33. Madison
I couldn’t rememberthe last time I’d taken two full days off work, but here I was, seated in the front of Ian’s BMW, inching along the city streets on our way to see my obstetrician, and still fuming that Liane had insisted he go with me.
I was used to doing things on my own. I didn’t need anyone. The only thing that had kept me from putting my foot down was the fact that something felt off. Not that I’d ever been pregnant before and knew how I should feel, but I knew my body, and my body was telling me something. Having someone else with me made sense, since things weren’t only about me anymore.
“You okay?” Ian asked after getting caught at another red light.
“I’m fine, thank you.”
An irritated sigh followed. “You know, you don’t have to be so formal with me. It’s weird. Obviously you and I had a moment. A hot fucking moment. To act all prim and proper when I’ve seen you?—”
I held up my hand. “I get it. Regardless, we don’t know each other. You can’t seriously expect me to treat you like a former schoolmate.”
He snorted. “There you go again. Do you always speak like you have a stick up your ass?”
The words were surprisingly not spoken with malice, but they stung, nonetheless. I wanted to stomp my foot and demand he stop at the next corner and let me out, but I held my tongue. Like it or not, I’d been born with a stick up my ass. It was how I was raised. But was it really how I wanted to behave?
Nothing made sense anymore. My body was turning on me and so was my head.
Instead of reacting, I gripped the handle of the baby blue Chanel bag Gibby had given me before she left for France and stared out the window.
“I’m sorry,” Ian continued. “I didn’t mean that the way it came out.”
I snickered. “That was a compliment then?”
He sighed. “No. I just mean you’re cold and distant.”
Ian continued as if he hadn’t insulted me, again. “I want us to be friends. And you don’t talk to me like you talk to Liane. That’s what I meant.”
“Liane and I have been friends since we were undergrads at Bryn Mawr. You can’t expect me to feel the same way about you that I feel about her.”
“No, but it would mean a lot to me if you could be a little nicer. I apologize for being a major fuckwit before. You didn’t deserve it. But c’mon, Madison, we’re having a baby together. And I have every intention of being in my child’s life. Forever. So like it or not, we’re going to be connected for the rest of our lives. You can make it easy or you can make it hard. It’s up to you. As far as I’m concerned, I’d like us to get along; be friends, at the very least.”
I checked out his profile. Strong jaw, straight nose, full lips, neatly trimmed beard, but still rugged somehow. I remembered how that beard felt under my fingers. Something fluttered inside me. It wasn’t the baby; this was higher, in my chest. I swallowed thickly.
“At the very least?”
He looked at me and smiled, and I felt a different tingle; this one much lower.
“Our relationship doesn’t have to be so disagreeable. We can still have fun now and then.” He winked. I wanted to slap him and climb into his lap at the same time.
Relying on that stick up my ass, I refused to react—at least on the outside. On the inside, I was a hot mess.
Ian pulled up in front of Dr. Abernathy’s building, jumped out of the car, and ran around to open my door. “I’m going to find a place to park, and I’ll be right in. Do you want to wait for me in the lobby or go to the doctor’s office and wait?”
“I don’t want to wait for you at all.” I sniffed. “But since you and Liane have given me no choice, I’ll wait upstairs. Dr. Abernathy’s office is on the fourth floor.” I stepped out, taking his hand to help me up. It was warm and firm and I felt more of those stupid tingles. I also felt guilty for being a bitch.
“I won’t be long,” he called as I slammed the door.
I was grateful that I only had to cross the sidewalk to enter the building. It wasn’t even ten a.m. and already the air was thick with humidity; heat radiated off the pavement. Thank god for air conditioning. I couldn’t imagine being pregnant without it.
I’d barely reached the receptionist’s desk when Ian was beside me, his face red and sweaty. He ran his hands through his hair and my knees wobbled. Had he run up four flights of stairs?
He looked down at me with concern. “How about you go sit and I’ll check you in?” Without waiting for me to answer—good thing because my mouth had gone dry—he settled his hand on my back and turned me toward a chair in the corner. As he led me across the room like I was an invalid, I noticed other couples sitting side-by-side, holding hands, nervous excitement radiating from them. I’d envied them before when I was here; found myself jealous. With the looks Ian was getting—from recognition to shock at seeing him here—I might be on the receiving end of a little envy this time. I gave a little sniff and took a seat.
