Blossom Street Bundle (Books 1-5). Debbie Macomber
agreed. He was in a booth, with two cups of coffee waiting by the time Alix joined him.
“How was your day?” he asked.
“Fine. How about yours?” She gave him a sharp look, despite everything she’d promised herself earlier. If he’d been talking to Laurel, she wanted to know why.
Jordan didn’t answer right away. “Do you have something on your mind?”
“Should I?” She tried to make a joke of it, then decided that wasn’t fair. Holding her mug with both hands, she stared down at the steaming coffee. “I saw you and Laurel earlier.”
Jordan didn’t offer an explanation. “That bothers you?”
She shrugged. “It did at first, but then I thought … well, that’s your business, not mine. I don’t have any hold on you.”
“You’re only partially right.”
“How’s that?”
He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips. His mouth gently grazed the inside of her palm. “You have a very strong hold on my heart.”
“Oh.” From any other man it would have sounded corny, but not Jordan. “Are you going to tell me what you and Laurel were talking about?”
He hesitated, then shook his head. “No. Are you going to trust me?”
She stared at him hard and long. Every instinct demanded that she find out what she could. Yet at the same time, she longed to believe him. Finally, with a smile, she nodded.
She hoped it was the right decision. Because a betrayal by Jordan would hurt more than any other betrayal she’d suffered in her whole life.
43
CHAPTER
CAROL GIRARD
Carol stood in the doorway of what would’ve been the baby’s nursery, and her eyes fell on the empty crib with the mobile dangling above it. Tiny zoo animals hung from a small umbrella with a music box attachment. She didn’t know why she was torturing herself like this. Nothing was going to change.
Doug came and stood behind her. “I’ll call and arrange for the department store to pick up the furniture.”
“No … don’t. Please.”
“But …”
“I made an appointment with an adoption agency.” She said the words in a rush, as if to convince him that this was the logical next step.
She felt Doug tense.
“We can’t give up now,” she implored. She couldn’t forget her need for a child. She’d tried. She’d had to accept the fact that there would be no biological child for her, but she couldn’t entirely let go of their dream. “I want so badly to be a mother. I need to be a mother. Just like you need to be a father …”
Doug’s shoulders sagged and he didn’t speak.
“I have to do this,” she pleaded. They’d discussed adoption any number of times, but always as a last resort. Carol had held on to this last thread of hope, and yet she’d feared Doug’s reaction. He’d been so quiet lately; she could feel him withdrawing from her emotionally and she couldn’t endure it.
“You’re sure you want me to go to an adoption agency with you?” he asked.
“Of course! It’s important that we prove we’re good candidates as adoptive parents.”
Her husband’s mouth thinned.
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think having a crib and a change table is going to sway an agency to choose us as potential parents.”
“I know, but it can’t hurt. I want the agency to see that we’re ready, and that we could take a baby at any time.”
He turned away from her, walked into the living room, and stood in front of the large picture window that overlooked Puget Sound.
“You don’t want to go to the interview?” Carol asked as she joined her husband. They stood side by side without touching. Like Doug, she kept her gaze trained on the waterfront.
“How much is this going to cost?”
Carol didn’t have an answer for him. The initial interview required a five-hundred-dollar deposit and as for the actual adoption, she didn’t know. “It costs as much as it costs,” she said. Whatever it was, she didn’t care.
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “Do you have any idea how much we’ve already invested in this quest for a child?”
She didn’t and furthermore it didn’t matter. As far as she was concerned, money was of little consequence. “Not really.”
“There’s a limit,” Doug said starkly, “and frankly I’ve reached it.”
“All right, then,” she snapped. “I’ll go back to work if that’s what you want. The only reason I didn’t suggest it earlier is because I thought the adoption agency would prefer a stay-at-home mother, and that might put us closer to the top of the list. But I’ll go back to work if you want me to.”
Doug turned to face her. “This is exactly what I mean,” he shouted. “We’re no longer a couple. Everything we do revolves around a baby. We used to laugh together, go out, have fun.”
“We still do,” she countered, but when she searched her memory, she realized he was right.
“I’ve been as patient with this whole process as I can stand.” Anger vibrated from him. “It costs too damn much and I—”
“In other words, money is all you’re worried about?”
“If you’d allow me to finish,” he said slowly, enunciating each word, “you’d have heard me say that the emotional price is too damn high.” He shook his head. “I can’t stand seeing you go through this pain and turmoil when the procedures don’t even work—injections five times a day, seeing the doctor every forty-eight hours…. It’s taken over your life. Our lives.”
She agreed the toll on their emotions, especially in the last few months, had been extreme. One day she was filled with despair and the next, riding a wave of hope and optimism. That was when she’d assumed Rick’s baby might be available to them. The only avenue left open to them now was adoption. They had to try. Doug couldn’t mean they should stop!
“Now you want to drag us through yet another emotional quagmire and, Carol, as much as I love you, I don’t think I can do it.”
“You have to,” she cried.
“Why?” he shouted. “Why is it always about you and your need for a baby?”
In all the years of their marriage she’d never heard Doug use this tone of voice with her. “I—it’s for us.”
“Not more than five minutes ago, you admitted the baby was for you. It’s all about your need to be a mother. You, you, you. What about me, Carol? What about my needs? What about my wants?”
“I—”
“For the last … dear God, how many years has it been? Five, six? The entire focus of our lives has been on getting you pregnant. That apparently isn’t going to happen, so fine, let’s deal with it and get on with our lives.”
“But …”
“I don’t want to adopt.”
The world all but exploded in pain and disbelief. “You don’t mean that.” Was Doug telling the truth? He couldn’t be. He was emotionally drained. She understood, because she’d hit bottom herself, but she’d recovered and Doug would, too, given time.
“I do mean it.”