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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
* * * Alan pushed his glasses higher on his nose, frowning when he encountered me bulky piece of masking tape that held the broken bridge of his frames together. He sank lower in die upholstered seat of me nearly empty movie theater and smirked at me corny previews. Witii a sigh he glanced at the vacantseat next to him and imagined Pam sitting mere, munching popcorn and giggling like a teenager.It was funny how much his perception of her had changed in the last few days. She was still me sexy bombshell who made him a little nervous, but now...now he had glimpsed the warm, funny, smart woman who lurked beneath me showy facade. Sure, her showy side inflamed his baser needs, but it was her squeal of laughter when they'd ridden me Wave Runner and her shining face when he'd filled me moat of her sand castle that stayed with him every waking minute.The ear-numbing, teeth-jarring, bone-melting, mind-blowing sex was simply a bonus.He smiled a slow, lazy grin. The sex was a big, fat cherry on top of a sundae more delectable than any he could have imagined as a kid. Which presented an interesting paradox, he noted as the main feature bounced onto the screen. If Pamela Kaminski was such a catch, what was keeping him from pursuing her with gusto?He imagined Pam counting off the reasons on her brightly colored fingernails. "Because my friendship with your ex-fiancee means more to me than any relationship we could ever have, Alan. Because I have dozens of men waiting for my return, Alan. And most important, because you're not the kind of guy I'd settle for, Alan."The flick started, a splashy good-guys bad-guys film with several gorgeous women and just enough one-liners to make it amusing. But his mind wandered from the movie plot to Pamela so often, he lost track of which double agent crossed which federal bureau so when the movie credits rolled, he wasn't quite sure what had happened or who had gotten the girl. But he had the sinking feeling it wouldn't be him.He sat through another matinee he couldn't follow, at the end of which he had to admit that for the first time in his thirty-odd years, he was completely consumed with, distracted by and besotted over a woman. A woman who was beyond his reach.When he walked outside, he squinted into the light, even though dusk was already falling. Oh well, he thought as he joined the mingling crowd on the sidewalk, things would be different when they got back to Savannah. He would return to his demanding job running his consulting business, and she would return to the frantic pace of real-estate sales, along with her bottomless pool of boyfriends. They would probably see each other occasionally at charity functions. He would wave and she would smile, and no one would ever know they had made passionate love in a gaudy room in Fort Myers on Valentine's Day.Determined to stay away from the beachfront area to avoid running into Robin, Alan strolled along the retail district, browsing in music and electronics stores. He wandered by a jewelry-store window and stopped when he spotted a gold sand-castle pendant. He desperately wanted to give Pam something to remember him by, and the pendant seemed to call him. He walked inside and left fifteen minutes later with the pendant and a matching gold chain. He wasn't sure "when or if he'd give it to her, but for now, buying the pendant seemed like the right thing to do.He bought a couple of CD's by local artists, then stopped at a sports bar and ordered a sandwich and a beer. The ponytailed bartender who served him found a Georgia State basketball game on one of the many TV screens and made small talk while he washed glass mugs.The barkeep wore a tight T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off to show his many tattoos to their best advantage. Alan tried not to stare, but he must have failed because the guy quirked a bushy eyebrow and asked, ' 'You ever had a tattoo?''Alan shook his head and pointed to one on the man's arm, squinting. ' 'Is that an ad?''"Yep—best tattoo parlor in town is just down the street. I get a discount for wearing the ad.""Human billboards," Alan acknowledged with a tip of his bottle. "Now there's an untapped industry." He figured he must be getting a buzz because the idea of someone selling their skin to advertisers, inch by inch, actually sounded plausible. In which case, Pam's body would be worth a fortune, he noted dryly, wondering how much her cleavage would command on the open market. Location, location, location. The bartender leaned on the bar and asked, "Hey, man, are you busy later tonight?"Alan frowned and deepened his voice. "You're barking up the wrong tree, fella.""Huh?" The bartender pulled back, then scoffed. "Nah, man, my girlfriend's swinging by and bringing a friend with her. You like redheads?""Sure, but—""Great! Her name's Pru.""Thanks anyway, but I'm really not—""Saaaaaaaaay." Something past Alan's shoulder had obviously claimed the man's attention. "I could go for some of that," the bartender whispered in a husky voice.Alan turned on his stool to see Pamela walking toward the bar wearing an outfit of walking shorts and sleeveless sweater that would have been unremarkable on ninety-nine percent of the female population. She seemed intent on finding something in her purse and hadn't spotted him yet. If Alan had been quick—and motivated—he could have thrown some cash on the bar and left. But his reflexes were a little delayed, he conceded, and the sheer pleasure of seeing her after spending the day apart disintegrated his thoughts of leaving.When she looked up, she did a double take and stopped midstride, then approached him with a wary expression on her face. "Small world," he offered along with a smile. He patted the stool next to him. "Have a seat—I'll buy you a beer."She leaned one firm hip. against the stool and gestured vaguely. "Thanks anyway—I actually came in to find a pay phone. My cell-phone battery died in the middle of a conversation with Mrs. Wingate.""Is she ready to*buy the Sheridan house?""Not yet—she's got a priest over there now consecrating the flower beds.""Don't let me keep you.""That's all right," she said with a wave. "She probably took getting cut off as some kind of omen and might not come to the phone anyway." Pam glanced at the bartender. "Nice artwork," she said, nodding toward his colorful arms.Wearing a wolfish grin, the man flexed his biceps and leaned toward Pam. "Thanks."Jealousy barbed through Alan and he glared at the beefy man. "Pam, what did you do all day?"She told him about her day of sight-seeing. "There are some beautiful homes here and over on Sanibel Island," she declared. "The real-estate market seems to be very strong—lots of money to be made."He bit the inside of his cheek as a disturbing thought struck him. "You're not thinking about moving?""Not here," she said. "Even though I like it. I always thought Atlanta would be nice—I have lots of friends there."So she had lovers all over the state, he mused. "Atlanta's a fun city."She nodded and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear—the ear in which he'd murmured unmentionables only last night "As long as my mother is alive, I guess I'll stay in Savannah.""I can't imagine the state my mother will be in by the time I return," Alan said with a wry grin."She liked Jo, didn't she?"He nodded and peeled off the curling corner of the label on his beer bottle. "She thought Jo would make an excellent wife and hostess, an asset to my career.""She doesn't want grandchildren?""My sister has two kids, and my mother thinks that's plenty enough people in this world to call her Granny."Pam giggled. "Mom doesn't have grandkids—that we know of. Gf course, knowing my brothers, who knows how many Kaminskis could be running around."Alan laughed and tipped his bottle