Surprise! Surprise!. Tina Leonard
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“How is Sam coping?”
“Sam is Sam,” Maddie said, her voice even. “Always the gentleman.”
“Hmm. Annoying, is it?”
Maddie laughed. “Maybe a little. Him being a gentleman makes me feel like a witch. I’ve brought all of this turmoil on myself and him, too, but he’s so nice about it that I’ve got guilt growing like a weed.”
“As your doctor, I must advise you to stop thinking like that, Maddie. It’s not healthy. You can’t relax if you’re letting yourself have it all the time. Sam is trying to help.”
“I know. But I can’t help thinking that if he were just a bit less of a prince, I wouldn’t feel quite so witchy.”
“It’s not normal,” Abby said with a sigh, “for a man to be so much more prince than frog, is it?”
“No! It’s not!” Maddie laughed, thankful for Abby’s insight. “And I don’t like feeling as if I’m the frog in the story. But that’s it. I’m an overweight, warty frog.”
“I suspect that’s very contrary to Sam’s way of thinking. If a man gives a woman all the love and kindness and consideration he can, shouldn’t she be happy? Shouldn’t she feel like a princess?” Laughter colored Abby’s tone. “Mix that with after-pregnancy hormones, and you’ve got a real emotional cocktail for Sam.”
Maddie smiled. “Do you know any man who offers to change diapers? Go grocery shopping?”
“Not many. But maybe—maybe, Maddie—you deserve this handsome prince.”
“We weren’t happy before.”
“Then don’t think about getting back together just yet. Play it by ear. You’ll have no expectations to meet. Goodbye, guilt. Pfft! Just like that.”
“That won’t make Sam happy. He wants a traditional family. And he doesn’t want me hitting the test tubes again,” Maddie said slowly. “He wants to try to have children the, um, coital way.”
“Sometimes the floodgates open after a pregnancy, Maddie.”
Her heart lifted at that piece of good news. “Do they really?”
“Oddly enough, yes. In fact, many women get pregnant after giving birth much more quickly than they would like.”
“Oh, my.” Maddie’s heart started pounding at the thought of her big, handsome husband inside her again. Lovemaking with Sam was wonderfully addicting. Pleasurable memories gave her skin goose pimples. “Sam has princely tendencies in that area, too,” she said, her tone wistful.
“Doesn’t feel so bad when you think about those good old days, does it?” Abby asked with a laugh. “Six weeks, please. And I’ll need to see you in two.”
“But what if it doesn’t take?” Maddie asked. “What if my floodgates don’t open?”
“I can’t assure you that they will,” Abby said, “but two babies are enough if it means you and Sam are happy together. Everybody’s got to compromise a little. I’ll see you in two weeks, and in the meantime, let that gorgeous husband of yours pamper you. The nurses here have talked about nothing else since they laid eyes on him the day the twins were born. Just like that Mason Blackstone. My goodness, he’s certainly turned the place upside down. I believe he could get raffled off among the nurses.”
“Those twins are fine, then?”
“Yes, thriving, I’m happy to say. Mason’s a lot like Sam, just as devoted. There’re a lot of disappointed ladies around here. Too bad Sam only had eyes for his wife,” she said. “We should all be so plagued. Ta-ta, dear.”
The line went dead as Abby’s cheery voice faded. “Goodbye,” Maddie said slowly, turning off the portable phone. Maybe Abby was right. “Maybe I’m really not a frog,” she murmured. Perhaps just overly cautious. Neither she nor Sam had been happy at the end. But her soul had twisted when Sam said he’d expected her to choose him.
She hadn’t expected him to actually walk out of their marriage. And then leave the country.
For nine months.
It had hurt so much. He didn’t have to go so far away. She had thought their marriage was finished. And now he wanted to walk back into her life. She understood he was motivated by the babies, but it hit an off note in her heart that he’d had no intention of coming back for her.
She thought about Mason Blackstone, and his vigilant care of the twins he’d found himself unexpectedly fathering. They’d been born a scant two hours after Maddie’s, so she’d followed their progress with interest. Mason had been with those babies every second upon discovering he was their sole guardian. Sam was reacting the same way Mason Blackstone had upon finding himself in a paternal role. He was being protective. Caring. Sheltering.
It was an instinct she appreciated but selfishly, she wanted more. She wanted Sam to have returned to her without knowing about the children. She wanted Sam to have never walked out that door. She wanted him to have stayed in America.
She wanted all the doubt to go away. She wanted forgiveness to rush into her soul, instead of guilt.
No matter how hard she tried to keep him at arm’s length, he was determined to sneak back into her heart. Yet the equation was lopsided.
Secretly, she was hurt that he’d talked to Martin about keeping her from using his DNA. She wouldn’t have hit the sperm bank again without discussing it with Sam, and she felt he should have known that. Or talked to her about it. They were running on different tracks, or maybe she expected his trust when she didn’t deserve it.
But a real fear underlay the hurt she was hiding behind. Walking into the bathroom, she stared at the water fountain their mothers had tried so hard to build. Despite their best intentions, it hadn’t quite worked out right.
“Okay,” she said to the curvaceous metal woman that adorned the fountain. “Say that Sam and I put the past behind us. But then we can’t get pregnant again. I don’t think that would be good for Sam’s ego, especially since I’ve conceived without him.”
She dabbled her finger in the water that pooled at the bottom of the statue’s skirt. “I could compromise. I could say that two babies are all I want, although Sam probably wouldn’t believe me at this point. And he’s already ruled out any further lab experiments, as he puts it.” She sighed, wondering if she could trim the picture of the large family she’d always dreamed of down to two. “Maybe my skin is green and warty,” she said to the spitting woman.
The water fitz-fitzed unabated.
“Suck it up, sister,” Maddie told her. “You’re not exactly perfect yourself.”
THE PHONE RANG as Maddie stepped from the shower. She picked up the portable she’d left on the bathroom counter. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Mrs. Sam Winston, please?”
Puzzled, Maddie frowned at the foreign accent. “This is