The Child Who Changed Them, page 13
He shook his head, wanting to be open and honest with her, but not wanting to analyze so deeply they got themselves lost.
“The danger lies in not communicating with each other,” he said. “I think it’s probably pretty natural, with everything going on right now, and the adjustments we’re having to make, going from two people who had sex but didn’t really know each other, to broken up, to living together as parents-to-be... It’s a natural reaction to not want the added complication of other intimate relationships that would directly affect and be affected by what we’re doing here.”
“You really think that?”
He took a minute to reassess. “Yeah. I know I certainly don’t want any more complications added to the mix.”
“Me, either.”
“So we’re good?” He was serious as he looked over at her.
“We’re good.”
“Then would you mind getting the hell out of here so I can get up and go to bed?”
She didn’t look at his crotch. She might or might not know why he chose not to get up with her there.
He figured there were some things best left unsaid.
* * *
The night of the television incident was a turning point where Elaina’s dealings with Greg were concerned. He was still working nights—getting home a little after midnight most evenings—so she wasn’t seeing him all that much, but she felt differently about having him at the house. His initial desire of wanting to be around during her pregnancy still stood and she was fine to have him there. He’d accepted the full-time ED position at Oceanfront, but had decided to put off looking for a house of his own until after the baby was born.
The change wasn’t in their situation, but more in how she felt about having him in her space. Knowing she could talk to him honestly, openly, seemed to free up something inside her that had been under lock and key for a very long time.
With no expectations between them, and no past romantic history to speak of, she didn’t have to worry about hurting him. Or letting him down.
And she trusted him to listen to her. Not just to hear her words, but to really listen. Just as she listened to him. Because they both had one common goal—to bring their child into a healthy environment, and then to raise it in one.
As another couple of weeks passed, she thought about Greg more and more. Wanting to spend some real time with him, to talk about baby things.
Mostly.
The man’s musky scent in her home, his notes on the fridge, his dishes in the dishwasher, the trash disappearing from the can, a soft sound coming from the living room lulling her back to sleep if she happened to wake up in the night were all settling in on her, though she knew, too, that they weren’t a permanent part of her new reality.
But this new routine seemed to have a particularly noticeable side effect—she was more turned on by him than ever. To the point of having dreams about the sex they used to share. Only in her dreams, they’d be in a place she didn’t recognize. Or his face would suddenly disappear.
She’d wake up hot, needing to feel him inside her, and blanketed in a sense of foreboding that left a shadow on her. She was pretty sure—based on what she’d seen that night he’d come in from the pool, and then again on the night on the couch—that he was suffering some of the same, and that added sparks to the fire. But she was also aware of the sense of regret that would follow if they gave in to the fiery attraction. They had too much at stake to ruin it with lust.
She’d left a note for Greg telling him about the dog adoption day at the shelter in Mission Viejo, and another one mentioning that her sixteen-week check was coming up and asking if he wanted to be there. When he’d replied in the affirmative to both, she scheduled the doctor’s appointment on the same day as the adoption day, thinking it would be easier just to go from one to the other.
What it did was have them spending the whole day together. They would go together to these appointments from her house, as they’d both scheduled the day off.
She’d come out of her suite only long enough to get her morning tea and toast, taking it back to her suite to consume while she had a relaxing soak in the tub and then got ready. And yet she felt his presence. While she lay naked, submerged in warm bubbles, while she was drying off, rubbing every inch of her skin with the soft fluffy towel, and when she chose her clothes.
She’d told herself to dress for comfort. And the black leggings and tight white T-shirt were definitely that. But they also made her feel...feminine. Attractive.
While her tummy wasn’t showing her pregnancy yet, there was definitely more of a roundness there than normal for her, and she wanted to show that off—to the man who’d put it there.
And for once she left her hair down around her shoulders and down her back. Greg loved her hair. Thought it silky and lush. Had played with it in any number of ways...
Truth was, she liked it that way, too, which was why she’d left it long. It had become habit to keep it tightly pulled back and out of the way during all of the months of therapy. And then, so it didn’t get in the way during medical school.
But maybe her hairstyle had all been part of the hold she’d put on her life...
Shaking her head against the thought, not wanting such a serious intrusion on a day off, she grabbed a pair of gold hoop earrings Wood had given her for Christmas when Peter had still been alive, put them in and slid into her favorite wedge sandals.
Greg was waiting for her in the kitchen. In beige shorts with pockets down the thighs, a black shirt and black slip-ons, he looked like a guy any dog would run up to and adopt. His glance at her, the way he turned abruptly and poured the rest of his coffee down the drain, rinsed the cup, put it in the dishwasher and then reached for his keys...gave her a wonderful sense of being appreciated.
And a reminder that she had a responsibility to the choices they’d made, too. There’d be no flirting. No making more of the day than it was.
