The morning after Christmas, Judy and her husband, Rusty, showed up at Mandi’s place with Starbuck’s coffees.
“Knew your coffee maker would be packed away,” Judy said, handing her a cup. “Don’t worry. Yours is decaf.”
Tears pricked Mandi’s eyes. She would miss this kind lady who’d been like a second mother to her.
Judy shook her head, her hand waving across her face. “Don’t you start,” she scolded.
The tears spilled over, and Mandi was caught in a fierce hug.
And once the car was loaded, she got another one. “Go find your life, darlin.’ I’m sure gonna miss you.”
Mandi nodded. “I’ll miss you, too, Judy. You mean a lot to me.”
Judy sniffled. “You let me know the second you have that baby. And the second you know where you’re gonna be after that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
With one last hug and a wave, Judy disappeared into her car. Mandi locked the door of the apartment, dropped off the key, and headed south.
She’d never been to Austin, but didn’t expect it to be much different from the rest of Texas. The address to the professor’s house was loaded in the GPS, and Hayden and Jill would meet her there to help unpack. As she listened to the wheels of the car hum along on the highway, memories floated through Mandi’s mind. The wheels on the car. She and Paige used to make up their own adaptation of the Wheels on The Bus song when they were in the car. She hummed the tune. The wheels on the car go round and round. The horn on the car goes beep, beep, beep. The wheels on the car can take us far. At that, she stopped humming and let out a low groan. Yeah, they were taking her far all right – farther into Texas. Nothing to sing about there.
She spotted Jill’s red Toyota as soon as she turned onto Chestnut Street. This was a nice neighborhood. Big trees. Pretty yards. At first glance, it seemed quiet and secluded. Maybe a good place to hang out for a few months and rest.
Jill met her in the driveway and introduced her parents, then guided Mandi into the living room. “You sit,” she said, handing Mandi a glass of water. “We’ll unload your car.”
Turned out Hayden and Jill’s dad unloaded the car while Mandi, Jill and Jill’s mother, Candice, sat in the living room and visited. Mandi liked Jill’s parents immediately. They were friendly without being over the top gushy.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Mandi. I am positively stunned by what you’re doing for our family,” Candice said. “It’s such a remarkable thing. Poor Jill and Hayden have tried so long to have a baby. We’d almost given up.”
“I hope you like the house,” Jill said, standing and stepping into the hallway. “The guest room is all set up. Don’t worry about cleaning. The professor has a lady who comes in once a week.”
“Really? That’s great,” Mandi said.
Jill returned with a large basket wrapped in cellophane.
“Oh, my gosh, Jill. What is that?”
“Just a little something to help you get settled.” She glanced at her mother. “It’s from all of us. Go ahead and open it.”
Didn’t look like a little something, Mandi thought, reaching for the bow. “Wow. Thank you so much.” She pulled a card out, but set it aside, figuring it could possibly open a faucet of tears. The basket was full of tea and snacks, a couple of magazines, and lotions. Another envelope was tied with a ribbon.
“Open that one,” Jill said.
Mandi slipped off the ribbon and lifted the unsealed flap. And couldn’t help laughing. Inside was a gift certificate for a full-body massage along with a mani-pedi.
“Wow. This is exactly what I need. Thank you both so much. I can’t wait to use this.”
“You’re welcome,” Candice said.
“The salon is just a couple of blocks away,” Jill added. “It’s fabulous.”
“I’m so excited to be a grandmother,” Candice told Mandi. “I can’t wait to get my hands on that baby. It’s been a long time since we had a baby at our house. I’ve already got a room all set up with a bed and toys. I’m counting on a few sleepovers, of course. And I plan to do my fair share of spoiling.”
Mandi smiled. “I feel a little spoiled myself. But doing it for the baby will be so much fun. What about the rest of the family? Will she have other grandparents? Cousins her age?”
Mandi reached for her glass as Jill bounced out of her chair and headed toward the kitchen. “Everything you need is right here. We went ahead and put a few things in the fridge for you.”
Mandi looked expectantly from Jill to Candice, who’d turned to watch Jill, but neither of them responded to her question. She wondered if they’d had some kind of tragedy or estrangement that kept them from talking about the extended family. She briefly closed her eyes. Best to let that go.
