Authors: Linda Warren,Marin Thomas,Jacqueline Diamond,Leigh Duncan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Series, #Harlequin American Romance
“Seriously?” After years of trying to be diplomatic, Anya had had enough. “I could hardly hear myself think. Everyone had expectations of me. Sometimes they fit, like when Grandma encouraged me to become a nurse. Other times, they were simply slots for me to fill.”
“We all have obligations,” Ruth snapped. “You ran out on yours.”
Around them, the conversation dimmed. Under the table, Jack’s hand cradled hers. Having him on her side allowed her to catch her breath and weigh her response.
In the past, she’d have retreated into angry silence, or snapped that it wasn’t her fault Ruth had chosen to marry at nineteen, drop out of college and bear one child after another. Instead, she replied calmly, “I met my obligations and then some.”
“You have to be kidding!” Ruth flared.
Their mother spoke up then with more force than she’d mustered in years. “Anya spent her high school and college years looking after me and the triplets. They should have been my responsibility, but I could barely take care of myself. She worked incredibly hard.”
Ruth cleared her throat. “I don’t remember it that way.”
“You were married and out of the house by then, so you didn’t see it.”
“I was right here,” Anya’s father joined in. “It didn’t seem to me she had it so tough.”
Molly turned to her husband. “Ray, you were working from dawn to dusk at the store. So you may not have noticed that she took over the grocery shopping, the cleaning, even scheduling my doctor visits, all while attending college and commuting an hour each way.”
“The younger girls pitched in,” he said stubbornly.
“Yes, the triplets helped with meals, but they didn’t take over many of the other chores until after Anya left. We also hired a cleaning service and our two wonderful daughters-in-law volunteered to drive me to appointments. Anya used to do all of that herself.”
Anya blinked back tears. If she hadn’t been afraid of shaking the table and everyone’s dinners, she’d have run around to embrace her mom. “I knew that you needed me, Mom. But once the girls were old enough to handle things, I was ready to leave.”
Her father cleared his throat. “I guess I was a little hard on you.”
Anya wasn’t going to let him off so easily. “A little? All you noticed were my screwups.”
“I wasn’t that bad, was I?”
“You were always picking on her,” Benjie said. “Honestly, Dad, I even told you a few times to lay off.”
He had? No one had mentioned that to Anya.
“I’d forgotten that,” their father admitted.
“It was like Anya couldn’t do anything right,” Bart chimed in. “You were always comparing her to how Ruth used to do things.”
That was true, but she hadn’t been aware that her brothers had noticed it, too.
“Well, Ruth did a great job,” said their father, his forehead wrinkling.
“And moved out the minute I got the chance,” Ruth admitted, adding, “Luckily, I fell in love with the right man. Didn’t I, Bryce?”
“You did. And other than that, I’m staying out of this conversation,” said her husband.
Raymond Meeks’s shoulders sagged. “Girls, I’m sorry. Maybe I’ve been too hard. And, Anya, I was on your case at Christmas because your mom was having trouble adjusting to her new medication, and on some level I blamed you.”
“Well, I didn’t,” Molly said. “Anya, you deserve to lead your own life. I’m proud of you.”
“So am I.” Her father regarded Anya. “I’ve been worried about your mom, and a little guilty for being gone a lot. Maybe that’s why I magnified every mistake you made. Thank you for everything you’ve done.”
“That goes double for me,” her mother said.
A murmur of appreciation ran around the table. A rush of joy filled Anya. In spite of their missteps and misunderstandings, her family loved her.
“We’ve missed you.” Sarah touched her shoulder. “You gave us the best advice about classes and professors.”
“And our boyfriends,” noted Sandi.
“Those were
my
boyfriends you kept stealing,” teased Andi.
“That’s because I’m cuter,” said her identical sister.
Everyone chuckled, including Ruth. Anya was glad she hadn’t lashed out or withdrawn, as she would have before Jack. If she had, this discussion might not have happened.
“Besides, if she hadn’t moved to California, she’d never have met me,” Jack commented. “And we wouldn’t be having our daughter.”
