Wilder Hearts: Once Upon a Pregnancy

Simone took the older woman’s hand in greeting as Mike introduced them.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Simone said.

“We won’t be staying long,” Mike added. “I just brought Dad’s edger back.”

“It’s too bad that you can’t stay,” Rhonda said. “I’ve got some iced tea and leftover apple cobbler I can feed you. That is, if your father didn’t get into it while I was at the market earlier this morning. He’s got such a sweet tooth.”

“I don’t know about Simone,” Mike said, “but I could probably be coaxed into staying long enough to have some coffee and cobbler. And speaking of Dad, where is he?”

“Outside.” Rhonda brushed at the errant curl with the back of her hand. “He’s working on the new gazebo. It’s nearly done.”

“My dad retired after forty years as a police officer,” Mike told Simone. “And ever since he left the department, he’s taken an interest in the yard.”

“Actually,” Rhonda said, “he’s always liked working with plants and flowers, but when our children were young, it seemed as though every kid in the neighborhood used to hang out at our house.”

Mike cupped his hand around his mouth as though he meant to whisper, yet he kept his voice loud enough for his mom to hear. “Our friends all wanted to play here because of all the cookies and brownies they used to get.”

Rhonda laughed, a warm, hearty lilt that a person could get used to hearing. “Okay, so I used to like knowing where my kids were at all times. And I wasn’t beyond bribing them and their friends.”

“Aha!” Mike said. “And here I thought you spent so much time in the kitchen because you loved to cook and bake.”

Rhonda crossed her arms and grinned. “A mom’s gotta do what a mom’s gotta do.”

Even Simone found herself smiling.

“So,” Mike added, “with five of us kids living here, the doors and gates were swinging open and closed repeatedly.”

“That’s true. And poor Sam couldn’t seem to do much in the yard except mow. The kids trampled any flowers or shrubs he tried to plant.”

“So now that we’re finally adults, he’s making up for lost time.”

“You ought to see the new rose garden.” Rhonda pointed to a vase on the kitchen table, where a bouquet of flowers in shades of red, yellow and pink was displayed.

“Come on,” Mike said to Simone. “I’ll introduce you to my dad.”

“Will you excuse me?” Simone asked Rhonda.

“Of course. I’ll put on a pot of coffee and dish up the cobbler while you’re outside.”

Simone followed Mike as he led her to the sliding glass door. Through the window, she could see a lovely backyard.

Mr. O’Rourke, a stocky silver-haired man wearing a pair of khaki shorts, a bright yellow shirt and a green baseball cap, had his back to the house and was stooped over, pulling weeds from around the base of a rosebush bearing red buds.

When Mike pushed open the sliding door and stepped onto the patio, the older man looked up and grinned.

“Hey, Pop.” Mike placed a hand on Simone’s back as he escorted her across the lawn. “I brought your edger back.”

The man’s grin stretched into a broad smile. “Looks like you brought more than a lawn tool.”

Mike chuckled. “Yep. This is Simone Garner, one of the nurses at Walnut River General.” He then went on to introduce her to his father.

“I’d shake hands,” Sam O’Rourke said, “but I’m afraid that would get you all dirty.”

“Your wife was right,” Simone said. “That’s a lovely rose garden.”

“Thanks. It’s coming along nicely, although I’m still learning how to take care of it properly.” Sam reached into his hip pocket and pulled out a pair of clippers. Then he cut off a blood-red bud, leaving the stem long. He snipped off the thorns before handing it to her. “Here you go, Simone. If you put this in water, it’ll bloom for days. And the fragrance will surprise you.”

“Thank you.” She took the rose and sniffed the blossom. Sam was right; it smelled wonderful.

“You might want to come inside and wash up,” Mike said. “Mom’s putting on some coffee and cutting into the cobbler.”

“That little woman is a real prize, but I gotta tell you, I’ve put on twenty-five pounds since my retirement.” Sam patted his stomach, which hung over his belt. “But I’m not going to worry about that until Monday, when I start my new diet.”

They went inside, where the aroma of coffee mingled with the scent of cinnamon and nutmeg. Sam cleaned up at the kitchen sink, then joined everyone else at the table, where they made small talk while eating the best apple cobbler Simone had ever tasted.

Every once in a while, she caught one or the other of Mike’s parents stealing a surreptitious glance her way.

Were they wondering if she and Mike were dating? Did they know she was pregnant?

Before they’d come inside the house, Mike had insisted that he hadn’t told them about the baby. Hopefully, he’d been truthful. It made her feel…uneasy to think Sam and Rhonda might be privy to the news, that they might sit in judgment over her decision to give up their grandchild.

But wouldn’t it be worse to be a lousy mother?

Simone passed on the coffee, asking for water instead. And as they ate, Sam mentioned that Mike’s sister Kathy had just been hired as a reporter for the Walnut River Courier, and that his younger brother Dave, was going to propose to the young woman he’d been dating since high school.

“Sammy has a Little League game on Saturday,” Rhonda said. “He’s going to play shortstop.” She turned to Simone and explained, “Sammy is Aaron’s son and our oldest grandchild.”

“Are you going to the game?” Mike asked.

Sam beamed. “We wouldn’t miss it.”

“I’m even going to wear my lucky Baseball-Mama shirt.” Rhonda turned to Simone. “I used to practically live down at the ball field when Mike and his brothers were young. And it’s great to have a reason to go back and watch the kids play.”

“I know it’s only T-ball,” Sam added, “but that boy is a natural-born athlete. And I’m not just saying that because he’s my namesake.”

“You ought to stop by on Saturday,” Rhonda told Mike. “Sammy’s game starts at noon.”

“I’ve got to work,” Mike said, “but I’ll try to make the next one.”

“And bring Simone with you,” Sam said, a twinkle in his eye.

Simone didn’t comment. She was both touched to have been included yet discomfited at the same time.

Before long, they’d finished their bowls of cobbler. What was with all the conflicting emotions?

Simone found herself wanting to find an excuse to stay longer, but she wasn’t any good at dealing with warm, fuzzy feelings. She always seemed to stiffen at the wrong time or say something that came across as awkward.

She did much better at the hospital, where she could just do the job she’d been trained to do. Where her efforts to provide comfort or understanding actually worked.