Baby: MacAllister-Made Read online

  “How do you know that?” he said, his voice rising. “Just what in the hell makes you such an all-fired expert on the subject, Bren?

  “My family is harping on the fact that their soul mates are their best friends. How do you know that you and I, best friends that we are, aren’t each other’s soul mates? Did you ever stop to think that we could be in love and not even know it?”

  Brenda lifted her chin. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’d know it, if it was true.”

  “Oh, really? Well, spell it out for me. What are the signs, the signals, the feelings, the emotions, the…whatever…that a person has when they’re in love? Come on, lay it on me.”

  “Well, how should I know?” she said, matching his volume. “I’ve never been in love in my entire life. I…I assume that…that a person can just tell when…just feels it…just knows…just—” She threw up her hands. “I don’t have a clue as to how two people realize they’re in love with each other. I really don’t.”

  Richard sighed. “I don’t, either. What I believe is that what we do have together is enough to base a marriage on and raise a child.”

  “No.” Brenda shook her head. “No, it isn’t.”

  “Okay,” Richard said, raising both hands in a gesture of peace. “The subject is closed…for now. I’ll go get my television. Be a buddy and serve me a dish of cherry cobbler, would you? Thanks, pal.”

  Richard strode past Brenda and headed for the apartment door.

  “You don’t have be so grumpy about it,” she yelled after him.

  “I feel like being grumpy,” he said, yanking open the door. “So, damn it, I will.”

  Brenda jerked as Richard slammed the door, then of their own volition her fingers floated upward to rest on her lips, which still tingled slightly from the intensity of the kiss she’d shared with Richard. She shifted her hands to splay them on her stomach.

  “Oh, baby girl,” she said, fresh tears filling her eyes, “I’m getting so confused, so muddled. Your mommy is a wreck, sweetheart. I just hope I can figure out my complicated feelings, because my relationship with your daddy—my entire future—is what’s at stake.”

  Nine

  Brenda smiled as she entered her apartment, then frowned as she closed the door behind her, not having received Richard’s cheerful greeting upon her arrival home from the travel agency.

  “Richard?” she called, but was answered with only silence.

  As she crossed the living room, walked down the hall and entered the bedroom, she was aware and rather unsettled by the fact that she was very disappointed that Richard wasn’t home as he had been every evening for the past week.

  She placed her shoes in the closet, changed into a pair of maternity slacks and a long T-shirt, then hung the loose-fitting dress she’d worn to work on a hanger.

  Neat and tidy, she thought, laughing softly. She was really getting the hang of this organization-at-home program, and it really hadn’t been that difficult to do. All it had taken was for Richard to point out that she simply needed to apply the same skills at home that she used at the travel agency.

  Where on earth was Richard? she thought, wandering back into the living room. A note. Maybe he’d left her a note, telling her where he was off to and when he’d return home.

  A search of the kitchen, where no wonderfully aromatic dinner was cooking, revealed no clue as to where Richard was.

  Brenda sank onto the sofa with a sigh, leaned her head on the top and stared at the ceiling.

  This was silly, she admonished herself. She had no cause to feel so empty, so…so strangely lonely, just because Richard hadn’t been at the apartment to welcome her home after a long day at work.

  They’d only been living together, to quote the man, for a week, but she now realized how much she’d been enjoying Richard’s company, and how very nice it was to have someone to come home to, to talk and share with over dinner and through the hours of the evening.

  Darn it, she missed Richard and wanted him to walk through the door right this minute.

  Get a grip, Brenda, she thought, clicking her tongue in self-disgust. This living together was a temporary arrangement. She knew that.

  Richard was only going to be sleeping on her sofa until the army of ants in his apartment succumbed to the exterminator’s chemicals—which Richard said gave him a terrible headache—or until he left on his next assignment.

  She knew all that, accepted it. She just hadn’t been prepared to come home to an empty apartment today. She’d bought Richard a present and had been looking forward to giving it to him at dinner.

