, her voice rising. “And you know what else they had at the botanical garden?”

“No. What?”

On Friday afternoon Susannah drove the almost-new station wagon away from the school with a light heart. It was so much easier to handle than David's other car. She had no idea what had prompted him to change vehicles, but she was glad of it.

“There's a butterfly room. It's a special glass room with plants and fish and stuff, and butterflies live there. They came and sat on me!” Darla rushed on, enthusiastic about her latest school trip.

Susannah let her talk as they drove home, knowing that she needed to spill all the things that were tumbling around in her head. They were still bubbling over when David arrived.

“Can we go back tomorrow, Davy? I want to show you the butterflies.”

“I'm sorry, Dar, I can't. Tomorrow's my day for my boys.” He turned to Susannah. “Actually I was going to ask you if you could come tomorrow. I'm big brother to
three boys and we do something special once a month. Tomorrow it's a hockey game in Phoenix. I just got the tickets.”

Big brother? David? Surprise kept her silent.

“Darla doesn't like hockey so she doesn't want to come. Do you have other plans, Susannah?” he asked.

He was always so polite, yet somehow distant. As if he didn't want to get too involved in her world. Not that Susannah blamed him. Her world was messed up.

“Susannah?” Darla poked her in the arm. “Are you sick?”

“No.” She smiled to ease Darla's worried expression. “I was just thinking that I'd like to see your botanical gardens tomorrow. I should see some of the sights while I'm here.”

“Are you thinking of leaving Tucson?” David suddenly seemed to stumble over his words. “Not that you owe me any answers. But I would like a bit of notice to find someone else to stay with Darla.”

“I don't want you to go away, Susannah.” Darla's face darkened. Her hands fisted at her sides and her body stiffened. “You can't go.”

“I never said I was going anywhere right now,” Susannah reminded quietly. “But if I had to leave, I hope you would wish me the best.”

Darla thought about it for several moments. Finally the anger drained away and her sunny smile flashed again.

“I would,” she agreed, winding her arm around Susannah's waist. She leaned her head on her shoulder. “You're my best friend, and I like doing things with you. Please stay.” She glanced over one shoulder at David before she leaned near to whisper, “I want to see your baby when it's born.”

Susannah flushed. David would not want to hear that. He might be glad she was here to watch Darla, but Susannah didn't need him to say out loud how much he disapproved of her. It was evident in the distant way he acted.

“The baby won't be here for a long time,” Susannah murmured, with a quick peek at his face. It was hard to read anything in those inscrutable eyes. “So how about I go with you tomorrow and see those butterflies? They sound fun.”

“They are.” Darla once more launched into a description that lasted until Mrs. Peters came to say good-night and reminded them of the potluck supper at church.

“I forgot all about that supper. Go change, Dar.” David waited until she ran up the stairs, then beckoned to Susannah to follow him to the kitchen. “I've wanted to hear tonight's speaker for a long time. He worked on a mission in the Amazon.”

“You know the Amazon?”

“I took a trip there with Wade and Jared just after we all finished college.” He smiled. A certain wistfulness tinged his voice. “It was amazing. Unfortunately we had to leave early.”

Was that when his father had died? She hated to ask and bring up painful memories.

“You never went back?” she asked.

“Haven't had time so far.” He pulled an envelope out of a drawer and handed it to her. “This is yours.”

“What's this?” she asked, confused when she saw the money tucked inside. “You already paid me for the last two weeks.”

“Wages, yes. That's for incidentals. Like gas for the car, the botanical garden tomorrow and the numerous ice creams and other treats my sister seems to inhale. I never
expected you to pay for them, Susannah. I just didn't think about it until Darla reminded me.” He glanced once at her midsection. “I'm sure you're trying to save—for the baby, I mean.”

“I am, but it doesn't seem right to take this.” Susannah set the envelope on the table. “You already pay me very well for doing almost nothing.”

“Nothing?” He said with incredulity. “It's a lot more than nothing to me. It's been ages since I've been so caught up at work.”

