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"Say family values for the camera, dear!" Senator Darlene Dare flung strong arms about her daughter, then stepped back, her violet-blue eyes wide.
A gazillion flashing lights blinded Heather. But her mother's million-dollar smile easily eclipsed them. She blinked. It took several seconds for her vision to clear, but when it did, her blood stopped pumping. Her lungs refused to exhale. Her fingers itched to slam the door. A bevy of news people and cameras buzzed about her apartment's shadowy hallway, all snapping pictures of her in her flimsy negligee. Her closely guarded secret was blown to the winds. Protectively, she splayed her hands across her protruding belly.
She ran back into her mother's outstretched arms, seeking comfort and protection. "I've missed you so much." In her mother's ear, she chided, "You really should've warned me you were in town. There's something I've been meaning to tell you." She paused for emphasis. "Privately."
A pushy reporter snapped a close up. As she'd done so many times in her life, she averted her face, covering it with the palm of her hand. Life in the spotlight as the Senator's daughter formed scars on her.
"When were you planning to tell me?" Darlene's cultured voice held just the slightest twinge of censorship. "At the Baptism?" Pulling away, the Senator stood at arm's length, her gaze trained on Heather's stomach. She patted Heather's bulging tummy with perfectly manicured hands.
Ravishing as always, her mother made her feel extremely dowdy. Pearl ear studs played peek-a-boo through coifed white-blonde hair, the same shade as Heather's. A flawless complexion highlighted the heart-shaped face that still bewitched many a male constituent.
Swallowing hard, she lowered her eyes to the evidence of her condition. Her stomach stretched so far to the front, she could legitimately be mistaken for the Good Year Blimp, or a hippopotamus. Very slowly so as not to drawn attention to it, she inched her hand behind her back, away from the nosy cameramen, but most particularly from her mother. The pad of her thumb rubbed her ringless finger.
Old Mrs. Perriwinkle from across the hall stuck her nose out her door, staring shamelessly. Somber brown eyes shifted from mother to daughter to the tribe of newscasters. They pinched together in her screwed up her face. Wrinkles rolled on her forehead. Thick eyebrows came together in one solid line.
Another neighbor, Carla Schoenfeldt, stopped mid-gait on spiky high heels, her mouth agape, her ears wiggling. Shoulder length ear hoops swung back and forth.
"Interview's over." Darlene's lips thinned. Violet eyes narrowed in warning. No one in her right mind would argue with her mother in this mood. When were newsmen ever in their right mind, though?
Quelling the nearly uncontrollable urge to hide, she managed to stand her ground.
"We'd like to meet your lovely daughter, Senator Dare." Brian Jenkins of the KCRG Des Moines News Team objected, trying to push his way inside Heather's apartment. Ruddy cheeks turned as red as his hair. Freckles popped out on the bridge of his nose. Only Darlene's expression was more determined than Brian's.
Dread consumed her. Having her home turned into a war zone wasn't on her top- ten priority list today. Nor was having a photograph taken of her in her negligee anywhere on that list.
"You're causing a scene." Curling her fingers around her mother's upper arms, she dragged her into her tiny apartment, away from the prying eyes and brash news people. The last thing she wanted was Brian Jenkins and this mob in her living room! Maybe find it exposeed on the six o'clock news. Leaving no doubt intruders weren't welcome, she shut the door firmly, and then turned to face her mother whose chest rose and fell swiftly.
Darlene's gaze stayed glued to Heather's bulging stomach. A puzzled expression flickered across her eyes. The irises dilated alarmingly. "When's the baby due? This month?"
"Thanksgiving." She waddled across the room to scoop Ebony into her arms. She nuzzled her nose into her soft underbelly, taking comfort from her incessant purring. Ebony had just celebrated his twelfth birthday. Not a patch of white relieved his silky black fur. And he'd lost most of his energy, preferring to curl up in the sunny windowsill most of the time. But he never turned down a free scratch behind his ears. "This is September. Egbert won't come for another two and a half months."
"Twins? Or triplets?" Daintily, Darlene perched on the arm of the couch, her shapely calves crossed. Her elegant French heels probably cost more than Heather's entire living room suite.
"One baby." She prepared herself for the normal reaction. She knew she was huge, especially for a first baby.
"Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant?" Darlene splayed her hand across Heather's stomach. Ebony tilted his face, gazing at her mother cross-eyed. He curled closer against Heather. Soft stroking soothed him. "I have a right to know I'm going to be a grandmother."
"Of course." Heather patted her mother's hand, feeling deeply remiss. Ashamed, she bowed her head, afraid to meet her mother's pained gaze. "I was going to tell you. I-I just never found a good time."
"You never had trouble talking to me before." Empathy warred with confused hurt in Darlene's voice. A deep sigh escaped her.
"I never had to tell you anything like this before." Her voice barely rose above a whisper. It hadn't been easy telling her about her divorce either.
Her stomach undulated. Excited, she sought her mother's gaze and smiled. "Want to feel her move?"
A slow smile spread across Darlene's face. Rising, she crossed to Heather, and let her hand be guided to the last place the baby had kicked. She spread her fingers wide.
The baby kicked under Darlene's flattened palm. "Did you feel that, Mom? She's a strong one!" Excitement fluttered in the pit of her stomach as it always did when she felt the precious life inside her. A tremulous smile tugged at her lips.
"I felt her." Wonder twinkled in Darlene's eyes. "If she's like you, you'll not get any sleep until she's five years old." Her gaze wondered around the room, cataloguing it.
