Sleeping Alone (18 page)

Whether or not John would admit it yet, something was wrong with Eddie, and Dee was afraid she knew what it was. Her aunt Louise had started the same way. Forgetfulness, followed by disorientation, followed by mood swings, followed by—she couldn’t bring herself to think about the way it had ended.

If she was going to give her son the gift of a family, she would have to gather up her courage and do it soon, before it was too late.

There had been times over the past few years when Eddie’s faith in God had deserted him. You couldn’t watch your wife die a long miserable death without wondering exactly what the Almighty had in mind when He decided who would make an easy exit from this life and who wouldn’t. He’d been raised a Catholic and had practiced his faith for almost seventy years without questioning why, but losing Rosie had shaken his belief to the core.

Eddie found his faith again on Valentine’s Day when Alex Curry moved in with his son.

John had been smiling nonstop for two weeks now. And laughing. Eddie couldn’t remember the last time he’d heard his son laugh as if he meant it. When he told Eddie that Alex was moving in with them while her roof was being repaired, Eddie had been tempted to go to church and light a candle in thanks.

The two of them had shoveled out the house, then applied a little elbow grease where necessary. Dusting. Polishing. Cleaning. Waxing. He wondered if the
Guinness Book of World Records
gave a prize for having a record number of cobwebs. They managed to get the place in shape an hour before John went to collect Alex and her stuff, and then only because Eddie had come up with the idea to stuff some of the junk in the toolshed.

“Whatever works,” John had said, and Eddie agreed.

He and Bailey were waiting on the top step when John pulled his truck into the driveway.

“Welcome to our home,” he’d said, kissing Alex on the cheek.

“I promise it’s only temporary,” she’d said, bending down to scratch Bailey behind the ear. “I’ll be out of your hair the second the roofers are finished.”

“Don’t rush on my account,” Eddie said, meaning it. “Stay here as long as you want.”

She and John exchanged a look that puzzled Eddie, but he let it go. He hadn’t been alone so long that he’d forgotten the different ways men and women communicated with each other.

The house felt different with her in it. She’d only been there five minutes, and already it felt more like a home than it had since Rosie died.

“I made coffee,” Eddie said as he led the way into the kitchen. “We’ve got bagels and cream cheese if you want them.”

“I’m not much of a coffee drinker,” Alex said with a gentle smile, “but I’d love a glass of milk.”

“You sit down,” Eddie said, gesturing toward the kitchen table. John was busy unloading the truck. “I’ll get it for you.”

“You don’t have to spoil me like this,” Alex said, claiming a chair.. “I might get used to it.”

“So get used to it,” Eddie said opening the refrigerator. “Between the accident and that roof of yours, you’ve been through the mill the last few weeks.”

“The car will finally be ready tomorrow,” she said. “Things will get back to normal.”

He handed Alex a glass of milk, then poured himself some hot java. “Don’t push yourself,” he said.

“I’ll bet that’s not what you told John when he was a boy,” she said, laughing.

“Never had to tell him much of anything,” Eddie said. “That one marches to his own drummer. It was Brian we had to lean on, to keep him on the straight and narrow.”

Alex opened her mouth as if to say something, then quickly looked back down at the plate of bagels.

“Hope you’re not a poker player, Alex,” he said, dumping some sugar into his cup. “That face of yours is an open book.”

“So I’ve been told,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“Brian’s been a disappointment,” he said honestly. “Family doesn’t mean much to him. Not the way it does to Johnny.”

“You telling stories about me?” John walked into the kitchen with Bailey at his side. “Let Alex make up her own mind, why don’t you.” The twinkle in his eyes made Eddie grin.

“Coffee?” Eddie asked.

“Sit down and eat, Pop,” John said. “I’ll get my own coffee.”

“Hell, no,” Eddie said. “You did the heavy lifting. I’ll do the pouring.”

Alex looked up at him. The same twinkle glittered in her eyes. “John’s right,” she said. “Why don’t you sit down, Eddie, so we can tell you something.”

