Chapter Twelve

Karissa had never been so happy. There weren’t enough words in all the languages in the world to describe the sentiment in her heart. She couldn’t wait to tell Malcolm. Too bad there wasn’t a phone in the examination room.

“I admit I was a little worried,” Dr. Taylor said. “I wondered if the problem wasn’t that you weren’t getting pregnant, but that your body wasn’t maintaining the pregnancies.”

“You thought I might be miscarrying each month?” Karissa shivered.

“Well, not every month, but something like that.” He glanced down at the chart, and the fluorescent lights reflected off his bald head. “But your hormone levels are right where they should be. I can’t tell you why, but everything seems to be proceeding normally. I’ll want your regular doctor to keep a close eye on you, but I don’t anticipate any more problems.”

“Thank you,” Karissa said.

He shrugged. “Don’t thank me. I didn’t do anything. Except for the fertility pills.”

Karissa laughed. “Maybe it was me. I quit smoking, you know. Let’s see, it’s the second week of July, so it’s been over three months now. Plus, I’ve had no coffee, tea, or any medication at all. And I’ve been eating right.”

“You sound like one of those Mormons, or something,” Dr. Taylor said with a smile.

“Or something,” Karissa agreed. “Maybe they know what they’re talking about after all.”

“From what I hear, they are a very strange group.”

For some reason, the comment rankled her. What do I care? she thought.

“Regardless, I’m going to keep your experience in mind and recommend a better diet to some of my other fertility patients. It’ll be interesting to see what happens.” He set his papers down, and his eyes met hers. “Now, don’t worry about how much weight you gain, as long as you’re eating a healthy diet.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You’re thin as a rail.”

He grimaced. “I forget to eat,” he said, sounding apologetic. From that Karissa perceived that his work had taken precedence in his life. She glanced at her watch.

“How about lunch and coffee?” she asked. “Or juice, since I’m not having any caffeine.”

He nodded. “Thank you, I think I will. I’ve an hour before my next appointment.”

She stopped by her office to call Malcolm on his cellular phone, but there was no response. “That’s strange. He carries it with him everywhere.”

“Maybe he’s in the shower,” Dr. Taylor suggested.

On the way to the hospital cafeteria, they met Damon Wolfe. Karissa hadn’t seen him since they had finished their presentation of Jesse’s new programs to the board last April. They had talked several times on the phone in the past months, but any problems that had arisen hadn’t really been worth his notice. “There you are,” he said. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“I didn’t know you were here, Damon. It’s good to see you.” Karissa shook his hand warmly. She’d missed seeing him over the past few months.

“I’ve just flown in today to see how my favorite hospital is doing.”

“You’re checking up on me?” Karissa teased.

“No, but I’ve been hearing some interesting news.” Damon’s sharp amber brown eyes searched hers, missing nothing. “Is it true?”

Karissa laughed. “Oh, yes! Can you believe it? I’m finally going to have a baby! I was going to tell you, of course, but I wanted to make sure everything was going all right before I told everybody. I haven’t even told my own parents or let Malcolm tell his. He’s chomping at the bit to do so. But until Dr. Taylor here gave me the okay . . . You have met Dr. Taylor, haven’t you?” They hadn’t met, and Karissa made the introductions. “We’re going down for something to eat. Want to join us?”

“Sure, I was headed there myself since I couldn’t find you.” Damon’s narrow face glanced at her stomach, as if expecting to see signs of the baby already. “So does this mean I’m going to have to find a new administrator?” His fingers twisted the ends of his blonde mustache.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” Karissa said.

“Well, let me know.” Damon shook his head again and gave her a smile that did not reach his eyes. “And here I always thought I’d get you to leave Malcolm for me,” he said jokingly. “Especially now that we’ve both quit smoking.” There was something in his voice that didn’t match the joviality he was trying to portray. Karissa suddenly understood that her pregnancy bothered him. Now that her dream had come true, would she have to worry about keeping her job?

“Not while you still have your moustache,” she countered lightly. “But congratulations about stopping smoking. I wish I could get Malcolm to quit.”

They arrived at the cafeteria and Damon motioned for her to go in front of him. “I stopped smoking because of my doctor’s orders.”

Karissa glanced at Dr. Taylor. “Are all you doctors against smoking?”

“Not all of us,” he answered dryly. “The profession in general makes big bucks from smokers.”

“That’s sad,” Karissa said.

“Not as sad as you not liking my moustache,” Damon returned. Karissa laughed.