That changed the subject quite effectively, as Jack no doubt intended. From along the table, questions flew: “You know what sex it is already?” “What will you name her?”
The answer came instinctively to Anya. “Rachel.” She heard the murmur of approval and saw the sparkle of pleasure on her grandmother’s face. Afraid she might have presumed too much, she amended that to, “Rachel Lenore,” and glanced at Jack for confirmation.
“Isn’t that a beautiful name?” he said. “It’s for both our grandmothers.”
“The best present you could have given me.” Grandma smiled. “And your sister’s naming her new boy after your grandfather, Harold.”
Ruth took a breath. “I suppose it’s all worked out for the best.”
“Too bad you had to give up your life in high school for us,” Sarah noted, while the other triplets nodded.
Anya waved away the apology. “I only have one regret.”
Everyone waited.
“If I’d been able to join the botany club, I might not have killed the African violet Jack gave me.”
Amid a ripple of laughter, a child scampered in to ask about dessert.
“I almost forgot about the birthday cake!” Benjie’s wife leaped to her feet. “I’ll light the candles.”
“I’ll dish out the ice cream,” volunteered Bart’s wife. “Who wants vanilla and who wants chocolate?”
Others hurried to clear the table, insisting that the older generation and the pregnant women relax. “That feels odd,” Ruth admitted, while Sarah carted off her plate.
“I’m glad you hired the sitters,” Anya told her.
“Me, too.” Ruth’s mouth twisted in irony. “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking straight. There’s no way you could have supervised all those little ones and spent time with the rest of us.”
“We’re used to believing Anya is a superwoman,” her mother said.
“Or just my annoying younger sister.” Ruth cringed. “Which I hadn’t realized I was doing, until now.”
The rest of the family returned, along with all but the youngest children. Someone dimmed the lights, allowing the candles—two large ones spelling out 8-0—to shimmer atop the sheet cake.
As Anya surveyed the beloved group and joined them in singing the birthday song, joy swelled inside her. How lucky she was to be part of this family, and most of all to share this moment with Jack. Yes, she knew she could stand on her own now, but she also realized they were stronger together.
And a lot happier.
* * *
T
HEY
SLEPT
THAT
night on Grandma’s foldout couch, with a single sleeping bag spread out beneath them and the other serving as a cover. Exhausted from the long day, plus a touch of jet lag and the effect of altitude, Anya expected to fall asleep instantly.
Instead, her brain replayed her experiences at dinner. Her younger sisters’ admiration...Molly’s unexpected rise to her defense, showing Anya’s father and Ruth how limited their perspective had been...Jack’s steady presence, bolstering her confidence. The world had shifted. She could be herself now, wherever she was.
In the dimness of Grandma’s living room, she inhaled the scent of lemon oil from the antique armoire. Against the wall, moonlight showed dark rectangles that she remembered were old family photographs of her great grandparents and great-aunts and uncles, of the town in the horse-and-buggy days, of people and places long gone yet still living in their descendants.
Her hand drifted to her abdomen. Rachel Lenore would come here for holidays, discovering her cousins and her roots. What a marvelous sense of connection she would have, just like Anya had.
Beside her, Jack stirred. “Do you still want to live with me?” he murmured.
It seemed an odd question. “Of course.”
He heaved a sigh, then rolled away from her.
Had she said something wrong? Puzzled, Anya tried to figure it out. But before she could, sleep stole over her.
Chapter Eighteen
On Sunday, Anya bubbled with high spirits. Although Jack had the nagging suspicion he’d outsmarted himself, he enjoyed seeing her happy and reconciled with her family.
In the morning, children tumbled underfoot until the sitters came, and the noise level rose further as more relatives arrived, including newcomers who hadn’t been able to attend last night. Jack took charge of the row of waffle-making equipment, producing piles of deliciously browned waffles while the triplets stirred batches of mix. People ate in shifts, scattered around the house. It was a big jovial party, and by midday, when he and Anya left for the airport, he could identify almost all the adults and quite a few of the tots.
