The Second Time Around

Jeannie waved her hand at the words. “Besides that. Those are givens.”

Laurel paused for a moment, thinking. Examining. She raised her eyes to Jeannie’s. “Happy, I guess. Scared.” Despite the fact that they were alone in the front office, she lowered her voice in case Callaghan entered in. “I mean, when I had the others, my body was pretty resilient. Back then, my skin bounced back.” She looked down sadly at her flat stomach, knowing that was just a temporary state. “This time around I might end up looking like a stretched-out alligator bag by the time all this is over.”

“Not you, Laurel. If I know you, you’ll be exercising right through the whole ordeal.” Realizing that the word had the wrong connotation, she corrected herself. “I mean, experience.”

They’d been friends too long to start pretending now. “No, you got it right the first time. Ordeal’s the right word for all this.” Laurel sighed, shaking her head. Thinking of the months ahead. The distended stomach, the swelling of every part of her that made rings and shoes too tight. As for the clothes…“I’m going to have to get all new clothes,” she realized suddenly. “I gave away the last of my maternity clothes after Christopher was born and we decided that three kids were just about as far as we wanted to go.”

Jeannie chuckled. She reached over and patted Laurel’s hand. “Well, looks like you’re going to have to go shopping, girl.” As always, she focused on the bright side. “Shopping’s fun. They’ve got a lot cuter clothes now for pregnant women than when we were at that stage. Originally,” she tactfully added. “Wendy and I went shopping just the other Saturday,” she went on, mentioning her five-months-pregnant daughter. “I can take you to this new boutique—”

Laurel held up a hand. She wasn’t ready to start thinking about buying maternity clothes yet. According to the doctor’s scale, she was three pounds lighter than she was when she’d come in for her last checkup. “This isn’t another excuse for shopping.”

“Sure it is. Everything’s an excuse for shopping.” Jeannie adored shopping. It had long since been decided that Jonas, an actuary with a major insurance company, was the breadwinner of the family. Her salary went for the frivolous, non-essentials. Once in a while, there was something in it for Jonas. “Shopping is therapeutic, and it helps the economy.” She drew herself up as if delivering a proclamation. “Shopping is almost a patriotic duty.”

Laurel grinned as she shook her head. “You should have been a lawyer.”

Jeannie tossed her head. Newly colored strawberry-blond tresses bounced over her ample shoulders. “I thought about it, but there was too much studying involved. Selling houses is a lot more fun.” She leaned in, her voice lowering. “Have you told anyone else yet?”

Laurel shook her head again. She’d thought about it, several times. Had even reached for the phone more than once last night. But ultimately, her courage had flagged. “Not yet.”

Jeannie looked at her, puzzled. “Mother, sister, sons?”

The answer didn’t change. “No.”

“Why?” Confusion gave way to suspicion. “Are you thinking of—?”

“No,” Laurel cut her off, not wanting to even hear the option mentioned. By the end of yesterday afternoon, she’d firmly made up her mind to have this baby. Full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes. “I’m not. I just don’t have the oomph to go through this five separate times and face those surprised, skeptical and maybe disapproving looks five times over.”

Jeannie’s solution was simple. “So, don’t.”

That didn’t solve anything. “Right. And what, just tell them I’m gaining all this weight around my middle because my metabolism suddenly decided to die?”

“No, tell them all at once. The whole family. Five with one blow. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. It’ll be quick. Just call a family meeting, or whatever it is those gatherings are called. That way, if someone in the group starts asking you what the hell you were thinking, hopefully someone else will jump in to your defense and tell them where to put their opinions.”

The thought made Laurel laugh. Jeannie always had that effect on her. Nothing every fazed her. “Safety in numbers, huh?”

“That’s about the size of it.”

Laurel thought about it for a moment. She knew that Christopher had classes, but he was free in the evening, as were her other two sons. Her mother was busy with her clubs, but she could set aside a few minutes for her oldest born. And as for Lynda, well, she didn’t do much of anything except go to work and come home these days. She was still reeling from her divorce, something that had come upon her totally out of left field.

