The Nurse's Newborn Gift (4 page)

“Whoa.” He held up both hands. “Calm down. I'm not here to upset you, I'm trying to help.”

“Well I don't need your help. And I don't need Kira's help. I'm going to do this on my own. I
can
do it on my own. I
will
do it on my own.” She repeated her mantra of late.

“But you don't have to do it on your own, Krissy. Jarrod wouldn't want you to go through all of this on your own.”

Jarrod
. God how she missed him, how she wished he was here. Tears pricked her eyes.

“Let me help you.”

“Why would you want to help me?” she snapped. “You blame me for Jarrod's death.” Now
she
blamed herself, too. “You hate me.”

“I don't hate you.”

Even though he towered over her, Krissy stared him down. “Liar.”

“I don't. I know you're not responsible for Jarrod's death. He was an adult. He made his own decisions, however misguided they may have been. I'm sorry for what I said and how I acted when you came to my apartment. I was mean. You didn't deserve it. Seems I had some unresolved issues where Jarrod's death was concerned. But I'm over them now.” He motioned to a chair. “Please, sit down. You look ready to collapse.”

Now that he mentioned it, she kind of felt ready to collapse, too. Probably because this was the most energy she'd exerted since she'd left the hospital three days ago. So she sat.

Spencer sat, too.

“Glad I was available to help you resolve your issues,” Krissy said, even if, as a result, she now felt even more weighted down by guilt. “Happy to be of service.” In truth she wasn't happy at all. Rather than look at him, Krissy reached to take a packet of artificial sweetener from the basket in the center of the table and started flipping it between her fingers.

“Hey.” Spencer reached over, slid a knuckle under her chin, and tilted her face up so she had to look at him. “I'm sorry, truly sorry, from the bottom of my cold, unfeeling heart,” he said, with such sincerity she believed him. But the damage was done, the truth had come out—about Jarrod and about what Spencer really thought of her—and there'd be no unhearing it.

Only moving her eyes, Krissy glanced at the clock on the microwave. “You've exceeded your two minutes.” She didn't like this nice, self-deprecating version of Spencer, didn't like the way it made her feel, didn't know how to respond to it.

Spencer released her chin and held out his hand. “Can we have a truce? Maybe start fresh?”

“Why?”

He reached down to her lap and took her hand into his. “We were friends once, good friends for a long time.”

But they weren't friends anymore.

“And that's my best friend's baby in there.” He pointed to her belly. “Can't we put our differences aside and do what's best for Jarrod's baby?”

Rather than remind him that little J.J. was part her baby too, Krissy thought about his proposal. She'd spent most of the last five and a half years traveling from place to place and had no local friends, as in good friends she'd feel comfortable calling for help in the middle of the night, in White Plains, where she now lived to be close to her sister. It'd be nice to know, in case of emergency, she had someone she could call aside from Kira and Derrick.

“Come on,” Spencer said with a handsome smile. He let go of her hand and held his out. “Friends?”

After a brief hesitation, more to make him wait than anything else, Krissy shook it. “Friends.”

“Good.” Spencer unfolded the paper he'd set down on the table and turned it so she could read what he'd written.

“On top,” he pointed, “is the hospital information. Down here,” he moved his finger lower, “is the rental agent for my building.”

“Whoa.” Krissy sat back. “No.”

“It's not my intent to overstep, but you mentioned you needed an apartment.”

“I am not moving into your building.”

He looked offended. “Why not? It's nice. It has security. It has ample parking and is close to shopping, Derrick's office, and White Plains Hospital. Also, I checked, they have two one bedroom units and three two bedroom units available for immediate occupancy. With a recommendation from me, you could probably be in by the end of this week, early next, assuming your credit's okay.”

While Krissy liked the sound of ‘immediate occupancy', “I can't afford it.”

“I happen to know you were the sole beneficiary of a huge life insurance policy. You couldn't possibly have...” He hesitated, his eyes studying her face as he seemed to be trying to figure out the safest way to finish his statement.

Krissy stared back, at a crossroad. She could pounce on him for even thinking she'd blow through all the money Jarrod had left her. Or she could avoid confrontation and take the high road, so to speak, which is what she decided to do. After all, Spencer was trying to be nice. She could try too. “I have every cent Jarrod left me, and it's been accruing interest for the past five years.”

Spencer let out a relieved breath. “Good. Then you can afford—”

“No I can't. I need someplace cheap. What if my baby is a genius and wants to go to an Ivy League college? I want to be able to send him. Then there's graduate school or medical school.”

Spencer smiled. “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren't you? The baby's not even born yet and you're planning his college education?”

“No. I'm being a responsible parent and trying to ensure the best future I can give my and Jarrod's son.”