Fingering her frothy gown, she smoothed it over her knees. Ebony shot her his don't-bother-me glare, leaped to the floor, and then migrated to a comfy position on his favorite chair, tucking his nose under his paws. His eyelids fluttered shut and his breathing slowed.
A frown marred Darlene's perfect complexion, puckering her brow. She envied her mother's graceful stride, forgetting what it felt like to walk normally. Picking up a porcelain figurine of a cat, Darlene fingered it. Then she glided through the room, admiring the lacy curtains, crocheted doilies and miniatures collection.
"Where's he?" Her mother had a habit of losing Heather. This morning was no exception. Heather stared at her blankly. She hadn't announced any weddings.
"The baby's father." Darlene said with a graceful flick of her wrist. Her eyes started to mist and she sniffled. "You can't have a baby without a husband. You didn't invite me to your wedding, either." Tears shimmered in eyes so filled with moisture, they looked like watercolors. A plump one hovered on the tips of her lashes then plopped on her lap.
Heather's lungs burned. Her eyes widened. She'd never do anything to hurt her mother. Not in a million years. But she didn't know how to prevent doing so now. The baby's father had walked out on her when she'd told him her good news. He hadn't even called since.
"A-actually, it doesn't take a husband to make a b-baby." Thick lashes veiled her eyes. She feared they'd be swimming in tears, too.
Trembling lips eschewed a loud, shuddering sigh. "You're not married? You'll be a single mother?" Darlene's huskier than normal voice trailed into nothingness. Intense pain flickered across her eyes, darkening them to fuchsia.
"We'll be alright." Not that she ever considered how poorly Matt would react to impending fatherhood. Not that this was her first choice.
A ray of hope flashed across Darlene's eyes. Her expression brightened for a few seconds as she settled further into Heather's couch. "You're a surrogate mother. You're helping some poor barren woman have a child."
"No." She shook her head, pursing her lips. This was proving harder than she'd anticipated. Her dread hadn't been misplaced.
"Artificial insemination?" A hopeful note crept into her mother's voice. "How do you ever expect to catch a husband when all you do is work?"
"Baby was conceived the old fashioned way." An internal roller coaster dipped and dived in her stomach when the baby somersaulted. The new life inside her never failed to amaze her. She couldn't keep a proud smile from tilting her lips.
"You reconciled with Alexander? You shouldn't have divorced him. He was so perfect for you." Hope flared in Darlene's eyes. She tilted forward, hanging onto Heather's words.
"Heaven forbid! Alex is out of my life for good. I'd rather be single forever than be married to a man who doesn't love me." She shuddered, wishing her mother hadn't brought up that nightmare. Trudging up the painful past wouldn't do her any good. She hadn't told her mother everything.
Conviction saturated her voice. "I'll lose the election. No one will take me seriously." Self-pity replaced the surety. "First a divorced daughter. Now an expecting, unwed daughter."
"There are millions of single mothers." She held out a ray of hope, hoping to lift her mother out of the doldrums.
"In New York or Los Angeles maybe." Darlene fanned herself, sinking further into Heather's tartan plaid couch. "To someone else's daughter perhaps." Pain radiated in Darlene's eyes. "But not in Niceville, Iowa to a Senator's daughter." Her voice grew fainter as if all energy drained from her. Stretching out on Heather's couch, she elevated her feet on the armrest. Each shoe plopped to the thick carpeting. She knocked into the creeping Charlie on the end table, making Heather dive for it, catching it just as it started to dump silt everywhere.
Biting back an exclamation, she set the traumatized plant on a far table. Jarred by the commotion, Ebony vaulted from his chair and dashed under the couch. The tip of his tail stuck out half an inch.
"How could you shame your family this way? How could you do this to us Heather Leigh?" She spoke in a crying-hiccup combination. Shallow breathing punctuated every word. Her mother's cheeks paled to a deathly paste.
God, her eyes ached. Tears welled behind closed lids, clamoring to escape. Searing flames licked her flesh.
"How could you? My constituents will never forgive me." Anguish claimed her soul. Closing her eyelids, heavily mascaraed lashes fanned bruised circles beneath her eyes. Her chin tilted heavenward.
"Shush." She smoothed stray hair off her mother's forehead, blinking back pesky tears of her own. Her fingers shook as she did her best to paste a brave smile on her lips. "We'll get through this. It's not the end of the world. Your constituents won't hold my sins against you." She wasn't exactly independently wealthy, but architects made decent money. It would be tough, but they'd get by.
"You don't know them." A pathetic gaze raked her form, resting on her bare fingers.
"For what it's worth, I love you." She unfolded the wedding band quilt made by her great grandmother that graced the back of her La-Z Boy lounger. Covering her mother, she tucked the folds under her chin. With great strain on her stomach, she leaned a little further and pecked the rouged cheek within kissing distance.
Darlene snuggled into the fluffy comforter. Only slightly mollified, she accepted the kiss. "I carried you for ten months and I deserve better than this." Bony fingers clenched the edge of the quilt.
Jake, Heather's next store neighbor and best friend, burst into the apartment unannounced, his boyish enthusiasm contagious. A lock of stray sandy-brown hair fell over his eyes. He pushed it away absently. "Wait till I show you what I got for the baby." He held out a small lavender box with a white iridescent bow, his expression eager. Heather's heart contracted. Forward momentum pushed him two steps into the living room before he could halt.
