Chapter Twelve
Normally, Hunter could walk into his house at any time of day or night and find it in orderly condition. Ever since Gentry moved in, he risked breaking his neck whenever he didn’t keep his eyes on the floor.
Her shoes—with those expensive-looking red soles—were kicked off willy-nilly in the mudroom, turning it into an obstacle course. The kitchen sink now held at least one or more rinsed dishes, cups, or glasses because, apparently, his sister hadn’t ever learned how to open the dishwasher.
Like a warped version of Hansel and Gretel, he could literally follow the trail of opened magazines, stray socks, and tea bag wrappers to find his sister wherever she lazed about in his home. Today she was lying on the family room sofa with her laptop on her stomach and earphones in. Her head bobbed from side to side to the beat of some song as she swayed one foot to that same beat.
“Gentry.” When she didn’t answer, he moved closer and tapped her head. “Gentry.”
She started. “Oh, hey.”
A quick glance at the screen showed A CertainTea’s Facebook page. At least she was working on something for Colby instead of lounging around while Sara waited on her. “Don’t we have to leave for the doctor soon?”
“Yep.”
He waved around at the mess she’d made. “How about you clean all this stuff up before we hit the road. I don’t want Sara to be your maid.”
“Me neither. I was hoping to make you my maid.” She snickered.
“Ha-ha.” He wondered how often he’d be telling his child or children to clean up, do their homework, respect their mother, and on and on and on. The mere thought made him a little exhausted.
He’d be a dad soon. Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d be any good at it. The confidence that fueled his competence at most things remained elusive in this realm.
“What’s wrong?” Gentry closed her laptop and lugged herself off the sofa.
“Nothing. Please fold that blanket before you tackle the kitchen. I’ll go get Sara.” He kissed Gentry’s head and then trotted up the steps.
He hadn’t quite decided how he felt about Sara standing her ground about the Angel House, but he was sick of fighting. He’d let it go for both their sakes and because he didn’t want Gentry to see them bicker. For now, he’d bite his tongue even though he knew Sara would get hurt—physically or emotionally—by being so invested in those people’s lives.
He strolled down the hallway toward the master suite. “Babe, you back here?”
He entered the room at the same time she was exiting the master bathroom. She finished fastening her earring and then gave him a warm kiss hello. Her mood had been better since he’d backed down from the argument. “Just about ready.”
Her smile—an unwitting weapon—melted him, just like it always did. In the days since they’d informally agreed to this adoption, Sara had been humming and smiling and more like her old self than she had in ages. He owed Gentry a lot for this gift. If only the overall positive mood in the house would help him forget about his trouble at work.
“Uh-oh, you just thought about the office.” Sara sighed while she slipped on her shoes. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t want to complain that he was running out of legitimate reasons to delay the due diligence documents Pure Foods had requested, or lament that his hopes were all pinned on his ready-made bottled tea idea, which might require a trip to New York. If that option died, he might truly need to prepare to kiss Cabot Tea Company goodbye. “Just stuff on my mind.”
He knew she knew what he was thinking about. Instead of inviting him to share his troubles, she said, “This appointment should cheer you up. Today we’ll hear the heartbeat and see some kind of ultrasound.”
Perhaps it was best for her to keep him moving forward. To remind him that his life had other meaning, too.
“According to the book you gave me, we won’t see too much today. At this early stage, the fetus is only about as big as a kidney bean.”
She brightened. “Oh, Hunter, you’ve been reading up! Thank you. I know this is a busy time for you. I really appreciate the effort.”
“Exactly how appreciative are you?” He kissed her again, letting his hands run down her waist and over her hips. He knew her body so well and still wanted it every bit as much as he ever had. He tugged her closer, suddenly wishing they had a little extra time.
She pushed away. “Gentry’s right downstairs.”
“So?”
“She’s awake and waiting for us.”
“I think she knows we have sex, Sara.”
Sara blushed. “We don’t have time right now, and besides, she’s walking around. What if she bursts in on us?”
“She wouldn’t burst in without knocking.” As he said the words, he remembered that she’d almost done that two nights ago. She’d knocked first as a warning but then wandered into their room with a bowl of popcorn, plopped herself at the bottom of their mattress while they watched TV, and asked if she could hang out for a while. “Okay, she might do that. I can lock the door.”