Spencer simply stared at her with an odd look on his face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he answered, glancing away. “I just...didn't...”

Krissy finished for him, “Expect I'd want to be a good, responsible parent?” She could have gotten offended. Instead she looked down at her belly and rubbed each side. “Jarrod entrusted me with a part of him. He believed in me, believed I'd make a good mother for his child. I'm honored to have his baby, to give his parents a grandson. I loved him, maybe not the same way he loved me,” she wiped at a tear threatening to spill out of her right eye, “but I did love him. And I love our baby and will do everything in my power to see he grows up happy and healthy and is afforded every opportunity I can give him.”

She lifted her eyes to Spencer. “I'm not the same person I was in high school. I may not do things according to everyone else's schedule, but I do what needs to be done by the time it needs to be done.”

She pushed back from the table and stood. “Thank you for this information.” She picked the paper up from the table, folded it, and slid it into the pocket of her scrub top.

Spencer stood, too. “I picked my apartment building, because I'm there. Well, not all the time. It's soccer season now, so I'm busier than during off season. I rotate traveling to away games with another assistant athletic trainer.” He slid his hands into the front pockets in his slacks, the move relaxed and confident and oh, so sexy. “What I'm trying to say is, I thought it would be nice for you to have a friend close by just in case. Middle of the night? I can hop on the elevator, be there in minutes, rather than getting into the car and driving to wherever you are. Unless there's some other guy you'd rather call, then by all means, call him. Either way, I don't plan on bothering you.”

“Or checking up on me?” Like Kira tended to do.

“Not up, but checking
in
on you, to make sure you're okay, to see if you need anything.” He held up both hands. “That's all. I promise to respect your privacy. And I won't ever come over without being invited.”

Maybe that'd work, if the rents were reasonable, and until she figured out what she wanted to do and where she wanted to be long term, after J.J.'s birth. Maybe she'd move back to New York City to be closer to Jarrod's parents. “Thank you, Spencer. Really.” She looked up into his eyes. “For the record, no, there is no other guy I'd rather call. Well, except for Derrick, but then Kira would come too, and I'm trying to avoid bothering her. And, yes. I'll think about looking into available apartments in your building.”

Someone knocked on the door.

As Krissy went to answer it Spencer said, “Great. And if you need a Lamaze coach...”

“Absolutely not.”

CHAPTER FOUR

F
IVE
DAYS
LATER
, on Saturday morning, Spencer found himself driving to Lamaze class with an unhappy Krissy in the front passenger seat of his car.

“How do you like your new place?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

“It's fine,” she answered, sounding bored, as she looked out the window.

Much better than fine, her one-bedroom apartment in his building—because the rent on the one-bedroom was less than the rent on the two-bedroom—was beautiful. Spacious, with freshly painted walls, refurbished hardwood floors and an updated kitchen. He knew the details for certain, because he'd helped Derrick and Kira move her in on Thursday night, not that she'd required much help since all she'd brought with her were two duffle bags, five or six boxes, and a small, twin-size bed.

Now, every time he rode the elevator past the fourth floor, to or from his apartment on the sixth floor, he thought about her, wondered if she was okay, if she needed anything.

Yes, as she'd pointed out during their chat in the staff lunchroom at Derrick's office, Jarrod had entrusted her with a part of himself. Well, Jarrod had also entrusted Spencer to look after and help the woman he'd loved completely and the child he'd entrusted her with. Spencer took his responsibilities very seriously, always had. Jarrod knew that, had seen Spencer step up after his father had died, keeping a close eye on his younger sisters, protecting and guiding them, like his father would have. Better than his father would have.

As much as Spencer had been looking forward to his newfound freedom from his mother and sisters, the truth was he'd been feeling a little lost for the past few months. No way he wanted to take on the responsibility of another woman in his life, one mother and two sisters were enough, thank you very much. But the more he thought about it, the more the idea of helping and looking after Krissy and her baby, at least for now, until they were both settled, started to grow on him. It gave him a purpose, made him feel needed again. And just like researching future occupations, scholarships and colleges with his sisters, and helping his mom figure out college loans and investment strategies for retirement planning, Spencer had put in the hours to research pregnancy, labor and delivery, and caring for a newborn.

The timing worked.

During soccer season he could be around for Krissy, help her out. After she had the baby he could stop in here and there, make sure little J.J. was well cared for. Then, at the end of soccer season, he'd take off for a few weeks of rest and relaxation.

Playing the role of godfather to Krissy and Jarrod's baby didn't have to ruin his plans.

