Cinderella's Secret Agent. Ingrid Weaver
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“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she said. “My due date’s weeks away, so I’m not about to give birth or anything.”
Taking the chair across from her, Del directed a look toward Laszlo. “Maggie’s taking a break.” Although he didn’t raise his voice, his tone was that of a man accustomed to giving orders. And unlike Maggie, no one else argued with him.
Joanne bustled forward and plunked a glass of water on the table for Maggie, leaning over to feel her forehead. “Are you sure you’re okay, hon? I can cover for you if you want to leave early.”
The caring in her friend’s gaze unexpectedly brought the heat of tears to Maggie’s eyes. She blinked hard. God, the pregnancy hormones were making a mess of her emotions. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Really.”
And she would. Yes, indeed. Things could be so much worse. She had her friends. She had this job, at least for the next few days, and she had a home. And most important, in less than a month, she was going to have a child.
A child. A baby to love. Sometimes the wonder of it took her breath away.
“It won’t be long now.”
At Del’s softly spoken comment, Maggie smiled. He must have guessed the direction of her thoughts. “Spring is such a perfect time to have a baby, don’t you think?” she asked.
“What makes you say that?”
“Spring is when nature renews itself after the winter. The tulips are blooming, the cherry trees are blossoming, birds are returning to build their nests.”
“I see what you mean. It’s like an affirmation of life.”
“Exactly.” She beamed. “It’s my favorite season. Do you have any kids, Del?”
He hesitated. For an instant, a shadow of something dark flickered over his expression.
Oh, God. What was wrong with her? She shouldn’t have asked him such a personal question. Sure, they were on a first-name basis, but that was because she didn’t know his last name. Just because he’d been eating here regularly for almost two months didn’t mean she had the right to pry into his personal life. “Sorry, I shouldn’t—”
“No,” he answered finally. “I don’t have any kids. I’ve never been married.”
“Oh.” She shifted uncomfortably. The ache was building in her back again.
“My sister has half a dozen, though.”
She pressed her palm over her breasts. She seemed to have trouble taking a deep breath. “Really?”
“Uh-huh. The last two were twins. They keep her and her husband busy.”
“I can imagine. Wow. What a lucky woman your sister is. I’d love to have a whole houseful someday…oh!”
Del caught her hands. He might have said something, but Maggie couldn’t hear it over the rush of her pulse in her ears. She gripped his fingers, thankful for someone to hang on to as the wave crashed into the small of her back and stretched around to her stomach again.
It was harder than the other one, and it lasted longer. By the time it receded, Maggie could feel beads of sweat dampening her temples. She panted to catch her breath. “Whoa,” she muttered. “Did you see anyone behind me? Feels like someone smacked me in the back with a baseball bat. Heck, where’s a cop when you need one?”
Del’s face was so close she could see flecks of gold in his amber eyes. He looked at her carefully. “Maggie, I don’t believe that was a muscle ache from painting your toenails.”
“Could have been from moving the furniture. The crib was delivered yesterday, and I had to rearrange some things to make room for—”
“Maggie, I think you’re in labor.”
She released his hands and grabbed the front of his shirt. “I can’t be. I still have three weeks to go. There are too many things I have to do. The apartment’s a mess. I haven’t even set up the crib and I didn’t get to the laundry and—”
“Everything else can wait. I suspect this baby won’t.”
“But it’s too early.”
“You need to get to a hospital.”
“It’s just a false alarm. They talked about that in the prenatal classes. Mild contractions are perfectly normal in the last trimester, so there’s no point rushing anywhere until I’m sure—” She felt a distinct pop deep inside. Seconds later, warm fluid gushed between her thighs. She dipped her head, watching in disbelief as the liquid ran down her leg to form a clear puddle around her sandals. “Oh, my,” she whispered.
Crockery hit the floor nearby in a teeth-rattling crash. Joanne rushed to her side. “Maggie! Oh, my God! Is that…”
“I think my water just broke.”
“Oh, my God! Laszlo!” Joanne screamed. “She’s having the baby!”
“No. She can’t. This is the restaurant. Maggie, you can’t have baby here.”
The other customers in the coffee shop, alerted by the commotion, turned their heads to get a better look. Conversation halted briefly, then recommenced with an excited babble.
Joanne spun around, wringing her hands. “Oh, my God, oh, my God. What do we do?”
Maggie couldn’t reply. Another contraction caught her in a vise, turning her abdomen to steel. She moaned, tightening her hold on Del’s shirt. One of his buttons flew off and hit the floor.
“Laszlo, call nine one one,” Del ordered. “Now.”
It seemed to last forever. The world shrank behind a red haze as her entire body seized. Maggie tasted a moment of panic. This was no false alarm. It was happening. It really was happening.
She was going to have the baby.
The panic retreated as quickly as it had arisen. What was she afraid of? This is what she wanted. The months of waiting were over. Everything she had gone through—the heart-ache of Alan’s desertion, the struggle to stretch her budget, the discomfort of this pregnancy—all of it faded to insignificance at the enormity of what was taking place.
She was going to have the baby.
Now.
Tears were streaming down her cheeks as the contraction retreated. They could have been from the pain, but they also could have been from the joy. A child to love, her own little family of two. It blew her away.
Del wiped her cheeks with his knuckles. “It’ll be all right, Maggie. Don’t be afraid. Everything will be fine.”
“I’m not afraid.” She grinned, licking the tears from the corners of her mouth. “How could I be afraid? My God, Del! I’m having a baby. My baby. Isn’t that the most fabulous thing in the world?”
The room in the back