A Billionaire for Christmas
Peyton laughed. “That’s backward. The engagement ring is the one with diamonds on it. The wedding ring is usually a gold band that slips underneath it or has smaller diamonds.”
Raji threw her hands in the air. “How does that make any sense at all? The wedding is the big thing, the legal and religious thing, yet it gets the smaller ring?
He laughed again. “Maybe it symbolizes that men make big promises with the good ring and then under-deliver once the women are locked down for the rest of their lives.”
Raji’s jaw dropped. “That’s awful! You are so bad!”
“Hey, I didn’t start the tradition. Isn’t that how it works in Indian weddings?”
“No. First of all, it’s a necklace, not a ring. The bride’s family gives all the wedding jewelry because the bride symbolizes the goddess Lakshmi, the goddess of beauty, prosperity, and good fortune.”
Peyton bonked himself on the forehead. “Then you should have given me a necklace? The Cabots didn’t keep their wealth by giving away jewelry when it’s not expected.”
“Don’t get all excited, Peyton Cabot of the Connecticut Old Money Cabots. First of all, boys don’t get necklaces. More importantly, I’m a cardiothoracic surgeon. I am the gold and jewels.”
He wrapped his arms around her. “I think you must be the goddess of good fortune because I am the luckiest man in the world.”
A slice of pain lanced across her stomach. “Ow.”
“Are you all right? Is everything all right?”
“Baby kicked my liver or something.” More pain, longer, harder. “Ow!”
“Raji?” Peyton was holding her and scanning her face. “Are you all right?”
“Braxton-Hicks contractions, probably, from stress. Or dehydration. Or something.”
“You’re the doctor. You should know.” He hadn’t stopped watching her, though.
She lay down on the bed on her left side, panting, while Peyton held her hand.
Nothing for twenty minutes. The baby kangaroo she was growing in there stopped kicking the shit out of her.
Raji eased herself up. “Okay, I’m better now.”
“Let’s get a marriage license.”
She held her hand over her aching stomach. “Now?”
“It’s almost noon. We just have to go down to a county clerk’s office and pick it up. Let’s go, right now. We can find someone to marry us today.” His hand spread over her stomach. “I know it’s old-fashioned. I know it’s probably chauvinistic or not progressive or indicative of my privilege, but I want you to be my wife when this baby is born.”
“We can’t tell my mother where we’re going,” Raji said. “She thinks we’re already married.”
Peyton kissed her, a slow, gentle kiss. “Whatever it takes.”
“Are we really doing this?” she asked.
“Getting married and having a baby?” He stroked her stomach. “I would say it looks like we’re doing that sooner rather than later.”
“Yeah,” Raji said. She had daydreamed about making a life with Peyton and this little half-lizard baby so often that it felt like she had stepped out of a nightmare and back into real life. “First, I have a phone call to make and an airplane flight to cancel.”Chapter Forty-FiveTwo Phone CallsRaji canceled her plane reservation first because that was easy.
Then she opened up the video calling app on her computer and called India.
Aarthi answered the video call, her face huge on the screen until she moved back from the webcam. “Raji! Are you leaving for the airport? I am so excited to be seeing you here!”
Raji had propped her tablet up on a bunch of pillows so that the webcam could see just her face. “Aarthi, honey, we need to talk. I’m so sorry.”
Aarthi’s eyes expanded, and Raji heard her gasp. “Are you all right? Is the baby okay?”
“Everybody’s okay. I’m fine, and the baby is fine, too.”
Cardiothoracic surgeons get a lot of practice in breaking bad news to people. Raji fell back on her bedside manner guidelines. Her inner lizard shut off her emotions so that she could speak.
Raji said, “I’m sorry, but there’s been a development.”
Bedside manner guidelines state that doctors should strive to be kind, compassionate, and honest, but they should also be direct, succinct, and without room for bargaining or negotiation.
Rip that bandage right off, even while you’re commiserating that the bandage had to be ripped.
“I’m not going to be able to place the baby for adoption at all,” Raji said, keeping her voice calm. “The father has returned to the picture, and we’re going to be married. We’re going to raise the child as our own. I’m very, very sorry that I got your hopes up, and I know that you’ll make a wonderful mother someday to some other child.”
Aarthi cried but said that she understood.
Luckily, Raji’s aunt Lalitha went over to Aarthi’s house right away to help her through it because that’s what big Indian families do.Chapter Forty-SixStress ContractionsPeyton drove Raji’s pale silver Honda sedan out of the underground parking garage. When they had left her apartment, he had put that silly Santa hat back on his head.