Baby Comes First (7 page)

Hannah gasped, too angry to speak for several
seconds.

As if on cue, Dr. Armanzo came into the room.
“What’s this about buying children at a grocery store?” she joked
in an attempt to diffuse the emotional tension in the room. “Sounds
like a good idea to me. It would make my job a lot easier.”

She turned to Hannah. “Let’s see how you’re
doing,” she murmured, looking at her charts.

“I’ll be back,” Luke said tersely, and
slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Hannah let out a slow, deep breath of
relief.

CHAPTER
FIVE

“He’s rather intense, isn’t he?” Dr. Armanzo
said.

Hannah laughed. “That’s the understatement of
the year.”

“Is he the baby’s father?” the doctor asked
casually.

Hannah felt as if the walls of the room were
closing in on her. She didn’t want to lie to her doctor, but she
didn’t dare tell her the truth, either. “It’s complicated. I can’t
...”

Dr. Armanzo shook her head. “That’s okay.
It’s none of my business who the father is. It’s my job to keep you
healthy and to help you have a healthy baby, but let me give you a
few words of advice.”

Hannah waited.

“Placenta previa is putting you both at risk.
Emotional stress and confusion is taxing on the body, and right
now, you need peace and rest for both you and the baby. I suggest
strongly that you find a way to eliminate or at least reduce that
stress.”

Short of moving across the country to some
place Luke couldn’t find her, Hannah didn’t know how she could
reduce her stress. In general, she believed that honesty was the
best policy, but complete honesty would only make things worse.
She’d hoped that telling him about the sperm bank would stop his
questions, but instead, it had angered him, as she should have
known it would.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good.” Dr. Armanzo examined her and said she
was free to go home. She gave Hannah a list of restrictions and
reminded her to call her office if there were any problems. “And
I’ll still need to see you every two weeks, so call my office and
schedule your next appointment.”

“I will,” Hannah promised.

After the doctor left, Luke came back to the
room. “What’s the verdict?”

If she didn’t know better, she’d think that
Dr. Armanzo had given him a lecture as well. He was no longer
angry. He seemed like her boss again, emotionally distant.

“I can go home now.”

“Good.”

Checking out of the hospital took nearly an
hour, but soon they were on the road again. Luke was as quiet as
she, saying nothing unless it was absolutely necessary.

He stopped at a fast food restaurant on the
way to make sure she had something to eat, then drove to her
house.

Hannah lived on a quiet residential street in
one of the older subdivisions in Dallas. The homes were mostly
brick, having been built in the early 1960's. Her parents’ home was
a simple three bedroom ranch style house with a courtyard garden
and native pecan trees in the back. Her mother had deeded it to her
after her first stroke.

She wondered what Luke thought of her home.
It was neat and attractive, but not elegant. From the office
gossip, she knew he lived in a huge house in Highland Park. “Home
sweet home,” she murmured as he pulled into her driveway.

He turned off the engine, as if planning to
walk around the car and open her door, but she was too quick for
him. She opened her door by herself. “No, don’t get out,” she said.
“You’ve done enough for me already. I’ll just let myself in.”

“But you aren’t settled –”

“I’ll be fine,” she told him. Perhaps it was
rude, but she didn’t want him in her house, not today. She wanted
to feel that one part of her life was still safe, out of his
control. She lifted the paper sack containing the hamburger he had
bought. “I’ll eat this, and spend the rest of the evening lying
down.”

Luke shook his head. “My mother taught me to
escort a lady to her front door.”

“This is hardly a date,” Hannah said, but he
wasn’t listening. He walked around to the passenger side of the
car.

He held out his arm for her to take, which
she ignored. She was pregnant, but she was not an invalid, and she
had been walking by herself, just fine, for years. Except that
afternoon, she remembered. He had helped her outside and to his
car.

Luke stood on the doorstep as she fished in
her purse for her keys. “Will you be okay until Mrs. Parker comes
in the morning?”

He was annoying, she thought, but he was
trying to be helpful. “I’ll keep the phone by my bed. I should be
fine.”