  How was it possible, she mused, that a lifestyle only one week old could seem as though it had been the norm for a very long time? She sure didn’t know the answer to that question.

  There had been no more kisses shared with Richard during the past week, nor had he brought up the subject again of their getting married. They’d simply lived their lives…so, okay, together…and it had been nice…so, okay, more than nice…and she really, really didn’t like sitting here all alone and…so, okay, that was unreasonable but—

  “Oh, hush,” Brenda said aloud. “You’re driving yourself crazy again, Brenda Henderson. You think too much.”

  The sound of Richard’s key in the lock brought Brenda to her feet. She turned as Richard entered the apartment and kicked the door closed behind him, his arms filled with paper bags.

  “Hi,” Brenda said, smiling. “I was wondering where you were. Not that you’re accountable to me, or anything like that, but I looked for a note, not that you’re obligated to tell me where you are every second, but… I’m glad you’re home, Richard.”

  Richard stopped in his tracks and looked at Brenda intently.

  “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her warmly. “That’s really nice to hear, Bren. It’s good to be here, to be…be home.”

  There was half a room separating them as they smiled at each other. They didn’t move, didn’t need to close the distance between them, because they felt connected somehow, as though they were only inches apart.

  Then their smiles disappeared as a feeling began to weave around them, creating a nearly crackling aura of sensuality, of heat, of pulsing desire that caused hearts to race and breaths to catch.

  “Yes, well,” Richard said finally, breaking the eerie spell and averting his eyes from Brenda’s. “Yes. I didn’t think I’d be gone so long, Bren, or I would have left you a note. That would have been the thoughtful thing to do, and I would have if I’d known that quitting my job was going to take so much time. I stopped and picked up Chinese food for dinner. I hope that’s all right. I know you like Chinese so—”

  “Halt,” Brenda said, raising one hand as her eyes widened. “You quit your job? Your job? You quit? You did?”

  “I did,” Richard said, nodding. “Come on, let’s eat while this stuff is still hot.”

  Brenda poured soda into tall glasses while Richard pulled small white boxes from the paper bags. He placed another small bag on the end of the table. Brenda put glasses, plates and forks on the table, slid onto her chair, then looked at Richard.

  “I can’t stand it another minute,” she said. “You quit your job? Why?”

  “Fill your plate,” Richard said. “Flash is hungry. Where’s your milk?”

  “Milk would be yucky with Chinese food. I’ll drink some later,” she said, scooping food onto her plate. She took a bite and nodded. “Delicious. You quit your job?”

  Richard raised one finger, consumed some food, then met Brenda’s gaze.

  “I went to see my boss,” he said, “and told him that from now on I only wanted assignments that were close enough to be able to come home every night. He said that was absolutely impossible.

  “So, I made a pitch for traveling where if I hadn’t whipped the problem in two weeks, I would be replaced by someone else to finish it. He said that wasn’t efficient nor feasible.” Richard shrugged. “So I quit,” he said, peering into a white box. “Want some rice?”
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  “I already have rice,” Brenda said. “Richard, you’ve lost me here. I still don’t understand why you quit your job.”

  “Bren,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I nearly went crazy while I was on that last assignment. All I could think about was that you were here alone, pregnant with my baby, and I wasn’t with you. I want to be here every step till our child is born, not hear over the telephone that you’re turning into Porky Piggy.”

  “Oh, thanks a lot.” Brenda laughed, but quickly became serious. “That’s very sweet, Richard, but don’t you think that quitting your job was a rather drastic step?”

  “Nope,” he said. “Because I fully intend to stand by your side through the remaining months until our baby is born. And then? What kind of father could I be if I was never home? I’d probably have to introduce myself to my own daughter every time I came back from an assignment, or wear a name tag or something.”

  “Now that,” Brenda said, laughing, “was funny.”

