Hannah gaped at him. "That-that's very generous of you, but I can't accept so much."
"Money is the last thing I'm short of. Why won't you take it?"
"Because … "
Because she'd always prided herself on being the breadwinner, and she found it hard to lean on others. Because after Rick she was cautious about relying on another person. She thought about what Derek had accused her of the other day, that she sacrificed herself for others as an excuse not to live her own life. Maybe there was a grain of truth in that. Maybe she should throw caution to the winds.
"Maybe I will take you up on that offer."
Derek perked up, clearly surprised. "Yeah?"
"Although you might regret it. I saw the cutest giraffe onesie the other day but the price tag made my eyes water."
"I have no idea what a giraffe onesie is, but you can get whatever you want."
He meant every word, she saw, and his deep sincerity brought tears to her eyes without warning. "That-that's very generous," she sniffed.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He leaned closer in concern.
"Oh, it's nothing." She wiped away the tears. "Pregnancy really messes with the hormones."
Derek nodded solemnly. "Yeah, I've been reading all about it."
"You have?"
"Don't look so surprised. I've already finished What to Expect When You're Expecting, and From Dude to Dad is next on my list."
"Wow, I'm impressed. Next thing you'll be strapping on one of those fake pregnancy bellies."
His mouth fell open. "Uh, you want me to wear one of those things?"
"You know, some of them give you all the pregnancy symptoms like bladder pressure, back pain, waddling, the whole works."
"Sounds, um, intriguing."
He looked so anxious she couldn't help smiling. "But that's probably going too far."
"Yeah, probably."
"I haven't had time to read any books, but maybe I won't have to, seeing as you're a walking encyclopedia on pregnancy."
He flashed her a smile. "See? I'm not just a pretty face."
Her heart quivered. Derek was so much more than a pretty face, and she might be willing to accept his financial help, but she couldn't allow herself to think beyond those borders.
"Well, pretty face, I appreciate your offer, but for now I'll keep on working."
Derek nodded. "In the meantime, I can at least mow your lawn." He waved a hand at the rampant grass taking over her yard. "It's getting out of control."
"Yeah, I've been meaning to borrow Amber's lawn mower sometime soon."
"Grandpa Otto has a mower. I'll come over tomorrow morning and do it for you."
She opened her mouth to demur but then shut it. Derek was trying to help any way he could, and she ought to be glad of that. "Thank you," she murmured. The trick was not to let herself become too dependent on Derek. She could let him mow her lawn and buy her baby onesies, but she couldn't allow herself to rely too much on him.
Luckily, the pizza arrived. They returned to the back porch with their food, where the smell of spicy sausage lingered in the warm evening air. She was glad not to be eating alone. If she were honest, she was even gladder it was Derek keeping her company.
A familiar growl came from the nearby bushes, followed by a gray-and-white shape slinking out.
"It's O'Malley," she said.
"O'Malley?"
"Yeah, you know, Thomas O'Malley, the alley cat from The Aristocats. He often turns up at dinnertime." She tossed a piece of pepperoni at the cat and watched as he gobbled it up.
"So you've adopted him?" Derek said as he copied her and fed the cat another piece of meat.
"I think he's adopted me."
"Do you know about cats and toxoplasmosis?" he asked, looking serious again.
She was aware of the risks to pregnant women, but Derek looked so eager to impart his knowledge that she shook her head. "I think I've forgotten. Remind me again?"
She settled back with her pizza slice as Derek diligently proceeded to tell her everything he'd read. If only life could remain as simple as this-pizza on a summer night with a pet cat and a gorgeous man. Soon, life would get much more complicated, but for now she could enjoy this moment.
The following morning the good feelings had disappeared. A fog of morning sickness hung over her, torturing her stomach and filling her head with a dull haze. The only good thing was that she didn't have to go to work until the afternoon, and usually the nausea lifted before then. As the early morning sun shone mockingly at her, she stumbled to the bathroom, hung her head over the toilet, and heaved for several excruciating minutes until the worst of the attack was over. Then she meandered back to her room and collapsed into bed.