for another drink. Every family, rich or poor, had its dysfunction. "Have you had dinner?""I'm not really very hungry," she said, dropping her gaze again. "Thanks anyway. I'm tired—I think I'll get back to the hotel and turn in early."Their eyes met and the reason behind her fatigue hung in the air between them. Alan gripped the bottle hard to keep from reaching for her. "Ah, come on," he said. "Why don't you stay for a beer—what's one beer between friends?"The corners of her uneven mouth turned up slowly, then she relented with a nod. "Okay, one beer." * * * Alan started awake, then winced at the sour taste in his mouth. But the movement of his facial musclessent an explosion of pain to his temples and he groaned aloud, which sounded like a gong in his ears. He closed his eyes and waited until most of the pain and noise subsided before attempting to put two thoughts together.He was in the hotel room, and he could hear Pam's snore beside him, so it appeared they had slept in the same bed. Straining, he remembered they had consumed large quantities of beer and had left the sports bar, but that's when his memory failed him. Had they gone directly back to the room? And then what?He opened his eyes one at a time in the early-morning light and gingerly reached up to adjust his broken glasses, which were somehow still on his face. He moved his head to see the reflection in the ceiling. Another gonging groan escaped him when he saw they were indeed naked and intimately entwined.Not again.Pam lay on her stomach and the sheet had fallen down to expose the rub-on rose tattoo on her tanned hip. When his scrutiny triggered inappropriate responses beneath his half of the sheet, he pulled himself up a millimeter at a time and stumbled to the bathroom in search of a glass of water.His hip ached from the unaccustomed lusty exercise, and he rubbed it as he downed the water. But at the sharp tenderness of his skin, he turned to glance in the mirror and smiled dryly. He must have been blitzed because he'd allowed Pam to rub one of her fake tattoos on his hip. A wet washcloth and a little soap would take care of it, he figured. Except when he scrubbed at the tattoo, the pain increased and the stubborn design refused to budge. "I must be allergic to the dye," he muttered, and scrubbed harder. But minutes later when he lifted the cloth and saw the tattoo still had not faded, terror twisted his stomach."No," he said frantically. "It can't be real!"He backed up to the mirror for a better look, but he couldn't make out the tattoo. Letters of some kind? It was backward in the reflection, so he snatched up Pam's hand mirror and positioned it to read the reflected word. His eyes widened and his hands started to shake.''Paaaaaaaaaaaaaammmm!''Pamela jerked awake, unable to pinpoint the origin of the invasion into her peaceful sleep. She swallowed painfully and lifted her head. The sound of breaking glass from the bathroom made her sit up. "Alan," she called, holding her head. ''Are you okay?''The door swung open and he emerged naked, his face puckered and red. "No, I am not okay. In fact, I'm about as far from okay as I've ever been!"Pam rubbed her tender hip and grimaced. "Don't make me play twenty questions, Alan. It hurts to talk.""You!" he bellowed, shaking his finger at her. "You talked me into it!"She sighed. "Did we do it again?""Yes!" he roared. "But that's not what I'm talking about."Her frustration peaked. "Then what are you talking about?""This!" he yelled, then turned around and pointed to his bare hip.She leaned forward and squinted. "A tattoo? You got a tattoo?" Laughter erupted from the back of her throat. "You got a tattoo!" Then she stood, twisted to look at her own hip and squealed in delight. "No—we both got tattoos! A rose! Isn't it great?" She strode over to him and glanced down. "What does yours say?" Then she stopped and stumbled backward at the sight of the name etched on Alan's skin, enclosed in a red heart. "P-Pam's?" She covered her mouth with both hands and lifted her gaze to his. * * * "There are all kinds of new laser procedures to remove tattoos," she assured him as they moved down the path toward the beach. Alan walked woodenly beside her, occasionally stabbing at his taped glasses."But I think we're skirting the bigger issue here," she continued, trotting to keep up with him, even though he was limping slightly,.favoring his tender hip. "What happened last night absolutely cannot happen again.""I agree," he said curtly, staring straight ahead."We've only got one more day and one more night, so we should be able to stay sober and keep our hands to ourselves.""Right.""Let's try to enjoy the time we have left," she said amiably as they stepped onto the warm white sand.He stopped and turned to her. "How about 'Let's just try to make it through tomorrow with as few calamities as possible'?"Pam swallowed and smiled weakly.. "That's fine, too."They rented chaise lounges and Pam couldn't help noticing that Alan waited until she had hers situated, then planted his several feet away. "Safety precaution," he said flatly, then snapped open the newspaper he'd brought to read.Frowning, Pam turned to her own reading material and tried to blot the disturbing thoughts of Alan from her mind. She had missed him yesterday, and the realization had shaken her badly. So when she'd stumbled across him in the sports bar, she had allowed herself to be persuaded to stay for a drink because she simply wanted to spend time with him. And although the rest of the night remained fuzzy, some incidents she recalled rather clearly.Such as the fact that she had been the one who suggested they get tattoos, inspired, possibly, by the bartender's impressive collection. And Alan had been hesitant, but she had dragged him down the street, and sent him into one booth while she entered another one for her design of choice. Where he'd gotten "Pam's" was less clear to her, and the fact that they'd made whoopee again last night only added to the confusion.Her heart lay heavy in her chest and she tried to convince herself that things would be better once they returned to Savannah. For one thing, she would rarely see him, if at all, since their connection to each other— Jo—no longer existed. It was for the best, she knew, because she didn't want to be running into him at every turn...didn't want to be reminded of the few days they were together when names, backgrounds and at-risk relationships were irrelevant and all that mattered was the powerful sexual chemistry between them."Hello."Pam looked up and smothered a cringe when she saw Enrico standing over her chair, his lips curved into a sultry smile. Resplendent in orange nut-huggers, the man nodded toward Alan who was still hidden behind a newspaper. "I see your man is neglecting you once again." He wagged his eyebrows. "Perhaps I can remedy that situation."Annoyed, Pam began rummaging in her bag. "I doubt it.""Could I interest you in a walk up the beach?"She jammed on her sunglasses. "No.""How about a drink?"She lay her head back. "No."He leaned close to her and the stench of alcohol rolled off his breath. "You like to tease, no?""No," Alan said behind him.Pam lifted her head and looked up at Alan who stood with his paper under his arm, glaring at Enrico. How like a man to ignore a woman until someone else comes sniffing around. She smiled tightly. "I can handle this, Alan."His gaze darted to her, then he lifted his hands in retreat and reclaimed his chair.But Enrico folded his arms and followed him back to his chair. "She is not worth fighting for, señor?""That is enough," Pam declared, sitting up. "I think you'd better leave, Enrico."Enrico stood over Alan, taking advantage of the situation. "She is too much woman for you, eh?"Pam's patience snapped and she scrambled to her feet. "Leave, Enrico!"He sneered and jerked a thumb toward Alan, who had risen to his