Chapter 12

 

No, no, Max thought as he watched her calmly lying on her side, ready to tell him she wasn’t going through the pregnancy. Must be she’d waited until his dad was out of danger, until Max slept. He opened his mouth to argue, but he stopped.

I’ve made a decision about the baby.

The baby.

“You never used the word baby before.”

Gently, she grasped his hand and brought it to her belly. Another first. Her eyes glowed with something he was afraid to name. “I know. I couldn’t allow myself to consider this little person inside me was real. Even after Connor said at ten weeks she had fingers and toes and a heartbeat.”

“She? You know that, too?”

“No, I only feel that one.”

Overcome with emotion, he couldn’t speak at first. Then, “What made you decide?”

“I’m sick of being afraid of my own past, Max. I think Eve Evans might be able to help me.” She brushed his jaw with her fingers. “I want you to have a baby and not with Angela Grimes. I want John to have a grandchild. I want to get married and live happily ever after.”

He hadn’t broken down during the horrific time with his father. But at her declaration, his eyes welled. “I can’t believe this.”

“Believe it, buster. Because you’re stuck with me now. And quite frankly, I’m one horny broad. You’re going to have to take care of me for the next six months in that department.”

“My pleasure.”

“And mine.”

o0o

Kneeling on the bed, he untied the pajama-bottoms string at her waist and slipped the garment off. He stopped to kiss her stomach, whispered, “I love you both.”

Whitney refused to let fear intrude this morning and instead concentrated on the touch and scent and sounds of Max making love to her. He reached for the hem of her top, wisped it over her head. His eyes blazed at the sight of her breasts, fuller, plumper, already preparing for childbirth. His hands moved there and massaged her. She startled. “Tender?”

“And itchy and in real need of attention.”

With a smile that was very male, he massaged them, then rolled each nipple between his fingers. She cupped his neck and brought his face down. Instead of closing his mouth over her, he asked, “Is this still okay?”

“Everything’s okay. I’m not going to shatter at your passion. Let go for me, John Blackwell, Jr.”

He suckled with fervor. He tracked kisses to her abdomen, went lower. He nuzzled her curls, then palmed her. She went off before he could go further.

Afterward, he said, “Oh, geez, I didn’t know you were that close.”

“Hormones rage through me all day long. I hope you can keep up.”

“I think I can.” He slid two fingers inside her and explored. Prodded. For about two seconds. She came again.

A huge grin. “God, I’m going to love these six months.”

She sat up and pushed on his chest, pressing him down to his back. “Since you sleep nude, I don’t have to bother with clothes.”

“You usually do, too.”

“I’ve been shy about my body with all this between us.”

He gave a light tap to her rear. “Well, you have gained some weight.” His teasing felt good, normal.

“All in my breasts, I think.” She frowned. “How could I have not known, Max?”

“You didn’t want to, babe. Now, could you shut up and get to work?”

She worked him all right, made him put his hands on the slats of the headboard, promise not to let go but stretch out and do nothing. Soon, he was writhing on the bed.

“Fuck, Whitney, tell me I can let go.”

“Not yet.”

More attention to the hardest part of him.

“Whitney, say I can let go.”

“Um.”

He bucked.

“You can let go.”

In a flash, she found herself on her back, albeit gently, then he turned her onto her side. Locking his gaze with hers, he scissored her legs. “We haven’t gone this far.”

“It’s time. I want you so much.”

He slid inside her, waited, pushed farther, waited. Then he thrust into her, easy at first, then hard, then harder. She felt his spasms begin right before her own consumed her once again.

o0o

They slept through the night and before she awakened, Max got up and called the CICU to check on his father and was relieved to hear he’d had a restful night. Then Max cooked breakfast and went back into the room, carrying her favorite fluffy waffles. He stopped at the doorway. Naked now, she lay on her side, facing the windows. He could see her hand rub her stomach gently. Jesus, his eyes moistened again. He cleared his throat.

She turned over, smiled when she saw him, pushed herself up to lean against the headboard and pulled the sheet up. He set the tray in front of her and kissed her nose. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She grabbed a piece of bacon and bit into it.

“I called the hospital and work. They said Dad’s fine. I told CICU to tell him we’d be there later.”

“I’m glad he’s doing well. Did Lorelei stay the night?”

“When she kicked me out she said she’d be around.”

