Have Baby, Need Beau (10 page)

No, she and Seth were completely wrong for each other.

Chapter 9

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S
eth buried himself in work the next week and staunchly avoided Mimi. He couldn’t believe what a fool he’d been, barging in and demanding she talk to him. Especially after the things she’d said about him to her father.

But all week reminders of Mimi jumped out at him, grinding his nose in the memory of that one wild night together. Her scent lingered in his car as if the leather seats had absorbed her potent perfume permanently. And apparently Mimi, or her father, had devised an advertising stunt to boost business at her café. He’d seen a white customized van cruising the streets sporting a huge chocolate cake twirling on top, red streaks representing raspberry sauce running down the sides, an intercom blasting an invitation to visit the Sugar Hill Café.

He hadn’t gone near the place.

But today be was going to see her anyway.

He adjusted his burgundy tie and combed his hair, reminding himself his evening would be spent leading the first support group for single parents, not enjoying a date with Mimi. But after four days without seeing her he… He’d what? He was going crazy?

How could that possibly be when he knew as well as she did how ill-suited they were? He was simply worried about her health. Once he knew for certain their erotic night hadn’t resulted in a pregnancy, he could rest easily and extricate her from his mind.

A few minutes later he hurried to greet Mimi at the community center, but when he arrived, she’d already arranged the tables.

He walked up behind her, admiring the view as she set out the refreshments. “Hi. It looks like you have things under control.”

Mimi jumped and spun around, her eyes big and sparkling. “Hi. Yes, I think we’re all set.”

“The food looks great.” He gestured toward the strawberry shortcake and the mudslinger chocolate pie. She’d also brought a tray filled with a mixture of cookies and a coffee cake that smelled of cinnamon and apples. “My stomach’s rumbling already.”

“The coffee should be ready soon. I also made a fruit punch and brought sodas.”

“You thought of everything.”

She nodded. He had slept with this woman, had seen and touched and tasted every delicious inch of her. Yet now they’d resorted to chitchat.

He started to comment, but the room suddenly filled with parents. Relief flooded Mimi’s eyes, and he vowed to corner her later and find out if she’d suffered from any more bouts of food poisoning.

* * *

Mimi watched Seth mingle with the group of single parents, introducing the various attendees, his large hands moving as he spoke, his deep voice titillating. Just the way it had been when he’d called her name in the throes of passion.

Darn it, why couldn’t she go back to seeing him the way she had before? As boring old Seth, the shrink, not sexy Seth, the man who’d made love to her so tenderly she’d nearly wept. Seth, the father of her baby.

The man she wanted to hold her all night long.

Her hand automatically covered her still-flat stomach, and she swallowed, wishing she could gain the courage to tell him. And Hannah and her father. But so far, she’d barely been able to accept the news herself.

She sliced the chocolate cake, her stomach twisting again as it did so often these days, her hand trembling as she fought the nausea. She’d opted for no medicine, concerned that it might affect the baby, but if her queasy stomach didn’t settle soon, she’d be forced to contact Hannah. She couldn’t continue existing on crackers. It couldn’t be good for her—or the baby.

Mimi took her place behind the table to serve while everyone lined up for refreshments. Her stomach roiled again, her nerves teaming up with her condition, making things worse. She fought off the feeling, grateful when the last person accepted a plate.

“I know it’s hard on Wilfred to be without his father,” one of the mothers said. “But what can I do? He ran off three months ago and I don’t have a clue where he is.”

“My boyfriend skipped out the minute I told him I was pregnant,” another young woman commented. “The big chicken didn’t want the responsibility.”

Mimi stood on the periphery of the group, tempted to join in. To ask them about single parenting. Yet she couldn’t, not with Seth watching.

“I’m glad my old man’s not around,” a tall lady wearing a hot-pink suit said. “He drinks so much he’d be a bad influence on my kids.”

But Seth would be a good influence. He’d make a great father, especially if he loosened up a bit.

