Page 34

As Dad and Jean Paul left for the kitchen, Mom crossed and gave me a tight hug. She pulled me close, and then for a split second her body stiffened. She pulled back, and her gaze dropped to my belly. “Daisy Sheila McCrae.”

I smiled, sheepish.

She frowned. Her hand slid to my stomach as if she needed to confirm her thought.

“Surprise?”

She closed her eyes for a moment. “Why don’t we have a chat in your room?”

No avoiding this conversation. I’d not really worried about telling Mom about the baby, but now that crunch time had arrived, I wasn’t so sure of myself. “Sure.”

Rachel glanced over the heads of the girls at me. She raised a brow as if to offer help, but I waved her away and followed Mom up to the third floor.

When I closed my door, her gaze narrowed. “You’re pregnant.” I shoved out a breath.

“Yeah.”

She rubbed her temple with the tips of her fingers. “How did you manage this?”

“Would you like a play-by-play?”

“Don’t be smart, Daisy. I know how you managed it. Start with when and then maybe who.”

“The night before I returned to the bakery. Call it a memento of my going-away party.”

“Daisy, you’re thirty-four years old, and I taught all you girls about the birds and the bees.”

Having this kind of lecture from my mom rankled, but I deserved it. “Stuff happens. I didn’t plan it. And believe me, I’ve been in a state of shock.”

She glanced at my belly. “How long have you known?”

“About a week. I didn’t catch on right away and chalked the difference up to stress.”

She sighed, clearly frustrated she’d missed it as well. Mom prided herself on keeping her finger on the pulse of the family. “So that flu you had the last couple of weeks ...”

“Delayed morning sickness. Seems morning sickness can come at any time in the pregnancy, and I’m here to say it doesn’t occur only in the morning but can linger all day long.”

Mom shook her head, a hint of sympathy softening her features. “It was that way when I carried Margaret. She made me sick as a dog.”

“Well, my kid is doing the same to me.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “How’d you get through it?”

“I look back and wonder how I did do it all. Your dad and I had only been married months, I was still adjusting to working in the bakery, and your grandmother wasn’t crazy about me. And then I found out I was pregnant.”

It didn’t occur to me my pregnancy experience could mirror Mom’s. “What did you do?”

“A lot of ginger ale and crackers behind the counter, and I just kept putting one foot in front of the other.”

“What did Dad say?”

“I think he was terrified and excited. We were barely making it, and soon we’d have another mouth to feed.”

I groaned. “I’m feeling the same way. Scared, sick, and worried.”

“You’re Dad and I rolled into one.” She patted me on the shoulder. “But you’re the strongest of us all, Daisy. And you’re not alone. You’ve got the McCrae clan, as imperfect as we are, behind you.”

Love and gratitude tightened my chest. “The kid and I are going to need you.”

“The kid.” Her eyes softened. “I didn’t think you wanted children.”

“I didn’t. But I’m growing fond of this kid.”

Mom placed her hand on my belly. Round and hard, there was no missing the fact it was a baby bump. “When are you due?”

“Before Christmas.”

She laughed. “Oh, dear. That’ll make for a hectic season.”

Unable to read her tone, I was suddenly unsure. “I’m sorry about all this. I thought I had a handle on my life.”

She shook her head, an amused look in her eyes. “Sometimes good luck comes disguised as disaster, Daisy.” And then a smile brightened her eyes. “I’ve missed having a baby in the house. It’ll be nice.”

Tears filled my eyes. I’d not realized how much I needed to hear her say she was happy about the kid. “You’re not mad?”

“Honey, I’ve been in your shoes. Granted, I was married, but I didn’t plan on getting pregnant with Margaret so soon. But after Dad and I got over the shock, we felt more and more protective of her. After a week of knowing I was pregnant, I’d have been devastated if I lost her.”

“That’s how I feel.”

Mom grinned. “Oh, you wait. She’s going to take over your heart. You won’t know what hit you when this child arrives.”

I swiped away a tear. “Thanks.”

Mom frowned as she stared at my belly. “Gordon is not the father.” When my gaze turned from weepy to surprised, she arched a brow.

“I wasn’t born yesterday, Daisy. I get you were having sex when you were in Washington.

And from what you’ve told me, you and Gordon weren’t seeing each other at all then. ”

“No, we were not.”

“Have you told him?”

“Gordon or the birth father?”

“Both.”

“Yes to Gordon.”

She smoothed a stray lock of hair out of my eyes. “How did it go?” I shook my head, feeling the weight of Gordon’s disappointment.

