Suddenly Expecting (10 page)

Grace finally sighed and said, “I can’t deny I’m hurt, Kat.”

She grimaced. “I know. And I am really, really sorry about that. But it wasn’t planned. If there’s anything I can do to make it right for you...”

“An interview.”

Kat blinked, her brow furrowed. “What?”

“You can give me that interview we were talking about.” Grace stood swiftly, hands wide on her desk, a gleam in her eye.

Oh, wow. That was a bit...
Kat’s head spun a little. “That’s...uh. No.”

“You’re still saying no?” Grace lifted her brow. “After what you’ve just told me? Knowing nothing in this business is kept a secret for long?” At Kat’s look of alarm, she waved a hand in the air. “Oh, honey, you should know by now it won’t be me leaking details to the press. But once others get involved, it’s inevitable.”

Kat remained silent as Grace gave her a long look, then fished out a makeup bag from her desk and went through the motions of reapplying lipstick. It was true. A secret was kept only by one person, and over the next few days more and more people would be involved, like it or not.

“The offer is still there,” Grace finally said, unplugging her phone and scrolling through her messages. “We’d do it your way, with your final approval. And you know I don’t often say that.”

Kat paused, trying to get everything straight in her head. “So you’re okay with the Marco thing?”

“No.” Grace smiled thinly.

She swallowed. “Grace...is this going to be awkward between us?”

“Most likely.” The older woman eyed her, her expression still tight. “You denied it too much, you know. I always knew you had a thing—one that predates my claim—so I shouldn’t be that surprised.”

Kat swallowed her guilt, glancing away. “That’s not what—”

“Oh, please.” Grace rolled her eyes theatrically as she walked to the door and pulled it open. “Give me some credit here. You and Marco have
always
been a thing.”

Kat followed her out the door then down the corridor in silence, until Grace finally turned and eyed her. “So when are you going public?”

“
If,
Grace,” Kat said. “If we go public.”

Grace threw her a knowing look over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s a ‘when,’ hon. Trust me.”

Kat frowned. “That’s not something we’ve thought about.”

“Really?” Grace kept walking. “Well, you’d better start. Gossip has a way of getting out, you know.”

Kat stared at her back. Was that a threat? That definitely sounded like one. And to be honest, she couldn’t deny Grace her bitterness. If she could make this right with her, she’d gladly do it.

Even giving her an exclusive?

Ugh. That thought lay heavy in her gut for the rest of the afternoon, until she finally made her way home, barely made it through a shower and finally collapsed into a blissful sleep coma on her bed.

Eight

T
he next day Marco and Kat sat in Dr. Hardy’s waiting room, nervously waiting for her name to be called. Most structures in North Cairns had survived cyclone damage and it was still a surreal sight to see: half the town had been flattened while the other half stood tall and proud as if everything was normal.

Instead of offering empty it’ll-be-okays and you’ll-be-all-rights, he remained silent, loosely holding her hand, occasionally brushing her knuckles with his thumb as the minutes ticked by.

One minute.

Five.

Ten.

He glanced at the clock then scanned the pristine waiting room for the umpteenth time. Life still went on, despite the destruction outside. People still needed results, still needed diagnosing, needed to know what was wrong and how to fix it. Only a few people waited with them—a young couple, an elderly man, a woman with two small children—and briefly he wondered what each of their stories was, how they’d come to be here, right now. How they would cope with bad news, what they had vowed to change if the prognosis was good.

He watched the young mother settle her toddler with a book, and he smiled at her as their eyes met over the child’s head.

That could be Kat in a few years’ time.

Or not.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she said now with a small smile.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,
chérie.
” He squeezed her hand, careful to keep his worry firmly under wraps as he met her gaze. She needed him to be strong, whatever the result. He was there as her best friend, not the man who loved her so much he’d willingly sell his soul to trade places if he could.

Her finger softly traced his frown lines with a half smile. “Don’t,” she said softly.

He captured her hand, kissed it gently before his gaze slid away. “Sorry.”

“Please, Marco. I really couldn’t cope if you fell apart on me now.”

He nodded, breath catching for a moment before he slowly huffed it out.

You need to tell her.

He grimaced, his gaze firmly on the floor.
No.
She had told him quite firmly they were friends. Nothing more. He had no doubt if he did tell her, that it would be the end of their friendship. And fighting about that now, proving to her that they should be together when she had so much more on her mind, would take everything he had. Waiting was not something he did well, but he wanted her in his life. He’d damn well have to wait for now, regardless of how it frustrated him.

Just not for long.

The door suddenly opened and all eyes went to Dr. Hardy as he walked purposefully over to them with a pleasant smile.

His heart thudded, hard.