“What’s going on?” he asked, looking from Alex to John. “You two cooking up some scheme?”

“We have some news for you, Pop,” said John, “and we think you’d better be sitting down when you hear it.”

His heart lurched, and Alex reached out and touched his hand.

“For heaven’s sake, John,” she said, “the least you can do is tell your father it’s
good
news.”

“It’s good news,” John said.

“Will somebody just spit it out?” Eddie bellowed in exasperation. “I’m almost seventy years old. I don’t have all day.”

John and Alex exchanged another one of those looks.

Alex nodded. “You tell him,” she said.

“Somebody’d better tell me fast or—”

“Pop,” said John, “Alex and I are going to have a baby.”

The words tumbled around inside Eddie’s head like dice. “What?” he asked, trying to make sense of the sounds he’d heard. “What? What?”

“Pop.” John knelt down in front of him. “Alex is pregnant. You’re going to be a grandfather again.”

“What about Libby? What the hell’s your wife going to say about that?” Anger bubbled through his veins. “I have four grandchildren already. Four’s enough. I don’t want any more grandchildren.” The blond-haired woman tried to make him smile, but he wasn’t buying it. “You trying to shame your parents, miss? Go find yourself some man that doesn’t already have a family.”

Her golden eyes flooded with tears. “Eddie, this is Alex. You know I would never hurt anybody.”

“I don’t know anything about you,” he said as wild birds flapped crazily inside his chest. His heart... was that his heart... it couldn’t be his heart... nobody’s heart beat that fast... he’d be dead if his heart was really beating that fast....

* * *

“Pop!” John was crouched down in front of him. “Pop!”

“What the hell are you yelling about?” Eddie asked, puzzled by the look of fear in his son’s eyes. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He had the feeling he’d missed something, but he didn’t have any idea what it might be. Lately his mind tended to wander, and he couldn’t always figure out a way to cover for himself. This was one of those times.

“Across the table from him Alex’s big golden eyes swam with tears. She and John looked at each other.

“What’s with those looks?” Eddie demanded. “Every time I turn around, the two of you are giving each other one of those looks.”

“Sorry, Pop,” John said. He still looked white as a sheet. “We—uh, Alex and I, have something to tell you.”

“Yes,” Alex said. Her voice sounded shaky, and he felt bad if he’d somehow hurt her feelings, but he didn’t know what he might have done. “It’s something wonderful, Eddie.”

“So tell me already,” he said. “I could use some good news.”

“Pop,” said John. “Alex and I are going to have a baby.”

“A baby?” He looked at Alex, and she nodded. The last time he’d seen a woman look so radiantly beautiful, it was when Rosie told him she was pregnant the first time. “The two of you?”

“Yes.” Alex reached across the table and squeezed his hand. “Your grandchild.”

He thought of Jake and Michael, and a lump the size of a lemon formed in his throat. He missed those boys—Jesus, how he missed them.

“I’m—” He stopped and cleared his throat. “I’m so sappy for—” He couldn’t manage to get the words out past that damn lump in his throat.

“I know.” John’s voice cracked on the last word. “I know.”

* * *

“I believe it’s important to get to know each other before the examination,” Dr. Schulman said as Alex and John took their seats a few days later. “We’ll sit here in my office and talk and then we’ll do the exam.”

“Sounds good to me,” John said.

Alex shot him a look. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap to keep them from shaking. So far it wasn’t working. Doctors made her nervous; gynecologists made her crazy. Too many years and too much bad news had conditioned her like one of Pavlov’s dogs. Put her within five miles of a table and stirrups, and she started to hyperventilate.

You’re pregnant,
she told herself.
Really and truly pregnant.
This was a normal, run-of-the-mill prenatal appointment and she had a good man by her side. She’d finally grabbed the brass ring. Now if she could just get herself to believe it.

She held John’s hand while the doctor explained the schedule of visits and outlined the costs.

