An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

“Oh!” Allison let go of the platter, causing Jocelyn to back up several paces in quick succession. “What can I help with?”

Thinking fast, Rebecca said, “The nursery. Can you pop upstairs for a second?”

“Of course I can.” Allison tucked a few strands of hair into place before focusing on Jocelyn. “Do what you want with those sandwiches, but I’m telling you there are not enough on that tray. The shower will barely get started and you’ll be back here refilling it.”

Jocelyn set the platter on the counter while tossing Rebecca a grateful smile. “It’ll be fine. Go help Rebecca, Mom. I have this under control.”

“Well, we’ll see, won’t we?” Allison whisked her petite form to the other side of the kitchen. “Are you coming, Rebecca?”

“Go on up. I’ll be there in a minute.” Her mother nodded and exited the room. Rebecca waited until she heard Allison’s footsteps on the stairs before facing her sister. “Can you please try to get along with her today?”

Jocelyn’s eyes—a mirror of their mother’s—narrowed. “I am trying. She’s ridiculous! She wasn’t even supposed to come with me this morning. She’s a guest! But no, she had to force her way into this like she does everything else.”

“She means well. I know she’s been more high-strung lately than normal, but she loves us.” Rebecca stepped forward and pulled her sister into a tight hug. Well, as tight as she could with a seven-and-a-half-month-size stomach between them. “I’m having a baby. You’re leaving for grad school in the fall. For the first time in forever, Mom and Dad will be completely alone in that house. Give her a break.”

Disengaging from the hug, Jocelyn said, “I didn’t think of it that way.”

“Well, start thinking of it that way. They’ll miss you.”

Jocelyn exhaled a long, drawn-out sigh. “Fine. I’ll add more stupid sandwiches to the platter, but I don’t see how that changes anything. You’re still having a baby and I’m still moving out of casa à la crazy in a few more months.”

“It makes her feel good. Who cares why?”

“She’s probably right, anyway.” Jocelyn coughed. “Just don’t tell her I said that.”

“I won’t.” Rebecca chuckled as she made her way upstairs.

Her family was her salvation. When she shared she was having a baby, they’d supported her instantly. Even her story about using a sperm bank to conceive had been accepted easily enough. Sure, there’d been a fair amount of concern, but that was natural. Being single and pregnant wasn’t on most parents’ to-be list for their daughters.

Entering the nursery, Rebecca found her mother sitting in the antique rocking chair, her eyes misty and emotional. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, honey. I’m fine. I don’t know what got into me.” Allison shook her head, as if surprised by her earlier vehemence. “Your sister’s all grown-up. I guess I need to accept that.”

“You do, but I imagine it isn’t easy.” Rebecca leaned against the wall to support her aching back. “And I’ll need you lots after this little one is born. Six more weeks. I can’t believe how fast this pregnancy is flying by.”

“I’ll be here for you every step of the way,” Allison promised. “I can’t wait to meet my granddaughter. I only wish…”

“Wish what?”

“I worry, that’s all.”

“I’m ready for this,” Rebecca said with a glance around the fully furnished and ready-to-go nursery. “You don’t need to worry.”

“You tell me that when your daughter is twenty-nine years old, pregnant and doesn’t have a partner to support her.” Allison blew out a shaky breath. “I know you believe you’ll never love another man like you loved Jesse, but honey-girl, you will.”

Jesse. Rebecca’s heart still pinged at the memory of her first real love. He’d joined the Army and was killed in what the media liked to call “friendly” fire. If a person ended up dead, there was nothing friendly about it. Losing Jesse had been devastating, and it was because of this loss that Rebecca started writing to men and women who were stationed overseas.

“My decision to have this baby wasn’t about Jesse,” Rebecca said quietly, adding another layer of duplicity to her original lie. “I miss him, but he’s been gone a long time.”

“You still pine for him. And you haven’t dated a man in years.” Allison looked away. “As excited as I am about holding my granddaughter, I wish you’d given yourself a chance to meet someone else before deciding to become a single mother.”