“Good afternoon, Kat. Thanks for coming in.” He said it softly, but still the people closest to them heard. A gentle murmur of recognition rippled, followed by all eyes swiveling to her as she stood with a flush. To her credit she ignored it all, just tightened her hand in Marco’s and followed the doctor down the hall.

“Have you seen the town?” Dr. Hardy began as they settled in his office, his elderly face creased into concerned lines.

“Yes. It’s unbelievable.”

“Not quite as bad as Yasi but pretty grim.”

She nodded, her expression neutral. Yeah, she was impatient, though. Marco could tell by the small muscles bracketing her mouth, the slight dip of her eyebrows.

“So,” Marco said. “The tests. You ran them again?”

“We did.” Dr. Hardy coughed then slowly removed his glasses, tossing them on the file.

“And?”

He spent interminable seconds shuffling through the file, then finally pulled out a piece of paper and read, pausing way too long.

Kat leaned in with a frown. “What?”

Dr. Hardy flushed. “First, I want to offer you my heartfelt sympathies for what you’ve been going through. We do have strict protocols, and regretfully I broke from that because of the history I had with your mother.” He coughed. “But right now I can confirm that...” He stared at the paper before returning to her. “There was a mix-up at the lab. Some samples were mislabeled. And as a result, you have tested negative for motor neuron disease.”

It was like taking a football to the chest, meted out by the world’s best striker. Marco’s gasp mingled with Kat’s softer, higher one. Her hand went still in his as she froze, eyes wide. Her voice, when it came, wavered as if she’d just raced up a flight of stairs. “I’m sorry...what?”

“Your blood-test results have tested negative for motor neuron disease. You are clear and healthy, and—”

Marco’s pounding heart drowned out the rest. She was healthy. The tests were clear.

The relief was unlike anything he’d ever known in his life. Nothing compared—not national selection, not the not-guilty verdict from his father’s trial. Not even the positive results after his knee surgery telling him that yes, he would be able to walk. This...oh, this...

Joy, pure unadulterated joy choked his breath, and he felt the crazy laugh well inside, just before he choked it down.

She’s going to have a child.
Our child.

His expletive came out like a shot, and then he was turning to her and dragging her into a hug that was way too tight, way too emotional, but damn, she was clear, and the joy that swelled was too hard to contain.

She was going to live to see their child grow up. Take its first steps. Go to school, go on dates, get married.

Damn, she was going to
live.

Eventually he pulled back enough to cup her teary face, knowing his smile stretched from ear to ear, because hers matched it.

“Clear,” she whispered, her joyful expression a watery mess.

“Clear,” he repeated, then slowly added, “We’re going to have a baby.”

Her eyes widened for a second, and then a small nod followed. “Oh, we so are.”

* * *

Kat swallowed. She had tested negative. She was having a baby.

She couldn’t even begin to quantify these two life-changing statements. She’d done enough survivor stories to know the emotion involved in processing this kind of information. The mix of elation and sheer panic running through her mind right now was...overwhelming. Overpowering. It choked her breath, snagged a laugh in her throat, forced tears to her eyes.

She stared at Marco as he brushed her damp cheeks with a shaky hand. How many times had she nodded sympathetically when all those survivors had tried to verbalize their feelings, tried to compose their thoughts into some semblance of control yet let everyone know of the emotion behind it? But she didn’t know, not really.

Until now.

The adrenaline rush was amazing. She wanted to cry and laugh and dance and take on the world. She wanted to do reckless things just for the hell of it. She wanted to fulfill all those silly, crazy dreams she and Marco had laughingly thought up in ninth grade, trying to outdo each other on the ridiculous scale. Bungee jumping off the Eiffel Tower. Hiring Disneyland for the day. Biking down Everest. Flying a fighter jet.

She wanted to
live.

After all these years of steadfastly refusing to get tested, pushing the worry and doubt to the back of her mind, then those agonizing hours of unbelievable anguish, she had finally been cut a break.

Everything seemed surreal, as if she was walking through a dream where nothing and no one could touch her. And couple that with Marco’s gentle kiss, his obvious joy at her results, and there was no better moment than this, right here.

It was... Well, she couldn’t even find the words to describe it.
Amazing
and
unbelievable
were way too tame for such a life-changing occasion.

She wasn’t sick.

Dr. Hardy’s discreet cough, when it came, had them both turning in surprise. He sat in the same position, leaning forward on the desk, arms bent, his expression professional.

“Thanks, Doctor,” Kat got out, the smile stretching her face until it ached. “That’s the best news I could’ve had.”

“You’re welcome.” He leaned back in his chair, a hand brushing over his sparse gray hair. “There is, however, one more issue.”

“Yes?”

He cleared his throat and focused his gaze on her. “Your mother’s blood group is O, correct?”

She nodded. “Yes, it was in the hospital documents.”

“And you are AB.”

“Yes.”

“Well, here’s our problem.”

She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m not getting it.”

