She was in her fourth month when Rome came home unexpectedly early one Wednesday, the day when the store was closed after lunch. She was putting new shelf paper in the cabinets, and she was working on the bottom shelves, down on her hands and knees, with her entire torso inside the cabinet. Rome looked at her, bent down to grasp her hips, and firmly drew her out. “I’m hiring someone to do the housework,” he said calmly. “Tomorrow.”
The idea amused her. “Millions of women all over the world do housework while they’re pregnant until the very day they give birth.”
“You aren’t millions of women,” he said. “If I didn’t travel so much, it would be different. I can help you while I’m here, but when I’m gone, I want to know that you aren’t climbing around on cabinets, or in them.”
She’d done it before, when she wasn’t pregnant, but she didn’t point that out to him. Having his concern based on her pregnancy was a very good sign. It wasn’t because she was awkward or clumsy, because even though she was four months pregnant, she had gained only one pound and was still wearing her normal clothes. The only visible sign of her pregnancy was the increased plumpness of her breasts, and their added sensitivity, both of which seemed to fascinate Rome.
He leaned down and kissed her. “Promise me,” he said, and she did.
He was quieter than he had been before, at the same time both closer and more remote. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but whenever he went on a trip, he called more often to check on her. When he was home and had a business dinner, he more often than not arranged for wives to attend, so she wouldn’t be spending the evening alone. His hand was always on the small of her back when they walked, and he always held her hand while she was getting into or out of his car. But he never asked about the baby, how her latest checkup had gone, or even when it was due, though if he could count, he should have been able to figure that out.
She knew she wouldn’t have the joy of picking out baby names with him, or speculating on the fascinating subject of whether it was a boy or a girl. On the other hand, a lot of fathers exhibited little or no interest in their offspring, then went to pieces when labor began. She still hoped. She had to hope, though she knew she had to face a lot of heartbreak in the future, not the least of which would be trying to explain to a small child that Daddy wasn’t to be bothered—ever.
But she had a baby to prepare for, with or without Rome, so she quietly began preparing the third bedroom as a nursery. To make room for baby furniture she had Derek help her move several items of furniture she’d brought from her old apartment, and those she took down to the store and sold them. Marcie took her shopping, calling on her half-forgotten experiences as a new mother in helping Sarah select what she’d need. A baby bed was bought and installed, with a merry crib-mobile attached to it, ready to be wound up to fascinate the infant who would occupy the bed. A cradle and a rocking chair took up residence. A teddy bear appeared one afternoon, sitting smugly in the passenger seat of her car, but when Sarah looked around for Derek he’d already disappeared from sight. The teddy bear was placed in the rocking chair and promptly named Boo-Boo.
One night, searching for some papers he’d misplaced, Rome opened the door of the third bedroom and turned on the light. He froze momentarily, then quickly turned out the light and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him. His face was white. He didn’t open the door again.
Sarah asked Marcie to attend natural childbirth classes with her, to be her coach and partner. Marcie drew a quick breath. “Are you certain?” she asked, pleased but uneasy at the same time. “I really don’t know anything about having babies. I mean, I had Derek, but he had it all organized.” She blushed like a young girl. “That sounds stupid, but I swear, that’s the way it seemed. I went into labor at eight o’clock in the morning, just as the doctor was making his rounds at the hospital. Derek has always been considerate. He was born at nine thirty, with no trouble and very little effort on my part, just a few pushes. He cried by himself, before the doctor could make him, then began sucking on his fist and went to sleep. That was it.”
They looked at each other; then Marcie rolled her eyes and they began laughing.
Sarah did all the exercises Dr. Easterwood recommended to strengthen her back and abdominal muscles, and took her vitamins faithfully. When she was five months pregnant, Dr. Easterwood performed a relatively simple test, drawing a small amount of amniotic fluid from Sarah’s womb. The baby was pronounced perfectly normal, and the doctor then confessed that that had been her foremost concern, but everything was going along great guns.
