Impulses (65 page)

She shakes her head with contrition. “I’m not her, Hayden. I will never be her. Just because there were similarities between,
her
and how my ways came to pass, because I was attempting to protect myself and salvage pieces of my self-esteem with that barrier…you have to stop thinking that we are one of the same. We’re not. I’m not.”

I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the door to one of the stalls.

Turning her body towards the basins, she places her purse onto the unit and delves into its contents. “I have a photo. Here.”

Observing her apologetic expression, I take hold of the photograph and although I battle with my faltering gaze for a transient moment, as soon as my eyes fall upon the shape formed out of white noise in its own personal bubble, I feel my heart both swell and thaw.

“The doctor said that we’re around ten weeks.”

I am inertly aware of Samantha’s presence and her words, but unable to move, unable to speak a solitary word. Whilst staring utterly mesmerized at the dim shapes inside Samantha’s womb, I am filled with some unfathomable emotion that I have never experienced before. I’m caught unprepared, drowning in information I never contemplated would be relevant this soon.

“When she said that there was a chance that I could be pregnant…” I hear her sigh before she continues. “…I was terrified. I was hoping with every fibre of my being that I wasn’t. But then I saw her on the screen. Oh, Hayden, her heartbeat…”

I abruptly pull my focus from the print in my hands and gape at her. She rests against the counter with her hands locked protectively over her abdomen. “Heartbeat…you saw?”

Crystal eyes glimmer with a maternal pride. Her cheekbones raise and her mouth curves as a wondrous smile caresses her lips and meets her eyes. Nipping her lip, she nods.

“Yes…and it was so strong. It was so quick.”

I glance back down and fill my lungs to capacity.

“Here…” she steps towards me and points her finger against an indistinct, fainter spot on the shape which could be easily discounted. Perplexed, I lift my head; her eyes are wide, dazzling blue, brimming with awe as we marvel at the print. “I know it’s hardly visible, but that’s her heart.”

“Seriously?” I fail to reel in the harsh, dubious manner of the raised octave of my voice.

She nods sincerely and I return my focus onto the print in my possession.

“The due date is July, fourteenth.”

“I’m going to be a Dad?” I whisper disbelieving.

Reaching her hand out to my face, she softly caresses my cheek, forcing me to meet her eyes and imbue in an expression which mirrors that of my own. The cyclone of doubt, distrust, fear and apprehension diminishes. And like the eye of the storm, it’s then that I finally identify the emotion that now rises in my heart…an overpowering need to protect this innocent being that is dependent on us as its parents, and an untainted, unconditional love. I had no idea it was possible to love something that you have never met, so profoundly.

Yet again, she nods sagaciously.

“We are having a baby,” the words travel along my elated snicker.

I pull Samantha into my arms and smother her face with kisses, her forehead, her eyes, her cheeks, until I have trailed my way down to her lips, and kiss my fiancée––the mother of my child––with reverence.

“I am so sorry I doubted you, that I accused you––”

“Shush,” resting her brow against me, she presses her finger to my lips. “I understand. I’m not saying it didn’t hurt…it did. But I understand your apprehension. Now, shall we go back to the celebration?”

I pull my head away from the warmth of hers and scoop her hands in my own. “Maybe it could be a double celebration?” I hint, feeling my eyes glimmer wickedly.

She nods. “I’d like that.”

Hand in hand, I lead Samantha back to the celebration in the reception area. Jessie is instantly at her side, asking if she’s okay. Samantha simply looks at me, her eyes bright, full of our secret knowledge, before glancing back at the lively brunet.

“Yes, Jessie,” she slides her hand from my grasp and embraces her friend while I take a step toward the walnut desk. “I am feeling much better now, thank you.”

Retrieving a glass of champagne, I then recover a pen from behind the desk. Standing immobilized at the end of the counter, I briefly tap the side of the flute with the ballpoint. Movement instantly ceases within the room as I attain every ones attention. For the first time in my life, I feel a little disconcerted and nervous having numerous sets of eyes bore into me.

But I press on passed the butterflies and beam idyllically at the woman in the red dress. I hold out my hand to her and she strolls assuredly to my side. Raising her hand to my lips, I softly kiss the back of her hand and slip my arm around her waist, my thumb rhythmically brushing the bare flesh at the small of her back. I idly envisage stripping her of the material…then I remember the baby.

