Baby Makes Six. Shelley Galloway
days of it and it didn’t feel so alluring.
After parking, she went into Drew’s Diner, a knockoff fifties restaurant that served thick shakes and really good fries.
“How many?” a perky teen in a pink poodle skirt asked.
“Just one.”
“This way.”
Shawn slid into the booth, ordered their Blue Plate Special and a thick strawberry shake, and leaned back.
Moments later, as she was enjoying that shake just a little too much, she noticed a man in the booth across from her also sitting alone.
And he was watching her drink the shake in amusement. “Guess you needed that, huh?”
She met his gaze and chuckled. “Some girls need vodka martinis. I need ice cream.”
He lifted his glass. “Mine was chocolate.” Just after the server placed a plate of roast chicken, mashed potatoes and a side of green beans in front of her, he spoke again. “You dining alone?”
“Yes.”
“I am, too. Any chance you want some company?”
Shawn was stunned. Was she getting hit on? “Thanks, but no.”
“Sure? I’m told my table manners are good.”
He was kind of attractive—if you were into that vintage Robert Redford kind of look. “Thanks, but no.”
The server brought his meal—burger and fries. When their eyes met again, he looked a little abashed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I didn’t see a ring and, well, it is Friday night and you’re alone. Are you taken?”
She nodded. “Very much so. I have four kids.”
His eyes widened. “Gotcha.”
Shawn spent the rest of the meal trying not to look at him. Trying not to wonder why she didn’t feel the slightest bit of attraction to a guy who was handsome and obviously found her attractive.
And dared to wonder why saying she was the mother of four for the very first time…hadn’t sounded painful, after all.
Chapter Five
Shawn had four pairs of slacks that she rotated for work. All of them were khaki, wrinkle-free and from the same department store. All were machine washable.
Not a one of them fit.
Glaring at the waistband of the pair she was currently trying to squeeze into, she silently willed it to become elastic. That was the only way she was going to be able to close the two-inch gap. It really wasn’t fair how her body had decided to embrace this pregnancy. Just a few weeks after she’d conceived, her bra felt tight. Now, just four and a half months in, her waist was gone and the “baby bump” was a veritable mountain.
She was going to have to face it. Maternity clothes were weeks away, not months. And they were all going to have to be bought. She’d handed all her maternity clothes to Eddie to discard just days after the miscarriage, stifling any attempt he’d made to suggest keeping the clothes just in case they wanted to try again one day.
After she’d told him flat out that she’d never want to have another baby, he’d taken the sack away without another word.
Only now did she recall the look of hurt that had flashed in his eyes.
“Mommy, we’re done with breakfast!” Kit called from the kitchen.
If Shawn took two steps back on the tile floor and contorted her body to an almost perfect right angle, she could spy the girls into the breakfast nook in the kitchen through her mirror.
Of course, that position caused the gap in her pants to widen. Shoot. “I’ll be right there. Then we’ll run to Mrs. Henderson’s in a flash.”
“In a flash?” Mary asked.
Kit clapped her hands and started giggling. Mary and Elsie followed suit.
Shawn grinned at their antics but willed herself to focus on what was really important: the fact that they should already be in the van but she was standing half-naked in her bathroom.
Oh! What to wear? What to wear? Down went the pants. Off went the shirt she’d never managed to button.
Grabbing a lime-green knit sundress from the back, she pulled it over her head, slipped on a white cardigan, grabbed a pair of flats and turned off the lights.
In a race against inevitability, she trotted into the kitchen and helped Elsie out of her booster seat. “Come on, girls. Bowls in sink, then we’ve gotta go.”
Mary did the two-step. “I gotta go pee!”
“Hurry in the bathroom,” Shawn called as she propped Elsie on her hip and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go, girls! We’ve gotta fly like the wind or Mommy’s going to be late for work.”
“And for Mrs. Henderson,” Kit reminded her.
“Oh, yes. We most certainly don’t want that.”
Five minutes later the four of them were buckled in the van and on their way. The girls gripped their little back-packs in their laps and sang along with the latest Disney soundtrack Shawn had popped into the CD player.
After checking in at Carnegie and completing some necessary paperwork, she clocked out in preparation for the hour she’d been dreading and hopped back in the van.
Before she knew it, she was walking in the doctor’s office at 10:00 a.m. sharp. Oh, she’d been in no hurry to see this place again. All it did was remind her that her days with toddlers were most certainly not coming to an end.
And worse—now she was alone.
Already seated in the pink-and-cream waiting room were several pregnant women, each looking younger than the next. Stacks of parenting magazines, the covers emblazoned with peppy headlines and positive-looking glowing mothers, lay on antique-white coffee tables.
Shawn had stopped reading those magazines years ago. Those “fun family adventures” had seemed ridiculous when all three girls had contracted strep throat at the same time.
Suddenly she felt very frumpy and old in her lime dress.
All too soon, Nancy called her in. “I didn’t expect to see you back here so soon, Mrs. Wagner,” the nurse said as she led the way to the scale. “Weren’t you just in here a few months ago for your yearly checkup?”
Shawn stepped on the scale and resolved not to notice just how much she’d already gained. “Yes, but unfortunately something happened.”
Nancy, who’d been writing down her weight, paused. “Is everything okay?”
“Technically, yes. Emotionally, no.” Nancy had worked in Dr. Axman’s office during all of Shawn’s pregnancies. There was no sense in trying to be discreet. “I’m pretty sure I’m pregnant.”
“I see.” A mixture of emotions flashed through the redhead’s eyes as she put two and two together. Yes, Shawn was divorced. Yes, Dr. Axman had renewed her prescription for birth control pills when Shawn had come in for her annual just six months ago.
But ever the professional, Nancy made a few more notes without saying a word, then handed Shawn a cup. “You know the drill. When you come out of the bathroom, we’ll go ahead and get your blood work taken care of.”
Shawn barely cracked a smile as she took the cup and headed to the open door on the left. “I’ll be right out.”
But a few minutes later, when she was sitting on the table, holding her elbow to her side so the Band-Aid wouldn’t pull the skin like it always did, Shawn felt tears prick her eyes. What a difference seven years made!
Vividly she recalled how excited she’d been during her first pregnancy. The seemingly endless supply