Rebecca pushed out a sigh. Part of her yearned to come clean about Seth Foster, the Air Force man she’d been pen pals with for months before an unexpected leave brought him to Portland. They’d arranged a meeting, and the heat between them had been instantaneous. She’d known before she finished her first cup of coffee that they’d end up in bed together.

That weekend, along with one broken condom, resulted in a positive pregnancy test almost four weeks after Seth returned to duty. Sleeping with a man she’d barely met—their pen-pal correspondence notwithstanding—was a complete aberration for Rebecca. Explaining her uncharacteristic behavior to her family, especially when she didn’t plan on seeing Seth again, had seemed impossible. That was when she came up with the sperm bank story.

And she hadn’t communicated with Seth since. She’d even changed cell phone providers and accepted a new phone number so he couldn’t contact her by telephone.

“I couldn’t be more prepared than I already am. I really am okay.” And most of the time, she was. Even if she felt horrible for her lie. Even if she continually questioned her decision to hide her pregnancy from Seth. “Seriously, Mom. I can do this.”

“You can do anything you set your mind to, but that won’t stop me from worrying. Or from wishing you had a partner to support you.” Allison glanced around the nursery. “What did you need my help with? Everything looks perfect.”

Rebecca’s eyes welled with tears. She rubbed her cheeks when they dripped down. Darn pregnancy hormones. “Honestly? I just wanted a few minutes alone with my mother.”

“I’m here.” Allison stepped over and kissed her on the cheek. “I know you agreed to this shower for your sister, but try to enjoy yourself. You deserve to celebrate your child’s life.”

“You’re right.” Rebecca smiled through her tears. “Let’s celebrate.”

Almost two hours later, Rebecca was enjoying herself. True, her living room was stuffed with an assorted mesh of family and friends, but the atmosphere held support, love and a fair amount of hilarity—much of which was due to Jocelyn’s creative baby shower games.

They’d started with a round of “Who can suck the fastest?” where each guest had a baby bottle half-filled with punch and whoever emptied the bottle first won the prize. Rebecca’s best friend, Felicia, won, which tickled Rebecca to no end.

Next was a relay race type of game. Guests were put into teams, and each team member had to quickly blow up a balloon, stuff the balloon under their shirt and then pop their balloon. Stuffing anything under Rebecca’s shirt proved impossible, so her team had lost.

Now, they were in the beginning stages of playing “Pin the Sperm on the Egg,” and Rebecca had decided to sit this one out. She’d already successfully matched sperm with egg about seven-and-a-half months ago. In her opinion, that made her the clear winner.

“Okay, ladies. I need you to line up,” Jocelyn instructed in a loud voice. “When it’s your turn, I’ll blindfold you, hand you one of these—” Jocelyn displayed one of the cutout sperms, which elicited another blast of laughter “—and spin you in circles. Whoever gets their sperm closest to the center of the egg wins!”

Everyone except Rebecca formed a line that snaked through the living room and into the dining room. She couldn’t see well where she was—and oh, she very much wanted to see her mother holding a giant sperm—so she moved to a chair that gave her an unobstructed view.

When Allison reached the front of the line, Rebecca’s lips twitched. Maybe it was juvenile to find this so humorous, but she couldn’t help it.

The sudden peal of the doorbell stopped Allison’s hand in midmotion. Rebecca struggled to stand since she was closest to the door. “Someone get a picture of my mother, please. It will make a great addition to the baby book.”

Jocelyn giggled. “You got it, sis.”

“Oh, stop. You’re not taking a picture of me like this,” Allison said, her tone a good three octaves higher than normal. “My granddaughter will not see me…”

Her mother’s indignant voice followed Rebecca to the door. Assuming her visitor was a late-arriving guest, she swung open the door without any hesitation.

The first thing she saw was a set of ridiculously broad shoulders. Next was the firm, hard line of a clean-shaven, angled jaw. Her eyes widened and a tremor of shocked awareness whipped through her, nearly causing her legs to buckle.

No. Oh, God. No!

A tiny, barely heard moan escaped from her lips. This was bad. Really, really, bad. This was trouble with a capital T.

Seth Foster. Here. And she had nowhere to hide.

Chapter Two