Teresa Southwick - It Takes Three

“I’m aware of that. And, by the way, that was quite a speech.”

“It’s from the heart, Con. If I lose this baby, too, it will be like losing my husband all over again.” She took a deep breath to relieve the sudden pressure in her chest. “I promised David I would make sure part of him went on.”

“And you’ve done that,” Connie said, sympathy lacing the words.

“Not yet. Not until this child is born. To do that, I will not breathe a word to anyone—”

“What am I? Chopped liver?”

“You’re my best friend. I had to tell you. Besides, you’d have known. Sort of a best friend ESP.” She shrugged. “But I will not discuss this baby with anyone else until the first trimester is under my belt.”

“So to speak.”

“Yes.” Thea reluctantly gave in to a smile.

“Not even your family?”

“Especially not them. Mom and Dad can’t be emotionally involved until the risky first three months are done. They were crushed the other two times and I don’t want them hurt again. Or my brother and sister, either.”

“You don’t need to protect everyone, Thea.”

“Not everyone. Just my family, including this life inside me. Con, I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want children. Even when I was a little girl, I was drawn to babies. When I see a pregnant woman, or someone with kids in a stroller, the yearning to have one is so powerful, it’s almost a pain inside me. Does that sound crazy?”

“Yes.” Connie tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear. “But I understand. If I’d never had a couple of little misery-makers, I know I’d feel as if something was missing from my life.”

Connie’s choice of words belied the fact that she was a devoted wife and mother. She’d been Thea’s rock through everything: when Thea and David were trying unsuccessfully to conceive; the subsequent exams that indirectly led to discovering his cancer; freezing sperm so they could have children following his chemotherapy; remission; the two IVF attempts that were unsuccessful and so incredibly heartbreaking; David’s relapse and death. Now this one last try.

“I will do anything,” Thea said, “to insure the success of this pregnancy.”

“And I’ll help in any way I can.” Connie made a gesture, as if she were zipping her lips.

“Thanks.”

Connie grinned. “So tell me about Scott Matthews.”

“He’s got baggage, big-time.”

“Who doesn’t?”

“You, for one.” Thea toyed with the diamond-studded heart on a delicate chain around her neck. “He’s raised his two girls on his own—a father for the first time at twenty. It was an enormous responsibility and he was understandably upset to learn his daughter used a pregnancy test. And concerned she’ll repeat his history.”

“Wow, that’s a lot of information.”

“I guess he felt comfortable talking to me. That happens sometimes with a complete stranger.”

“And how would you know that? Sharing information isn’t something you do,” Connie pointed out.

“And you know why. When David was sick, I found out the hard way that sharing details can be a huge mistake.” One she didn’t plan to repeat. Burn me once, shame on you. Burn me twice, shame on me.

“Still,” Connie said, “there’s something different about you since I last saw you.”

“Probably the pregnancy glow,” she said wryly. “Although I think that’s an old wives’ tale. I haven’t got the energy to glow.”

“Don’t be so sure. There’s a sparkle in your eyes. Could it be because of Scott Matthews?”

“I think someone’s been whacked with the whimsical stick,” Thea said. “I’m the same as usual. Besides, Scott joked about wanting to be alone when his daughter goes to college. But I think many a truth is spoken in jest.”

Thea could tell him, alone wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She wouldn’t share that with her friend and give her any ideas. But the truth was, as a caterer, she cooked for many people, but no one special. There was no one waiting for her at home, no one to take care of, no one to talk about her day with.

“No one’s whacked me with anything,” Connie said. “I just know you. What does Scott Matthews look like?”

“Oh, come on—”

“Humor me.”

Thea let out a big sigh. “He’s tall. Dark hair. Blue eyes.”

“Not bad. What does he do for a living?”

“Kendra told me he’s a building contractor,” Thea answered. “And if his house is any indication, he does all right financially.”

“So you had this communication thing going on, yet you’re blowing him off?”

“He was annoyed that I met with his daughter behind his back. For Whom the Bell Toils didn’t get the job. I have no reason to see him again. That doesn’t constitute blowing him off. There’s nothing to blow off.”

She heard the ding-dong from the reception area indicating someone had come in the front door. “Anyone here?” The voice was decidedly masculine.

“I’ll get it,” Connie said, untying her apron.

“No. I’ll go. Saved by the bell.” Thea stood and grinned at her friend. “Now I know how Kendra felt when her father started in on her.”

Thea walked through the door and was surprised to see the father in question standing there. Her stomach did a funny little shimmy. She knew it was too early for that movement to be about the baby. So it had to be all about Scott Matthews. She hadn’t expected to be attracted to a man again. She’d thought that part of her had died with her husband.

She smiled at Scott. “Hello again.”

“Thea.” One corner of his wonderful mouth quirked up. “Or should I call you Obi-Wan?”

“Excuse me?”

“You did see Star Wars?”

“Of course. But I don’t get the reference.”

“The teacher and the student. Are you sure you don’t have children?”

None that she’d cop to just yet. “No. I mean yes, I’m sure. Why? What are you talking about?”

“Wise you are, as well as beautiful,” he said, imitating one of the movie characters.

“I think that’s Yoda-speak. But if it was a bona fide compliment, thank you.”

“It was. And you’re welcome.”

“Why am I wise?” she asked, refusing to acknowledge the beautiful part of that compliment.

“I managed to talk to Kendra without anyone leaving the room in hysterics, including me.”

She laughed. “What happened?”

“I took your advice and simply listened and asked questions. I tried not to lecture or offer advice.”

“And that didn’t make you hysterical?” she couldn’t resist asking.

“Of course it did. I’m a guy. And I build things. So the need to fix it now is especially strong. But I was a brave little soldier and didn’t let it show.”

“Wow. Congressional Medal of Honor material.”

He leaned a jean-clad hip against her desk and half sat. “It almost killed me not to bring up the pregnancy test, but I tried it your way.”

“And?”

“She admitted she feels bad when there’s an event and her mother isn’t there. Which proves your theory—listen you must, then talk to you she will.”

Thea laughed. “I didn’t say it like that.”

“No. But the message was the same. I hope by not lecturing this time, she’ll be more open to talking about it when I bring up the subject of the pregnancy test. Which I plan to in the very near future.” He frowned and worry lines bracketed his nose and mouth.

“Good instincts. Pick and choose your battles. Figure out which hill you want to die on.”

“Actually, I’d prefer not to die on any of them. But I suppose a single battle isn’t critical as long as I win the war.”

“Well said, General Solo.” She saluted. His responding grin hit her in the midsection like a fireball. She backed away and rested her backside against Connie’s desk.