All five at once. She liked the idea, Laurel thought. It would be a lot easier this way. “Maybe you have something there.”

“Of course I do,” Jeannie answered cheerfully. “Haven’t you noticed? I’m brilliant.” The sound of a small bell was heard ringing. They both looked over toward the front door. A lone man entered. “Speaking of being brilliant, looks like we’ve got ourselves a live one. Why don’t you take him?”

They each took turns with clients. She’d been up yesterday afternoon before she’d gone in for the exam that changed everything. “Isn’t it your turn for the walk-in?”

“Yeah, but I’m feeling generous. Consider it your first baby present.” She looked back at the handsome stranger. He was standing near the door, his hands clasped behind his back as he glanced from photograph to photograph. “Besides, I’ve got a feeling he’s just interested in getting the lay of the land, so to speak.” Her lips twitched. “If he were serious, he would have sent his wife ahead first.”

“Maybe he doesn’t have a wife.”

Jeannie pretended to reconsider. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given him away so fast.”

“Too late,” Laurel said, rising to her feet. Sparing her friend one last grin, Laurel walked toward the potential client.

Tall, tanned, with a beautiful thick head of almost black hair with a few distinguished strands of gray, the man was wearing a pair of crisply ironed navy slacks and a striking blue shirt beneath his sports jacket. The shirt was just vivid enough to bring out his eyes. He was examining the array of properties currently up for sale as displayed on the long bulletin board.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Laurel asked as she approached him.

He turned toward her after a beat, pausing just long enough to finish reading the description beneath one of the houses. The smile that came to his lips as he saw her spoke of many things. Houses was not among them.

Laurel felt something electric shoot through her.

“I can think of a few.”

His voice, low and rhythmic, was vaguely familiar. But it was like a fleeting thought that wouldn’t allow itself to be pinned down. The man’s voice probably reminded her of someone else, she decided.

She put on her most cheerful customer-friendly face. “Are you looking for a house?”

“That would be why I’m here,” he replied, amusement highlighting his features.

“To buy or rent?”

“To buy. I always buy.”

It was probably her imagination, but she could have sworn he was looking at her as if she were a property he was considering owning.

CHAPTER 7

There was nothing going on, Laurel silently insisted the next moment. Just more of her hormones going berserk. The man was merely looking at her, nothing more.

“Sounds promising,” she heard herself saying. “Just what did you have in mind?”

The prospective buyer’s eyes swept over her, seemingly taking measure of her from head to foot. “Something nice.”

Okay, maybe she wasn’t imagining it. The man was obviously kibitzing. Out to kill a few hours for whatever reason. And she wasn’t all that sure she liked what he was thinking—even though a small part of her was flattered and the truth of it was, she was desperate for a compliment.

Just a sign of things to come, the little voice in her head taunted.

Laurel could remember the tail end of each of her three pregnancies, when she felt as if she was doomed to be eternally round and distended. Eternally fat. She could remember being desperate for someone to look at her eyes when they spoke to her instead of her stomach. Even more desperate for a kind word about her appearance that didn’t include the phrase “You’re positively glowing” in it. Every pregnant woman knew that wasn’t glow—that was sweat from being forced to carry around so much extra weight.

“I’m afraid that you’re going to have to be a little more specific, Mr.—” Laurel stopped abruptly, realizing she’d neglected something. Three weeks pregnant and she was getting forgetful already. “I’m sorry, you never told me your name.”

“Manning,” he told her. “Robert Manning.” He said it using the same cadence that James Bond employed whenever he introduced himself to someone.

Her eyes narrowed as the name nudged something in the back of her brain. Just as his voice had. What was it she was trying to remember?

Rather than drive herself crazy, she tucked the thought away and put her hand out. “I’m Laurel Mitchell.”

Strong tanned fingers enveloped hers. And held her hand a beat longer than was comfortable. He was staring into her eyes as if he was searching for something. Or someone.