Debbie Macomber's Cedar Cove Series, Volume 3 (96 page)

It occurred to her that he might want to know about the ultrasound. The nurse who'd scheduled it had told Gloria that she could bring someone with her.

She'd considered asking her birth mother, but Corrie was in North Dakota with Linnette and her new grandson. Otherwise, Corrie would certainly have accompanied her.

But she had to acknowledge that the one person who should be there was Chad. Fingers shaking, she picked up her cell phone and punched the button that would connect her to Chad. A dozen times she'd been tempted to delete his number. She never had. Perhaps she'd secretly wanted to maintain this link.

He answered immediately. “Dr. Timmons.”

“It's Gloria.” Her throat was so dry, she could barely get her name out.

Silence.

“I understand Roy told you…”

“That you're pregnant,” he finished.

“Yes…almost five months.”

Silence again, a tense silence that gnawed at her stomach. “I tried to tell you,” she blurted out. “That day I showed up at the hospital. But you were with this woman and—”

“I remember,” he said, cutting her off.

“How is your…friend?” That was a less than subtle way of asking if he was involved with the other woman.

“That's none of your business.”

Gloria clenched her fist. “Right.”

“Is everything okay with the baby?” His voice remained cool, detached.

He hadn't inquired about
her
. “Everything is normal so far…. I'm having an ultrasound tomorrow at nine.”

“And you're telling me this because…?”

“I thought you should know.” She regretted calling him. Chad's attitude—indifference verging on hostility—was making this nearly impossible.

“Why?”

“The nurse said I could bring someone,” she muttered, feeling foolish.

“You want
me
with you?” His voice softened.

“If possible. I…I realize I didn't give you much notice.”

“I work the early shift on Tuesdays.”

“Oh.” She should've phoned right away….

“I'll do what I can. But I'm not making any promises.”

Her heart rate accelerated. Chad was saying he'd join her if he could—that he wanted to be with her.

“Okay,” she said, and recited the pertinent information.

“At nine,” he repeated.

“Yes, and, Chad, thank you for the books.” She wanted him to know that she was aware those had come from him. He might not care about her, but he cared about his baby, and that gave her courage. She wondered if she would've had the nerve to call him if not for that one small sign.

“Mack told you the books were from me?”

“Not at first. I confronted him about it after Roy admitted he'd talked to you.” Once she'd found out, her emotions had been chaotic for days afterward.

“I have a right to know I'm about to become a father.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “You do.”

“You should never have hidden it from me.” She heard the resentment in his voice; clearly he hadn't yet forgiven her.

“I hope to see you tomorrow,” she said, and before their conversation could deteriorate into a verbal battle, she ended the call. She did understand his reaction to her keeping the pregnancy a secret. The ironic thing was, she'd done it for him. Chad was seeing someone else—still might be, for all she knew. At this point their only bond was the baby, and she didn't feel that an unplanned responsibility, one he hadn't asked for, should interfere with his future or his new relationship.

The next morning Gloria arrived at the ultrasound clinic fifteen minutes early. The waiting area held six chairs, four of which were occupied. Gloria took the fifth one, sat down and picked up a magazine. The couple across from her held hands, while the other couple whispered excitedly.

The two holding hands were called in first. Gloria glanced at the wall clock, figuring Chad probably hadn't been able to get the time off.

Ten minutes later, the assistant called her name. Gloria put down the magazine, which she'd hardly looked at, and stood. She followed the woman out of the waiting area and into an examination room. She was on the table, with her pants unzipped and pulled down and her top raised, when there was a knock on the door. The technician was explaining the procedure and what Gloria could expect to see and not see in the ultrasound. She listened intently but found herself distracted by a feeling of aloneness. A feeling of abandonment, of not mattering
enough
to anyone. The lump in her throat seemed about to choke her—and then the assistant opened the door.

“Dr. Chad Timmons is here. Would it be all right if I sent him in?”

