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Had to be able to do whatever was possible to help her babies if they were in trouble.
The thought drew her up. With a hand on her already swelling belly, she made them a promise that she would do whatever it took to give them the best life they could possibly have. This wasn’t about her. It was about them.
The doctor had said she wasn’t worried. And now it was Mallory’s job to stay positive. To do all she could.
And she would.
But as she drove to the office she wished she wasn’t doing it alone.
She needed Braden. Wanted so badly to call him.
But she didn’t.
Chapter Sixteen
Sometime after midnight that night, Mallory sat in the old-fashioned wooden rocker with the brightly colored cushions, a teddy bear clutched to her, and looked at the identically adorned, empty cribs on either side of her.
She’d fallen asleep on the couch earlier and had finally made it to bed around ten. But by eleven, she’d been wide awake again, her mind spinning with facts. She knew a lot more than she’d known that afternoon, thanks to her internet research. While there were many genetic disorders that could have shown up on her test, the majority of the most severe had been ruled out. She could have heard that one or both of her babies wouldn’t make it through the first year of life. She hadn’t heard that.
There was still a slight chance she could. And a greater chance that either or both of the babies could have a chromosome disorder that would retard their development in any number of ways. She’d have the test results on Monday.
Along with sexes for both children. It had been an option on the blood test, finding that out. She’d checked that box, figuring she’d have something to look forward to hearing when the doctor’s office called her back.
Until then, she’d worry. As she clutched the teddy bear, she reminded herself that there was every chance the first test had been a false positive. She reminded herself of the normal ultrasound. And she told herself she’d love her babies, whatever the test showed.
The physician’s assistant had told her that afternoon that one of the reasons they wanted to check further immediately was because one of her choices, depending on the results, would be to terminate the pregnancy.
She’d shaken her head even while the woman had still been speaking. And she shook it again as she sat alone in the nursery. She couldn’t even consider termination.
Just completely wrong for her.
Laying her head back against the chair, she rocked gently, hugging the bear, looking at the glow of the night-light on the ceiling. Tears came, dripped slowly down her cheeks. And they dried there.
Her mind slipped back in time to a similar night a month after Tucker had died. She’d been in his nursery, sitting in the glider rocker she’d used every single night of his life except the last one. Holding a stuffed penguin Julia, her coworker, had given him. Braden, who’d woken up and found her missing from their bed, had come looking for her. He’d tried to coax her back to bed.
When she wouldn’t leave the nursery he’d started in again about calling someone to take everything away. He’d said she was making a shrine out of the nursery and that it was unhealthy. That she had to get a grip on herself.
She’d sat right there in that chair, clutching Tucker’s penguin, and screamed at the top of her lungs, telling him he better not dare take away one thing of Tucker’s. “Haven’t you already taken enough?” she’d screamed, referring to the fact that Braden had taken away her chance to spend Tucker’s last moments with him.
She’d never been so angry.
Now, sitting there in the new nursery, thinking back, she could feel the anger all over again.
She felt it anew as she considered his probable reaction to her current situation.
He hadn’t been responsible for Tucker’s death. Hadn’t been in any way responsible for what had happened. Yet, she’d blamed him.
She hadn’t been able to blame her son. And his death certainly hadn’t been the nanny’s fault. Mallory had blamed herself, of course. Not only for leaving, but for her body maybe not quite developing the portion of Tucker’s brain that was in charge of breathing regulation.
But mostly, she’d blamed Braden. Because he’d taken her away. Because he hadn’t allowed her to experience the pain that was eating her up inside.
He’d wanted her to be like him. To be able to move on. But she’d hardly been able to move at all.
Braden hadn’t understood that, which had made her angrier.
She’d blamed him for an act of God.
The truth was clear now and, wide awake, she sat up straight, glancing around the room like there were people there, aware of what she’d done.
