coming, too?” Susan asked.
“Rand’ll need someone to drive so he can focus on vital signs and timing contractions and all that.”
“All right, all right, hurry up,” Rand said. He hit the garage door opener just as a familiar Jeep pulled into the driveway. Oh, hell. It was Alicia and Dougy.
Gesturing wildly as if her car were a 747, he guided his sister into a parking space so she wouldn’t block his exit from the garage. “Clark, get Susan settled into the back seat of the Bronco. Alicia!” he called as his sister exited her car. “No time to explain. Put Dougy’s car seat in the back of the Bronco. He can go to Savannah with us.”
Alicia, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, did not look ready for a job interview. “Savannah?”
“To the hospital,” he explained. “Hurry up! Can’t you see this is an emergency?”
Alicia looked at Susan. “You’re having a baby?”
“It appears so.”
“Oh, what great fun!” Alicia said excitedly. “Can we go? My job interview got rescheduled.”
“Susan’s labor is not a spectator event!” Rand objected. It felt like everyone was moving in slow motion. Was he the only one feeling the raw edges of panic?
“I’m great in a crisis,” Alicia said, appealing straight to Susan. “I went through this less than two years ago, so I know everything. I’m Rand’s sister, Alicia, by the way. Do you want me to come?”
Susan managed a smile. “Sure, the more the merrier.”
Rand threw up his hands in defeat. They all piled into the Bronco, Clark driving, Alicia in the passenger seat, Dougy, Rand, and Susan in back.
“No one has to give me directions,” Clark said, taking off.
Savannah was forty-five minutes away. Susan’s contractions came with reassuring regularity, about five minutes apart. That meant she was definitely in labor, Rand told her. In his most doctorlike voice, he assured her there was plenty of time, but he felt more like a nervous, first-time father than a seasoned medical professional.
He hadn’t felt this nervous even when he was a clueless kid, driving his mother to the hospital—with no driver’s license—so she could have Alicia. What was it about Susan that made him so afraid for her?
Halfway to Savannah, something occurred to Rand. “My God, Susan, we haven’t even called your husband! Someone give me a cell phone. I’ll dial it for you.”
“I’ve got one,” Alicia said brightly, digging through her purse. “It’s in here somewhere.”
“That’s all right,” Susan said. “I, um, won’t be able to get in touch with him now, anyway.”
“You mean he can’t be reached?” Rand asked, incensed. “Isn’t he the least bit worried about you? Doesn’t he have a beeper or something?”
Susan shook her head. “I’ll call him…later.”
Something was funny about her reaction. She did not seem overjoyed at the prospect of telling her husband he was about to be a daddy. And was she crying?
“Oh, all right, you might as well know,” she said, sniffing back tears. “I don’t have a husband to call.”
A stunned silence followed Susan’s announcement. Rand was more than surprised. All this time he’d thought Susan was so safe, so…so untouchable. He’d actually started feeling comfortable around her. A pregnant, married woman was no threat at all. But a pregnant, single woman…
“You lied to me about that, too?”
SUSAN HAD BEEN HOPING she wouldn’t have to reveal to Rand that she was an unwed mother—it was so embarrassing. She’d figured she’d be done with the bookshelves and far away from Rand before he could discover the truth.
But she couldn’t continue with the farce of the fictional husband.
She looked at him. He didn’t meet her gaze, and the expression on his face was impenetrable. Had she shocked him? Disgusted him? He definitely did not seem pleased with her news.
“Everything I told you about Gary was true,” she said. “Except he was never my husband. And he’s gone.”
“I know just what you’re going through,” Alicia piped in, breaking the awkward tension. “Dougy’s birth father wasn’t around either. But with all my own family to take up the slack, I hardly noticed anybody missing. I had six labor coaches, counting Clark.”
Susan relaxed a little. Rand’s sister, a short-haired pixie with huge, dark eyes, was an absolute delight, and she, at least, would stop the others from tossing her out on the side of the road. “It sounds like your family is very supportive.”
“And I’m sure yours will be, too. Here, why don’t you call everybody you know?” Alicia handed her the phone.
Susan didn’t take it. “I don’t really have anybody to call.” It was painful to admit it, but she had no one. She was an only child, and both parents were deceased. She had some distant relatives in Illinois, but that was it. As for friends, she had let them fall by the wayside when she’d gotten so wrapped up in her relationship with Gary. And after he’d left, she’d just folded in on herself. The only person she’d confided in lately was Arnette, her midwife, who was the closest thing she had to a friend, and Mrs. Regis.
Alicia, craning around to look at her, wore an expression of sympathy. “We’ll be your family, then, won’t we, guys? Babies are such exciting events. And the Barclay family knows how to do it up right. I’ll call Betty and Bonnie, too. They’ll want to come.”
“Alicia!” Rand scolded. “Why don’t you call Mom while you’re at it?”
“Oh, now, that would be a treat.” Alicia started pushing buttons on the phone.
Rand pulled the phone out of her hands. “You’re not calling anyone. Susan doesn’t even know us! I’m sure she doesn’t want a bunch of strangers around while she’s having a baby.”
Susan wanted to correct him. For some odd reason, she did want a lot of people around. For all these months, she hadn’t exactly viewed her pregnancy with joy. It had been more of a problem to overcome, a strategic challenge. Still, sometimes, when the baby kicked inside, Susan would feel a wave of affection for the life she was bringing into the world.
She knew she would find the reserves to be a good mother. But there’d been no giddy anticipation, no real excitement, just a lot of apprehension about how she would take care of this child when her own life was such a mess.
The idea of a bunch of excited people hanging around to talk her through the pain, to rejoice with her over the birth, to ooh and aah over the newborn, had an inordinate amount of appeal.
And the idea that Rand would be one of those people, maybe holding her hand, whispering encouragement in her ear, giving her ice chips, mopping her sweaty brow, was the most appealing aspect of all.
Now, what was wrong with this picture? Rand was her client. She’d lied to him about several things, and now he’d been shanghaied into shuttling her to the hospital. That didn’t exactly qualify him as her labor coach. But the fantasy had lodged itself in her mind and wouldn’t be evicted.
Another contraction hit her, much stronger than the others had been. She let out a yelp, then censored herself.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, let it out,” Alicia said. “Scream like a banshee. Everybody expects it, and you’ll get more sympathy.”
Susan laughed through tears of pain. “I don’t want to scream. It’s so undignified.”
“Undignified, unshmignified,” Alicia returned. “All the books tell you it hurts—they just don’t tell you how much.”
“You