“She’s lonely and displaced. I don’t want her to feel unwelcome.” Sara briefly kissed his neck.
“She is unwelcome in our room, for God’s sake.”
“She’s only here for a short while, and she’s giving us so much. Surely we can keep her company at night.” Sara eased out of his arms. “I think she’s scared.”
“Scared?”
“Of course. Her body is undergoing massive changes. Her relationship with her parents is worse than ever. Her future is still so uncertain.”
He hadn’t stopped to consider all that. He’d been consumed with his own concerns about the adoption, the Angel House, and fending off Pure Foods. It would be scary to grow a person in your body. Then again, how freakin’ amazing? But the upcoming months would leave Gentry feeling a bit at odds, no doubt. “I’ll talk to her more about trying to set up some consulting business.”
Sara rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Only you think the answer to every problem is a career.”
“That’s not true or fair, but her future is important. At least it’s something I’m qualified to help her with. It’s not like she wants my fashion advice.”
“Why not use this time to get to know her better? There doesn’t always have to be a bigger purpose. Talk about music or travel or books.”
“She reads?” His joke fell flat. Rather than argue, he asked, “How long do you think she’ll be here?”
“I don’t know, and I’m not asking. As far as I’m concerned, she’s welcome for as long as she needs us.” She plucked her purse off the chaise.
Hunter let his head fall back and sighed. He didn’t want to be ungrateful, but if they had only a few months before they’d be parents, he’d like to spend that time alone with his wife. “Has she set up any Realtor appointments?”
“Not yet.” She stroked his arm. “I admit I’m surprised you aren’t taking advantage of an opportunity to persuade her to see things your way when it comes to CTC.”
That was the closest she’d come to opening the door to a conversation about work in days.
Hunter shook his head. “I won’t make things awkward here by bringing that up or give her any ammo to take back to her mom. The less Gentry knows about what I’m doing, the better.”
Sara stilled. “Is that why you’ve been so tight-lipped with me, too?”
“I know how you feel about CTC, so I’m not bothering you with it.”
She frowned. “Just because I don’t always agree with everything you think doesn’t mean I don’t want you to talk to me.”
She said that now, but he knew better. Things at home had improved a bit since he’d stopped dumping all his worries in his wife’s lap. He’d resolve those things without Sara’s help. He had Bethany to talk through strategies and such, anyway. “We’d better hit the road if we don’t want to be late.”
“I’m so excited.” Sara’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s go!”
An hour later, he and Sara were sitting near Gentry’s head, staring at a monitor, looking at the tiny blob that would be their baby. Although he was glad Jenna wasn’t at this first appointment, he felt torn about his dad missing out.
His wife’s watery eyes glistened. She kept squeezing Gentry’s hand and kissing her forehead. Hunter had never been effusive or overly demonstrative with anyone but Sara, but even his throat ached from the significance of what they were seeing.
“The black space is amniotic fluid, and this here is the baby’s head.” Dr. Sutton moved the cursor around the monitor and clicked things to measure the length of the embryo. “These here are little leg buds, and these are arm buds. That flickering is the baby’s heart beating.”
When the blob actually wriggled, they collectively gasped.
“Oh my God,” Sara whispered, her gaze transfixed on the screen, cheeks flushed.
“Do you want to hear the heartbeat?” the doctor asked.
“Yes,” Hunter said, eager to a degree that he hadn’t predicted. He looked at his sister with a new kind of awe. Her body was busy creating this life. He would put up with her messy habits for weeks or months if needed. He was as close to tears as he could remember being about anything since his wedding.
For the first time in history, Gentry didn’t make any wisecracks. She didn’t appear blasé or disinterested. If anything, she seemed transfixed and distant from Sara and him.
Dr. Sutton did something to the equipment, and soon a rapid, hushed whaw whaw whaw emanated from the speakers.
“He sounds like he’s in distress.” Hunter felt his face frown. That heartbeat matched the rate of his own whenever he biked up Hilltop Road.
“It’s actually quite normal. We’d expect anything between one hundred sixty to one hundred eighty beats per minute at this stage.” Dr. Sutton turned off the equipment, which made the room fall eerily silent.
