He was angry. The things he said…. It doesn’t matter,” she went on. “He didn’t want me, he didn’t want the child. In those few moments I grew up years. He wasn’t the man I had wanted him to be, but I had the child. I wanted that baby.” Her fingers tightened on his. “I so desperately wanted that baby.”
“What did you do?”
“The only thing I could. There could be no dancing now. I left the company and went home. I know it was a burden for my parents, but they stood by me. I got a job in a department store. Selling toys.” She smiled at that.
“It must have been difficult for you.” He tried to imagine her, a teenager, pregnant, deserted by the father of her child, struggling to hold it all together.
“Yes, it was. It was also a wonderful time. My body changed. After the first month or two when I felt so fragile, I began to feel strong. So strong. I would sit in bed at night and read books on babies and birthing. I would ask Mama dozens of questions. I knit—badly,” she said with a quiet laugh. “Papa built a bassinet, and Mama sewed a white skirt with pink and blue ribbons. It was beautiful.” She felt the tears well up and shook her head. “Could I have some water?”
He rose, and filling a glass from the tap, set it beside her. “Take your time, Natasha.” Because he knew they both needed it, he stroked her hair. “You don’t have to tell me everything at once.”
“I need to.” She sipped slowly, waiting for him to sit down again. “I called her Lily,” she murmured. “She was so lovely, so tiny and soft. I had no idea it was possible to love anything, anyone, the way you love a child. I would watch her sleep for hours, so thrilled, so awed that she had come from me.”
The tears were falling now, soundlessly. One fell onto the back of her hand. “It was hot that summer, and I would take her out in this little carriage to get air and sunshine. People would stop to look at her. She hardly cried, and when I nursed her, she would put a hand on my breast and watch me with those big eyes. You know what it is. You have Freddie.”
“I know. There’s nothing like having a child.”
“Or losing one,” Natasha said softly. “It was so quick. She was only five weeks old. I woke up in the morning, surprised that she had slept through the night. My breasts were full of milk. The bassinet was by my bed. I reached down for her, picked her up. At first I didn’t understand, didn’t believe….” She broke off to press her hands to her eyes. “I remember screaming and screaming—Rachel rushing up out of the next bed, the rest of the family running in—Mama taking her from me.” The silent tears turned to weeping. Her face now covered by her hands, she let go in a way she usually only allowed herself in private.
There was nothing he could say, nothing to be said. Instead of searching for meaningless words, he rose to crouch beside her and gather her into his arms. The passion of her grief held sway. Then on a half sob, she turned and clung to him, accepting comfort.
Her hands were fisted against his back. Gradually they relaxed as he kept her close. The hot tears slowed, and the pain, now shared, eased.
“I’m all right,” she managed at length. Pulling away, she began to fumble in her bag for a tissue. Spence took it from her to dry her cheeks himself. “The doctor called it crib death. No reason,” she said as she closed her eyes once more. “That was somehow worse. Not knowing why, not being sure if I could have stopped it.”
“No.” He took both her hands and she opened her eyes. “Don’t do that. Listen to me. I can only imagine what it would be like to go through what you went through, but I know that when truly horrible things happen, it’s usually out of our control.”
“It took me a long time to accept what I can never understand.” She turned over her hands in his. “A long time to start living again, going back to work, finally moving here, starting my business. I think I would have died without my family.” She gave herself a moment, sipping the water to cool her dry throat. “I didn’t want to love anyone again. Then there was you. And Freddie.”
“We need you, Natasha. And you need us.”
“Yes.” She took his hand to press it to her lips. “I want you to understand. Spence, when I learned I was pregnant, it all came flying back at me. I tell you, I don’t think I could survive going through that again. I’m so afraid to love this child. And I already do.”
“Come here.” He lifted her to her feet, keeping her hands locked tight in his. “I know that you loved Lily, and that you’ll always love her and grieve for her. So will I now. What happened before can’t be changed, but this is a different place, a different time. A different child. I want you to understand that we’re going to go through this pregnancy, the birth and the rearing together. Whether you want me or not.”
“I’m afraid.”
“Then we’ll be afraid together. And when this baby is eight and rides a two-wheeler for the first time, we’ll be afraid together.”
Her lips trembled into a smile. “When you say it, I can almost believe it.”
“Believe it.” He bent to kiss her. “Because it’s a promise.”
“Yes, it’s time for promises.” Her smile grew. “I love you.” It was so easy to say it now. So easy to feel it. “Will you hold me?”
“On one condition.” He rubbed away a drying tear with his thumb. “I want to tell Freddie she’s expecting a baby brother or sister. I think it would make a great Christmas present for her.”
“Yes.” She felt stronger, surer. “I want us to tell her.”
“All right, you’ve got five days.”
“Five days for what?”
“To make whatever plans you want to make, to arrange to have your family come down, buy a dress, whatever you need to do to get ready for the wedding.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He framed her face with his hands and silenced her. “I love you, I want you. You’re the best thing to come into my life since Freddie, and I don’t intend to lose you. We’ve made a child, Natasha.” Watching her, he laid a hand on her stomach, gently possessive. “A child I want. A child I already love.”
In a gesture of trust, she placed her hand on his. “I won’t be afraid if you’re with me.”
“We have a date here Christmas Eve. I’m going to wake up Christmas morning with my wife.”
She steadied herself by putting her hands on his forearms. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
With a laugh, she threw her arms around his neck and said one word. “Yes.”
EPILOGUE
Christmas Eve was the most beautiful day in the year as far as Natasha was concerned. It was a time to celebrate life and love and family.
The house was quiet when she came in. She was drawn to the tree and the light. She sent an angel spinning on one branch, then turned to study the room.
On the table there was a papier-mâché reindeer
