The Nurse's Newborn Gift (2 page)

Since she had some time to kill to make her visit believable, she spent it snooping. One toothbrush in the holder. Basic man stuff neatly stashed in the medicine cabinet. An electric beard trimmer. Deodorant. A small box of condoms. Mostly empty drawers. No tampons, or hair paraphernalia, or any signs the same woman visited on a regular basis. Rather than think too hard on why that made her happy, Krissy flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and walked back into the hallway.

Seeing Spencer sitting at the kitchen table, fully engrossed by his letter, Krissy took a few minutes to admire his apartment, neat, modern, and nicely furnished in tans and blacks, so different from the cluttered, messy bedroom of his youth. In the living room he had a bunch of thick textbooks stacked on a low shelf. Krissy walked closer. Anatomy and Physiology. Nutrition. Relaxation. Strength and Conditioning. Athletic Training.

Then she saw it, at eye level, a full color picture of the three of them in a plain black frame, Jarrod on one side, Spencer on the other, and Krissy in the middle. It'd been taken in Central Park, during the winter. They'd been all smiles, with red cheeks, disheveled hats and coats, and covered in snow. Happier times. The good old days, always together...until junior year, when everything had changed.

Beside it were a bunch of pictures of Spencer wearing the same clothes he wore now, posing with various adult male soccer players. “What's with all these soccer pictures?”

“I'm an assistant athletic trainer with the NYC United,” he answered, his eyes never leaving the letter. “A semi-pro, United Soccer League team.”

Pretty cool, but she'd never tell
him
that. Krissy remembered her sister Kira telling her there was a semi-pro soccer team in their area. They practiced and played at one of the local colleges, which explained why Spencer now lived so close to her. “That's what you went to school for?”

“Got my master's degree in it.”

“What does an assistant athletic trainer do exactly?”

“Athletic trainers deal with prevention, acute care and rehabilitation of sports injuries.”

Other pictures caught her attention. Spencer hiking. Spencer skiing. Spencer on the beach with a bunch of his good looking friends.
My God!
Krissy looked away. “No pictures of your girlfriend?”

“I don't have a girlfriend.”

Good to know.

Why is that good to know?

Hmmm.

Before she could come up with an answer, Spencer interrupted.

“You're pregnant?” he yelled from the kitchen, in a tone that seemed to indicate women like Krissy shouldn't procreate. Really, he felt it necessary to yell? The apartment wasn't all that big.

“Yes,” Krissy said, keeping her voice uninterested and her back to him as she perused the other pictures on the shelf. “Sorry you wasted a perfectly good insult.”

“With Jarrod's baby?” he asked.

The disbelief in his tone had her swinging around to face him. “Yes with Jarrod's baby.”

From where he sat, Spencer looked up from the letter. “How do I know?”

“How do you know
what
?”

He stood. “How do I know that's Jarrod's baby in here,” he motioned to her belly, “and not some other guy's?” He walked closer. “How do I know you didn't get yourself knocked up and now you're digging out these letters Jarrod left you so you can get me, Patti and Bart involved so you don't have to raise the kid on your own? Do they know?”

A rage like she hadn't felt in years, quite possibly since the last time she'd seen Spencer, surged through her. How dare he insinuate... “As if I would waste one minute looking for you if Jarrod hadn't asked me to. As if I would want someone like you in my life, in my baby's life, if Jarrod hadn't specifically stated he wanted you to be his baby's godfather. God I hate you. This was a mistake.” She stomped toward the door. “I don't know what Jarrod was thinking.” She bent to pick up her pocketbook—no easy task considering she'd soon be entering her ninth month of pregnancy, but no way would she ask Spencer for help. “And, no, Patti and Bart don't know. Not yet. I'm waiting until after the baby's born. To save them from worry...or having to grieve another loss if something goes wrong.”

“Wait,” he said, sounding tired.

No way would she wait simply because he wanted her to. But she could slow down long enough to let him have it. “You may not believe this is Jarrod's baby, and frankly, I don't care whether you do or you don't. I did what he asked me to do, out of love for him, but I won't—”

“Love.” Spencer let out a cruel laugh. “You don't know the meaning of the word. If you loved Jarrod so much, why'd you flirt with him and tease and then flaunt all your boyfriends in front of him?”