feet. "Perhaps your man is weak?" Just as he lunged for Alan, Pam launched herself at the man with an angry growl, climbing his hairy back. She propelled him into Alan and they all went down in the sand. Once the breath returned to her lungs, Pam pummeled the man's back.Sand flew as they rolled around, scrambling for leverage. Alan splayed his hand over Enrico's face and pushed him back, trying to avoid the man's swinging arms. Pam yelped, clawing the grit out of her eyes while showering Enrico with the blinding stuff. Alan rolled behind the man and grabbed him in a choke-hold. The man grabbed handfuls of sand and threw them in the air.Somewhere in the background she heard a voice yell for the police. Incensed, she wanted to land one good jab while Alan held him. Pam made a fist, drew back and threw the hardest punch she could through the swirling sand, eliciting a dull groan when she made contact with skin and bone.She stepped back to blink her eyes clear. But when she massaged her throbbing knuckles in satisfaction, she saw Enrico several yards down the beach, jogging away, and he appeared unfazed by Pam's right hook.When she glanced back to the site of the scuffle, her stomach twisted. Alan sat in the sand, glaring at her, holding his hand over his right eye.Whatever apology she might have conjured up was cut short by the arrival of a uniformed officer. "Hello." the cop said, standing over Alan with a tight smile. "Again." * * * "Well, look on the bright side," Pam said as she led the way to the double-parked limo the following morning. Numb from another night in jail and a head full of contradicting thoughts, Alan gingerly touched his swollen right eye and asked, "And that would be?""We didn't have sex last night," she said brightly.Which would have been the only redeeming event of the past twenty-four hours, Alan thought miserably."And we're leaving today," she sang, obviously anxious to return home. "I checked us out of the hotel—Twiggy said goodbye. I bought a suitcase and packed your things—they're in the car."He stopped and stared at two new dents and the Kaminiskiesque parking job that left only two tires of the pimpmobile on the street, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he opened the back door of the limo and climbed in, banging the door closed behind him."You're letting me drive to the airport?" Pam yelled from the driver's seat after she buzzed down the divider panel.Alan clicked his seat belt into place, pulled the strap tight and laid his head back. "Your definition of driving is a loose interpretation, but I'm too drained to argue.""Okay," she said excitedly, revving the engine. "I'm starved—do you mind if we stop and get something to eat on the way? We've got plenty of time before the flight.""Go for it," he said, removing his broken glasses so he couldn't witness the driving event.Of course, he hadn't anticipated she would attempt to take the limo through a drive-through window—they were stuck in a tight curve by a squawking monitor for forty-five minutes. No longer surprised by any stunt she pulled, Alan ordered an ice-cream sandwich to hold against his puffy eye and munched a hamburger in the back seat during the melee. When the scraping sounds became too unbearable, he turned up the TV and watched a rerun of "Laugh-In" until she finally eased the car by the metal posts and the high curbs.She buzzed down the panel when they were on the expressway again. "We still have over an hour," she yelled cheerfully. "We'll make it."He buzzed up the panel and unwrapped the icecream sandwich.Five minutes later they were at a dead standstill. She buzzed down the panel. "It's a freaking parking lot out here—the radio says there's a tractor-trailer overturned and we won't move for at least an hour. Don't worry— we'll still make it." She smiled, then buzzed up the panel.Alan sighed and picked up the remote control. Then a thought struck him and he buzzed down the panel. "Hey, Kaminski?"She twisted in her seat. "Yeah?""Have you ever gotten naked in a limo?"Her smile was slow in coming, but broad and mischievous. "No.""Want to?"In answer, she buzzed up the panel. Alan sighed again and laid his head back. "Can't blame a guy for asking," he muttered. Especially since she'd go back to her stud stable once they returned to Savannah.Suddenly the door opened and she bounded inside, toppling over him, laughing like a teenager. She straddled him and kissed him hard, then asked, "Do you think an hour is enough time?""We'll have to hit the highlights," he whispered, locking the door."What about the lowlights?" she said, pouting."In the interest of time," he murmured, pulling at her waistband, "I'll have to give them a lick and a promise." * * * Running through the parking lot of the car-rental return, Pam yelled, "That can't ever happen again.""Right," Alan yelled back. "Never."They rushed into the building. Alan forked over an obscene deposit to a pinched-nose man in case his insurance company wouldn't cover the various damages to the limo, then they sprinted through the airport as fast as his still-aching hip would allow. When they dropped into their seats on the plane, he found it unbelievable that only a few days had passed since they'd left Savannah. It seemed like a lifetime ago—not to mention a small fortune ago, he noted wryly.After takeoff, he donned a set of headphones, not to ignore Pam, but hoping to put some perspective on the week before they reached Savannah. Indeed, the more distant the Fort Myers skyline became, the more painfully clear the answers seemed.Instead of trying to dissect the roller coaster of emotions she had evoked in him this week, he simply needed to consider the facts: he had been vulnerable, she had been eager to comfort a friend. Besides, even if the circumstances were ideal—which they weren't— and even if he had the intention of taking a wife— which he didn't—he couldn't imagine any woman more unsuited to marriage than Pamela Kaminski.Thankfully, their flight was uneventful—the little mishap when Pam sent an entire overhead bin of luggage pounding down on two passengers didn't even merit an eye twitch on his new scale of relativity. Rankling him further, she seemed oblivious to his brooding, chatting with the flight attendants and somehow managing to paint her toenails during the flightIt was only when they were landing and he glanced over to see her death grip on the padded arms of her seat that he conceded to himself how extremely fond of her he'd become. Alan reached over to squeeze her hand, and the grateful smile she gave him made his heart lurch crazily. He knew in that moment that even if his eye healed, the tattoo was safely removed, the charges were dropped and his car insurance wasn't canceled, he still might never fully recover from his week with Pamela.She was her usual cheery self through baggage claim and on their way back to her car, reinforcing Alan's suspicion that, for Pam, the week had simply been a casual romp—the woman had no earth-shattering revelations weighing her down. And despite the trouble that seemed to follow her around, he was going to miss her. Perhaps, he decided, after a few weeks had passed and he had shaken this somber, life-evaluating mood, he'd call her, just to see how she was doing.He offered to call a cab, but she insisted on driving him home, saying she needed to check on somenew home listings in his neighborhood, anyway. On the way, she ran two red lights, but stopped trafficon the bypass to let a mother duck and her ducklings cross.When she pulled onto the long driveway, Alan stared at his imposing home and realized with a jolt that only one week ago, he had anticipated returning to carry his bride, Jo Montgomery, across the threshold. Now he felt almost giddy with relief at the change in circumstances. He and Jo would have been content, but not entirely happy. She had never looked at him the way she looked at John Sterling. And he owed it to himself to find a woman he could care about that much."Are you okay?" Pam asked, jarring him out of his reverie."Uh, yeah," he said, realizing she was waiting for him to get out. But when he grasped the handle, she stopped him with a hand on his arm."Alan," she said softly."Yeah," he said, his heart thudding against his chest."I'm sorry.""Sorry?""For breaking your glasses and denting the limo and getting the ticket and having you tattooed and blacking your eye and getting you arrested.""Twice," he amended."Twice," she agreed. »Her blue eyes were wide, and her upside-down mouth trembled. She was so beautiful, she was impossible to resist. He inhaled deeply and gave her a wry smile. "Forget it." Her happy grin wasworth every misery he'd experienced over the week.He opened the door and retrieved the dark suitcase she had purchased and packed for him. When he walked around to the driver's side, his mind racing for something to say, he suddenly remembered the pendant he had bought for her. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said, rooting through his gym bag until he came up with the black box. "For you.""For me?" she asked quietly, taking her lower lip in her teeth. She slowly lifted the lid and stared at thegold sand castle, then ran her finger over the surface. "It's beautiful," she whispered, then raised shining eyes. "But why?"Because I want you to remember me, to remember us. "Because," he said with a shrug, "I wanted to thank you for keeping me company. It was fun," he lied. It wasn't fun—it was surprising, disturbing, stimulating, stressful and amazing, but it wasn't fun."I love it."She pulled the necklace from the box and fastened the clasp around her neck. The pendant disappeared into her cleavage and Alan swallowed hard."Thank you, Alan.""I'll see you..." His voice trailed off because he didn't want to appear as desperately hopeful as he felt."Sometime," she finished for him."Right," he said with a nod."Fine," she said with a nod.Alan watched as she rolled up the window, backed over several hundred dollars' worth of landscaping and pulled onto the road directly in the path of a luxury car whose owner stood on the brake to avoid a collision. Then, with a fluttery wave and a grind of stripped' gears, she was gone.Eleven Pam slapped her jcnee and laughed uprolariously. "That's the best April Fool's gag I've heard today, Dr. Campbell."Eleanor Campbell pursed her lips and steepled her fingers together over her desk. "It's no joke, Pamela. You're pregnant."Shock, alarm and stark terror washed over her. Her throat closed and her fingers went numb. "H-how is that possible?"Dr. Campbell smiled. "Do you want layman's terms or the scientific version?""Whichever will make it less true," Pam whispered. "I take my birth control pills faithfully.""But if you had read the warning brochure for the antibiotics I prescribed for that ear infection a couple of months ago," she said sternly, "you would have known the medication can reduce the effectiveness of birth control pills." She sighed and gave Pam a sad smile. "I take it this is not a happy occasion for you and the father."Pam closed her eyes and swallowed. "When did it happen?""According to the information you gave me regarding your last cycle, I'd guess on or about Valentine's Day."If she didn't open her eyes, she decided, she wouldn't have to face it. Wouldn't have to face the fact that she was living up to the tainted Kaminski name by conceiving an illegitimate child. Wouldn't have to face the fact that life as she knew it was over. Wouldn't have to face the fact that Alan, whom she'd not seen or spoken to since returning to Savannah—and who hated kids—was the father of the baby growing inside her. " * * * "Mr. Parish?" Alan's secretary's voice echoed over the speakerphone.Alan left what had become his favorite post, the high-backed chair by the window, to push a button on his desk panel. "Yes?""I'm sorry, sir. Tickets to the scholarship social are sold out."He cursed under his breath safely out of range of the microphone. "How about the hospital golf benefit?""Sold out.""The lighthouse-preservation dinner?""Gone. The only tickets I could find for this weekend were for the podiatrists' political-action campaign dinner and the bird-watchers' society all-night skate at the roller rink."Alan frowned. Feet or feathers—not much of a choice. "Get me two of each," he said. He dropped into his leather chair, then flipped to Pam's business card in his Rolodex—as if he hadn't memorized it. Hell, he'd dialed it twenty-eight times in the weeks since they'd returned to Savannah, but he'd always hung up before the first ring. Now he had a good excuse. Well, maybe not good—but reasonable.He sighed. Okay, it wasn't even reasonable, but he prayed his ploy didn't come across as desperation... even though it was.After punching in her number, he cleared his voice, fully expecting to have to leave a message on her voice mail, but to his surprise, Pam's voice came on the line. "Hello, this is Pamela. How can I help you?""Uh, hi, Pam. This is Alan...Parish."A few seconds of silence passed. "Hi, Alan. What's up?""Oh, not much," he said, summoning a nervous laugh. "I just called to wish you a happy April Fool's Day."More silence, then, "That's nice."He picked up a pen and started doodling on a pad of paper. "So, how have you been?""Fine, I guess," she said. "How's your eye?""It healed.""And, uh, the other end?""Well," he said, shifting in his seat, "it's a delicate operation—I'm still trying to choose the best doctor.""Jo told me the two of you talked things through.""That's right." Not that there were any unresolved issues in his mind. But he knew it had made Jo feel better to explain why she had canceled their wedding."She seems really happy being a mom," Pam said.He tried to concentrate on what she was saying, but he kept picturing her nude in the limo. "Yeah, can you imagine taking care of three kids?""Um, no, I can't."And her breasts—God, he shuddered just thinking about them. "Just the thought sends chills up my spine.""I remember your view on kids, Alan."Funny, but right now he could legitimately say the most difficult part about having a baby would be sharing his wife—emotionally and physically. Pam was the kind of woman that made a man selfish. Alan shook his head to clear it. Pam, a wife? What was he thinking?"Alan, are you still there?""What? Sure, I'm here." He cleared his throat. "Say, Pam, are you free this weekend to attend a business function?"During her few seconds of hesitation, he died a thousand times. "What kind of business function?"His mind raced—what the devil had Linda said? "Uh, there's a feet convention at the skating rink.""Excuse me?""I mean, a political fund-raiser for birds.""What?"Where was his brain? "Forget business—can we have dinner tonight at the River Plaza Hotel?""Is something wrong, Alan?"She obviously thought the idea of them having a date was so far-fetched there had to be some other compelling reason for them to get together. "I need to talk to you...about Jo," he said, wincing at his choice of subject matter, but it was too late."Jo?" she asked."Yeah," he said, rushing ahead. "I'm having trouble working through some things and I hoped you could help me."The silence stretched on."Pam?" he urged."Sure," she said softly. "What are friends for?"His heart jumped for joy. "Really? I mean—" he swallowed "—that's great. Uh, seven o'clock?""Seven sounds fine."She didn't sound too happy about it, but he didn't care. He just wanted to see her again. Alan's mind raced for another topic to prolong the conversation. "Have you sold the Sheridan house?""Not yet. Mrs. Wingate hired a poltergeist-detection team to spend the night there. We're waiting on the results. Listen, Alan, I really need to run.""Oh, sure," he said, fighting to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "I'll