And Babies Make Five / At Long Last, a Bride: And Babies Make Five

Besides, with the babies coming, it wasn’t a good time to be alone.

There was a support group for expectant mothers at the clinic that she’d considered joining. It was just that she felt a little uneasy in a crowd, especially when meeting people for the first time. And for that reason, a one-on-one lunch with Yolanda was far more appealing.

“Would you two like to join us?” Hector asked. “We can ask the waiter to give us a bigger table.”

Yolanda brightened, but before she could speak, Chad responded. “Thanks for asking, Hector, but I planned a romantic dinner tonight.”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet.” Yolanda turned to her husband and smiled. “But it might be fun to—”

Chad put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and drew her close. “I didn’t tell you yet, but the company’s got me scheduled to work a lot of overtime for the next month or two. So this might be our last chance for a special evening. And with the baby coming …?”

Yolanda nodded, then placed a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “In that case, we’re going to have to pass on joining you tonight. Maybe, when Chad has more free time, we can make it a double date.”

Samantha waited for Hector to correct his sister about the date comment, but he didn’t.

Instead, Yolanda added, “So what do you think of the Old World Bistro? Isn’t it great?”

“I like the setting and décor.” Hector lifted his wine glass, tilting it just a tad. “The merlot is good, too, but the jury’s still out on the food. We’ll let you know after we eat.”

“Just wait until you try the spinach salad,” Yolanda said. “You’re going to love it.”

Chad gave Yolanda an affectionate squeeze. “We don’t want to keep the hostess waiting, so we’ll let you two get back to your menus.” Then he ushered her back to the table they’d been given.

But as they walked away, Yolanda glanced over her shoulder, taking one last look at Samantha, her curiosity evident.

Samantha waited until Chad and Yolanda were clearly out of hearing range, then said, “Your sister thinks that I’m your date tonight.”

A grin curled the corners of his mouth, setting off a pair of impish dimples and a glimmer in those pretty brown eyes. “I know.”

Samantha placed a hand on her rounded belly. “And she thinks that you’ve been hiding a big secret.”

Hector chuckled. “It’s going to drive her crazy until she learns the details.”

“You kept her in the dark on purpose?”

“Yolanda’s a great sister, but I can’t help giving her a hard time every once in a while.”

Samantha didn’t have a sister—or a brother, for that matter. So she didn’t understand the dynamics at play in the Garza family.

Would her three children grow up to care about what was happening in each others’ lives? To tease each other in a goodhearted way? She hoped so. It all seemed so normal, so loving.

She glanced across the restaurant at Yolanda and Chad’s table and caught Hector’s sister looking at her again. Then Samantha offered Hector a smile. “Whatever you’re up to seems to be working. Her wheels are definitely turning.”

“If you think she’s wondering now, watch this.” Hector reached across the table and took Samantha’s hand in his.

The surprise of his touch, the heat of it, nearly knocked the wind right out of her. As his thumb caressed her skin, her heart soared.

She could have pulled her hand away, she supposed. In fact, she really should have. But she was so taken aback by the bold move, so caught up in it, that she sought his gaze instead. And while she’d expected to see those impish dimples, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that reflected the whimsical game he was playing with his sister, something entirely different passed between them, something blood-stirring.

Something real? she wondered.

Too real to ponder, she decided. The handsome bachelor sitting across from her was playing a game, all right, but on her senses. And so was the romantic ambience—the candles, the red roses on the table.

She clicked her tongue and drew back her hand, trying her best to regroup. “You need to stop teasing her, Hector. Or you’ll really have some explaining to do. In fact, your phone will probably be ringing off the hook before you can unlock your front door.”

He smiled again, but the playful glimmer in his eyes had completely disappeared, and a shadow of something altogether different had taken its place.

Something serious, something heart-stirring. Something a woman in Samantha’s delicate condition had no business toying around with.