Yes, she'd teased and joked. But she most certainly had not flirted with Jarrod. “I did not—”

Apparently ready for a fight, he set his hands on his hips and leaned in. “Oh, yes, you did. Holding their hands in front of him, sucking face in front of him, telling him the intimate details of your sex life, breaking his heart over and over again.”

Breaking his heart? “I did not break his heart. We were pals, best friends. We talked about everything.” Although to be honest, usually Krissy had done most of the talking while Jarrod had done most of the listening.

“He didn't want to be your best friend. At least that's not
all
he wanted to be. I never understood how you couldn't see it? Except that you were always too absorbed in yourself and what was going on in your life to notice much about anyone else.”

Even though that had been true, Krissy told him to, “Go to hell.” She didn't want to relive those days. She'd moved on. She was a better person now. She was doing the right thing by having Jarrod's baby, following through with his wishes. But she refused to stand here and listen to one more word out of Spencer's mouth. She turned to the door.

“All the times you ran to him when you were upset, cried on his shoulder, let him hold you and console you. You gave him just enough to keep him content with the scraps of affection you tossed in his direction, to make him hopeful that maybe someday...”

“Shut up.” Krissy's chest started to ache.

“He loved you,” Spencer said. “Boyfriend, girlfriend loved you.”

No.

“But you came after me.” His words dripped with resentment. “Kissed me on some whim, without a care who saw you, without a care for my friendship with Jarrod or how much it would hurt him if he found out.”

“What's the matter, Krissy?”
Spencer had said to her that night
. “Getting desperate? Every other guy at the party turned you down?”
Like she was a common slut, like she'd only gone after him because no one else would have her. He had no idea how long it'd taken her to finally act on her feelings for him. If anyone had gotten hurt that night it'd been her.

Krissy turned back around to face him. “Jarrod and I were friends. Best friends. That's all.”

“He wanted more.” Spencer stared her down. “Why do you think he kissed you?”

An innocent peck on the lips, in the tenth grade, beneath the bleachers at a basketball game. “He said he liked me better than any other girl at school and he just wanted to see...” But there'd been nothing. No tingle. No spark. No desire to take the kiss deeper, for either of them...or so she'd thought...so he'd led her to believe. Why?

“Did you have to laugh afterward?” Spencer asked, doing nothing to hide his contempt, as he walked back to the kitchen, folded Jarrod's letter and stuffed it back in the envelope.

The whole kiss thing had made her feel weird and out of sorts. So yeah, she'd laughed. A nervous kind of laugh, because she didn't know what else to do, the two them standing there, alone... “He told you about that?”

Spencer nodded. Then he shrugged. “You confided in him and he confided in me. After you went off with your friends, like nothing had happened, he sent me a text.” Spencer looked down at his feet. “I found him crying in the third floor bathroom.”

“You told me he went home because he wasn't feeling well.”

“He
wasn't
feeling well. He was heartbroken. He'd finally kissed the girl he'd secretly loved for years and she'd laughed in his face.”

Krissy's stomach churned.

Spencer folded the envelope and slid it into his back pocket, casual as can be, while Krissy felt like the very foundation of her life was crumbling beneath her feet.

“The next day, after he'd calmed down he decided he could be patient.” Spencer's eyes met hers. “That you were worth the wait. That eventually he'd win you over, but you didn't make it easy on him, did you?”

Had she really hurt her best friend again and again? God help her. All the things she'd confided in him. Vomit started to creep up to the back of her throat. “I had no idea.” Absolutely no idea at all or she never would have—

“Why do you think he went into the army?” Spencer looked at her with such anger, such...hatred. “To impress
you
.”

No! “Don't you dare belittle his decision,” she jabbed her index finger in Spencer's direction, “his commitment and dedication or how hard he'd worked to get into shape. He enlisted because he wanted to serve his country.”

“He enlisted to impress
you.
” Spencer shook his head. “There was no talking him out of it, believe me, I tried. After hearing you gush about that Martinez kid who'd joined the marines, Jarrod got it into his head that he'd join the military, too. So you'd gush about
him
. He'd planned to come home a war hero so you'd finally see him as a man.”

What? “Are you saying...?” The ache in her chest worsened. The floor seemed to undulate beneath her feet. Krissy grabbed on to the wall for stability. “He joined the military because of me?” A sharp pain stabbed at the right side of her belly. “Ow.” She rubbed the area, tears forming in her eyes. It couldn't be. “That he's dead...” Her whole abdomen tightened uncomfortably. “He's dead...” She couldn't breathe. “...because of me?”