“Okay. Thanks, Jill.” Mandi appreciated their welcome, and tried to keep up a polite front, but she hoped they’d leave soon. After three and a half hours of driving, her eyes burned, and she needed to lie down. She could explore the house later.
“You look kind of pooped, sweetie,” Candice, said, leaning forward to take Mandi’s hand.
“We’ll get going,” Jill said quickly. Walking back into the living room, she picked up her purse. “You take it easy tonight, and we’ll plan on dinner at our place tomorrow. How’s that sound?”
Taken aback by the abrupt departure, Mandi nodded. “Sure. Sounds great.”
**
The following evening, Mandi satisfied several months of curiosity as she parked her car then climbed the steps to the Osland’s home. The brick and clapboard split-level was exactly what she’d envisioned – a nice house in a middle-class neighborhood. The kind of place where a kid could play outside and have plenty of friends close by – where people walked the sidewalks, talked to neighbors, and played basketball in the driveways.
Her heart gave a funny lurch. The baby inside her would have a great home. Without warning, guilt blasted Mandi like shrapnel, taking her breath away. Paige had never had a chance – because Mandi had been too ashamed to move in with her parents. Would Paige be alive today if Mandi hadn’t moved into the trailer park with Aaron? If she’d given her a better place to live, a better start in life? Regret washed over her, and she braced her arm against the door frame for a moment to collect herself.
With supreme effort, Mandi pushed off from the house. She sucked in her breath, and rang the doorbell. Within moments, Jill opened the door and beckoned Mandi inside.
She looked past Jill and surveyed the entryway and adjoining family room. Everything seemed neat and tidy, and tastefully decorated.
“Mandi, you okay?” Jill asked.
Mandi’s glance snapped back to Jill, and she saw the concern in her face. Pull it together, Mandi told herself. She hadn’t told the Oslands much about Paige, and there would be no confiding now. “Sure. I was just thinking this looks like a great place to raise a baby.”
Jill nodded. “I think so, too. And guess what? That baby has a name.” The smile on her face widened to a grin. “Sophia.”
Mandi’s throat constricted, and tears blurred her vision. What in the world was the matter with her? Oh, yeah. She was pregnant. “That’s really pretty, Jill,” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.
Jill squeezed her hand. “Come on in. Dinner’s almost ready. What can I get you to drink?”
“Just water, thanks.” Mandi followed Jill into the kitchen and perched on a barstool, hoping the cool water would help her get her emotions under control.
“I’m dying to show you Sophia’s room, but let’s eat first.”
Yes, Mandi thought. She needed a break before facing another emotional onslaught. And something was teasing her senses.
“Mmmm. Good idea,” Mandi said. “What are we having? It smells delish.”
“Parmesan chicken. Hope you like it.”
Hayden joined them, and after setting the table, the three of them sat down.
Mandi tried to enjoy the food. Everything was quite good, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was trespassing, intruding on the Osland’s personal space. And when she asked about Hayden’s family, she could swear Jill went positively rigid.
Jill shot a curious glance at Hayden, then turned a bright smile on Mandi. “Oh, Sophia will have lots of cousins and aunts and two sets of grandparents. Lots of people in her life,” Jill said in a high-pitched voice. “And they have a day care center at the school, so I’ll be able to check in on her even while I’m at work.”
Sounded like a perfect arrangement. That’s good, Mandi told herself. Everything was working out beautifully. She knew she should be thankful. No, she corrected herself. She was thankful. This is exactly what she’d hoped for.
After dinner, Jill led Mandi down the hallway. And in spite of her bouncing emotions, Mandi grinned when she walked into the room – it was like being whisked into a cotton candy machine. The entire room looked like pink fluff – soft and delicate. She turned to Jill. “You having a little girl or what?”
Jill laughed, and the tension that had settled on them lifted. “I sure hope so.”
Mandi ran her hand across the smooth white wood of the bed railing, while she looked around the room with its mix of pinks and patterns – florals, checks, and polka dots. A cushioned rocking chair sat in one corner, a changing table and shelves along the wall. She could practically smell the baby powder already. She let out a soft sigh. “Wow. This is so awesome, Jill. You did a great job. Sophia is one lucky little girl.”