He was so handsome when he smiled. That lopsided grin of his took her by surprise every time. The little bump on his otherwise perfect Roman nose fascinated her when she studied him in profile. His strong, square jaw with a hint of shadow invited her to rub her cheek against his. When his sharp, intelligent eyes warmed with laughter, she almost melted at his feet. Of course, she wasn't free to let him know that.
Realizing she'd been staring at him too long, she dragged her gaze away, adopting a vague, but friendly, expression, hoping he hadn't caught her more than friendly interest. Standing on tiptoe, she gave him the perfunctory kiss on the cheek she always greeted special friends with. Her flesh tingled when he returned the favor.
"I didn't mean to interrupt anything...I'll come back at a better time." He motioned toward the front door with a shake of his head and started to pivot on his heel, his smile fading. "Did you hear all that commotion? Channel Nine news blocked our parking lot."
"My heart!" Darlene groaned one hand to her heart, one arm flung over her forehead. She forgot about her fascination with her best friend and knelt beside her mother, taking her pulse. Highly concerned, she counted how many times per minute her mother's chest rose and fell in a minute.
"Should we call an ambulance? Is she okay?" Anxiety flashed across Jake's honey colored eyes. His jaw set sternly.
She made the mistake of looking up into those eyes. She couldn't help but note how very tall he loomed above her, how his black T-shirt stretched across the breadth of his football player shoulders, how his fringe of sandy brown hair fell across those beguiling eyes. She had to lower her lashes over her eyes lest he read too much animation in them.
"The shame! The humiliation!" Darlene groaned with all the pathos of a Greek tragedy. "Let me die. Put me out of my misery."
Jake shot a confused glance at Heather. He strode to her phone, picked up the receiver and dialed 911. "There's a possible heart attack in progress at 419 Border Lane, Apartment C-209. We need an ambulance immediately," Jake's strong voice barked into the phone.
He hung the phone back on its hook then strode to Heather's side. His hands talked as he spoke. "The ambulance should be here momentarily. Just stay calm. Don't try to talk. Don't upset yourself."
"My heart." Darlene thrashed around on the narrow couch. She pushed the quilt off her feet.
She covered her mother back up and took her hand in hers, stroking it gently. "Please don't do this to yourself." Heather's gaze sought Jake's for commiseration and for confirmation that she was doing the right thing.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't?" Darlene glared at her, breaking her heart. "My career is finished. My life is over."
"W-well..." Genuine worry flooded her. She didn't know if her mother was merely being melodramatic or if this was the real thing. She'd had that episode with her heart after her father's death. That must have weakened her.
More scared than she'd ever been in her life, she put her mother's hand to her cheek. She kissed it softly. "I'll make everything alright. You'll see."
Jake's heavy hand fell on her shoulder, squeezing it. Closing her eyes for a few seconds, she commanded her traitorous emotions to calm down. She had to take a deep breath and take herself to task to accomplish her goal.
Unbidden, the germ of a really outrageous idea sprouted in her mind. As it took root, she wondered if she were truly crazy or desperate enough to pull it off. She couldn't seriously consider this, could she?
Darlene groaned as if she were dying. "See if my heart pills are in my purse, Dear." Darlene's weak hand cupped Heather's cheek. Her mother's trembling smile tore at her heart.
She couldn't afford to think of herself. She had to help her mother. It would mean compromising herself. And Jake. But she had no choice.
Shooting a desperate glance at Jake, she implored him to help her.
Jake looked back at her perplexed. He shrugged his broad shoulders then pushed the unruly lock of hair out of his eyes.
"There's nothing you can say that will make me feel better, that will stop from breaking my..." she whispered, her eyelids fluttering rapidly. The ashen gray of Darlene's cheeks deeply alarmed Heather.
"Is she dying?" Jake whispered, bending on his knee beside Darlene. He put his hand to the senator's forehead and frowned. "She feels cool."
"Her pulse is only slightly elevated," Heather whispered. Jake's aftershave wafted around her and his clean, male scent tugged at her, assaulting her senses. She inched away when his unintentional touch scorched her. Her mother was first priority. A clear head was imperative. So was courage.
Face it, she needed sheer, unmitigated gall. She wasn't sure she could pull off her plan.
Sirens whirled in the distance, pulsing eerily, growing closer with each passing second.
"If they don't get here in time, dear, bury me next to your father, God rest his soul." Her mother drew in a deep, shuddering breath. She traced the curve of Heather's cheek with her thumb, attempting a smile. "I'm so glad he's not here to live with this humiliation. It would have killed him to know his little girl ended up this way."
"Mother." Her voice was barely audible. Shock numbed her. She stared at her mother while pain squeezed her heart.
"He could never have forgiven you."
That couldn't be true, could it? A tear escaped down her cheek, wending its way to the corner of her lip where it slipped into her mouth. It tasted salty. Weepiness struggled to overtake her. Being pregnant with elevated estrogen levels was hell at the best of times.
Jake tossed her a conciliatory smile.
"Daddy's little girl. You were perfect in his eyes. You could do no wrong."
"I didn't mean to hurt you. You know I'd never do that." Tears almost choked her now. She couldn't take much more.
Standing with great effort, she motioned for Jake to stand beside her, her decision made. There was no going back.
Jake drew himself to his full length that must be a good six foot three, seeing that he stood a good head taller than Heather who was tall for a woman. He looked down at her, his brows furrowed, his handsome features drawn in confusion.
"Go ahead, dear. I don't have much time left," Darlene whispered. She looked to the heavens, her eyes clouding over. Her arm floated toward the ceiling, her fingers loosely pointed skyward. "I'm coming, Frank. We'll be together shortly."