Fluid gushed between her legs. “No.” She clamped them closed.

“What's wrong?” Spencer ran toward her. He looked down. Then he ran back to the kitchen, grabbed a chair and ran back. “Sit.”

She wanted to yell, “I am not a dog,” because Spencer brought out the fight in her. But if she didn't sit right then there was a good chance she'd collapse to the floor. “I can't have this baby. Not yet.” She rubbed her belly, wasn't ready. “It's too soon.” The baby kicked. At least that was a good sign.

Krissy could hear Spencer talking but she paid no attention to what he was saying, thoughts of Jarrod swirling in her head. He'd gone into the army because of her. He'd been killed because of her.
I'm sorry. So sorry
.

Spencer knelt down beside her. “How far along are you?”

“I'm due in five weeks.” He repeated what she'd told him into his cell phone. “Who are you talking to?”

“An ambulance is on the way.”

CHAPTER TWO

U
PON
THEIR
ARRIVAL
at the hospital, the ambulance crew whisked them right up to the Labor and Delivery floor where Spencer stood by helplessly—something he was not used to and did not like one bit—while the doctor examined Krissy and the nurse hooked her up to a fetal monitor. Forty-five minutes later, they were alone, Spencer sitting in a guest chair, holding on to a black and white sonogram picture. Krissy in a hospital gown, lying on her side in the bed, facing away from him. The sound of her baby's rapid heartbeat—correction: her
and Jarrod's
baby's rapid heartbeat—filled the tense silence between them.

What had Jarrod been thinking, asking someone as irresponsible and self-centered as Krissy to have his baby, especially when he wouldn't be here to, at the very least, keep an eye on her? And now he expected Spencer to do it? He shifted in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Friendship had limits. Even after death.

Ten years.

For the past ten years, since his father had collapsed on a subway platform and died of a massive heart attack when Spencer was only seventeen, he'd been the man of the family, helping his mother, looking out for his two younger sisters. Finally, just this year, with Reagan in graduate school out in California, Tara finishing her first year of college in Massachusetts, and Mom moved out of their old apartment and into a smaller, more affordable one close to her new boyfriend, he'd earned his freedom.

He had his own place, outside of New York City where his mother still lived, could come and go as he pleased without having to check in with anyone. In the off season he could spend the winter skiing in Utah or on the beach in the Caribbean. Or he could do both! He was responsible for no one but himself...finally.

And now this. Krissy was having a baby, and Jarrod expected Spencer to look after them both? He wanted to run from the room screaming,
Noooooooooo.

Seeing her for the first time since high school—her face fuller, but still beautiful, the blue eyes that used to haunt his teenage dreams, her breasts looking even more voluptuous beneath her baggy scrubs—had been like a punch to the gut. And the way she'd been looking him over, with lust in her eyes.

Why couldn't she have looked at him like that back in high school? Why couldn't she have set Jarrod straight all those years ago? Told him, in no uncertain terms, that they'd never be more than friends? Then Jarrod could have gotten a real girlfriend and he wouldn't have gone into the army and he wouldn't be dead! Long buried anger, frustration, and blame had resurfaced. He'd wanted to hurt her, like she'd hurt Jarrod, so many times, like she'd hurt him. So Spencer had emptied the load he'd been carrying, telling her everything.

It was as if nine years had not gone by, as if he hadn't changed at all. As if he was still the antagonistic jerk he'd turned into all those years ago.

But this evening's little bit of bad behavior aside, he
had
changed. He was more tolerant and understanding, at least he tried to be...usually. Now, when he wanted something, he went after it, regardless of who else wanted it.

Maybe she had changed, too, at least a little. While the girl she'd been wouldn't have thought twice about making an empty promise to her best friend, old Krissy probably wouldn't have made good on that promise, especially when it involved something as huge and life altering as getting pregnant and having a baby on her own.

That Jarrod had gone as far as to ask wasn't as much of a shock as Krissy agreeing, and actually following through, especially with Jarrod gone. Their agreement could have died with him. No one would have known.

She could have taken all the money Jarrod had left her—a decision that finally made sense—and lived quite comfortably without having to work. Yet she hadn't. According to Jarrod's mom, Krissy had said she'd been working as a traveling nurse. Maybe she wasn't the conniving opportunist he'd thought her to be all these years.

