The Baby Arrangement (The Daycare Chronicles 3)

He’d do what she wanted, even if he disagreed.

“I’m signing away all rights, Mal. But you asked for my support, which means you get my opinion.” They’d established that from the beginning.

“I know.”

“The second you no longer want that, all you have to do is say so.” It wouldn’t be all bad if she did, he told himself as he made the offer. He’d be completely free of entanglement from the past.

“I want it.”

“So, think about it?”

“Of course.”

Good. Yeah, so, life was all good.

* * *

Morning sickness didn’t happen. Not even as she moved toward her fifth month. But she was tired. Sometimes it was all she could do to get through the workday, make herself a sandwich when she got home and then plop down on the couch.

She’d ordered a second crib, exactly like the one she’d bought.

The girls at work were throwing a shower for her.

Tamara and Flint and Tamara’s parents had already given her a year’s worth of disposable diapers through an open credit account at a local box store.

Tamara had news of her own to share, as well. She and Flint were going to try to have a baby. Her doctor had said there was no reason that she couldn’t try to carry to full term, as long as she was emotionally strong enough to handle it if she miscarried again. With Flint and Diamond Rose there, loving her, Tamara was ready to try.

It was enough to make one believe in happy endings.

Yet as each day passed, Mallory was less and less happy. She wasn’t unhappy. She was deeply, deeply thrilled to be having her babies. Thankful beyond any measure.

She’d made the right choice to have them.

And yet, she lived on the verge of tears. Pregnancy hormones, she was sure. But that wasn’t all of it. Maybe she was more apt to cry because of them, but the source of the tears was real.

She wept for Tucker. For the shortness of his sweet life.

Sometimes she cried out of stark fear. What would she do if she lost either of the two precious beings growing inside of her?

And she cried for Braden and her. She remembered his reaction that day at lunch, when she’d told him he could be on the birth certificates. She’d felt him so acutely. And she’d known. Just clearly, calmly known. Tamara had been right. She was still in love with him.

It didn’t change anything. He wasn’t good for her and she made him a tense mess, too. The sadness of that weighed heavily on her. She carried it with her every second of every day. And she worried that she was going to pass it on to her babies. “A mother’s emotional state as she carries her children has an effect on the unborn children.” She’d read that.

Promising herself she’d work at being calmer, for her babies’ sakes, she focused on the paperwork on her desk. Till the phone rang.

It was her OB. The week after her four-month visit, the week after lunch with Braden, she’d been in the doctor’s office for a standard blood test,

one that could indicate that one or both of her babies had one of several possible genetic disorders, Down syndrome being one of them. And with a few words—“We got a positive”—her life imploded again.

Her first thought was that she’d done it. Something was wrong with her.

She listened while the doctor assured her that they weren’t worried. They’d done another ultrasound during that visit as well and all measurements had been normal. The blood test in question came up with false positives more than any others, the OB assured her. But she’d need to have more in-depth blood work done as soon as possible.

Mallory had to leave work, she was sobbing so hard.

She couldn’t believe it. Just couldn’t believe it.

In her car, she drove around the corner from the business complex and then stopped. She shouldn’t drive in her condition but she had to get to the doctor’s office. They had an opening at their on-site lab that afternoon and she’d taken it. She had to know.