The medicine dripping from an IV bag puts me in a lala haze. When I fully regain consciousness thirty-six hours later, I’m in a private hospital room. Vases of flowers line the windowsill, and a bouquet of balloons is tied to the arm of a lounge chair. Mom and Stacy are standing at the foot of the bed, whispering. I hear other voices too, Calvin’s and Dr. Reid’s, coming from outside the open door in the hallway.
My hand finds my belly, and I’m relieved to feel the bump that is my baby. I clear my throat. “Is the baby okay?”
Stacy and Mom move closer to the head of the bed. Mom leans over and kisses my cheek. “Welcome back, sweetheart.”
Stacy strokes my arm. “Your baby is fine.”
My eyes flutter shut. “Thank God,” I say with a sigh. “What happened?”
“Your blood pressure shot dangerously high. Given the circumstances, Debra . . . Dr. Reid decided it best to sedate you.”
I open my eyes wide. “Won’t the meds harm the baby?”
“Not the ones she used.”
Dr. Reid and Calvin enter the room and approach the side of the bed opposite Mom and Stacy. An eerie feeling overcomes me. I feel as though I’m on my deathbed, surrounded by my loved ones. I want out of this bed and this hospital.
I lock eyes with the doctor. “Stacy says the baby is fine. Can I go home?”
The doctor holds up a finger. “On one condition. Stacy stays with you.”
“But Stacy has to work,” I argue.
Stacy shakes her head. “Not at the moment. I’m in between jobs. I don’t start with my new practice for another two weeks.”
“Fine.” I look over at Calvin. His expression is grim and he’s unusually quiet. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Calvin glances at the doctor who nods her head. “We have some news. Dr. Reid is worried how it will affect you.”
Dr. Reid says, “I want you to hear it now, while you’re still in my care.”
My eyes dart about, landing on each of them in turn. “What is it, already?”
“The senator is dead,” Calvin blurts. “He was strangled to death in prison. Apparently, he had a lot of enemies.”
The song “Ding Dong! The Witch is Dead” comes to mind. “I won’t have a meltdown, if that’s what you’re worried about,” I say to my doctor. “The senator hurt a lot of people. He deserved what he got. Now, when can I go home?”
The doctor laughs. “As soon as I sign the release papers. Today is Wednesday. I want you to finish out the work week on bed rest. If you have no more bleeding, you can resume your normal life this weekend.” She opens her iPad and makes a note of the reading on the blood pressure monitor behind my head. “Stress affects people in different ways, Jolie. You were lucky this time. Don’t push the envelope.”
Mom and Calvin insist on pampering me. Since there’s nothing I can do about it, I let them fuss. Stacy and Mom become fast friends. They talk in the living room for hours, which keeps them off my back so I can focus on my podcasts. Calvin returns my electronic devices, and I spend an afternoon going through emails, texts, and voice messages. My social media followers request more information about the senator, and I plot my next podcast to include a lengthy interview with Albert Campbell. He played a major role in breaking the case, and he deserves some of the glory. My nationwide law enforcement network continues to grow, along with my list of potential interviewees.
I’m surprised, and oddly relieved, when I don’t hear from Drew. On Monday morning, Dr. Reid clears me to return to work. When I leave headquarters on Tuesday afternoon, I drive over to Carrigan’s. Through the window, I spot Drew flirting with a pretty blonde customer. I was once in this customer’s seat. I recognize the twinkle in his blue eyes. He’s love struck. And I’m happy for him. We had chemistry. But we grew apart before we ever had a chance to come together.
Mom signs a year lease on the one-bedroom apartment on the floor below me. At the end of October, when she returns to Vermont to organize her move, Calvin insists on staying with me. He’s scarcely let me out of his sight since my near miscarriage. He won’t admit it, but I can tell he’s worried about the potential for additional fallout from the senator’s case. I don’t argue. I’m enjoying his company more and more.
After work on Friday night of the first week in November, he takes me out for an early dinner at Shagbark, an upscale American food restaurant located in Libbie Mill Midtown. We’re seated at a window table for two, sharing an appetizer of pan-roasted mussels, when Calvin says, “What say we get married? You’re having my baby. We should be a family.”