“I’ll drive,” she said, grabbing her keys as she put her satchel over her shoulder. And not to be disrespectful or thinking her desires automatically won out, she added, “Your car, being basically a two-seater, isn’t really big enough to bring a pet home, if we do get one today.”
Though she’d been approved by the animal shelter, she was trying not to get too excited about the prospect of a dog. Was trying to remain practical in light of the baby coming and the hours they both worked. Didn’t want to make a selfish choice.
Though she and Wood had worked a lot of hours and Retro had been fine. The big dog now acted as both guard and best friend to Alan, too.
Greg fidgeted in the passenger seat a bit on the way to the clinic, as though he didn’t know what to do with himself, and she kept her resulting smile to herself. He might not be used to being a passenger, might not be comfortable with it, but he wasn’t complaining.
Something she’d grown to count on with him. He was the same way at work. If he saw cause to do something in a way not of his own choosing, he did it with good attitude. Like the Brooklyn situation. He hadn’t made accusations. He’d just quietly sought the truth through factual tests and then reported them.
“We need to start talking about the future,” she said as she turned off her street. “If you really want to be a part of the baby’s life in utero, we’ll have to start spending more time together...”
“I’ve already put in to be back on day shift,” he interrupted. “It won’t be long now before the baby’s moving. And listening...”
Her belly jumped, almost as though the fetus could already hear and was responding, except the sensation was a little lower than where the baby lay growing.
And Greg was talking about maybe having dinner together in the kitchen any night they were both home. “We could set a time to show up, maybe put together a cooking schedule, that kind of thing.”
He’d evidently given it a lot of thought. “I was thinking about scheduling time each week to go out to eat, or do other things...you know, like today, going to a pet adoption day...”
Eating together every night: that sounded a lot like family to her. And she and Greg weren’t going to be that.
“That’s fine,” he said. And then... “Eating together every night... I’m still me...still fixated on building something that isn’t there.”
“It’s obviously something you need, Greg. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a family. You have to know that.”
His nod was easy, the accompanying shrug casual. “I just need to let nature takes its course, to wait for the...what did Heather call it? Wait for the butterfly to alight upon me. I actually do know that, you know...”
“And I actually like that you think like a family man,” she told him as she turned into the clinic parking lot. “I put a high value on your overall willingness to do hard work when required for the greater good. And then head home as opposed to always having to be somewhere else. And I know other women who also value that quality in a man.”
Because it couldn’t be about him and her.
Still, it felt good knowing that about him. Understanding it.
She was getting to really know the man who was father to her child.
And liked what she was learning.
The baby she was carrying was lucky to be coming into the world with Greg as a permanent part of its life.
Chapter Fourteen
The sixteen-week checkup was an uneventful and quick evaluation of Elaina’s weight and vitals, along with Dr. Miller listening to the baby’s heartbeat, and with an “everything looks good, see you in a month,” they were done.
“Just one other thing,” Dr. Miller said as Greg got up, eager to leave the small examination room that he felt was overpowering. Three doctors in one room...and a man who was doing exactly what he always did—weaving stories in his mind about the woman who was attached to his life. Trying to make a forever family out of a relationship that was barely a friendship... “If you two want to know the sex of the baby, we have a couple of options. We can do a blood test—with new technology we can generally tell at seven weeks—or we can do another ultrasound and try to see...”
“I don’t want to know yet,” Elaina said, even as Greg was shaking his head, too.
She glanced at him, smiling, and he smiled back.
As parents, they seemed to be on the same page already.
“You seriously don’t want to know the sex of the baby, either?” Elaina asked him while he sat beside her trying to be fine with not being behind the wheel. She was a decent driver. Great. Maybe even better than him—or as good as him—but he just...enjoyed driving.
Not so much riding. He liked being in control of the machine barreling him down the road. Liked being able to control the power in the machine.
Lord knew there was little else in his control at the moment.
“I really don’t want to know yet,” he told her. And then kept talking. “I don’t want the sex of the child to narrow our choices in terms of how we’re going to parent. I’d like us to come to agreements about what our lives are going to look like, first, how we’re going to co-parent, before we start thinking about nursery colors or names.”
“I was thinking purple and yellow for the nursery,” Elaina said. “Faith and fun. Wisdom and youthful joy. Which is what some experts say those colors represent or inspire. And even if they don’t, I think they’re bright and peaceful at the same time. And if it’s a girl, Marisol, and if it’s a boy, Austin.”
Point taken. She was already way ahead of him. Nursery colors and names firmly decided. But... “That’s your nursery. Will I have one? More to the point, will I have need of one in my own home? And my parents’ names are Wilma and Fred. What if I’d like my child to be named after them?”
She glanced his way as she settled into a lane on the highway and slipped on cruise control. An option on his car that had never been used. “Your parents’ names are Fred and Wilma? Like the Flintstones?”
