Hazardous Husband Page 4

  In midnote the Muzak stopped.

  “Mrs. Gerard, this is Dr. Glaser.”

  Lily’s throat felt as though it had closed up on her. “Hi,” she said breathlessly.

  “Looks as though we’ve had a successful insemination. Congratulations, Lily. You’re going to have a baby.”

  “A baby,” she repeated, her voice filled with wonderment. Her legs gave out beneath her. She dropped her backside onto the top of her desk.

  “You’re a lucky lady.” Dr. Glaser’s deep chuckle filled her ears. “Not many people hit a homer first time at bat.”

  Lucky lady. Lily couldn’t help but smile. She wondered what Dr. Glaser would say if he knew the truth, if he knew just how unlucky a lady she really was.

  “Once you’ve had time to adjust to the news, give my receptionist a call,” he said. “She’ll set up an appointment for your first checkup.” He paused. “I’m glad everything went so smoothly.”

  Her smile deepened. “Thank you, Dr. Glaser.”

  Feeling almost light-headed, she hung up the phone. Gently she pressed a hand to her stomach. Until this moment, she’d refused to consider the possibility that the insemination had worked, that she had conceived. In less than nine months, she would have a baby.

  Eric. She reached for the phone. She had to call Eric.

  She stopped, her hand resting on the receiver. Eric had waited over two hours for her at the clinic the day of the insemination. Her chest tightened as she recalled the anger she’d felt when she’d walked into the lobby and found him still there. Not angry at Eric, but angry with herself. She had been so relieved he hadn’t left.

  Lily sighed. When she had asked Eric to be a sperm donor, she assumed he’d pay a passing interest in what was happening. Since the insemination, he’d showered her with phone calls, dinner invitations, visits to the bakery—all under the guise of friendship. But she knew the truth. He was checking up on her.

  Why did he have to be so caring? So considerate? Why did she have to enjoy the unexpected attention? Now she couldn’t wait to tell him the news that she was pregnant with his child.

  Not his child.

  Her child.

  She dropped her hand from the phone. Lily recalled the day she’d learned of the curse. The day she’d turned thirteen and had been curious about the lack of men in her life. She’d been foolish enough to scoff at her mother’s tale of a family curse. When she’d married David, she was determined to prove her mother wrong. Pain pressed against her heart. She’d learned the hard way that she would never have the perfect storybook family. A husband, a father for her child, wasn’t in her future.

  In the past few years and especially these past few weeks, she’d come to depend on Eric. His humor, his wit, his company all filled a void in her life. But she was allowing herself to become much too close to him. She wasn’t being fair to Eric or to herself.

  She stared at the phone.

  She would have to tell him the news. But she’d also make it clear his involvement in her pregnancy was over. She’d made the decision to raise her baby on her own. Now it was up to her to see that she stuck with that decision.

  * * *

  Seven o’clock that evening, Eric sat at his office desk, making a final check on a legal brief. At the credenza across the room, his secretary, Mrs. Hunter, was busy sorting through documents to file. The phone rang. Mrs. Hunter turned, her hands filled with papers.

  Eric shook his head. “I’ve got it.” He reached for the phone. “Eric Mitchell.”

  “Answering your own phone? Has anyone ever told you, you work too hard?”

  Adam smiled, recognizing the caller’s voice. “Only my mother and a pesky redhead have had the nerve.”

  He leaned back in his chair and listened to the sound of Lily’s laughter.

  “If I ever meet your mother, remind me to commend her on her good sense.”

  “I will.” Eric ran a finger over the file on his desk, recalling the last time Lily had called him at the office, the day he’d gone to the fertility clinic and become a sperm donor. “What can I do for you, Lily?”

  He listened as Lily took a deep breath.

  Eric inhaled slowly, waiting.

  “I went to the clinic today for a pregnancy test.”

  “And?”

  “The results were positive. I’m pregnant.”

  He exhaled, giving himself a moment to cope with the flood of mixed emotions before answering. Lily had told him the chances of a successful insemination the first try were slim. A smile touched his lips. He felt an unexpected rush of pure male pride. Guess there was no question now—his sperm certainly was good enough.

