1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [51]
That was when she felt it.
At first she wasn’t sure—and then it happened again.
The baby moved.
She pressed her hand to her stomach. “Well, hello,” she whispered. At her last visit, the doctor had told her she could expect to feel movement at any time. This was so light, like a butterfly landing on her arm, that for an instant she hadn’t even thought it was the baby.
She wanted to share this joy, but there was no one to tell. Not Bruce. Not Nate. No one.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she got her cell and called her husband.
As she’d feared, Jolene answered. “It’s Rachel.” Waiting for a sarcastic remark, she closed her eyes.
“Hi,” the thirteen-year-old said, sounding almost friendly. That quickly changed and Jolene’s voice hardened as she asked, “What do you want?”
It didn’t seem possible but for a second or two she wondered if Jolene had softened toward her… .
“Could I speak to your father?”
Jolene didn’t respond but Rachel heard her set down the phone and call her father. “Dad! It’s Rachel.”
“Rachel?” Bruce was on the line immediately, firing questions at her. “Where are you? Are you all right? Is anything wrong with the baby?”
“I’m fine,” she said, “and so is the baby.”
“Why did you block my number so I can’t call your cell?”
She didn’t want him checking up on her two or three times a day. The scene at the salon had left a bitter taste, and she’d blocked his numbers shortly after that.
“Like I said, I’m fine,” she assured him, rather than answer his question.
“The baby?”
“Yes.”
“Have you had the ultrasound yet?”
“Yes. A couple of days ago.”
“Did you find out what we’re having? A boy? A girl? One of each would suit me just fine,” he teased.
She didn’t even try to keep the smile out of her voice. “I asked the ultrasound technician not to tell me.”
“You don’t want to know?”
“I’d rather be surprised.”
There was a moment’s silence.
“I suppose Jane told you I stopped by the salon,” he murmured.
Actually, Rachel had been too busy to call her former employer in the past week. “No, she didn’t mention it.”
“Are you working? Do you need anything? Money? Groceries?”
“I can take care of myself, Bruce, but thank you for asking.” He did seem to worry about her, which made Rachel miss him all the more.
“You have another job?”
“I do.” She didn’t give him any more information, preferring to keep it to herself for fear of another embarrassing encounter at her workplace. She hoped to continue working at the shipyard until the baby was born.
“You have a job at another salon?”
“No.” Again, she didn’t elaborate.
“You left because of what happened that day with Jolene?”
The answer was obvious, so she didn’t reply. “How is Jolene?” she asked, broaching the subject of her step-daughter cautiously. Rachel hoped that once she was out of the house, their broken relationship could begin to heal. Perhaps that was an unrealistic expectation; Rachel no longer knew.
“Jolene is…adjusting,” he said, as though searching for the right word.
“Adjusting,” Rachel echoed, trying to determine exactly what he meant.
An awkward silence followed. What he didn’t say told her more than what he did. Nothing had really changed. Still, the biting sarcasm was gone when Jolene had initially answered the phone. It might be premature to feel hopeful, but she couldn’t resist grabbing hold of that small piece of encouragement.
“The nurse at the obstetrician’s said you’d called the office to ask about me and the baby.”
“Are you angry?”
“No…no, not at all. I—I was pleased.”
“You were?”
“I don’t mean to hide from you, Bruce. But…well, it’s difficult. For now, I think it’s best if we have limited contact.”
“I can’t accept that,” he said swiftly. “It’s been over a week since we talked and you kept the conversation so brief I hardly had a chance to find out how you are.”
“I kept it brief because you wouldn’t stop badgering me about where I’m living and for now that isn’t important.”
“Why is it such a secret?”
Rachel didn’t want this conversation to end on the same negative note as the one a week