“She’s doing as well as can be expected,” Claire told him during this latest call. “But you know our Julia. She’s determined to martyr herself for Charles’s condition.”
“Damn it, why won’t she at least get in touch with me?” Luke could barely keep the frustration from his voice. “Maybe I could find some way to help her.”
“Luke.” Claire’s voice was quiet. “You’re the only happiness Julia’s found after nine years of emotional hell. She’s consumed with guilt about it. Unreasonably, she wants to blame this whole mess on what she calls her selfish indulgence.”
“Ridiculous,” he snapped.
“I know. But there it is.” Claire was silent a moment. “I’ve talked until I’m blue in the face. But she’s trying to bolster the twins as well as herself.”
“I’ve half a mind to just get on a plane and show up.” He had to force back the anguish consuming him.
“Please don’t. She’d crack and fall apart.”
“Just keep me in the loop, okay?”
More than anything, he wished it was possible for him to be there to hold her in his arms and soothe away the pain. If only she would call him or take one of his calls. He wanted to smash something, throw something, rant and rave. He hated the fact she blamed herself for this, as if the brief happiness they’d shared was undeserved.
He closed his eyes, remembering the silken feel of her skin, the delicate floral scent she wore, the velvety texture of her hair.
God, how he missed her.
Chapter 11
Pregnant!
Julia lay on the examining table in the doctor’s office, listening to the confirmation of her own fears. She’d done whatever she could do to get through the holiday season, hoping afterward she’d begin to feel better. When she didn’t, pestered by both Miranda and Claire, she finally called her doctor. Except by then she was sure of the diagnosis. Something she should have known right away. The immediate and constant nausea, the dragging fatigue, every one of the symptoms mirrored those with the twins almost from the moment of conception.
“No question, Mrs. Patterson.” Dr. Berlin looked up from the foot of the table. “A little less than two months. Does that jibe with your calculations?”
Unfortunately, yes.
“Mrs. Patterson?” he repeated.
“I’m sorry. Yes. Yes, it does.”
“Well, I hope this is good news. I know you were disappointed when you couldn’t take the birth control pills, but usually we have pretty good luck with the coil.” He chuckled slightly. “Although they do fail once in a while.”
“Well, it seems this is one of those times,” she told him.
“You’ll need to be cautious,” he told her. “Miscarriage is sometimes a problem with the coil in place. No strenuous exercise and, I hate to tell you, no sexual activity. I hope your husband won’t mind too much.”
“I can assure you that won’t be a problem. My husband has suffered a severe heart attack and his health isn’t good.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” He paused. “Is the situation such you might consider terminating the pregnancy? This may not be the best time for you to be giving birth.”
“No!” She nearly shouted the word. “No,” she repeated more quietly, “that’s not a consideration.” She touched her abdomen as if to protect the growing child from harm.
“I’ll take your word for it. But if you do change your mind, you’ll need to decide soon.”
“I won’t be changing my mind, Dr. Berlin.”
“Fine, then.” He stood up and reached out his hand to help her sit up on the table. “I don’t need to tell you what to do, but because you’re past thirty, we’ll want to watch you a little more carefully this time.”
“I understand. I’ll do my best.” And how exactly would she accomplish this under the circumstances?
“Make your next appointment on the way out. You’re nearly through the first trimester and I’d like to see you every two weeks from here until the ninth month.”
Julia was still in shock when she climbed behind the steering wheel of her car. She’d suspected as much with the nausea then the first missed period, but initially chalked it up to stress. There was certainly plenty to go around. She rested her hand against her lower abdomen. A child! Luke’s child! Something of his she would always have to cherish.
How the hell was this going to play out with Charles? God! Could things possibly get any worse?
She had stopped visiting him every day. There was only so much she could tolerate. She believed he’d be grateful for her absence. Instead, when she made herself show up, he lectured her on the propriety of appearances. What would people say? What would they think? She wanted to tell him she didn’t give a damn about any of that. She was sick to death of him and his family and his friends. If he’d just sign the damn divorce papers she’d be out of his hair and he could tell everyone whatever he wanted. She didn’t care. Harry assured her the financial settlement was ironclad so she could rest assured the children would be provided for.
Now she knew for sure she couldn’t talk to Luke. If he knew she was pregnant, he’d be here on the next plane and try to take charge of the situation. There’d be holy hell to pay, with Rod McGuire leading the charge. Luke had thought his ex-wife’s behavior would scandalize his employers and affect his job. Rod and the Pattersons would make that seem like child’s play.
Needing time to absorb her situation, she drove to her favorite café, ordered a pot of tea and the butter cookies she loved, and spent an hour examining her situation. A combination of dread and elation filled her. A good plot for a movie: marriage falling apart, wife takes a lover, husband lies near death from a heart attack, wife is pregnant with another
