His Best Friend's Baby (8 page)

CHAPTER SEVEN

“W
AIT
.” M
INDY
SHOOK
her head. Hard. “What did you say?”

The doctor, a woman in her forties with a kind face and a brisk manner, repeated, “I’m prescribing bed rest. I don’t think it’s necessary to hospitalize you, but...”

Panic swelled in Mindy’s chest. “I don’t have health insurance.”

“I know. And I truly think we can keep you and the baby healthy without a lengthy hospital stay.
If—
” she held up a hand “—and this is a big
if,
you follow my instructions.”

“What,” Mindy asked carefully, “do you mean by bed rest?”

“You won’t have to stay in bed twenty-four hours a day, but I want you there most of the time.” Dr. Gibbs talked about Mindy resting on her left side to prevent compression of a major blood vessel and therefore improving blood flow, about a medication that would lower her blood pressure, about eliminating as much salt from her diet as she could.

Mindy felt as if she were underwater, seeing someone above the surface moving her mouth, but unable to hear the words. When the doctor’s mouth quit moving, Mindy said, “I don’t understand. I’ve never had high blood pressure. I’m young!”

“I’m afraid we don’t really know the causes of preeclampsia. There may be genetic influences, or there could be a nutritional or hormonal connection. It is most common in a first pregnancy or in a woman who has had multiple pregnancies.”

“You’re sure?”

Her smile was gentle. “Yes. You’ve noticed some of the symptoms yourself. You’ve put on weight suddenly, your ankles are swelling, you’ve been conscious a few times of your vision blurring. What I’m seeing is protein in your urine and blood pressure higher than I like. Your blood pressure should return to normal after delivery. If the baby was more mature, I’d consider inducing labor, but I really think we need to wait a few weeks at least. Now,” her tone became bracing, “I’m referring you for an ultrasound. Here—” she ripped a sheet off a tablet “—is the prescription, which I’d like you to fill immediately.”

Mindy was still struggling to understand things the doctor had said five minutes ago. “This means I can’t work.”

Dr. Gibbs’s voice softened. “I’m afraid not. And, while you can certainly get up to go to the bathroom or shower, you shouldn’t be grocery shopping or doing housework. You’re going to need someone to help you. Do you have family?”

Whatever she said—something about her mother, Mindy thought—seemed to satisfy the doctor, because she was ushered out and found herself standing in the parking lot looking around as if she had no idea what her car looked like.

She had to go home. No. She had to fill the prescription first. The women’s clinic didn’t have a pharmacy.

Mindy looked down at the keys in her hand, wondered how they’d gotten there, then wandered down the row of cars until she saw a bumper sticker that had been affixed to her Saab when she’d bought it. Peas on Earth, it said, and showed a small Earth covered with green peas. The bumper sticker had sold her on the car.

She got in, started it, backed out and then turned onto Rainier as if she knew what she was doing. The grocery store, she decided, with that still logical, collected part of her mind. She could fill the prescription and load up on groceries both. While she could.

Beneath, hysteria welled. She was in a tiny, windowless room, trapped. She searched for a door, but the walls were seamless.

No way out.

Bed rest. How could she just lie in bed for weeks? Her apartment was dank, with mold appearing in corners of the bathroom and in the shower if she didn’t scrub almost daily. She had to houseclean! And grocery shop.

And if she quit her job now, so suddenly, Bud wouldn’t hire her back after the baby was born. The medical costs were already going to be high. If she had to be hospitalized... And even if she didn’t, she had to eat and pay rent and utilities—she’d go insane without cable TV.

She pulled into a slot in front of the grocery store, put the gear shift into park, set the emergency brake and felt a sob shake her.

“Oh,” she whispered. What would she
do?

Prescription. Groceries.
Stick to the plan,
Mindy told herself. She could cry when she got home.

Somehow she managed to smile at the pharmacy technician, then push her cart through the store loading up on double, triple the amounts of everything she usually bought. Halfway through her shopping, she stopped. Salt. Dr. Gibbs had said she had to cut her salt intake. Dismayed, Mindy looked at the pile in her cart.