Halfway through their meal, Karissa excused herself to call Malcolm again. There was still no response. She was tempted to call Brionney at the house to see if she had heard from him, but she didn’t want to wake her or the two youngest girls from their naps. Since finding out about the twins, Brionney had been ordered to take things very easy, and that meant a lot of sleep and downtime. Besides, if she talked to Brionney, she’d probably blurt out the doctor’s findings, and she wanted Malcolm to be next to hear the great news.

When she returned to the table, Damon and Dr. Taylor were in a tense discussion. Both smiled briefly at her and plunged once more into the conversation “The men are far too authoritarian,” Dr. Taylor said.

“Why?” Damon replied. “Because they teach that the women should stay at home to raise their children? Because they believe that a man should carry the burden of earning a living and taking responsibility for his family? I think they have a very valid point. You’ve read the studies. Children are better off when a parent is at home with them, be it mother or father. And generally, if there is a choice to be made, I think a mother is a better, gentler choice, especially since men still tend to make a better wage, unjustified as that may be.”

“I do agree with those studies,” Dr. Taylor said, “but I think the ideal is far from realistic.”

“Agreed, but it is a better situation.”

“For the children,” Dr. Taylor conceded. “But what about the mother? Why don’t we ask Karissa how she feels about it?”

“Yeah, she’s Mormon, even if she’s not active. She can tell us how the women feel about staying home.”

Dr. Taylor colored slightly and his smooth forehead wrinkled. “You’re a Mormon?”

Karissa nodded. “How on earth did you get to talking about this?”

Dr. Taylor’s bare head nodded toward Damon. “Two young men came knocking on his door.”

Damon’s moustache twitched. “My son let them in a few months ago when I wasn’t home. I let them come back because he was curious. With me present, of course. I was worried about brainwashing.” He had the good grace to look embarrassed. “I find them interesting. A religion, definitely not a cult.”

“Of course they’re not a cult,” Karissa said. “But some of them are overbearing, just like in any organization. Take my father, for instance. He—” She broke off, but the two men regarded her intently.

“What about your father?” Damon prompted.

“Never mind.” Karissa dismissed her father with a wave of her hand. Suddenly, she had a headache. “Can we talk about something else?”

Damon stared at her for a moment, as if trying to wrench the information from her telepathically, then nodded slowly. He turned to Dr. Taylor. “You’re a family man, aren’t you?”

Dr. Taylor darted a glance in Karissa’s direction before replying, “Yes, my wife and I have three children.”

“Who watches them?”

“Why, my wife does. I—” Dr. Taylor nodded. “Oh, I see,” he said. “Well, as a doctor I can afford to—”

“That’s just it. All men have the right to be able to support their families. One could argue that if more women—no offense, Karissa—if more women stayed home, more men would have good jobs available so they could support their families.”

“That sounds rather chauvinistic,” Dr. Taylor said. Karissa had to agree.

“I’m not saying I believe it,” Damon countered. “I’m just putting it out for discussion.”

“Well, I’ve got to get back to work,” Karissa put in. She wasn’t up to listening to their solutions to the world’s problems. Even so, the discussion had opened a Pandora’s box inside her own head—but one she would deal with later. Right now, her work seemed unimportant in the face of finally having a child.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Damon protested. He reached out a hand to touch her arm but pulled back before actually making contact. He looked at his hand as if wondering who it belonged to.

Karissa clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”

“That will soon change,” Dr. Taylor said with a grin.

“Don’t I know it. My friend Brionney spends most of her time in the kitchen.”

“With twins on the way, I wouldn’t wonder,” Damon said. “That reminds me, would you have Jesse call me? I’ve got some ideas for a partnership I want to run by him.”

Karissa made her escape but felt their eyes following her as she left. Why did she suddenly feel so uncomfortable around Damon? He’d always been one of her best friends in Alaska.

For the rest of the afternoon she immersed herself in paperwork, marveling again at how much easier Jesse’s programs made her job. Of course, she’d been the one who decided they needed new programs, and Damon had been her principal support, even when others on the board had questioned the expense.

Thinking of Damon brought back the comment he’d made about her leaving Malcolm. Could he have known how close she had been to doing just that? She found it interesting that Damon had stopped smoking while Malcolm hadn’t. Both were strong, good-looking men, but obviously Damon had some inner resolve that Malcolm lacked. Why couldn’t Malcolm be stronger? Did it really matter? Malcolm was a good man, and he would be a great father.

