Beauty and the Baby
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Marie Ferrarella
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15,9K
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12
Chapter One
“You look tired,” Carson O’Neill said.
Lifting her head, his sister-in-law smiled at him in response. Carson watched the dimples in both cheeks grow deeper. He wasn’t a man who ordinarily noticed dimples. Involved in his work, he noticed very little these days.
But, in almost an unconscious way, he had become aware of a great many things about Lori O’Neill ever since fate and his late brother, Kurt, had sent the woman his way.
Ever since Carson could remember, he’d been a caretaker. It wasn’t something he just decided to do one day, wasn’t even something he admitted wanting to do. It was just something that needed doing, a hard fact of life. Like the way he’d looked after his mother after his father had left. And the way he’d always looked out for his younger brother. Or tried to.
And the way he’d wound up here, the director of St. Augustine’s Teen Center, a place that had too many kids and too little money, but was somehow—thanks to his all but superhuman efforts—still beating the odds and staying open.
Carson picked up a basketball that had whacked him against the back of his calves a second ago and tossed it toward a boy whose head barely came up to his chest. The boy flashed a sudden grin and ran off with his retrieved prize. As always, there was a game in progress.
His responsibilities weren’t something he’d sought out. They’d just been there, waiting for him to walk in and take over. On his father’s departure, his mother had all but become a basket case, so, at fifteen, Carson had become the family’s driving force.
It wasn’t easy. Kurt had been a screwup, albeit an incredibly charming one, and he’d loved Kurt, so he had done his best to help him out, to set him straight. Done his best to be there with silent support and not so silent money whenever the occasion had called for it. Which, as time progressed, was often.
Despite all Carson’s efforts to set his brother on the right road, Kurt had managed to kill himself in his search for speed. “Death by motorcycle,” the newspaper had glibly reported on the last page in the section that dealt with local news.
Kurt’s death, a year after his mother’s, should have freed him from the role of patriarch, but it hadn’t. There was Lori to think of. Somehow, it seemed only natural that he should take Kurt’s pregnant wife under his wing.
Not that Lori had asked.
She was an independent, spirited woman, which was what he’d liked about her. But she was also pregnant and, after Kurt’s untimely death, faced with a mountain of Kurt’s debts.
The old adage, “When it rained, it poured,” was never truer than in Lori’s case. Less than a month after Kurt’s death, the company for which Lori worked as a graphic artist declared bankruptcy, leaving her jobless. Carson found himself stepping in with both feet.
He’d stepped in the same way when he’d heard that the youth center, where he and Kurt had spent their adolescent afternoons, was about to close its doors because there was no one to take over as director and precious little financing.
His ex-wife, Jaclyn, had called him a bleeding heart when he’d told her he was leaving his law firm and taking over the helm at St. Augustine’s Teen Center. He had discovered that being a lawyer left him cold and gave him no sense of satisfaction. Very quickly it had become just a means to an end. An end that had pleased Jaclyn a great deal, but not him. He’d needed more. He’d needed meaning.
The abrupt change in his life’s direction had left her far from pleased. She had screamed at him, calling him a fool. Calling him a great many other things as well. He hadn’t realized that she’d known those kinds of words until she’d hurled them at him.
The last label had been a surprise, though. She’d called him a bleeding heart. It showed how little, after five years of marriage, she really knew about him. He was pragmatic, not emotional. Taking over at the center had been something that needed doing, for so many reasons.
Besides, his heart didn’t bleed, it didn’t feel anything at all. Especially not after Jaclyn had left, taking their two-year-old daughter with them. His heart only functioned. Just as he did.
Just as Lori did, he thought, looking at her now. Except that she did it with verve. He motioned her to his office just down the narrow hall beyond the gym. The girls, whose game Lori had been refereeing, watched her for a moment, then went on without her.
He closed the door behind Lori, then indicated the chair in front of his scarred desk, a desk that was a far cry from the expensive one he’d been sitting behind three years ago.
Ordinarily, Lori seemed tireless to him, almost undaunted by anything that life threw her way. The only time he’d ever seen her be anything other than upbeat was at Kurt’s funeral.
But even then, she’d seemed more interested in comforting him. Not that he’d allowed that, of course. He was his own person, his own fortress. It was the way it had always been and the way it would always be. He was who he was. A loner. Carson knew he couldn’t be any other way even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t.
“What?” Lori finally pressed.
She tried to read her brother-in-law’s expression and failed. Nothing new there. Carson had always seemed inscrutable. Not like Kurt. She could always tell what Kurt was thinking if she looked into his eyes for more than a moment. Usually, he was trying to hide something.
