An Unexpected Baby (7 page)

Evan dimmed the lights in the room before moving over to the bed and cuddling Emma in his arms.

“I love you so much, baby,” he said whispering in her ears.  His nose rubbed gently on her neck then his soft lips brushed against her neck. Emma shivered with delight inside. Electrical currents coursed through her veins.

“Oooh,” she moaned in her throat. “I love you, too, baby.”

The love-making was incredible and sizzled with passion. She felt closer to Evan more than ever. After several orgasms thanks to the new techniques she’d asked Evan to try from the book, she fell asleep on his chest with a smile. Her ear pressed against his muscular chest listening to the beating of his heart.

She only wished it were three heartbeats in the room right now instead of two.

12.

The following week, Emma gazed around the beautiful eco-friendly high-tech nursery her husband and best friend had spent time building with the help of a few buddies. Evan thought she’d feel much better if she had the nursery built. Well, almost ready. This just caused tears to prickle Emma’s eyes. She sat down on the floor beside the expensive Vetro crib and covered her face with her hands.

“Honey, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy.” Evan’s voice called from the doorway.

Truth was, she should be happy. Ecstatic. But she was devastated because her lie was becoming an unnecessary financial burden. Evan didn’t know if he’d won over the new deal in Dallas yet and there he was spending tons of money on a baby that did not exist. At least not yet. She didn’t have the heart to poke holes in the condom though tempting as it was. And sure enough, every time they made passionate love, Evan insisted on using a condom because he didn’t want to harm a baby inside her—just in case. Even though  it was supposedly safe.

The gentle touch of his soft hand on her shoulders  sent shivers down her spine. Oh, she craved his touch. Evan had been  more and more closer to her after she told him about the pregnancy result being positive. Only it wasn’t.

She was the one who was a positive.

A positive idiot!

She just couldn’t let this go on any further. First there was the documentary that everyone was looking forward to. She’d managed to avoid being filmed so far because of her ill feeling which she told them was her morning sickness and she didn’t want to appear pale on the video. Still, she was happy for her grandfather getting filmed periodically and getting a chance to tell his survival story to give others hope. And recently he’d been spending so much time with his PSW, Lina. They seemed to get on very, very well. She took him on excursions and out to the parks on most days. He rarely stayed indoors. It was so wonderful that he could spend his last days doing what he truly enjoyed.

“Evan,” Emma said in a low voice. “I have something I need to tell you. I should have told you before but I didn’t have the guts to.” Emma’s gaze was fixed on the beautiful acrylic crib that cost a fortune.

“What is it, baby?” Evan said, rubbing his  nose on her neck again. She loved it when he did that. The freshness of his cologne turned her on. He hadn’t shaved in a little while, but she loved his five-o’clock’ bad-boy looking shadow. God, he was gorgeous.

“Evan, I—"

“Evan!” June ran up the stairs interrupting her discussion. “Evan!”

“Yes, June? I’m in the nursery.”

“Evan, the Dan Baker Center called. It’s your dad!”

“What? Is he okay?”

“You need to come quick!”

“Oh, God!” Emma cried out. “I hope he’s okay.”

Evan’s dark sexy eyes grew even darker. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he sprung to his feet. It was as if he knew something was terribly wrong.

“I’m going with you,” Emma said as she ran to grab her coat and handbag.

“No, you stay here, hon.”

“No, I’m going with you, Evan. I need to be by your side.”

Evan leaned in and hugged Emma. “I love you, baby. Always know that.”

“I know. And I love you, too.”

***

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Fletcher,” the nurse with the long black hair said with sorrow in her eyes. “The doctor will speak with you shortly.”

“When did he pass away?” Evan’s voice was trembling. He was crying. His head held down and his hand on his forehead. Emma sat there helpless, holding his shoulder as they both sat at the bedside of his father. His body was covered up in white sheet to the neck. A peaceful smile on his face. He lay stiff and flat on the bed. No signs of life.

