His Baby Dream (Safe Harbor Medical) (13 page)

“I shouldn’t have...”

“Mommy! I can’t find Po.” Mia’s voice rang out behind her.

“Right here.” Her forehead furrowed, Harper turned away. “Thanks again for watching her.”

“My pleasure. Look, if you aren’t too tired...” he began.

“I’m afraid I am. You must be worn-out, too.” Despite the apologetic words, she seemed to be retreating. “Good night.”

“Night.” As the door closed, Peter wished he understood her reaction. She hadn’t seemed upset with him, but had been far from welcoming.

He was glad they’d have time alone on Sunday. Not entirely alone—they’d be surrounded by other visitors—but without Mia, they might have a chance to restore their relationship to an even footing.

He’d been foolish to yield to his impulse, Peter mused as he went down the walk. By kissing her, even on the temple, he’d violated their arrangement. Harper had donated eggs despite his deceptive behavior. On his behalf and for the baby, she’d taken hormones that messed up her system and had undergone a painful procedure. Caught up in the fertility process and enjoying her companionship, he’d reacted as if they were dating. But they weren’t. They’d agreed on that.

On Sunday, they’d straighten this out. Surely Harper shared his belief that these next few months were meant to be treasured. He’d reassure her that he meant to keep his distance, as agreed. Then they could relax and simply have fun.

His spirits rising, Peter could hardly wait until Sunday.

Chapter Thirteen

That evening, Harper and Mia watched a video from one of their last days with Sean. Mia had asked to see it.

Harper’s thoughts kept straying to Peter. Why had he kissed her hair? It might simply be a sign of affection, but she sensed there was more.

Could he be developing feelings for her, too?

She rehearsed ways to tell him how she felt without pushing him away. Perhaps something along the lines of “I have to stop spending time with you because I’m starting to care too much.” That would give him an opening, in case he felt the same.

Was he ready to let go of his wife? If so, was
she
ready to take their relationship to a new level?

The answer was a slightly nervous yes.

On the screen, she watched her late husband pretend-tussle with his toddler daughter in front of their old house. Mia squealed in delight as he lifted her high. “More, Daddy! More!”

He tossed her up and she spread her arms. “I can fly!”

From behind the camera came Harper’s voice. “Sean! Be careful!”

He caught his daughter easily. “Never fear. My little girl can fly. You heard her.”

On the couch, Mia cuddled closer to Harper. “Could he still throw me in the air? I’m bigger now.”

“Sure. He was a wrestling coach.” Watching Sean’s muscular body, Harper remembered her husband’s strength when he held her. And when they made love...best not to think about how much she missed that. “He could have thrown
me
in the air.”

“Really?”

“Well, almost.”

The video ended with Sean carrying a squealing, laughing Mia into the house. When the TV went dark, they sat for a moment.

Mia broke the silence. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“You’re welcome.” Although this afternoon’s excursion didn’t appear to trouble Mia, Harper decided to sound out her daughter. “Did you feel okay about visiting the cemetery today?”

“It was fun.”

“Not scary?” she asked as she retrieved the DVD from its tray.

Her daughter shook her head. “Peter’s wife is an angel now. He was crying, but I held his hand and he stopped.”

Crying, even after two years. Harper’s chest squeezed. True, sometimes in the night, she shed a few tears for Sean. But to weep in front of a child...clearly, Peter wasn’t ready to move on.

Thank goodness she hadn’t blundered into telling him her feelings. She’d have embarrassed them both.

“Good for you,” she told her daughter. “That was kind.”

“I wish we had Daddy back.”

“Me, too.”

As she sent Mia to get ready for bed, Harper shivered at how close she’d come to making a fool of herself. How awkward to admit she was falling in love with a man whose heart belonged to his late wife.

She’d better think carefully about what to tell him on Sunday.

* * *

P
ETER
HADN
’
T
EXPECTED
to find the arboretum parking lot nearly full on a cloudy day when monsoonal moisture turned the air damp. But he was glad Harper had suggested meeting here. It was no wonder the gardens adjacent to California State University, Fullerton, teemed with visitors, considering the wealth of plants and activities. Signs announced classes in everything from yoga to composting to bird-watching for kids.

He ought to organize a field trip for his students, Peter reflected, especially since this was the last year he’d be teaching in the area. While these gardens didn’t compare to the U.S. National Arboretum in Washington, D.C., he liked the intimacy here.