His proposal doesn’t surprise me. I’ve sensed it coming for some time. He wants to get married for some of the right reasons. Just not for all the right reasons. He failed to mention his feelings for me. Or lack thereof. His shady past is hard to ignore. Then again, I have my share of skeletons in the closet. My fondness for him continues to grow. If I let myself, I could easily fall head over heels in love with him. But I already have one failed marriage under my belt. And only a few months ago, I thought I was in love with Drew. I need to be certain of my feelings for Calvin.
“I’m not ready for a commitment, Calvin. After everything that’s happened this year, I need time for myself. And time to spend with my mom. We’re just getting to know each other again.”
He appears wounded. “You don’t trust me.”
I stare down at my plate. “That’s part of it. You have quite the reputation. There are few women in the department you haven’t slept with. I’m not a fan of open marriages. Our friendship is solid. At least we’re getting there. We can raise this baby together, as mother and father, without getting married.”
“Despite what you might think of me, I’m not a fan of open marriages either. I—”
The waiter interrupts him when he arrives with our entrees—maple-brined pork chop for him and grilled salmon for me.
“What were you about to say?” I ask, once the waiter has gone.
“I’m turning over a new leaf. I haven’t slept with anyone since Brenda. And believe me, many women have tried.”
“See!” I stab my finger at him. “Those many women are what I’m talking about. You’re staying away from those women now, because you think you’re ready to get married and have a family. What happens after we’ve been married a few years and you grow tired of me? What’s going to stop you from sleeping with them then?”
He cuts a bite of pork chop and stuffs it into his mouth. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this to you, but sleeping around always made me feel dirty.” He shakes his head, as though disgusted with himself. “Listen to me. I sound like a woman. But it’s true. I was looking for fulfillment. Instead, every sexual encounter I had with a random stranger dealt a blow to my self-respect. I’ve felt better about myself these past few weeks than I have since before Alyssa died. And that’s because of you.”
His words touch me deeply. I can relate. I know how it feels to be on a seemingly endless quest for fulfillment. I understand the desire that can never be satisfied. The need that comes from deep within and has nothing to do with sex. That need has lessened now that I’ve reunited with my mother. Now that I understand why she made certain choices. Now that I’ve forgiven her for abandoning us.
Reaching across the table, I rest my hand on his. “Let’s see where these next few months take us. We have plenty to focus on getting ready for the baby.”
“And once the baby comes, will you consider my proposal?”
“I’ll consider it. As long as you’re still interested.”
Calvin invites Mom and me to have Thanksgiving with his extended family of aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. They’re a boisterous crowd, and they welcome Mom and me with open arms as though we’re old friends. They want to know all about the baby. Most feel the need to rub my belly. They’re disappointed Calvin and I are not having a gender revealing party.
“I truly don’t care what the gender is,” I say. “As long as the baby is healthy.”
His mother, a tiny woman with Calvin’s dark complexion and amber eyes, leans in close to me. “I like your way of thinking.”
They serve dinner at one o’clock. Despite being Italian, the smorgasbord of dishes presented on the sideboard are traditional American Thanksgiving fare. Calvin and I are assigned to eat in the kitchen with the younger generation while Mom joins the grown-ups at the main table in the formal dining room.
Once the dishes are done, the family divides up for a flag football game in the front yard. Mom plays on Calvin’s team, and she even scores a touchdown. Afterward, we migrate to the family room by the fire and watch hours of football on television. Around six o’clock, Calvin’s mom brings out the leftovers for another round of grazing. Finally, at nine o’clock, Calvin informs me it’s time to go.
His mother pulls me aside. “You’re a lovely girl, Jolie. Don’t break my son’s heart.”
I smile down at her. “I’m not worried about his heart. I’m worried about mine.”
She gives my arm a squeeze. “I know his reputation for being a lady’s man. But that’s not who he is deep down. For years, I worried he would never get over his sister’s death. His pain will always be a part of him, but because of you and the baby, he is finally moving on with his life.”
“Thank you for saying that. It means more than you know. Regardless of what happens between us, this child will bind us together forever.”
On Christmas Eve, Calvin presents me with an engagement ring—a round diamond set between triangular sapphires in an old-fashioned filigree setting. It takes my breath and brings tears to my eyes.
We’re alone in the condo. Mom had been here earlier for dinner—an oven roasted beef tenderloin, twice-baked potatoes, and a Caesar salad—and although we begged her to stay and watch reruns of Christmas classics, she insisted she needed to get home because she had a few more presents to wrap. But I think she has a boyfriend. She’s been practically giddy these past few weeks. I trust she’ll tell me about him when she’s ready.