“My wife is the worst mother,” a slender man who looked to be in his thirties complained. “She’s too busy with her job for the kids. That’s the reason I divorced her.”

“Do they live with her?”

“We’re in the middle of a custody battle now.”

Mimi lapsed into thought as she set out the coffee condiments. She would have to make a decision about her career—would she be able to pursue acting now or should she get a real job, something steadier than managing the café? Her own mother had callously deserted her and her sisters to pursue her own dreams. Could Mimi do the same?

No. But if she didn’t pursue acting, what else could she do? Go back to school?

Memories of her childhood floated back. When their mother left, Wiley had picked up the pieces and raised them by himself. Their dad had been the world to them. Could she deny her own baby its father?

But your baby won’t be like you—it’ll have a mother
, she argued silently.

Even if you land the part on that soap, if your acting career takes off what will you do with an infant while you travel?

Seth’s voice jarred her from her troubled thoughts. “Listen, folks, why don’t we all sit down.”

Everyone obeyed, hushed murmurs filtering around the room. Seth began the session with a discussion of common problems single parents faced. “Several of you have said that you feel alone. I thought it would be good for you to meet and offer support to one another. I suggest you use this time to form friendships, maybe you can even trade advice, what’s working and not working, discuss day-care issues.”

The session seemed to be successful, enthusiasm growing as the individuals shared. Mimi watched with a mixture of admiration and trepidation. Her respect for Seth’s professionalism grew, her earlier skepticism about him being a shrink dissipating as she realized the importance of his work. Her respect for her father also rose, while her own insecurities over parenting escalated. Would she sit in a group like this someday, asking strangers for parenting advice because of her single-parent status?

The mere thought sent a sick feeling climbing up her throat. Several people had discarded their dirty plates in the trash, and the smells of chocolate frosting, strawberries and pineapple punch only added to the nausea. It hit her fast and unrelentlessly. She covered her mouth and raced from the room, praying she’d make it to the ladies’ room in time. She only hoped Seth hadn’t seen her.

* * *

Seth ended the session and said goodbye to his patients as quickly as humanly possible, but Mrs. Flat and her husband, Ralph, had lingered. He’d realized the two of them had some issues, along with an underlying affection for each other, so he’d spent an extra few minutes setting up a couples’ session with them. They just might salvage their marriage yet, if both of them could simply let go of their stubborn pride. He’d certainly forgotten his own pride tonight and had found himself constantly looking at Mimi.

Now he was worried about her. He’d seen her beautiful smile fade and her rosy cheeks grow pale, no
green
, and his own stomach had convulsed. She’d disappeared over half an hour before. He was damned tired of waiting for her.

He stalked to the ladies’ room, listened at the door, heard silence and knocked gently. No reply.

She had to be in there. She still had her catering supplies to collect. He knocked again and thought he heard a faint voice, so he pushed the door open. “Mimi?”

“Seth?”

“Yeah. Are you all right?”

“Go away.”

Her weak voice sent alarm shooting up his spine. He slowly eased himself in the sitting area, not wanting to intrude on her privacy, yet desperate to know she was okay. “Mimi, where are you?”

A sniffle sounded from the washroom connected to the vanity area. “I said go away.”

“I’m not leaving until you come out.”

“I can’t come out right now,” she said in a miserable voice.

“Why not?”

“I… Just go away. I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

“No.”

“Seth, please leave.”

Obviously she meant the statement as a warning, but her voice sounded weak, as if she needed help. He slowly moved through the opening that served as a doorway from the sitting room to the washroom section and spotted Mimi’s black heels peeking from the last stall. She was sitting on the floor, her legs tucked beneath her. Alarm bells clanged in his head again, and he pushed open the door.

“Seth, please…”

She had one arm draped over the toilet seat, her head drooping pathetically, her face a ghostly white. His heart clutched and he capitulated into motion. Seconds later, he returned with a cool wet cloth and pressed it to her neck, then gently wiped her face and forehead.

“Seth, please just go…”

“Shh.” He pressed the cloth to her forehead. She murmured thanks in a weak voice.