“I’ve been watching you,” Carson told her. “You seem tired today,” he repeated.
Lori shook her head, denying the observation. She prided herself on being able to soldier on, no matter what. These days, however, the weight of her backpack was steadily increasing. Especially since she was carrying it in front of her.
“No, I’m not tired. Just a wee bit overwhelmed by all that energy out there.” She nodded toward the area right outside the closetlike room that served as the youth center’s general office. There were a few small rooms around the perimeter, but the center’s main focus was the gym. It was there that the kids who frequented the center worked out their aggression and their tension.
Then, with a sigh, she slowly lowered herself into the chair in front of his desk, trying not to think about the daunting task of getting up again. She’d face that in a minute or so. Right now, it felt really good to be able to sit down.
Maybe she was tired at that, Lori thought. But she didn’t like the idea that she showed it.
Just beyond the door were the sounds of kids letting off steam, channeling energy into something productive instead of destructive. Kids who, but for Carson’s concentrated efforts, would have no place to go except into trouble.
She looked at her brother-in-law with affection. Carson had given up the promise of a lucrative life so that others could have a shot at having a decent one. Lori knew that these kids, every one of them, could have been Kurt or Carson all those years ago. Her late husband had told her all about his younger years on their second date, giving her details that had chilled her heart. Life had been hard here.
Both brothers had managed to come a long way from these mean streets, although it was easy enough for her to see that Kurt’s soul had been anchored in the quick, the easy, the sleight of hand that arose from living the kinds of lives that were an everyday reality for the kids who came to St. Augustine’s Youth Center. In a way, Kurt had never left that wild boy behind. It was that wild boy, she thought, that had eventually killed her husband.
Carson was another matter. Levelheaded, steadfast, Carson had chosen to walk on the straight and narrow safe side. He’d worked hard, put himself through school as he took care of his younger brother and mother. A football scholarship had helped. He’d believed his destiny lay with becoming a lawyer. He’d worked even harder once he’d graduated. A prestigious law firm had offered him a position and in exchange, he gave the firm his all.
Until three years ago. Thirty-eight months to be exact. That was when her brother-in-law had made the most selfless sacrifice she’d ever witnessed. He’d left the firm he’d been with to take on the headaches of the youth center that had been his salvation. But it hadn’t been without a price.
Carson had taken on burdens and lost a wife.
Kurt had been against the move. He’d told his older brother that leaving the firm was the dumbest thing a grown man could do. All of his life, he’d struggled to get them both away from this very neighborhood and now he was returning to it. Embracing it at a great personal and financial cost.
It had made no sense to Kurt. But then, Kurt didn’t understand what it meant to sacrifice. He’d never been that selfless. That had always been Carson’s department.
And Carson was Carson, steadfast once he made a decision, unmoved by arguments, pleas or taunts, all of which had come from his wife before she’d packed up and left with their two-year-old daughter. Leaving him with divorce papers.
Lori knew losing his little girl had been what had hit Carson the hardest, although you’d never know it by anything that was ever said. But then, ever since she’d met him, Carson had always played everything close to the vest.
It was a wonder his chest wasn’t crushed in by the weight, she mused now, looking at him. His desk was piled high with paperwork, which he hated. The man took a lot on himself. Would have taken her on as well if she’d allowed it. Again, that was just his way.
But she wasn’t about to become another one of his burdens. She was a person, not a helpless rag doll. After Kurt’s death, she’d squared her shoulders and forced herself to push on. To persevere. There were plenty of single mothers out there. She’d just joined the ranks, that was all. She’d taken this job only after Carson proved to her that it hadn’t been offered out of charity, but because he really needed someone to help him out. It wasn’t the kind of work she was used to, but it and the Lamaze classes she taught helped pay the bills. And they would do until something better came along.
Lori reasoned that as long as she kept good thoughts, eventually something better had to come along.
“You’re also more than a little pregnant,” Carson pointed out. The sun was shining into the room. There were telltale circles beneath her eyes. She wasn’t getting enough sleep, he thought. “Maybe you should take it easier on yourself. Go home, Lori.”
But she shook her head. “Can’t. Rhonda didn’t show up today, remember?”
He frowned. Rhonda Adams was one of the assistants who helped out at the center. Rhonda hadn’t been showing up a lot lately. Something else he had to look into. Trouble was, finding someone to work long hours for little pay wasn’t the easiest thing in the world.
“That’s my concern,” he told Lori, “not yours.”