Calvin and I are standing beside the Fraser fir Christmas tree that graces the corner, its tiny white lights reflected in the window. I admire the beautifully wrapped gifts, most of which are courtesy of Mom, piled high at the base.
When I’d told her she went overboard with her shopping, she said, “I have a lot of years to make up for.”
My mind wanders as I stand by Calvin patiently holding the box. Jason has been at the forefront of my mind this holiday season. I see him everywhere. In his collection of Christmas ornaments. In cartons of eggnog at the grocery store. In the tacky lights on Monument Avenue. Mom and I went to Hollywood Cemetery last weekend and placed a small cedar wreath on his niche. I still haven’t accepted he’s gone.
The sound of Calvin clearing his throat brings me back to the present. I smile and look into his eyes as I take the engagement ring out of the box and try it on my finger. It’s a perfect fit. “It’s lovely, Calvin.”
“It belonged to my great grandmother. We can change the setting if you don’t like it.” He drops to his knees. “Will you marry me, Jolie? You’re already the mother of my child. Will you be my wife as well?”
I pull him to his feet. “We agreed not to discuss this until after the baby comes.”
He flashes his devilish grin. “Things are going so well between us, I was hoping you’d reconsider.”
I’m tempted to say yes. I can no longer deny my feelings. I’m crazy in love with Calvin. But that love is mixed with a fear of failure. I refuse to make this next move until I’m absolutely certain. “I agree things are going well. So why not wait a little longer?”
“But if we get married before the baby comes, we’ll be a legitimate family.”
I turn my back to him, staring through the window into the dark night. “Why are you suddenly so eager to get married?”
I sense his presence behind me, and I see his reflection in the window, but he doesn’t touch me. “So we can be a family. Don’t you want that too, Jolie?”
“More than anything. But our marriage needs to be about me and you, not the baby.”
Calvin turns me toward him. He tilts his head to the side. I think he’s going to kiss me. I hold my breath. I’ve been waiting for this for so long. I dream of his touch on my skin, his lips on mine. But the man whore has become a monk. Is it because I’m pregnant? Does he find me fat and ugly? Or maybe he’s worried he’ll hurt the baby.
He kisses the tip of his finger and touches my nose. “Merry Christmas, Jolie. This time next year, we’ll be playing Santa for our child. If I have my way about it, we’ll be married and living in our own house.”
“Here.” I hold the ring box out to him, but he refuses to take it.
“You hold on to it. I plan to keep asking you to marry me. Maybe the ring will inspire you to say yes.”
And ask he does. Dozens of times during the ensuing months. But he doesn’t say the three magic words I desperately need to hear.
Meanwhile, Mom falls head over heels with a handsome doctor who practices with a Concierge Medical Group. Doug Dehart—I call him Dr. Dear Heart—lost his wife to cancer several years ago. They are always together, and I see her less and less. But I’m beyond thrilled for her. She has finally found the true love she deserves.
At the beginning of March, Calvin and I begin preparing the nursery. We clear the furniture out of Jason’s room and paint the walls a creamy white. Stacy and Mom host a coed shower for me at Stacy’s adorable new house on Maple Street. We receive baby gadgets galore from Calvin’s friends, and gender-neutral clothes and towels and blankets from the women.
We take our stash home and set it all up in the nursery. We have everything we need except a crib. I have my heart set on a distressed white crib with clean lines that converts into a toddler bed. The back-ordered crib finally arrives five days before my due date.
Calvin and I spend Saturday afternoon assembling the bed. We’re almost finished when a wave of exhaustion overcomes me. “I need to lie down. Do you mind finishing up here?”
Concern crosses his face. “Are you okay?” He’s been doting on me since my weekly doctor’s appointment when we learned my cervix is dilating.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
I go to my room and stretch out on the bed with a throw blanket covering my swollen belly. A line of thunderstorms is moving through the area, and the sound of driving rain against the window lulls me to sleep.
A feeling of intense pressure against my pelvis wakes me an hour later. When I stand up, water gushes from between my legs. I call out, “Calvin! Come quick! My water just broke.”
Seconds later, he appears in the doorway. “I’ll get you some dry clothes. Then we should call the doctor.”
An excruciating pain rips through my abdomen, and I scream out in pain. “I need to push!”