“She seems like a lovely woman.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Anything new on the case?” Whitney asked.

He circled to his side of the bed, slid onto the mattress and up against the pillow so they could share the meal. The smell of fresh dough made his stomach growl. Cutting off a section of waffle, he popped it into his mouth. It practically melted, it was so flaky. “Yeah, they found another bomb at one of the locations we discovered when they broke the code. So our analysis was spot on. More than one person implemented the plan.”

“Did the bomb go off?” Whitney asked.

“No. They got to the thing before it exploded. They also checked the other two sites but no bombs so far.” He chomped down bacon that was crunchy the way Whitney liked it.

“Did the FBI interview Lucy Alcott?”

“Last night. She admitted she was in covert meetings with some other Republicans about privatizing Social Security.”

“Huh.”

“Man, I don’t understand that. This is insurance that people pay into, not some kind of handout from the government.”

“Social Security is going bankrupt.”

“Are they, or is this an excuse to start wiping out all government programs to help people?”

“Bleeding liberal,” she said and leaned over to kiss him. “Did they increase Alcott’s security?”

“Yes.”

“Enough work talk. How long shall we take off?”

“Drew said not to come in today, of course, but I wouldn’t mind being away from the office the rest of the week. We don’t have another case.” If they went in, they’d be helping other teams and would be only assisting, but someone else could do that work if he and Whitney weren’t there.

“We have tons of comp time.” Agents were paid overtime, but there was a cap on earnings, so when they reached a certain level of money, they took the rest in days off. “Let’s do it.”

“I’ll call him back later.”

“We should tell your dad about the baby now.”

It had been up to her all along when to confide in his father, but he wasn’t going to point that out. As far as he was concerned, she could say or do anything she wanted for the next six months and he wouldn’t complain. God, already he was a sap.

“I will. Your cousins?”

“Connor’s going back to Lakeville today. I need for him to know. But let’s wait until I see the doctor again.”

“When is that?”

“A week from today. Right at twelve weeks.” Her eyes danced. “On this visit, we can listen to the heartbeat again and I can enjoy it.” She hesitated. “Also, three months is usually the end of the danger period of having a miscarriage, so I’d rather wait till then.”

“That isn’t going to happen to us.”

“I know.”

“It’s all a bit overwhelming, though.”

“Having a baby is going to be, too, Max.”

“I know, sweetheart. But we’re in this together.”

She changed the subject. “Let’s finish eating, get dressed and go to the hospital. I’ll call Connor on the way.”

They consumed the food, and he cleared the tray away. When he returned, he heard the water running in the bathroom.

Hormones rage through me all day long. I hope you can keep up.

Oh, he could keep up, all right. He headed into the bathroom. When he opened the shower door, he saw she had a head full of shampoo. But she said, “What took you so long?”

Man, this was heaven.

o0o

They found Lorelei Denning with John when they reached the CICU that morning. She sat on the side of the bed in a chair. His father was hooked up to oxygen in his nose and some other tubes, but still they held hands.

Max stopped short. Frowned. “Did you stay all night?”

“Yes, out in the waiting area. They let me in periodically to sit with him.”

Lorelei was dressed in a pale lavender sweat suit. “I brought this with me to change into.” She stood, threw back her head, and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get some coffee.”

When she was gone, Whitney turned to John and grasped his hand.

“I’m going to have a baby.”

His eyes filled as Max’s had, and his face shone with so much love and joy Whitney let out a little breath. Everybody would be invested in this child. “I couldn’t be happier.”

“Yes, us too,” Max said. They wouldn’t tell him the indecision that led up to this moment.

“You’re in for a ride. Later, I’ll tell you some stories about our pregnancy with Max and his childhood.”

“I can’t wait.”

They spent the day alternating visits with Lorelei, but got some time alone with her. They learned that Lorelei’s husband died two years ago of a heart attack, which explained John’s reluctance to call her. She had two sons, both of whom had two sons. So she was a grandma. John had never met them, either.

Later in the afternoon, when they were with John, Whitney yawned.

“You need to take her home for a nap, son.”

She caught the glint in Max’s eye. Nap time meant a lot more than sleeping. But from the same glint in John’s eyes, he knew that, too.

They left the hospital and Whitney couldn’t have been happier.

o0o

On Thursday morning, Max drove Whitney to her counseling session at 8:00 a.m. Before she got out of the car, she turned in the seat. “My heart’s beating so fast, it almost hurts.”