Soon after that, Rome settled her into place one night to sleep, with her head on his shoulder and her body curved against him. He’d just made love to her, and Sarah was sleepy, her body replete. At that moment, the baby kicked, hard, the first time it had moved so vigorously. Sarah had felt small, discrete flutters for several weeks but never before an honest kick. The tiny foot thudded against her abdomen where she was pressed into Rome’s side. He went rigid, then shot out of bed, stifling a curse.
He turned on the light, and Sarah stared at him, uncontrollable tears stinging her eyes. He was sweating. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely. He leaned down and kissed her, stroking her hair. “I love you, but I can’t take it. I’ll sleep in my bedroom until after it’s born.”
She tried to smile, despite the tears in her eyes. “I understand. I’m sorry too.”
Two days later he left on an extended trip. Sarah suspected that he’d volunteered for it, but if that were so, she supposed she couldn’t blame him. Things were out of his control, and despite his efforts to ignore it, her pregnancy kept making itself obvious to him. Her figure was rounding out now, and she had to wear maternity clothes. The baby had changed his sleeping habits and his love life; no wonder he felt the need to get away.
While Rome was gone Max called her every day. She’d never been so cosseted in her life, all because of a perfectly normal pregnancy. Derek ruled her like a gentle despot at the store, and since school was out for the summer, there was no break from him. He was there when she arrived and left only when she did. The only privacy she had was when she went home at night to the perfectly clean apartment. Rome had indeed hired a housekeeper, a nice comfortable middle-aged woman who didn’t at all mind receiving a nice salary for cleaning an apartment that was never really mussed anyway. Mrs. Melton knew a good deal when she saw it, and the apartment was always spotless, the laundry always done. If it hadn’t been for the interest and distraction of the store, Sarah would have gone crazy.
Rome was gone for three weeks, three of the longest weeks of her life, but everyone made a herculean effort to keep her cheered up. Not everyone knew all of the circumstances—only Marcie, Derek, and Max—but all her customers fussed over her as well. If only Rome had looked forward to his child’s birth with even a fraction of the eagerness that relative strangers revealed, she’d have been delirious with joy.
He called her at work one day to tell her briefly that he was in a meeting but would be home the next day. Sarah hung up the phone and began crying.
Derek took her in his arms and led her to the office, closing the door behind them. She cried on his strong young shoulder, while he rocked her soothingly back and forth. Then he dried her eyes and seated her in her chair, pulling up the other chair to sit before her.
“Was that Rome?”
“Yes. He’ll be home tomorrow.” She gave a watery sniffle. “I was just so glad to hear his voice and know he’ll be home soon that I couldn’t handle it.”
He smiled and patted her knee. “I received the final confirmation on my scholarship yesterday,” he said, taking her mind away from Rome. “Rome and Mr. Conroy really went to bat for me, didn’t they? And all because of you.”
“I’m glad for you. You deserve the best.”
He was watching her steadily. “I’ve been reading about pregnancy and childbirth, just in case something happens and you need me, before you can get to a hospital.
I think I could deliver a baby.”
There was no doubt in Sarah’s mind, if Derek had been reading up on something, he could do it. Some people would have thought he’d changed the subject, but knowing Derek, she simply waited for him to tie delivering a baby in with his scholarship.
“I’ve decided that I’m going to be a doctor,” he said, with great dignity. “An obstetrician. Watching you grow, with the baby inside you, is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. I want to help a lot of babies into the world.”
“I can’t think of a better start a child could have,” Sarah said, touched almost to tears. No man would be a better doctor than Derek Taliferro.
“I love you, you know.” His calm golden brown eyes drifted over her face. “You’ve given me a chance I wouldn’t have had otherwise, and helped Mom too. I’m not talking man-woman love, because I’m not ready for that, but it’s still love.” He leaned over and put his palm on the swell of her stomach, a touch of love. “But if this baby is a girl, I just might wait for her. I figure your daughter would have to be something really special.”
