Page 8 of Becca's Baby

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“Love you, too,” he answered automatically. He hung up the phone and ran downstairs to wait for his wife. Whatever her problem was, they’d deal with it together.

THE KITCHEN LOOKED exactly as it had when she’d left that morning, startling her with its sameness when her life had changed so completely.

Will was standing at the door when she came in from the garage. She walked straight into his arms. Held on.

“I was worried about you,” he said, his words muffled against her ear.

“I know.”

He smelled good, familiar, a combination of the shampoo they used and his musky aftershave. He was still in his suit.

“What’s wrong, Bec?” he asked gently. He pulled back to look at her. “What’s wrong?”

Becca met his gaze bravely for a second and then broke away. She’d gained a little strength from Randi. Was a little clearer about this whole mess. She just hadn’t come to grips with any of it yet.

“Let’s go into the other room,” she said. Will tried to keep hold of her hand, but Becca, pretending not to notice, slipped away from him. In their windowed sitting room, she took her usual seat on the leather sofa, staring out the glass to the desert behind their house.

Will sat beside her, taking her hand again as he turned toward her.

“Tell me.”

“I went to the doctor today,” she started, and realized her mistake immediately. His eyes filled with horror. And fear.

Becca’s heart cried for him. For both of them. Her being ill might have been better news.

“Randi said you weren’t sick,” he said. His lips were thinned, his face grim.

“I’m not.” She took a deep breath. Forced herself to look at him. “Will, I’m pregnant.”

She’d have given anything to spare him the shock, the fear, the trapped feeling she’d been experiencing on and off for most of the past week. And to spare him the heartache of what was to come. But the child was his, too. He had a right to know.

And she needed him. She wouldn’t make it through this without him.

Emotions crossed his face so quickly she had a hard time keeping up with them. She recognized shock, which she’d expected. But the happiness…

“Did you say pregnant?” he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. His whole body seemed to be smiling as he anticipated her answer, awaited her confirmation.

No, Will, don’t do this to yourself. This isn’t good news.

Becca nodded.

“We’re pregnant?” He scooped her right up off the couch, swinging around in circles, laughing with pure unadulterated happiness.

Becca gave a small knowing smile. A shrug. Reality was going to set in. And with it the terrible weight of depression, of panic, that she’d been fighting all day.

Looking up at the man she adored, the man she’d spare pain at any cost, she was surprised to see tears of joy matting his lashes. Will never cried. In the twenty years they’d been married, she’d never once seen him cry. Not even during all those disappointments. He took one after another with a strong back and dry eyes. Becca had shed enough tears for both of them.

“We’re pregnant!” he suddenly hollered at the top of his voice.

Becca started to cry again. And waited for his reaction. He’d catch up with her soon enough.

And somehow they were going to support each other when it happened.

“You told Randi?” he asked, gazing down at her as he still held her in his arms.

Becca nodded and continued to wait. Surely he was going to see the pitfalls. The difficulties of even attempting to have a baby at their age. She’d already known—and then discovered the problems were worse than she’d thought when the doctor had described them all in exhaustive detail. Randi had shown concern, too, even before Becca had told her what the doctor had said.

But Will didn’t seem to understand. Not yet, anyway.


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