What a great experience—and what a pleasure to relax in the quiet car as they drove to Denver. Anya seemed to share his enjoyment, both with her family and without them. All his life, Jack had longed to be part of a group like this, and the Meekses had exceeded his expectations. Yet he also understood, at the gut level, why Anya craved distance, as well.
He’d insisted on her confronting them, and she’d done so. Now he had to keep his word, even though the prospect of raising their daughter when he and Anya weren’t married troubled him. It was too easy for people to throw away a relationship under the pressure of an illness or injury, a financial setback, problems with a child or a temporary divergence in their interests. Despite the high percentage of marriages that broke up, at least the steps leading to a divorce forced the couple to face the seriousness of what they were doing and encouraged them to seek counseling.
Jack yearned for the commitment. Old-fashioned though it might be, he longed to have Anya as his wife and to be introduced as her husband. Their rings would tell the world that they belonged to each other.
But although Anya had resolved some of her issues, she apparently hadn’t changed her mind.
The next few days in California, they barely had a chance to talk, let alone decide where or when to move in together. At the hospital, Anya cast Jack the occasional quizzical glance, as if trying to gauge his thoughts. He couldn’t reassure her while his mood remained restive.
The following Saturday, her housemates invited him and Rod for dinner. “It’s our turn to cook for you,” Karen told Jack when she stopped by his table in the cafeteria.
“Need any help?” He missed being the master chef, although not every day.
“We’ll be fine. Maybe Rod can pitch in,” she said.
“Uh-oh.” His uncle’s culinary catastrophes were notorious. “I hope you’ll put him in charge of arranging pickles and olives on a relish tray.”
“That bad, huh?” She grinned.
“Worse.”
“Guess I’ll pass on suggesting he help cook.”
On Saturday, Jack assisted with an overflow in Labor and Delivery, performing two emergency Caesarian sections. Afterward, he had to wait for Rod to pick him up, since his uncle’s car was once again on the fritz. They arrived at Karen’s house a few minutes past six.
The days were already lengthening, and he spotted flocks of birds circling. He wondered whether they were in the midst of a northward migration or if they’d be nesting here.
“Is it me, or has the smell improved?” his uncle asked as they strolled along the driveway.
Jack inhaled. “I can say with confidence that your smell hasn’t improved.”
“It should have. I borrowed
your
deodorant.”
“Now I know what to buy you for Christmas.”
When they reached the porch, Melissa swung open the door, abandoning her usual reserve. “I’m pregnant!”
“Congratulations.” Jack shook her hand. “This is terrific news.” He was glad he’d been able to contribute to this joyful result.
“
That’s
how you congratulate her?” Rod gave the woman a hug. “That’s the proper response.”
“As one of her physicians, I prefer to behave like a professional.”
“Since when did you start sending out your shirts to be stuffed?” his uncle retorted.
Jack ignored the gibe.
“I can’t wait to find out how many babies I’m carrying.” Melissa ushered them inside. “Three more weeks and we can do an ultrasound, right?”
“Correct,” Jack said. A sonogram was usually performed five weeks after an embryo transfer, both to determine how many had implanted and to ensure the pregnancy was progressing normally. Of course, she was Zack Sargent’s patient, so Sargent would be supervising her care from now on, rather than Jack.
Inside, Karen was setting out roast chicken, potatoes, steamed vegetables and a small brownish loaf that she explained was a vegetarian turkey substitute called tofurkey. Anya appeared with a bowl of salad.
Hurrying to her side, Jack said in a low voice, “Sorry I couldn’t come early. I was hoping to talk privately.”
She blinked. “Oh. About that....” She frowned at Lucky, who hovered nearby. Jack could almost have sworn the man’s ears were quivering. “Later, okay?”
Reluctantly, Jack nodded.
As they took seats at the table, he noticed that Zora didn’t seem to share the general high spirits. Anya had mentioned during the trip that her friend was pregnant by her ex-husband, who’d just remarried. What a jerk.
From a sideboard, Karen fetched wineglasses. “Let’s toast our houseful of pregnancies.”