A nicely dressed woman in a pair of killer heels hurried into the room. Tall and thin, the opposite of Krissy, but with the same blue eyes and dark hair, only hers was long and up in a ponytail, it had to be Krissy's sister, Kira. “My, God.” She walked past the foot of the bed to the side Krissy was facing. “Are you okay? The baby? What happened?”

A tall man with dark hair followed her in. “Give her a chance to answer.”

Whereas Kira didn't notice Spencer, the man with her held out his hand. “Derrick Limone, Kira's fiancé.”

According to Jarrod's mom, Krissy had mentioned working for her future brother-in-law, the doctor, at Limone Family Practice. Spencer liked that the man didn't throw his title around. “Spencer Penn.” Spencer shook his hand. Then, feeling the need to justify his presence, without admitting to most likely being the reason for Krissy's trip to the hospital, he added, “Baby's godfather.”

“Spencer Penn?” Kira asked, and not fondly. “From high school?”

Yeah,
that
Spencer Penn.

Krissy turned onto her back and struggled to sit up.

Without giving it a second thought, Spencer rushed over to help her, for the first time noticing how tired she looked. No wonder. According to what she'd told the doctor and nurse, she'd just recently returned from an assignment in Hawaii, was already working full time while in the process of looking for an apartment, and had not yet had time to visit a local OB-GYN or attend a birthing class.

For a woman as pregnant as Krissy, shouldn't finding a local OB-GYN and attending a birthing class have been the first two things she'd done upon arriving in the area where she'd be having her baby?

“What are you doing here?” Krissy asked Kira.

“A nurse called me.”

“Why did a nurse call you? I didn't ask a nurse to call you.” She directed her question and statement to Kira. But she directed one heck of a look at Spencer.

Yes. He'd asked the nurse to call Krissy's sister. A woman, in the hospital, possibly about to lose her baby would
want
her sister with her, wouldn't she? Based on the look she'd given him, apparently not.

“Why did a nurse call me?” Kira said. “Maybe because my sister is in the hospital and couldn't be bothered to call me herself, that's why. What happened?”

“Don't look so worried,” Krissy said to Kira. “I'm fine.”

“You are not fine,” Kira said, her eyes roaming over the fetal monitor reading then up to the cardiac monitor. “I told you to get in to see a local OB-GYN as soon as possible.”

“Exactly!”

Krissy shot him a glare so fierce it would have burned all the flesh from his face, if such a thing were possible. Okay, so he probably should have kept his opinion to himself.
You're just screwing up left and right today, aren't you?

To his surprise, rather than lay into him, Krissy turned to Kira and calmly said, “I didn't call because I didn't want you to worry. I didn't want you to drop everything and run over here, which is exactly what I knew you'd do.” She reached out and held Kira's hand. “Between managing Derrick's office and helping Tippy care for Mom and being pregnant yourself, you have enough to deal with. I told you I could do this on my own and I will.”

A snippet from Jarrod's letter flashed in his mind.

Krissy will try to do everything on her own, but she can't. She'll need help. And since I'm not there, I expect you, my oldest and best friend, my blood brother since the third grade, to be there for her.

“I don't want to be another burden,” Krissy went on.

“You're not a burden,” Kira said. “You have never been a burden. You're my sister and I love you.” She bent down to hug Krissy.

Krissy hugged her back. “I love you, too. And I
did
listen to you. I visited my doctor in Hawaii the day before I left. He examined me and said everything was fine. He recommended to follow up in two to three weeks. I've been researching doctors and asking around. As luck would have it, the doctor who saw me today was one of the ones I was considering. He's agreed to take me on as a patient. So there, you see?” She lifted her hands off of the bed. “No need for you to worry about me.”

Then she whipped her evil eyes back to Spencer. “Now that my sister's here, you can go.” Krissy dismissed him. “She'll give me a ride home.”

“But the doctor—” Spencer tried.

“Don't.” The about-to-commit-murder expression she gave him softened when she turned to look at Derrick. “You'll talk to the doctor,” she said sweetly, “and get him to let me go home tonight, won't you Derrick?”

“Why wouldn't he let you go home tonight?” Kira asked, obviously worried.

“Because she came in hypertensive,” Spencer answered.

