The Doctor and the War Widow (17 page)

BOOK: The Doctor and the War Widow
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“You and Harley are in danger.” Jessica broke into a sob. “What would I do without you?”

Abisi said gently, “You have Geoffrey.”

“Yes, and I love him, but you’re my daddy.” Her voice broke. “My mum’s gone. Jordan’s gone. You’re my family. My only immediate family.”

“You have family in the UK and in Egypt.”

“But I won’t have you.” She sounded so desolate Abisi wanted to reach through the phone and hold her. The frequent separations from his children had grated on his soul. Suddenly, her tone grew light. “Why don’t you and Harley come to London for a while? I’m working, but we can spend some time together in the evenings.” She added excitedly, “Besides, you can see the Fall Collection. Come to the show.”

“I won’t live with Harley in your flat, Jess, and I won’t stay in the same flat where I know you’re living with Geoffrey.” Abisi was too Old World to sleep with Harley while Jessica was near.

His daughter giggled for the first time. “God, Dad, you’re hopeless. Okay, you two can stay in a hotel or a bed and breakfast. During the day, you can be together to sight see or do whatever you want to do.” She gave way to wicked laughter.

“Very funny.” Abisi sensed blood rushing to his face. “Look, Harley should be coming out soon. I’ll talk to her about it.”

Chapter 15

Harley stared at Dr. Champagne wildly. “You must be kidding.”

The old man scratched his head. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”

“Can’t be.” She shook her head. The breath left her body. She felt like someone had punched her in the gut.

“Obviously, dear girl, you can be.” The doctor pressed his glasses along the bridge of his nose. “What’s so surprising? Wasn’t Paul McCartney in his sixties when he fathered a child? See, you two won’t be the only old, er, older parents at the soccer games.”

“I’ll be forty this December.” Harley fought to keep her mouth from dropping open. Her hands were cold. “He’s going to be sixty-one in November.”

Dr. Champagne smiled wryly at her. “I’m glad you’re both in such good shape.”

Harley took a deep breath. A knot formed in her midsection and throbbed against her insides. “I’m not real sure how I feel about this. I didn’t plan on being pregnant at this stage of my life. How did this happen?”

Dr. Champagne threw his head back, laughing. “I think you’ve known that for a long time.”

“Okay, you know what I mean.” Harley glared at him and then sighed, resisting the urge to slap the old man. “We weren’t very careful, I admit.” She wet her lips. “You see, I didn’t think I could get pregnant. John and I had a very—” She broke off as the heat rose to her face. “We had a very active sex life, and we never had a baby. We weren’t preventing, either.”

The doctor nodded. “Did it ever occur to you that John was the one who was sterile?” He added quickly, “I don’t know that he was, but neither of you were ever tested. People are quick to assume the problem is with the woman, but men often can perform but not supply the sperm necessary to produce children.”

“Yeah, it was all right with us if we had kids, but we weren’t actively pursuing the possibility, either. We were happy with each other.” Harley pressed her lips together. She and John had thought they had all the time in the world.

“I’m very sorry, my dear.” Dr. Champagne rose and patted her on the shoulder. “What are you going to tell your friend?”

Harley shook her head. She was startled and confused by this news. How would a man over sixty feel about being a father? She frowned. “I don’t know. Nothing yet.”

When she stepped into the outer office, Abisi was waiting for her. He rose and slipped an arm around her waist. “What did Dr. Champagne say?”

“I’m fine.” She nestled against him as they walked into the hall and toward the elevators. “He thinks I was just under stress yesterday and very worn out. He did blood work. We’ll get the results in a couple of days.” She indicated the bandage on her arm.

Abisi studied her. “Are you telling me everything?”

“Do you think I’m lying?” She narrowed her eyes. “Nothing is wrong with me. I guess I was more stressed yesterday than I thought.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t make a big deal of this.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. “Why don’t we go to London for a week or two? If everything is okay with your checkup, we can spend some time seeing the town. You and Jessica can get to know each other better. You can meet Geoffrey. Besides, I’d like your take on what’s going on between them.”

“You want to keep me away from the crazy lady.” Harley frowned. In school, she’d been the bullied kid, and she’d vowed no one would treat her that way when she was older. The thought of running from the bitch sent waves of heat raging through her veins.

Abisi pressed the elevator button. “Wouldn’t you like to see a real fashion show? Jessica’s employer is going to unveil her new collection while we’re there.”