“I would like to begin by thanking every single person in this room for your hard work and the effort that was composed to making tonight possible. It means a great deal to both Samantha and I––” I peek down at her form. She is already regarding me with positively vibrant eyes, her smile magnetic, and as always, draws my attention down to the plumpness of her lips. “––to have the people closest to us, to celebrate our news,” I conclude.

The room erupts into renderings of “hear, hear,” and “bravo’s.”

“But tonight is a double celebration. I have just been informed, that…” I halt my sentence, suck in a lungful of air, and attempt to repress the broadening, joyful grin that has manipulated each and every facial muscle with vivacity and triumph. “That…um…” dammit, I’m grinning so hard that my mouth refuses to form my words.

“That, I am pregnant,” Samantha exclaims, saving me from my inability to verbalize three simple words.

Victor holds up his glass, bringing an end to yet more renderings. His thick, plastic framed glasses begin to slip down the bridge of his nose; he hastily pushes them back to their rightful position.

“To Hayden, Samantha, and baby Wentworth––may he or she be as healthy, happy, intelligent and beautiful, as his or her parents.” I nod at the elderly man, and raise my glass along with the guests as we toast our family.

With long strides, Victor approaches. He shakes my hand, and pats me on the back. “Congratulations, son, but be warned, savor your sleep. You will forget what sleeping, eating and quietness is when the baby arrives.”

“Thank you, Victor. I must say, it definitely came as quite a shock.”

“How far along is she?” Victor’s wife probes as she takes a bite out of her sandwich.

“The doctor said about ten weeks; due in the middle of July.” I don’t know why, but knowing the date…counting down to when our baby will be here with us, in our arms…the feeling is implausible.

“Well, congratulations, Hayden. I have no doubt you will both make fabulous parents,” she places her hand on my shoulder, and rubs gently. Her friendly smile is heartwarming.

“I just wish Dad was here to witness being a Grandfather,” I scowl, sorrow radiates through my cracking voice.

“Son––” the woman makes her way to the couches, leaving Victor and I alone. The elderly man steps forward, and positions his hand on my right shoulder. The strength of his lenses draws attention to his sapphire eyes. A dazzling gold chain draped expertly from his tweed vest to his inner pocket of his suit jacket. “You are standing in a room where the two generation of Wentworth’s before you spent most of their time. Trust me, Leonard may not be here physically, but be sure, he is watching.” I am filled with a warm, fuzzy feeling that emits from my heart and surges through my body. And I instantly feel my father’s presence following Victor’s words.

I nod, and he turns to walk in the direction of the buffet.

“I cannot believe that you are pregnant,” I overhear Jessie speak.

“I know, and I am terrified, Jess.” I am fixated to the spot as my curiosity piques.
Terrified?
I concentrate, listening attentively.

“Terrified in a good way, or a bad way, sweetie?”

“In a good way,”
Oh, thank the Lord.
“I never dreamed that I would achieve any of this. I have met the man of my dreams and for some reason, he fell in love with me. And with the strong-will we each have, and the power of our love, we somehow created this wonderful little person who already has fingernails and a heartbeat.” She speaks her words softly, and it’s a breath of fresh air, cooling my heated apprehension and concern.

Jessie sighs. “I look at you now, and I compare it to how you were four months ago; you’re a completely different person. I wouldn’t have recognized your personality, your demeanor, if I didn’t know you as well as I do. But remember, I will always be there for you, regardless of anything, I will always be there.”

“I know. Thank you, Jess.” She pulls her into a hug.

Smiling to myself, I advance a few short paces toward the women.

“Hayden.” Jessie’s arms lax around Samantha. As she releases her friend, she instantly encompasses me.

“Jessie.”

“Congratulations, on everything. I’m so pleased for the both of you.” Her arms fall away, and Samantha steps to my side, wraps her right arm around my waist, and hooks her thumb in the waistband of my pants.

“Thank you, and thank you for your help with all of this,” I wave around the room adorned with balloons, steamers and banners, before snaking my arm around Samantha’s waist, my hand clutching her left hip.