The sirens almost deafened her making her ears ring with their passionate insistence.
"Mother." She barreled full speed ahead. Taking Jake's hands in hers, she smiled up at him, gazing deeply into his soulful eyes. "We're engaged to be married."
Jake's jaw dropped several notches. His eyes narrowed, but he stiffened silently beside her. Stone couldn't feel more rigid. Or much colder.
Heather squeezed Jake's warm hands in hers, a strange tingling starting at her fingertips, shooting up to her elbows. She closed his mouth with her finger. Tremors sparked at her fingertip, skipping up her arm.
An emergency medical technician burst through Heather's door. "Where's the patient?" he gasped in a breathless baritone. Feet pounded up the stairs. What, had they hired a bull elephant at the Niceville EMT?
"Over here." Jake tilted his head. His thunderous expression prompted her to back away a few inches. She flinched.
"Put her on the stretcher," the lead EMT commanded. "We'll be lucky if we get her to the hospital on time."
Two basketball player types whom eclipsed Jake, hustled to her side, took her arms and started to haul her backwards to the stretcher.
She tried to yank her arms out of their grasp. "I'm not the patient." Gesturing to her mother propped up on the couch, grinning from ear to ear, she said, "My mother's having chest pains."
"Not me, dear." Darlene swung her legs over the side of the couch and stood next to Jake in her stockinged feet, sizing him up. "I feel much better. It must have been a false alarm." Darlene encircled Jake's forearm, long nails tapping his firmness. "What would you say if I threw you the biggest, splashiest wedding Niceville's ever seen?"
"You're not in labor?" the lead EMT asked Heather, perplexed. Perspiration beaded his brow and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
"No," Heather said. "Not the last time I checked."
"Wedding?" Jake's eyes clouded with confusion. He looked from Heather to her mother then back.
"Yes." Heather steeled herself against Jake's reaction rationalizing her actions. Much as she hated lying, she had no choice. Her mother's health was paramount importance.
"So you are in labor?" The lead EMT rubbed his baby smooth chin. "How far?"
"Almost seven."
"Get her to the hospital now. I don't want to deliver as another baby on the road." She saw the defensive ends move in on her with her peripheral vision.
"I'm almost seven months along." Irritation laced her tones. "And I'm not in labor."
"That's some kid in there!" The man whistled under his breath. Turning to her mother, the man asked Darlene, "Didn't you say you were having chest pains?"
"I didn't say that." Darlene shook her head. "My daughter said that. My engaged daughter said that." She smiled like the Cheshire cat.
"Are you ill sir?" the man asked Jake.
"Yes." Jake raked unsteady fingers through his hair, mussing it. "I definitely feel very queasy." Steely eyes met Heather's over the man's shoulders.
Doing her best to keep her gaze wide-eyed and innocent, she splayed her hands before her and mouthed I'm sorry.
"Let's get him to the hospital men. Can you walk downstairs for us?"
"I'm not that kind of ill!" Annoyance flashed in the depths of Jake's eyes.
"Someone has got to be sick here." The man eyed Heather, her mother and Jake sternly. "I have to take someone to the hospital."
"False alarm." Heather glared at her mother. She suspected her mother of over- dramatizing to push the guilt on her, but she couldn't prove it.
"I'll pay your fee." Darlene delved into her purse, fishing out a crisp one hundred- dollar bill. "I'm so happy my daughter's getting married. You're all invited to the wedding." Darlene halted, a frown playing around the corners of her lips. "What day did you say the wedding is dear?"
"We didn't." Jake crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Heather.
"We're going to e-elope, Mother." She tried to smile, avoiding Jake's eyes. "Just as soon as we find a long weekend we can both get off work together."
"Elope!" Darlene gasped, her hands fluttering to her heart. She sank back to the couch. "Oh my poor heart. It's fibrillating again."
Heather exchanged worried glances with Jake.
"Do you think you're having a heart attack Senator?" the EMT asked. He motioned for his men to load Darlene onto the stretcher.
"I'm dying all right. But I'd prefer if you put me out of my agony." Darlene groaned, draping the back of her hand across her forehead melodramatically. "My only child is trying to kill me."
She gathered her mother into her arms, laying her cheek on the breasts that used to rock her to sleep. "If it makes you feel better, we'll have a small wedding."
When Jake shot her a quelling glance, she prayed for forgiveness, knowing she'd still do this to protect her mother even if it wasn't granted.
Leaving her mother, she snuggled up to Jake, nesting her head on his shoulder, looking up at him with her best imitation of big puppy dog eyes. She knew Jake and he wasn't made of granite. A few soft-spoken words, a tremulous smile, a tear or two, and she could convince him to help her. She hoped. It didn't take much effort to make her lower lip tremble. "Do you mind awfully if we have a wedding instead of eloping?" She inclined her head toward her mother. "It would mean the world to Mother."
"We really need to discuss this Heather." His hot breath rasped against her neck. The fluctuation in his voice told her he was bending, if unwillingly.
"We'll talk about this later. In private." A brittle smile clung to her lips for her mother's benefit. Her lips barely moved and she tried to signal him with her eyes. All she needed was for him to play along verbally for a few minutes, then he could go home and forget this ever happened, forget she ever existed.
"We need to discuss this now." She'd never seen him so determined, so firm. Warm, vibrant fingers curled around her upper arm. An electric thrill shot through her at his touch that she put down to trepidation. She'd never seen him so angry either. "Can we talk in your bedroom?"
