'Oh, I think naming the baby after us will clear the decks,' Roz said casually. 'Especially if it's a boy. Rosalind Stella might be a little hard for him to handle in school, but it's only right.'
'Hey, I was thinking Stella Rosalind.'
Roz arched a brow at Stella. 'This is one of those rare cases when it pays to be the oldest.'
* * *
That night, Hayley tiptoed into the nursery. Just to touch, to smell, to sit in the rocking chair with her hands stroking her belly.
'I'm sorry I've been so nasty lately. I'm better now. We're going to be all right now. You've got two
fairy godmothers, baby. The best women I've ever known. I may not be able to pay them back for all they've done for us, not in some ways. But I swear, there's nothing either of them could ask that I wouldn't do. I feel safe here. It was stupid of me to forget that. We're a team, you and me. I
shouldn't've been afraid of you. Or for you.'
She closed her eyes and rocked. 'I want to hold you in my arms so much they hurt. I want to dress you in one of those cute little outfits and hold you, and smell you, and rock you in this chair. Oh, God, I
hope I know what I'm doing.'
The air turned cold, raising gooseflesh on her arms. But it wasn't fear that had her opening her eyes; it was pity. She stared at the woman who stood beside the crib.
Her hair was down tonight, golden blond and wildly tangled. She wore a white nightgown, muddy at the hem. And there was a look of—Hayley would have said madness—in her eyes.
'You didn't have anyone to help you, did you?' Her hands trembled a bit, but she kept stroking her
belly, kept her eyes on the figure, kept talking.
'Maybe you didn't have anyone to be there with you when you were afraid like I've been. I guess I might've gone crazy, too, all on my own. And I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to my baby. Or how I'd stand it, if something happened to take me away from him—her. Even if I were dead I couldn't stand it. So I guess I understand, a little.'
At her words, Hayley heard a keening sound, a sound that made her think of a soul, or a mind,
shattering.
Then she was alone.
* * *
On Monday, Hayley sat perched on her stool once more. When her back ached, she ignored it. When
she had to call for a relief clerk so she could waddle to the bathroom, again, she made a joke out of it.
Her bladder felt squeezed down to the size of a pea.
On the way back, she detoured outside, not only to stretch her legs and back but to see Stella.
'Is it okay if I take my break now? I want to hunt down Harper and apologize.' She'd spent all morning dreading the moment, but she couldn't put it off any longer. 'He wasn't anywhere to be found on
Sunday, but he's probably back in his cave now.'
'Go ahead. Oh, I just ran into Roz. She called that professor. Dr. Carnegie? She has an appointment to see him later this week. Maybe we'll make some progress in that area.'
Then she narrowed her eyes on Hayley's face. 'I tell you what, one of us is going with you to your doctor's appointment tomorrow. I don't want you driving anymore.'
'I still fit behind the wheel.' Barely.
'That may be, but either Roz or I will take you. And I'm thinking it's time you go part-time.'
'You might as well put me in the loony bin as take work away from me now. Come on, Stella, a lot of women work right up to the end. Besides, I'm sitting on my butt most all day. Best thing about finding Harper is walking.'
'Walk,' Stella agreed. 'Don't lift. Anything.'
'Nag, nag, nag.' But she said it with a laugh as she started toward the grafting house.
Outside the greenhouse she paused. She'd practiced what she wanted to say. She thought it best to think it all through. He'd accept her apology. His mama had raised him right, and from what she'd seen he had a good heart. But she wanted, very much, for him to understand she'd just been in some sort of mood.
She opened the door. She loved the smell in here. Experimentation, possibilities. One day, she hoped either Harper or Roz would teach her something about this end of the growing.
She could see him down at the end, huddled over his work. He had his headphones on and was tapping one foot to whatever beat played in his ears.
God, he was so cute. If she'd met him in the bookstore, before her life had changed, she'd have hit on him, or worked it around so he'd hit on her. All that dark, messed-up hair, the clean line of jaw, the dreamy eyes. And those artistic hands.
She'd bet he had half a dozen girls dangling on a string, and another half dozen waiting in line for a chance.
She started down toward him and was surprised enough to pull up short when his head snapped up, and he swung around to her.
'Christ on a crutch, Harper! I thought I was going to startle you.'
'What? What?' His eyes were dazzled as he dragged off his headset. 'What?'
'I didn't think you could hear me.'
'I—' He hadn't. He'd smelled her. 'Do you need something?'
'I guess I do. I need to say I'm sorry for jumping down your throat every time you opened your mouth the last couple of weeks. I've been an awful bitch.'
'No. Well, yeah. It's okay.'
She laughed and edged closer to try to see what he was doing. It justlooked like he had a bunch of stems tied together. 'I guess I had the jumps. What am I going to do, how am I going to do it? Why do I have
to feel so fat and ugly all the time?'
'You're not fat. You could never be ugly.'
'That's awful nice of you. But being pregnant doesn't affect my eyesight, and I know what I see in the mirror every damn day.'
'Then you know you're beautiful.'
Her eyes sparkled when she smiled. 'I must've been a pitiful case if you're obliged to flirt with a pregnant woman who's got a bad disposition.'
'I'm not—I wouldn't.' He wanted to, at the very least. 'Anyway, I guess you're feeling better.'
'So much better. Mostly I was feeling sorry for myself, and I just hate that poor-me crap. Imagine your mama and Stella throwing me a baby shower. I cried all over myself. Got Stella going, too. But then we had the best time. Who knew a baby shower could rock?' She pressed both hands to her belly and laughed. 'You ever met Stella's step-mama?'
'No.'
'She's just a hoot and a half. I laughed till I thought I'd shoot the baby right out then and there. And
Mrs. Haggerty—'
'Mrs. Haggerty? Our Mrs. Haggerty was there?'
'Not only, but she won the song title game. You have to write down the most song titles with 'baby' in it. You'll never guess one she wrote down.'
'Okay. I give.'
''Baby Got Back.''
Now he grinned. 'Get out. Mrs. Haggerty wrote down a rap song?'
'Then rapped it.'
'Now you're lying.'
'She did. Or at least a couple lines. I nearly peed my pants. But I'm forgetting why I'm here. There you were, just trying to help with the best surprise I ever had, and I was bitching and whining. Crawling up your ass, just like you said. I'm really sorry.'
'It's no big. I have a friend whose wife had a baby a few months ago. I swear you could see fangs growing out of her mouth toward the end. And I think her eyes turned red a couple times.'
She laughed again, pressed a hand to her side. 'I hope I don't get that bad before ...'
