A Baby in the House Read online

  She harrumphed. “Can you believe it? My daughter is fifty-nine years old and she still doesn’t know the difference between a cold and allergies. If I cough, it’s because the pollen count is high. It tickles my throat. It’s been that way ever since I was a child.”

  “That’s why I told you to stay inside in air-conditioning this time of the year,” he said with a gentle wag of his finger.

  “Can’t. Have to take care of my garden.”

  The garden to which she referred was comprised of large pots holding a variety of vegetable plants on her patio. To his amazement, she had cherry tomatoes, radishes, green peppers and even a bean plant, which she’d staked with a yardstick.

  “Don’t they feed you here?” he asked.

  “Of course they do. That isn’t why I have my vegetables and you know it,” she scolded him.

  Yes, he did. On more than one occasion she’d told him that she’d planted her first garden during World War II when Americans were encouraged to grow their own vegetables as a sign of support for the troops. When her husband had been killed in the war, she’d decided to continue the tradition in honor of his memory. She’d been planting her victory garden for over sixty years.

  “I brought you something,” he told her.

  “Not more pills to swallow, I hope.”

  “No, something sweet.”

  That had her setting her watering can down and giving her attention to him. “Ooh. Gingersnaps,” she cooed, when he pulled a box of cookies from his bag and handed them to her. “What do I have to do for them? Take off my clothes?”

  He saw the twinkle in her eye and smiled. “You know me well, Dolly.” Not many of his patients did, but he had a soft spot for this octogenarian with her sharp mind and keen wit.

  “You’re not going to take my word for it that it’s only the pollen, are you, Dr. G.?”

  “I’d like to, but I’m afraid if I don’t give you a clean bill of health, Mavis won’t get any sleep tonight. How about it? Should we put her mind at rest?”

  She hesitated momentarily, then said, “All right. To please Mavis.” She moved slowly but with a gracefulness few women her age possessed. He slid open the patio door for her and followed her inside.

  “You’re not going to make me get back into bed, are you? Once I’m up and dressed, I don’t like to even look at that thing,” she told him with a wave of her hand in the direction of her bed. “Someone around here is always trying to get me to nap. I’m not a nap person. Never was, never will be.”

  He patted the leather chair. “How about sitting right here.”

  Sitting had never been easy for someone as active as Dolly and today was no different than any other time he’d visited her. She squirmed and fidgeted, but he managed to complete the exam and was relieved when he found there was no cause for alarm.

  “Okay, that’ll do it,”’ he said, stuffing his stethoscope back into his bag.

  “I’m as right as rain, aren’t I?”

  “You are. How’s the hip?”

  “The only thing wrong with my hip is that it kept me from getting my hair done yesterday because I had to go to physical therapy,” she grumbled.

  He looked at her white curls. “I thought you said you had your hair done today?”

  “I did. My gal came back this morning. Made a special trip for me. Isn’t she just the sweetest thing?” She didn’t wait for an answer but continued on. “I think you’d like her. She’s pretty. Really pretty.”

  “Now don’t go getting any ideas, Dolly,” he warned.

  “I know better than to do that,” she said with a flap of her wrinkled hand. “Kryssie’s got too many boyfriends the way it is. She gets flowers all the time from this one or that one. They usually end up here…the flowers, that is. She doesn’t want reminders of a bad date.”

  Garret didn’t comment and she continued on, “You wouldn’t be interested in her anyway being you’re not looking to settle down just yet. You have too many things to accomplish.”

  “Yes, I do,” he agreed.

  “Are you still thinking about the Doctors Without Borders program?”

  Because Dolly’s husband had been in the Red Cross, Garret had told her about his interest in doing relief work. She’d shown him journals her husband had kept during his tour of duty overseas and shared stories of what it had been like to be a doctor’s wife during the 1940s. Besides being a very interesting woman, she was easy to talk to and encouraged Garret to use his medical training in whatever way he felt was best.

  “I don’t think I’ll be leaving until after the first of the year,” he told her.

  “I’ll miss seeing you, but I’m happy to share you with the rest of the world,” she said with a gracious smile. “You remind me so much of my husband. Dedicated. Passionate about helping people. A true gentleman.”

  “Thank you. I wish I had known him.”

  “You would have liked him. He was a good man.” A wistful expression came over her face as she talked about him. “We only had a few years together, but they were wonderful years. It’s too bad everyone can’t have a love like ours. There’d be a lot fewer divorces.”

  “You were lucky.”

  “Yes, we were. No amount of time can erase what we had together. True love is like that. It’ll go on forever…” She trailed off, her eyes glassy with a distant expression in them. “Even after all these years I still have so many clear memories. And of course I have Mavis. There is no greater reminder of a love shared than a child. Don’t you agree?”

  “I certainly do. And your daughter should sleep well tonight. Your lungs sound fine, Dolly.”

  “I told you it was only my allergies causing me to cough.”

  “Yes, you did,” he said, snapping his bag shut. “Do you have any questions before I go?”

  “Oh, you’re leaving so soon?” she said, suddenly sounding very childlike. “I was hoping you could stay and talk.”