  Richard leaned forward. “No, Brenda, there is nothing funny about it. I am going to be a father and that is very important to me. I want to be the best I can be in that role and I can’t accomplish that if I’m hundreds, or even thousands, of miles away for weeks at a stretch. Understand?”

  Brenda nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, I do, and I really respect and admire what you’re saying. But aren’t you a little young to retire?”

  “I’m not planning on sitting on my tush or hitting a little white ball around a golf course every day. I’m going to start my own company of computer troubleshooters,” he said. “I’ll personally take on the jobs that are close by, and my crew will handle the traveling assignments.

  “I have a great deal of money saved, because I was on the go so much I really didn’t have time to spend it. My nest egg will see me through the lean months that go along with starting a new company.

  “I’ll offer not only troubleshooting for systems that are down, but also provide a service of analyzing, recommending and installing computer packages that will meet the needs of a client’s firm. There. That’s it in a nutshell. What do you think?”

  “I think…” Brenda started, then stopped speaking as unexpected tears filled her eyes. “I think that our daughter is going to be a lucky little girl to have you for a father, Richard. I think you’re…you’re wonderful for putting her first and—” She sniffled and shook her head.

  “You’re first, too, and so am I,” he said. “What I mean is, you deserve better than to handle this pregnancy all alone while I’m off to hell and back. You shouldn’t have to take care of the baby all alone, either, while I’m gone. You’re just as important as Flash, Bren.

  “The thing is, so am I. My needs are being met by this decision, too. I want, and will have, the opportunity to see you every day, watch you grow bigger with our baby, be there when she’s born, then take part in every step of her life. I did this…quit my job…for all of us, for our…our family, which is you, me and baby girl MacAllister.”

  “Ohhh,” Brenda said. “Ohhh.”

  “Oops,” Richard said. “Here we go again.” He reached into his back pocket for a clean white handkerchief and gave it to Brenda. “It’s a good thing my folks always include a package of these among my gifts at Christmas. I have a big supply.”

  “That number is dwindling,” Brenda said, dabbing at her nose. “The washing machines consider your handkerchiefs a gourmet delight. Whoosh. They’re gone.”

  “That’s something else I’ve been meaning to speak to you about,” Richard said.

  “What? That I should buy you a zillion new handkerchiefs?”

  “No,” he said, chuckling. “There are plenty left in my dresser drawer. I’m talking about not wanting you to do the laundry anymore. That’s manual labor, Bren, and you shouldn’t be doing it. I’ll tend to the wash from now on. If I don’t have time to use the gobbling machines here in the building, I’ll send it out to be done. The point is, you’re not to worry about it.”

  “Ohhh,” Brenda said, then smacked the handkerchief against her nose again.

  “I’m waiting for you to react to the fact that I called our daughter baby girl MacAllister,” Richard said. “I asked you to think about her having my name, remember? We haven’t discussed it since I got home from Dallas. Did you? Think about it?”

  “Yes, I did,” Brenda said, nodding, “but I didn’t see a solution. If the baby is a MacAllister and you’re a MacAllister, I’d feel… Oh, I don’t know, Richard…sort of like odd man out or something.”

  Not if you married me and became a MacAllister, too, Richard mentally yelled. No, don’t do it. He had to keep his big mouth shut on the subject, not push Brenda about marrying him, or she was liable to toss him out on his ear and send him home to his apartment that was supposedly reeking with imaginary chemicals that were going to demolish the imaginary ants.

  No, pleading his case about marriage had gotten him nothing more than daggers flashing from Brenda’s gorgeous eyes and a stubborn, negative lift of her chin.

  His best bet was to continue on as they were…living together, making it work as they coexisted each day and night, eventually cause Brenda to realize that what they had together was enough to base a future on.

  But, oh, man, those nights were pure agony. Not only was Brenda’s sofa lumpy as hell, but he kept having sensuous dreams about her when he did manage to sleep.

  It was taking all the willpower he possessed not to march down that hallway in the middle of the night, slip into bed with Bren and kiss her senseless. Then they’d make such fantastically beautiful love together and—

  “Richard?”