Near the entrance, sunlight reflected off Harper’s camera lens. In contrast to the rumpled visitors wandering by in loose T-shirts and flip-flops, she seemed coolly composed in tailored shorts and a halter top tied beneath her breasts to reveal a slender waist. Peter felt his body quickening, and hoped she didn’t notice. Instead, he hurried to pay the modest admission fee.

“It’s my treat,” Harper protested, appearing beside him. “I proposed this.”

“He-men like me are supposed to pay,” he teased.

That brought an ironic smile. “Does that mean you have to carry me over the puddles?”

“No danger of puddles,” he responded cheerfully. “I’m sure the arboretum never overwaters.”

“Good, because I’d give you a hernia.”

“Oh, in your case, I’d use a fireman’s carry,” he said.

A poke in the ribs greeted this remark. Without waiting for his response, she turned away and aimed her camera at a flower. Or so he thought, until he zeroed in on her subject: a yellow butterfly with black edging and other distinctive markings.

“How did you spot that?” he asked. “It’s camouflaged amid all the flowers.”

“Photographer’s eye.” Harper knelt to get a better angle.

Peter waited, content to view the passersby. A couple of children skipped along, chattering gaily. A young woman with Down syndrome spread her arms, luxuriating in the joy of the moment until her parents tugged her along. A group that he guessed were Japanese tourists paused to listen to their guide, and then followed her inside.

After the butterfly took its leave, he and Harper studied a map of the grounds. They decided to head for the primitive plants section in the woodlands garden. “Plants from the Jurassic period,” Harper said as they navigated the path. “How fascinating.”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll spot a few dinosaurs lurking about,” Peter said.

“Can dinosaurs lurk?” Harper peered skyward, as if a brontosaurus—or, more accurately, an apatosaurus—might appear. “If there are any, I’m sure they’d loom.”

“There were small dinosaurs, too,” he observed. “And—more appropriate to our subject—giant insects.”

Harper wrinkled her nose. “Too big to step on?”

“Depends on your shoe size,” Peter said. “Chinese scientists have found fossils of flealike creatures ten times the size of modern fleas. They had large claws and a proboscis like a hypodermic needle.”

She shuddered. “How do you know this stuff?”

“Internet,” he said. “I had all day yesterday to prepare.”

They reached the primitive plants area, thick with ferns. “For the book?”

“And to impress you,” he conceded.

Instead of the warm reaction he’d hoped for, Harper trained her gaze on a magnolia, which scientists believed had been one of the earliest flowering plants on earth. “As long as we’re discussing the book...”

“Hold on.” First, Peter wanted to address something that had been bothering him. “I’m sorry if I behaved inappropriately the other night.”

“Mia’s fine.” To his puzzled look, she explained, “Visiting the cemetery was good for her. She requested a video of Sean, and that’s the first time she’s done that.”

“Glad to hear it.” That wasn’t his point, though. “About the kiss. I realized I may have given you the wrong impression. We agreed to be friends, and that’s how I’d like to keep things.”

Harper tensed. “That may not be possible.”

“Why not?” He’d assumed that, once he cleared the air, she’d have no reason to distance herself.

She took a deep breath. “Peter, I’m getting too attached to the idea of those babies. This is too hard for me.”

That
was the problem? “It’s the first you’ve mentioned it.”

“I know and I apologize.” Her eyes meeting his at last, Harper rushed on. “I keep wanting to hold them and thinking about what they’ll be like as they grow. I can’t seem to let go emotionally. It’s best if I stop seeing you.”

A cold chill ran through Peter. He’d looked forward to sharing this pregnancy with her, and her daughter. It felt as if she were casting him into some outer darkness. “Mia asked if I’d bring the babies to visit later, and I said I would.”

“You shouldn’t have,” Harper responded sharply. “She’s starting to feel like they’re part of our family.”

Angela would never have pushed him away like this, Peter thought. She’d have taken his hands in hers, gently explained what mattered and guided him to her point of view. But he didn’t want to think about Angela at the moment. He wanted go on being friends with Harper.

Only he didn’t know how to make his point without sounding as if...well, as if he were offering more emotional involvement than he was capable of. And more, evidently, than Harper was willing to accept.

“Let’s work on the book by email from now on,” she said. “We’ve settled the important decisions about it, anyway.”

Peter stepped aside to make room for a man in a wheelchair and his companion. When they’d gone on, he said, “Let’s think this over and talk again. There has to be a better way to handle it.”

“Email will be fine,” she said stubbornly.

“Not just about the book.”

“Then what?”

There was more going on than she’d told him, Peter sensed, but he had no idea what. Before he could pull his thoughts together, his phone rang.

