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Them. Raneesha meant the fictional people Amara had created, the loving couple who would be adopting her child. When Quint arrived, he’d tell Raneesha that his wife had been unable to travel with him. And then he’d take the baby and go.
And that would be that. Momma fooled. Time to move on.
Amara had called Quint as soon as it was confirmed she was in labor, and that was over a day ago. He told her to do her best to hold the baby in until he got there. It was a silly joke, of course, but it lightened her mood until another contraction hit.
And it turned out, as one hour led to another which led to another, she’d needed all the mood lifting she could get. She’d gotten a few texts from Quint in the early hours, but nothing else. She thought something must have been keeping him from his phone, if that were possible, because she knew he was excited about the birth, and concerned about the baby’s health.
And he’d shown concern for Amara, too. She’d probably never been in better health in her life thanks to Quint’s attention and encouragement during the pregnancy. He’d actually said once that he couldn’t even think about the possibility of anything bad happening to her because of their bargain.
So why hadn’t she heard from him again? She’d texted and tried to call to tell him the baby was born, but she’d gotten no response.
The plan had been for him to be there before she delivered, and he should have been, even though he’d been forced to travel overseas so close to her due date. Quint had worked it out so that in his private jet, he could get from wherever he was and back to the hospital in well under a day.
It had been too long since she’d heard from him: no calls, no texts, no emails, no messages from his assistants or attorney. It made no sense. Something wasn’t right. It took everything in her to push the worst from her mind.
At the same time, she struggled with the ethical implication of something having gone wrong. What would that mean for her and the baby?
A soft knock at the door pulled her from her melancholy window gazing.
A pretty, middle-aged nurse entered, wearing a warm, wide smile. She clasped her clipboard in both hands expectantly. “Hello, Miss Davis. Everything has been taken care of, if you’d like to see your baby now. Are you ready?”
Damn. Amara’s heart flipped over in her chest. No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
All it took was hearing the nurse referring to the baby as hers to break Amara’s tenuous hold on her composure. The idea of seeing her child immediately blurred her vision with tears. She couldn’t think of what to say.
Why was she having to say anything? Where the fuck was Quint?
She muttered half-incoherently. “N-no, that’s … that’s all right. I need a little while longer.”
The nurse gave a deferential nod and tucked the clipboard away, behind her back. “I understand, Miss Davis. When you’re ready to see your son, press the call button there, and I’ll be right in, okay?”
Amara gave a slight nod and turned her gaze to the deluge outside. The nurse left the room without another word, gently closing the door behind her.
Raneesha touched her arm. “Are you okay? You’ve been acting so strange. I know it’s got to be hard on you. You don’t have to go through with the adoption, no matter what they might say.”
“I know, Momma. It’s not that,” Amara said in a hollow voice.
“You carried that baby, same as I carried you. Your father was never around, either, and we did just fine. With your education and fine job at the university, you won’t have problems supporting a child. And I know you’d make a wonderful, wonderful mother.”
Chapter Eight
THIS PRAISE EARNED RANEESHA A hard look. Amara had been resisting the persistent attempts to get her to reconsider from not only her mother, but occasionally from Kari as well.
“Momma, this isn’t the same. I don’t have a lifestyle that would allow me to be the kind of mother I’d have to be, not with all my work and traveling. I’m going to do what’s best for the baby. Being with me isn’t it. I told you, I …”
She took a quick moment to regain her composure, her gaze now cast down to her hands still folded over her stomach. “I can’t talk about this right now, please. The adoptive parents should’ve been here a while ago. I’m waiting for them.”
“Well, I’m going to see the baby. Say what you want about getting attached, I wanna see my baby girl’s child.” Raneesha stood and leaned over to kiss the crown of Amara’s head. “It’s all right. I know this is hard on you. You’ll be okay no matter what happens. Momma’s here for you.”
Amara gave a soft nod. “I know. Thank you. I’ll see you in a little while. I’m gonna try to get some sleep.”
Raneesha made her way to the door. “Goodnight, sugar. Rest up.” She closed the door gently behind her as she stepped out.
Amara heaved a heavy sigh of both relief and distress. She wasn’t used to turmoil like this, normally leading an uneventful life of teaching and long hours of solitude in a laboratory. And she wasn’t used to having to lie about her life, especially to her mother.
With her associates and colleagues, it was easier. Their assumptions about her pregnancy made her more than content to let them keep believing whatever they pleased.
Raneesha was a different case. Every time Amara didn’t correct her, every time she withheld the truth of the pregnancy, guilt swelled in her heart, and she was full to bursting now.