She was too happy with her life to dwell on the subject for long. Her hand fell from the keyboard to her flat stomach. “Hello, little one,” she said aloud, then laughed at the silliness of it.

* * * * *

Karissa arrived home later in the day, still smiling but feeling uneasy about not being able to reach Malcolm by telephone. The urge to tell him the good news about the baby burned inside her. As she exited her truck, she heard a car door slam in front of the house and someone call out, “Wait, Karissa!”

She turned to see Delinda Goodrich hurrying up the walk and into the open garage. Her daughter June came behind more slowly, holding the hand of a little boy about Camille’s age. His red hair was an even brighter orange-red than June’s. “How lucky you’re home,” Delinda said, puffing slightly at the exertion.

Luck, Karissa knew, had little to do with it. Delinda was nothing, if not persistent. “I’m just getting home from work,” she said with a touch of coldness.

“Oh, good. Then you can sit in on our lesson with Brionney. We’re so glad to catch you both at home.”

“Brionney knows you’re coming?”

Delinda drew herself up to her full height, still a head shorter than Karissa. “Yes, she does.”

“We brought her something,” June said, holding up a brown-wrapped rectangular package. Her pale eyes watered, but she didn’t look away.

Karissa relaxed and turned back toward the kitchen door to hide her smile. “And who’s this little boy?”

“That’s my youngest, Germ,” Delinda said, following her into the house.

“You call him Germ?”

“It’s not his real name, but he won’t answer to any other.” Delinda shrugged, and her gold necklace caught the dim light in the kitchen, coming from the windows overlooking the greenhouse. “You gotta let them be themselves.”

Before Karissa could reply, Savannah, Camille, and Rosalie raced into the garage, followed closely by Malcolm. “You’re finally here!” exclaimed Rosalie. “We been waiting all day!”

“Come on,” Savannah urged, her pale face flushing with excitement. Camille said nothing but danced from one foot to the other. She grabbed Karissa’s hand and pulled.

“What’s going on?” Karissa asked Malcolm. “I’ve been calling you, but there’s been no answer. I was worried.”

He smiled so she could see all his teeth, a row of stark white in his tanned face. “I’ve been working. I left the cell phone in the studio.”

“I saw the doctor today,” she said. The girls abruptly grew quiet, sensing the seriousness of the situation.

“And?”

Karissa glanced at the crowd around her. “Excuse us a minute?”

“No problem,” Delinda replied. “Where’s Brionney?”

Malcolm smiled. “She’s in the greenhouse. Girls, will you show her the way?” Karissa opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again when Malcolm grabbed her hand.

“Well?” he asked when they were gone.

“Everything’s going great. So far, it looks as though we’re having this baby.”

“Yes!” He jumped into the air. “I knew it!” He kissed her, and this time he tasted different, not as acrid as usual. A few moments passed until she realized that his breath was devoid of the customary smoke residue, and also of the mints he normally used to cover the smell.

“Why don’t you go into the greenhouse for your lesson?” Malcolm said suddenly. “Brionney wanted me to stick one of her casseroles in the oven.”

Karissa sighed. “I guess I’d better make sure Germ isn’t destroying the plants.”

“Germ?” he asked.

“It’s a long story.”

She wandered down the hall to the laundry room and through the door the girls had left open. What she saw made her stop and stare, her mouth falling open.

“Do you like it?” Malcolm came from behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

In the sandbox was the largest set of play tubes she’d ever seen. It went up and over and down, and had dozens of nooks with Plexiglas windows where the children could wave down to them. Rosalie had her face pressed up against one of these, making her nose resemble a baby pig’s snout. At the bottom end of one of the tubes, just outside the large circle of sand, there was a cage filled with hundreds of tiny balls. Germ was inside, laughing and throwing them about wildly. Overhead, Camille and Savannah swung back and forth in a huge round ball that vaguely resembled a spaceship. Rosalie pulled her face from the window and crawled up the adjoining flexi-tube to meet them.

“Jesse and I are putting up the swings now,” Malcolm said, propelling her forward. “They go over the right side of the sandbox under that tube—see the empty space? Oh, yeah . . . we couldn’t get the ball cage to fit inside the sandbox so we had to put it on the walkway outside—it was just the right size. Well, we did have to move a few of your plants to get it to fit, but we replanted them over on the other side. Camille watered them.” He turned her around and held her close. “You do love it, don’t you, Karissa? I had it especially designed after your first positive test. I paid extra to get it here so quickly. You’re not mad about the plants, are you? Why don’t you say something?”