  Macho pride aside, Lily was pregnant. All the pamphlets in the world couldn’t have prepared him for the shock. He wondered what the appropriate response was for a sperm donor who had just found out he had successfully impregnated a donee.

  He frowned. To hell with etiquette. This was Lily. His best friend. Nothing, not even a pregnancy, would change a relationship as strong as theirs.

  “That’s great,” he said finally, forcing a casual tone. “Just great. We should go out and celebrate. Have you eaten? I’ll take you out for dinner.”

  “No.” Lily’s blunt refusal vibrated in his ear. “I’ve had a busy day. I’m really bushed.”

  “How about tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday, Eric. The start of the weekend. It’s one of the bakery’s busiest days.”

  He felt a twinge of irritation. For whatever reason, Lily was putting him off. Maybe she was embarrassed, he told himself. They’d been through a very intimate experience. As intimate an experience two people can have short of being lovers. Regaining the comfortable footing of their old friendship might be harder than he thought.

  Maybe she just needed time alone to adjust to the news. He should drop the subject and give her the time she needed, but he hated taking no for an answer. “The bakery’s closed on Sunday. We’ll celebrate then.”

  “I’ve already made plans for Sunday. I’m sorry, Eric.” Before he could say another word, she continued, “Look, I’ll call you sometime next week. We’ll make plans then. Bye.”

  Eric stared at the phone in his hand. Irritation latched onto his tumultuous mood like a prickly burr. Before, he’d only thought Lily was trying to avoid him. Now, he was sure of it. When a woman called to tell him he’d made her pregnant, the last thing he expected was a brush-off. He slammed the phone back onto its cradle.

  Mrs. Hunter jumped. “My goodness, Eric. You’ve got to learn to take no a little more gracefully.”

  He’d forgotten his secretary was still in his office. She’d been a witness to the entire conversation. A hot flush of embarrassment warmed his face. “Aren’t you finished yet?” he growled.

  “Lily’s certainly put you in a fine mood. Anything wrong?”

  His secretary had signed the consent form. She was the only person he’d told that he’d agreed to be a sperm donor. Who was he kidding? She was the only person he would ever tell. Maybe she could help him understand Lily.

  “She’s pregnant,” he admitted.

  Mrs. Hunter stared at him for a long moment. “Well, congratulations. You’re going to be a daddy.”

  He rose to his feet, his chair spinning out behind him. “No, Lily’s going to be a mommy.”

  “I see,” she said, raising one brow. “That’s why you’re in such a good mood? Because you’re not going to be a daddy?”

  Frustrated, he slammed his fisted hands into his pants pockets and crossed to the windows. He stared out at the dusky sky.

  “Eric, did you ever wonder why Lily asked you to be a donor?”

  He frowned, turning away from the windows. “What do you mean?”

  Mrs. Hunter shrugged. “She could have had an anonymous donor. I find it curious that she went to the trouble of asking you to be the father.”

  “If you’re insinuating there’s something between Lily and me, you’re wrong. She was married t
o David. We’re just good friends.”

  “Good friends who have something more than a death in common. Now you have a baby.”

  Her words had a stunning effect. He felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs.

  She smiled patiently. “Eric, did you really expect your friendship with Lily not to change?”

  He took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I expected. She needed my help—”

  “And you certainly did help. Now she’s pushing you away.”

  “That’s the way it seems.” He glanced back at the windows. “Do you think I made a mistake?”

  “Not yet you haven’t.”

  The emphatic tone of his secretary’s voice surprised him. “I’m glad one of us is sure.” He shook his head. “What am I supposed to do now?”

  “You’re a smart man, Eric. You figure it out.” Mrs. Hunter turned on her heel and strode to the door. “Go home, Eric. It’s late.”

  “Now she gives me advice,” he muttered as the office door clicked shut behind his secretary.

  He glanced out the window. The sun had almost bade its final farewell. The circle of light from his desk lamp fell short of the window, leaving him in the shadow of darkness. He’d never felt so confused or so alone.