**
Mandi declined the offer to spend New Year’s Eve with the Oslands. Instead, she armed herself with some magazines, movies and munchies. Those might get her to ten o’clock. Midnight was out of the question. Besides, she was ready to put the old year to rest and wake up to a new one. The sooner, the better.
When her phone rang at nine, Mandi hit the pause button on the television and picked it up. But she let it go to voicemail. Her mother had called a couple of times recently, and every time they talked, Mandi feared she’d blow her cover and say something about the house or her swollen feet.
She could email or send a text later. Besides, her mother probably hadn’t expected her to pick up – she wouldn’t suspect that Mandi was just sitting at home by herself. This wasn’t her usual New Year’s Eve. Last year, she and Brit had worked the night scene. Hit the bars, partying in faceless crowds. They’d toasted to a new year, to moving up the chain of command at work . . . to finding Mr. Right. Mandi drew a shaky breath, and slumped into the chair. She rubbed her temples as memories assaulted her. Oh, God. How far they’d missed the mark.
Mandi had stayed at Brit’s place last year. Northtown always got a little rougher on New Year’s Eve. Last year, some kids had set a fire, presumably from fireworks, and the whole area around Jimmy’s had been littered with beer bottles and trash. Of course, her mother thought she was still there.
When the phone beeped to let her know she had a message, Mandi played it back, and her mother’s voice came over the line.
“Hi, honey,” her mother said in a bright sing-song voice. “Are you out having fun? Celebrating? This is going to be a big new year for you, right? I wish you were here for a toast.”
Oh, boy. What her mother didn’t know.
“Hope you’re having fun. Happy New Year! Call me when you have a minute.”
With mixed emotions, Mandi put the phone down. Guilt clouded her thoughts, but at the same time, hopefulness surged inside. Every day was a step closer to her goal. She was almost there – so close to pulling this off. If only the next two months would pass quickly.
Three weeks later, Mandi pushed herself out of the stuffed chair she’d managed to curl up in to follow the sound of her ringtone. Why was she having so much trouble keeping track of her damned phone? Two moves in two months probably had something to do with it. She woke up hardly knowing where she was sometimes.
Rolling her neck, she snatched the persistent phone from the counter. “Hello?”
“Mandi? It’s Dad.”
Mandi’s chest fluttered. Her father didn’t call. She gripped the phone tighter. “What’s wrong?”
“Mom’s had a heart attack.” His normally confident voice cracked, and Mandi heard his fear.
Mandi’s breath caught in her throat. “Oh, my God. Is she okay?”
“They’re operating. By-pass surgery.”
Surgery. Heart attack. These words did not make sense. Not in terms of her mother. Her mother had always been fit and healthy. She exercised and watched her weight. She was too young and active for this.
“The doctors think she’ll be fine,” her father continued. “But I want you to come. We’ll buy the tickets.”
Thoughts crowded Mandi’s brain as regret hammered her. She’d only managed that one brief email since New Year’s. Of course she had to go. No question. But– Oh, damn. No. That would mean revealing her secret. Mandi groaned inside. That would mean showing up at the hospital seven months pregnant. Damn, damn, damn.
“Don’t say you can’t come.” Her father’s voice turned hard. “You tell the people you work for that you’ll take unpaid days. Or quit. Whatever. You need to be here. Your mother worries about you all the time.”
What was that supposed to mean? Did he think that worrying about her had caused her mother’s heart attack? Was he blaming her?
Mandi knew how her mother did Christmas. No doubt she’d run herself ragged, cooking and decorating and shopping. And, she had to admit, she’d probably stressed because Mandi wasn’t there. She’d heard tears in her mother’s voice on the phone Christmas Day. Her mother had been so hopeful that they’d all be together again in Florida. Had probably built it up in her imagination, then was even more disappointed when it didn’t happen. Mandi couldn’t take the blame for the heart attack, but she knew she was responsible for some heartache. Of course she had to go.
With her father’s credit card information, Mandi made the travel arrangements. Then, pulse pounding, she dialed her brother’s number. She’d have to tell Warren . . .