see you tonight." He hung up the phone slowly, trying to be optimistic, but he'd heard the distance in her voice. Alan looked down at the pad of paper he'd been doodling on and stopped, then jammed his fingers through his hair and sighed.He'd drawn the outline of a heart and inside, in slanting letters, he'd written the word Pam's. * * * Pam settled the phone in its cradle and blinked back hot tears. How ironic that after all these weeks, he had chosen today to qall. Today, when she was wrestling with how to break the news to him that he had fathered a child while on a fake honeymoon with his ex-fiancee's best friend.How could she face him? How could she present him with the news of a child he did not want by a woman he did not want? Wouldn't the Parish family be proud. She could hear the whispers now, see the sneers on her brothers' faces.She dropped her head into her hands. How could she face Jo? Since Pam's return, her friend had thanked her profusely for offering Alan a comforting hand during a very trying period in his life. Only it would soon become clear that she had offered Alan more than her hand.How could she face her child? How could she tell her child that he or she was conceived in lust by a father who had just been jilted and by a mother whose dreams were too outlandish to be realized?And how could she face herself? She had been careless with her heart, and careless with her body. She had known Alan was in love with her best friend. He'd used her to get over the hurt, and she had let him. She had let him on the slimmest hope that the man who represented everything she wanted in a partner—security, integrity, heritage and nobility--would recognize in her what no man had ever seenand fall in love with her.Perhaps she had loved him ever since he'd hauled her off Mary Jane Cunningham's back in high school. He had taken up for her, but she'd given him a shin-shiner because she didn't know how else to react to someone in his social class. She couldn't very well act as though she liked him.Since that day, she had found it easier to make fun of him rather than admit he had something she envied. And when their paths had crossed again as adults, she had simply picked up where she'd left off. Only in the wee hours of the morning when she was alone with her thoughts and fears and dreams had she been honest with herself. Only then had she admitted that Alan was the man she wanted but knew she'd never have, so she'd filled her dance card with has-beens and wannabes and never-would-bes.Just like Alan had filled his dance card with her in the wake of Jo's rejection.She shoved her hands into her hair. Now what? Pam wiped her eyes and pulled her address book from a desk drawer. After dialing an Atlanta extension, she sniffed mightily, feeling better just at the anticipation of hearing the voice of a dear old friend. Someone with a little objective distance. Someone she could trust to set her straight. Someone with big, broad, undemanding shoulders."Hello?""Manny? It's Pamela.""Well, hello, baby doll!" He clucked. "You'd better have a good excuse why I haven't heard from you lately."She smiled at the laughter in his voice. "Would you settle for a good excuse for calling now?" As much as she tried to maintain control, she could not keep her voice from breaking on the last word."What's wrong?" he asked, immediately serious. "Oh, God, it's a man, isn't it?" He sighed dramatically. "The straight ones all seem programmed to seek and destroy.""I need to get away for a few days," she whispered."I'll alert the pedestrians of Atlanta that you're on your way." * * * Alan checked his watch for the twentieth time. Where was she? Pam was only a few minutes late, but after he'd talked to her, the rest of the afternoon had crawled. He was impatient to see her, to talk to her. He drummed on the surface of the hotel bar, feeling ready to come out of his skin with anticipation. The bartender slid a shot of whiskey across the bar and he downed it, hoping it would give him the courage he needed.He loved her. It sounded ridiculous and she'd probably laugh in his face, but he didn't care. The week in Fort Myers, although admittedly fraught with disaster, had given him a taste of her spice for life, and he had become addicted. Every day since returning home, he had told himself the restlessness would pass, that they had simply been caught up in the romance of a beach fling. But he finally had to admit to himself that he wanted Pamela, that he needed Pamela in his life.And he refused to share her with other men—he wanted a commitment. Marriage seemed a bit ludicrous considering he had been standing at the altar with another woman just a few weeks ago. Besides, Pam had made it perfectly clear that she wasn't looking to become anyone's wife. But he hoped she would at least move in with him, a public declaration that they were a couple. Then perhaps someday they would both be ready for marriage...and a family.Alan stopped and shook his head. He still had to get through tonight—he'd worry about the heavy stuff later. His imminent concern was the risk of her choking from laughing too hard. In his mind he reviewed the Heimlich maneuver, then checked his watch again. She was worth waiting for. * * * Around eight O'clock Pam found a parking place a half block from Manny's apartment building. Her back ached and her feet were swollen from the five-hour drive, an omen of the months to come, she knew. She'd cried off her makeup by the time she'd reached Macon, but Manny wouldn't mind. City sounds greeted her when she opened the door and lifted herself out of the car. Little Five Points was one of her favorite areas in Atlanta, and ablaze with crimson, pink and white azaleas, it was certainlyone of the prettiest this time of year.She rolled her shoulders and stretched her legs, then grabbed her bag. Although it was only a short walk to Manny's building, followed by a brief flight of stairs, her feet felt as though they were made of concrete by the time she arrived at her friend's apartment. He swung open the door before she'd finished knocking and swept her into a huge hug.When he set her on her feet, he chucked her lightly under the chin. "Pam, one of these days you simply must begin to age."Pam smiled at the tall, fair-haired man she'd met at a club several years ago. They'd hit it off and had maintained contact over the years, visiting at every chance. Manny Oliver was a confirmed homosexual and a world-class good guy. Pam looked at his dancing eyes and sighed. "Manny, if you ever decide to jump ship, I want to be the first to know.''"Darling, you and Ellie would be the only women in my lifeboat.""How is Ellie?" Pam asked, referring to his former roommate."Disgustingly happy," he said, rolling his eyes. "Married less than a year and she and Mark are already expecting a baby." He shuddered. "I ask you—what woman could possibly endure those hideous maternity fashions?"Pam pursed her lips and dropped her gaze. ''Got any dos and don'ts for me?""Oh, no," he murmured, sinking into a chair. "Not you, too."She nodded, her eyes welling with tears.He simply opened his arms and shooed her inside, then rocked her through another crying jag. Only after she'd blown her nose twice and gotten over the hiccups did he question her."Who is the proud papa?""His name is Alan Parish.""Does he know?"She shook her head."Are you going to tell him?"Pam nodded." Tell me this guy is husband material."She laughed dryly. "He had a wedding in February:""Pam," he chided. "Even I don't mess around with married men.""No, he was marrying my best friend, but she called off the wedding at the last minute.""Ah. And you picked up the pieces?""Something like that. But I don't think he's ready to make another trip to the altar." She laughed softly, then added, "Not with me anyway.""How do you think he will react to the news?"She