“Oh, good.” She blushed under his praise.

“It means a great deal to me to know Darla's safe and happy under your care, Susannah. And she's learning, too. Take it. Please.” He handed her the envelope again. “You'll get the same every week. And if you need more for some activity, please tell me.”

“Well—thank you.” She tucked it into her bag while mentally calculating how much more she'd need to save before she could get the sonogram the doctor had recommended.

An awkward silence yawned.

“Are you feeling all right? She's not too much for you?” David asked in a careful voice.

“I'm fine. Darla's wonderful. She goes out of her way to watch out for me,” Susannah told him. “She's always bringing me a cushion or a glass of water. She fusses too much. She shouldn't waste her attention on me.”

He'd been packing items into a cooler, but he stopped and turned to study her, his brow furrowed.

“Waste?” He shook his head. “Darla loves you.”

“She shouldn't.”

“Why?” His eyes were wide with surprise.

“You wouldn't understand,” she murmured, trying to think up some way to get out of this conversation.

“Because you think I've had the perfect life?” His dark eyes flashed with intensity. “I'm a spoiled rich kid because I never went through foster care like you and Connie?”

“No.” She did meet his stare. “I don't believe anyone has a perfect life. No one I know anyway.”

“Then?” He stood where he was, waiting, palms up, for some answer.

“Look, you had your life mapped out in front of you and you followed that map.” It frustrated her to have to put into words what hurt so deeply. “You weren't like me. You didn't mess up over and over. Your choices were smart. Mine weren't.”

“But you were a kid and that was ages ago,” he said. “You've changed.”

“Have I? I hope so. But the results of my stupid decisions live on,” she said, laying a hand over her stomach as if she could protect her baby. “They're certainly not the decisions a mother wants to tell her child.”

“Susannah, that's ridiculous. Everyone makes mistakes—”

“You didn't,” she said, daring him to contradict.

“I'm ready.” Darla stood in the doorway, her smile fading. “Are you arguing?” she asked, her voice worried.

“No. Just discussing.” David touched her nose. “You look very pretty,” he complimented.

“It's the same color as Susannah's shirt,” she said proudly. “We both like pink.”

Susannah's heart lifted, as it always did in the presence of this lovely girl. “Connie made this shirt. She's decided she is going to sew me a whole new wardrobe and she won't take no for an answer.”

“Connie's like Davy.” Darla peeked through her lashes at her big brother. “He doesn't take no, either.”

“Hey! No dissing me.” He smiled at Susannah. “You look very nice.”

“Thank you.” She fought to keep from blushing again, but that didn't stop her heart from bouncing with pleasure at the compliment. How stupid was that—to be glad a man who looked down on you thought you looked nice? Pregnancy was fooling with her brain.

“Darla, why don't you go put on your coat?” David said. When she'd left, he turned to Susannah. “Would you like to come to the potluck with us?” he asked as he closed the lid on the cooler. “I'm sure the presentation will be worth seeing.”

“Go with you?” Susannah didn't understand for a moment. “Oh, you mean to watch her? Sure, I—”

“No, that's okay—Darla will be fine. I meant would you like to come to the potluck supper and presentation with Darla and me.” He leaned back against the granite counter and waited, lips tilted up in a quirky smile.

Susannah debated. It might be okay for tonight, but later, when the baby was showing more, everyone would wonder. Maybe the speculation would ruin his business and then she'd be responsible…but she was tired of hiding out at Connie's or the mall.

“I didn't realize it was such a major decision,” he chuckled.

“I would like to go,” she said so fast her tongue couldn't rescind it. “Thank you very much.”

“You're welcome.” Just for a second, he gazed at her in a way that made her face feel warm. Then his attention moved to his sister as she came back into the room. “Ready?” he asked.

“Yes. I put the soda in the trunk,” Darla told him. She
giggled as she told Susannah, “Davy bought root beer for his boys to have when they visit, but they don't like it. Neither do I,” she said, her nose wrinkling. “We're taking it to the potluck.”