  He clenched his hands into fists of frustration. He wanted to go over to Lily’s and shake some sense into that stubborn head of hers. She was pregnant. How could she push him away at a time when she needed him the most?

  Slowly he unclenched his fingers. Maybe it was time he admitted the truth. A part of him was relieved Lily didn’t want to put the burden of parenthood on his shoulders. He hadn’t asked to be a father. And as far as he knew, his being a father was the last thing Lily wanted.

  Obviously she didn’t want to see him. Maybe he should give her some time. Let things cool down for a couple of days. Then see how she felt. If she still didn’t want his help, then fine. He’d have given it his best shot. Lily would be a single parent. He had to respect her wishes.

  Eric stared blindly into the night. So why did he feel so lousy?

  He sat down in his chair, opened a desk drawer and withdrew a file marked Personal. He riffled through the pages until he came across his copy of the donor consent form. Minutes slowly slipped away as he stared at the document in his hand.

  When he’d signed the consent form, he’d had the nerve to think of himself as noble. He’d told himself he was helping a friend in need. He scowled. Nobility—fairy-tale fluff. Contracts were his field of expertise. He’d gone over the consent form with a microscope, making sure that his best interests were being protected.

  He tossed the form onto his desk. He’d signed away all parental rights and responsibilities without a moment’s hesitation. It looked good on paper. But once again, it was time for a reality check. Thanks to him, a child had been conceived. A child who would never know his father.

  He’d spent most of his life without the love and care of a father. How could he have sentenced his child to the same fate?

  * * *

  Saturday, the bakery’s biggest business day of the week, and Lily felt as though she were moving in slow motion. She refused to attribute her lethargy to her pregnancy.

  She blamed Eric.

  Two days had passed without a word from him. But he’d never strayed far from her mind. During the waking hours, she’d found herself jumping every time the phone rang or the doorbell chimed, wondering if it was Eric. At night, thoughts of him left her too restless to sleep. She’d spent most of last night tossing and turning in her bed. A part of her wished she hadn’t been so brusque with him the last time they’d talked. But another part wondered if she’d been blunt enough. What if Eric hadn’t gotten the message? What if he insisted on being a father to her child?

  Despite the oppressive heat of the kitchen, Lily shivered. She realized she was merely putting off the inevitable. This brief respite from Eric wouldn’t last forever. Eventually she’d have to face him. She only wished she knew what she’d say when she did.

  Thank you for your help, Eric. Now that I’m pregnant I don’t ever want to see you again? Lily groaned. Her intentions may have been good. She may have been trying to spare Eric the obligations and risks involved in parenting her child, but even to her well-intentioned ears it sounded as though she were giving him the old, thankless boot.

  “Lily, Mrs. Fogel, line one,” Ann said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Lily gave Ann a tired nod. She wiped a hand across her forehead. Her skin felt cold and clammy to the touch even though the kitchen was hot. She should have worn a dress, not slacks. The cotton fabric was sticking to her legs like a second skin. She took a deep breath and inhaled the cloying sweetness of icing and freshly baked cakes that permeated the air. A bitter taste filled her mouth. Lily struggled to control a bout of queasiness as she picked up the phone.

  “Hello, Mrs. Fogel.”

  Mrs. Fogel was a pleasant woman who hadn’t suffered the prewedding jitters Lily usually associated with mothers of the bride. But now the woman’s frantic voice boomed across the phone line.

  The commotion brought Ann to her side.

  “Slow down, Mrs. Fogel. Which part of the wedding cake is missing?” Lily held the phone inches away from her ear, still able to hear the words clearly.

  “The top...with the figures of the bride and groom?”

  Lily’s unsteady stomach lurched. She and Ann exchanged worried glances. The Fogel wedding and reception were being held at a nearby resort in Scottsdale. The wedding was to start in less than an hour, with the reception following immediately. Time was running out. Ann began a search of the kitchen.

  Lily turned her attention to soothing the woman on the phone. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Fogel. We’ll find the cake. No, I’m not sure how this happened.”