bit her bottom lip to stem another flood of tears. "He hates kids."Manny frowned. "Well, if that's the ease, he should keep his pants zipped.""It's my fault—my pills failed.""That's a moot point. Now you have to make plans for this baby. Are you going to keep it or give it up for adoption?""I'm keeping it""And can you expect any help from this Parish guy?" "I'm not sure."Manny squinted and angled his head. ''Pam, is there something you're not telling me?""I'm in love with him.""The plot thickens. And his feelings for you?""Zilch.""Not true—he got naked with you, didn't he?""Okay, I suppose he's physically attracted to me.""It's a start.""But he's still in love with my best friend.""He told you this?""No, but he hasn't called since we were together— until today when be asked me to meet so we could talk about his feelings for her.""Sounds like a jerk to me.""Oh, no—he's really a great guy. In fact, one of the reasons I admire him so much is that he was so committed to my friend.""If the man doesn't scoop you up and count his blessings, he's obtuse," Manny insisted."He's a little uptight," Pam admitted, smiling fondly. "But when he lets go, he can be very endearing."Manny handed her a cup of tea and lifted one eyebrow. "And good in bed, I certainly hope."She nodded miserably.He sighed. "Promise me you won't wear stripes in the last trimester."* * * Alan struggled to keep his voice calm. "But you don't understand," he explained to the receptionist at Pam's office. "I have left voice-mail messages. I've left fourteen voice-mail messages.""Perhaps her cellular phone—""She's not answering. Pam was supposed to meet me last night and she didn't show. I'm worried about her."The receptionist didn't seem particularly sympathetic that he'd been stood up. "Sir, all I can tell you is that Ms. Kaminski said she'd be out of the office for a few days. I can give you her pager number—""I called her pager number—she's not answering!""Then I'll transfer you to her voice mail.""Wait—" he yelled, but he heard a click and Pam's voice message, which he'd now memorized. Alan slammed down the phone and cursed. He reared back and kicked his desk as hard as he could, bellowing when the pain shot up his leg."Mr. Parish," Linda said, sticking her head through his doorway. "Are you okay?"Alan inhaled deeply. "I'm fine, Linda." Then he limped to his valet and yanked on his jacket. "Cancel my appointments for the rest of the afternoon." * * * Pamela lived in a neat little town house in an artsy part of town—Alan suspected she'd made a good investment, considering her line of work. He had been there only twice to pick her up for some event they had attended together, but he hadn't gone inside. The tiny driveway was vacant, and the shades were drawn. The outside light glowed weakly in the bright mid-morning sun, as if to fool someone into thinking she was home.He walked up the steps and retrieved her untouched morning paper, then knocked on her front door several times before going around to the back and doing the same. After ten minutes, Alan climbed back into his car and pounded his steering wheel in frustration. "Pam, where are you?" he shoutedinto the cab of his car. " Where are you?" He laid his head back and exhaled, then straightened and turned the key. Within minutes, he was heading toward Jo Montgomery's office, not sure what he was going to tell her, but absolutely certain that he had to find Pam.As luck would have it, Jo was in a deep embrace with her new husband, John Sterling, when Alan knocked and stuck his head through her open doorway. They quickly parted, although John kept a possessive arm around Jo's waist while she straightened her clothing."Alan," she gasped. "What a nice surprise.""We didn't hear you come in," John said with a tight smile."I wonder why," Alan said dryly. "Jo, could I have a word with you?""Of course," she said quickly, then glanced at her husband, who wore a wary frown."It's about Pam," Alan informed him impatiently."Jo, I'll see you at home," John said, dropping a quick kiss on her mouth. He nodded curtly to Alan as he left."Do you want some coffee?" Jo asked politely.Alan shook his head. "I'm looking for Pam and I thought you might know where she is."Jo averted her gaze and relief swept through him. Jo knew, which meant at least Pam was okay."Did you leave her a voice message?" she asked."Sure did.""Maybe she hasn't had a chance to return calls.""Where is she?""Alan—""I have to see her, Jo. It's important.""She asked me not to tell anyone—""Jo, there's something you should know."Jo frowned. "Alan, what's wrong?"He exhaled noisily, suddenly unsure of himself. "Something happened when Pam and I were in Fort Myers.""Alan, I don't think this is any of my—""I fell in love with her."Her eyes widened slightly, and a slow smile climbed her face. "What?""I fell in love with her." He raised his hands in the air. "Jo, I swear to you on everything I hold sacred that nothing ever went on between us when you and I were together." He pursed his lips and gritted his teeth before continuing. "But when we were in Fort Myers, I saw Pam in a new light. She's warm and funny and smart—" He broke off and shrugged helplessly. "She makes me happy, Jo, and when I'm with her, I understand what you must feel when you're with John."Jo's eyes were full of unshed tears. "Alan, nothing would make me happier than to see the two of you together.""I have to find her, Jo, and tell her how I feel. Even if she doesn't love me, I can't go another day with this on my heart."She smiled, displaying a dimple. "How about five hours?""Five hours?""She's in Atlanta, staying with a friend for a few days."Alan frowned. "A male friend?"She nodded, and hurt stabbed him hard in the chest. He laughed softly and shook his head. "What's the point if she's with another man?"Jo walked over to him and touched his arm. "It's a good thing John didn't let that stop him," she said quietly. "For both our sakes."Twelve After a morning of, hugging the toilet, Pam napped away the afternoon, then dragged herself toward the tub. A shower, she'd discovered, was a heartbroken, pregnant woman's solace because there she could cry freely and it didn't matter.Not that she didn't cry everywhere else anyway. Throughout the day, Manny pampered her with cool cloths for her forehead, warm cloths for her neck, pillows for her feet, pillows for her back, the latest magazines and nice, bland food when her stomach could stand it. She felt lumpy and frumpy in oneof Manny's old sweat suits, but being enveloped in his big, masculine clothes gave her comfort.When dusk began to fall, he dragged a cushiony chair out onto the fire escape and planted her there while he brushed her hair. The spring breeze was unusually balmy, inspiring Pam to inhale great lungfuls Of fresh air. A zillion stars glittered overhead, triggering memories of the night she and Alan strolled along the moonlit beach and the passion that had swept them away.Well, actually, Alan had been swept away to jail, but that night had been an awakening for her, and she would never forget it. She toyed with the sand-castle pendant that hung around her neck, where it had been since the day they'd returned to Savannah."Maybe I need a change of scenery," she said, sipping the cup of peppermint tea Manny had prepared for her."You're welcome to this apartment," he offered. "But in a couple of months you'll have to find another roommate."She twisted in her chair. "You're moving?""To San Francisco, in June.""Why didn't you say something?" Pam demanded."Darlin', you've got enough on your mind." He clucked. "I was planning to send you a change-of-address card.""What's in San Francisco?""A career path," he said flatly. "On New Year's I took a glimpse into my future, and believe me, there's nothing pretty about a senior-citizen drag-queen performer."Pam laughed—Manny hadn't yet seen his fortieth birthday and