"You two love birds don't need to whisper in front of me." Darlene smiled dreamily, sighing. "I was young and in love once."
"We'll be right back." He pulled her to her bedroom, practically slamming the door.
"What in hell was that about?" Murder lurked in his eyes. "You told her I'm your fiancé?"
"She was about to have a heart attack." She sucked her lower lip into her mouth, biting it. "Then you walked in with a baby gift and..." She splayed her hands helplessly.
"What will my real fiancé say when she finds out?" He shoved unsteady fingers through his sandy blonde hair. "Brenda will kill me."
"We're not really engaged." She tried to keep the situation light and non- threatening. Her laughter tinkled.
"No?" He rubbed his jaw, thoughtfully.
"Of course not." She sent him an amused glance. "We're just telling my mother a little white lie to make her happy." "But won't she expect a wedding?" He picked up one of her videotapes and read the label, scowling. "Stephen King. This stuff'll give you nightmares." He tossed the tape to the middle of the quilted lilac bedspread then sank onto the edge of the bed.
She wasn't going to be dragged into another discourse on the dangers of watching horror movies. They had something more important to settle. "Of course she expects a wedding." Duh rang loud and clear in her voice. She tucked her long hair behind her ear. A strand refused to obey and fell across her cheek.
"I don't get it. Do you care to fill me in?" He crossed his right foot over his left knee. "Obviously I'm a few sandwiches short of a picnic here."
Heather joined him on the bed, patting the hand in his lap. "You see," she said, making this up as she went along, "Mother's an Iowa Senator. She's on the reelection campaign trail. Here today, gone tomorrow. She just popped in on her way to Des Moines but she'll be on her merry way in a day or two."
"What about the wedding?"
She turned over possibilities in her mind, and then brightened when brilliant ideas hit her. "I can tell her your air plane went down or your car got hit by a train before the nuptials."
Blinking, he shook his head. "You sound too happy about my demise." He wasn't amused. "Won't she see me next door when she comes to visit?"
"You could move."
"I'm not moving, Darlin'," he drawled. He picked up her hand and dropped it back in her lap. "I've got my apartment fixed up just the way Brenda likes it."
The thought of Brenda living next door as Jake's wife and soul mate filled her with immense pain. She pushed the thought away, not wanting to explore it right now. But she couldn't help expressing her opinion. "Brenda has you wrapped around her little finger."
"Does not!" Jake denied hotly.
"Does too!" She shook her head, laughing.
"Or we could pretend to have a fight." Now he looked too happy. The scowl left his eyes and they brightened immensely. "What pretend? We are having a fight." She punched at his upper arm playfully, glad they were returning to their normal friendly relationship.
"Disagreement."
"Argument." They always played this one-upmanship game, one having to outdo the other. Sometimes they went on all night this way. She hated to lose, so she dug in her heels and gave him a small, but determined smile.
"Difference of opinion."
"Face it, Jake. This is a fight." She declared herself winner of this round. She squeezed his hand in hers. When the baby somersaulted inside her stomach, she dragged his hand and spread it over her bulging belly. It felt warm and wonderful. Tingles radiated across her tummy.
He looked alarmed, his fingers moving tenderly, tracing the outline of the baby's feet. Or elbow. Or head. Whatever was protruding.
"If you won't do this for me, do it for the baby." She pleaded with wide eyes and pouted prettily. "For your little Godson or Goddaughter. Please."
"What does this have to do with the baby?" Suspicion laced his voice.
"If Mother has a nervous breakdown in my house, I'll have a nervous breakdown." She extrapolated the chain of events as she foresaw them, for him. Her hands talked in the air, emphasizing doom-filled words. "If I have a nervous breakdown, the baby could be born with heart problems, or a manic depressive disorder, or..."
"I can see melodramatics run in your family. Perhaps you should hit the campaign trail, too."
"Perish the thought!" She couldn't quell the deep groan that rose in her chest. The last thing she wanted was a career in politics. One politician in the family was over her quota.
"And she doesn't know how you got pregnant?" Jake whistled. Heather punched him playfully in his shoulder. He fell backwards onto her bed. "Of course she knows the mechanics of it. I'm here, aren't I?"
When Jake lay prone for several moments, she scrambled over him, cupping his face in her hands. "I didn't hit you that hard did I? Are you okay?"
Jake lay prone, his eyes closed. Gold tipped lashes fluttered over his cheeks.
"Speak to me, Jacob." She slapped his cheeks lightly with the backs of her hands. Her negligee draped over him. "Wake up."
His eyes flew open, merriment flickering in their depths. His hands grasped her shoulders and he flipped her to her back on the bed, straddling her. "I'm fine. So far," he drawled. "But if we go through with your crazy scheme, Brenda's going to slice and dice me -- and maybe you too."
"I can handle Brenda." She tilted her head towards the door, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. "I just can't handle that Senatorial tornado in the next room without your help."
The door burst open with a whoosh of chill Iowa air. "Am I interrupting something?" Darlene pushed open the bedroom door without warning, her hand flying to her mouth, covering a wide grin.
Heather's head snapped to the side, heat rising to her cheeks guiltily. Jake's eyes mirrored about as much guilt as assuaged her but neither moved a muscle as if they were petrified to the spot.
"What did you want Mother?" With the palms of both hands, she shoved Jake off her. Sitting up, she finger-combed her long tresses into some resemblance of order.
"Someone named Brenda is looking for Jake." Accusation flashed across her mother's eyes.