Harley sighed. Maybe getting away was what she needed. Her life was suddenly too complicated, and Judy would willingly keep Nico for a couple of weeks. It had been years since she’d roamed London streets, and she had fond memories of the bustling city. She’d last been to London with John. Sadness briefly seeped through her skin, but she fought against it. She forced herself to smile as they walked through the elevator doors. “Sure, why not? I’m unemployed.”

“And I haven’t taken a vacation in over two years.” Abisi kissed her lips lightly as they descended to the first floor.

Harley cringed as Donna cried, “You’re kidding, right?”

“Wish I were.” Harley stood in the doorway of Donna’s studio. Donna had converted the first floor of her Uptown home into a studio that housed her ongoing projects. Her Julia Street gallery housed her finished work.

Donna was mixing a solution in a metal bucket. She stared at Harley. “So what are you going to do? Have you told him?”

Harley shook her head. “No, I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“If you didn’t know, it’s not something you can hide.” Donna continued with her mixing.

“He might never have to know.” Harley couldn’t believe her own words. Throughout her whole upbringing, the sanctity of life had been a mantra. Eden had believed in it. The nuns had drummed it into her head, but Harley really didn’t think she could face pregnancy and raising a child. Not at forty.

“You’d really consider terminating?” Donna strode over to a washbasin and cleansed her hands, wiping them on a towel.

“Okay, I know in reality, there are people who have children when they’re older than I am. My parents were thirty-plus when I was born.” She shrugged. A sudden realization hit her like the force of a bullet. “I’m just not a kid person.”

“You’ve been a teacher your whole life.” Donna laughed and shook her head. “What do you mean you’re not a kid person?”

“I taught older kids, D. A teenager is another animal. Hell, I was an only child. I never had to wipe noses and soothe tears on the playground. Oh, I like kids. I baby sat Carville, and he was a sweet little boy. I like the kids in the neighborhood, but I can be nice to them and send them home. I’ve never had to get up in the middle of the night and change a diaper or bounce a baby on my hip.” Harley had cared for her mother diligently in her final days, but she and Eden had always been best friends. She suspected that she would love a child once it was born, but she wasn’t sure of that. Would it be fair to risk a child’s happiness with an indifferent or uncaring mother? If she’d been younger, and if John had lived, she probably would have accepted children as part of a fresh, blooming love. This new love had developed when she was older and not as willing to take risks.

Harley added hastily, “Besides, I don’t know how he’ll feel about having a baby in the twilight years.”

Donna almost brayed. She put an arm around Harley as they trod downstairs and into the kitchen. She searched her refrigerator. “The twilight years? Come on, Harley, you make him sound like he’s headed for the cemetery.”

“Well, think about it.” Harley sighed, exasperated. “When this child would be graduating high school, Abisi will be close to eighty. Will he like being wheeled into the ceremony? He’ll have grandchildren close in age to his own child.” She gratefully accepted the bottled water Donna handed her. “Can’t you just see it? The three-year-old grandkid will call the six-year-old Uncle So-and-So.”

Donna grinned. “Well, look on the bright side. Maybe Jessica won’t have kids.”

“Yeah, sure.” Harley sipped her water. “Besides, I don’t know where this is going.”

Donna rolled her eyes. “The guy loves you, idiot. He was hysterical when he thought you would die.”

“I know he loves me, but we haven’t talked marriage yet.” Harley sat at the kitchen table.

“Is that what you want?”

Harley sighed and shrugged. “I don’t want him to feel obligated or trapped. If we’d talked about it before all of this happened, I’d feel better about telling him.”

Donna smiled. “Well, think about it in London. It sounds romantic.” She added quickly, “Do you need me to keep Nico?”

“Nope, Judy is. Nico would just jump around your studio and make a mess.”

“I can lock the studio when I’m not in it.” Donna sighed. “Harley, you find things to worry about.” She looked at Harley with raised eyebrows. “Have you told Judy?”

“Hell, no. I’d never hear the end of it. She just thinks it’s good we’re going to London since Crazy Bitch is still out there.” Harley made quotation marks around her pet name for Kimberly.

Donna nodded. “So do I. Let that nut crawl into a deep hole and stay there.”

“I’d forgotten how exciting London could be.” Harley stood with Abisi in Gatwick Airport, waiting for their luggage. She’d slept in his arms during the journey and had hurried into the bathroom to fix her makeup as they had touched down.

“You won’t worry too much about Nico, will you?” Abisi reached for the suitcase being ferried around them.

“I was at first.” A lump developed in Harley’s chest. The dog was like her child in many ways. She forced a smile. “He’s never been away from me for too long. John adopted him for me when he deployed, and even later, my mother looked after him if I went somewhere. He loves his Aunt Judy, though, and I know her. She’ll make a sandwich for him every day.”