“Susan is our office manager,” the doctor said, scribbling something on a pale green legal pad. “Be sure to speak with her before you leave. She’ll take down all of your health insurance information.”

“I don’t have health insurance,” Alex blurted out.

The silence in the room was deafening. “No health insurance?” Dr. Schulman sounded as if she couldn’t believe her ears.

“No health insurance,” Alex repeated. She couldn’t quite control the challenging note in her voice. “I’m afraid it’s out of my reach.”
Did you hear what you said, Alex? If health care is out of your reach, how are you ever going to raise a baby
?

The doctor scribbled furiously. “Susan will help you work out a payment plan. Hospital charges must be paid in full before delivery.”

“No problem,” John said, withdrawing a checkbook from his pocket. “Tell me what the charges are, and I’ll take care of them now.”

Alex opened her mouth to protest, but there was something about the look in his eyes that brought her up short.
He needs to do this,
she thought. He needed to take care of her and the baby, to protect them in whatever way he could. And, God help her, she and the baby needed him. She’d never given a thought to health insurance. Now it was quickly becoming the focus of her life.

The doctor outlined what they could expect from each of the prenatal visits. She gave them packets of information about Lamaze classes, breast-feeding, and genetic counseling, then reviewed the forms Alex had filled out in the waiting room.

“You’re twenty-eight,” Dr. Schulman said. “No family history of cancer, heart disease, or diabetes. This s your first pregnancy. Blood type O-negative. You missed something here, Alex.” She looked up and smiled. “The date of your last period.”

“I’m not sure when it was,” Alex hedged. “It’s been a while.”

“Well, this is February,” the doctor said. “December, perhaps?”

“No, it was longer ago than that.”

The doctor eyed her with curiosity. “November?”

“I think it was more like March.”

Dr. Schulman arched a brow. “Of last year?”

Alex nodded. “Of last year.”

“Did you have any spotting in the interim?”

“Some,” Alex admitted. “But nothing notable.” Nothing that a normal woman would have considered to be a period.

“Amenorrhea.” Dr. Schulman nodded. “Difficult to achieve a pregnancy, but not impossible.” She flipped to a new page in her notebook. “When do you estimate the date of conception?”

Her throat constricted as she remembered that terrible October night when her marriage ended.

The night when Griffin raped her.

No,
she thought. She refused to believe fate would be that cruel to her or to John.

“Thanksgiving,” she said, looking over at John. “It happened on Thanksgiving.”

* * *

John couldn’t sleep. The visit to the doctor’s office had brought back a flood of memories, memories he thought he’d managed to bury in the part of his heart that had died with his wife and children.

But he’d been wrong.

The memories were there waiting for him every time he closed his eyes. He saw Libby’s face when she told him they were expecting a baby. He saw Michael’s wrinkled red face when he took his first breath and faced the world. He saw Jake when he pulled himself up and took his first steps straight into his daddy’s arms.

He waited for the pain to rip through him the way it always did, but it was different this time. The sadness was there, and the regret, but the pain was just a dull ache. It made him feel hopeful and disloyal and disoriented, all at once, the way he used to feel after a bottle of vodka on an empty stomach.

Sorrow had been a part of him for so long that he’d almost forgotten how to be happy, but day by day it was coining back to him. Living with Alex was the closest he’d been to heaven in a very long time. Sleeping with her in his arms. Seeing her face each morning over the breakfast table. Hearing her chat with Eddie about whether they needed more eggs from the grocery store. It all made him feel alive again, as if the shattered pieces of his heart were somehow moving together.

Next to him she stirred, and he watched, deeply moved, as her hands covered her belly in that age-old gesture. His heart seemed to swell inside his chest cavity with a powerful combination of love and pride and abject terror. The world was a dangerous, unpredictable place. He hadn’t been able to protect Libby and the boys. What guarantee did he have that he would be able to protect Alex and their baby from whatever life had in store for them?

Alex stretched slightly, then opened her eyes. “You’re still awake.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s the middle of the night,” he said, smoothing her hair from her face. “Go back to sleep.”