was an exceptionally handsome guy. "What will you do?"He bowed. "Concierge at the Chandelier House, at your service, madam.""Manny, that's wonderful—you'll be a big hit!" Then she made a face. "I'll miss you though.""You and the bebe will have to come out for a visit.""We will," she declared, grinning at him in the mirror. .Manny cocked his ear toward the apartment and held up a finger. "I think I heard a knock, I'll be right back."Pam sank deeper into the seat and wrapped her hands over her stomach. Imagine, she thought with a little smile, Alan's baby growing inside me. And although she wasn't foolish enough to believe raising a child on her own would be easy, she would do what she had done all her life—make the best of her circumstances. This child would be loved, if by no one else, then by her."Pam," Manny said from the doorway, "you have a visitor."She jerked her head around in surprise, then gasped when she saw Alan standing in the living room, his suit jacket over his shoulder and his face grim. To see him after so many weeks was a shock to her senses, and she couldn't fathom why he was here. Standing on wobbly legs, she stepped into the doorway, aware that Manny hovered an arm's length behind her. * * * Alan straightened when Pam stepped into view. His heart slammed against his chest painfully. Shelooked beautiful, but different. Softer, perhaps, with no makeup and her hair loose around her shoulders. Wearing her lover's clothes, she looked dewy-eyed and vulnerable. Jealousy ripped through him and he tried not to think about the rumpled covers and pillows on the couch. Seeing their recent sex venue only strengthened his resolve that under no circumstances would he share her with another man."Alan, this is my friend Manny—""We already met, sweetheart," Manny assured her, but his eyes never left Alan.Alan's hands twitched at the casual term of endearment, but he tried to focus on the reason he'd come."Alan," Pam asked, taking another step toward him. "What are you doing here?""Looking for you."Her smile was shaky. "Obviously, but why?"Alan glanced to her tall boyfriend, but the man wasn't about to budge from the room. "Would you excuse us, um, Manny?"The guy poked his tongue into his cheek, then glanced to Pam with raised eyebrows for confirmation. She nodded."I'll be in the bedroom," the man said, glaring at Alan. "Yell if you need me, Pam.""Thanks, Manny."Alan waited until he heard the bedroom door close before speaking, and then he didn't know where, to start. "I waited for you the other night.""Something came up—I should have called.""I was worried.""I'm fine," she said with a nervous laugh. "How did you know where to find me?""Jo."She nodded, lowering her gaze."Look, Pam," he said, stepping closer but maintaining a safe distance. "I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend, but—""He's not my boyfriend. Manny's gay."Relief swept through him. "Really? Hey, that's great—I say a man's got to do what a man's got to do, and if that means marching—""Alan, what do you want?"He mentally went down the list he'd made and left in the car. "I didn't mean to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend—""You said that already," she said, lifting a comer of her mouth. "Don't tell me you've got a script."Panic flooded his vocal cords. "I love you, dammit!"She stood stock-still while he hung out swinging in the breeze, waiting for her answer. Seconds ticked by."Say something," he said."I'm pregnant with your baby."He froze and glanced around the room, absorbing her words, but finding them too unbelievable to comprehend.' "Come again?""I'm pregnant with your baby."Strange, but the words sounded exactly the same the second time. Alan felt his jaw drop, close, then drop again. Intelligent words to combine into an appropriate response had to reside somewhere deep in his brain, but they didn't seem to be forthcoming.She waited.His mind raced. Men became fathers every day— coming up with a reply for the woman he loved couldn't be that hard."Gee," he said with a shaky laugh, then felt the room close in around him. "I think I'm going to pass out." But even though the trip to the floor seemed to be in slow motion, the thump of his head against the wood revived him somewhat.Alan heard Pam scream for Manny, then heard the man tell her to get a pitcher of water from the refrigerator.Manny slapped him lightly on the cheeks, then a stinging blast of ice water hit his face, taking his breath. His temple throbbed with a new pain.His eyes popped open and through his water-speckled lenses, he saw Pam standing over him holding a glass pitcher."Uh—Pam," Manny said. "You could have taken out the ice first." He handed her a chunk as large as a man's fist, tinged with blood. "He might have a concussion.""I'm fine," Alan mumbled. "Help me up."Manny helped him to the couch then gave him a cloth to hold to his bleeding temple. "You're going to have a heck of a goose egg, man."Alan smiled and shrugged, looking at Pam. "It comes with the territory.""I hope your insurance is paid up," Manny muttered on his way out of the room."Sounds like I'm going to need the family plan," Alan said, locking gazes with Pam."Alan—""Why didn't you tell me about the baby?" He clasped her by the upper arms. "I've missed you like crazy these past few weeks, and I was nearly insane wondering what happened to you last night.""When you called, I was trying to decide how to break the news, then you said you wanted to talk about your feelings for Jo—""It was an excuse—I didn't think you'd meet me otherwise." She blinked. "That was dumb.""I was desperate!"Pam winced. "How much does Jo know?""Everything.""Oh no.""And she said she couldn't be happier. In fact, she encouraged me to come after you." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Pamela Kaminski, will you marry me?"Her eyes widened. "M-marry?""You know—you'd be the wife, I'd be the husband.""Wife?" she whispered, then smiled tremulously. "I hadn't planned on ever being anyone's wife." Then she laughed, her eyes filling with tears. "But I hadn't planned on ever being anyone's mother, either."He grinned. "I've noticed lately that life is full of surprises.""Alan, I know you don't like kids—""Unless they're mine," he corrected,"But kids are loud...""So are you.""—and messy...""So are you.""—and the diapers..."He winced. "You got me there.""It won't be easy."Alan curled his fingers around her neck and p'ulled her face close to his. "Is that a yes?"Her eyes were luminous as she studied his face, then she dabbed at the blood on his temple. "That's a yes," she whispered, then added, "The 'P' stands for 'papa.'" * * * The church was somewhat less crowded this time, Alan noticed from his view at the altar. Which was fine with him, as long as the people who mattered were there.His parents sat on the front pew, crying happy tears because Pam had enchanted them as much as she had enchanted him. Pam's mother sat on the opposite side, dabbing her eyes. Her two brothers stood next to him, fingering their tight collars, waiting for Pam to make her entrance. Her older brother, Roy, pointed to Alan's bandaged hand. "What happened?""A little mishap when we tried on rings," Alan explained with a shrug."Sounds like Pam," Roy affirmed with a nod. "You'd better lower your deductible. By the way, where the devil is she?"Alan tried not to betray the nervousness that wallowed in his stomach. "She must be here, or the director wouldn't have let them start the music.""They've played that song so many times, I know it by heart," Roy whispered hoarsely."Maybe she had a sudden case of morning sickness," Alan said, trying to squelch humiliating flashbacks from the last time he stood at the altar."It's two in the afternoon.""Well, you know women's bodies can be...unpredictable."Roy grinned. "Not the word I would have used, but whatever."After another five minutes of "O Promise