The Pregnant Bride (14 page)

“And I’m not sure I want to risk your well-being by having you traipsing around the Interior in the middle of the hottest September on record,” he said irritably. “It won’t hurt Adrienne to do the driving for once. I want to talk to her anyway, and it’s impossible to get her alone at the farm without good old Bud horning in on the conversation.”

Jenna sometimes thought that Edmund’s antipathy for Bud had less to do with the part he’d played in Molly’s accident than it had with the fact that he was married to Adrienne. “He strikes me as a very decent man,” she said. “And he clearly adores Molly.”

“Nevertheless he’s not her father, and what I have to say to Adrienne is no concern of his.”

“Is it any of mine?” she asked, taken aback by his caustic dismissal of the man who certainly filled the role of surrogate parent in Molly’s life, even if he wasn’t related to her by blood.

“You’ve got plenty of other things on your mind. How’s the knitting going? Are you going to have that blanket finished before the baby gets here?”

He was the most candid man she’d ever known, yet in the last week or two he’d several times been unavailable when she’d done as he asked and phoned him during the day. “I had an appointment and turned off my phone,” he’d say, when she questioned him about it; or, “You’d hung up before I could answer, but I got back to you fairly quickly, and that’s all that matters.”

They were, like everything else he did, eminently reasonable responses, yet she’d been left with the uneasy feeling that he wasn’t being entirely open with her. For him now to deflect her question by trying to change the subject troubled her more than a little.

“Making things for the baby doesn’t render me mentally defective, Edmund. I’m still capable of sharing your concerns.”

He dropped a kiss on her head. “You’re supposed to avoid stress, sweet pea.”

“If you believe that, then stop keeping me in the dark. You’re being evasive, and it’s not like you. There’s more behind this sudden interest in having Molly stay with us, and I want to know what it is.”

He threw up his hands. “Okay! If you must know, I’m not convinced she’s getting the best follow-up care from the accident. She’s supposed to be getting therapy three times a week, but whenever I ask how it’s going, I don’t get a straight answer. There’ve been too many postponements, last-minute switches in scheduling, for my peace of mind. So I’m doing my own follow-up, and taking her to see a pediatric orthopedist here in the city. I want a second opinion on her progress from someone with no ax to grind.”

“You’re being unfair to Adrienne,” Jenna protested. “The only time she canceled a therapy appointment that I’m aware of was when Molly came down with that cold.”

“What about the time she missed a whole week of aqua-therapy?”

“That wasn’t Adrienne’s fault! The public pool was closed because of some maintenance problem. What was she supposed to do about it—get Bud to bulldoze a hole in the back garden and fill it with water?”

She was treading on delicate ground, of course, and Edmund wasted no time calling her on it. “You know something, Jenna? It really ticks me off that you think you know more about my ex-wife than I do, when the most time you’ve ever spent with her is twenty minutes.”

“That’s not true. We’ve spoken on the phone several times.”

“Fine,” he said. “Make it an hour! It still doesn’t compare to the five years I lived with her. Ever since she remarried, she wanders around like a latter-day sixties’ flower child, off in la-la land half the time, full of peace and love, and live and let live. I sometimes wonder what else they’re growing up there beside grapes!”

“Whether or not you approve of her or her choice of mate, Adrienne loves Molly and she’d never neglect her.”

“That’s easy for you to say. It’s not your daughter we’re talking about.”

Jenna took a deep breath and folded her hands over her stomach. “It would seem you’ve built up quite a head of resentment in the last little while, and since you seem bent on airing your grievances, I’ve got one I’d like to throw into the mix. I’m fully aware that Molly is nobody’s child but yours. I’d have a hard time forgetting, given the number of times you remind me. What I’d like to know, though, is if you don’t want me to treat her as if she were mine as well, why did you bother to marry me in the first place?”

He made a visible effort to rein in his annoyance. “I’m surprised you have to ask me that, considering you won’t be able to get through a door sideways before much longer because you’re pregnant with my child,” he said, patting her belly possessively. “And I don’t mean to shut you out. I’m just following doctor’s orders and doing my best to keep your life stress free. If you don’t feel up to having Molly here—”

“I never even hinted at that!” she said, refusing to be thrown off-track by such an absurd suggestion. “I merely expressed some concern that she might get homesick. But I’ll bow to your superior wisdom and settle for doing my level best to make sure she has a lovely time while she’s with us.”