A low buzz hummed around the room as Ian waited to check me in. He might not be as recognizable as Beau Edward Taylor, the lead singer of his band, but to country music lovers and fans of The Gravel Hill Boys, Ian was an icon. His bad-boy ways and bigger-than-life personality preceded him, and more than a few people were surreptitiously trying to check me out as well, probably trying to figure out who I was and why Ian was here with me. There had been no announcement of Ian becoming a father, but now that we’d been spotted and he had declared himself an active participant, Liane would have to get on that.
Or I would have to get on it. Liane would have her hands full once she landed in London, thanks to Trevor and the public relations nightmare he was embroiled in over in the UK
“Do you want a magazine?” Ian held up a dog-eared copy of some parenting magazine after dropping down next to me.
I shook my head. Between the sex god beside me, the unexpected stares and whispers, and worry about what might be wrong, it would be impossible to try and read. Then again, having something to try and focus on wasn’t a bad idea. I snatched the magazine from him. “I changed my mind,” I said to his surprised look.
Head down, eyes seeing nothing, I carelessly flipped through the pages while Ian thumbed through his own magazine.
“Hey, listen to this.” He leaned in and I caught a whiff of his cologne. He smelled of leather, cedar, and bad decisions. I inhaled deeply. “This article lists rock star baby names. What do you think of Jagger?”
“I think you’re delusional.”
“Jagger Donohue,” he continued, undeterred. “Has a nice ring to it.”
I frowned. “That’s rather presumptuous of you. Who says the baby’s name will be Donohue?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? I’m his father. Babies take their father’s last name.”
“And I’m the baby’s mother, which means it should have my name.”
He opened his mouth to argue with me, but then closed it and went back to reading his article while I remained primed for an argument.
“What about Elvis?”
I snorted and rolled my lips together to keep from laughing.
“Elton? Axl?”
I tried to ignore him.
“Iggy? Ozzy?”
“Dear lord,” I muttered.
“Nikki?”
“What about girls’ names? What makes you think it’s a boy?”
“Nikki could go either way. I meant Nikki Sixx, but it’s gender-neutral.”
“True.”
“How about Janis? Aretha? Shirley?”
“Shirley? Are we expecting an eighty-year-old woman?”
“No Shirley, got it. How about Greta? Avril? Lilith? I know! Miley!”
“Stop.” I was laughing hard now. If we weren’t attracting attention before, we sure were now. People around us smiled. Some laughed. Ian was not quiet or shy in any sense of the word. In fact, in spite of everyone watching him, he carried on as if we were alone. He was either excessively comfortable living his life in the public eye or seriously oblivious.
I imagined it could go either way with him.
“Ms. Enright?”
A nurse called my name and I stood. Ian stood up beside me.
I narrowed my eyes. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“With you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then you thought wrong.” He cupped my elbow in his broad palm and guided me toward the waiting nurse.
“Ian, you can’t come with me.”
“Yes, he can,” the nurse said as if her opinion mattered. “He’s welcome to join you.” Her cheeks pinked and she grinned up at Ian as if he were the patient and I was the one tagging along.
“See, I’m welcome to join you.” He leaned closer. “Besides, you can’t blame me if I want to meet the doctor before you’re in labor.”
My swollen feet slowed to a stop. “In the delivery room? What makes you think?—”
“C’mon, doctor’s waiting. We’re lucky she squeezed you in.”
I was being steamrolled. “Ian.”
First we stopped so I could pee in a cup while Ian and the nurse waited outside the door—chatting. Talk about pressure. Good thing I could pee at the drop of a hat these days.
“Room four, please,” the nurse said. After we entered, she handed me a gown and a drape, and asked me to remove everything from the waist down. She stepped out, closing the door behind her.
Ian took a seat in the lone chair by the wall and returned to his magazine.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
His eyes lifted and he gave me a confused look as he held up the magazine. “Reading?”
“Not while I’m getting undressed you’re not.”
“C’mon, babe. It’s not like there’s anything under that dress that I haven’t seen before.”
“Get. Out.”
“How about I close my eyes?”
“Out!”
“Calm down,” he warned.
“Then get out and let me undress.”