The name Tom Ayres leaped out at him. Why was Vanessa’s husband calling him?

“I’d better take this,” he said.

* * *

H
ARPER
WASN
’
T
SURE
WHAT
she’d expected from Peter. Since he’d made it plain he had no personal interest in her, why was he arguing about completing the book by email?

She forgot all that as she listened to his side of the conversation. “Is she sure?...Isn’t it too early?” He looked stricken.

By the time he clicked off, a hard knot inside warned of what was coming. Ten days since the egg transfer. Vanessa’s period must have started.

Peter planted his hands on his hips, chest heaving as if he’d run a race. When he straightened, his face was pale.

“No babies,” Harper guessed.

A nod. “We should go.” Without waiting for an answer, he started back along the path.

She hurried in his wake. Rationally, they’d both known the odds of achieving a pregnancy on the first try were no better than one in three. And Vanessa could try again with the frozen embryos. But this hurt, and if it bothered her, it must be even worse for him.

Harper might have tried to comfort Peter, but the timing was terrible. From the set of his shoulders and length of his stride, he seemed angry.

In the parking lot, he finally halted and let her catch up. “This is hard to deal with.” The moisture in his eyes showed
how
hard. “The baby became real to me. I didn’t realize how much.”

A dark sense of loss filled Harper, as well. “Me, too. Not the same way, but...”

“But, as you said, you were growing too attached.”

To him, also. She hadn’t realized how much she’d longed to see him with a baby in his arms. Their baby, or his baby—she couldn’t think straight, so she deflected. “It’s going to be difficult breaking the news to Mia.”

“We shouldn’t have built up her expectations.”

“I tried not to, but...” She’d tried not to do a lot of things, Harper thought regretfully. “Vanessa will try again, won’t she?”

“Yes.” He paused, his expression masked. “We’ll use the frozen embryos. If that doesn’t do it, I can’t ask you to go through this process again.”

Harper had to admit, she wasn’t sure she could bear it. “Peter, I’m sorry.”

“You were right about using email.” His frayed voice showed how hard he was struggling to speak calmly. “I hope Mia won’t feel that I’m abandoning her.”

“She knows you’re moving, anyway.” Harper longed to touch his cheek. They ought to share their sorrow and renew their hope together.

That was what couples did. But they weren’t a couple.

“The next time will succeed,” she said. “I suppose it’s naive to believe in my dream, but I do.”

“Send me the photos you took today and I’ll fit them into the text,” Peter said.

“Will do.”

“See you.” Jaw clenched, he walked to his van.

Losing these babies—embryos, Harper reminded herself—had hit him hard. But the loss only underscored how far apart they were, and always would be.

As she slid behind the driver’s wheel, she blinked back a sheen of tears. Those little boys...maybe they weren’t meant to be. Or maybe she’d have to wait until she found another man to love. A man whose heart wasn’t forever committed to someone else.

She’d intended to go on a journey of discovery with this donation. It wasn’t turning out to be the journey she’d envisioned.

* * *

“I
NEARLY
SAVED
A
WHITEFLY
for you.” Adrienne made a face. “But, Harper, friendship only goes so far.”

“Very funny.”

“Seriously, I do like to help.”

“You’ve done more than your share.” Harper had captured several interesting insects in her friend’s vegetable garden over the past month or so. It was fortunate she’d racked up so many images, because in the week since she and Peter parted ways, she’d found it almost impossible to pick up her camera.

She’d brought it to Adrienne’s house today, but only to document the wedding/baby shower. They’d decked out the family room with white wedding bells and blue-and-pink baby cutouts, and set out refreshments: a fruit tray, vegetables and dip, cakes and cookies and a table of party favors.

Through a rear window, Harper watched Reggie and Mia romping in the large yard. The little girl had insisted on wearing the same sunny yellow dress she’d put on for church. Although it was likely to be ruined by the time the guests arrived, Harper didn’t care. She was glad to see her daughter enjoying herself.

It had been a rough week, with both of them down in the dumps. Mia had cried when she learned there wouldn’t be any babies this time, and she kept asking for Peter. When told he had to prepare for the start of school, she’d responded that she had to do that, too, which to her meant reading picture books aloud to Po. The one Peter had given her was the favorite.

Today, as Harper helped set up for the party, she yearned to unload her feelings, which still felt raw. But although she and Adrienne were friends, they’d never shared the kind of intimacy she’d had with Vicki. That was partly because, while growing up, Harper had been in awe of the older, highly focused Adrienne, and that hadn’t changed in later years when she became an obstetrician.