“It's not a big deal,” Krissy said to Kira. “Really. As if all the hideous and uncomfortable changes your body goes through during pregnancy aren't enough, a new fun fact I learned today, is that when your baby gets to be a certain size, he can kick your bladder and make you pee yourself and think your water's broken and you're going into early labor. I panicked. That's all. My blood pressure shot up and now it's back down. It's been stable throughout my pregnancy. Today was a fluke, a one-time response to an upsetting event.”

She'd failed to mention the sharp pain and resulting abdominal tightness she'd felt just prior to her thinking her water had broken. This time he kept quiet. But even that didn't save him.

“Part of the reason I came in hypertensive,” she said to Spencer, looking like she was trying very hard to stay in control, “is because
you
made me go hypertensive.” She jabbed her index finger in his direction. “The doctor said I need to stay calm and I can't stay calm when you're here because every time you open your mouth you upset me. Now get out of here.” She pointed to the door rather aggressively. “Before you make me burst a blood vessel in my head and have a stroke and you kill me
and
my baby.”

Spencer couldn't help it. He crossed his arms over his chest and smiled. “Still have a flair for the dramatic, I see.”

Krissy threw her plastic cup of water at him. Luckily she had lousy aim. And there wasn't much water in it.

“On a serious note.” Derrick took on what Spencer figured was his Dr. Limone voice. When he had everyone's attention, he pointed at Krissy's cardiac monitor.

Her heart rate and blood pressure, which had, in fact, returned to within normal limits soon after she'd learned her baby was okay, were both back on the rise. Riling her up in high school had provided him with hours of entertainment. Riling her up when she was pregnant and in the hospital? He needed to be more careful. “I'm sorry,” he said, forcing as much sincerity as he could into his tone, because he
was
sorry, for real, and for more than teasing her in that moment.

“Why is he even here?” Kira asked. “What would make you pick Spencer Penn, of all people, to be your baby's godfather?” She looked over at him. “No offense, Spencer. But last I remember, Krissy didn't think all that highly of you.”

She probably didn't think all that highly of him now, either. Justifiably so.

“Because that's what Jarrod wanted,” Krissy said.

“Jarrod?” Kira asked. “What's he got to do with this?”

“This is his baby.” Krissy caressed her large belly over the monitor straps, looking down at it, her expression soft and loving and so unexpected, as was the warmth that spread through him when he saw it. “A little boy,” she said, with a small smile. “Not to jinx anything, but I've already decided to name him Jarrod Junior and call him J.J.”

J.J.
Spencer liked it. Jarrod would have liked it too.

He imagined a little boy with Jarrod's mischievous smile and dimples running around and getting into trouble. Between that little bit of imagery and the baby's heart beating loudly through the monitor, reality gave Spencer a second punch to the gut. Like it or not, Jarrod's baby would soon be coming into the world. And he'd need a good man in his life.

Spencer glanced at the bed, at Krissy's hands in particular. No wedding or engagement ring. Did she already have a man in her life? If so, she didn't call him to tell him she was in the hospital. And she'd put Kira down as her emergency contact.

Not that it mattered. Spencer would be there too. To tell little J.J. all about his dad, to introduce him to the banana splits with chocolate sprinkles his dad had loved, to take him to baseball games and introduce him to rock music and teach him all the things he knew Jarrod would want his son to know.

“This is Jarrod's baby?” Kira asked.

Surprising that Krissy hadn't shared that bit of information with her sister.

“Wait a minute,” Kira added. “Your artificial insemination was done with Jarrod's sperm? He had his sperm frozen before he died? And you...”

Krissy nodded.

Spencer had been cruel to insinuate Krissy would try to pass off another man's baby as Jarrod's. Deep down, he didn't believe she'd do such a thing. But Kira mentioning Krissy's artificial insemination put an immediate halt to any lingering question he may have had.

Krissy yawned, a big, totally exhausted looking yawn. “I'll tell you everything. Later. I promise.” She repositioned herself in the bed. “Right now, I really need to close my eyes for a few minutes.” She found the bed controller and lowered the head of the bed.

“I'm going to go track down her doctor,” Derrick said as he left the room.

“I'm going to go grab a cup of coffee,” Spencer said, knowing Kira would be in the room if Krissy should need anything. But when he left the room, he didn't go to grab a cup of coffee. He followed Derrick, hoping to listen in on his conversation with Krissy's doctor.