“Do you have my cell number?” he asked. “In
case you need anything?”

Why was he being so nice? All she wanted him
to do was to leave her alone. “No,” she said honestly. “I have it
at work, but not on my personal phone.”

He held out his hand. “Give me your phone.”
Silently he entered his number into her contacts and pressed the
phone back into her hand. “Call me if you need anything.”

She looked down, avoiding his gaze. With
shaking fingers, she fit the key in the lock and turned it. She
opened her heavy wooden front door, and her alarm system started
beeping. She reached in and keyed the numbers that turned off the
alarm.

She turned to face him, keeping the door
between them. “Thank you for your help today,” she repeated.
“Good-bye.”

His hesitated, as if he wanted to say more,
but then he thought better of it. “Good bye, Hannah,” he said
quietly.

After he left, she closed and locked the
door, and leaned against it for a few seconds, exhausted. What a
tumultuous day this had been, first with her fears, then the trip
to the hospital.

Now that it was all over, she wished she had
taken a taxi. It would have taken longer, but it would have been
safer, for now Luke knew too much. She’d opened up too much, and
let him come too close. She winced, remembering how she’d gripped
his hand, asking him to stay during the ultrasound. No wonder he
thought she needed his help. She had practically begged him.

She felt as if she had opened Pandora’s box,
and it was too late to close the lid. What could she do now?

Lie down, she thought. That was the most
important thing. She must lie down for the baby. She walked over to
the couch and lay down, staring at the ceiling. She’d stay down for
an hour, then get up for her five minutes.

The baby stirred and she patted her stomach.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she crooned, wishing that were true.

Somehow, she’d figure out what to do
next.

#

Luke Jamison drove away from Hannah’s house
slowly. He didn’t like leaving her alone, but she was a grown
woman, capable of taking care of herself. If she had an emergency,
she could call him or one of her friends or 911. He’d helped as
much as he could by arranging for Mrs. Parker to be there in the
morning. If he tried to do anything more, Hannah would think he was
being a pest.

And she’d be right. The logical part of him
was stunned by his behavior. He’d taken her to the hospital,
totally abandoning his work for the day.

Then he’d spent the afternoon with her,
trying to be kind and supportive, until he asked too many questions
and they argued.

That wasn’t like him -- at least not the
prying. Naturally, when he was working, he asked for the essential
facts he needed for his cases, but beyond that, he tried to keep a
healthy emotional distance, respecting the other person’s
privacy.

But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to
leave Hannah alone. He wanted to know everything about her. And
this evening, at her doorstep, he hadn’t wanted to leave.

What was that all about?

What was so different about Hannah that he
reacted so strongly? None of his pro bono clients had ever affected
him this way. Always before, he’d been able to do his work, help
them, and move on, without getting involved.

He’d never thought about kissing those women,
either, he realized with sudden clarity. And tonight, when it was
time to say good bye, he had definitely felt like kissing her
good-night.

The impulse had surprised him. After Gloria
died, he had no interest in finding another woman. He’d thought the
sexual part of him was dead, too, but apparently it had been merely
dormant, waiting for the right opportunity.

Was that the difference? The fact that he
found Hannah attractive? He could lie to himself and say he had
been motivated solely by pity, wanting to comfort her, but he knew
better. He’d wanted to kiss her, and hold her close, if only for a
moment.

It didn’t make sense.

She was pretty, he admitted, but there were
other women, more beautiful than she, who had crossed his path over
the years without upsetting his equilibrium.

She was smart, too. But then again, the law
firm was filled with intelligent women who didn’t intrigue him the
way Hannah did.

The baby was another factor, although it was
difficult to say if it was positive or negative. As much as he
liked children, he’d been furious when he learned that she had gone
to a sperm bank to have a baby. He thought she was wrong to do it,
he still thought it was poor judgment on her part, but underneath
his anger, there was a twinge of male satisfaction that she didn’t
have an ex-lover that could show up, ruining his chances with
her.

My chances?