Then whatever had simmered in his eyes and had sizzled in the air around them faded as quickly as it had settled over her, leaving her to wonder if she’d imagined it all.

What had started out as an opportunity to tease Yolanda earlier this evening had morphed into something else the moment Hector had touched Samantha’s hand and looked into her eyes, and his playful plan had quickly fallen by the wayside.

He tried to blame it on the evening, on the romantic setting, but he feared there was more going on than that, which caused him to withdraw.

They finished their dinner without another touch, another heated gaze, but he’d been on edge for the rest of their time together.

After paying the bill, he orchestrated a brief stop at his sister’s table to thank her for the restaurant suggestion and to say goodbye. Then he and Samantha headed back to Primrose Lane. As they drove, he turned on the radio and found his favorite station. He thought a little music would eliminate the need to make conversation. And, for the most part, it worked, until Joe Cocker began singing “You Are So Beautiful.”

He parked in his driveway, still a bit off-balance and eager to end the evening and set his world to rights.

As he walked her home, the moon and stars were especially bright, and the scent of night-blooming jasmine laced the air. Apparently, in spite of his best intentions, a romantic mood was going to dog him all evening long.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “It was nice getting out, and the food was great.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“Your sister was right. The Old World Bistro is wonderful.”

“Yes, it is.” And far more romantic than Hector had expected.

For a moment, he had the strongest compulsion to touch her, to cup her cheek, to press a good-night kiss upon her lips.

But that would be utterly foolish.

And so would lollygagging at her front door until he lost his resolve to keep things neighborly—and completely platonic.

“I’ll see you around,” he said, making a decision to steer clear of her for a while.

She nodded. “Take care.”

As he returned to his car so he could park it in the garage, he realized that Samantha had made a quick escape easy for him.

Apparently, she hadn’t read anything into that momentary rush when he’d touched her hand—thank goodness for that. Whatever crazy romantic notions that might have crossed his mind had been put to rest.

He heard her door close behind him, and it took all he had not to turn, to look over his shoulder.

But he didn’t want to give her any ideas. And he didn’t want things to become any more awkward between them. They were, after all, neighbors and bound to run into each other more often than not.

He pulled the car into the garage, then let himself into the house. He’d no more than opened the door, stepped into the living room and reached for the light switch when his phone rang. He took his time answering, assuming it was his sister on the line. Yolanda had been trying to hook him up with someone—anyone—for the past six months.

When he answered, Yolanda skipped the formalities of a greeting and launched right into the reason for the call. “Okay, Hector. What gives? Who is Samantha? Where did you meet her? And better yet, who’s the father of her baby?”

“Hang on a minute. I just walked in.” If he hadn’t actually struggled with some real-life attraction tonight, he would have considered her inquisition amusing. But as it was, he didn’t find anything remotely funny about it now.

He slipped the house keys into his pocket, took a seat in the easy chair and kicked off his shoes. “I was expecting your call.”

“Don’t give me a hard time. You can’t blame me for wondering. I’ve been trying to talk you into settling down forever. But maybe I shouldn’t have bothered. It looks like you might have already found someone.”

“Slow down, sis. Samantha is my neighbor. And since she’s a single mom, I thought she deserved a night out. We’re just friends.”

“She’s not pregnant with your baby?”

“Nope. ‘Fraid not.”

He could hear the disappointment in her sigh, and he decided to set her straight. “If the woman I got involved with was expecting my baby, my family would definitely know about it.”

“I guess you’re right. But you can be so secretive at times.”

“Relax. Samantha’s a nice woman. But no, we’re not involved.”

“I’m actually sorry to hear that.”

“I’m sure you are.”

Recently, Hector’s parents had joined his sister in pressuring him to remarry, to start a family and to enjoy the fruits of his labor. According to his brother, Diego, they were proud of him and his Horatio Alger success, but they were worried about him and his nonexistent social life.

He’d tried to explain to them that a woman and kids didn’t fit into his life, which was why his first marriage didn’t last.