“Yes, please,” Gloria said. To her embarrassment tears filled her eyes and slid down her face. She desperately
wanted to wipe them away but was afraid it would only call attention to the emotion that racked her.

“Come on in,” the technician said. She smiled, greeting Chad. “Pull up a chair and sit down. We're about to get started.”

Chad arranged his chair so he'd have a full view of the screen. The technician spread a cold gel on Gloria's stomach and placed a wandlike device over the small round protrusion that was her baby.

Gloria stared at the screen. She didn't dare look at Chad.

“Did you want to know the sex?” the technician asked.

“Sure,” Gloria answered for them both, then turned to Chad.

“That would be fine,” he said.

“Okay, do you see him?”

“Him?”
Chad asked.

“Oh, it's definitely a him.”

Despite her determination not to look at Chad again, Gloria shifted her head—and saw his broad smile. He glanced at her and she smiled tentatively.

“A girl would make me just as happy,” he murmured.

“Me, too,” she whispered.

The technician continued. “We have ten fingers and ten toes.”

“You're sure that's not another finger you're seeing?” Chad teased.

“Trust me, Daddy, that's no finger.”

Chad laughed, and Gloria relaxed. To her surprise, he reached for her hand in a simple gesture of comfort and sharing. It helped ease the tension between them.

The ultrasound only took a few minutes. The physician would be reviewing it for any abnormalities, but Chad—as a doctor himself—assured Gloria that all looked well.

The technician cleaned the sticky substance off Gloria's abdomen and left the room.

“Have you thought about names?” he asked as she sat up.

“A little…I thought if it was a boy, I'd choose Roy for the middle name.”

Chad nodded.

“Do you have a suggestion for a first name?” she asked, adjusting her clothes.

“DiMaggio.”

“What?” Gloria asked. She couldn't have heard him correctly.

“DiMaggio. After Joe DiMaggio. I'm a big baseball fan.”

“Couldn't we just call him Joe?”

Chad shook his head. “Too boring.”

“I am
not
subjecting our son to a name like DiMaggio. He'll grow up hating us for that. What's your dad's name?” It suddenly occurred to her how little she knew of his life before Cedar Cove, his family, his childhood….

“Robert.”

“Rob Roy. Oh, no.”

“My granddad's name was Simon,” Chad said.

“Simon Roy,” she repeated. “Well, let's think about it.”

“Okay, we'll do that.” They walked out of the office together. “I can hardly believe we actually agree on something.” Chad smiled. “Or almost agree, anyway.”

Chad had good reason to feel that way, and Gloria felt the need to show her appreciation for the fact that he'd come. “I'm glad you were here,” she mumbled, looking down at the pavement.

“I am, too.”

“I should've mentioned it earlier….”

Chad shrugged. “I traded days with a friend. He owes me.”

Neither spoke as he walked her to her car.

“You read the books?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

“All three, cover to cover.” She grinned. “Including the name book, but the only thing I learned from that is how hard it is to make a decision. I found the pregnancy books really useful, though.”

“I often recommend them.”

“I can see why.”

They stood there, facing each other. It seemed that neither was ready to leave.

“I'm on desk duty now,” Gloria told him.

“I heard,” he murmured. “I bet you hate that.”

She motioned with her hands, unsure what to say. When she'd first been assigned to administrative work and the phones, she'd expected to be bored. But that hadn't turned out to be the case. “It's actually okay,” she said. “What about you? Do you like being an E.R. doctor?”

He made the same noncommittal hand motion she had. “It's not that different from what I did at the Cedar Cove clinic.”

She pushed the button to unlock her door.

“You're feeling good?”

Gloria nodded. “Too good. I've gained five pounds.”

“We both want a healthy baby, Gloria. I don't want you to worry about gaining weight.”

“I won't,” she promised. While she didn't want this conversation to end, she did need to get to work. “I'd better go.”

