My Babies and Me (20 page)

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Authors: Tara Taylor Quinn

BOOK: My Babies and Me
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BY TEN O'CLOCK the next morning, Michael was stepping into his mentor's penthouse office in Atlanta, a firmly sealed envelope in his hand.
“You needed to see me immediately?” Coppel asked, taking off his glasses as Michael approached his desk. “Ready to demand a partnership already?”
The man was smiling, a picture of confidence.
“No, sir.” Michael paused. “I—”
“You want a raise, then,” Coppel nodded toward the seat in front of his desk. “Fine, sit, we'll discuss it,” he said.
Michael remained standing and that was when Coppel noticed the envelope clasped between his fingers. Coppel froze, his gaze moving slowly from the envelope in Michael's hand to his face and back again.
For the first time in Michael's acquaintance with Coppel, the older man looked unsure, giving Michael pause.
“That better not be what it looks like,” he finally said.
“It's a letter of resignation, sir.” He'd thought the words would be harder to say, had expected them to stick in his throat.
They didn't.
“No, it isn't,” Coppel said, snatching his hands off the desk as Michael reached over to pass him the envelope.
“Yes, sir, it is.”
“I'm not accepting it.”
For a moment, as his life sped before his eyes, Michael turned cold. Was he making a horrible mistake? Acting rashly? Irrationally?
“Whatever the problem is, we'll fix it,” Coppel said, as though he could sense Michael's split-second waver.
In that instant, Michael felt a peace he'd never known before. He was already fixing the problem.
“I'm going to be a father,” he told the billionaire—the man he'd always aspired to be. “Of twins.”
Coppel paled. Sinking back in his chair, he stared
at Michael, his shoulders falling with disappointment. He suddenly had nothing to say. To Michael, he looked, for the first time, like what he was—an old man. A lonely old man.
“I'm sorry,” Michael said. And he was. But not for himself. He was sorry for a man he still admired the hell out of, but one he now knew he never wanted to be. Because life held far more riches than the billions James Coppel possessed.
Laying the envelope on the older man's desk, he walked silently out.
 
THE NEXT two and a half weeks flew by. Michael spent about eighteen of the twenty-four hours in each day on the telephone in his condo, leaving only long enough to get more coffee and toilet paper.
He spent hours on conference calls with the Miller family. After he'd resigned, they'd finally turned down the offer of a buy-out. He didn't feel morally correct in assisting them with the financing to accomplish on their own, on a smaller scale, what Coppel would have done with the company. But he felt great about turning them over to Melanie at Smythe and Westbourne. Coppel Industries still got a piece of the pie. And the Miller family had their lives back.
The rest of the time he spent calling every contact he had in the finance industry, setting himself up, laying the groundwork for the rest of his life.
But as his plans fell into place, he found he wasn't nearly as anxious as he would have expected, no matter how things fell out. He loved finance. But he no longer
had to be
in finance. He had enough money
already; if he invested it properly, he could actually retire now. Or he could go into the cartoon business...
One person he didn't call was Susan. Not until his plans were solid. Until he had a complete package to sell her. He wasn't going to take a chance on another rejection.
Finally, when all he had left to do was wait for return calls, he phoned his father. At the gas station. He'd done that purposely, so he'd have his father to himself. Sam Kennedy deserved to be able to express the disappointment that would be coming—something he never did in front of Mary.
“I've left Coppel, Dad,” he said, getting the job done right off.
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” He'd expected more, but maybe his dad thought he had to protect Michael, too, from his own dissatisfactions. Didn't Sam realize that Michael had known for years about his dad's regrets, how he'd lived vicariously through Michael's career moves?
“You had a better offer?” So Sam's hopes hadn't been dashed yet.
“Nope.”
“You've finally decided to slow down then? Live some?”
What?
“I'm going into business for myself,” he said, too confused to do anything but report the facts. “Financial consulting.”
“Isn't that a bit risky?”
Here it came. “Yes, frankly, it is, but with my contacts, I've already got enough business lined up to keep me busy.”
“Not too busy, I hope.”
“I don't get it, Dad. I thought you'd be disappointed in me.”
“Hell, no!”
Michael sat straight down, only half aware that the couch was there to catch him. He'd never heard his dad swear in his life. “I don't worry much about Bob,” Sam said, shocking Michael further. “His job's steady, he's got a good wife. And the twins, they both married fine, hardworking men, and they've got your mother. But you—” Stunned, Michael just sat there listening.
“All you've got is money and that can't warm a fella's heart much.”
“But—”
“Don't get me wrong, son, I'm mighty proud of everything you do, brag around town about you every chance I get, but I'd trade it all for you to have even half the time, the love, I've had with your mother all these years.”
“But—”
“I thought when you married, Susan, well, maybe... But I guess the time wasn't right.”
“You could have been an engineer or a scientist or something,” Michael blurted, beyond caring that he sounded more like his brother than the educated man he was.
“And then I wouldn't have had you.”
“Didn't you ever wish you hadn't?” Michael wished he could take the words back the instant he heard them. Those thoughts belonged to no one but himself.
“Is that what you thought?”
“Who could blame you, Dad?” he said. Now that he'd brought it up, they might as well get it all out.
“Never, not for one instant, have I regretted having you,” Sam said. Michael had never heard his dad so angry at him. At Bob, maybe. But not at him.
“How could you not?” He'd known since he was just a kid that he'd been responsible for ruining his father's life.
“Son, that's something I can't explain to you. Only a parent understands how it feels to hold your firstborn in your arms, to actually know the joy that surpasses all understanding, to feel the awe. To know that, God willing, this being will be a part of you for the rest of your life—and beyond. No scientist could ever invent something as great as that.”
For a man who couldn't remember ever being choked up, Michael was having a hard time finding his voice.
“I, uh, have something else to tell you, Pop,” he finally said.
“What's that, son?”
“You're going to have a bit more of that joy coming up really soon.”
“What?” He'd confused Sam now.
Grinning from ear to ear, completely free for the first time in memory, Michael said, “I've got a son and a daughter due to be born in less than a month.”
“Susan's pregnant?” Sam yelled so loudly Michael had to take the phone away from his ear. “With twins?”
“Yep,” he said.
Nothing in his life had ever made Michael feel quite so good.
THE PHONE RANG some time after Michael had fallen asleep that night. Rolling over drowsily, he made up his mind to tell his family that further discussions would have to wait until tomorrow—or at least until he got some sleep. He'd heard from all of them, his mother and sisters, at least half a dozen times that evening, as they made plans for their new babies.
“Michael? It's Seth.”
Instantly wide awake, Michael sat up. “What's wrong?” The other man sounded panicked.
“Susan's in labor. The pains are really far apart, but the doctor says this is it.” Seth spoke so fast, he was out of breath when he'd finished.
“I'm on my way—”
“Thank God. I can't do this one for you.”
 
