A Baby In The House. Pamela Bauer
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It’s too bad everyone can’t have a love like ours. There’d be a lot fewer divorces.”
“You were lucky.”
“Yes, we were. No amount of time can erase what we had together. True love is like that. It’ll go on forever…” She trailed off, her eyes glassy with a distant expression in them. “Even after all these years I still have so many clear memories. And of course I have Mavis. There is no greater reminder of a love shared than a child. Don’t you agree?”
“I certainly do. And your daughter should sleep well tonight. Your lungs sound fine, Dolly.”
“I told you it was only my allergies causing me to cough.”
“Yes, you did,” he said, snapping his bag shut. “Do you have any questions before I go?”
“Oh, you’re leaving so soon?” she said, suddenly sounding very childlike. “I was hoping you could stay and talk.”
“I wish I could, but I have appointments this afternoon. I’m sorry.” His apology couldn’t have been more sincere. It was one of the aspects of his job he wished he could change—there were never enough hours in a day. He regretted not being able to spend more time with his patients and it frustrated him that he had to spend so much of his workday doing paperwork. He wanted to be helping people, which was why he was interested in doing humanitarian work.
She nodded her head in understanding. “Mavis said you’re the hardest-working doctor at the clinic.”
“I don’t know about that. All doctors work hard, Dolly.”
She sighed. “You don’t need to tell me. When you do finally settle down, you’d better make sure it’s with someone who understands that.”
“Of one thing you can be sure, Dolly, and that’s when I do finally get around to doing just that, you’ll be the first to know.” With that statement, he left her with a smile.
THE FIRST TIME KRYSTAL HAD walked into 14 Valentine Place she’d felt at home. If houses had personalities—which Krystal believed they did—this one’s was warm and inviting and definitely female, just like its owner, Leonie Donovan.
Contentment resonated in the polished wood floors and mahogany-trimmed walls. Krystal noticed it every time she stepped through the front door. Her landlady said it was because it had been home to a happy family. Three generations of Donovans had lived in the house and there’d been no divorce, no bitter battles over who owned what, no kids coming and going in split-custody arrangements.
It was only after Leonie’s husband had died unexpectedly that the big old Victorian structure had been converted into a boardinghouse. Everyone understood why Leonie had decided to rent the rooms to women. She’d raised four sons and had reached a point in her life where she wanted to connect with the feminine side of life.
Krystal had been one of the first women to rent a room and, like everyone else who would live at 14 Valentine Place, was treated like a member of a family. It was an extended family that included Leonie’s sons, her daughters-in-law and her grandson. It was a family rich in history, just like the house, and hearing the Donovan brothers talk about their childhoods reminded her how very different their lives had been from hers.
That’s because home to her had been a series of house trailers, none of them double-wide. What little furniture they’d had was either rented or purchased at a garage sale or flea market. There had been no family heirlooms handed down from generation to generation. While Leonie’s home often smelled of lemon-scented furniture polish, the mobile homes where Krystal had lived had reeked of stale cigarette smoke.
Not that Krystal had been unhappy with her childhood—she hadn’t. It was just very different from the one the Donovan boys had experienced, and not just because they lived in a house with a concrete foundation and plaster walls.
She’d grown up in a house of women. She’d never known her father, she didn’t have a brother and she seldom saw her grandfather. If her mother had men friends, she and her sister Carly never saw them.
Krystal knew it was because she was trying to be a good role model for her daughters. To Linda Graham, the most important lesson she could teach her daughters was not to make the same mistakes she had. She’d had not one but two teen pregnancies, and she’d made it clear that she wanted her daughters to have a different life than she’d had. It was why she had imposed such strict rules when it came to dating.
No matter how hard Krystal and Carly had tried to convince her they were teenagers who could be trusted, their mother had refused to allow them to date until they were seniors in high school. Both had thought their mother was unfair, but only Krystal had rebelled against her authority, willing to risk punishment for a chance at romance.
The strict rules may have been a good parenting tactic in Linda Graham’s eyes, but to Krystal they had only created distance in their mother-daughter relationship. Her love life became a frequent source of conflict between them that continued into her late teens and early twenties.
It was one of the reasons Krystal had been eager to move out of Fergus Falls. Besides the limited employment opportunities, the town was small enough that it was difficult to keep her personal relationships private. And as long as she lived there, she felt as if her mother was looking over her shoulder into her love life.
Until she moved into 14 Valentine Place, she’d thought most mothers were probably like hers—critical of whomever their children dated. Then she met Leonie. Even though her landlady was a romance coach, she seldom interfered in her sons’ love lives.
Leonie rarely gave anyone unsolicited advice, yet she was always there for moral support when it was needed. Not only did she encourage the young women who rented rooms from her to feel free to come to her if they wanted to talk about relationships, she designated the living room in the house as the great room where discussions of men and romance became a regular occurrence. It wasn’t long before Krystal came to regard Leonie as a second mother, only with this mother she could talk about everything and anything.
At least she had been able to until a few weeks ago. Now that aspect of their relationship had changed. Krystal had made a mistake. A big mistake. And it was one she was reluctant to admit to anyone, and especially to her mother and Leonie.
Instead she would keep it secret. Not easy for someone who usually blurted out whatever was on her mind. Worried that Leonie would be able to detect that she was keeping something from her, Krystal did her best to avoid seeing her landlady.
Today, however, was Tuesday, which meant Leonie wouldn’t be at home. She’d be teaching a class on the dos and don’ts of dating at the community center and that meant the only other person in the boardinghouse would be Dena Bailey, since the third-floor apartment was still vacant.
As she expected, Dena was in the kitchen. When she saw Krystal she said, “Oh good! You’re home. I was hoping I’d see you.” She motioned for Krystal to come sit beside her. “Come join me for a glass of lemonade.”
Krystal shook her head. “I’ll pass on the lemonade, thanks.” She did go over to the refrigerator, however, to get a bottle of water. When she opened the door, the aroma of the leftover parmesan chicken she’d had the night before nearly caused her to bolt toward the bathroom. She didn’t understand how something could taste so good warm yet smell so bad cold that it made her wish she’d never gone near it.
But then so many things made her stomach queasy. Like when she was in an elevator and someone stepped in wearing perfume. Or the pungent smell of gasoline at the service station. Or the tiny bit of oatmeal left in Leonie’s bowl each morning.
Krystal shuddered and willed her stomach to settle itself. When she sat down at the table, she saw Dena had a bridal magazine spread open in front of her.
“What’s up with that? I thought you and Quinn were going to elope.”
“I thought we were, too, but then we sat down to make plans and before I knew it, we’d reserved the church and booked the reception hall. It’s