Jake's eyes widened. His voice came out in a frog's croak, "Brenda? Here?"
"She's waiting in the living room. I told her you were in the bedroom."
"Together?" Heather's voice wavered, rising several octaves. Dread suffused her.
"Why not, Dear?" Darlene asked. "You're engaged, aren't you?"
"Who's engaged?" Brenda came up two inches behind Darlene.
Jake jumped off the left side of the bed. Heather scooted off the right side of the bed. She glanced down and grimaced. The quilt was all tangled up from their tussling, looking as if they had something to hide.
She'd be suspicious if she were Jake's girlfriend.
Brenda pushed her way further into the room, her glance falling to the bed then riveting on Heather's scanty attire. "What's going on in here?" Brenda demanded to know. She pinned a scathing glance on Jake. Her hands rode her hips.
"Brenda!" Jake yelped, crossing the room in three long strides, taking her elbow in his fingers. "I didn't expect you."
"Obviously." Brenda slid a disdainful glance over Heather, then her mother.
"This should be good." She shook off Jake's hand. "I'm all ears."
"Not now, Bren." Jake's voice was low and urgent. His shoulders tensed, bunching.
Heather darted furious glances at Jake. "Introduce your sister to my mother Darling, then help her settle in. Mother and I have some catching up to do."
"Oh, but I'd love to meet your future sister-in-law!" Darlene's glance slid over Brenda with interested.
"Future sister-in-law..." Brenda mouthed, her eyes narrowing, the color draining from her cheeks.
"Brenda's not feeling well." Jake put his hand in the small of Brenda's back and prodded her out the door towards his own apartment. Heather's stomach churned at the site. Even the baby kicked. "I'll be back in a little while."
"Don't be long." She kept her voice soft even though she longed to make him stay. To keep him away from Brenda.
"Just a jiffy."
"Your fiancé's very handsome, Dear." Sunshine filled Darlene's eyes.
"Isn't he?" She didn't lie, not one little bit. With Jake's blonde, all-American looks, he could be a movie star. If only he'd ever gazed her way, she'd swoon faster than if Brad Pitt proposed to her on national television.
"But he and his sister are rather strange, wouldn't you say?
He does have the strangest sister I ever met." Unable to meet her mother's penetrating gaze, she bent and busied herself with straightening her bed quilt. Once she'd had sufficient time to compose herself, she stood and crossed the room, her stomach a full foot ahead of her, closing the distance between herself and her mother. She linked fingers with her mother and squeezed her hand as she had as a child. "Let's you and I have a cozy chat over a cup of hot mocha and fill me in on your re-election campaign."
Brenda whirled on Jake with a maniacal gleam in her eyes. "What's going on?" She seethed, her hackles rising. When she bristled in the epicenter of Jake's living room, he braced for the quake of the century.
Jake came up behind her, taking her shoulders in his hands and pulled her rigid back against him. "I'm just helping Heather with a simple deception."
"There's never ever anything simple about deception -- or Heather."
"Don't be angry, Sweetheart." He warmed, remembering how seductive and sultry Heather had looked in her frothy lilac lingerie, how her shoulder-length blond hair fell in a silky curtain around her heart-shaped face, how her violet eyes flashed with mirth. "As soon as her mother leaves, things will be back to normal."
"When does the old witch leave?"
"That's not very nice." He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Heather said she only stays a couple of days at a time, then she'll be back on the campaign trail."
"A couple of days!" Brenda features pinched. Her generous lips pulled down in a large pout. "We have a date with my parents tonight."
"Don't worry. Heather doesn't expect me to spend all my time with her -- just make the occasional obligatory appearance."
Brenda twisted in his hands. Her lips softened and she flashed him a flirtatious smile. "Promise? You won't disappoint me, will you Jacob?" A long manicured fingernail traced his jaw line and stopped at the tip of his chin. "You know how Mumsy and Daddy hate to be disappointed."
"I remember." He sighed, gazing at Brenda's raven black hair, wondering what it would feel like to run his fingers through Heather's white-blonde tresses. It had felt soft and silky entwined around him when they'd wrestled on her bed. He could still smell the ethereal scent of lilacs she always wore and he swore Heaven couldn't smell any better.
Jake's door burst open as if an angry October wind blasted through the apartment. Heather wobbled in, dressed in a pumpkin-orange sweat suit that made her look like the prettiest Halloween jack-o-lantern he'd ever seen. "Sorry to interrupt." Panting, a wild look bloomed in her eyes. "I have to speak to Jake."
"Whatever you have to say to my fiancé, you can say in front of me." Brenda bristled, her dark eyes flashing fire.
"Jake?" Heather's lacy black lashes fluttered coquettishly against her alabaster cheeks.
He looked from his real fiancé to his make-believe one, pulled in both directions like a piece of salt-water taffy. "You can talk in front of Brenda. She knows."
Brenda shook her head with a wooden nod, reminding him of a nutcracker.
"Mother wants to take us out to dinner."
"Tonight?" A dark scowled shadowed Brenda's features. "Impossible. Jake and I are going out with my parents tonight."
"But Jake. Mother's only going to be in town two days. Can't you reschedule your other dinner?"
"Like hell he will!" Brenda raised her chin several notches, her nostrils flaring.
The baby kicked Heather, leaving a miniature foot poking out her tummy. Heather pushed it back in place. Like an undulating wave, the baby poked itself out on the other side of her stomach. Jake watched the show in fascination wondering what it felt like to be punched from the inside, sympathizing with her.