Discarding most of the ready-made food took longer than picking it out had. It also scared her even more. If she wasn’t supposed to cook, but most of the ready-made stuff was high in sodium, what was she supposed to do?

The doctor had said she would need to have someone to help her. Panic flapped great wings in Mindy’s chest again. She squeezed her eyes shut. No. Finish shopping. She couldn’t break down until she got home.

By the time she carried the groceries down the concrete steps into her basement apartment, her panic had shifted focus. Dr. Gibbs had sounded confident that the baby was fine, but maybe she wasn’t really. She wouldn’t have ordered an ultrasound unless she had doubts, would she?

Mindy put away the groceries, then lay down on her bed, on her left side. And cried.

* * *

“W
OW
, I
’
M
SORRY
,” Selene said. “If Carrie hadn’t already moved in, I’d tell her you needed the room, but I can’t kick her out. She’s already paid the rent for this month and everything.”

“Of course you can’t.” Mindy held the phone to her right ear and stared at the concrete block wall. In the living room, it had been drywalled. Here in the bedroom, it was just painted. If she touched it, she would feel the cold and moisture. “I just remembered Deb was moving out, and I thought if you hadn’t found a new roommate—” She stopped. “Really. That’s okay.”

“But...what will you
do?
”

“I don’t know. Um...call my mom, I guess.”

“I could sleep on the couch,” Selene offered. “You could have my room.”

“Aren’t you still seeing Ty?”

“Sure, but he’d understand,” Selene lied.

Mindy knew he wouldn’t understand at all. She thought Selene’s boyfriend was a jerk. No, more than a jerk: a little creepy. He tried to keep Selene from spending time with her friends. He’d get mad if she wasn’t home when he thought she would be. And, although he still shared a house with some other guys, he was at Selene’s most of the time. If Mindy could have had her own room, one where she could shut the door, maybe she could have lived there. But she couldn’t take Selene’s bed and then live with Ty’s sulking.

“No.” She gave a shaky smile her friend couldn’t see. “I love you, Selene. You’re a good friend. But no. I’ll figure something out. I promise.”

With an almost steady hand, she dialed her mother’s number next.

“Bed rest?” her mother said a minute later. “Are they kidding?”

Mindy told her mother what she remembered about preeclampsia. The fact that her blood pressure was high and that she had to get it down, reduce the swelling in her hands and feet. “I’m really scared,” she admitted, “for the baby’s sake.”

“The doctor wouldn’t have let you go home if she wasn’t sure the baby was fine. You know she’s probably overreacting. And it’s a bit unrealistic to expect you to lie in bed for weeks, isn’t it?”

“I can’t ignore her!”

“I didn’t say you should. You can take naps, can’t you? And lie down while you’re watching TV.”

Mindy closed her eyes. “She told me I shouldn’t even grocery shop. I can’t clean house or cook. Or work.”

There was silence for a moment. “I suppose I could do your grocery shopping once a week. And if you need money...”

Mindy took a deep breath and said words she’d sworn would never even enter her mind, never mind be spoken aloud. “Mom, I think I need to come home to stay. Just for a month or two.”

“Honey, Mark has moved in with me.”

Who was Mark? Then Mindy remembered—the grocery store manager. Her mother’s latest.

“You’re serious about him?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” her mother said breezily. “But his apartment was being turned into a condo, and he didn’t want to buy it. He’s been spending a lot of time over anyway, so it made sense for him to move into the spare bedroom for now.”

“Why don’t you hire your landlady?” her mother suggested, with the pleased tone of someone who’d come up with a perfect idea. “You mentioned that she might babysit for you.”

“That’s because she already takes care of her grandchildren. At their house.”

“Well, why couldn’t she have them come to her house instead? And then she could pop in on you several times a day. I’ll bet if you ask her, she’d consider it.”

Mindy thought of her landlady’s living room, tiny and cluttered with porcelain collectibles. They sat atop the doilies on every table and even marched along the top of the television set, which looked like an anachronism in what might have been a Victorian parlor. Three preschoolers in that living room evoked images of King Kong marauding through Manhattan.

“Or Selene!” her mother added. “Why don’t you suggest that she get a place with you?”

“She has two roommates. And a boyfriend.”

