“There’s not that much to say,” he told her. “My mom died when I was sixteen. A previously undiagnosed heart condition. What she had isn’t genetic—it was just one of those things.” He hesitated. “My dad had never been the responsible parent. He lasted about six weeks after her death, then took off. I never knew why, but now, looking back, I think it was guilt.”
“About what?”
“How he treated her. She loved him more than I’d ever seen anyone love another person. She lived for him. She was great to Jimmy and me, but he had her heart. Everything changed the second he came home. Her smile was bright, her laughter easier. But he stayed gone a lot and when he wasn’t there, she moved around like a shadow or a ghost. They used to fight about that—about him staying away so much. He wasn’t one to take responsibility. He spent a lot of time hanging out with his friends and other people.”
Other people? “You think he had affairs?”
Dev shrugged. “Maybe. I saw him with someone once, but he said she was the wife of a friend and he was helping her shop for her husband. I was never sure I believed him. After my mother died, I told him I’d never forgive him for killing her.”
Noelle frowned. “You said it was a problem with her heart.”
“It was, but I think she was happy to go because she’d lived her whole life loving someone who wouldn’t love her back. Then he left—abandoned his family.”
Dev was the most logical, practical person she knew. For him to say his mother, in essence, died of a broken heart, shocked her.
Equally difficult for her was the fact that he’d lost both parents within a few weeks of each other. Whatever problems his father might have had, how could he have abandoned his two sons?
“My grandfather moved right into the house,” Dev said. “He was pushing seventy, but that didn’t stop him from doing all the things our dad had never done—like playing ball and coming to school games and stuff. He always had time for me.”
“He loved you,” she said, seeing the truth in Dev’s eyes.
“He was a good man.”
Just like Dev, she thought, knowing she didn’t ever have to worry about him walking out on her child. He was going to be there for both of them, no matter what.
When Dev had been twelve, he’d fallen out of a tree and had broken his arm so badly that part of the bone had stuck through the skin. There’d been enough blood to float a ship and, despite the pain, he hadn’t felt the least bit woozy. But when he and Noelle left the doctor’s office nearly forty minutes later, he had a bad feeling he was seconds from passing out.
They were both laden down with brochures, a couple of books, prescriptions for vitamins, reading lists and notes.
“I have a due date,” she said as she walked beside him down the hallway. “That’s good.”
“Yes, it is.”
“And she said everything is fine, so that makes me happy. It won’t be long until we can hear a heartbeat. That’s exciting.”
“Very.”
He concentrated on his breathing, knowing that passing out now wouldn’t help anyone.
“Of course there’s a lot to think about. I’m going to have to change my diet a little. And get more exercise. I mean I exercise a lot, but it’s casual—not organized. I hadn’t thought of prenatal yoga. I don’t think I’m that bendy, but I could try.”
“Trying would be good.”
There was only the main reception area of the women’s center, then they would be in the parking lot. Despite the summer heat, he couldn’t wait to get outside and away from all this.
“Dev?”
“Yes?”
“Are you as scared as I am?”
He glanced at Noelle and saw terror in her blue eyes. Her mouth trembled and she looked as ready to bolt as he felt.
He stopped and faced her. “Too much information?”
“Oh, yeah. And those diagrams. One of my friends talked about the birthing process as having too many fluids and I have to say, I agree with her.”
Some of his tension eased as he smiled. “You only have to do it,” he said. “I may have to watch.”
“Oh, sure. Because watching is so much worse than passing something the size of a bowling ball through something else the size of a pea.”
His smile turned into a grin. “I’m not ready for this, either. I knew you were pregnant, but until this appointment…” He wasn’t sure how to explain.
“The baby wasn’t real.”
“Right.”
She sighed. “For me, either. It was a concept. Kind of like knowing the holidays are coming, but avoiding malls and shopping. A baby. There’s going to be a real baby. I’m not ready for this. At least you’ve done it before.”
“I haven’t had a baby. Jimmy was six when my mother died and then my grandfather took over. I’m only responsible for the last ten years of life.”
Which had been, Dev acknowledged, a total disaster. If only he’d handled things differently, Jimmy wouldn’t be dead right now.
“So neither of us knows what we’re doing,” she said as she started walking toward the foyer. “I hope no one tells the baby.”
As they walked toward the exit, he spotted a large open kiosk filled with different brochures.
“Maybe they have some information over there,” he said, turning in that direction.
“Or classes,” Noelle said. “We could take a class. That would be great. I helped my mom with Tiffany a lot, but I don’t remember very much of it.”
They each started grabbing brochures. Noelle spotted a clipboard.
“Here’s a parenting seminar for kids of all ages. Oh, look. The baby one’s starting in a couple of weeks. We could take that.”
“Sign me up,” Dev said, wanting to take all of them right now. He could still hear Jimmy yelling at him that he wasn’t his father, and then running out of the house.
Dev had tried, but his best had fallen way short of his brother’s needs. Even after the fact, looking back, he couldn’t figure out where he’d gone so wrong. He was determined not to repeat those mistakes with Noelle’s baby, but if he didn’t know what they were, how could he avoid them?
They left the center and headed toward the parking lot. Ten feet from Dev’s car, Noelle came to a stop and looked at him.
“I can’t do this,” she said frantically. “I mean I really can’t. I’m not ready to have a baby. I’m too young and inexperienced. I’m panicking. You need to talk me down.”
“I’m older and I’m panicked, too, so get in line.”
“What? But you’re so together.”
“Not about this,” he told her.
They stared at each other. Between them, they probably had every brochure ever printed on the subject of child birth and child rearing. They each had a couple of books, along with lists of resources.
She drew in a deep breath. “Okay, so we should probably calm down. The baby won’t be here for seven more months. We’re smart and capable. We can prepare.”
Her words made sense. “Plus it won’t expect much when it’s born. Food, clean diapers, a place to sleep.”
“Exactly.