“And if they don't like it, they can pass it on,” David said, urging them toward the car. “I'm sick of looking at those cases taking up room in the garage.” He stowed the cooler, then held the car doors while Darla and Susannah climbed inside. Once seated, he grinned at her. “Just one of the bad choices
I've
made,” he said as they pulled out of the driveway and headed toward the church.

“What about that man you hired to put the carpet in your office?” Darla asked.

David winced. “Okay, two bad choices,” he admitted. “He was the worst carpet layer I've ever seen. Can we let it go?”

But Darla was beginning to enjoy herself and Susannah was, too.

“Mrs. Peter's Christmas sweater?” Darla giggled.

“I didn't know she was allergic to cashmere!” he protested.

“Asking Mr. Hornby to fix the mess you made in the garden?” Darla laughed out loud at the chagrin on his face.

“He wasn't supposed to do it all at once.” David's pained look spoke volumes. “I wasn't trying to kill him.” Darla laughed until they pulled into the church parking lot.

“What about the cat?” she asked, ignoring his groan.

When David refused to answer, Susannah asked Darla, “What about a cat?”

“He got me a gift. A sweet cat, all white. I called her Snow White 'cause she loved to sleep.” Darla's face
softened, her dark eyes began to glow. “Davy
said
she was a special cat, that she'd be my best friend. That was when I was really sick. I had to stay home and I hurt a lot. Holding Snow White made me feel better.”

They'd arrived at the church. David climbed out of the car, but after one look at Darla's face, he shook his head and left them to carry the cooler into the church. Susannah nudged the girl's arm.

“What happened?” This she had to hear.

“Well, Snow White ran away a whole bunch of times. If Mrs. Peter's opened the door, that cat would race outside and she didn't come back.” Darla frowned. “I didn't hurt her or anything.”

“I know you wouldn't do that,” Susannah assured her.

“No, I wouldn't,” Darla huffed. “Well, every time Snow White would run away, Davy would go and look for her. Sometimes it took a long time and I could hear him calling and calling. But he always brought her home. Except one night.”

Surely the poor thing hadn't been hurt? Susannah bit her lip. She had a special affection for cats, honed by years of sitting in the barn on her foster family's farm, crying over her mother's refusal to answer her letters.

“It's okay, Susannah, you don't have to be sad.” Darla bent her head trying to see into Susannah's eyes. “It's not bad,” she rushed to reassure.

“You'd better explain, Dar. I can see she already thinks the worst.” David leaned against the car while Darla explained.

“Well, Snow White had babies. She didn't want to stay with me. She just wanted to come to my house and eat so she could feed her babies,” Darla explained. “Mrs. Murphy was away and the boy she hired didn't take care
of Snow White very well so Snow White had to take care of her family herself.”

“By mooching off of us,” David grumbled.

“When Mrs. Murphy came home and saw Davy picking up Snow White and carrying her away, she got really mad at him. It was her cat, you see. She called the police and she followed him home. She was yelling and her face was all red.”

“How was I supposed to know it was her cat? I didn't even know the woman, let alone that she had a cat.” Obviously disgruntled, David picked a fuzz ball off his sweater. “It was wandering around, yowling all the time. I thought we could give it a home. I paid over a hundred dollars for shots for that animal.”

“That's okay, Davy. Snow White was grateful.” Darla patted his arm.

“Well, Mrs. Murphy wasn't.” His averted his face. “Calling the police on me was a bit extreme.”

“Yes, that must have been—er—challenging.” Susannah struggled to suppress her mirth.

“Snow White scratched Davy and tore his pants. Then Mrs. Murphy hit him with a broom.” Darla reached out and touched him. “I'm sorry, Davy.”

“So am I,” David said in an aggrieved tone. “I fed that great hulking thing fresh fish for two weeks and neither that cat nor her mistress said thank you even once.”

“Snow White still comes over for a visit sometimes,” Darla interjected. “But not if Davy's home.”

“And don't think I'm unhappy about that.” He gave a snort of derision.