When the doctor came in, he explained that old man Fletcher had what was called a PE. Pulmonary Embolism. Basically the culprit of his father’s demise was a blood clot that traveled from somewhere in the body through the blood stream up to the lung and blocked the main artery of the lung or one of the branches of the artery. Sometimes it was termed sudden death because it could happen so fast and nothing could be done about it when it happened. The doctor said that most likely he didn’t feel a thing. Evan had blown it then and asked the doctor how would he know what his dad felt? “Have you ever had a PE yourself?” he had asked the doctor. He later apologized after Emma squeezed his shoulder and rubbed his back trying to calm him.

“He’ll be taken down to the morgue soon. Have you made funeral arrangements?”

“Didn’t know he was going to die today.”

“Sorry, I meant sometimes when loved ones are terminally ill or chronically ill, the family makes arrangements ahead of time, just in case.”

“Honey, I can help you with that.”

“No, it’s okay, baby, you have enough to worry about with our baby.”

“You have a baby?” The doctor sounded surprised.

“We’re expecting,” Evan clarified.

Emma thought she was going to pass out.

If only.  

***

The following week, Evan tried to regain his composure. The funeral was what his old man had always wanted ever since he’d known growing up. He’d always wanted to be cremated and his ashes scattered at sea. That was what he dreamed of. He’d been a sailor during his earlier years after the war. He felt close to the water. That was before he became ill over the years. The funeral service was attended by close friends and family and many spoke of fond memories of old man Fletcher, especially his talk of a Fletcher curse which many dismissed as part of his humor when he was alive.

“Are you going to be okay, hon?” Emma said rubbing Evan’s naked back later that night when they were in bed.

Evan turned around. He gently placed his soft hand on Emma’s belly and leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips. “Just as long as I have you two, I’m fine. Looks like God sometimes takes away to give us something…or someone else in our life. Thank you.”

“For what?” Emma said quietly.

“For this,” he said rubbing her belly. “For giving me a child. For giving me hope and a family of our own.”

Emma swallowed hard.

He’d just lost his father. No way in hell could she let him feel he’d just lost a child he never really had in the first place.

As the months climbed on, life was getting more complicated. Sure, she’d gained a little weight from eating in secret out of her anxiety over not so much carrying a baby as carrying a big fat lie, but Evan was going to be expecting a baby to kick inside her soon by the time she would be sixteen weeks pregnant. What if there was no kick? What would she tell him then?

13.

A month later while on her day off from the office Lucinda called up Dr. Van Horne, OBGYN. She carefully dialed the number that she memorized when she had glanced on Evan’s desk. He had scribbled a note down about his wife’s obstetrician appointment and that she’d be going alone.

“Dr. Van Horne’s office. Can I help you?” A bright cheery receptionist answered the phone.

“Hi, I’m calling to pick up my sister, Emma Wiggins-Fletcher,” she lied to the lady on the phone.

“Oh, um…we don’t have a Wiggins-Fletcher here. You must have dialed the wrong office.”

“Oh? But I dropped her off their last week. This is 4224A-West Shire Boulevard, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.”

Lucinda heard the sound of tapping on a computer keyboard. “Sorry,” the voice continued. “We don’t even have a patient by that name. You must have gotten the wrong office.”

“No, actually, I don’t think so. But thank you for your assistance, ma’am!”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help you.”

“Oh, you just did, honey! You just did.” Lucinda’s mouth drew a wicked grin as she curled the corner of her lip in disgust. She really had Emma now.

14.

“Okay, so as I explained before, we’re filming a series of events in Mr. Wiggins life as well as snippets of interviews to add to his Survivor story. I understand that he’s taking his nap right now. But we can interview you all and add it to the footage later. Any questions?” Kyle, the producer of the Real Survivors documentary asked as he looked around the grand living room of the Fletcher home.

The scenery was perfect with the living area as it almost looked like an art gallery with the expensive art on the walls, the wide open space and the tall ceiling to floor windows inviting in ample sunlight. The few tall plants and the fireplace gave it a nice cosy country feel.

