Whispering Rock (Virgin River #3)(53)

“Not nearly as much as I’ll miss you,” he whispered to her departing back.

Jack woke a few mornings later to the sound of David’s fussing, but instead of hearing his wife’s usual cooing and cajoling as she took care of his early-morning needs, he heard a very different sound. A very unpleasant sound. Retching. He sat up, found his boxers on the floor and shrugged into them. He went to his son’s room and lifted him out of the crib. “Morning, pardner,” he said to his boy, hefting him onto the changing table to get off that all-night diaper. “Whew,” he said as he removed it. “That’s gotta be ten pounds of pee. I don’t know how you do it.” He gave David’s bottom a wipe, diapered him and carried him to the bathroom doorway.

Mel was kneeling in front of the toilet holding her hair back with one hand.

With David on his hip, Jack wet a washcloth with the other hand, squeezing it out. He handed it to her. “Come on, Melinda. You can’t avoid it forever. We both know you’re pregnant.”

“Ugh,” she said, accepting the cool, wet cloth. She pressed it to her face, her brow, her neck. She didn’t have any more to say.

But Jack knew. There had been tears, exhaustion, nausea. She turned watering eyes up to him. He shrugged and said, “You eased up on the breast-feeding, popped an egg and I nailed it.”

Her eyes narrowed as if to say she did not appreciate the explanation. He held out a hand to bring her to her feet. “You have to wean David,” he said. “Your body can’t completely nourish two children. You’ll get weak. You’re already exhausted.”

“I don’t want to be pregnant right now,” she said. “I’m barely over being pregnant.”

“I understand.”

“No, you don’t. Because you haven’t ever been pregnant.”

He thought this would probably be a bad time to tell her that he did so understand, since he had lived with a pregnant person and listened very attentively to every complaint. “We should go see John right away, so you can find out how pregnant.”

“How long have you suspected?” she asked him.

“I don’t know. A few weeks. It was a little tougher this time….”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Well, yeah. Since you haven’t had a period since the first time I laid a hand on you. God, for a supposedly sterile woman, you certainly are fertile.” Then he grinned, fully aware it would have got him smacked if he hadn’t been holding the baby.

She whirled away from him and went to sit on their bed. She put her face in her hands and began to cry. Well, he’d been expecting exactly this. There’d been a lot of crying lately and he knew she was going to be mighty pissed off. He sat down beside her, put an arm around her and pulled her close. David patted her head. “It’s going to be okay,” he said. “I’m not delivering this one. I want that understood.”

“Try not to be cute,” she said through her tears. “I think my back already hurts.”

“Can I get you something? Soda? Crackers? Arsenic?”

“Very funny.” She turned her head to look at him. “Are you upset?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry it happened so soon. Sorry for you. I know there are times you get damned uncomfortable and I wanted you to get a break.”

“I should never have gone away with you.”

“Nah. You were already pregnant. Wanna bet?”

“You knew before that?”

“I wondered why you were so emotional, and that was a possible reason. I never bought your whole sterile thing. But I don’t have a problem with it. I wanted more kids. I like the idea of a larger family than the three of us. I come from a big family.”

“There will not be five, I can guarantee you that,” she said. Then she bored a hole through him with her eyes. “Snip, snip.”

“You’re not going to blame this on me, Mel. I suggested birth control. A couple of times, as a matter of fact. You were the one said it could never happen twice. And then explained that whole business about not ovulating while you’re nursing. How’s that working for you so far? Hmm?”

“Screw you,” she said, not sweetly.

“Well, obviously…”

“I’d like you to understand I wasn’t relying on that breast-feeding thing. I’m a midwife—I know that’s not foolproof. I really didn’t think it possible that… Shit,” she said. She sighed deeply. “I just barely got back into my jeans….”

“Yeah, those jeans. Whoa, damn. Those jeans really do it to me. No one wears a pair of jeans like you do.”

“Aren’t you getting a little sick of having a fat wife?”

“You’re not fat. You’re perfect. I love your body, pregnant and unpregnant. I know you’re trying to get me all worked up, but I’m not going there. You can try to pick a fight with me all day and I just won’t play. It wouldn’t be a fair fight—you’re out to get me and we both know it. Do you have appointments this morning?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to go to Grace Valley for an ultrasound. I want to know when I have to have the house done.”

All the way to Grace Valley, she ragged on him. She threatened him with dire consequences if he got all puffed up and studly about this. It was easy for him to take it in stride—exactly how many eight-pound babies had he pushed out? And if he joked about this even once, she was going to make him pay. Perhaps for life.