“PTSD is tough. I know some agents who were in Iraq before they joined the service who went through this kind of counseling. But you can do it, love.” He touched her stomach. “You have reason to.”

She kissed his cheek, exited the car and hurried to the small brownstone in Georgetown. She went around to the office entrance and Eve let her in. Today, she noted that the therapist was pretty, with blond curly hair and big hazel eyes. She wore jeans this morning, and a sweater that looked to be cashmere. “Hello, Whitney.” She cocked her head after Whitney sat. “You seem different today.”

“Very insightful, Doc.”

“Tell me.”

“I decided over the weekend that I want to have this baby. I don’t want an abortion.”

Once again, Eve’s light eyebrows skyrocketed. “Wow. That was quick.”

“Things converged for me. Realizing I had a condition I could name and maybe manage, that I might be able to get over this fear, Max’s utter patience. Then his dad had a heart attack…” She told Eve the rest of the story simply, and when she heard it aloud again, she realized her reasoning made sense.

“I’m glad you have that figured out. Now, we have to deal with the PTSD. We’ll need to go back and analyze triggers.”

“I went online again, Eve. I couldn’t find much about this kind of PTSD. Most of the published texts dealt with PTSD for veterans and emergency personnel.”

“The type of PTSD that plagues government agents hasn’t been subject to much research. Which is why one chapter in my new book deals with how PTSD interferes in marriages and relationships.” She winked. “And who knows, I might add a chapter on childhood trauma and the malady. But let’s start with the basics.” She held up her thumb. “You have fears you can’t control, and they produce anxiety.” A finger popped up. “Second, you have nightmares and wake up thinking you’re in the crash.”

“Yes, but something always changes in the dream. The victims aren’t my mother and father. They’re my cousins, Aunt Deidre. Max a few times.”

“That displacement is more common in PTSD. For you, losing your parents in such a horrific way gets all tangled up with the current situation.”

“So what do we do?”

“Unlearn that behavior. Discuss how this has happened before, so the next time it comes, your psyche will know what you’re doing.”

“I’m game.”

“Here’s something else to think about. The third symptom we have to deal with is how you’ve emotionally insulated yourself.”

“I’m not sure that applies to me. I have these fears of something happening to someone I love, which shows I am invested.”

“Let’s talk about those people,” Eve said. “Your family.”

“I’m close to them.”

“You told me Monday you couldn’t help but be. So, the fears center on them. But I’d like to talk about Max, too. And your history with men.”

“There haven’t been many.”

“How many?”

“That I’ve dated?”

“Start with that. Any serious relationships?”

Whitney thought back. She didn’t ever consciously dwell on the past, so she hadn’t given much consideration to the men in her life. “Two. One in college, but I broke it off.”

“Why?”

She thought back to the outgoing guy who wanted to be a cop. “I got bored, I guess.”

“Hmm.”

“Then there was someone in my late twenties.”

“And I’ll bet you broke that off, too.”

“Yeah, he wanted to get serious. I wanted to join the Secret Service instead.” She frowned. “There isn’t anything wrong with that, is there?”

“Not unless it creates a pattern of inuring yourself against pain.”

“I invested in Max.”

“Did you really? Think about it.”

“Eve, I was destroyed when he left me.”

“I know. You formed an attachment after years of being together. But initially, he was a man who didn’t demand emotional commitment from you. A man who wouldn’t depend on you and whom you wouldn’t need in your life.”

“Like I said, I do need him.”

“That happened by accident, don’t you think? And you both were forced to admit your real feelings when he found someone else.”

“I suppose.” Whitney was thoughtful. “So, how do I deal with all this, Eve?”

“Well, first saying anything out loud tends to make it less scary. We can pick the pieces apart in broad daylight, and find ways to manage them. For example, you avoided intimacy with men all your life because you were afraid something was going to happen to them. That got extended to a child. So let’s try to come up with some coping mechanisms.”

Whitney was flummoxed. She’d never seen her relationship with Max that way. She’d never realized her patterns with men. And she never thought she could find ways to deal with her issues about having a baby. Her hand went to her stomach. Maybe, just maybe, she’d make progress this time.

o0o

When Max returned to Eve Evans’ office two hours after he dropped off Whitney, he waited in his car, glad she let him drive her to the session. It was snowy out and he hated to have her drive in bad weather now. But she was fiercely independent and the only time she allowed him to coddle her was after a nightmare. He wondered briefly if she’d let him take care of her now. He wanted to protect her and the baby forever. And where had that caveman streak come from?

