One More Chance (Rosemary Beach 8)

Since we don’t know if you’re a boy or a girl yet, I decided that I had better buy an outfit for each scenario. If you’re a girl, then you wore the soft pink gown with the white trim and matching bonnet home from the hospital. And if you’re a boy, you wore the sea-blue romper with the baseball and bat on the front. I bought both of those outfits today, just in case.

I probably could have waited until I knew what you would be, but I was too excited. Seeing all those little outfits and feeling the soft fabric had me imagining you and daydreaming about the day I would get to hold you.

I expect I will get to do a lot of that, since you’ll be sleeping in our room. I’m already planning on where I’ll put your crib. I think you’ll like a view of the water. Maybe we can make that work.

It really doesn’t matter where you sleep, because no matter where it is, you will always be safe, cherished, and loved.

Love you always,

Mommy

Harlow

Grant was anxious. I had never seen him like this. He kept watching me nervously and smiling like he had something big he wanted to tell me. It was completely odd behavior for him.

It was distracting me that I wasn’t the one acting like a nervous ninny this time. When we had listened to the baby’s heartbeat the first time, I barely had been able to contain myself that day before the appointment. But this day, the day we finally got to see our baby and find out if it was a boy or a girl, it was Grant who couldn’t sit still.

I had gone through an ultrasound before, but it wasn’t one like this one. The first one had been very basic, so they could see the baby and hear the heartbeat internally. This time, it would be a 3-D machine that would allow us to actually see the baby’s facial features. The nurse walked into the small room where we were waiting, followed by the doctor.

“You two ready?” he asked with a bright smile on his face.

“Yes,” I replied, but Grant didn’t say anything. He seemed tense. I reached up and rubbed his arm to try to ease his strained expression. This wasn’t going to hurt me or the baby.

“Good, let’s see if we can find out what we’re having here,” the doctor said as he sat down on a stool. “Normally, the nurse does this, but I want to check some things while you’re here. I brought her along in case I forget something,” he explained.

I turned my attention back to Grant, whose complete focus was on the currently blank screen.

“You OK?” I asked. He dropped his gaze to mine.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” he asked, suddenly realizing he hadn’t checked on me in the past few minutes while we were waiting. He was more than overprotective. Since my belly had started to show, he had gotten a little crazy with the hovering thing.

The doctor moved the device over my stomach and nodded his head toward the screen. “Here we go,” he said as an image of our baby began to appear.

Grant’s hand gripped mine tighter as the screen very clearly showed two little feet stuck up in the air.

I couldn’t form words as the doctor chuckled. “Well, that was easy to spot. She’s making it very easy.”

She.

That one word was more powerful than I could have imagined.

She.

I sniffled and blinked rapidly, trying hard to clear my vision so I could see her.

“Look there, she’s found her fingers, and she likes them. You may have a thumb sucker,” the doctor said as he showed us our little girl sucking three fingers into her mouth.

I was unable to keep the part-laughter, part-sob from escaping.

“And it looks like she has all her fingers and toes. Her heartbeat still sounds really strong,” the doctor assured us. I hadn’t even noticed the sound—I was so taken in by just watching her—but it was there in its perfect, pumping little rhythm.

“Did you feel that?” the doctor asked me.

I didn’t want to look away from the screen. “What?” I asked.

“A strong fluttering feeling . . . there. Did you feel it?”

I had felt it. I had been feeling it for the past couple of weeks. I had thought it was bad gas.

“Yes,” I said, watching as she kicked seconds after I felt the fluttering feeling.

“The 3-D isn’t real time. It’s delayed. So you’re seeing her kick a few seconds after she does it,” the doctor explained.

“When can I feel it?” Grant asked, speaking up for the first time. I tore my eyes from our daughter to see him watching the screen in complete fascination.

“Give it a couple weeks, and you’ll feel it,” the doctor assured Grant.

For the next fifteen minutes, we sat there watching our little girl wiggle and go from sucking her fingers to her thumb. She also liked to stick her foot up to touch her head. She was perfect.

And I had thought I couldn’t love her more. How very wrong I was.

Grant passed the turn-off for home, and I glanced over at him. We had sat in awed silence for most of the drive. Every once in a while, one of us would ask if the other had seen her do something, and then we would fall silent again. I couldn’t wait to write to her about this moment, because this time, I knew she was a she.

“I have something I want to show you,” he said when he caught me staring at him.

“Um, OK,” I replied, not sure what it could be that required him to drive to the outer town limits of Rosemary Beach. Maybe we were going to the club. I really hoped not. I just wanted to go home and think about our little girl.

Grant didn’t turn toward the club but instead pulled into a gated community that I had always noticed from afar but had never been inside. The houses were all beautiful coastal places that I assumed were mostly owned by out-of-towners who came for vacation or rented them out.

Grant touched a card to the black box, and the gate slowly opened. I wondered if he was building something here, although it didn’t look like any new developments were happening, nor did Grant normally deal in single-residence houses.

We rounded a circle on the road paved with split brick, which I thought was really cool. Then he pulled into a driveway in front of a blue house that looked like it belonged on the front cover of Coastal Living magazine.

Were we visiting someone?

“What do you think?” he asked. The nervousness from earlier in the day was back in his voice.

What did I think? “About the house?” I asked.

He nodded.

I didn’t have to look at it again to know I thought it was an ideal house for a family . . . but wait. Surely not. I fought back excitement at the idea that Grant was considering buying this house for us, and I reminded myself that we were perfectly happy in his condo. We didn’t need a house, even if it was as absolutely perfect as this one.