“I really appreciate you coming with me today,” Krissy said, again, for the... Spencer had lost track of how many times she'd said it. “I have lots of friends down in New York City. But Kira moved herself and my mom up to White Plains while I was out in Hawaii. I don't know many people here yet.”

She repositioned herself in her seat, again, either uncomfortable or antsy. He couldn't tell which.

“No problem,” he answered, again, like he'd answered each time she'd stated her appreciation. The crash course version of Lamaze—three hours on Saturday morning and three hours on Sunday afternoon—worked out perfectly with his work schedule. Luckily he hadn't been scheduled to travel to Canada with the team. Only a few injured players had stayed behind for rehab so he could easily flex his schedule.

“Kira had to work today. I'm sure if I'd asked, she would have come tomorrow.”

“But I insisted on going both days because—”

“Attending only half of the class won't make either one of you a proficient coach,” she finished. “That makes sense. If you're even around when I go into labor.”

“I'll be around.”

“What if you're traveling with the team?”

He wouldn't be. Come Monday he'd be talking to management about his need to stay local for the next few weeks. “Even when the team is out of town, one assistant athletic trainer stays behind to work with the players who are injured. And not all of the guys travel with the team. The ones who remain here still practice, so an athletic trainer needs to be on site.”

“Don't go changing your schedule at work because of me. I mean it's not like I
need
a coach.” She continued to stare out the window as Spencer pulled into the parking lot behind her doctor's office. “I mean I
am
a nurse. I
did
do a labor and delivery rotation as a nursing student. I
know
what Lamaze is.”

She demonstrated a breathing sequence he recognized from the Lamaze research he'd done online to prepare for the class. “During which phase of labor are you supposed to use that particular breathing technique?”

Still looking out the window, she crossed her arms over her chest, defiant, and said, “When it hurts, that's when.”

Spencer pulled into a vacant spot, turned off the car, and removed his seat belt. Then he shifted in his seat to face her. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing's the matter.” She wouldn't look at him.

“You're all sulky.”

That got a rise out of her and she swung around to face him. “I am
not
all sulky.”

Oh, yes, she was. It's not like he'd never seen her sulky before. This was her standard MO back in high school, every time he and/or Jarrod had tried to get her to do something she didn't want to do—like go to geometry class, stay after school for extra help in U.S. History, or walk directly home with them rather than getting into trouble with the kids who hung out at the deli on the corner.

In the past he'd have made a joke or poked fun to get her riled up. But not today. Today was too important. “What's wrong, Krissy?”

She turned back to the window. “I don't want to be here.”

Now they were getting somewhere. “Why not?”

Shoulders hunched, she shrugged and mumbled something.

“What?”

“I'm not ready,” she said quietly. “For the whole giving birth thing.”

“You're not ready? I've got news for you. This baby's going to be coming in the next couple of weeks whether you're ready or not so you'd better get yourself ready.”

She turned on him. “Don't be mean to me, Spencer. I really can't handle you being mean to me right now.” Her voice sounded like she might be on the verge of tears as she turned to look down at her hands fidgeting in her lap.

A moment of vulnerability from the tough-talking, fiercely independent and confident Krissy took him by surprise.

“I didn't think this whole ‘have Jarrod's baby' idea through carefully enough,” she went on. “The pregnancy itself? Not totally awful. Raising little J.J.?” She caressed her belly lovingly. “I'm sure I'll get the hang of it.”

Get the hang of it?

Her eyes met his again. “It's the getting the baby from in here,” she pointed to her belly, “out into the world that's giving me some trouble.”

“Krissy—”

“I have four weeks left until my due date,” she cut him off. “In four weeks I'll have to be ready and I will be ready. Until then I don't want to talk about it or think about it or worry about it.”

He reached for her hand, finding it ice cold. Whoa. “Hey.” He gave it a squeeze. “You know it's normal to be scared.” For sure he would be. “But women have been having babies for centuries, a lot of them over and over again. It's a very natural process.”

“Says a man who has never experienced and will never have to experience the act of pushing a fifteen pound baby out of an opening the size of a walnut.”

Smiling probably wasn't the best response, but he smiled anyway. “You're not having a fifteen pound baby.”

She slid him a look. “You don't know that.”

That's right. He didn't, at least not for sure. But according to his research, the average birth weight for babies was seven and a half pounds, with a range of five and a half pounds on the low end of normal and ten pounds on the high end. Since, even pregnant, Krissy was on the small side, he'd guess her baby would be on the small side too.

“All this talk about individualized birth plans and creating the experience you want. A bunch of bull.” She waved off the idea. “I told my doctor I wanted the unconscious plan. A scheduled cesarean, so I know when J.J. is coming. General anesthesia, so I can sleep through the painful parts and wake up relaxed and happy and ready to get started on the mother son bonding.”