The door to the office opened and she came through it. Wearing high sheepskin boots, jeans and a brown pea coat, she looked young and cute. Not like a woman going through something as awful as PTSD.

Getting out, he rounded the car and opened the door for her. She frowned.

“Humor me,” he said, kissing her cheek.

When he got back inside, he didn’t start the engine but turned to face her directly. She seemed a bit drained but not sad. “How did the session go?”

“It was eye-opening. She said I was using you for sex all this time.”

He shrugged casually. “I was using you, too.”

The corners of her mouth turned up. “I thought that would get a rise out of you.”

“Nah. It’s true. We agreed on sex with no strings. That’s what friends-with-benefits are.”

She lay her head against the headrest. “How did we slip into something else?”

“We weren’t paying attention, admitting our relationship kept getting deeper. I know for myself, I was afraid you’d boot me out on my ass if I told you I had different kinds of feelings for you.”

“Eve said it goes deeper than that for me. She said I’ve chosen men in my life who I knew I wouldn’t have to commit to. She said it’s a kind of emotional numbing. I couldn’t do it with my family. They wouldn’t let me. But everybody else was off-limits.”

“Until now. Until us.” He took her hand in his. “Are you sorry?”

“No. She was right about something else, too. I feel lighter getting it out in the open.”

“Good.” He turned the key in the ignition. “So, here’s what I planned for today.”

o0o

They visited his dad in the CICU and found out he would be moved to a private room that night. Since Lorelei had left to get some rest at home, the three of them talked about why he and Lorelei had kept their relationship a secret. Simply put, they’d planned to tell their children before all this had happened with Max but had put it off. Why not before then? They wanted their privacy to find out what their relationship was. Love, they’d determined after a few months.

After a quick lunch at a local place, Max and Whitney arrived home about two. Whitney walked into her condo and stopped short. In the kitchen eating area, she saw a big spray of the most unusual flowers. She stared at the eight-by-ten arrangement in a wooden tray, then crossed to it.

She fingered the greens, smelling their pungent scent. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Yeah, I was trying for unusual. I saw something close to this in a flower-shop window one day and went back there. They made one up for me.”

She inhaled what looked like red-velvet roses. “I know these, but what about the others?”

He fished a slip of paper out of his pocket and read from it. “Mokara orchids, safari sunset, smokebush and seeded eucalyptus.”

She laughed that he had to write the names down. “Do you know which is which?”

“Yep.” He pointed to each type. “And the pomegranates are preserved.” Two big fat ones sat among the other flowers.

“I didn’t know you had such a romantic side to you.”

He came up behind her. Whispered in her ear. “You’re so unique, and besides, I wanted something special.”

“What made you think to get them in the first place?”

He embraced her from behind, cuddled her close to his chest. His scent, woodsy and smelling of the cold air, filled her head. “Because this morning I realized I never once, in three years, sent you flowers.”

“Friends don’t send friends flowers.”

“Maybe they should. In any case, we’re so much more now. I wanted to mark that change, I guess.”

“I love them.”

He chuckled in her ear. “You said once you weren’t a flower-type girl.”

She turned in his arms. “Maybe I am now. Maybe you’ll find out I’m all sorts of things you never thought I was.”

“Maybe.”

Darkness started to seep into her. “What if you don’t like me, way down deep, Max? The things you never knew.”

“We’re bound to discover aspects of each other we don’t like. Every couple does. But because we’re in love, we can tolerate any of those things.”

“You know, you’re right. I didn’t know you could be such an emotional wimp. You really should clean up your act.”

“This grief? After I make such a nice gesture.”

“Yeah, I’m a bad girl.”

“And tough. Sometimes, I like that. Lately, not so much.”

“Oh, I was real tough New Year’s Eve and the immediate aftermath.”

“Let’s not talk about that again. I still feel bad about it.”

“Then, make love to me, Max. And make it good.”

He took her hand to lead her to the bedroom. She stopped after a few steps. “Can we bring the flowers?”

“Ha! Now who’s an emotional wimp?”