Baby Comes First (8 page)

Mr. Jamison stepped into the room. He wore a
dark suit and tie, as if he’d come directly from work. He held a
stack of DVD cases. “I thought you might be bored,” he said,
handing it to her. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I went through
my collection brought a variety.”

She glanced at the titles. There was a spy
story, a drama, and a comedy she had wanted to see a few years
before. She placed the DVDs on a little table by the couch. “Thank
you.”

He stood for a moment, as if not certain what
to say next. He shifted his weight from one foot to another and
looked around the den as if surprised by the pale yellow walls, the
chintz covered furniture and the large gold framed oil paintings.
Some people thought the room was too bright, but Hannah found
bright colors cheerful and liked to surround herself with beauty.
“You have a nice home,” he said, and glanced at a painting by the
archway into the kitchen. “That’s pretty.”

Was Luke Jamison trying to make polite
conversation? She was amused. “Thank you. It’s one of my
Impressionist attempts.”

His eyes grew wide with surprise. “You
paint?”

No doubt he thought she spent her weekends
practicing her keyboarding. “Not as much as I’d like to.”

Another silence.

Where were her manners? Hannah thought
suddenly. She said, “Are you in a hurry, or would you like to sit
down?”

“I’ll stay a few minutes.” He sat in a
leather arm chair, near the couch. He stared at her, his eyebrows
furrowed. “How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine. I have a difficult time
remembering not to sit up or go do things the minute I think of
them, but other than that, I’m fine.”

“And the baby?”

“Okay, as far as I know.”

“Good.”

“And how about you? How was work today?”

He scowled, remembering. “The first woman
didn’t last until noon, and the second one doesn’t seem to be much
better. I don’t know how I’m going to get anything done.”

Hannah choked back a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“You,” she said, suddenly brave. Now that she
didn’t have to work with him every day, she could speak her mind.
“You scare those women half to death. If you didn’t yell and stomp
about, maybe they could think clearly enough to do their jobs
properly.”

“It never seemed to bother you.”

“Not everyone has thick skin like I do.” She
saw him look closely her face and she felt herself blush. That was
one of the curses of having red hair. “Well, maybe not as thick as
I’d like,” she added lightly, glancing away. “Would you like
something to drink?”

“A glass of water.”

Hannah called, “Mrs. Parker?”

Her housekeeper walked in from the
kitchen.

“Would you get both of us a glass of
water?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke smiled and said, “What I was really
hoping, Mrs. Parker, was that you had made some of your delicious
lasagna.”

She said, “No, I’m using up what Ms. Hansen
has in her refrigerator first. Today, we’re having a cheese soufflé
and a salad.”

“Did you mix up some of your dressing?”

“I can if you want some,” she said, looking
between the two of them, as if to ask, “Is he staying for
dinner?”

Hannah felt as if she were being backed into
a corner. Did she want him to stay for dinner? “Would you like to
stay?”

His serious gaze met hers. “If you don’t
mind, yes.”

He did stay, and they ate buffet style in the
den, so she could eat lying down. The conversation was light,
without any arguing or serious overtones. They discussed movies and
books. Not once did either of them mention the baby, and Hannah was
relieved. She didn’t want to receive another lecture from him, and
she appreciated his restraint.

At one point they discussed a popular
courtroom drama on television. He asked her if she had ever
considered going to law school.

She smiled wryly. “No.”

“You’d be good at it.”

“I doubt it. I don’t have the killer
instinct.”

“You’ve got a good eye for details, and
you’re a hard worker. I’m just surprised you’re --” Luke stopped
himself.

She filled in the words for him, “just a
secretary?”

“I wasn’t going to say that, but yes, I think
you’re capable of more.”

She wasn’t offended. “I think we’re all
capable of doing more. But having a high powered career isn’t
everything, and life has a way of surprising us.”

“What happened?”

She shrugged. “When my father died, his
finances were in a mess. So no more help with tuition. I dropped
out of school to work. Later I took night classes and finished my
bachelor’s degree.”