  “What!” he said, much too loudly.

  “Why are you yelling?” Brenda said. “Gracious.”

  “Sorry. My mind went off somewhere,” he said. It trekked right into bed with you, sweet Brenda. “Where were we?”

  “Baby Girl MacAllister,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah. Well, all right, we’ll put that on hold for now because we don’t have a solution at this point in time. How’s that?”

  “Fine. Oh, I bought you a present today, Richard. I saw it and thought of you and… I’ll be right back.”

  Brenda hurried from the room and returned with a bag that she gave to Richard. She sat down again and smiled at him.

  “Open it,” she said.

  Richard reached into the bag and pulled out a hardcover book.

  “I’ll be damned,” he said, smiling. “I have here a book titled So You’re Going to Be a Daddy. Thank you very much, Brenda. I’ll read every word. You thought of me when you saw it?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Interesting,” he said, reaching for the package he’d set on the end of the table. “This is for you. I saw it and thought of you.”

  Brenda pulled out the book that was inside the bag, and a gasp escaped from her lips.

  “Oh, my goodness,” she said. “You bought me So You’re Going to Be a Mommy.” She wrapped her arms around the book and hugged it to her breasts. “Is this weird, Richard? That we chose the same book for each other? Well, except for the mommy daddy thing. Don’t you think it’s rather…spooky?”

  “I’m not sure,” Richard said slowly, staring at his book. “Wait a minute.” He looked at Brenda again. “Jack and I were chatting once, and he was telling me about his buddy Brandon over in Prescott, Arizona. Brandon had shared a story with Jack about his relationship with Andrea, the woman he married. They had a baby girl in the spring, remember?”

  “Oh, yes,” Brenda said. “Brandon was eligible for the MacAllister Baby Bet because he is such a close friend of Jack’s. Brandon said early on that he and Andrea would have a girl and they did, of course. What does that have to do with these books?”

  “Well, according to what Brandon told Jack and Jack told me, Brandon and Andrea had all kinds of problems to solve before they made their lifelong commitment.

  “Anyway, they were together on a Christmas and lo and behold the
y gave each other the same gift. One of those small globe things that makes snow fall when you turn it upside down.”

  “They had no idea what the other person was going to give them?”

  “Nope,” Richard said. “Brandon has these terrific great-aunts—Aunt Prudence and Aunt Charity. Jack said they are nifty ladies. The aunts explained, on that Christmas, that the matching gifts meant that Andrea and Brandon were…were in love with each other, that it was a given, done, etched in stone. That’s what it meant, Bren, the message of those matching gifts. Brandon and Andrea were…soul mates.”

  Brenda plunked her book quickly on the table as though it had suddenly become too hot to handle, then stared at it with wide eyes, her heart racing.

  “That’s…that’s a romantic story,” she said, her voice not quite steady. She met Richard’s frowning gaze, matching his expression. “But it’s just that—a story.”

  “It was true,” Richard said quietly. “Brandon and Andrea are very happily married now and have started their family. It was true, Bren.”

  Brenda gripped the edge of the table and leaned toward Richard. “It has nothing to do with us, Richard,” she said. “We know exactly where we stand emotionally in each other’s lives. We’re best friends. This book we bought each other is a…a coincidence, that’s all.”

  “Brenda, come on, give me a break. There were a couple of hundred books on parenting to choose from in that store I was in, and I’m sure that’s true of where you shopped.” Richard waved his book in the air. “This means something, and I think we should address it. According to Aunt Prudence and Aunt Charity, you and I are—”

  “No,” Brenda said, smacking the table with the palm of one hand. “You love me, Richard, but you’re not in love with me, no matter what your aunt Margaret believes. All the time and attention, the hovering around me, isn’t directed toward me, it’s for the baby I’m carrying. I know that. You know that. People who are in love are aware of that fact, for heaven’s sake.”