She may be scared, but she managed to be amusing at the same time. “General anesthesia, that's your birth plan.” She had to be kidding. Although she didn't look like she was kidding at all.

“Don't judge me, Spencer. I don't like pain. Pain hurts. And to have to endure it for hours and hours and maybe days.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. Then she shook her head. “Nuh-uh. Not for me.”

“How'd your doctor respond to your request for general anesthesia?”

“He laughed.” She looked like she couldn't believe he'd had the nerve. “Like I was joking around. Well I wasn't. I was totally serious.” She fidgeted with her necklace. “Then he told the nurse to sign me up for the next Lamaze class. I told him I wasn't available this weekend but he told me to make myself available that he expected me to be here and would be very disappointed if I didn't show up. Like a parent tells a child. ‘I'll be very disappointed if you don't show up,'” she mimicked in a deep, authoritative voice. Then she turned to look out the window. “I really don't want to disappoint him but...maybe I should find a new doctor.”

“You don't need a new doctor.” Spencer liked the guy, especially since he seemed to know how to handle patients like Krissy. “Maybe he wanted you to take this weekend's class because he thinks you're going to deliver early.”

Krissy's eyes went wide and all the color drained from her face. “Don't say that. Don't even think it.”

“Lamaze is supposed to teach you how to cope with the discomfort of contractions,” Spencer said, keeping his voice calm. “Give the class a chance. Maybe you'll learn something. Maybe it'll alleviate some of your fears.”

“I doubt that.”

He gave her hand a shake. “I promise to take you for a hot fudge sundae when it's all over.” Her favorite, at least it used to be.

“No.” She shook her head and pulled her hand from his. “I've made up my mind. If my current OB-GYN won't knock me out with medication, I'm going to find one who will. So all this Lamaze stuff is going to be a total waste of time that could be much better spent shopping for furniture and baby stuff.”

“As a nurse you know natural childbirth is best for the baby.”

She turned to look at him, or, more specifically, to stare down at his crotch. “Hmmm. What do you think we could do to you to simulate what natural childbirth might feel like?” She smiled sweetly. “Then we can talk about natural childbirth.”

Okay. Not going there.

“I have seen women give birth,” she said. “I have listened to their screams on the Labor and Delivery floor. I have actually witnessed the birthing process, live and in person. I can tell you, in no uncertain terms, nothing short of knowing I will be heavily medicated so I can sleep through delivery, will put my mind at ease.”

“Krissy,” he cautioned.

“What?” she snapped.

Good lord. The woman was stubborn to the end. “We're going to Lamaze class,” he told her calmly. Even if he had to drag her. “Just give it a try. That's all I ask. If you hate it and find it not at all helpful, we'll leave.” Not before he did his absolute best to convince her to stay. Hopefully once he got her inside she'd calm down.

“You're not going to leave me alone about this, are you?”

He shook his head. No. He wasn't.

“Fine.” She threw open the door. “Let's go waste the next three hours of our lives. Time we will never get back, by the way.” She slammed the door shut behind her.

Spencer didn't care. She'd gotten out of the car, and that's all that mattered. Reaching into the backseat, he grabbed his pad and pen and the two pillows Krissy had brought, then he climbed out, too.

One look at what he held in his hands and Krissy slammed her hands on her hips. “Really? A pad and pen? You plan to take notes?”

Just to get a rise out of her he said, “I plan to study them, too.”

“Poindexter.” She turned to walk up the sidewalk. “Some things never change.”

He smiled as he followed, hadn't been called that name in years and he liked hearing it, especially in Krissy's annoyed voice. Just like old times. “Call me what you will, but when you're ready to give birth, I'll be ready to coach you through it.”

“I plan to be
sleeping
through it.” She glanced back. “But thanks.”

Two hours later, in a large, dimly lit room, with Krissy laying on her side on a mat with a pillow under her head and one between her legs, Spencer, and the couples around them, got an earful of how Krissy likely sounded and acted during sex.

Vocal—gratifyingly so, a total ego boost. He dug his thumbs into her low back.

“That feels sooooo good,” she moaned.

Demanding—better to know than to have to guess and hope you get it right.

“Lower. Right there. Harder.” She let out a deep satisfied breath. “Don't stop.”

An active participant—the very best kind of bed partner.

She rolled her hips and arched her back. “Up a little. No, down.”

He slid his hands up, then down, following her directions.

After her “Aaahhh,” accompanied by a pleasure-filled exhalation, Spencer actually found himself getting a little aroused by it all.

The teacher, a tall, slender, middle-aged woman wearing a lab coat over street clothes, said, “Okay, time to change positions.”