“Samantha is a beautiful woman,” Yolanda said. “Aren’t you the least bit interested in her?”

A bit too much, he realized. “Come on, sis. She’s pregnant.”

“I guess that means you’re not attracted to expectant mothers, and I can see why you wouldn’t be. I was looking in the mirror one morning and realized I was as getting to be as wide as I am tall. I started to cry—I do a lot of that these days—but Chad was such a sweetheart. He told me he loved me and said that I was more appealing to him now than ever before. He seemed sincere, so I sure hope he meant it.”

“He did mean it,” Hector said. “I can’t imagine how exciting it must be for him to know that a baby was created out of your love for each other. And looking at you, seeing that the baby is growing and getting ready for birth, has to be a real thrill for him.”

“Thanks, Hector. I needed to hear that.” She paused for a moment, as if taking it all in. “So I guess that means Samantha’s pregnancy is a turnoff to you since it’s not your baby.”

It certainly should have been, but for some reason, it wasn’t, and he had no idea why. But since he didn’t understand it himself, he certainly couldn’t explain it to someone else. So he decided to change the subject. “Hey, I’ve got a question for you.”

“What’s that?”

“Even though Samantha and I aren’t dating, do you still plan to give her a call?”

“I told her I would. And she seems like a nice person. Do you have a problem with us having lunch together?”

“No, not at all. I think it would be nice if you did. Her mother died recently, so she’s pretty much alone.”

“What about the baby’s father?” she asked.

“He’s out of the picture—completely.”

“And so you’re looking out for her?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Hmm. Now, that’s really interesting, Hector.”

He blew out a sigh. “Stop trying to read things into this.”

“Okay, I won’t. But don’t you wish you had someone in your life again? Someone to come home to?”

“Not if she’s like Patrice.”

“You see similarities between Samantha and your ex-wife?”

Actually? Not a single one. But if he gave his sister any idea that he was interested in Samantha—well, he wasn’t; he couldn’t be. So he couldn’t let Yolanda jump on an idea like that, or he’d never hear the end of it. And neither would Samantha, if the two women did end up having lunch together.

“So you’re glad to be footloose and single?” his sister asked.

“Of course.” He scanned his living room, which was cluttered with this morning’s newspaper, a copy of Golf Digest, an empty beer bottle he’d forgotten to take to the kitchen a couple of days ago, a golf scorecard he was rather proud of.

If Patrice were here, she’d be bitching about how messy he was. Not that he didn’t like a clean house; he wasn’t a slob. If he spilled something, he mopped it up. And he never let the trash pile up until things smelled rotten.

He just didn’t always pick up after himself. But he had a maid come in once a week, and she did the things he didn’t have the time or the inclination to do.

And she never complained.

“You don’t miss having a wife?” Yolanda asked.

“Why would I? I take my dirty clothes to the laundry, and my shirts come back starched the way I like them. I eat at my favorite restaurants, and for the most part, my house is clean. It’s easier that way.”

“But you’re also missing out on love and companionship.”

“I’m happy,” he told his sister. “You’ve never heard me complain.”

But he had to admit, at least to himself, that it wasn’t all that fun coming home to a dark, empty house.

Or sleeping alone in a king-size bed.

Odd, he thought. Before Samantha moved back home, he hadn’t given either much thought.

Chapter Four

The next morning, as Hector walked out to get the morning newspaper, he noticed quite a few of the neighbors had taken their recycling bins and their rubbish to the curb, which was a reminder that it was trash day.

Samantha hadn’t yet taken out hers, either. And the truck always came early.

Maybe she’d overslept. Or maybe she’d completely forgotten it was Thursday.

Hector hated to think of her struggling with the bins and cans, especially in her condition. So even though he’d made up his mind to put a little distance between them from now on, he would offer to take her garbage out to the street for her.