  “I wish I could, but I have appointments this afternoon. I’m sorry.” His apology couldn’t have been more sincere. It was one of the aspects of his job he wished he could change—there were never enough hours in a day. He regretted not being able to spend more time with his patients and it frustrated him that he had to spend so much of his workday doing paperwork. He wanted to be helping people, which was why he was interested in doing humanitarian work.

  She nodded her head in understanding. “Mavis said you’re the hardest-working doctor at the clinic.”

  “I don’t know about that. All doctors work hard, Dolly.”

  She sighed. “You don’t need to tell me. When you do finally settle down, you’d better make sure it’s with someone who understands that.”

  “Of one thing you can be sure, Dolly, and that’s when I do finally get around to doing just that, you’ll be the first to know.” With that statement, he left her with a smile.

  THE FIRST TIME KRYSTAL HAD walked into 14 Valentine Place she’d felt at home. If houses had personalities—which Krystal believed they did—this one’s was warm and inviting and definitely female, just like its owner, Leonie Donovan.

  Contentment resonated in the polished wood floors and mahogany-trimmed walls. Krystal noticed it every time she stepped through the front door. Her landlady said it was because it had been home to a happy family. Three generations of Donovans had lived in the house and there’d been no divorce, no bitter battles over who owned what, no kids coming and going in split-custody arrangements.

  It was only after Leonie’s husband had died unexpectedly that the big old Victorian structure had been converted into a boardinghouse. Everyone understood why Leonie had decided to rent the rooms to women. She’d raised four sons and had reached a point in her life where she wanted to connect with the feminine side of life.

  Krystal had been one of the first women to rent a room and, like everyone else who would live at 14 Valentine Place, was treated like a member of a family. It was an extended family that included Leonie’s sons, her daughters-in
-law and her grandson. It was a family rich in history, just like the house, and hearing the Donovan brothers talk about their childhoods reminded her how very different their lives had been from hers.

  That’s because home to her had been a series of house trailers, none of them double-wide. What little furniture they’d had was either rented or purchased at a garage sale or flea market. There had been no family heirlooms handed down from generation to generation. While Leonie’s home often smelled of lemon-scented furniture polish, the mobile homes where Krystal had lived had reeked of stale cigarette smoke.

  Not that Krystal had been unhappy with her childhood—she hadn’t. It was just very different from the one the Donovan boys had experienced, and not just because they lived in a house with a concrete foundation and plaster walls.

  She’d grown up in a house of women. She’d never known her father, she didn’t have a brother and she seldom saw her grandfather. If her mother had men friends, she and her sister Carly never saw them.

  Krystal knew it was because she was trying to be a good role model for her daughters. To Linda Graham, the most important lesson she could teach her daughters was not to make the same mistakes she had. She’d had not one but two teen pregnancies, and she’d made it clear that she wanted her daughters to have a different life than she’d had. It was why she had imposed such strict rules when it came to dating.

  No matter how hard Krystal and Carly had tried to convince her they were teenagers who could be trusted, their mother had refused to allow them to date until they were seniors in high school. Both had thought their mother was unfair, but only Krystal had rebelled against her authority, willing to risk punishment for a chance at romance.

  The strict rules may have been a good parenting tactic in Linda Graham’s eyes, but to Krystal they had only created distance in their mother-daughter relationship. Her love life became a frequent source of conflict between them that continued into her late teens and early twenties.

  It was one of the reasons Krystal had been eager to move out of Fergus Falls. Besides the limited employment opportunities, the town was small enough that it was difficult to keep her personal relationships private. And as long as she lived there, she felt as if her mother was looking over her shoulder into her love life.

  Until she moved into 14 Valentine Place, she’d thought most mothers were probably like hers—critical of whomever their children dated. Then she met Leonie. Even though her landlady was a romance coach, she seldom interfered in her sons’ love lives.

  Leonie rarely gave anyone unsolicited advice, yet she was always there for moral support when it was needed. Not only did she encourage the young women who rented rooms from her to feel free to come to her if they wanted to talk about relationships, she designated the living room in the house as the great room where discussions of men and romance became a regular occurrence. It wasn’t long before Krystal came to regard Leonie as a second mother, only with this mother she could talk about everything and anything.

  At least she had been able to until a few weeks ago. Now that aspect of their relationship had changed. Krystal had made a mistake. A big mistake. And it was one she was reluctant to admit to anyone, and especially to her mother and Leonie.

  Instead she would keep it secret. Not easy for someone who usually blurted out whatever was on her mind. Worried that Leonie would be able to detect that she was keeping something from her, Krystal did her best to avoid seeing her landlady.

  Today, however, was Tuesday, which meant Leonie wouldn’t be at home. She’d be teaching a class on the dos and don’ts of dating at the community center and that meant the only other person in the boardinghouse would be Dena Bailey, since the third-floor apartment was still vacant.

  As she expected, Dena was in the kitchen. When she saw Krystal she said, “Oh good! You’re home. I was hoping I’d see you.” She motioned for Krystal to come sit beside her. “Come join me for a glass of lemonade.”

