The Bad Son. Linda Warren
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HE REACHED the maternity ward, he saw Macy coming out of the nursery. Her hair was pulled back and held with a clip. Loose strands curled around her face. With no makeup, the sprinkling of freckles across her nose and cheekbones was visible. And she looked beautiful. His heart knocked like a faulty engine. She pulled off her scrubs and stared at a baby in an incubator.
“Is that her?” he asked quietly, walking to her side.
Macy glanced at him. “Yes, that’s Zoë, Delia’s daughter. To maintain a normal body temperature, Dr. Pender decided to keep her in the incubator for a few days.”
Beau stared at the tiny infant with wisps of strawberry-blond hair. She wore only a diaper, and round stickers attached cardiac and respiratory monitor cords to her small chest. His gut tightened at the sight.
“Is she okay?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that contraption she’s wearing?” A clear plastic bubble surrounded her head.
“She’s getting some extra oxygen through an oxyhood. Dr. Pender says she’s four weeks early and all she needs is time to grow and to become stronger.”
He watched the concern on her face. “Do you agree with that diagnosis?”
“I’m not sure. It makes sense, but I’ll feel better when we have the results of the tests.” She placed her hand on the glass, her eyes on Zoë. “Isn’t she adorable? And she has big blue eyes.”
Beau knew that tone. He’d heard it a million times as she cooed over some dog or cat who was battered and bruised. She was that type of person, and she was already so in love with her niece that any words of caution would be pointless.
“She’s so tiny,” he remarked.
“She’s five pounds and two ounces. Delia doesn’t want to nurse her. I just fed her and she feels like nothing in my arms. So precious.”
At that moment, Zoë’s body jerked and became stiff. Macy immediately tensed. The nurse on duty was standing over her and put her hand through the hole on the side of the incubator to Zoë’s chest. She gave the thumbs-up sign to Macy, signaling everything was okay.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Babies sometimes do that in their sleep. She’s fine.” Macy didn’t seem worried so he wasn’t, either.
“When can Delia take her home?”
“The doctor hasn’t said and we have to wait for the test results. But Delia can go home in the morning.”
“Is she fine with leaving the baby?”
“Yes, but she’s nervous and anxious. I’m trying to get her back on her meds.”
“Good luck with that. It never worked before.”
“She’s twenty-four now and has a baby to raise. She might be more responsible.”
He watched the glow on her face. “You just never give up.”
“No, not with someone I love. And with Zoë here, it will give us time to buy a baby bed and things Zoë will need.”
“Macy…”
She raised a hand to stop him. “I’m helping my sister any way I can and, yes, my heart will be broken when she takes the baby and leaves. But my heart has been broken before and I’ll survive.”
He wondered if she was talking about her exhusband. How much had she loved him? And what had happened in that marriage? He’d probably never know.
“When are you going home?” He had to tell her about the job offer and he didn’t want to do it here.
She cocked her head to one side. “I was hoping a tall, dark and handsome neighbor would give me a ride.”
That teasing light in her eyes warmed his insides. He didn’t understand how two people who cared so much for each other could be miles apart in their desires. He wanted a life with her, but she just wanted him around—like his mother. Oh yeah, that was a dose of reality.
He bowed from the waist. “He has arrived, ma’am. Are you ready?”
She smiled broadly and linked her arm through his, so naturally, so right. Yet there was a tension building in him that wasn’t natural or right.
“The baby’s fine and Delia’s sleeping. That will give me time to make space for a baby bed in the upstairs bedroom and do some shopping. Zoë’s going to need a lot of things. Delia doesn’t have anything prepared.” She talked as they headed toward the elevator.
“Don’t you think you should rest first? You’ve been up all day and night.”
They stepped onto the elevator and she touched his cheek. He wished she wouldn’t do that. It made it that much harder for him to remain detached.
“Thanks for worrying, but you know how I am. I’m on an adrenaline rush and there’s a lot of things I want to get done before Delia comes home.”
Yes, he knew how she was—a bundle of energy. Sometimes she worked twelve hours, then came home, cleaned the house, shopped, took care of her animals, snatched a few hours sleep and went back to work. She was always going at a breakneck speed, as if she had to stay busy. Maybe to keep from thinking. And he wondered what she was trying to avoid.
“This will give Delia and me a chance for some time together. Maybe we can talk as sisters again,” Macy said as they walked from the hospital to the parking area. “Delia has this wall of anger and resentment that’s hard to break through. I’m hoping Zoë will change all that. I’m looking forward to having them with me for a while.”
They climbed into his Expedition. “For a while?”
“Yes. I know this is short-term so you can stop looking at me like that.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled inwardly at how she was trying to look at the situation realistically. But they both knew she was a cream puff when it came to animals and babies.
“Maybe, just maybe, Zoë will change Delia.”
“Maybe,” he murmured, but he had his doubts.
She playfully hit his shoulder. “How’s my gang?”
“Fine. I let them out for a bit then they stayed at my place. Lucky and Lefty made my bed.”
“Aren’t they smart?” Her eyes glowed with love.
“Absolutely. But I’m sure I have teeth marks on my sheets and comforter.”
“They’re love marks.”
“Mmm.”
“You see, you need a pet. It would be so much company for you.”
“No, no, no. We’ve been through this a million times. I work all the time and sometimes late at night.”
“But…”
“No.”
“Pets are wonderful. They greet you at the door with affection and they don’t care if you’re late. They’re just glad to see you. They lick your hands, your face and steal your heart with their unconditional love.”
“No.” He remained strong.
“Beau, you love my pets and you’d be crazy about one of your own.”
Now was the time to tell her his plans. He was moving and wouldn’t have time for a pet. Driving into his driveway, he turned off the engine. “Could we talk for a minute?”
“No.” She opened the door and got out. “You’re not convincing me you don’t have time for a pet. It’s a waste of your breath and my time. Talk to you later.” Closing the door, she ran to her condo.
Damn! He hit the steering wheel with his hand. On a scale