“Food poisoning again, huh?”

Her whole body stiffened. With a pitiful sigh, she dropped her head over her arms again as if to avoid answering him. Worry and fear and … a little trickle of something that felt like excitement, seeped into him. He knew the answer. Somehow he’d known all along.

“Are you going to be sick again? Should I call a doctor?”

She shook her head. “You’re sure?”

She nodded.

“All right. Then I’m going to lift you and take you to the sofa in the sitting area.”

She sniffled again and he realized she was crying, so he slid his arms beneath her and lifted her against his chest. She turned her head into him, draping one limp arm around his neck and whispering something that sounded like a protest. The misery in her face tore at him. He took charge, determined to care for her no matter how much she protested.

He gently lay her on the velvety cushions and propped her head on a pillow. Her hair had escaped the pins she’d used to secure it and curled around her face, making her look young and vulnerable. He wanted to hold her and promise her everything would be all right. But the memory of her conversation with her father still haunted him.

“Do you want me to get Hannah?”

She shook her head and looked at him. Her eyes were big, luminous, filled with tears and worry and regret. “I’m s-sorry.”

He smiled and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “For what?”

“For—” she gestured toward her prone state “—for this.”

His throat grew thick. “You don’t have to apologize for being sick.” For God’s sake, she’d gotten sick because she was carrying his baby.

She bit down on her lip and stared at the ceiling tiles as if she might see an answer written there. He rubbed her chin with his thumb and turned her face to his, forcing her to look at him. “When were you going to tell me?”

Her mouth tightened.

“Were you ever?”

“I…”

“Don’t lie to me again, Mimi.”

His voice sounded harsher than he’d intended, and he started to apologize when she spoke up. “Hannah thinks the … baby is Joey’s.”

The air whooshed from his lungs. “She what?”

“I did a test and it was negative, but then I got sick, and Hannah insisted on doing the test, and I couldn’t think of a way out of it, and she told me the test was positive, and she assumed—”

“That the baby,
our
baby, belongs to Joey?”

She nodded.

“And you didn’t correct her?”

Her eyes turned grave. “No, I didn’t think … you’d want her to know.”

“You mean
you
didn’t want her to know you’d been with me.” Hurt, however irrational, welled in his chest.

She shook her head, her chin quivering. A lone tear spilled down her cheek. “I didn’t want it to be true.”

Her words cut right through him. She didn’t want to have his baby. Of course she wouldn’t—she didn’t even think he was all that attractive. Why would she want to be tied to him or have his child? Probably afraid she’d have some boring, stodgy little boy who resembled him…

He stood and turned away from her, his spine stiff, afraid if she saw his face, she’d read the emotion in his eyes, emotion he’d never felt before and certainly didn’t know how to deal with now.

Mimi saw Seth turn away and knew he was hiding his feelings. He was angry with her for not telling him the truth. Was he angry she’d gotten pregnant? Angry he’d be tied to her because of a child he didn’t want?

“Seth, I know you didn’t want kids. And I … I don’t expect anything from you.”

He whirled around. “You don’t expect anything?”

“No. I mean, I’d never try to trap you—”

“You’re having my child. Whether you like it or not, Mimi, that baby connects us.”

She heard the bitterness in his voice, and a fresh ache seized her. “But it doesn’t have to. You don’t have to be involved.”

“You think I’d shirk my responsibilities, that I’m the kind of man who’d run out on his child like husbands and boyfriends of the women who were here tonight.”

No, she didn’t. Seth would assume responsibility—he was that kind of man. But she wanted more out of a relationship. Not that he was offering one; he might simply be referring to child support. “I know you’re responsible, Seth. I just don’t want you thinking I trapped you. That’s what happened to my parents, and look how it turned out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“My mom and dad. They only got married because Mom was pregnant with Hannah.” Good grief, she realized in horror. Seth had never mentioned marriage. She certainly didn’t want him to think
she
wanted it. Besides, Hannah had been with Seth first—another reminder of the reason they shouldn’t be in this situation.