“So we can enjoy London?” He collected the last of their luggage and grinned at her.

“I don’t know about you, but I intend to have a great time.” Harley and Abisi wheeled their suitcases through the airport and then out into the terminal.

Jessica was standing next to a tall, fair-haired man. They were both smiling and waving enthusiastically. Harley glanced at Abisi. “I take it that’s Geoffrey.”

“Yes, I’m happy to say.” Abisi linked an arm through hers as they approached the couple.

Harley and Jessica hugged enthusiastically. “I’m really glad to see you again, Jessica.”

“So am I.” The girl’s smile seemed genuine. She introduced her fiancé and then hugged her father tightly.

Jessica immediately liked Geoffrey Entwistle. He clasped her hand in a firm handshake and pumped Abisi’s hand happily.

“I’m very glad you’re both here. Very, very glad.” Geoffrey smiled broadly and insisted on wheeling Harley’s bag from the terminal. His fair, reddish hair was thinning at the top, but he had piercing blue eyes, unlined skin, and a beguiling dimple when he smiled.

Jessica waxed eloquent about the upcoming days. “Naturally, we’ll bring you to your hotel first. I know you both want to change and rest.” She smiled at Harley. “You look wonderful after eight hours on a plane. I wish I could do what you just did and look so gorgeous. You’re absolutely glowing.”

Harley drew in a breath. If Jessica only knew how true the statement was, she’d probably blush crimson. Harley hoped that her face wasn’t as red as she imagined she was. She forced a carefree air into her tone. “Well, I think you’re just being generous. I probably look like a truck hit me.”

“No, I’m not just flattering you. I swear it.” Jessica had plans for them. Of course, they would immediately go to their accommodations and rest. Tonight, they could meet for an early dinner and then attend the launch of the new collection. “Dad, there are a few dresses that would totally flatter Harley’s figure. You should buy them for her.”

Harley winced but forced a smile on her face. She didn’t know how long she’d be able to wear designer clothes. Of course, she could say nothing to him, and . . . . Suddenly, she shuddered. This man loved her. Of that, she was certain. Didn’t she at least owe him the truth? Yes, but not now. This trip promised to be too idyllic.

Geoffrey and Jessica deposited them at the hotel. Jessica had to do some last minute work with models. “Yes, everything has to look just right. We’re hoping to blow away all the critics with this collection.”

Geoffrey had to work with his firm. He chatted affably. “We’re doing some work currently to see that immigrants, mainly Pakistani nationals, receive legal advice. I like the pro bono part of my job, frankly.”

Harley murmured to Abisi, “Jessica could do worse. He’s handsome and sincere.”

Abisi grinned. “That’s what I think, too. I hope they marry quickly.”

Harley and Abisi were staying at a bed and breakfast in the heart of Piccadilly. It was a traditional Tudor structure with a winding staircase. They wheeled their luggage to the desk. Abisi rang a bell. The guest book and quill pen looked like something out of Dickens. Within a few seconds, the shortest woman Harley had ever seen entered from an adjoining room.

Mrs. Weston, the proprietor, was gray-haired and as round as she was tall. Her face was round and remarkably unlined, but her gnarled hands showed signs of advanced arthritis. She fussed over them when she made her way to the desk. “I’ve fresh towels and soap for you poor dears.” She called to a trim Asian housemaid heading up the stairs, “Is everything ready for Dr. and Mrs. Sharif?”

Harley shot him a quick glance. She raised her eyebrows. “When did we exchange ‘I do’s’?” She watched his momentary unease with some amusement but was surprised by the pleasurable sensation coursing through her midsection.

He grinned and winked. “I thought it would be best, more discreet. I didn’t want to expose you to scandal.”

“Indeed?” Harley linked an arm through his as he signed papers at the front desk.

Mrs. Weston turned to Harley and gushed, “Poor child. You’ve traveled so far, but you look radiant.”

Harley’s face grew hot, and her heart thumped against her ribs. How many people would say those words? First Jessica, now Mrs. Weston. She’d never believed it when people said pregnant women emitted some aura. Luckily, Harley wasn’t fighting morning sickness and was still amazingly fit, but she knew that in time weight gain, stretch marks, and swelling would curtail her activities. None of those possibilities filled her with delight. Why was pregnancy touted as such a beautiful experience and the culmination of womanhood? Were other women seeing something in her she herself was rejecting or to which she was blind? Hoping Mrs. Weston would take the hint and leave, Harley ran a hand through her rather disheveled hair. “I am a little tired.”

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