“What did you study?”

She smiled. “Art History. It was fun, but not
very practical. So I took some classes in office skills, and here I
am - working for you.” It wasn’t a bad life, just not what she’d
expected.

“Did you ever think about graduate
school?”

“Briefly. I was accepted into an MFA program,
but my mom wasn’t doing well, so I changed my plans.”

He nodded. She liked the way he listened to
her. Part of her was amazed that she could talk so freely with him,
telling him things that she rarely revealed to others. Maybe it was
because she’d never tried to impress him -- that was liberating.
“What about you?” she asked. “Did you always want to be an
attorney?”

“When I was little, I used to argue with my
older brother Charles, and he said I ought to go to law school. It
planted the idea.”

“It’s worked well for you.”

He was thoughtful. “I’ve heard all the jokes,
and I know many people consider the entire profession leeches on
society, but to me, being a lawyer lets me fight for the things
that are most important.”

She thought of one of their recent clients.
“Like the McClane case.”

He gave a laugh. “Perhaps not every case is
socially significant.”

“Except to the parties involved,” Hannah
conceded.

He smiled, and for a moment they sat in
comfortable silence.

She tried to hide a yawn, and he glanced at
his watch. “It’s time for me to go home,” he said. “Thank you for
dinner.”

“Thank you for the movies,” she said,
suddenly feeling awkward again. Since she had to lie down, she
couldn’t walk him to the front door.

He reached down and for an instant she
thought he might kiss her. She held her breath, then he touched her
cheek gently. “Good night, Hannah,” he said quietly.

When will I see you again?
she
thought, then mentally checked herself.

He let himself out the front door, closing it
behind him.

Hannah reached up to rub her cheek that
seemed to tingle where he’d touched her.

“He likes you,” Mrs. Parker said. She’d come
into the room to gather the dishes.

Hannah startled, embarrassed. She was acting
like some love-starved spinster. “He’s just being kind.” She’d been
crazy to think that he might kiss her. He was her boss, nothing
more.

“A kind man would have dropped off the movies
and stayed five minutes -- not two hours.”

Had it been that long? Hannah glanced at the
clock. “Mrs. Parker, I’m sorry. Did I make you stay late?”

“I don’t mind. I get paid overtime.”

CHAPTER
SIX

Luke didn’t come by again for the next two
days because he was out of town for a hearing, but he called both
evenings to ask how she was doing. “I’m fine,” she assured him. The
calls weren’t long, no more than five minutes in length, but she
appreciated his concern. It gave her a warm, happy feeling to know
that someone cared.

Which was irrational, she told herself
firmly.
He’s merely being kind. Don’t imagine it’s anything
else.

When the telephone rang Saturday morning, she
picked it up quickly, hoping it was Luke.

It wasn’t. A female voice said, “Ms. Hansen?
This is Irene.”

It was the manager of the senior center.
Hannah was disappointed for a moment, then grew worried. “Is my
mother all right?”

“She’s about the same. But I’m not calling
about that.”

“It’s not about the painting class, is it? I
called earlier and left a message that I wouldn’t be able to teach
for the next few weeks.”

“Yes, I got the message, thank you. What I
need to discuss is another matter entirely.”

Hannah waited.

“You remember the roof damage we had after
the hail storm in the spring?”

“Yes.” They’d had to move her mother to
another room while they made repairs. Her mother, always agitated
by change, had not done well. It had taken her more than a week to
become accustomed to her new environment.

“Well, we did some minor repairs, but the
entire roof needs to be replaced. The board of directors has
decided that when we replace the roof, we should also renovate the
entire building.”

“That sounds like a big project. Will my
mother be moved to another room again?”

“It’s not that simple. The renovations will
be extensive. All of our residents will need to move out for at
least six months, possibly more.”

“Move out? When?”

“We need everyone out by the first of
February.”

That gave her a little more than three and a
half months.