“I think it’s a beautiful place,” I said carefully. I didn’t want him to think I’d gotten my hopes up. It would upset him if he thought I wasn’t happy where we were, and I didn’t want him to be any more stressed.

“You do?” he asked, still studying my every expression.

I nodded.

He opened his truck door and got out. “Let’s go inside,” he said, before closing his door and walking around to help me as I stepped down on my side.

We were going inside? Did that mean he wanted me to see the inside, or were there people in there? I wanted to get excited, but I was afraid to. I wasn’t sure why we were here.

Grant produced a key and opened the door. It swung wide, and he motioned for me to step inside. I walked in slowly. The first thing I noticed was that it was completely empty. The second thing I noticed was that it was breathtaking. The vaulted ceilings and attention to detail were fantastic.

“Come with me,” he said, taking my hand as we headed directly for the stairs. Upstairs, we walked through a large open space that could be a sitting area or even a game room. Then Grant opened one of the doors, and we walked into a large bedroom with pale pink walls and a chandelier. From the windows, you could see the Gulf across the street and the backyard, which was not only a nice big space but also fenced in.

I turned around to see Grant running a hand through his hair nervously and watching me.

“It’s a great room. But I don’t understand,” I said, needing some clarification, even though my excitement was quickly growing.

He glanced down at my stomach, then back up at me. “Would you want this to be her room?”

Her room.

Meaning we would live here.

The waterworks were threatening to take over, and I blinked back tears and sucked in a breath to keep from sobbing on him.

“Is it for sale?” I asked, realizing that I hadn’t seen a for-sale sign in the yard.

“No,” he replied, and my heart sank. “Not anymore.” He held up the keys he’d used to get in. “It’s already ours.”

It took me all of two seconds to fling myself into his arms before I burst into tears.

Grant

We didn’t go back to the apartment that night. I called Rush to help me move the bed over, and we stayed the night in our new house. Harlow was too giddy to leave, and I was too damn happy watching her. I had been afraid she would be overwhelmed or maybe not like it.

But I had worried for nothing.

I felt like the king of the f**king world.

The next week, I had movers come to the condo and help us pack up, because I didn’t want Harlow bending and lifting anything. We slowly moved our things in and got settled into our new home. And that was what it was. I had a home now. A real one. For the first time in my life, I had a real home. A real family. My family.

The weekly doctor visits kept me hopeful, and the fear slowly started to fade. Harlow believed, without a doubt, that she would make it through this, and she was already thinking about the swing set we would pick out for Lila Kate.

We had spent an entire week sitting up searching for baby names on the Internet before we agreed on one. Even if I hadn’t liked the name Lila Kate at the time, I would have learned to love it after hearing Harlow say it when she spoke to her now-round stomach. It still wasn’t very big, but you could definitely tell she was pregnant.

I had expected her to worry over looking fat or to be self-conscious, but she never did, and she never was. She would stand in front of the mirror and look at herself, then smile up at me like this was the best thing in the world. She was going to be a wonderful mother.

Then, one day, while I was putting together the baby’s crib in the master bedroom, I heard Harlow shout from the bathroom, “Grant! Hurry!” A million horrible thoughts ran through my mind, so I was expecting the worst when I found a smiling Harlow soaking in a bubble bath. I took a deep breath and told myself to calm the f**k down. I couldn’t believe something bad was about to happen every time she called for me.

“She’s moving,” Harlow whispered, as if talking might cause her to stop. “Come feel.”

I had been waiting for this. Harlow had felt her daily, but so far, I hadn’t been there at the right time. I knelt down beside the tub, and she took my hand and placed it on her stomach.

“Here, press down just a bit so she’ll push back,” she said softly.

I did as I was told, and sure enough, a gentle little kick was my response. The grin that broke across my face was so damn big it hurt my cheeks. I had a little fighter in there. She was strong like her momma.

“Isn’t that amazing?” Harlow asked as I held my hand against her stomach and felt Lila Kate moving around. I had obviously annoyed her, so now she was pretty active.

“She’s spunky,” I said, and Harlow threw back her head and laughed. Lila Kate kicked again and pushed against me. It was like she wanted to join us. Maybe she heard Harlow laughing and wanted out so she could be a part of this moment.

“Talk to her,” Harlow said.

I had seen Harlow talking to her stomach a lot lately. But I wasn’t sure I could do that. I had seen the ultrasound, and I could feel her. She was real to me, but talking to her seemed difficult. I was putting myself out there to love yet another person I could lose.

“I don’t know what to say,” I told her, hoping that she would drop it.

“Just tell her hello and that you love her. It doesn’t have to be profound. She recognizes your voice now. I’m sure of it. She’ll know you’re talking to her.”

Harlow had a lot of faith in this tiny little baby inside her. I agreed that she reacted to Harlow’s laughter, but I wasn’t sure she actually recognized my voice. It was probably no more than a muffled sound to her right now.

“Please, say something,” Harlow pleaded, and I knew I wasn’t going to get out of this. She wanted me to talk to our daughter, and I couldn’t tell her no.

I cleared my throat and bent closer to Harlow’s stomach. “How you doing in there?” I asked, then glanced up to see a very amused Harlow. “I imagine you’re ready to get out and stretch. Gotta be cramped in that little space you got.” Harlow was still watching me expectantly.

She wanted me to tell our baby I loved her. Saying that aloud would make it real. It would make the fact that I was once again vulnerable to another person real. How could I keep her safe, too? What if I had to do it alone? Closing my eyes, I pushed that thought away. I wouldn’t think about it. I refused to.