“So when will this documentary be aired?” Evan said as he sat on the chair arm rubbing Emma’s shoulder as she sat down on the seat beside him.

“Well, we’ve already filmed tons of footage of your grandfather-in-law going to the park with Lina, his support worker. He did a lot of talking and reflecting on his battle with cancer which was very touching. We filmed him strolling in his wheelchair. We went to the old house and to the hospital where he spent time at the palliative care center and interviewed the nurses and doctor who cared for him. We’re going to pretty much wrap everything up soon. We just need to get a few interviews here. That’s why I’ve asked you all to come at the same time.  I mean, there was the wedding that he never thought he’d live to see and Emma seems to be a big part of his life.”

“Yes. In fact,” the assistant director chimed in, “the doctors and nurses at the palliative care center said that the wedding did wonders for his condition and gave him a second wind of hope. They see it happen all the time. A little good news can do wonders. Now with news of the pregnancy he seems to be doing so much better.”

Emma felt her stomach give a lurch.

“You okay, Ems,” Gina called out from the corner of the room. She too was invited to lend support since she’d visited Grandpa Wiggins many times when he was supposedly dying at the hospital.

“Yeah, I’m good thanks. Just a little…”
queasy with freaking guilt.
“A little tired.”
Yeah, sick and tired of keeping up with this ginormous lie I’ve told about being pregnant.

God, when am I going to learn to keep my big gob shut? You’d think I would have learned by now. Why didn’t I wait to do a blood test first before telling Evan and the whole world I was pregnant? A home pregnancy test is not one hundred percent accurate. Sheesh! And then there’s my fake appointments with Dr. Van Horne. God help me if Evan calls his office to check up on me behind my back.

Fuck! I really need a drink now!

Heck, I need a miracle
!

***

Lucinda had been to Evan’s home before a long time ago when he held the company barbecue in his massive garden. She drove up the stone driveway noticing many cars there. There was a memo Evan left that he would be unavailable today because he would be filming the big documentary about Emma’s grandfather and the little miracle he’d live to see.

Well, enough was enough. Lucinda couldn’t let Emma trick Evan, her grandfather and the whole world now could she?

Evan will thank her later, after his broken heart has been healed. And then he’d realized that he should have been with Lucinda instead of Emma the whole time. At least Lucinda was honest. Well sort of. Maybe too honest to a fault sometimes.

She’d done a bit of snooping around. Thank goodness she got one of her former detective friends to give her some equipment on loan. She’d listened in on a couple of Emma’s phone calls to her friend Gina. She only got snippets of conversation with all that static but she got enough information to know that Emma was faking pregnancy the whole time. She rolled her eyes. Lucinda would never trap a guy with a fake pregnancy. Not even if she were desperate. Well, okay, there was that one time in college but she was still practically a kid at the time. Eighteen. But this was different. Emma was older and should know better now. Emma’s time was officially over as Miss Con Artist of the Year!

***

“Okay, now, Emma, tell us about the day you told your grandfather he was going to be a great-grandpa,” Kyle questioned Emma as the cameraman turned the light on the camera with the microphone hanging from the top. He began filming.

“Um…well….I’ve never seen him so happy. It was as if a light came over him,” Emma’s eyes began to sting with tears. “It means the world to him to be able to see his family tree extend.”

“So you were glad you were able to give that gift to him while he’s still with you. The news that he was going to be a great-grandfather. His dream come true.”

“Yes,” Emma’s voice trailed off.

The doorbell had rung and Emma heard June’s footsteps as she quickly ran to open it.

“That is very touching,” Kyle continued.

“You must have had fond memories growing up with-”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Lucinda’s intrusive voice cut Kyle off.

Emma noticed Evan’s face reddened.

“Is this important, Lucinda? We’re filming here,” he said sounding more annoyed and angry than caring what she had to say.

“Well, sort of…I know this may not be the best time but, well, I think documentaries should be based on fact and well…Emma hasn’t been quite factual with everyone and I don’t think it’s right.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Evan stood up, as if propelled by an explosive force.