Luke laughed at his own idiocy. The woman was
seven months pregnant and had just been put on bed rest. Starting a
relationship with him would be the last thing on her mind.

He felt as if this was one of Mother Nature’s
tricks, having him be physically attracted to a woman so obviously
out of reach.

But she won’t be pregnant forever.

#

The next morning, Mrs. Parker arrived ten
minutes late. She was a stocky woman in her early fifties with
friendly smile. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was terrible. LBJ was a
mess, and Central Expressway was no better,” she explained in a
rush, untying a patterned scarf and taking off her coat. She
glanced around the living room with approval. “What a lovely home.
I’m going to enjoy working here,” she said, then held out her hand.
“Hello, I’m Ellen Parker.”

Hannah shook her hand and asked the woman to
sit, then she lay back down on the couch. She’d brought out a
pillow from her bed, and she wore sweats to be comfortable. “As you
can see, I have to stay horizontal.”

“That’s what the agency said,” Mrs. Parker
said calmly. “And I’m glad if I can be of some help. One of my
sisters was told to lie down when she was pregnant, but with three
kids, that was practically impossible, and she ended up
miscarrying.”

Hannah’s eyes widened with alarm.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Parker gasped. “I
shouldn’t have mentioned that. I’m sure your case will be very
different.”

“I hope so,” Hannah murmured. She was not
offended. How could she be when Mrs. Parker was such a warm-hearted
person? The only thing that surprised her was that Luke had
described her as quiet. But then again, he had a habit of
intimidating people. Perhaps Mrs. Parker had been quiet in his
house. Hannah said, “I’ve heard good things about you from one of
your previous employers – Luke Jamison.”

Mrs. Parker’s smile faded. “Yes. Mr. and Mrs.
Jamison. I remember them. That wasn’t a happy job.”

“No, I suppose not, not with Mrs. Jamison
dying.” For a moment, Hannah was tempted to ask about Luke’s wife.
She wondered what kind of woman she was, but of course, that was
none of her business. She cleared her throat. “Well, I appreciate
your coming to help me, and I look forward to what Mr. Jamison
called your excellent cooking.”

Mrs. Parker beamed at the compliment. “Have
you had breakfast?”

“I ate a banana.” Since she wasn’t supposed
to stand for more than five minutes an hour, there hadn’t been time
to make something substantial to eat.

“That’s not enough,” the woman said briskly.
“Would you like an omelet and some toast?”

Mrs. Parker sounded like a mother hen,
clucking at her to keep her in line. “That sounds wonderful, thank
you.”

“Do you want coffee or tea?”

“Neither. I prefer orange juice.”

Mrs. Parker nodded. “I’ll go whip that up,
and while you’re waiting, you can make a list of household chores
you’d like me to do today.”

Hannah relaxed. She had worried about how
she’d feel, having a stranger in her house, but now that she’d met
Mrs. Parker, she had no fears. Her new housekeeper was a happy,
cheerful woman, ready to work.

She had a feeling she could get used to
living a life of leisure.

Later that evening, the doorbell rang. “Are
you expecting anyone?” Mrs. Parker asked as she walked through the
house to answer the front door. She had been mopping the kitchen
floor.

Hannah lay on a couch in the den, where she’d
taken a nap and watched a black and white Cary Grant movie. “No,”
she said, wondering who had come by. She propped herself up on one
elbow and turned, so she could hear whoever it was better.

Mrs. Parker opened the door. “Mr. Jamison!”
she exclaimed happily.

Luke? What is he doing here?
Hannah
put her hand to her hair – it was too late to fix the ratty mop
now. And she wasn’t wearing make-up -- he’d see all her freckles.
And her clothes – comfortable gray sweats that made her look like a
blob. He’d see her at her absolute worst.

She groaned and sank back against her
pillows. It shouldn’t matter what she looked like, but she felt as
if she’d been stripped of all her vanity. She had no pride
left.

Maybe he won’t come in, she thought
hopefully, then heard his heavy steps coming through the living
room.

Mrs. Parker said, “Look who’s here,” and then
walked on to the kitchen to give them privacy.