“About as badly as you can imagine. He told me to get out.”

Mom frowned. “That doesn’t sound like Gordon.”

“If the shoe were on the other foot, I’d have thrown sharp metal objects at him.”

She patted my hand. “That I would expect from you.”

A faltering smile faded quickly. “He came by last night. He said he’d be the baby’s father if I didn’t contact the birth father.”

She didn’t speak. Mom had navigated the emotional minefield of my adoption for over thirty years. Her gut reaction would have been to agree with Gordon. But, like Rachel, she knew me. Knew my old, lingering frustrations about heritage. “Judging by your red eyes, I’d say you said no.”

“I understand his offer was from love. I do. But I couldn’t make that kind of promise. I couldn’t lie to my kid for the rest of her life.”

Mom’s eyes widened. “Her?”

“I keep saying her , but I don’t know for sure.”

She smiled. “I like the idea of another girl.”

“Another me?”

A laugh burst from Mom. “I’d never wish you away. I’m glad you’re in my life.”

“But I gave you a few gray hairs.”

“One or two. And I think I now stutter sometimes,” she teased.

“And now you’re about to meet Daisy Part Two.” The lightness in my voice didn’t match the tension in my gut.

She squeezed my hands. “We survived Daisy Part One, and seeing as I’m the grandmother of Daisy Two, I get to do the fun stuff. You get to do all the heavy lifting.”

The weight of that comment settled squarely on my shoulders. “Mom, I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“Language, Daisy.” Her gaze softened. “And you aren’t going to mess up. You’re going to be a good mother.”

All my insecurities rushed up and tightened my throat. “Are you sure, Mom? I don’t have a strong genetic history where motherhood is concerned. Terry abandoned me.”

Mom’s lips flattened. I knew she didn’t like Terry but had kept her thoughts to herself for my benefit.

“Terry was seventeen when you were born. She had a drug problem and no family. You can’t compare yourself to her.

” Mom cleared her throat. “And from what you’ve said, she’s parenting her two younger children well enough. ”

The comment had been meant to soothe, but it fueled my anxiety. “Why wasn’t I good enough to keep?”

Mom wrapped her arms around me. “You were good enough. She just had too many problems. I’ve tried to hold my tongue where Terry is concerned, but you need to understand the flaw was in her, not you.”

Dark fears lurking in the back of my mind elbowed their way to the front. “What if it’s in me? What if I inherited it?”

Mom shook her head, frustrated I’d ask such a question. To her the answer seemed obvious, but not to me. “When Daddy got sick ten years ago, which of you three girls did the vigil at the hospital?”

“We were all there.”

Mom shook her head. “One of my girls barely left his side. Which one was that?”

“Me.”

“And when the bakery ran into trouble four years ago, who gave Daddy the money to give to Mike?”

I’d written one hell of a large check, which had about wiped out my savings. “But it was easy because I was making a lot of money and thought the good times would go forever.”

Mom shook her head. “A lot of kids would have shrugged and said not my problem . You didn’t, Daisy. And when I asked you to come back to the bakery, what happened?”

“Was this when you got me drunk?”

Mom shrugged, no hint of apology. “What happened?”

“I came back with a terrible hangover.”

“And when you sobered up, you could have backed out.” She squeezed my hands. “My point is, Daisy, you’re not a runner or a quitter. You stay and fight. You have for this family, and you will for this baby.”

“How can you be sure?”

She shoved out an exasperated breath. “Daisy, your biggest weakness is your lack of confidence. I’ve done all I can to instill it in you, but there’s a deep fear in you that I can’t reach. You need to get to the root of it so you can find some peace.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Damn it, kid. You’re going to drive me to drink. Have you called Terry? What has she said about you being pregnant?”

“She hasn’t said. I’ve sent her emails, and she told me she’s travelling. She’ll contact me soon.”

“Good. She owes you answers about your birth father, Daisy.” She sat back. “And speaking of fathers, we need to tell your father.”

Butterflies gnawed at my gut. I’d worried about Mom’s reaction, but Dad’s really troubled me. He and I were wired alike. We thought alike. Got along well when we weren’t clashing heads. And the thought of seeing the disappointment on his face upset me. I didn’t want Dad to be disappointed in me.

“Why don’t you tell him? You’re good at smoothing over the rough spots with Dad.”

Mom shook her head. “Oh, no. This little gem is yours to share. But if you want me to be with you, I can sit by your side while you tell him.”

Crap. When was this pregnancy going to get easy? “No, I can tell Dad by myself.”

Footsteps sounded, and we heard Dad say, “Tell Dad what?”