A tender smile touched her lips, and she stroked a black curl away from his forehead. “She couldn’t have a better man waiting for her,” she whispered and kissed his cheek.
She went home early the next night, leaving Erica and Derek to close up because she wanted to see Rome. Feeling that she’d burst into tears if he wasn’t home, she almost cried anyway when she saw his car. She ran inside and fretted as the elevator made its way upward. “Rome!” she called as she unlocked the door and thrust it open. “Rome! Where are you?”
“In here,” he called from his bedroom.
She ran to his room, her heart thumping wildly. He came out of the bathroom just as she skidded through the doorway, looking lean and gorgeous with his hair damp and a white towel slung around his neck. She caught a quick breath and fairly leapt across the room, only to falter midway. She gave him a helpless, confused look, then fainted for the first time not only in her pregnancy, but in her entire life.
Rome gave a startled cry and leapt for her but wasn’t able to catch her before she hit the floor. Swearing beneath his breath, he lifted her in his arms and placed her on the bed, a cold sweat breaking out on him at the limpness of her body. He wet a washcloth in cold water and washed her face and hands with it, then placed it across her forehead. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she stared at him in confusion. “I fainted,” she said in tones of pure astonishment.
He couldn’t think of her doctor’s name. “Who’s your doctor?” he asked fiercely, leaning over her.
“Easterwood. But why—”
He grabbed the phone book and flipped to the E’s, then began running his finger down the column. “Rome,” she began patiently, trying to sit up. “There’s nothing wrong with me. I just fainted.”
He put his hand on her chest and pushed her back onto the bed. “Don’t get up again,” he warned flatly, punching out the numbers on the phone.
“She’s not at her office; you’ll get an answering service.”
“Dr. Easterwood, please,” he said into the phone, all the authority of a senior vice president in his tone. “This is Roman Matthews, Sarah Matthews’s husband.”
Against all the laws of nature as well as those governing doctors’ offices, Dr. Easterwood came on the line. Sarah lay on the bed and glared at Rome, wondering if, somehow, he and Derek were related. It was disgusting.
He briefly told the doctor what had happened, then Dr. Easterwood asked a few questions, and he gave Sarah a grim look. “Yes, she made an abrupt movement. She was running.”
He listened for a while longer, and his expression became even grimmer. “I see. What are the dangers if she goes into premature labor and the baby is in the birth canal before a cesarean can be performed?”
Sarah groaned aloud, knowing now that she’d had it. All the signs were that she’d have a perfectly normal labor and birth, as the child didn’t seem to be a large one, but she knew that it wouldn’t make any difference to Rome. He was giving her a look that would have scorched grass.
He hung up the phone and turned to face her. “You’re in a certain amount of danger by having your first child at your age,” he said with scathing control. “You’re at an even greater risk because of the narrowness of your pelvis. And you were running, damn it!” His face contorted, and he clenched his fist. “I don’t want this baby at all, and certainly not at any risk to you. Why didn’t you tell me? What do you think it would do to me if something happened to you because of a baby I’d—” He broke off, his chest heaving as he fought for control again.
Sarah sat up and went into his arms, holding him and trying to comfort him. “Rome, darling, I’m fine. Honestly. And don’t worry, because the only possibility of my needing a C-section is if the baby is a large one, and so far, it isn’t.”
He shook his head, his arms closing around her. “Don’t you remember how big Justin and Shane were? They both weighed over nine pounds! Shane only lacked one ounce of hitting ten pounds. The very thought of you even carrying a baby that big is…it’s scary,” he finished.
“Don’t borrow trouble before it happens. Please. I haven’t had any difficulty at all; no nausea, no swelling in my feet, no back pain. I’m in perfect health!”