He stood, set the magazine on the chair, and turned back to me. “Fine, but I’ll be right outside that door. Gimme a holler when you’re ready.”
“I’ll never be ready,” I muttered.
“I heard you.”
“I wanted you to hear me.”
With two fingers, he pointed to his eyes and then pointed the fingers at me, repeating the motion to assure me that he was watching me. It made no sense whatsoever since he’d be in the hall. But whatever.
When the door clicked closed, I set my bag on the chair with his magazine and slipped off my panties, followed by the silk slip dress I was wearing. I pulled on the scratchy floral gown, then folded my panties and dress together and set them on the countertop, far enough away from the sink so that they wouldn’t get wet when the doctor washed her hands. These examination rooms should include a wardrobe so that patients could hang their garments.
I used the step at the base of the exam table and shimmied up into place, then covered my lap with the oversized paper towel that was supposed to preserve my modesty.
A light tap sounded on the door, and my frustration at the situation boiled over.
“Impatient much?” I snapped. “Come in.”
The door opened slowly and Dr. Abernathy poked her head inside. “Are you sure?”
Heat creeped up my cheeks. “Sorry, yes, of course. I thought you were…you know…him.” I pointed at the smirking Adonis who followed the doctor through the door.
Dr. Abernathy gave me a warm smile. “Daddy and I were just getting acquainted. I have to say, I was surprised to see Ian Donohue standing in my hallway. I’m a big fan.”
As owner of the firm that promoted The Gravel Hill Boys, I should’ve been delighted to hear that. As the woman he went out of his way to annoy, I wanted to growl.
“That’s okay, little mama. You can call me Daddy too.” Ian had the balls to wink at me.
Dr. Abernathy snickered, and it suddenly felt like it was two against one—me being the one.
The doctor motioned for Ian to sit while she leaned against the counter. “Tell me what’s going on. I wasn’t supposed to see you for another two weeks.”
I began to speak, but Ian beat me to it. “She’s been having bad headaches, mostly behind her eyes. And dizzy spells. Sometimes when she stands, it takes her a few moments to get her bearings. She’s also tired and stressed and refuses to slow down. And her ankles.” He pointed at the two grapefruits that connected my shins to my feet. “They’re gone. I mean, look at them. That’s not normal, is it, Doc?”
Doc?Who was he now, Bugs Bunny?
“Ian,” I gritted. “I can speak for myself, thank you very much.” The moment Liane landed in London, she was getting an earful about blabbing about my situation.
Ian leaned toward Dr. Abernathy and lowered his voice. “And she’s really cranky.”
“Ian,” I snapped.
He angled his head in my direction. “See what I mean?”
Dr. Abernathy stepped toward me and patted my knee. “Let’s get an ultrasound of your baby and then we’ll talk. Okay?”
A second later a different nurse than the one who’d taken my vitals entered with the ultrasound machine. Her reaction to the brawny country music star standing beside me was the same as everyone else’s. A rush of jealousy raced through me when Ian gave her a wink and the girl nearly tripped over herself as she left the room.
“Knock it off,” I grumbled.
“I’m just being a nice guy.”
“Be nice on your own time.” That made no sense, but I didn’t care.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you both that stress isn’t good for you or the baby,” the doctor said.
Ian smiled that annoying, charming smile of his. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“Good. Now, Ian, are you ready to see your baby?”
With the drape covering my lower bits and the gown pulled up to expose my baby bump, the doctor squirted warm goo onto my stomach and gently moved the wand through it and over my belly. A grainy black-and-white image appeared on the screen. I’d seen this before, but it never failed to amaze me.
“Holy shit.” Ian’s voice was low and reverent. “That’s our baby? It doesn’t look like a satsuma at all.”
Dr. Abernathy laughed. “A what?”
“Satsuma. It’s a Japanese citrus fruit. That’s about the size it was when Madison first told me she was pregnant.” He smiled down at me and my belly wasn’t the only thing feeling gooey.
“I’m guessing Daddy’s been reading up on your pregnancy, hasn’t he?”
Ian grinned. “He has.”
I pressed a finger under my nose while the backs of my eyes pricked and burned. Damn hormones.
Dr. Abernathy did some quick measurements while Ian gaped in wonder. “Your satsuma is about the length of a rutabaga now.”