“Or what about Isabel? You two used to giggle in high school about how someday you’d get an apartment together.”

Tears oozed from beneath Mindy’s lashes. “Mom, she doesn’t even live around here anymore.”

“There are all kinds of possibilities you haven’t considered,” her mother scolded. “You know if you get absolutely frantic, I’ll figure something out, but honestly, right now isn’t very convenient. It’s not like you’re eighteen and I
expected
you to bounce home again.”

A huge lump in her throat kept Mindy from whispering,
I am frantic.
I wouldn’t have called you if I weren’t.
But instead she said, “Yeah, okay, Mom.”

“Let me know if you want me to grocery shop for you.”

Mindy pressed End and let the phone drop onto the bed beside her.

She was alone. Completely, utterly, alone.

No, not alone, she thought in panic—responsible for another life. For Dean’s child. And she couldn’t even take care of herself.

* * *

Q
UINN
COULD
JUST
BARELY
SEE
the woman’s face through the grey haze of the closed screen door. The latch had stayed hooked.

“When is the last time you heard from your son?” he asked.

“That boy knows I don’t like the stuff he’s gotten into,” she declared. “He calls sometimes and I say, ‘Are you clean, boy?’ Until he say yes, he’s not welcome in my door and he knows it.”

“Do you remember when you spoke to him last?”

“It was back a while. Three, four weeks. Why you looking for my boy?”

“Right now, just to ask him some questions,” Quinn said. “His fingerprints were on a gun.”

“A gun!” The screen door rattled, and he saw that she’d grasped the frame. “My Marvin?”

“I’m afraid so.” He paused. “Will you let me know if you hear from him? We’ll find him sooner or later. It would look better for him if he came in voluntarily for questioning.” He held out his card. “Here’s my phone number.”

After a long silence, a hand lifted the latch and the screen cracked open just long enough for her to snatch the business card from him.

“I’ll tell him what you said,” she promised, then stepped back and shut the door.

He was inclined to believe she didn’t know where her son was and disapproved of his behavior. He also doubted she’d actually turn him in. A judge might okay a wiretap, but Quinn thought he’d pursue other possibilities first.

Back in his car, he yawned and decided to get a cup of coffee. He’d passed an espresso place half a mile back.

There was a spot open at the curb right in front of the place. He swung in, nodded at a trio of young men loitering one business down, then went in.

Three small tables were crammed into the tiny space. The only other customer, a young guy with a mohawk and an eyebrow ring, briefly lowered
The Stranger,
a counterculture weekly, to see who’d come in. Behind the counter, the barista hadn’t even glanced up. Her tousled blond hair gave Quinn a pang.

Just as he reached the counter, she lifted her head. Shocked, he found himself staring at Mindy. A Mindy who looked very different.

His gaze traveled from her blue eyes and a face that looked puffy down the front of the red apron. It...swelled.

“You’re pregnant,” he said stupidly.

She bit her lip. “Quinn. What are you doing here?”

He let out a ragged sound. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I...” Her eyes welled with tears. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” She’d kept from him the knowledge that Dean would have a son or daughter, and
she didn’t know why?

“That’s a lie.” She clasped her hands together over her belly, the fingers writhing. “You’re so bossy! So...disapproving.”

Quinn shook his head in disbelief. He remembered why he’d been relieved when she’d told him to get lost. He’d forgotten how exasperating she could be. But...she was pregnant. Very pregnant. He calculated quickly.

“Did Dean know?”

Now the tears sparkled on her lashes and she shook her head. Her whisper was thick with those tears. “I hadn’t told him yet. Oh, Quinn! I wish I’d told him. I wish I could go back and do it over again.”

Quinn heard the scrape of chair legs on the tile floor and he turned his head to see the punk with the mohawk tuck
The Stranger
under his arm and saunter out. The bell on the door rang.

“Is anybody else here?”

Mindy sniffed. “No.”

Quinn stalked to the front door, locked it and flipped the Open sign to Closed.

“I can’t close in the middle of the day!”

“You just did.” He turned to face her. “Will you come out from behind there and sit down?”

After a minute she nodded. “I’ll get in trouble.”