He tilted her head back, hungrily examining her face, seeing the love and concern there, concern for him instead of for herself. He kissed her, then held her head to his chest. “I love you,” he said shakily. “Don’t let my miracle slip away from me now.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she assured him. “I’ve waited too long for you; I’m not about to let anything happen now. Years and years and years,” she said softly. “That’s how long I waited for you. That’s why I never married, and why everyone thought I was so devoted to my job. I wasn’t interested in any other man except you.”
He rubbed his chin against her temple, his eyes closing.
“I love you so much, it scares me,” he finally said, very quietly. “I loved Diane, but the pain of losing her is gone, because of you. It’s as if Diane prepared me for you, gave me the base to stand on so I could reach you. I always knew you were there, and I think I always knew that someday, when I knew how to love enough, I’d have you. If I forget to say it sometimes, remind me, because I don’t ever want you to forget how I feel. I can’t want this baby, but that doesn’t change the way I feel about you, and I want you to always remember that. There’s just something in me that broke when the boys died, and I don’t think it will ever heal. Another baby won’t replace them.”
No, nothing would ever replace the little boys he’d loved, and he couldn’t yet see that this new child wasn’t a replacement, but a person in its own right. That was the other miracle she prayed for, the day when he would look at his child and feel his heart mend.
If that day never came, eventually her own heart would break.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Give me your car keys,” he said the next morning as he was leaving for work. Frowning, she got the keys from her purse and gave them to him. He took his own keys from his pocket and put them in her hand. “Drive my car for the duration. It’s bigger, more comfortable, and will give you more protection, as well as being an automatic. You don’t need to be changing gears.”
“Well, if you insist.” She took the keys and lifted an elegant eyebrow at him. “What’s this going to do to your corporate image?”
“Send it right down the old tubes,” he said and grinned.
The Mercedes felt huge around her, and she drove with ponderous care, fearful of putting the slightest scratch on its unblemished surface. She was used to wheeling her dashing little ZX into the narrowest of parking spaces, to darting through holes in traffic that looked limited to bicycles, but there would be none of that with Rome’s car, which was precisely what he’d intended.
The summer days ended. Derek went back to school, and time seemed to slow. Sarah felt her pregnancy weighing heavily on her now, tho
ugh she was still in good health and Dr. Easterwood was well satisfied with her condition. She hadn’t gained all that much weight, only ten pounds, but it was amazing how heavy ten pounds could be when they were concentrated in one spot. When Dr. Easterwood told her she’d probably gain another ten pounds before she delivered, Sarah groaned in disbelief. “I won’t be able to get out of bed!” she protested. “I have to roll out on my hands and knees now! I won’t be able to buckle my shoes!”
“I’ve heard it all before,” Dr. Easterwood said, unimpressed. “Wear slip-on flats, and get your husband to help you get up.”
Since Rome was sleeping in his bedroom, he was never around to see her struggles to get out of bed, and she was always careful to sit on the edge of a chair now, so she’d be able to get up without making a spectacle of herself. Relaxing tub baths were a thing of the past, and showers were the order of the day. Shaving her legs or putting on panty hose involved some incredible contortions. She sighed, looking at the tight little mound of her stomach. Ten more pounds was out of the question.
Forgetting her promise not to tell him anything about the baby, that night she groaned to Rome, “Can you believe it? Dr. Easterwood said I’d gain ten more pounds! I’m huge already! I won’t be able to walk.”
He looked at her, startled by the real distress in her voice. She was seven months pregnant, and Diane had been that big at four months. But Sarah had never been pregnant before, and he realized with amazement that he had far more experience with this than she had. He also knew of a woman’s fears and discomforts as her time came nearer and her waistline kept expanding. The one thing he couldn’t do was laugh, though when he looked at her swollen little stomach he wanted to absolutely roar with laughter. It was a small baby, he realized with relief, and a weight lifted from his shoulders.
She looked so forlorn, he was reminded of when she’d had the flu and she’d been disgusted with being ill. She couldn’t take being in anything but tip-top shape, capable of handling whatever came her way. She needed comforting; she needed him, just as she had when she’d been ill.