“It has a nose,” Ian said. “And actual fingers.”
A strange sense of what I could only describe as joy came over me.
“What the fuck?” He grabbed my hand. “Look, Mads. It’s sucking its thumb. Holy shit. Our kid’s a genius.”
The tears spilled over as I laughed along with Dr. Abernathy.
“Do you want to know the sex?”
“No.”
“Yes.”
I swung my gaze to Ian who was still squinting at the screen. “No,” I repeated, yanking my hand from his.
He looked down at me with a frown. “My half wants to know.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
Dr. Abernathy looked back and forth between us. “If you don’t want to know, I could write it down and give it to Ian.”
“Yes,” he said.
“No.”
“Why?” he grumbled.
“Because I don’t trust you.”
“You don’t even know me,” he argued.
Well, that’s not embarrassing at all. The lights in the room had been dimmed so the color of my cheeks—red—weren’t too visible. “Ian, you only decided to be a part of this baby’s life about two minutes ago. Why would I trust you knowing something that I don’t when it comes to my body? My baby?”
“Our baby,” he answered, unfazed. “Besides, I proposed.”
I snorted, while Dr. Abernathy issued her congratulations.
“We’re not engaged,” I snapped. How could she even think such a thing? “I think he’s suffering permanent damage from the concussion he received when he fainted after learning he was going to be a father.”
“You fainted?” Despite the dim room, the mirth in Dr. Abernathy’s eyes was visible.
Ian’s broad shoulders lifted and fell. “I was in shock.”
I huffed. “I gave him the positive test stick and he thought it was a thermometer. Do you understand why I don’t want him to know? He’ll be blabbing it all over, and then I’ll have no choice but to know.”
“I’m not gonna blab. Jeez.”
“It’s my decision whether or not you get to know, and I say no.”
Ian looked at the doctor for confirmation. She nodded.
“Sorry, but she’s right. She’s the patient and what she says goes.”
“Don’t I have any rights?”
I’d slug him if we didn’t have a witness.
“Not really. Not until after the baby’s born.” She moved the wand and clicked a few buttons. “Let me finish up here. I’ll print off some pictures of your little satsuma-rutabaga , and then we have some things we need to discuss.”
A tight knot formed in my chest. “What’s wrong?”
Ian moved closer. This time when he reached for my hand, I let him keep it.
“Nothing’s wrong. We just want to make sure it stays that way.”
While she finished whatever it was she was doing, Ian’s thumb gently caressed my knuckles. Regardless of my earlier misgivings, I was glad I wasn’t alone.
Dr. Abernathy gave me a paper towel to clean the goo off my belly, and then turned off the ultrasound machine and moved it into the corner. Without asking, Ian pulled the paper drape up over my belly, then retook my hand.
“You’re making me nervous,” I said. A stolen glance at Ian told me he felt the same.
“Don’t be,” Dr. Abernathy insisted. “But I do have some concerns. The baby is perfectly healthy. The heartbeat is strong and the measurements are all tracking exactly where they should.”
“But…” Ian said, reading my mind.
“But, your blood pressure is higher than we like to see. There’s no protein in your urine, which is good, but left unchecked, high blood pressure could progress to preeclampsia, which can be a serious situation and often leads to having to deliver the baby earlier than we’d like.”
My mouth had gone dry and my brain turned to mush. Ian, however, wasn’t suffering from the same apocalyptic response. His hand opened and he threaded his fingers with mine. I held on for dear life.
“What about bed rest?” he asked. “Would that help?
“Absolutely. And that’s exactly what I’m going to order.”
“And stress?” He continued as if the tables had turned and he was the patient and I was the one along for the ride. “She has a stressful job. Shouldn’t she be taking steps to lower that stress.”
Dr. Abernathy smiled. “I see you’ve been doing your homework.” She turned her attention to me. “Madison, you’re a Type A personality, and I know you’re going to want to fight me on this, but you need to listen. I’m putting you on bed rest for the next three weeks. That means staying home and lying in bed, on your sofa, or in a recliner with your feet up.” She rested a hand on my knee. “And no work. No emails, text messages. Not even a carrier pigeon.”