“See, it’s already perfect.” Sara squeezed his arm and then patted Gentry’s head. “Just perfect.”
Hunter stole another look at his sister. Something about her expression—not quite haunted, but filled with an uneasy tension—turned his stomach. How must she feel now, looking at this monitor and seeing her baby growing inside her? Had it prompted doubts about her decision to give them the child?
Sara wouldn’t recover from another loss. He needed assurance that Gentry wouldn’t rescind her offer, and yet how could he pressure his own sister to give up her child?
Maybe he was reading into things. He leaned close to her. “How’re you doing?”
She started, not paying nearly as much attention to him as he had to her. “Glad to have that wand removed,” she quipped, defaulting to sarcasm as usual.
Under other circumstances, he would’ve been put off by the joke—by anything that called attention to that wand, really. Right now, he merely breathed a sigh of relief—and surprisingly not just for Sara’s sake—that she hadn’t changed her mind.
The doctor made one last note, then printed a photo and turned off the equipment. She handed it to Gentry, who looked down at her fingernails like she hated her turquoise nail polish. “Give it to Sara, please.”
Sara’s shaky hands cradled that photo as if it were the most fragile, beautiful thing on the planet.
“If you’re going to be like waterworks at every appointment, I might have to come alone,” Gentry warned as she scooted herself into an upright position.
Dr. Sutton patted Sara’s arm, then excused herself from the room.
“I’ll step out and let you get dressed.” Hunter hugged Gentry and realized it had probably been a long time since he’d really hugged her. His mind drifted to Colby’s recent talking-to about how the two of them needed to make Gentry feel less like a “half” sibling. “Thanks for letting us be part of this. For everything.”
She wouldn’t meet his gaze. In fact, she didn’t say anything, which brought that queasiness back.
Hours later, Hunter slipped out of bed, restless. He padded downstairs to the kitchen to grab a yogurt and brew a cup of CTC’s Sleepy Tea. When he entered the dark kitchen, he found Gentry staring at the ultrasound picture Sara had put on the refrigerator. While her pointer finger stroked the image, Hunter’s stomach hit the floor.
He didn’t want to frighten her. “Psst.”
She recoiled, then turned around. “Can’t sleep?”
“No. Big day.” He crossed his arms, trying to decide how to quell his concerns.
She nodded, averting her gaze.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I suppose that depends on your perspective.” She wrinkled her nose. “I wish I were meeting up with friends at a club now, not sitting in a dark kitchen with a glass of milk.”
He could joke or he could try to get to know her better. “Do you really miss it, or are you secretly enjoying the excuse to slow down?”
She shrugged. Noncommittal as ever. “What I’m going to miss most is men. Don’t you have any friends besides Alec that you could bring home to keep me company?” She folded her hands in prayer and grinned.
“Don’t expect me to play matchmaker. You want to get serious about starting your own consulting business, I’m your go-to guy. You want boyfriend advice, ask Sara and Colby.” He crossed to the pantry to fish out a tea bag. After filling a cup with water, he set it in the microwave, remembering the EMT Sara had mentioned. He repressed the sick feeling he got anytime he remembered that brush with violence and said, “The other day, Sara met someone who sounded like a good guy.”
“The humanitarian? He has a girlfriend, and besides, Sara and I don’t have the same taste in men.” As an afterthought, Gentry grimaced. “No offense.”
“None taken.” He grinned. And then, because he couldn’t get the worry out of his head, and he’d always been one to favor the cold, hard truth over all else, he asked, “If you start having second thoughts about all this, you’d tell me right away, wouldn’t you? Because the longer you let Sara believe she’s going to be this child’s mother, the harder it will be for her to accept a different outcome.”
“You love her.” Gentry tipped her head. “It’s pretty sweet, Hunter. You’re usually a scary guy, but when it comes to Sara, you’re one big pile of mush.”
He let the “scary guy” comment pass because he didn’t want her deflecting the conversation. “I love her completely, which is why I worry.”
“I love her, too.” The kitchen was dim, so he couldn’t be sure, but he thought his sister’s eyes looked dewy. “Good night.”
She left him alone with his thoughts, which is when he realized that she’d never directly answered his question.