Me," Alan glanced at Jo, who stood an arm's length away in a simple bridesmaid dress. She chewed on her lower lip and shrugged slightly, then mouthed, "Want me to go check?"Alan sighed, feeling sick to his stomach. If Pam had changed her mind about becoming his wife, he wanted to be the one to know. He walked down the aisle, trying to block out the concerned murmur that swept through the guests, then marched through the back doors of the chapel.His hand shook as he opened the door to the bride's waiting room, and his heart pounded when he saw it was empty. He checked the bathroom, but found it abandoned, as well. With a sinking heart, he realized she must have changed her mind. He gritted his teeth, then laughed bitterly. He was zero for two.His eyes stung with emotion as he walked back toward the chapel once again to tell everyone to go home, but as he walked past the open doors of the church entrance, he heard a familiar beeping horn. He glanced outside in time to see Pam's Volvo jump the curb and come to a screeching halt, mereinches from a stone statue of some important-looking saint.Dressed in full bridal regalia, with a voluminous veil and enormous train, she took quite a while to extricate herself from the car. When she did, she gathered the skirt in her arms, hiking it up to herthighs to run across the churchyard in bare feet. Carrying her shoes in one hand, she waved when she saw him in the doorway. "I'm coming!" she yelled. "I'm coming!""Where have you been?" he demanded when she came to a halt in front of him. God, she was gorgeous, especially with her slightly rounded tummy."Mrs. Wingate paged me," she said breathlessly. "Her head psychic told her she had a one-hour window of safety to buy the Sheridan house." She panted for air. "I was already dressed, and I figured I could leave and get the papers signed before anyone missed me." She smiled happily, her chest heaving. ''Did anyone miss me?"He sighed, wanting to shake her. "You scared me to death—I thought you had changed your mind."She looped her arms around his neck. "Not on your life—you're stuck with me, Mr. Alan P. Parish." She pulled his mouth to hers for a deep kiss.He raised his head, then bent down and lifted her into his arms. "Let's go make you my wife before anything else happens." Then he turned, carried her toward the chapel and whispered, "I have a confession to make.""What?""I told the guy at the tattoo parlor that the 'P' stands for 'Pam's.'"Epilogue Alan raised hii hands. "Pam," he said in a soothing voice. "Put down the nail file.""You!" she yelled at him from the hospital bed. "You did this to me!""Honey," he said, "don't you think it was a combined effort?"He ducked as the vase of flowers flew past his head and crashed against the wall at his back."You're right!" he affirmed hurriedly, raising his arms in surrender. He put on a mournful expression and gestured vaguely toward her huge stomach. "It's all my fault—I did this to you and I am the lowest scum on the face of the earth."Her face contorted with pain and Alan's heart twisted in agony. His beautiful wife was lying in abject misery, and he couldn't even get close enough to the hospital bed to practice the Lamaze they had learned together."Do you have your focus point, sweetie?" he called, inching closer.She lay back, panting, then pinned him with a deadly look. "I'm focusing on a life of celibacy!""Honey, you don't mean that." he said in his most cajoling voice, but stopped when she held up the makeshift dagger. "Celibacy is good," he assured her with a nervous laugh. "We can make it work." Alan retreated the few inches he'd advanced. "How about an ice chip?" he asked."How about I chip your tooth?" she offered, smiling sweetly.The door swung open and Dr. Campbell strode in with a smile. "How're we doing?"Alan, weak with relief to have an ally, smiled broadly. "Just great," he said, then glanced at Pam's murderous expression. "I mean, not very well at all.""Let's see where you are, Pam." To Alan's alarm, the doctor eased Pam's swollen feet and ankles into the stirrups, giving him a bird's-eye view beneath her hospital gown.He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I think I'll wait outside.""Oh no you don't," Pam said, ominously. "You're not going anywhere."Alan nodded obediently and wiped his sweaty hands on his slacks. "Right—wild horses couldn't drag me out of here."The doctor glanced at the monitor. "Here comes another contraction, Pam. Just try to relax.""Remember to breathe, sweetie," Alan called. "Hee-hee—""Shut up!" she shouted."I'm shutting up," he said, nodding vigorously."If the pain's getting to be too much," the doctor said to Pam, "I can go ahead and give you an epidural.""Thanks anyway, Dr. Campbell," Alan said from the wall. "We decided from the beginning to go for natural childbir—""Give me the needle, Dr. C," Pam cut in, "and I'll give it to myself.""Oh my," the doctor said, moving her hands beneath the gown.Alan glanced over, then squeezed his eyes shut, muttering thanks to the heavens for the thousandth time today that he was not a woman."Forget the epidural," the doctor said, depressing the nurse call button with her elbow. "You're ready to start pushing."Alan's eyes popped open. "Already?""Already?" Pam shrieked. "It's been nine hours!"But I'm not ready, I'm not wise enough yet to be a father. Perspiration popped out on his hairline and panic rose in his chest, suffocating him.The nurses rushed in and dressed him in sanitary garb as if he were a kid going out in the snow. He was relegated, happily, to a corner as they prepared Pam for the final stages of labor. Alan had never felt so guilty and helpless in his life. She agonized through two more contractions before the doctor said, "Daddy, you come jump in anytime."Alan glanced to Pam for affirmation, but her eyes were squeezed shut to ward off the pain. Her hands were on the bed railing, so at least her weapon had been confiscated."Pam?" he said weakly, stepping closer. "Sweetie?"She didn't open her eyes, but she lifted a hand toward him, and he went to her side with relief."Alan," she whispered, lolling her head toward him."Yes, dear?""What does the 'P' stand for?""Pam, now doesn't seem like the time—"She twisted a handful of his shirt and pulled him close to her. "I said, what does the 'P' stand for?""Pam, you need to push," Dr. Campbell said. "On the count of three.""Alan—" Pam said through clenched teeth."One—""—what does—" Her face reddened."_two—""— the 'P' stand for?" "—three—push!"Her face contorted in pain and she screamed: Alan, scared half out of his wits, yelled, "Presley! The 'P' stands for 'Presley!'"She grunted, bearing down for several seconds, then relaxed on the pillow and opened her eyes. "Presley?" she panted.He nodded miserably. "My mom was a huge fan."She laughed between gasping for air, readying herself for another push at the doctor's urging. He held her hand tight and whispered loving words in her ear."Here comes the head," said the doctor.She bore down and squeezed his hand until he was sure she'd broken several bones. His heart thrashed in his chest and he looked around to see what he would hit when he passed out."One more push, Pam," the doctor urged.She took a deep breath and screamed loud enough to rattle the windows. Alan held on, wondering if his hearing would return."Here we are," the doctor said triumphantly. "It's a big boy."Relief and elation flooded his chest and he kissed Pam's face, whispering, "It's a boy. It's a boy."Pam, exhausted but beaming, held her hands out to accept the wrinkled, outraged infant Alan's heart filled to bursting as he looked down at his son, whose lusty cries filled the air."Do you have a name?" the doctor asked."Not yet—" he said.''Of course we do,'' Pam said as she raised her moist gaze to her husband. "Our beautiful son's name is Presley."
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