  Krystal shook her head. “I’ll pass on the lemonade, thanks.” She did go over to the refrigerator, however, to get a bottle of water. When she opened the door, the aroma of the leftover parmesan chicken she’d had the night before nearly caused her to bolt toward the bathroom. She didn’t understand how something could taste so good warm yet smell so bad cold that it made her wish she’d never gone near it.

  But then so many things made her stomach queasy. Like when she was in an elevator and someone stepped in wearing perfume. Or the pungent smell of gasoline at the service station. Or the tiny bit of oatmeal left in Leonie’s bowl each morning.

  Krystal shuddered and willed her stomach to settle itself. When she sat down at the table, she saw Dena had a bridal magazine spread open in front of her.

  “What’s up with that? I thought you and Quinn were going to elope.”

  “I thought we were, too, but then we sat down to make plans and before I knew it, we’d reserved the church and booked the reception hall. It’s amazing what that guy can talk me into.”

  “Must be the power of love,” Krystal remarked, noting the glow on Dena’s cheeks. “So when’s this big day going to happen?”

  “September sixth.” Seeing Krystal’s jaw drop open, she quickly added, “I know, it doesn’t give us much time, but we’ve hired a wedding coordinator who assures us it’s possible. Still, I feel as if I have too much to do.”

  “I would think so. Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Actually, there is. You could be one of my bridesmaids.”

  The invitation caught Krystal by surprise. “You want me to be in the wedding?”

  Dena nodded and looked at her expectantly, waiting for her response, only Krystal didn’t know what to say. “That is so sweet of you to ask me, but…” She paused, searching for the right words to decline without hurting Dena’s feelings.

  “But I shouldn’t have asked because we haven’t been friends all that long,” Dena finished for her, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Krystal. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

  Krystal reached for her hand. “You didn’t. I’m honored that you asked me. The fact that you did says a lot about our friendship.”

  “But you still don’t want to do it.”

  “I want to, but…” She hated to bring up the subject, but knew she had no choice. “You know I’m pregnant.”

  Dena gave her a blank look. “Yeah, so what?”

  “So all eyes are supposed to be on you, the bride. By September sixth I’m going to be just far enough along that people will be wondering if I’m having a baby or if I’m just getting fat. You don’t need that kind of distraction at your wedding.”

  “Have you been talking to Maddie? She’s worried about the same thing and I’m going to tell you what I told her. It doesn’t matter if your belly sticks out like a watermelon, which it won’t. I want you to be in my wedding.”

  Maddie Donovan was a dear friend to both of them. Although she’d already married Leonie’s son Dylan and moved to France before Dena had moved into 14 Valentine Place, her friendship with Dena went back to their college days when they’d been roommates. Had it not been for Maddie, Dena wouldn’t have rented her old room at the boardinghouse and she and Krystal wouldn’t have become friends.

  “Is Maddie going to be in the wedding?” Krystal asked.

  “Yes. I convinced her that I had found the perfect dress to cover what she refers to her as her walrus-shaped body, although I can’t imagine Maddie looking anything but gorgeous no matter how much weight she gains.”

  “Are there dresses that can hide pregnant tummies?”

  “Actually, there are.” She thumbed through the magazine until she’d found the page she wanted, then shoved it toward Krystal. “Look at this plum one. See how high the waistline is? It’s perfect for you and Maddie…and my sister-in-law, Lisa, too. She’s going to be my matron of honor, and having had three kids, she also wants to hide her bulges.”

  “Don’t dresses in these magazines take months to order?” />
  “Not a problem. Quinn’s sister has a friend who works in a bridal shop and she says she can put a rush on them and get them in time, but I do need to get moving on this, which is why I really need an answer from you…like today.” She gave her an apologetic grin.

  Krystal wanted to say yes. Dena had only lived across the hall from her for six months, yet in that time they’d become good friends. She also liked Dena’s fiancé Quinn, who was the only man Leonie had allowed to live upstairs. A close friend of the family he had become like a brother to Krystal, as well.

  “Would it make it any easier for you to say yes if I said you could bring Roy as your date?” Dena asked when she continued to deliberate.

  “Good grief, no!” Her response was forceful enough that Dena apologized.

  “I guess that means you haven’t worked things out.”

  “No, and we aren’t going to.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought…with the baby…” She trailed off, looking a bit self-conscious.

  Krystal reached across and gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I should have told you before now that Roy isn’t the father of my baby.”

  Dena tried not to look shocked, but Krystal knew she was. Although she’d dated many men, Roy had been the only serious relationship she’d had since living at 14 Valentine Place. It was only natural that people would expect that she was carrying his child. Krystal knew it was what most of her friends would think when they learned of her pregnancy.

  “Have you told the father?” Dena asked in a quiet voice.

  Krystal shook her head. “Not yet. I want to, but it’s complicated.” She wished she could tell her just how complicated it was, but she couldn’t. Not with the wedding only weeks away.

  “Well, if there’s anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right?”

  Krystal nodded. “Thanks for caring, but I’m afraid the only thing you can do is not mention to anyone that I’m pregnant.”

  Dena held up her hand. “That goes without saying. I won’t say a word.”

  “What about Quinn? He was the one who found my home pregnancy test in the bathroom,” she reminded her.