“I know this will be difficult for your
mother, but I wanted to give you ample notice so you could find
some place for her. If you wish, we can handle the move.”

For a fee, Hannah thought cynically. She
appreciated the care the facility had given her mother, but they
were still a business, wanting to make a profit. “Thank you for
letting me know,” she said, and disconnected the call.

How was she going to find a place for her
mother to live while she was on bed rest? And after that, she was
going to have a baby to take care of. Not to mention the difficulty
of getting anything done during the holiday season.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
It didn’t matter how difficult it was, she’d have to deal with it.
But how? She couldn’t drive around, checking out the various
facilities.

She called out, “Mrs. Parker?”

The woman walked into the den, wiping her
hands on her apron. “Yes?”

“I hate to bother you, but I need your
opinion. I need to use my desktop computer, but I can’t sit up to
use it. Which do you think would be better -- to drag the couch
across the room, or should I put a mattress down on the floor by
the computer?”

“Put a mattress down over there,” Mrs. Parker
said, after a moment’s consideration. “Otherwise, you’ll want to
move the couch back and forth so you can watch television.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Do you have a mattress you want to use?”

“The twin mattress in the guest room.”

“I’ll get it right now.”

“I’ll help,” Hannah offered, then realizing
what she had said, corrected herself with a smile. “No, I won’t.
Sorry.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” Mrs.
Parker said.

Hannah lay back on her pillow and stared at
the ceiling. It was only Day Four of her bed rest and already she
was getting stir crazy. She’d discovered that there was nothing
like laying down all day to make her think up new home
improvements. Mrs. Parker could take care of any deep cleaning
projects, but she kept thinking of decorating ideas. She wanted to
paint walls and move furniture, probably more from boredom than
anything else.

She’d already watched the movies Luke had
brought her, and she’d read several paperback romances. Maybe with
computer access, she wouldn’t be so bored. And, more importantly,
she could research assisted living places.

Within a few minutes, Mrs. Parker had dragged
the twin mattress into the den and placed it on the floor next to
her computer desk.

Hannah walked across the room and laid down
on the mattress. She could lie on her back with the keyboard on her
bent legs and type, but it was impossible to see the monitor. “What
if we put the monitor on the floor?” Mrs. Parker asked.

“We’ll have to unplug everything and set it
up again to make the cords reach.”

Mrs. Parker shook her head. “I don’t know
much about computers and I’d hate to mess things up.”

“I don’t think it will be a problem,” Hannah
said. “We can figure it out togeth–”

The doorbell rang, interrupting her. “I’ll
get it,” Mrs. Parker said.

She returned in a minute with Luke. For a
second Hannah almost didn’t recognize him because he looked so
different in casual clothes. Hannah wondered if she’d ever seen him
without a tie.

Today he wore a crew neck sweater and jeans.
The softer fabric seemed to emphasize his broad shoulders and the
muscles in his thighs. She’d known he was a big man, but she hadn’t
noticed before how athletic he was. But that shouldn’t surprise
her. He often played racquetball with the other partners of the law
firm, and he had a membership in one of the downtown gyms.

She was glad that she’d taken the time that
morning to smooth her hair back and put on a little make-up. She
was also wearing stretch pants and one of her more attractive
maternity tops. “Good morning,” she said.

“What seems to be the problem?”

He still wasn’t one to waste time with the
social niceties, she thought, amused. The day he said good morning
to her, she’d faint from shock. “We’re trying to set up the
computer so I can use it lying down.”

He glanced at her equipment and the mattress.
“You need a laptop or a tablet,” he said decisively.

“My computer may be old, but it still does
what I need.”

“I’ll get you a new one.”

Hannah took a deep breath. Luke was like a
bulldozer. Give him a problem, and he wanted to solve it
immediately – in his own way, full speed ahead. Anyone that
disagreed would be run over. “I appreciate the offer,” she said
clearly, “but I’d rather use my own computer.”