**
It wasn’t the ideal time to fly, but she was still outside the recommended moratorium. She had no choice. The following day, Mandi scanned the baggage claim area in the Tampa airport for her brother. Warren, six-feet tall and a little on the disheveled side, gave her a wry smile when their eyes met, then hugged her briefly before stepping back to give her a once-over. He shook his head, his gaze on Mandi’s middle.
“Did you spill the beans?”
“No. I didn’t want to do it over the phone. And things were still tense yesterday. Now that Mom’s in recovery, it’ll be better.”
She pulled her sweater closer, and Warren chuckled.
“No use trying to hide it, Sis.”
“What? You don’t think I can pass this off as a little extra weight?”
“Not even close. You check a bag?”
“Yes.” Her ticket was flexible, and she wasn’t sure how long she’d be staying. She’d told the Oslands only a few days, but it depended on her mother’s prognosis.
“Point, and I’ll grab it,” Warren said.
When Mandi’s blue and brown paisley bag appeared, she nodded. “There it is.”
He hoisted the bag up, and they made their way to Warren’s black Chevy SUV in the parking garage. Mandi pushed up the sleeves of her sweater. Tampa was easily twenty degrees warmer than Austin.
“Straight to the hospital, or do you want to stop by our place first?” Warren asked.
“The hospital is fine,” Mandi said. Might as well get it over with. “Do you know if Dad’s there?”
“Yep. Been there the whole time except to go home and shower.”
Mandi glanced at her watch. Three o’clock in the afternoon. Not much chance she’d miss him now.
“Have you already seen Mom today?”
“Yeah. She’s sleeping a lot, but better already. Guess she had some blockage, but with the stent, everything’s working.”
“Thank God.”
Warren pulled the car onto the highway, and Mandi felt his eyes shift toward her.
“So when, exactly, were you planning to tell them?”
“Never.”
“Mandi, come on.”
She pushed her hair back from her face and gazed out the window. “Okay, maybe someday, but after the fact. I really didn’t want to have to explain. The fewer people who know, the better.” They walked through the automatic doors. “Honestly, Warren, I’m not sure they’ll even believe me.”
“What? Why wouldn’t they?”
Mandi rolled her eyes. Her brother had been gone for so much of the drama of Mandi’s first pregnancy. “I have a history, remember?” Mandi said, moving down the hallway toward the elevators. She stopped as her father came striding toward them.
Warren rested a hand lightly on her back and propelled her forward.
Their father stopped a few feet in front of them, his face hardening in disbelief.
“Hey, Dad.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Aw, Christ. We leave you alone for six months and you’re pregnant? Do you not understand the concept of birth control? God, how can–”
Warren intervened. “Dad, wait. Let her explain.”
“Explain?” His lips clamped tight, and Mandi figured he was biting his tongue to keep from making a scene. With hands on his hips, he shook his head. “You can’t go in and see your mother like that.”
Mandi’s lips trembled. Another vote of confidence.
“No way. One look at you, and she’s liable to have another heart attack. Goddamn it,” he ground out. “She wanted to see you.”
“I want to see her, too, Dad.” Mandi blinked back the tears welling in her eyes as her gaze shifted past the atrium to the coffee shop visible on the floor below. “I need something to drink.” She pushed past her father and hurried down the stairway.
With shaking hands, Mandi filled a cup with ice and tea. Warren came up behind her.
“Just breathe, Mandi. Get your drink and let’s talk for a few minutes. I’m sure he’ll let you see Mom after that.”
Mandi wasn’t so sure, but she tossed Warren a grateful smile while she watched her dad run a hand over his face and drop into a chair at a table near the back of the shop.
She took the chair Warren pulled out for her. “How’s Mom doing?” Mandi asked her father.
He studied her a moment, his jaw tense. Mandi could see the vein jumping in his neck. If he wasn’t careful he’d be the next heart attack.
Finally, he nodded. “Good. She should get to go home in a couple of days.”
“Dad, I want to see her. I’ve come all this way. I can wear a sweater into the room, so she doesn’t see right away, then I can explain it to her.”
“What is there to explain, Mandi?” her father asked, weariness in his voice. “You’re not married, but you’ve gotten yourself pregnant again. Who’s the father? That Lane guy we met?”
