First Comes Baby. Janice Johnson Kay
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“Why not? Don’t fathers do that?” He shot a glance at George.
“I did,” her dad agreed.
“I’ll be here, Laurel,” Caleb repeated.
Absurdly, her eyes were filling with tears. Pressing her lips together, she nodded, then dabbed at her eyes with her napkin.
As touched as she was, Laurel was a bit annoyed when her father seemed to relax after this exchange, apparently reassured that Caleb intended to do his manly duty. Hadn’t he raised her and Megan to be strong, independent women who could cope with whatever life threw at them? Apparently, single parenting wasn’t one of those things.
She tried to excuse him. He was from another generation that still had faith in traditional two-parent homes. But the world had changed. Look how many gay and lesbian couples had children, how well open adoption was working, how single mothers banded together to share their loads.
But Laurel couldn’t shake the feeling that if Meg had made the same announcement, he wouldn’t have been so alarmed. Her father doubted her ability to handle the stress of single parenthood, not the ability of women in general or even of his daughters in particular. Despite his support, in the end he was just like everyone else. He didn’t understand why she couldn’t go back to being herself, the Laurel who hadn’t been taught how powerless she really was, who hadn’t faced death, who hadn’t spent weeks in the hospital recovering from broken bones and swelling that compressed her brain. And because she couldn’t, he assumed she was weak, that she would falter as a mom.
Knowing he thought like that stung.
But her father being her father, he disarmed her hurt and resentment before dinner was over. He set down his fork, looked at her and said, “Laurel, I want you to know that I didn’t mean to imply you can’t do this on your own.” His smile held regret and remembered grief. “I just wish you didn’t have to.”
“Oh, Daddy!” Blinking back more tears—damn, she wished she didn’t cry so easily these days—Laurel stood and hugged him. With her eyes closed, the familiar scent of him in her nostrils, and his strong arms closed around her, she felt so safe.
Straightening away from him was a wrench, just as moving out of his house the second time had been. She couldn’t be Daddy’s little girl forever, and she would forever know she wasn’t really safe.
“Thank you,” she whispered, and went back to her place at the table.
When he and Megan left an hour later, Caleb was at her side to wave goodbye.
“I really appreciate you coming,” she told him, assuming he was leaving, too.
“Hmm? Oh, no problem.”
“Are you taking off, too?”
“I thought I’d hang around for a while.”
“Okay,” she said, although he hadn’t asked for permission.
Inside, he asked, “How’s the stomach?”
She’d remembered what the doctor said and barely nibbled. “Actually, I feel fine,” she said with surprise.
“Good. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you some herbal tea?”
That sounded nice. Grateful everyone had helped clean up, Laurel headed toward the couch, ready to relax.
That is, until behind her Caleb continued, his tone flat. Maybe even hard. “And then, you and I need to have a talk.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LAUREL’S VOICE ROSE. “What do you mean, I’m trying to shut you out?”
“That seems clear enough to me.” Caleb paced her miniature living room, three steps one way, three the other. He considered himself an easygoing guy, but tonight she’d enraged him almost as much as she had when she asked another man to father her baby. “Didn’t you just spend the last two hours trying to convince your dad how competent you are to single-handedly raise our child?”
“I was trying to make him understand my decision!” She sat on the couch, glaring up at him, her head turning as he passed in front of her.
“I thought it had become our decision.”
“I made the decision to have a baby long before…”
“I butted into it?” he interrupted.
“I didn’t say that!”
“But you meant it!”
Her lower lip stuck out in a way that was familiar to him from the thousand maddening arguments during their PLU years. “Maybe I did.”
Ready to yank on his hair in frustration, Caleb was struck by a sudden thought: he hadn’t seen Laurel look so stubborn, even combative, so alive, since they’d hugged goodbye at Sea-Tac Airport the summer she saw him off to Ecuador.
His Laurel, who had felt powerless since even the choice of life and death had been taken out of her hands in that parking garage, was grabbing for control, because something mattered a whole hell of a lot to her.
Next to that, his hurt feelings didn’t count.
He stopped midroom and shook his head. “Listen to us. We haven’t squabbled like this in years.”
She sniffed. “We never squabbled. We debated. And I usually won.”
“Yet another subject open to argument.”
She bit her lip to hide her smile. Seeing it, he couldn’t help laughing.
“Okay, okay. This one you can win. I understand why you felt you had to convince your dad that you’re superhuman.”
She gave a queenly inclination of her head. “Thank you.”
Anger gone, Caleb dropped into her single easy chair and slid low, spine curved. “Just…don’t forget I’m here, Laurel. For you, any time. You know I mean that.”
Abruptly, tears sparkled in her eyes. She swiped at them impatiently. “Darn it, Caleb! I’m trying to be mad at you!”
“Yeah? You can quit any time.”
“I don’t want to quit! I am competent to raise this baby alone. I swear my father relaxed the minute you stepped in.” She lowered her voice to a gruff note that failed to echo her dad’s. “‘Ah, she has a man after all. I don’t need to worry.’”
She looked cute trying to scowl at him, her lashes still damp, her hair sagging sideways from the elegant topknot she’d earlier achieved.
Caleb found himself smiling. “You do have a man. You don’t have to worry.”
“Aargh!” Laurel jumped to her feet.
“Now, now,” he soothed. “Don’t upset the baby.”
She picked up a pile of magazines from the coffee table and flung them at him.
Caleb laughed as they rained down on him, slithering to the floor and to each side of him in the chair. “Temper, temper.”
She stamped her foot. “Nobody could ever make me as mad as you do!”
“Isn’t that what best friends are for?”
“No! They’re supposed to support each other!”
His amusement vanished, and he was dead serious when he said, “That’s what I’m trying to do. But I can’t support you if you won’t lean, just a bit.”
Her expression changed, and they stared at each other for a wondering moment. She moaned. “I knew I shouldn’t eat dinner,” she said, then dashed to the bathroom.
By the time Caleb got to his feet, she’d dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and was heaving up what she’d just eaten.