“Thank you, sweet pea. You’re the best.”

“In fact,” she said, annoyed enough by his complacent smile to want to get in a sly dig of her own, “I’ll prepare a room for Adrienne, as well. She won’t want to drive both ways in one day, and having her here overnight might make the transition a bit easier for Molly.”

“Oh, terrific! My current wife and my ex both under the same roof! As if I don’t have enough to deal with, without that!”

But it was Bud who ended up driving Molly down to the coast. A big, bearded man wearing denim shorts, sandals, and a baseball cap, he arrived in a pickup truck with Molly tucked into the small back seat of the cab. “Adrienne’s a bit under the weather,” he explained, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. “She gone and hurt her back gardening, so your timing couldn’t have worked out better. Not having Molly around will give her a chance to rest up a bit.”

“I’m glad we’re able to help,” Jenna said and ignoring Edmund’s black look, went on, “It’s a long trip back, so if you’d like to stay here tonight and get an early start tomorrow, you’re welcome to do so. We’ve got plenty of room.”

“Thanks anyway, but I’ll push off. Don’t like leaving Adrienne alone when she can’t get about very good. We’re pretty isolated if anything went wrong and she needed help.”

“Well,” Jenna said, bending a meaningful glance Edmund’s way, “I’m sure my husband agrees with you. He acts like a trained guard dog around me sometimes! But can we at least offer you something to eat or drink before you start back?”

“Aw, I’ll stop somewhere along the way. But thanks.” He bent down and hugged Molly. “You be good, Moll, and I’ll see you next week. Don’t forget you can phone us any time you get lonely. And you take care of yourself, you hear?”

She nodded, planted a kiss on Bud’s cheek, then wriggled free and scooted inside to explore the house.

“Pity he didn’t show the same concern when he backed a tractor over her,” Edmund observed darkly, watching him drive away.

“I don’t understand why you’re so hard on him,” Jenna said. “You ought to be happy that he cares so much for his wife.”

“Give me a break, Jenna! The guy’s an idiot. You’ve only got to listen to him and look at him to see that.”

“I might be inclined to think you’re jealous if it weren’t that I’m sure you’re above such petty emotion,” she couldn’t help saying. “Would you view him more kindly if he weren’t married to your ex-wife?”

“I don’t give a flying fig who Adrienne’s married to! It’s my daughter I’m concerned about.”

“Well, I say you’re worrying needlessly. Bud’s tastes might not be as sophisticated as yours, and he might mangle the language a bit, but he strikes me as a very kind and caring man.”

“Sweet pea,” Edmund said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and giving her a squeeze, “you’d find something good to say about the devil himself. Just as well you’ve got me around to set you straight! Let’s go get Molly settled, then I’ll firm up her appointment with the specialist.”

Dr. James Franklin was old enough to satisfy parents that he knew his business, and youthful enough to inspire trust in his young patients. “I’d like to have a look at some X rays to be on the safe side,” he told Edmund and Jenna, when he’d finished examining Molly, “but from everything I’ve seen, I’d say your daughter’s treatment coincides exactly with what I’d have prescribed.”

“But she’s favoring one leg over the other,” Edmund said. “At this rate, she’ll walk with a limp for the rest of her life.”

“As her recovery progresses, and provided you’re diligent with the physiotherapy, that will correct itself. In the meantime, what you have to take into account is the residual emotional trauma she’s undergone and not pile on the pressure too much. Let her advance at her own speed and be sure to give her the kind of reassurance she needs.”

“What about the muscle atrophy?”

“It’s normal after a long period in a cast. The condition will reverse itself. Has already begun to do so, in fact. There’s no evidence of nerve damage—not that I’d expect to find any at her age. That’s the thing with children, Mr. Delaney. They show amazing recuperative powers.”

“What about long-term complications?”

