“So, your students did these?”
She’d stopped at a three-dimensional, digitally printed plastic dollhouse.
“Last semester. The top grades from all of my classes. I display them for the following semester, use them actually, as teaching tools when I’m introducing concepts, and then the students get them back.”
She’d stopped at the poster-board-sized colored pencil drawing showing exponential math through pictures. A big bear with three little bears to show the concept of something cubed. There were thirty drawings in all. The bottom one showed an entire equation complete with solution through children’s pictures.
“This was a math education class, geared for art students who want to teach middle schoolers,” he said. He was standing close to point out a couple of the students’ impressive highlights and caught a sniff of... Something flowery. Deliciously so. And stepped back. Quickly. The arm that he’d had outstretched to point to a part of the drawing brushed against her breast in his haste.
His brain froze. Did he apologize? Draw attention to the flame she seemed to ignite within him? Or pretend it hadn’t happened, that it was no big deal?
“What’s this one?” She’d moved on to an abstract piece and he had to struggle to come up with the mathematical concept found within it. Throughout it.
His blunder was no big deal. He had to see that his reaction to her stayed that way.
No big deal.
Chapter Twelve
She had herself in check. Had almost forgotten her core purpose when she’d leaned in a little too close to Jamie as he was showing her math in abstract art and he’d brushed against her, but she’d moved away. Moved on. Kept her mind on the job at hand.
Giving Jamie and his unborn child exposure to each other, helping them build the bond that would last them a lifetime and beyond.
It didn’t take a lot of effort. No heavy conversation or soul-searching required. Just being physically present with her belly in his space. She helped him hang and display all of the artwork on his shelf in less than half an hour.
“Wow, thanks,” he said, standing back with her to view the results. “Seriously, this would have taken me a couple of hours or more, and the results would not have been so aesthetically pleasing,” he said.
She chuckled at his self-deprecatory tone. “Aesthetically pleasing?” she asked. “Doesn’t sound like a Dr. Howe comment.”
He’d been grinning, too, but his expression sobered at her words. “Emily said it a lot,” he said, his mood noticeably changed. Subtly. But still noticeable. It was like a fan had been turned off. Leaving the air in the room stale.
Going to the desk at the front of the room, he gathered tape and nails, a hammer and some tacks together and locked them in a file cabinet in the corner.
“It’s okay to talk about her, you know. In fact, I think it’s best if you do.” It’s what she would tell any couple in her office, facing their situation. Along with telling him to seek counseling, except that she knew he’d already done so.
As had she. Before she’d signed on to be his surrogate. And she’d go back if she ever came up against a struggle she couldn’t handle.
Half sitting on the corner of one of the student desks in the front row, Christine folded her arms and let him see the compassion she felt for him. As she did with most of her clients. Her compassion was what she had to give.
He faced her, his bottom half mostly hidden behind his desk. The light seemed to have dimmed in his expression and she wished life had been kinder to him.
Reminded herself that it was about to get much better, but harder, too, as he faced the challenges involved in raising a child alone.
He straightened. Nodded. Put his hands on his desk in front of him. Like he was ready to make a point.
“I’m struggling a bit here, unexpectedly,” he said, looking her right in the eye. As though trying to impart a particular message. “I think it’s only fair, given the unusual circumstances between us, that you know.”
She nodded, too. “Yes. That’s good. Talk it out. We knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Only that for you it would be worth it.” A thought occurred to her, along with a stab of horror that left as quickly as it came. Still... “You do still feel that way, don’t you? That it’s worth it? You want this baby, right?”
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If not, there’d be a family that did, she reminded herself. Lists of couples with loving homes, waiting to fill them with children, were miles long.
The instant sense of protectiveness that had come over her regarding the baby inside her was not altogether new. But it was a not quite welcome regurgitation of days long past. If he didn’t want the baby, could she think about keeping it?
Could she make herself give up a second child to strangers?
“Of course I want my baby!” Jamie’s stern, wide-eyed expression, his commanding tone left her in no doubt as to the truth of his words. “I admit to experiencing some unexpected emotional ups and downs here, but none of them, not a single one, have anything to do with wanting that baby. I did. I do. I always will.”