She's Having a Baby

There was an earnest, faraway look in her eyes as she said, “I didn’t when I first found out that I was pregnant.” And then she laughed. “My first daughter was the result of an all-but-out-of-body, wild, impetuous experience one star-filled night on the beach with a handsome journalist who was going overseas to cover war stories the very next day.”

MacKenzie vaguely remembered the woman had two beautiful little girls and an even more beautiful husband who earned his living writing for one of the larger newspapers. “Isn’t your husband a journalist?”

Ann winked at her. “Turned out to be one and the same.” The doctor took hold of her hands, which made her feel just for a moment a sense of calm, that things would work out. “What I’m saying is that perhaps you and the baby’s father—”

And the calm vanished. She shook her head. “Not going to happen. He went back to a wife I didn’t know he had.”

MacKenzie sighed deeply. Everything always happened for a reason, her grandmother had been fond of saying. Maybe there was a reason behind this, too, although for the life of her, she didn’t see one.

“Besides, looking back, maybe I didn’t really love him in quite that ‘forever’ kind of way.” Helpless to continue, she shrugged.

Ann laid a hand on her shoulder. “Things have a way of working out. You’ll see. If not one way, then another.” And then she paused just before leaving. Her eyes were drawn to the small oval at the hollow of MacKenzie’s throat. “Nice cameo. New?”

MacKenzie fingered it. So far, it was turning out to be a dud. “Yes, it is. Thanks.”

Ann nodded, then dug into one of the pockets of her lab coat. “If you need to talk, this is my private number.” Ann pressed a card into her hand before leaving the room.

MacKenzie was off the table in a blink of an eye. There was a show to oversee.

She didn’t remember the trip back. It was one huge blur, hidden behind the recurring mantra: You’re pregnant, you’re pregnant. Her head throbbed.

The call to Jeff was made the first chance she got, right after the program had wrapped for the day. Even as she tapped out the old, familiar number, she could feel the butterflies in her stomach going into high gear again. But it had to be done. There was no way around it. Jeff had a right to know. And she wanted to get this over with as fast as possible.

Jeff listened in silence as she choked out the words. When she finished, he was sympathetic and supportive, all the things that had attracted her to him in the first place.

And then he said, “Listen, Mac, if you need money to get this taken care of—”

“I don’t,” she said, cutting him off before he could say anything further.

“Then you’re keeping it?” There was a clear note of surprise in his voice.

Of course she was keeping the baby, she thought indignantly. How could she not? She’d always had a fondness for all creatures smaller than she was. She just wasn’t relishing the notion that her whole life would be replumbed and restructured.

Hormones mounting another rebellion in her system, MacKenzie didn’t like the way he dehumanized what was happening. “It’s a baby, Jeff, not an ‘it.’”

There was another long pause, as if he were choosing his words carefully. “I’m not interested in being a father, Mac.”

Something shut down in her. It wasn’t that she was expecting him suddenly to declare that he’d been blind and could now see and from here on in everything was going to be coming up roses for them, but she didn’t like the guarded way he was approaching this. As if she wanted something from him. As if he were bracing himself for some kind of shakedown.

Her voice grew more formal. “I know that. I just thought you had a right to know that there would be someone walking around with half your gene pool.”

She swore she heard a sigh of relief. When Jeff uttered the next words, he sounded more like his old self. “I’ll have my lawyer draw up papers making arrangements for child-support payments.”

For some reason, that just made her angrier. “I didn’t call you for that.”

“I know. But I want to do this. I’ll be in touch.” He hung up as if afraid that she might still hit him up for something.

She let the receiver drop back into the cradle within the small cubbyhole that was her office. And then left it at that. Left it with a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach right beside the seedling that was her baby.

Her baby, not his, not anyone else’s. Hers, she thought with a sudden cloud of tears welling up within her eyes.

Grabbing a tissue, she blocked a wave of exasperation. There they went again, her emotions climbing onto the same roller coaster they’d been riding for the last week. Damn but she was going to have to get a handle on all this emotional stuff before she found herself being utterly derailed.

Somehow, she made it through the remainder of the day, avoiding Dakota’s probing questions and getting everything prepared for the next day’s taping. Instead of staying beyond six, the way she normally did, she made it out the first second she could.

Pausing only long enough to pick up the take-out food she’d ordered earlier, MacKenzie had every intention of going home and locking herself up in her apartment. She wanted to keep the world at bay for as long as she could. Heaven knew, this wasn’t something that she could keep a secret indefinitely, although there had been women who had managed just that because of minimal weight gain and a bevy of very wide, very loose clothing.

She doubted she’d be that lucky.

The same truck was still there when she pulled into the parking lot behind her complex. But this time it wasn’t blocking her space. The vehicle was stretched out over three empty spaces in guest parking. Some of the tenants with visitors weren’t going to be happy tonight.

Not her concern, she thought, guiding her Mustang into her spot.

The take-out bag still felt mildly warm, which meant that the food within the cartons was at least equally so, if not more. The thought of warm food was oddly comforting.

Until it hit her mouth, she thought wryly. After that, all bets were off.

She picked up her purse and shifted the bag to her other side. Approaching her apartment, she saw that the door to the apartment beside hers was wide open. She recognized a piece of furniture from the truck and tensed.

This meant that the guy she’d all but robbed of his manhood was going to be her new neighbor. MacKenzie caught her lower lip between her teeth. Talk about making a bad first impression….

Pausing, she peered inside the apartment but didn’t see him anywhere. She squelched the desire to go inside, not wanting him to add the word trespasser to his list of grievances against her. The living room was in a state of upheaval. There were boxes clustered everywhere. Had he been moving in all day? Of course he had. Most men were domestically challenged. Moving was a major event to them, right up there with wars and famine and flash floods.

MacKenzie knew she should be moving on before her mildly warm dinner became stone cold. But she’d been diagnosed as terminally curious as a child and couldn’t quite get her feet to move away from the doorway.

Was there a Mrs. New Neighbor somewhere? The signs she saw said otherwise. The furniture seemed definitely masculine, but then some women favored clean, unobstructed lines and minimal furnishings.

He was nowhere in sight.

“Hello?” she called out. When there was no answer, she raised her voice and repeated the greeting.

This time, she got a response.

Quade came walking out from the rear of the apartment. The moment he saw her, a note of tension invaded his otherwise impassive expression. She was carrying something in a brown paper bag and her offending purse/weapon was suspended from her wrist. Quade watched it warily, then raised his eyes to her face.

“Should I be grabbing a tray or something to deflect any more blows?”

MacKenzie laughed and flashed him what she felt was her best smile, the one she knew took in her eyes, as well as her lips. “Sorry about this morning.”

“Okay.” He said the word as if it were meant to terminate any further conversation.

By all rights, this was her cue to withdraw. But she didn’t like the idea of having someone living next door who bore a grudge against her. It didn’t take much imagination to see that was what was in the works here. What was needed right now was a little damage control.

MacKenzie thought of the take-out bag tucked against her side.

Because he’d turned his back on her and had begun tearing the tape off a box that was almost as tall as she was, she took a step inside the apartment.

“Hungry?”