“Long-term?” Jenna thought the doctor looked taken aback by the question, which wasn’t surprising. She thought he’d made it very clear there wouldn’t
be
any long-term complications. But from the moment they’d stepped into the consulting room, Edmund had seemed bent on finding some. “None. We’re dealing with very young bones which heal well.”

“So you’re willing to guarantee she’ll grow up to lead a perfectly normal life?”

Again, the doctor looked puzzled.
“Normal?”

“Be able to have children,” Edmund said impatiently. “There was pelvic injury as well as that to her legs.”

“I’m a doctor, not a fortune teller, Mr. Delaney, and contrary to popular belief, medicine is not an exact science. So, no, I can’t guarantee she’ll one day bear you beautiful grandchildren, any more than I guarantee she’ll marry a man you approve of. What I can do is state categorically that your daughter is making a good recovery from her accident.”

“But not that she’ll be as good as new?”

The doctor scratched his head. “I’d rather she hadn’t been injured in the first place, if that’s what you’re asking me. Certainly she hasn’t benefitted from the experience. No child—or adult for that matter—is better off as a result of her kind of physical and emotional trauma, and I certainly don’t recommend you expose her to the same kind of risk in the future. The outcome this time could have been vastly more tragic and she might not be so lucky again.”

For the first time since the examination had begun, Edmund appeared satisfied. “I believe you’ve given me the answers I was looking for, Dr. Franklin,” he said, rising from his chair and reaching across the desk to shake the specialist’s hand. “Thank you very much for seeing us.”

They drove to Stanley Park afterward, and had a picnic lunch at the playground near Second Beach. Edmund was in fine spirits, making Molly laugh by hand-feeding the ducks and then pretending to be scared of the Canada geese, and making no mention of the interview. But the minute she hobbled off to ride the swings, he said to Jenna, “Well, you heard the man.”

“What I heard,” Jenna said flatly, “was you looking for reasons to level criticism at the way Adrienne and Bud are looking after Molly.”

“I’m building a case, sweet pea,” he replied, seeming not at all upset that she wasn’t exactly cheering him on. “We’re talking about my daughter’s future here and I intend to use every bit of ammunition I can lay hands on.”

“Does her mother know you planned to take her to see another doctor?”

“No. Technically, we have joint custody. I don’t need Adrienne’s permission, nor can I imagine she’d refuse it even if I did.”

“If Molly were my child,” Jenna said, ever mindful of her delicate role in the little girl’s life, “I’d resent finding out after the fact, and I’d definitely suspect you were hiding something.”

There was a distinct chill in his voice when he spoke next. “I see. So what would you like me to do, Jenna? Come right out and admit I’m building a case to gain primary custody of Molly, and keep Adrienne informed each step of the way? Possibly hire a lawyer to prepare a counterattack on her behalf?”

“She’s a mother, Edmund, and anyone can see that she loves Molly. I think she’ll be devastated when she finds out what you’re up to.”

“But I’m just the father and how I feel doesn’t count, is that it?”

“No!” she cried, wishing he weren’t always so primed to take offence on the subject. “I don’t mean that at all. But I wonder if your motivation is quite as selfless as you make it out to be.”

“Exactly what are you implying?”

“Edmund, Dr. Franklin said nothing to indicate that Molly wasn’t given the best possible care. Quite the opposite, in fact. Yet you persisted in badgering him—trying to get him to say something,
anything,
which you could use to label Adrienne and Bud as unfit parents.”

“And your point is?” he said coldly.

“There must have been a report filed at the time of the accident and since you’re not waving it in the air like some sort of trophy, I assume it contained nothing to indicate they were guilty of criminal negligence.” She sighed. “Accidents happen, Edmund, even with the most vigilant supervision. With children, they happen in a split second. You know that.”

“What I know,” he said, his voice dangerously intent, “is that my daughter could have died and I’ll move heaven and earth before I leave her open to the same risk again.”

“And if you don’t succeed?”

He fixed her in a killing glare, one so ruthless that she flinched. “But I’ve already taken steps to ensure that I do,” he said. “I married you, sweet pea.”

“I realize I’m just the means to an end,” she said, stifling the hurt his cold assessment provoked, “but I’d hoped there might be more to our…
arrangement
than pure convenience. I’d hoped that by now we’d have developed…”