"Maybe it's not so much concern," he said, resting his forehead against hers. "Maybe I just want to be with you."
She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. "Oh?"
"Yeah."
"You find me that entertaining, do you?"
"Hell yeah," he said with that mischievously crooked grin that sent her insides quivering.
"Well, don't plan on being too entertained. That might get us into trouble. The doctor hasn't cleared me for everything yet."
Brooks released an exaggerated, long-suffering sigh that brought a smile to her lips.
"Good point. Still, it would be easier on you if they brought the baby to us."
She patted his cheek. "If that makes you feel better, I'll tell her." She took a second to shoot off another text to Kiersten and then gathered up her things. She slung her bag over her shoulder, leaving several bags for him to carry. "But if you're going to be there, you have to actually help."
He draped two bags over each shoulder. "I don't think I mentioned anything about helping."
"Hey, you're the one insisting being there. You're not just going to sit and watch me do all the work."
"Well, yeah, but … "
"Actually, this might be a great idea," Leah said, enjoying watching him squirm. "Babies are a lot of work, and you're the one who wants me to take it easy, so maybe you could take care of her and I'll watch you."
"Wait," he said, hot on her heels.
"Oh, no worries. You'll do fine. Babies are easy. You just have to make sure she's fed, changed, and burped, and that she gets her naps, is kept clean, and that she doesn't roll off or under anything. She's not crawling yet so that's not a problem. Of course, babies poop a lot, but I'm sure you'll handle that fine."
"Wait, did you say poop?" He hurried after her, but every time he got in her path she moved around him, trying and failing to keep the smile from her face.
"Leah, I heard poop. There's going to be poop? I think I've changed my mind."
Her phone dinged and she looked down at the message, her grin widening. "Sorry, too late. I already told her to bring the baby over and that you're helping out. She loves the idea. Thinks it'll be good for you. Said you used to work wonders with barnyard animals. You're going to have to tell me about that sometime."
He scowled. "There was an incident with a cow that I've vowed never to speak of again."
Leah stopped in her tracks and Brooks bumped into her, doing a little hopping dance to keep from running over her without dropping all the bags.
"A cow?" she asked. "Kiersten needs to spill the beans on that one if you won't."
She started walking again, leaving Brooks still fumbling with the bags. He caught up quickly enough. "I think I just remembered I have to do something that night."
"Not a problem, you can cancel it."
She marched off to the car, laughing while Brooks scurried behind her, coming up with one excuse after another. There was no way she was letting him off the hook after he insisted on being there.
Oh, this was going to be fun.
Leah pushed aside the stack of essays she was supposed to be grading and went back to staring at the screen with the cursor blinking at her. She had no idea what else she could say. She'd been sending regular messages to Marcus, using the Facebook messages almost as a pregnancy journal. She hadn't wanted to tell him over the computer like that, but since she couldn't get ahold of him and her belly wasn't getting any smaller, she didn't want to blindside him after the baby was born.
So she finally broke the news and then had begun keeping him updated. Every time she went to an appointment she'd send a message saying how it went. She'd uploaded photos of the sonograms, even a clip of the baby's heartbeat that Brooks had recorded. She had gone back and forth on whether she should tell Marcus about Brooks. It seemed wrong not to, so she'd finally mentioned that she was married now. Of course, she hadn't gone much further than that and she certainly hadn't told him the real circumstances of their marriage. She did tell him Brooks's name, though. He had a right to know who the stepfather of his child was, even if the marriage wouldn't last much longer.
Mostly, she just stuck to the baby. But she couldn't go on sending him Facebook messages forever. She'd stop once the baby was born. He could get ahold of her if he wanted to after that.
She sent the message off and sat back, her hands cradling her belly.
"Still no response?" Brooks came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.
She sat back and shook her head. "No, but I don't know what else I can try."
He leaned in closer, looking at the image on the screen. His hands tightened on her shoulders. "Wait … is that the father? Marcus Cassidy?"
"Yes. Do you know him?" she asked.
When he didn't answer right away she glanced up to see him glaring at Marcus's profile picture, his jaw clenched. She shifted under the pressure of his fingers and he snapped out of it, easing his grip.
"Sorry. Yes, I know him. Knew him. A long time ago. We went to college together."
"And?"
He shrugged. "It was several years ago."
"It doesn't seem like knowing him was a good thing."
He gave her a half smile. "When you have two roosters in a hen house a few feathers are going to fly."
She laughed. "Where did you hear an expression like that?"
His grin was more genuine this time. "I picked up a couple good ones on the last poker retreat Kiersten planned for us. Which is why she's no longer allowed to plan our retreats, by the way."
"I really need to get some details from her one of these days."
Brooks ignored that and went back to semi-glaring at the computer. "Have you considered the possibility that he's read the messages but has chosen not to respond?"
"Yes." That didn't really answer her question, though maybe it did. Brooks didn't seem to think much of Marcus. And though the thought probably should hurt, it didn't. It might even be a relief if he didn't want anything to do with the baby. It would at least make things less complicated.
She sighed. "But there's no icon. See," she said, pointing to the screen. "A little check mark appears when the message has been delivered and when the person has read the message their profile picture appears in a little bubble next to it. So as far as I can tell he hasn't seen these yet. But I don't have any other way to communicate with him. His whole account is set to private. It won't allow anyone to post on the wall, only send messages. I can't even see his friends list to try and contact him through them."
"Do you want me to try and find him?" Brooks asked quietly.
"Will you?" She turned to look at him but couldn't read what he might be thinking. His face was a total blank. "You would do that?"
"If you asked me to."
She hesitated. She didn't want to hurt Brooks and she had a feeling if she said she wanted his help in finding Marcus that it would hurt him. But at the same time, Brooks wasn't always going to be there and Marcus was the baby's father. He did have every right to know. Once he knew, they could deal with it then. But Leah wanted to make sure she did what she could to let him know that he had a child.
"If you think you might be able to help, that would be great," she said.
Brooks nodded and looked at the screen. "Is this all the information you have on him?"
"Yeah," she said, trying to stamp down the familiar rush of embarrassment that she'd had a one-night stand with a man she'd never met and had no intention of seeing again.
There was no judgment on Brooks's face. "I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you."
He gave her a small smile and kissed her on the forehead and then left the room.
Leah sighed and put her hands on her belly. "I don't know what to do, little peanut," she said. "The father you have doesn't know you exist and the father I want you to have … "
She stopped, not realizing until the moment she said it out loud how true the words were. She glanced back at the door through which Brooks had disappeared. "The father I want you to have is probably better off without us," she whispered.
Brooks had seemed happy over the last few months, but there was no denying she was cramping his lifestyle. She still felt more like a guest in his apartment than someone in her own home. Despite a few feminine touches here and there, the place was most definitely a bachelor pad. The furniture was stark and cold, all steel and leather and glass; not an environment you wanted a baby learning how to walk in. And while people raised babies in the city every day, Leah had always envisioned raising her child in a less hectic environment.
At the school, at least, they were on the outskirts and behind the stone walls with all its gardens and quiet corridors. The world would have been a bit smaller. Ideally, she wanted the whole white picket fence thing. It was a clichéd dream, but she couldn't help envisioning her little one running around on the back lawn, maybe playing on a swing set, learning to ride a bike on a quiet cul-de-sac, playing with friends in the summer. Leah was fairly sure she'd be a nervous wreck raising her baby on the busy streets of New York City. She would do what she needed to, of course. Even though she wouldn't stay there forever, she knew she was more fortunate than most of the world's population. So while it wasn't exactly what she dreamed of, she would be grateful for every moment she spent there. With him.