  Lily pressed a hand to her tummy. She’d been in charge of the Fogel cake. She’d supervised its preparation and loading. if part of the cake was missing, she had no one to blame but herself. The thought of her own carelessness ruining a bride’s special day made her feel worse.

  Ann disappeared into the showroom. Seconds later, Lily heard a triumphant whoop. Ann returned to the kitchen holding the cake. Lily drew in a shaky breath. From the groom in his shiny black tux to the bride in her white net dress, the cake looked perfect.

  “Mrs. Fogel, we found the cake. It’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  While she apologized for the mix-up, Ann packed the cake and sent it on its way with the delivery boy. Lily replaced the phone on its cradle, breathing a sigh of relief. Unfortunately, her relief hadn’t caught up with the rest of her body. Her stomach still churned. She felt oddly light-headed. She pulled up a stool and sat down hard. Closing her eyes, she asked, “Where was it?”

  “Someone put it in the front showroom,” Ann said, concern edging her voice. “You don’t look so good, Lily.”

  Leaning her elbows on the counter, Lily rubbed her throbbing temples. “I’ll be fine. I just need a moment to collect myself.”

  The front door chimed the arrival of a customer.

  Lily moaned.

  “You keep sitting,” Ann said. “I’ll handle the customer.”

  On Saturdays, Lily divided her time between decorating cakes, sending the finished products off to various receptions and meeting with prospective clients. Usually she handled the job with ease, thriving on the fast, hectic pace. But today her energy level had hit an all-time low. She slumped a notch lower in her seat. She couldn’t wait for the day to be over.

  Then Lily heard Eric’s deep voice. She forced her eyes open.

  When David had died, Eric had been there with a strong shoulder for her to lean on. Now, with her feeling sick and tired, that shoulder seemed awful tempting. She gave herself a mental shake. What was wrong with her? The last thing she needed was for Eric to see her languishing like a flower in the desert heat. In front of him, she needed to be healthy, full of pep and vigor, or he’d never believe she could handle this pregnanc
y alone. She jumped off the stool.

  Her first mistake.

  Taking a step was her next.

  “Oh, no,” she moaned, feeling the room spin beneath her feet. Her muscles went as limp as a rag doll’s. She grabbed for the counter, but missed. Then, expecting to hit the tiled floor, she felt herself being swept away into a pair of strong arms.

  “Lily.” Eric’s voice rumbled in her ear.

  She wanted to answer, but couldn’t. She pried open her eyes. The room blurred, making her feel as though she were watching a movie out of focus.

  “It’s too hot in here.” Eric sounded worried.

  “The Wedding Alcove’s cooler.” Ann’s voice penetrated the fog.

  They were moving now.

  “Put me down, Eric,” she murmured, resting her face against the solid strength of his shoulder. His shirt felt soft, the skin beneath warm. She wished the dizziness would end.

  His chest rose and fell sharply. “She’s arguing,” he said, cradling her tight. “She’ll be okay.”

  “I’ll get some water,” Ann said.

  The wicker love seat creaked as he lowered her onto its cushions. After Eric released her, he stepped back. A rush of cool air bathed her skin. The breeze felt heavenly, but she missed the security of his arms. Lily flopped her head back against the cushions, closed her eyes and told her body to relax.

  “Put your head between your legs,” Eric said, his tone brisk.

  She opened an eye and squinted at him. He was down on one knee before her, and she saw the deep lines of concern that etched his face. The look was almost her undoing. She felt the sharp sting of tears press against her eyes as a confusing mixture of emotions collided in her mind.

  She had never fainted before. Fainting scared her. Being unable to control what was happening to her body left her feeling vulnerable. It felt good having someone fuss over her. For just a moment, she didn’t want to be strong. She wanted to be pampered, protected.

  Lily pushed these feelings aside. She couldn’t admit vulnerability to Eric or even to herself. If she acknowledged she needed his help, she’d be giving up her independence. She couldn’t allow Eric to feel a sense of responsibility toward her or her baby.