Her grin made him want to nod, just to see her keep smiling. “No, they’re Anna and James, but my point is—”
“I get your point and you’re right,” she said, her expression growing serious. “And I’m sorry I didn’t think enough about things from your point of view...exactly why I do not trust myself in a relationship.”
“I wasn’t criticizing, Elaina. I haven’t been spending a lot of time in your point of view, either. How could we expect to when we were both hit with shocking news? I’m just saying...for me...it’s time to start making the bigger decisions.”
She nodded. Changed lanes. And said, “I’m afraid to have the conversation.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know the answers.”
“Maybe we find them together.”
Another quick glance in his direction showed him her raised brows. He wasn’t sure what they signified.
“Isn’t that what co-parenting means? Doing it together?”
“What happens if you want Wilma and I want Marisol?”
“I actually like Marisol, by the way. But in answer to your question, I guess that’s where the hard work comes in. We have to be open to hearing each other’s opinions, and then weighing them both for the best of the child. I’m sure there’ll be times when either side could be right, or neither answer is better or worse, and then we’ll have to learn to compromise. And maybe have an argument or two. Get a bit miffed at each other. But because we both love the baby so much, we’ll find a way to work it out on a case-by-case basis.”
She didn’t quite smile, but he was getting used to seeing the slight upward tilt of her lips, the relaxing of her features. And liking it.
“Okay, so if you’re okay with Marisol if it’s a girl, which is my choice, then maybe you get to choose the name if it’s a boy. And since we don’t know either way, the agreement is fair.”
Her willingness to give him his fair say made him feel good. And he had no ideas for boys’ names. Not Gregory. He didn’t want a namesake, to give the kid any idea that he had to follow in his footsteps. But...
“Can I have some time to think about it?”
“Of course.” Traffic was light. He could play with names while they drove. Instead, he instinctively pressed his foot to the floor as red taillights shone in succession in front of them, signaling a massive slowdown. But she had the brake pedal, not him.
Pumped it well. Slowed the car without any jerks, or extra wear on the brakes.
As he sat there, feeling a bit useless, it occurred to him that she’d just given him an example of shared parenting. They’d made a decision to discuss their child’s future and to respect each other’s opinions.
It wasn’t going to be easy. Wasn’t always going to look as he envisioned it.
But he was determined to make it work.
* * *
Elaina knew the second she saw Beldon that he was the one. Two years old. A poodle mix with unusual black-and-white coloring. And much bigger than the ten or twelve pounds she wanted. The dog was easily thirty pounds. He was house-trained. Had been in a home with five kids since his birth—and then had been left behind when the family moved.
What got her, though, was the way, when she and Greg approached his temporary, makeshift cage, he sat down, looked up at her, held her gaze and stuck his paw through the fencing.
“He’s obviously the one,” Greg said before she could even find a voice. So she nodded. And while she knelt down to speak to the dog, asking him how he was and if he wanted to come home with her, Greg was already off finding the volunteer who could get them through the adoption process. She’d already filled out an online application, had been approved. Had all the necessities at home. There was still paperwork to do.
And money to pay.
Different dogs, different adoption fees. She had no idea how much Beldon cost. And didn’t care. She’d planned to donate extra anyway. Because of all of the animals she couldn’t take home with her.
“It’s going to be an hour or so before we can take him,” Greg said, rejoining her. He reached out a hand to the dog, and Beldon licked his palm. Just once. A greeting, not a meal. “They suggested we get some lunch,” he said. “They’ll be taking Beldon back, getting him ready to go...”
She didn’t want to leave the sweet guy, even for a second, but nodded. “We’re coming right back,” she told him, her tone dead serious. Hoping that he understood. “You’re not alone anymore.” When she stood up, Greg had the most peculiar look on his face. Like he’d seen something that both frightened and intrigued him.
“What?”
“That’s what it’s all about, isn’t it?” he asked, walking with her toward the door of the shelter. “Both of us... We just don’t want to be alone.”
Maybe. She couldn’t let him convince her to stray off course. “I’d rather be alone than hurt anyone by not being able to give them the love they need.” Peter had needed something different from what she could give him. She’d fought him. And he’d been so upset by her outburst that he hadn’t seen what was coming right at him.
She’d seen. She’d screamed. But it hadn’t been soon enough...
Blinking away the blinding memory of oncoming silver glints, she walked next door to a family-owned café, slid into the booth of the window seat they were shown and picked up her menu.
“There are many ways to not be alone,” she said, when she realized she should have been making a meal choice. She hadn’t even seen what the place served. Didn’t really care. As long as it was healthy for the baby. “Many ways we can love...”
“And there’s danger here, with you and me, because in one sense, we both want the same thing, and that wanting brings out characteristics in us that lead to relationships that don’t work.”
