Dana Collins laughed and dropped the phone in the cradle.
Though she wanted to spin and twirl in a victory dance, movements like that had
to wait. Client number five had signed the contract for her billing service for
people in health care. This client had passed the info to a friend.
Yes. She rubbed her protruding belly. “We’re on our way,
baby.” She could work at home and never return to nursing, the career she’d
spent four years in college to earn a BS.
With a groan she pushed against the arms of the office
chair. One hand went to her back to ease the nagging pain. Being nine months
pregnant and seven months divorced should make her feel anything but happy.
This morning the last of the documents had arrived officially returning her to
her maiden name. As Randy had demanded during the negotiations, his name
wouldn’t appear on the birth certificate. His ugly words still hurt.
“No child of yours is fit to wear the Grantlan name.
Melanie’s baby will.”
Those words had crushed her and she had agreed.
Bastard.
Her memories flashed to the day she’d told him about the
pregnancy. “We’ll be a real family.” She’d been wrong.
“Get an abortion.”
Stop it. Don’t go there. She’d soon have the family she
wanted. Randy Grantlan was history.
Dana stretched. The nagging backache had come and gone all
day. Was labor about to begin? Though she had book knowledge about pregnancy,
other than at school, she’d never worked in obstetrics.
Her stomach growled. Dana groaned. She’d been so focused on
her new venture she’d forgotten to eat lunch. She glanced at the clock on the
mantle above the fireplace. Four o’clock. She needed to eat. As she left the
family room for the long walk to the kitchen at the other end of the house, she
smiled. She couldn’t wait to sell this place.
The doorbell chimed. Who?
She reached the foyer and nearly tripped over the small
suitcase and the infant seat. Though she could drive to the hospital, she Knew
Dr. Scott wouldn’t let her drive home after the delivery. The hospital parking
lot was the last place she wanted to leave her car. When the moment arrived,
she would call a cab.
Dana opened the door to find her birthing partner on the
doorstep. The green scrubs meant Madge had come straight from work. “Don’t tell
me they’ve changed your hours again.”
Madge shook her head. Wispy curls the color of dandelions
bounded. “Not this week. Told the supervisor no evenings or nights until you
have the baby.” She frowned. “Haven’t you heard?”
“About what?”
Madge hesitated. “Do you ever read the paper or listen to the
local news?”
“Don’t have a paper delivered and spent the day on the
computer.” Dana stepped aside. “Come in. I just signed client number five. I
was about to have a late lunch or an early supper.” She let her friend down the
hall past the huge living and dining rooms to the kitchen filled with every
appliance needed to create a gourmet meal.
Madge sat at the table. “There’s something I need to tell
you.”
“Wait until I make a salad. I’m so hungry I feel faint.”
Dana’s stomach rumbled so loud she blushed.
“You need to take better care of yourself.” Madge said.
“You’re eating…”
“For two," Dana finished. She grabbed and opened a bag
of salad greens, diced a tomato, added some strips of ham and chicken, plus two
slices of hard-boiled eggs with some light dressing. After pouring iced tea for
Madge and fruit juice for herself she joined her friend. “I need to do some
grocery shopping before I go into labor.”
Madge looked up. “Your due date’s tomorrow. Make a list.
I’ll shop for you.”
“I’ll do that this evening.” She dug into the salad and
sighed with pleasure. After she’d eaten half the food she looked at Madge.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing on my end. Since you didn’t read the paper or
listen to the news, I’ll tell you. Randy died in an automobile accident
sometime yesterday. The staff was buzzing with the news.”
“You’re kidding.” Dana wasn’t sure how she felt about the
news. Though she’d tried, the marriage had ended long before she’d stopped
trying to form a family with Randy.
Madge shook her head. “It’s true. Big splash in today’s
paper. About the loss and about State Senator Blan’s daughter.”
“Where?”
“On that narrow road from the Club.”
Dana drew a deep breath. She’d been a passenger in Randy’s
car down that road. “Was he drunk?” She knew the answer. He’d never known his
limit.
“Nothing about alcohol was mentioned,” Madge said. “The
nursing home was filled with gossip and most agreed he’d been drinking.”
Dana made a face. “I’m sure his father quashed any reports
of alcohol levels.”
Madge nodded. “Robert Grantlan would do that. The Grantlan
family has no faults. One of the orderlies ran into Patricia this noon. She’s
accusing every woman Randy ever slept with of joining a conspiracy.”
“Even me.”
“Afraid so.”
Dana thought of her confrontations with Randy’s twin. Patricia
had been angry about the engagement, the marriage and the divorce. Dana had
stopped attending dinners at the Club long before the divorce. “What are you
holding back?”
“He and Melanie Blan were celebrating their engagement.”
Dana met her friend’s gaze. “I know. That’s one of the
reasons he wanted a divorce. She was fit to be a Grantlan and have Grantlan
babies.”
“The jerk.”
“I agree.” She didn’t completely blame Randy. Much of his
attitude had been instilled and cultivated by his father. Robert Grantlan had
been furious when all she’d received after her parents’ deaths was twenty-five
thousand dollars. “Is there a viewing? Will the coffin be open or closed?”
With a click Madge set her glass on the table. “This
evening. All day tomorrow. Funeral the next day.”
“Where?”
“Fern
Lake
“I might, especially to see May. She’s kept in touch. Look
at the layette and cradle she sent for the baby.”
“Don’t go. Call her. Send a card.”
“Maybe I need to see him.”
“Why?”
Dana gulped a breath. She wasn’t sure. Though she felt a bit
of sadness about his death, she wasn’t grieving. Any grieving had ended the day she told him
about the pregnancy and how she’d been lured into marriage.
Madge shook her head. “I think you’re crazy to step into
that wasp nest but if you need closure, go ahead.”
Dana didn’t know what she needed. She had her life on track
and there was nothing those people could give her now. She pushed the rest of
the salad away.
Madge rose. “Just to let you know. Jim and I have a dinner
date and then the movies. I’ll leave my phone on. The minute you have a
contraction, call.”
“Will do.”
After Madge left, Dana studied the shelves and began a list
she put on the fridge. She leaned against the cool surface. Should she go to
the funeral home? Madge thought she was crazy for considering a visit but she
felt a need to see her former mother-in-law. How was May handling Randy’s
death? May had often quarreled with her younger son about his drinking and the
stormy relationship hadn’t been good. Still, May was his mother. Losing a child
must be dreadful.
Dana placed her hand on her belly. “Should I make an
appearance? Your daddy’s dead, not that you can ever claim him.” A thought
stabbed. When the baby was old enough, how would she explain Randy’s rejection
or the threats he’d made if she ever tried to name him as the baby’s father?
She’d no doubt he would have carried out those threats. Being called a whore
and an opportunist would have caused her to leave Fern Lake
The baby kicked. Dana nodded. She would go, speak to May and
express her sympathy. The older woman needed to know someone understood mixed
feelings.
Dana walked upstairs to change into the only dark maternity
dress in her closet. The dark green color made her eyes greener and flattered
her coloring giving her the courage to face the other members of the Grantlan
family.
As she brushed her hair one thought nearly made her change
her mind. Would Simon come for the funeral?
Why consider the possibility? He hadn’t made an appearance
in Fern Lake
A memory from her wedding night arose. Randy had gloated
over getting what Simon hadn’t taken. Her virginity.
She grasped the railing and walked downstairs. Ten years had
passed since she’d seen Simon.
Forget the past. All she wanted was to make a quick
appearance at the funeral home and speak to May.
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