"She'll have more heart spasms if you don't go."
"Not on your life." Brenda positioned herself between Heather and Jake and faced off against her adversary. The tension sizzled. It struck him that the inside of a volcano wasn't as volatile.
"Have a heart. My mother will never leave me alone if he doesn't help me."
"And my mother will?"
"I think this is what's called a no-win situation, ladies. Heather, we'll just have to schedule your mother at another time. I've already committed to dinner with Brenda and her parents."
"But Mother..."
A devious smiled lit Brenda's face, one he didn't trust one iota. "I knew I could count on you darling," she crooned, sounding too much like Cruella De Vil for Jake's liking.
He shot his fiancé a piercing glare.
Heather hung her head, her blonde tresses covering her face like a velvet curtain. Only the curve of her sweet cheek and the tip of her tilted nose remained visible to Jake. She looked so forlorn his heart went out to her. Maybe he could think of something else...something to help her.
"Thanks for not giving me away with Mother." She lifted her chin proudly, a hint of tears hiding behind her eyes. She flashed a tremulous smile, then pivoted on the heel of her Reeboks and wobbled out his door. Her hand on the knob, pulling the door shut, he rushed to her side, blocking her departure.
"I'll call you in a few. Just as soon as Bren leaves," Jake whispered.
Violet eyes as dewy as newly opened meadow flowers, shimmered at him, shredding his insides. "That's not necessary. I'll tell Mother you have to work."
Chivalry and an unnamed something else couldn't let her leave without hope. "Don't tell her anything yet. Wait for my call."
"You wouldn't be keeping more secrets from me Dearest, would you?" Brenda sauntered to his side. A hard light flickered in her dark eyes.
"Certainly not." He crossed his heart as if he were a Boy Scout. He winked and watched Heather's cute little behind waddle back to her apartment. From the back, you couldn't tell his sexy little neighbor was pregnant -- except for her slow, awkward gait. Her firm behind looked just as ready to squeeze as always.
"Earth to Jake. Earth to Jake," Brenda said in increasingly annoyed tones. Daggers lanced him when he looked into her eyes.
Shadow rubbed around Jake's legs, purring. His long, skinny tail crooked.
Jake scooped the big tomcat into his arms and rubbed his soft neck, glad for the diversion.
"Oh, sorry Bren." He closed his door. Shadow jumped out of his arms as graceful as a ballerina, then ambled to Jake's leather sofa where he curled up in a sleek, black ball, the tip of his tail fluttering ever so slightly. "My mind's a million miles away."
"So I've noticed. I have a two o'clock appointment." Grimacing, she glanced at her gold wristwatch. "Pick me up at six-thirty sharp and we'll meet Mumsy and Daddy at Lagniappe's at seven." She brushed her lips against his in a sultry seductive manner, yet he didn't feel much of anything. His mind was still on his neighbor. "Don't forget."
"I'll be there." He might die, but he'd be there. What did one wear to their execution?
"Forget the bells. Wear your best tuxedo. Mumsy's very picky." She waved regally. "Ta ta!"
He leaned against his closed door, his mind in turmoil. The cogs spun dizzily and he wondered what in the world he was going to do? Heather had landed him in one fine mess. Now Bren was suspicious of his every move and Heather made him feel guilty as sin.
He'd never planned to be a bigamist, but it seemed Fate had other plans in store for him. He wondered how cheating spouses ever pulled off such deceptions and thought about renting a few videos for tips.
So why didn't he just tell Heather to tell her mother the truth?
He tapped his finger to his chin, deep in thought. Because, Heather was his friend and he'd do almost anything for her. Because he always protected the underdog. If it weren't for his father's hand in the business, they'd have gone broke taking on all charity cases.
The proverbial light bulb lit up and Jake wondered if he dared pursue the germ of an idea that sprouted in his devious mind. If it backfired, he'd have Brenda and Heather furious with him -- and Brenda reminded him of a fire-breathing, two headed dragon when angered. But if he didn't try, he'd disappoint one of his two favorite ladies and that was inconceivable.
Hadn't Robin Williams juggled simultaneous dinner appointments in Mrs. Doubtfire? He'd taken them to the same restaurant, same time, on opposites ends of the restaurant and just sprinted back and forth.
Why couldn't he tuck Heather and the Senator in some secluded corner behind a potted plant and pull a Mrs. Doubtfire?
He crossed the living room in two powerful strides, picked up the phone and dialed Lagniappe. After a brief conversation with the maitre d', he'd made proper arrangements to wine and dine both women and their parents.
He'd take Heather and her mother at five-thirty and have Brenda and her parents meet him there at seven. A little fib about getting called into work to handle an emergency should do the trick nicely.
He combed his hair, slapped on a bit of Old Spice Heather had given him last Christmas and sauntered over to Heather's place. Learning his lesson -- at least while her mother was in town -- he rapped out a shave-and-a-hair-cut on her door and waited.
Darlene opened the door and eyed him as if he were a thoroughbred on Kentucky Derby day, her eyes roaming up and down his length.
"Should I bare my teeth and let you see my fetlocks?" he asked wickedly, drawing his lips back and lifting his pant leg, holding his ankle up like a model.
"Come in Jacob." She chuckled, peering in his mouth. "Good teeth."
"Thanks. And the legs aren't half-bad either."
"What's this I hear you won't let me take you and my daughter out to dinner tonight?" She opened the door wide, granting him royal admission with a sweep of her hand. "You know Heather needs lots of nourishment in her delicate condition."