SHE WAS ALREADY in her birthing room by the time Michael made it to the hospital. Seth met him at the hospital door and hurried him up to the maternity floor, where a nurse was standing by with sterilized paper clothes for him to pull on over his jeans and sweatshirt.
“How is she?”
“Still has a little way to go,” Seth said. “The doctor was just with her, but she's in there alone right now.” And Seth obviously didn't like that fact one bit.
“Does she know I'm coming?” he asked Laura over a frenzied Seth's head.
Laura shook her head. “He didn't want her fretting in case your plane was delayed or the babies came early.”
Or she didn't want me here,
Michael finished.
He wasn't going to worry about that. He'd win her over. Even if the package wasn't gift-wrapped yet.
He'd been so frantic to get there, but when the moment came to enter Susan's room, he hung back.
“Where are your kids?” he asked Laura.
“At Seth's house. His dad, Sean and Stephen are with them.”
And Spencer and Scott—the only two with kids, and hence, not as mobile—were at their own homes pacing, he was sure.
“Get in there, man.” Seth said between gritted teeth, pushing Michael through the door.
Prepared for the worst, preparing himself to see Susan gripped with searing pain, he went in.
She turned when the door opened, still laughing at something she'd been watching on television, and Michael just shook his head. She even underestimated the trauma of giving birth.
 
THE LAUGHTER DIED on Susan's lips when she saw who'd come in the door.
“Thank God,” she whispered and then, to her horror, burst into tears.
“Susan?” Panic lining his face, Michael was beside her in an instant. “What can I do, love? Are you okay?”
“I'm fine, Michael,” she sobbed, grabbing at him desperately, pulling him down until he was half lying on top of her.
“You don't sound fine—”
“Just hold me, Michael,” she said, still crying. “I thought I could do this without you, but when it came right down to it I was so scared and I didn't know
what to do and there was no way to stop it from happening, but I just couldn't do it....” The words tumbled over themselves, but Michael caught every blessed one of them. “Ohhh...” she cried out as a contraction began.
“Shhh, Sus, save your strength,” he said. “I'm here now, for good.”
Riding out the pain, she clutched him tightly, and then as it subsided, she pushed him away. “For good?” She just couldn't afford to hope. She needed all her strength to get her babies born. And Michael, after all, was Michael.
Grinning, he spread his arms wide. “Meet Michael Kennedy, Finance Consultant,” he said.
“Michael?” She studied every inch of his face, hardly recognizing the light in his eyes, the easy smile on his lips.
“I quit Coppel's three weeks ago, Sus,” he said, all playfulness gone. “I only hope you can forgive me for taking so much longer than you to grow up.”
“You're sure?” she whispered.
“I'll tell you all about it later, but rest assured, I've never felt better in my life.”
He'd grown up? Hadn't she just said that about herself the last time they'd—Of course she had. But how was it possible that Michael had done such an abrupt about-face?
Susan didn't know how this miracle had happened, but she knew suddenly, with complete surety, that it had.
“Oh, Michael. Ohhh!” The love and happiness in Susan's voice changed instantly, first to surprise, and
then agony as, without further warning, their children decided the time had come to make their appearance.
 
COMPLETELY UNPREPARED for the speed with which things happened after that, Michael just went with the flow, his only job to give Susan whatever strength he could, however he could. Barely aware of the people moving in and out of the room, the instructions and orders, he stayed at the head of her bed, telling her over and over again how much he loved her.

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