“Me, too.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, and leaned forward to hug him.

Chad returned her hug. “Gloria?” he said in a low voice.

“Yes?”

“I think you should know I'm still seeing Joni.”

Eighteen

R
achel waited inside the Cedar Cove movie theater for Bruce, looking at her watch every few minutes. Their Friday-night dinner date the week before had gone well—almost like the way things had been when they'd first started going out. It felt good to laugh with her husband again.

What hadn't felt good was leaving him at the end of the evening. They'd each driven off in opposite directions. But before they parted, they'd made plans to meet again. Rachel had suggested a movie. She'd already seen this particular romantic comedy on one of her late-afternoon excursions, but she knew Bruce would enjoy it, too. They needed more reasons to laugh together. They hadn't communicated since last Friday and she worried that he might have confused the time or forgotten that they'd agreed to meet.

Just when she was about to give up and go home, Bruce appeared, harried and out of breath.

“I wasn't sure you'd wait,” he said. “But I'm glad you did.” He took hold of her shoulders and brought her close.

“What happened?” she asked, then realized she knew. “Jolene?”

He nodded.

“I thought she was going to a haunted house with some friends tonight.”

“She was….”

“Until she found out you were meeting me.”

“She got sick.” He rolled his eyes, as though he suspected she was faking.

“But, Bruce, she really could be ill.”

“Trust me, I know when Jolene is sick and this was pretty lame. I told her she'd be fine by herself for a few hours and I'd be back soon.”

“But…”

“Let's enjoy the movie,” he said, steering her toward the ticket counter and then the refreshment stand. They ordered a large bucket of popcorn, a soda and bottled water for Rachel, joking about the fact that their popcorn and drinks cost more than the movie.

Bruce escorted her into the appropriate theater, where the previews had begun. He tilted the popcorn in her direction, then both of them settled in to watch the film.

Not until it ended and the credits were rolling did Rachel have an opportunity to resume their conversation. Jolene had obviously made a fuss about her father's date with Rachel. That was discouraging, especially if Jolene was faking illness in order to keep Bruce from seeing her. She found it hard to believe that her stepdaughter would go to such lengths. The one bright spot was that Bruce had recently had his second appointment with the counselor.

“So, how'd it go with Dr. Jenner?” she asked, once they were outside. It was dark by then and raining.

“Fine. I guess. Do you want to go somewhere and talk for a while?”

She wanted that very much. “Shouldn't you check on Jolene?”

Bruce hesitated. “I asked Anne from next door to look in on her. If there's something wrong, Anne will call me. I'm not letting Jolene force me into giving up this time with you.” He grinned and reached for her hand. “Dr. Jenner would be proud of me.”

Ten minutes later, they were sitting across from each other in a booth at the Pancake Palace.

Goldie, the long-time waitress, approached their table, coffeepot in hand, menus tucked under her arm. Bruce ordered the club sandwich and Rachel requested a small bowl of seafood chowder. She was full from the popcorn and could've gone without dinner, but Bruce wouldn't hear of it.

“Tell me more about the counselor,” she said.

“Well,” Bruce began. “So far, I've done most of the talking. He asked about my relationship with Jolene before you and I were married and what it's like now.”

“Did Jolene go with you?” Rachel knew it wasn't likely, and she wasn't surprised by his answer. “No.”

That would've been too much to expect, Rachel acknowledged, although she'd hoped Jolene would have a change of heart.

“You started to tell me what happened this afternoon,” she said. “What—”

“I don't want to talk about it,” he broke in. “You won't tell me where you're living. Fine. You have your secrets and I have mine. Why should I be the one to spill everything when you—”

“It isn't exactly a secret,” she protested quickly.

Bruce raised his hand. “You don't want to tell me, fine.”

Rachel glared at him. She was perfectly willing to let him know she was sharing a house with Nate—but not when he was in this frame of mind. “If that's the way you want it.”