Jake pecked Darlene on her heavily rouged cheek. His eyes roamed the apartment in search of the violet-eyed pumpkin.
"Darling!" She swallowed a mouthful of cookie and cream milk shake when she rounded the corner from the kitchen. Frothy cream foamed on her angelic lips.
"Eating again, sweetheart?" When she scowled, he laughed, garnering him an even deeper frown.
"I'm eating for two." She waved two fingers in front of his eyes then plopped onto an over-sized pillow strategically thrown in the corner of the couch.
"Speaking of eating." His gaze roamed from daughter to mother. "I've had a change of schedule."
"So you'll join us?" Darlene eyes twinkled. Her chin dimpled. White-blonde curls bobbed around her full cheeks.
"No. You'll join me." Jake raked his fingers through his hair and smiled. She didn't look like the same woman who'd been having chest pains a few mere hours before. "I made five-thirty reservations at Lagniappe's."
"Lagniappe's in Church Falls?" Heather's brow furrowed. She pushed the spoon around in her melting ice cream. "Isn't that five-star cuisine?" She plopped a double spoonful of frothy ice cream with cookie bits in her mouth.
"The little mother-to-be and the Grandma-to-be deserve only the best." Much more syrupy sweet and he'd go into sugar shock. Maybe he was playing his part a little too well. But wasn't this what the little lady had ordered? What she wanted?
"You're too, too good to me." Struggling, she pushed herself out of sunken couch cushions, losing the battle with her stomach.
Jake crossed the living room to lend a hand. Heather slid a glance beyond him, to her mother, and then lifted her lips for his kiss as if she were truly his dutiful fiancé.
He stopped mid-gait, uncertain what to do. Brenda would string him up alive if she dreamed he were kissing Heather, evenly in a brotherly manner. But he didn't feel very brotherly when he thought about kissing the beautiful blonde. Every jealous bone in her body would demand revenge -- and torture.
But Heather's sweet lips beckoned to him like a siren's and her violet eyes shimmered as if the mid-morning summer sun showered them with gold. When she lifted a deceptively gentle hand to him, he took it, damning the consequences, and bent to brush her lips, pretending to be the perfect adoring fiancé.
He didn't have to pretend. Electricity flared between them like a summer's evening thunderstorm even though it was early October and pumpkin patches dotted every street corner. He allowed his lips to linger, his breath mingling with hers, tasting the cookies and cream on her lips. When he straightened, he licked the cream from his lips, his eyes glued to Heather's beautiful glowing face.
"Not good enough." How could he get another taste of that cookies and cream? Her small hand felt delicate in his large one and he tugged her up so that she was kissing distance.
Her stomach bumped into him and she laughed self-consciously. "I keep forgetting baby goes everywhere ahead of me by about half a mile."
"Not a problem," he murmured, his voice husky. "You'll be back to a size five sooner than you realize -- if you stop eating those heart-attack concoctions." He eyed the shake pointedly then tapped the dish with his finger.
"Indulge me." That teasing note in her voice tied his gut into knots. "At least I haven't sent you out to the store to get me pickled pigs feet or watermelon at midnight."
"Yet." He'd rather get her something healthy like watermelon instead of that cholesterol-filled junk. This game was fun. He felt himself slipping into the role, wondering if he should go for an academy performance. If those silky lips were his reward, he was extremely tempted.
Darlene sighed and he turned. "You're so much in love." She wrapped her arms around herself and gazed at them dreamily. "I don't know why I ever worried about my little girl. So why aren't you married yet?"
"I-I...H-he...W-we..." She paused, looking to Jake for rescue, distress flickering across her wide violet eyes. The bridge of her tip-tilted nose wrinkled. She was too adorable and he didn't think she realized it.
"Heather wanted to wait until your campaign was over. Then we planned to get married in a quiet wedding, with just you and us." He enunciated each word slowly, letting the word married roll around his tongue. "She didn't want anything to spoil your reelection. Plus, I had some work obligations to fulfill before we walked down the aisle."
"And what do you do Jacob?" Darlene folded herself into Heather's buttery soft lounge chair. She crossed her legs at her ankles and curled them to the side, her toes pointed to the floor.
"I'm an attorney. I work at my family law firm. You might have heard of us: Weber, Weber and Blake." He flashed his most charming grin and put his arm around Heather's thickened mid-section. "I'm the second Weber."
"Very impressive." Darlene scooted to the edge of her seat, her eyes glittering, her smile bright. "My little girl's marrying into a family of attorneys. What are your political aspirations?
I hadn't given much thought to entering politics." He liked helping people, not running for office or schmoozing. He rubbed his stubbled jaw. He'd have to shave before dinner. He looked pointedly at his watch. "It's time to skeedaddle. Dad has someone he wants me to meet with at three." He swatted Heather's bottom playfully and lifted his brows when she spun around shooting him a look to kill. "Be ready by five. I made reservations."
"You're working on a Saturday?" Something flashed across Heather's eyes Jake couldn't name, but it fascinated him. He had the strangest desire to look closer, to delve into her thoughts and soul. But he had no right.
"Duty calls." He shrugged his shoulders, letting the moment fade.
"Will you be ready by five?" She laughed. Her silvery voice washed over him like a mountain-brook. Again, forbidden sensations assaulted him, which he tried to shut down.
"Just bring your best appetite."
"You'll regret you told her that." Darlene tossed her head back and chuckled. "Judging from what I've witnessed today, she could eat the Trojan horse."