She hated the way he could turn a phrase and shut her out. She wondered if he did it intentionally, or if he was just oblivious to the effect of his words. “It is while you sign my paychecks.”
“I don’t sign your paychecks, the foundation does,” he corrected. Foundation money and donations were what kept the teen center going, but times had gotten very tight.
Her eyes met his. He wasn’t about to brush her off. “Figure of speech, Counselor.”
“Don’t call me that, I’m not a lawyer anymore.” Maybe he was getting a little too crabby these days. And he wasn’t even sure why. Carson backed off.
She looked at him pointedly. “Then stop sounding like one.”
“I’m serious, Lori. Don’t tire yourself out. You are pregnant, even if you don’t look it.” His eyes swept over her form. Petite, the pert blue-eyed blonde was small-boned and if you looked quickly, her slightly rounded shape looked to be a trick played by some wayward breeze that had sneaked into the drafty gymnasium and had snuggled in beneath her blouse, billowing it out.
Lori looked down at her stomach. She’d felt pregnant from what she judged was the very first moment of conception. Somehow, she’d known, just known that there was something different that set this time apart from all the other times she and Kurt had made love.
Carson’s words to the contrary, she felt huge. “Thanks,” she quipped. “But right now, I feel as if I look like I’m smuggling a Thanksgiving turkey out of the building.”
His mouth curved ever so slightly. “Looks to me like there’s going to be a lot of people going hungry at that Thanksgiving dinner,” he commented. He looked at her stomach again, trying to remember. “You’re what, seven months along?”
“Eight, but who’s counting?” she murmured.
She was, Lori added silently. Counting down every moment between now and her delivery date, fervently wishing that there was more time. More time in which to get ready for this colossal change that was coming into her life.
No one talking to her would have guessed at her true feelings. She was determined to keep up a brave front. She had to because of the Lamaze classes she taught at Blair Memorial Hospital twice a week. The women who attended them all looked to her as a calming influence, especially the three single moms-to-be with whom she’d bonded. She smiled to herself. If the women she was instructing only knew that her nerves were doing a frenzied dance inside of her every time she thought of the pending arrival, they wouldn’t find her influence so calming.
She missed seeing the three women who had made up the group she’d whimsically dubbed The Mom Squad. But C.J., Joanna and Sherry’s due dates were now in the past. The three all had beautiful, healthy babies now, and, by an odd turn of events, they also now had men at their sides who loved them. Men who wanted to spend the rest of their lives with them.
All she had were Kurt’s pile of debts, which were dwindling thanks to her own tireless efforts, but none too quickly.
Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Lori upbraided herself. You also have Carson.
She glanced at the man who looked like a sterner, older version of her late husband. She wasn’t about to minimize the effect of having him in her life. Having her brother-in-law’s support went a long way toward helping her get her world in order.
Not that she leaned on him—well, not so that he really noticed. But just knowing he was around if she needed him meant a great deal to her. Carson had offered her a job helping at the center when her company had left her almost as high and dry as Kurt’s death had. And he’d also been instrumental in pulling strings and getting her the job teaching the Lamaze classes at Blair.
That and the freelance work she found as a graphic designer helped her make ends meet. More importantly, it kept her sane. Kept her grief at bay. Kurt had never been a steady, dependable man, but in her own way, she’d loved him a great deal. Forgiven him a great deal, even his inability to grow up and take on responsibilities. Even the dalliances she’d discovered. It had taken her time, though, to forgive him his death.
She was still working on it.
Kurt had had no business racing like that, no business wanting to shake his fist at death just one more time because it made himself feel more powerful. Not when he had her and a baby on the way.
She sighed quietly. That had been Kurt—thoughtless, but engaging. At times, though, it had worn a little thin.
“Eight?” Carson echoed.
She looked at him, her thoughts dissipating. Carson had forgotten, she thought. But then, there were a lot more important things on his mind than her pregnancy. Like constantly searching for funding.
“You’re that far along?”
She tried not to laugh at his incredulous expression. “You make it sound like a terminal disease.”
Broad shoulders rose and fell in a vague fashion. “I guess I just didn’t realize…” An idea came to him suddenly. “I can have you placed on disability—” He didn’t know where he’d find the money, but something could be arranged.
Lori knew what he was trying to do. Contrary to her ex-sister-in-law’s beliefs, Carson’s heart was in the right place, but in her book, what he was proposing was nothing short of charity.
“I’m not disabled,” she countered.
He heard the stubborn tone in her voice. Admirable though her independence was, there were times when his sister-in-law could be a mule. Like now. “Yeah, I know, but technically maternity leave doesn’t start until after you give birth.”