Mandi bristled, but fought to stay calm, surprised that her dad remembered Lane’s name. In one short meeting, Lane had certainly made an impression on her parents. “You’re right,” she said. “I did get myself pregnant. But here’s the deal. The father is married to the mother. And it’s not me. So, instead of jumping to conclusions based on what you see, why don’t you let me tell you what I’m doing?”
She leaned in and touched his arm, imploring him to give her a chance. “It’s a good thing, Dad. This is one of the best things I’ve ever done.”
He said nothing, but she took his silence as permission to continue.
She took a deep breath and launched into the story. “They’re great people. They’re going to be great parents, and I’m giving them that chance. I have their healthy baby girl growing inside me.”
“Why didn’t you tell us about it before?” her dad asked.
Mandi’s heart sank. She heard the lingering doubt in her father’s voice.
“Why’ve you kept it a secret?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry. It’s almost over. If Mom hadn’t had the heart attack, I could’ve delivered in a couple of months, and it would’ve all been done. It doesn’t affect our family, Dad. It’s not my baby.”
Her father stood up, looking torn. He shoved his hands in his pockets and regarded her.
“God, Dad!” Mandi pushed up from her chair, her voice breaking. “Is it so hard to believe that I could do something good for someone else? Why would I want to get pregnant again? You know I want to go back to California and go to school. I’ll deliver the baby in March, and I’ll start school in the fall.”
Shaking his head, her dad placed his hands on Mandi’s shoulders. “I don’t understand why you always have to be so damned independent.”
“I just do. I don’t want your money. I don’t want you to pave the way and make it easy for me.” She paused a moment, then looked up at him. “But I’d like to have your support. I’d like to know that you believe me and don’t think I’m a total screw up.”
With a heavy sigh, her father pulled her into his arms and rested his chin on top of her head. “Come on, now. I don’t think you’re a screw up.”
It’d probably been three years since Mandi had felt her dad’s arms around her – the day of Paige’s funeral. Hot tears flooded her eyes. She was so tired of explaining herself.
He pulled back, and in an awkward moment said, “We’d better get you up to Mom. Don’t want her to start worrying.”
Mandi moved forward, but her dad put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“Let me go in first. I want to tell her myself, so it’s not a big surprise.”
“Okay.”
Outside her mother’s hospital room, Mandi leaned against the wall, hardly daring to breathe. She heard her parents’ muffled voices, but couldn’t make out any of the conversation. Surely her mother would understand. Mandi swallowed hard. Her mother had been so good with Paige. Maybe there would be another chance someday. Maybe, if Mandi could get back on track, graduate . . . she could have another baby of her own. Someday. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her mother had to be here for that.
Warren stood in the hall with Mandi, but kept silent.
“How are the boys?” Mandi asked to relieve the tension while they waited. “The Christmas picture was adorable. I can’t wait to get my hands on Tucker.” She’d been secretly relieved that her brother and sister-in-law had had another little boy, and not a replacement for Paige.
A slow grin spread across Warren’s face. “They’re great. Tucker’s starting to roll over now. It’s cool.”
A few minutes later, her dad motioned Mandi into the room. She went in, and Warren followed.
“Hey, Mom. How are you feeling?” Mandi moved to the bed, where her mother almost sat upright.
Her mother offered a weak smile, and held out her arms. “Oh, my goodness. Look at you. Come as close as you can without smashing that big belly.”
With a light laugh, Mandi stretched over the bed and hugged her mother. When she pulled back, her mom put her hand on Mandi’s abdomen while her eyes searched Mandi’s face. “You’re having a baby for another couple?”
“Yes. I wanted to. It was so easy for me to have a baby when I shouldn’t have. I want to give that gift to someone else who really deserves it. I think that’ll help me put it all behind me somehow.”
Her mother rested her other hand on Mandi’s arm. “For heaven’s sake, Mandi, you’ve got to let yourself off the hook. Stop blaming yourself. We’ll always miss our sweet little Paige, but you’ve got to move on, honey. I hope you can do that after you have this baby.”
Her parents didn’t know the real story. Didn’t know the depth of her guilt. She’d considered telling them before, and thought about it now. Maybe it would help them understand. On the other hand, it might just open old wounds and agitate her mother. She decided against it. What difference did it make now? She was letting it go. Moving on. Hadn’t she paid for her mistake?