My voice came back all at once. “No work? How can you expect me not to work? I run my own business. I have clients all over the world who need me.” I hooked a thumb at Ian. “Clients like this one, who regularly get themselves in a world of trouble.”
“Not once have I given you any trouble.”
My glare lasered in on him and my hand rested on my belly. “No? What do you call this then?”
“A baby,” he said, and the reverence in his voice and the shine in his eyes hit me all at once. “Our baby, Madison. Little Satsuma here is a gift, not trouble.”
He’d completely caught me off guard. “Little Satsuma?”
Ian shrugged. “You won’t let me know if it’s a boy or a girl, and my sister threatened to castrate me if I kept calling her kid It, so Little Satsuma it is.”
I blinked once. Twice. And swallowed the tiny boulder in my throat, grateful that I was still partially lying down. My limbs felt like noodles and the rest of me was getting all swoony. But then I remembered why we were here and what the doctor had just said about me being on bed rest. If she was worried about my blood pressure before, she might want to check it again since her edict had just sent it skyrocketing.
“I’m sorry,” I said, holding up my hand, unable to deal with what Ian was saying and unwilling to deal with what the doctor had said. “Let’s back up, shall we? There’s no way I can lie around all day and not operate my business.”
“Sure you can,” Ian piped in.
I arched a brow while he rolled his eyes, folded his arms across his chest, and leaned that big body of his against the wall. His hair fell over his eyes and with a flick of his head, it settled back into place. I peeled my eyes off the veins in his forearms and tried to remember what I’d wanted to say.
“Dr. Abernathy, there has to be another way. Isn’t there something you can give me to lower my blood pressure?”
“Can you take medication for high blood pressure? Yes. However, I’d rather take a more holistic approach and have you work on eliminating or at least reducing your stress. High blood pressure isn’t just a matter of taking a pill. It warrants a lifestyle change; at least while you’re pregnant. Untreated and unmanaged it can harm you and the baby. Hypertension can result in the baby getting less oxygen, which means it will grow slower. There’s a potential for premature birth, and once the baby’s born, potential for breathing problems. You might also experience placental abruption, which in severe cases, can causes heavy bleeding and become life-threatening to both you and the baby. Then there’s the issue of preeclampsia, which means you?—”
I raised my hand. “Enough. I get it.”
“I knew you would. You’re a smart woman. Is there someone who can stay with you over the next three weeks? I’d rather you not be alone.”
This again. “I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Not a babysitter, but someone who will cater to you. The only time I want you up and moving is to and from your bed or your couch. And to and from your bathroom. Otherwise, load up your Kindle and find something to binge on television.”
“I’ll take care of her.”
My head snapped. “No, thanks. I’ll call someone.”
“Who?” Ian continued as if his opinion mattered. “Liane is one her way to London. Your grandmother is on the other side of the world. Your father’s in France, and you have no clue where your mother is.”
Liane had a big mouth.
“I’ll call my assistant.”
“Your assistant will be in your office, working, especially since you won’t be.”
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me what to do?”
“Um… the baby’s father? Duh.”
“If you expect me to lower my blood pressure, it won’t be possible with him around,” I insisted, hoping that Dr. Abernathy would see the untenable position she was putting me in.
“Actually, Madison, if Ian is willing to take care of you for the next three weeks, it might be exactly what you need.”
She made a few clicks on the exam room computer before waving her ID card and signing off. When she returned her focus to me, I was unnerved to see real concern on her face.
“It’s your call, but you both have a stake in the health of your baby. Ian clearly wants to be involved. You should let him take care of you. Let him spoil you while you get to know each other.”
There were dozens of legitimate reasons why this was a bad idea, but I couldn’t think of one that would save me. Instead, I came off sounding like the poor little rich girl. “I don’t need him to spoil me; I can spoil myself.”
Dr. Abernathy pinned me with a serious gaze.
“This is for the health of your baby, Madison. I can order you to rest and to reduce your stress, but I can’t police you. He can, and from what I’ve seen here today, I believe he will. You two have the same goal—a healthy mother and baby. Use it to your advantage.”
With a tight smile, she patted my knee and then shook Ian’s hand. “Ian, it was very nice meeting you. I hope I’ll be seeing more of you as we progress.” After a quick glance in my direction, she added, “I’ll see you in three weeks, and we’ll reassess. Good luck.”