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but it wouldn’t go down. She wasn’t mad about the play tubes being erected in the sandbox; she had designed the greenhouse with that very thing in mind. Nor was she upset about them moving the plants or not telling her what they’d planned, though that had been her first inclination. What she did feel was an overwhelming love for Malcolm at his thoughtfulness and his excitement at the possibility of their children one day playing here. “I love it,” she managed finally.

He hugged her joyfully. “Oh, Karissa,” he whispered in her ear, “we’re going to fill this place with children, just as we always planned.”

They walked farther into the greenhouse. “So did the tests come back?” Brionney asked eagerly, turning from her conversation with Delinda. One hand rested on her growing stomach.

Karissa nodded. “The baby seems to be doing fine.”

“A baby! Oh, landsakes! I’m so happy for ya.” Delinda hugged Karissa. “Having a baby, why that’s exciting! They’re hard work, but fun.”

Karissa looked at the children and smiled, pushing back her hair.

Delinda continued, “Pretty soon you’ll be getting the Mormon Mommy Haircut—”

“The what?”

“The Mormon Mommy Haircut,” Delinda replied, and Karissa heard the capitalization in her voice. The visiting teacher ran her hands through her short auburn locks. Her dangling earrings each held a shiny blue sapphire. “That’s when ya finally give up your long hair. Usually somewhere around the fourth child.”

Brionney nodded, touching the white-blonde locks whose ends barely brushed her shoulders. “I used to have even longer hair. And I’m going to cut it all off when the twins are born. It’s in the way, especially with having a baby around.”

“That’s why I call it the Mormon Mommy Haircut. Once it’s short, you’ll never go back to long.”

Karissa laughed. “Then I make a vow never to give in.”

“Oh, it’s not giving in. It’s just going with the flow instead of swimming upstream.” Delinda rubbed her blunt hands, looking back and forth between Malcolm and Karissa. “Landsakes, a baby! Pretty soon you’ll be staying awake half the night and playing the I-can-clean-that-diaper-in-so-many-wipes game. Yes, sir, good times are just around the corner.” From her voice, Karissa couldn’t tell if she was serious or teasing.

“I don’t play that game,” Jesse said, coming up behind them.“Brionney would win every time.”

“To him, all diapers are at least six-wipe diapers,” Brionney explained dryly. “You should see him piling them up in his hand so he doesn’t get anything on him. We go through more wipes that way.”

Jesse shuddered. “Six wipes is about right. It keeps my fingernails clean.”

Delinda chuckled, enjoying every minute of the exchange. “With twins there’ll be plenty of diapers to go around.” Her brown eyes focused on Karissa. “But the haircut and the wipe game are only the beginning. Before long, you’ll be rolling up your breasts like socks and sticking them in your bra—I read that somewhere, and boy, is it true!”

Brionney looked embarrassed, but she nodded in agreement. Malcolm and Jesse suddenly became intensely interested in finishing the swing set.

“What about the casserole?” Karissa called after them.

Brionney started for the door. “I’ll put it in.”

“All this reminds me of our lesson this month,” Delinda said.

I’ll bet, Karissa thought as Brionney paused in her flight. Delinda was a master at weaving the lesson into any conversation.

“We have something for ya,” June said, handing the package to Brionney with a shy smile. Despite her lack of friendship with the visiting teachers, Karissa felt odd at seeing that smile. June had never smiled at her. Not ever.

Brionney put her arm around the girl. “Thank you so much! I can’t wait to see what it is.”

Karissa already knew.

She followed the women slowly out of the greenhouse, glancing once more over her shoulder at the play equipment. Malcolm had stopped working and was watching her, an enigmatic smile on his full lips. His gray eyes were softer than she had ever seen them.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

Would he if he knew her secret? The happiness Karissa experienced all day dissipated like heat in a strong breeze. Now she felt as though she walked a tightrope in a circus tent, and one false move would send her and their relationship, built as it was on falsehood, crashing to the hard dirt floor. Once it hadn’t mattered, but now it did because she knew she loved him. She waved at Malcolm and turned quickly, hoping he wouldn’t see her fear.

That night, the dream came as it hadn’t since she had quit smoking. The baby Karissa carried in her arms hit her head on the door frame and looked at her sadly. “Why? Why?” she asked. “I would have made you whole.” Then she died.

“No! It’s just a dream!” Karissa screamed. “I didn’t hit your head.”

But the baby didn’t hear.