The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child. Helen R. Myers

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at ballet,” he said. “Can I buy you a coffee at Bean There Café?”

      “That works for me,” she agreed, but still gave him no indication what it was she wanted to talk about.

      So he worried about it while he cooked spaghetti for dinner, and though he gently tried to elicit details from Maddie about her day at school, his daughter was uncharacteristically close-mouthed, a fact which only increased his apprehension. They loaded the dishwasher together after they’d finished eating, then she washed up and went to get changed for her dance class, but there was no enthusiasm in her step and no sparkle in her eye.

      When he got to the café, he noted that Ashley looked almost as apprehensive as he felt.

      “What did she do?” he asked without preamble when he brought their drinks—regular black coffee for him, a cinnamon dolce latte for Ashley—to the table.

      “She didn’t do anything wrong,” she hastened to reassure him. “I just thought you should be aware that your daughter is expressing an interest in you finding a new wife.”

      He exhaled a sigh of relief. “I thought maybe she’d stabbed that annoying Charlie Partridge with her safety scissors.”

      Her eyes flashed. “I’m glad you think this is funny.”

      “I don’t,” he assured her. “But I was envisioning so many worse things that the truth almost seems anticlimactic.” He sipped his coffee, considering her revelation. “How did this come up?”

      “She asked me—” her gaze slid away from his, her cheeks flushed with color “—if I was going to marry you.”

      Despite her obvious embarrassment, he couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “Did you tell her that I hadn’t asked you … yet?”

      “Will you stop joking about this?” Ashley demanded, obviously not amused. “She’s at an impressionable age and obviously looking for a mother figure.”

      “I know,” he admitted. “I just didn’t realize how much until recently.”

      Ashley sipped her latte.

      “You told me she doesn’t see her mother on a regular basis,” she reminded him gently. “Is there anything you can do to change that?”

      “Not likely. Danica comes to visit whenever it’s convenient for her, and that’s not more than two or three times a year. The four weeks that Maddie spent in London this summer is more time than she usually spends with her mother in a whole year.”

      And he wasn’t entirely sure she’d spent most of that time with her mother, because she’d come home with a new handheld video game system and half a dozen games that Danica had bought to keep her busy while she “finished up some work.”

      “What about telephone calls?” Ashley prompted.

      “Her mother tries to call once a week.”

      “Tries?”

      He sighed. “What do you want me to say, Ash? I knew when I married Danica that she was committed to building her career. I didn’t know that she was committed to her career at the expense of all else, but that’s the way it is.”

      “Okay, so maybe she isn’t a candidate for mother of the year,” Ashley allowed, “but Maddie is her daughter and she needs her mother.”

      “Danica doesn’t see it that way.”

      It was obvious that Ashley didn’t understand. Hell, he wasn’t sure he understood, but he’d long ago accepted that Maddie would never have a close relationship with her mother.

      “The truth is,” he heard himself say, “Danica never wanted to have children.”

      Ashley stared at him, as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. He could hardly believe he was telling her. But this was Ashley, and if he wanted a second chance with her—and he’d finally accepted that he did—he had to be honest with her, and he had to trust that she would understand.

      “I’ve never admitted this to anyone else—not even my parents—but Madeline wasn’t planned,” he confided to her. “In fact, Danica wasn’t very happy when she realized she was pregnant.”

      That was an understatement, but he couldn’t admit to anyone, even so many years later, that Danica hadn’t been happy at all. In fact, she’d been furious. Having apparently managed to put aside the grief of a previous miscarriage, she was too busy building a career to want to have a baby.

      Cam had tried to understand. Maybe it wasn’t what either of them had envisioned for a marriage that was barely into its sixth month, he’d admitted, but her pregnancy didn’t change their plans, it merely accelerated them. Or so he’d believed, until he’d realized that, despite claiming to be pregnant when they married, Danica never really wanted to have children.

      He’d been stunned by her attitude—and furious when she’d suggested terminating her pregnancy. She wasn’t an unwed teenager, but a married woman and no way in hell was he going to agree to abort their child.

      And so was laid the first brick in the wall that built up between them.

      “But she fell in love with her baby when she held her in her arms,” Ashley guessed, obviously unable to imagine any other possibility.

      Which was exactly what Cam had hoped would happen.

      But the truth was, Danica only agreed to have the baby so long as he assumed complete responsibility for their child after the birth. And he’d gone along with her demands, certain that her attitude toward their child would change through the course of her pregnancy. But the distance between them continued to grow along with the baby in her womb.

      “She tried to be a good mother,” Cam said in defense of his ex-wife, because he wanted to believe it was true. And because, when he realized some hard truths about her own childhood, he knew she’d handled the situation in the way that she believed was best for their child. “But Madeline was a difficult baby and after working fourteen hours at the office, Danica didn’t have the patience for a demanding infant.”

      “She went back to work right after having the baby?”

      “Her career meant a lot to her,” he said, all too aware that it didn’t just sound like a lame excuse, it was a lame excuse.

      “More than her family?” Ashley demanded incredulously. “And what about your career?”

      “I was still finishing my internship.”

      “And taking care of the baby,” she guessed.

      “There was a retired woman who lived above us who helped out a lot, but I was happy to do as much as I could between shifts at the hospital.”

      “That couldn’t have been easy.”

      “It wasn’t easy,” he agreed. “But I was happy to do it, to be the one who was there when she cut her first tooth, when she spoke her first word, when she took her first step.” And each one of those precious moments was indelibly imprinted on his memory.

      “I

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