“Not a problem at all. You can reward me with babysitting duties.” She narrows her eyes incisively and pouts her full, glossy lips.

“Jess, that’s not for some time yet, you do realize that.”

“Yes, I am aware of that, Samantha Kennedy,” she rolls her eyes. “But I am certifying my acting rights as best friend and babysitter.”

As the women chortle in a schoolgirl like-way, I draw my right arm across my body and set it on Samantha’s abdomen. My baby…
our
baby, is in there. I inwardly ponder the changes that are ahead of us: her stomach expanding, feeling the baby move, strange cravings at 3:00 a.m., a tiny hand clutched around my little finger, scrutinizing me with weary eyes. I beam inwardly. My excitement and anticipation soars as I envision the first time of witnessing all these monumental factors.

I am going to be a Dad.

***

The weeks flow by smoothly, refreshingly, like a cooling gentle breeze after an intense heat wave.

Samantha’s morning sickness has ceased, and she seems to have regained the energy that waned in the earlier weeks. Her stomach is already swelling and firm just beneath her navel. She’s glowing, and every time I gaze upon her while she caresses her bump, or overhear her speaking to the baby that she is protecting, I can’t help but glow, too.

The leather of the headboard is no longer an icy block pressing against my back as I rest against it in the empty bed and cross my legs at the ankles. The bedside lamps emit a golden glow through the room. An imitation of a setting sun reflects onto the ceiling and the fringe of the wall, as the light shines through the top of the shade. Having taking the time, to research and understand exactly what Samantha’s body is enduring as she reaches her fourth month, I continue to flip through the pages of our latest book,
Pregnancy and You.

It’s truly fascinating how a baby develops.

Samantha switches the bathroom light off, and steps out of the en-suite. Promptly closing the book, I gaze mesmerized; her sodden hair is tied up haphazardly, and she sports nothing but white, laced panties. Her baby bump flaunted in front of me, the fullness of her breasts and the darkening hue of her areolas…it is such a resplendent sight to see a woman’s body alter, as she safeguards such a precious gift as it develops. It is also beyond arousing.

“Do you know it is rude to stare, Mr. Wentworth?” She glimpses down at me as she continues to seductively massage body lotion into her flesh.

“I can’t help it. You’re breathtakingly beautiful, Samantha.”

“Well…” she clambers over me, and delves under the comforter. The sweet mouth-watering scent of cocoa butter swirls and greets my nostrils as she passes. “…I far from feel that way.”

Depositing the book onto my bedside, I then divert my focus onto her as she props herself up, mimicking my position.

“Why do you say that? Is something bothering you, beautiful?” I frown, feeling both concerned and wary. I snare her right hand in mine and bring it to my lips.

“Hayden, my pants no longer fit. My breasts are heavy. And we haven’t, you know…”

Oh, no. I knew this was going to surface before long.

I twist my body to face her. “We have been intimate––”

“Not in the way I need, Hayden. My libido is through the roof, I–I…” eyes hooded, she shrugs her shoulders and scrapes her teeth across her lip before resuming. “I need to feel you. I need you to want me, not look at me differently because I’m pregnant. I am not made of glass; I am not going to break.”

I lay my hand upon her growing, firm belly and caress it with a gentle hand.

“Sam, I just don’t want to hurt, baby, Rose.”

Surprised and questionable, her blue eyes widen. Her lips twitch. “Rose?” she mutters in a daze. Her eyes and brow give in, creasing and narrowing as a result of her severely perplexed expression.

Feeling embarrassed, I shrug and offer a shy smile. “Well, call me humdrum, but I was flipping through the calendar. It looks as if conception dated back to the first time we made love. I thought Rose was…fitting.”

She glances up at the ceiling, her features softening greatly. “Rose Wentworth,” she tests the name on her palate, and by the megawatt smile she is attempting to reign in, I think she approves. “Yes, I like it,” she says indisputably.

“Really?”

“Hmm,” she nods haughtily, and I am soon pressing my lips to her swelling abdomen.

“Rose, it’s your daddy. Please tell your mommy to stop being silly, and that she is beautiful.” I feel her stomach tense and bounce as Samantha softly chuckles.

Grudgingly pulling myself away, I caress her cheek and hold her under my scrutiny.