It was her turn to shrug. “So, I’ll stick around until I give birth.”
“You should be home, Lori, taking care of yourself.”
Carson didn’t see what the problem was, or why she had him fighting a war on two fronts, one to get her a paid leave and one to get her to actually leave. When Jaclyn had been pregnant, she’d insisted on having a woman come in and do all the chores that she didn’t normally do anyway. After Sandy was born, Hannah had stayed on to care for the house and the baby.
Jaclyn had always maintained that she was too delicate to put up with the drudgery of routine. He’d indulged her because he’d loved her and because she was his wife, his responsibility.
And because he’d been crazy about their child.
In hindsight, Hannah had taken care of Sandy better than Jaclyn ever could. Carson didn’t mind paying for that. There was nothing too good for Sandy.
“I am taking care of myself,” Lori insisted. She was accustomed to looking after herself. She’d been on her own since she was twenty. Even after she’d met Kurt, she’d been the one to take care of him, not the other way around. “If I stayed at home with my feet up, I’d go crazy inside of a week. Three days, probably.” She smiled at Carson, appreciating his concern but determined not to let him boss her around. “Haven’t you heard, Counselor? Work is therapeutic. Speaking of which, I’d better be getting back. There’s a basketball game I’m supposed to be refereeing.”
Bracing herself, she placed a hand on either wooden armrest and pushed herself up. The movement was a little too sudden, a little too fast. Lori’s head started to spin.
The walls darkened. The small room began to close in on her.
A tiny pinprick of panic scratched her skin.
Lori struggled against the encroaching darkness, struggled to push the walls back out again. The effort was futile. The walls turned all black as they raced toward her with a frightening speed.
Perspiration beaded along her forehead.
And then there was nothing.
The next thing Lori knew, she felt herself being jerked up. Someone’s arms were closing around her. There was heat everywhere, swirling about her.
She realized her eyes were shut.
With a mighty effort, she pushed them open again and found herself looking up into Carson’s dark blue, solemn eyes. They were darker than Kurt’s eyes had been. And far more serious.
Lori tried to smile. Even that took effort. He was holding her. Holding her very close. Was that why it felt so hot all of a sudden?
Because he looked so concerned, she forced herself to sound light. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that if you scowl so hard, your face’ll freeze that way?”
“My mother told me very little,” he told her, his voice monotone.
She’d given him one hell of a scare, fainting like that. He had no idea what to think, what to do, other than to feel utterly helpless. Somebody needed to hand out instruction booklets when it came to women. Maybe even an entire desk encyclopedia.
Carson carried her over to the sagging, rust-colored leather sofa and placed her down as gently as he could manage.
His brow furrowed as he looked at her. “You want me to call a doctor?”
She caught hold of Carson’s hand in case he had any ideas about acting on his question. “No, I want you to stop looking as if I’m about to explode any second.”
His eyes were drawn to the small bump in her abdomen that represented his future niece or nephew. It was easy to forget Lori was pregnant at times. She looked so small. How could there be another human being inside of her?
Still, eight months was eight months. “Well, aren’t you?”
She placed her other hand protectively over her abdomen. She could feel her baby moving. It always created a feeling of awe within her. Three months of kicking and shifting and she still hadn’t gotten used to the sensation.
“No,” she assured him, using the same tranquil, patient voice she used in the Lamaze classes, “not at the moment. Pregnant women faint, Carson.” She used his hand to draw herself up into a sitting position. And then slowly to her feet. He hovered protectively around her. “It’s one of the few pleasures left to them.” Her smile was meant to put him at ease. “Don’t worry about it.”
His arm was around her, just in case her knees failed again. “Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”
She flashed a grin at him. “Maybe that’s what keeps me going.”
He knew her well enough to know there was no winning. “At least let me drive you home.”
Lori shook her head. “I brought my car.”
“So?” Carson didn’t see the problem. “I’ll drive that.”
She cocked her head, looking at him. The man was a dear. “Then how will you get back?”
He bit back an oath. “Do you have to overthink everything?”
“Can’t help it.” Her eyes sparkled as she smiled more broadly at him. “Must be the company I keep.” She took a deep cleansing breath, then released it slowly, just as she’d demonstrated countless times in class. “There, all better. Really.” But as she tried to walk away, she found that he was still holding her. Still unwilling to allow her to leave on her own power.
She was standing less than an inch away from him. Feeling things she didn’t think that women in her condition were capable of feeling. At least not about men who weren’t responsible for getting them into this condition in the first place.