“Kat, normally I’d recommend further blood tests, make the standard speech about getting more results, seeing your doctor, etc., etc. But I knew your mother for a long time and I owe you this.” He sighed. “I’m saying an O parent cannot have an AB child.”

She blinked then shook her head with a snort. “Well, obviously there’s been a mistake. We need to test it again.”

He fixed her with a look, part sympathy, part concern. “I’m sorry. It’s been done three times already. There’s no mistake.”

What?

Kat stilled, her thoughts all crammed in tight as she tried to decipher what this meant.

Okay, so her mother was O. She was AB. And O and AB couldn’t be related. Which meant...

Her hand suddenly tightened in Marco’s. “Hang on, you’re saying it’s impossible for my mother to be my
mother?
”

Dr. Hardy nodded.

“No,” she croaked, and then more firmly said, “No, the tests are wrong. Just...just...” she stammered, her head whirling. “Just like with my first results! An accident. Human error.”

“No, it’s quite correct. We were very careful this time around. Everything was done properly.” He paused, taking in her pale face and thinning mouth. “Kat, look, I can put you in touch with someone who—”

She stood so quickly, the blood rushed to her head. “I can’t...I can’t...” She didn’t finish that sentence, just strode over to the door and stalked out.

Impossible. Ridiculous. It had to be a mistake.

She made it out the waiting room, then down the corridor, oblivious to Marco calling her. The elevators gave her pause, and she viciously punched an elevator button as her mind tried to make sense of these past few days, put them in neat little boxes and bring her some order and peace.

She couldn’t. She was as far from peace as she could possibly be right now. She’d had a life-threatening disease for a day and everything involved in that—the feelings, the worry, the entire universe of emotion that came with the ordeal—had drained her. Yes, she’d managed to wrap her head around it, even though part of her deep down had refused to accept it. And now here she was, her greatest wish come true. She was disease-free....

But she had no clue who she was.

Who was her real mother? Was her father even her father? Did she have brothers, sisters out there somewhere? Where was she born? Did she look like anyone in her family?

Had someone given her up and then turned around and walked away without another thought? Was she stolen? Or had her parents loved her and been involved in some horrible accident?

A sob caught in her throat and she lifted a shaky hand to her mouth, determinedly glaring at the elevator doors as she felt the tears form.

It was as if someone had just suddenly erased her entire past, every single moment and memory effectively wiped and replaced with...what?

A million questions.

She sensed rather than saw Marco standing beside her, a silent presence that did little to calm her chaotic insides.

Was her real name Katerina, or was that another lie? Did her father know? Did
anyone
know?

Just who the
hell
was she?

She choked back a sob just when the elevator doors swung open, and she silently entered, hand still on her mouth as if to hold in all those raw, spilling emotions.

Marco pressed the basement-floor button and finally broke the silence. “What are you going to do?”

Her eyes remained firmly on the doors as she desperately tried to gain control, swallowing thickly and blinking over and over. She would not break down here, not now.

Later, yes. Not here.

“I’m going to see my dad.”

A pause. “Flights will be limited until the airport’s given the all clear.”

“I know. I’ll take the next available to Brisbane.”

“I’ll come with you.”

Desperate for something else to focus on, she pulled out her phone and tapped on the travel app. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

“Can you take time off work?”

“I’ll make time,” he said firmly. “This is important.”

She chanced a glance at his determined expression and then quickly looked away.
Of course you want him there.

Just as during every other emotional time in her life, his presence would give her the necessary strength to get through this. He was her first and last choice.

“Okay. I’ll let you know.” The elevator opened and she walked out the foyer, then through the automatic doors. “Can you drop me off home?”

“Sure.”

They walked across the car park to the vehicle in silence, and when she finally slid onto the soft leather seat with a groan, she closed her eyes. She was physically and emotionally drained. Thank God Marco said nothing, just drove in silence.

They finally reached her apartment block, and still not a word had been said.

What could she possibly say? She’d been through the emotional wringer and her brain was desperate to focus on something else. Yet when she crawled out of the car and glanced back at him, the small frown furrowing his brow and the look on his face crumbled her composure. “Kat, are you okay?”

She gave him a shaky smile. “No, actually. But I will be.”

“Do you want me to come up?”

She pulled back, shaking her head. “No. No, thanks. I just need some time alone. Time to sort some things out.”

“Okay.” His blatant skepticism almost had her smiling. Almost.

“I’ll call you.” With that she turned and walked off, her disappointment echoing with every click of her heels on concrete.

What was she expecting? She’d said no, and he’d taken her at her word. End of discussion.

Except her reality had been ripped from her in the space of one afternoon, and she had no idea what to think or feel anymore. So instead of focusing on the whole messed-up bag of her parentage—the sensible thing when she had no clear answers—she latched on to the other issue she’d been avoiding.