Moving to the dresser, Calvin opens and closes drawers. “No, you don’t, Jolie. This is your first baby. We have hours before it’s time to push.”
I double over as another contraction tears my body apart. “I’m not kidding, Calvin. This baby is coming right now!”
He whips his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll call a rescue squad.”
I drop to my knees on the floor. “There’s no time. I need to push. I feel the baby’s head.”
“Let me check you.” He helps me lie on my back and yanks off my sodden underwear. With knees bent, I spread my legs wide. “Yep. Baby’s crowning.”
Another pain, another scream. “What’re we gonna do?”
“We’re gonna deliver the baby.” Calvin gets to his feet. “I’ll be right back.”
I writhe around on the floor in agony as one contraction after another racks my body. Calvin returns with an armful of supplies. He props bed pillows behind my head, peels back my dress, and places one of the baby’s waterproof pads under my bottom.
I grip his arm in terror. “Have you ever delivered a baby before?”
“A few. I was an EMT in high school and college. A surprising number of babies are born in ambulances.”
“That was a long time ago.” I tighten my grip on his arm. “Call Mom and Dr. Dear Heart.”
“They’ve gone to Charlottesville for the day, remember?”
I groan in response.
“I’ve got this, Jolie. This is my baby. I won’t let you down.”
For the next few minutes, he coaches me while I push. Calvin’s voice is calm and reassuring, and when the baby makes its appearance into the world, he catches it with a clean towel. Seconds later, the baby’s cries fill the room.
I fall back against the pillows, panting. Through the space between my legs, I watch Calvin wiping the baby with a towel. His face is full of tender love. He clamps and cuts the umbilical cord, expertly swaddles the baby in a towel, and hands the bundle to me.
“Meet your son.”
I take the baby in my arms and look down at his pinched little face. “He’s beautiful.”
“I need to deliver the placenta, Jolie. Give me another big push.”
I grimace as I bear down one last time. Something wet slides between my legs. Calvin gathers the bloody towels and leaves the room. While he’s gone, I examine my child, starting with his ten fingers and toes. He has golden fuzz on his head, the cutest button nose, and rosy lips.
When I look up again, Calvin is standing in the doorway watching us. “An ambulance will be here soon.” He comes over and kneels down beside us. “You’re amazing, Jolie. I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you right now.”
“Will you repeat that, please?”
He appears confused. “Which part.”
I cross my eyes at him. “You know. The part about you loving me.”
Leaning in, he presses his lips against mine. His breath is warm when he whispers, “I love you. Why does that surprise you? I’ve proposed to you too many times to count.”
“And I would’ve accepted your proposal sooner if you’d said those three magic words.”
He falls back on his butt. “You’re joking. You mean all this time . . .” His face lights up as though he’s suddenly struck with a thought. “So that’s what you meant at Christmas when you said our marriage needs to be about me and you, not the baby.”
Nodding, I look down at our son. “I want to be more to you than your baby’s mother.”
He wraps his arms around the baby and me. “You’re everything to me, Jolie. I thought you knew that.”
“But you never touched me, not one kiss in all these months.”
“And you do not know how many cold showers I’ve taken during that time. I was proving myself to you.” He touches his finger to the end of my nose. “I’m marrying you for you. Not for sex. That’s not to say I won’t be thrilled when the doctor clears you for intimacy.”
I wince. “I just delivered a baby. I can’t bear the thought of having sex right now.”
He reaches on top of the nightstand where I keep the velvet ring box. He opens the box and takes out the ring. “I love you. I love you. I love you. Will you marry me?”
I hold out my left hand. “Damn straight,” I say, and he slips the ring on my finger. “I love you too, Calvin Ingram.”
“Let me hold him,” Calvin says, taking the baby from me. “What’re we going to name him?”
We’ve tossed around names for boys and girls, but we agreed to meet the baby before deciding. “What about Calvin? Don’t you want a junior?”
“Not really.” He clucks his tongue softly at the baby. “He looks like a Jason to me. What about Jason Hogan Ingram?”
I burst into tears. “Do you mean it, really?”
“I mean it. After all, when God closes a door, he opens a window.”
Thank you for reading On My Terms! If you enjoyed this novel, please consider reading my Hope Springs series. Join the unforgettable cast of characters at the historic inn for romance, family drama, and adventure.
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