Lucky appeared from the kitchen with a bottle of grape juice. “Good thing I have my quarters downstairs,” he said as he poured. “Gives me a break from the supercharged estrogen level.”
“I doubt you’re in any danger from our hormones,” Melissa said. “Is he, Jack?”
“Cole Rattigan is the expert about male hormone levels,” he said. “But I doubt it.”
They raised their glasses of juice. “May all the pregnancies in this household be safe and healthy,” Karen said. “May the babies grow up secure and loved.”
“Hear, hear!” Rod glugged down his juice in a single show-off gulp. He promptly choked, spluttering and coughing while Karen pounded him on the back.
“Serves you right,” Lucky said.
“That’s mean.” Zora frowned at him.
“Was it?” The male nurse shrugged. “Sorry, Rod.”
Jack’s uncle started to answer, wheezed painfully and sipped water. He recovered well enough, though, to take second helpings of the food.
The discussion moved from Melissa’s big news to the latest recommendations for maternal nutrition, and then to the name Anya and Jack had chosen for their daughter. Everyone agreed that honoring both grandmothers was inspired.
“Speaking of daughters.” Rod cleared his throat. “Tiffany emailed me today—they’ll be spending part of the summer here.”
“Are they staying with their grandmother?” Karen asked.
He grimaced. “No such luck. Their mother will be riding herd on them at the beach cottage. Vince plans to visit when his schedule allows.”
“Which means they’ll be under lock and key.” Jack ached for his uncle. Despite Rod’s breezy manner, the situation must be torture. “Karen, any chance the girls will volunteer at the hospital as you suggested?”
“That would be fun.” Anya sparkled with enthusiasm. “They’re such cuties.”
“I don’t know.” Their hostess set down her fork. “I’ve heard—though this is very preliminary—that Mr. and Mrs. Adams might be interested in sponsoring male fertility research. Naturally, the hospital would love that.”
“Which means the Adamses will be spending a lot of time here,” Jack observed.
“And I’d be persona non grata if I screw it up.” His uncle scowled.
“Dr. Rattigan must be thrilled.” Lucky dug into his tofurkey, which nobody else was eating. “It could be a good thing for me, too. If the program expands, there might be a new administrative position.”
“Perfect timing for you,” Melissa said. “You could stay at Safe Harbor
and
use your new masters degree.”
“This is all speculation,” Karen said sternly. “I want the girls to volunteer at the hospital, too, but Rod’s right. We can’t risk antagonizing a major donor.”
Being rich shouldn’t give Vince the freedom to strut around the hospital like a peacock, taunting the man he’d ripped off. However, Jack understood the realities. “We’ll figure something out.”
“The girls enjoyed helping out at the animal shelter,” Anya reminded them.
Rod sat up straighter. “That’s a good idea. I’ll run it by Helen.”
One way or another, Jack reflected, having the girls nearby would open up possibilities. Also, a major expansion of the men’s fertility program might lead to the hospital acquiring the empty dental building, bringing additional space for a range of uses.
Including offices for newer doctors like me.
Obnoxious as they might find Vince Adams, his potential involvement with Safe Harbor Medical wasn’t entirely a bad thing.
Dinner ended with a pecan pie from the Cake Castle bakery. Jack was considering how he might steer Anya away from the others when she said, “Excuse me. Jack and I have a few things to discuss. See you guys later.”
Startled, he accompanied her upstairs. “Thanks. I was wondering how to handle that diplomatically.”
“Oh, was I diplomatic?”
Jack chuckled. Then, at the risk of tripping on the steps—or of being observed from below—he circled her waist with his arm. “I missed you the past couple of days.”
“Me, too.” Mischievously, Anya kissed his cheek, then pulled him toward her bedroom. “I have something to show you.”
He tried to keep his mind off the fact that they hadn’t made love since before the trip to Denver. “I’m sure I’ll like it, whatever it is.”
“You will.” She underscored her reply by closing the door behind them.
Alone, finally, Jack caught her and planted a kiss firmly on her mouth. Mmm. Pecan pie and Anya. His favorites.
