Danielle Steel: Changes

Peter looked surprised. “Don't you want your baby born in the new house?” In truth, she did, the nesting instinct was strong, but she still had three major interviews to do before she left on her four-month leave.

“It's your baby too, by the way.”

“Our baby.” And with that, his beeper went off, and the real estate agent stared at them.

“Don't you two ever stop?”

“Not much.” Mel smiled. They were almost used to it after being married for eight months, during which time he had done nineteen heart transplants, countless bypasses, and she had done twenty-one major interviews and the news five nights a week. And predictably, the show's ratings had gone up. Peter had gone to call his office in another room just then, and he came rushing back and kissed Mel good-bye.

“I've got to go. We have a heart.” It was a donor they had desperately been waiting for, and he had almost given up hope. “Will you finish here?” She nodded and he vanished, and they heard his car speed away, as the real estate agent shook his head again and Mel only smiled.

CHAPTER 33

“… and thank you, God, for my Grandma”—he looked around sheepishly and grinned as he lowered his voice— “and my new bike. Amen.” The entire Thanksgiving table laughed. Matthew had turned seven that week, and his grandmother had given him a brand-new red bike. And then suddenly he clasped his hands again and squeezed his eyes shut. “And thank you for Mel too.” He looked apologetically at Val and Jess after that, but it was too late to start again. Everyone was dying to attack their food. Peter had already carved the turkey, and Pam had cooked her favorite recipe for candied yams. The twins had helped with the rest, and everyone was in a festive mood, including Mel, who claimed she had no room for anything. The baby felt huge now. Peter had teased her for the past two months that it was twins again, but the doctor swore that it was not. He could only hear one heart this time, and despite her age, she had opted not to have the amniotic-fluid test, so they had no idea what the baby was. But whatever it was, it was large. It was due in another two days, and most of all, Mel was grateful to have Thanksgiving with them. She had been worried that she would be in the hospital by then. And although they had a new housekeeper, she had wanted the day off, so Mel had cooked the dinner herself.

“Seconds anyone?” Peter looked around with a contented smile. His latest transplant patient was doing well. And they had moved into the new house three weeks before. They could still smell fresh paint all around them, but they didn't seem to mind. Everything looked beautiful and fresh, and each of them had their own rooms, even the new baby whose room was already filled with toys they all had bought. Matthew had contributed a teddy bear and an old set of cowboy guns, and without saying a word to Mel, Pam had knitted a little dress for the baby to wear home from the hospital. She had been desperately nervous about doing it right, and the entire family knew about the project except Mel, who cried when she opened the gift on her last day at work, when she came home, feeling the letdown of her last Friday-night news for a while.

It had taken them all almost a year to settle down, and in some ways they never would. She would always be dashing off to cover the news, and Peter would be gone at two A.M. to try to repair another damaged heart. But there was something different between them all now. It was a stronger bond than had been there before. They had survived a lot in a year, the threats on Mel, the disastrous romance between Val and Mark … the new baby … the threat the new marriage presented to them all … even the ghost of Anne. Mel had brought the portrait with them; it hung in Pam's room now and it looked well there, and her furniture from New York was unpacked and out of storage at long last.

“Happy, love?” Peter smiled down at her as they sat by the fire in their room. The children were all downstairs in the huge playroom near the pool, playing games and having fun. And Mel looked up at Peter and took his hand.

“Yes, except I ate too much.”

“It doesn't even show.” They both laughed at the enormous bulge which seemed to shift slightly from side to side as Mel watched the baby kick. It seemed to do that constantly these days, and she was ready to be rid of it. Especially after tonight. With Thanksgiving done, she felt free to have the child, she told Peter as they went to bed that night. “Don't say that tonight, or he'll hear you and come out.” They both laughed and went to bed, and two hours later, Mel got up and felt a familiar pain in her lower back. She got up and sat down in a chair, but all she wanted to do was walk around. She wandered downstairs and looked out into the garden that would be pretty the following spring, but already looked nice now, and sat down in their living room, feeling it was their home, and not just his or hers, but something they had built together and started fresh, like a whole new life.

She went back to their bedroom then, and tried to lie down again, but the baby was kicking too hard and suddenly she felt a short searing pain in her lower abdomen and she gave a small gasp. She sat up and waited to see what would come next, and suddenly there was another pain, and with a feeling of exultation, she touched Peter's hand.

“Hmm?” He barely stirred, and it was only four o'clock.

“Peter.” She whispered his name after the third pain came. She knew it would be hours, but she didn't want to be alone. She wanted to share the excitement of it all with him. This was the moment they had waited for, Peter most of all.

“What?” He suddenly picked up his head and looked at her more seriously. “Maybe it's just a false alarm.” She looked down at her enormous stomach and laughed, but the laughter was brief as another pain came, this time joined with a searing arc that shot across her back. She gasped and grabbed his hand, and he supported her as she breathed. And when the pain was over he looked at the clock. “How often are you getting them?”

She laughed again and looked at him with love in her eyes. “I don't know. I forgot to look.”

“Oh my God.” He sat up in bed. Hearts he knew, but babies were something else to him, and he had been secretly nervous about her for nine months. “How long have you been up then?”

“I don't know. Most of the night.” It was five o'clock by then.

“How long were you in labor with the twins?”

“Hell, I don't know. That was seventeen and a half years ago. A while, I guess.”

“You're a big help.” He sat up, still keeping an eye on her. “I'll call the doctor. You get dressed.” She had another pain this time, and it seemed longer than the ones before. He was panicking but he didn't want it to show. He did not want to deliver his own child at home. He wanted her at the hospital in case anything went wrong. “Go on.” He helped her up, and she came back a minute later with a vague look.

“What'll I wear?”

“For chrissake, Mel! Anything … jeans … a dress …” She was smiling to herself as she padded off again, and then the waters broke, and she called out to him from the bathroom where she stood wrapped in towels. The obstetrician told Peter to bring her in right away, and they left a note for the kids on the kitchen table where they'd all see it when they got up. “Gone to pick baby up at hospital, Love, Mom” she wrote with a smile, as Peter urged her out the door. “Will you hurry up?”

“Why?” She looked supremely calm and Peter envied her.