Sometime later, the faint buzz of an engine roused her from her lethargy. She lifted her head from the pillow long enough to check that it was Derek outside, pushing a lawn mower over the thick clumps of grass in her front yard, before she sank back down. The monotonous noise was somehow comforting, as was the thought that Derek was just outside, close at hand. She didn't feel quite so wretched, knowing he was there, and after a while she felt strong enough to get up and pull on some sweatpants and a T-shirt.
By now the drone of the lawn mower was coming from the rear yard, so she drifted to the kitchen and opened the back door. The sight of Derek in shorts and a T-shirt, manly arms pushing the mower, was almost enough to make her forget her nausea. For a moment she wondered if any of her neighbors had seen him-surely one of them would recognize him from his TV show?-but it was too late now, and besides, for all intents and purposes he was just a family friend doing her a favor. Nothing to gossip about, really. He caught sight of her, waved, and continued on until he reached the edge of the grass, where he turned off the engine and walked back to her.
"Did I wake you?" he asked, eyeing her hair, which was standing every which way.
"Not really." She'd had to get up anyway. "Do you want a coffee or a soda?"
"A soda would be good."
He stepped up to the back porch, bringing with him the scent of freshly cut grass. Her nose wrinkled as a different smell drifted over from the neighboring house-bacon and hash browns. It was only faint, but one whiff of the hot, greasy odor was enough to churn her insides.
"Ugh." She made a gagging noise.
Derek halted in front of her. "Uh, do I stink that bad?"
"No, it's the-" She flapped a hand at the stench that was thickening in her nostrils.
Her stomach knotted ominously, her throat tightened, and the back of her mouth began to fill with saliva, a sure sign that a trip to the bathroom was necessary.
"Oh God," she muttered. She lurched out of the kitchen and down the short hall to her tiny bathroom, where she bent double over the toilet. She heard Derek walk up behind her, then his legs appeared in her vision, and her humiliation was complete. He didn't speak, just waited patiently until she was done. Finally, when her insides felt like a pretzel, she straightened up and pressed the flush button. She rinsed herself at the basin, and when she turned around found Derek offering her a towel, which she gratefully accepted.
"Sorry about that." She buried her face in the towel so she didn't have to look at Derek.
"You should lie down for a while."
He led her back to her room, where he straightened the sheets and fluffed up the pillows before helping her back into bed. As she lay against the pillows, she glanced up to find his steady blue eyes trained on her, concern frank in them.
"What can I get you?" he asked, leaning over her.
She licked lips that felt cracked and dry. What a mess she must look to him. "Derek, you don't-"
"Water? Crackers?" There was a determination in him that wouldn't be denied.
"Ginger tea helps. There's a jug of it in the fridge."
He nodded and disappeared, returning some minutes later with a tray. He'd brought ginger tea, water, and crackers. He handed her the tea, then set the bottle of water and plate of crackers on the nightstand within easy reach.
"Do you have to work today?" he asked.
"The evening shift. Three p.m. to eleven thirty."
He pressed his hand against the sheet as if he wanted to keep her there. "Get some rest. I'll finish the lawn later."
"No, keep going. I like … the sound." She'd almost told him the truth, that she liked having him there.
He gazed at her again, and his hand moved toward her face, but just before his fingers touched her cheek, he withdrew his hand and straightened up. He walked out, and moments later she heard the mower starting up again. She closed her eyes but couldn't get rid of the image of Derek leaning over her, looking so concerned about her. It would be so easy to sink into that well of compassion, to let him take care of her. But she couldn't afford that kind of weakness. Accepting financial help was one thing, but if she let Derek in emotionally, she might fall in love with him, and if she leaned too much on him, he might start to feel suffocated, he might find fatherhood too much to handle. And if he left, she'd have too many broken pieces to pick up. Better to be safe than sorry.