She melted into him. Jack forgot everything but her, and the bed, and her softness. Anya apparently did, too, until they bumped the table as they crossed the room. “Oh!” She wriggled free. “Seriously, we need to talk.”
“How about we talk later?” He was breathing hard.
She sighed. “With all those people downstairs straining to hear?”
“Ignore them.”
“Including Rod? He already doesn’t like me,” Anya said.
“He’s coming around.”
“Does he know we’re planning to live together?” she asked.
Jack had to admit that he hadn’t told his uncle yet. “I figured I’d wait until we have more definite arrangements.”
“We could rent a new apartment.” She grinned. “Or keep yours and kick your uncle out.”
“I can’t do that!” However, neither could he expect Anya to share a place with Rod. And once the baby arrived, they’d need both bedrooms. “Unless he has a better place to move. Like here.”
“That would solve two problems,” Anya said.
“What’s the other one?”
“Karen needs the rent.”
Enough about his uncle. They had more important topics to discuss. “What did you want to show me?”
Anya smiled. “This.” From a small table, she lifted an African violet. “I named her Paula the Second.”
That was it? “A plant?”
She turned the purple-flowered plant lovingly in her hands. “It’s a leap of faith, to prove to myself that I can nurture something without killing it.”
“You can do a lot more than that.” Jack gave up trying to avoid pressuring her. “Damn it, Anya, I love you. You’re going to be a wonderful mother. I want us to spend our lives together.”
To his annoyance, she merely handed him the pot. “Take a closer look.”
He spared a quick glance at the deep green fuzzy leaves. “It’s very pretty. One of these days we’ll be able to buy our own home with a greenhouse window. You can grow all the African violets your heart desires.”
“They’re non-toxic,” she said cheerfully. “Safe to have around children.”
“Wonderful.” Why had he fallen for the one woman in the world who could drive him to the edge of madness? “We can plant an entire vegetable garden. Anya...”
“Look harder.”
Gritting his teeth, Jack stared at the violet again. From the soil jutted a shiny piece of paper, which he’d assumed held care directions.
Plucking it free and gently blowing a few crumbs of soil into the pot, he unrolled it and studied the glossy pictures of jewelry. “Rings.” His throat clamped shut.
“We can pick them out together,” Anya said. “That is, assuming your proposal still stands.”
“Yes.” He swallowed, and took a deep breath. “You enjoy keeping me on edge, don’t you?”
“Not deliberately.” She reached for him. “I’ve been in awe of you since the day we met.”
Setting the plant on the table, Jack drew her into his arms. “You could have fooled me.”
The face that lifted to his was open and vulnerable. “If I’d let on, I’d have been just another of those nurses who follow you around like puppy dogs.”
Jack didn’t know whether to laugh or growl. Instead, he tightened his hold on her. “You planned the whole thing?”
“Just the opposite,” Anya admitted. “I kept you at bay for my own safety.”
“And now?”
“I love you too much,” she said raggedly.
“Really?” He could hardly believe it.
“You overwhelmed my good judgment.” She buried her face in his chest. “Promise not to take advantage.”
Grinning, Jack moved back a step, pulling her with him. “I plan to take advantage every chance I get.”
“Don’t push your luck.”
“Let’s see how it goes,” he said, and lowered her onto the bed.
* * *
A
S
THEY
LAY
contentedly side by side, Anya’s head was still spinning. Marrying Jack and trusting him meant no more guarding her emotions. They’d be sharing their home, their hearts and their baby. Or babies. Always and forever.
It wasn’t as if she had a choice. Last Sunday as he’d fixed waffles for her family, he’d been the calm center of a swirl of people. Watching him, she’d tumbled off a cliff—or finally recognized that she’d been in free fall for a long time.
He was Anya’s other half. A very different, masculine other half—they wouldn’t always see eye to eye. There’d be disagreements and difficult choices. Sometimes they might hurt each other without meaning to. But he wasn’t sitting in judgment on her, and she was strong enough to set him straight if he ever tried.