He carried the newspaper with him, strode to her stoop and rang the bell. When the door swung open, he braced himself to see her wearing a robe, her hair tousled from sleep. But she was dressed for the day in a pair of black slacks and a light green blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which made her look a bit younger than she had last night. A bit more vulnerable—and sad.

“Did you forget what day it is?” he asked.

Her brow furrowed. “No, I haven’t forgotten. But how did you know?”

“Because everyone else has already carried their garbage to the curb. I was just about to drag mine out and thought I’d offer to take yours, too.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice a gentle wisp. “You mean, it’s trash day.”

“What did you think I was talking about?”

“It’s.” She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, today was my mom’s birthday.”

Oh, crap. No wonder she seemed so down. “I’m sorry, Samantha. I guess this is going to be a tough day for you.”

“I don’t want it to be, so I’m going to drive out to the cemetery for a while this morning.” She gave a little shrug and went on to explain. “It seems like the right thing to do. Then I’m going to go shopping. I’d like to buy some wallpaper for the nursery, which will give me something else to think about for the rest of the day.”

In spite of his resolve to distance himself, he just couldn’t do it. Not today. Not when she would be thinking about her mother and realizing how alone she was. But her plan to focus on the baby, on the future, was a good one. In fact, he suspected that had been her reason for getting pregnant in the first place. She probably wanted to re-create a family for herself.

“My sister chose a jungle theme for her nursery,” he said, wanting to keep her mind on the baby instead of her mom. “You ought to see it. She and Chad had a lot of fun setting up everything.”

Great, he thought. He’d just tossed out a reminder that she didn’t have a husband, either.

“I’ll bet it’s really cute. I’m not sure what kind of theme I’d like. I’ve still got a lot of time to decide.”

He couldn’t help glancing at her belly, noting the size of the mound. She seemed to be even bigger today than she had been last night, although that was probably only a result of the clothing she’d chosen to wear. But still, he doubted that she had as much time to prepare for the baby as she thought she did—probably only a couple of months or so.

“If I find some prints that I like, I’ll probably bring them home and think about it. Maybe you can help me decide which one to use.”

Picking out baby stuff was the last thing he wanted to do, but under the circumstances, how could he tell her no? “Sure, I’ll do that. It sounds like fun.”

Fun? How lame was that comment? Hector wasn’t into shopping, unless it was at Home Depot. He could hang out there all day. But looking for wallpaper with baby ducks and chickens? It would be pure torture.

“You could go with me,” she said, “if you want.”

Shopping? No way. He could still remember the time Patrice had dragged him to the mall to look for living-room furniture. It had been a pain in the butt, and they’d had a big fight that had landed him on the sofa for two nights.

He forced a smile. “I would, but it’s a work day.”

“Oh, yeah.” She smiled wistfully. “I forgot.”

Probably because her late husband was so wealthy he hadn’t needed to work. It was a good reminder of the different lives they lived, the little they had in common.

“Just let me know when you’re ready to show me some samples,” he said. “I’ll be home after five tonight.”

She nodded and offered him a smile that made him feel like some kind of hero, when he felt like everything but.

So he nodded toward the road. “If you’ll open your garage, I’ll carry your trash to the curb.”

“Thanks. I’ll do that now.”

Samantha went back into the house, and before long, the garage-door opener sounded. Moments later, she was showing him where she kept the recycle bins.

“The trash cans are on the side of the house,” she said. “But there’s just one, and it’s only half-full.”

He noticed a large number of boxes that had been lined along the east wall of the garage. Each was marked Salvation Army. “I see you’re recycling clothes and things, too.”

“Those were Peter’s. I decided it was time to get rid of them. I’d like to see someone else get some use out of them.”

The guy had always been impeccably dressed, so someone looking for secondhand clothing was going to get a heck of a bargain.

Still, he was happy to see she’d cleaned out the closets. That had to be a sign that she’d moved on.

Or maybe she was only trying to get over her husband and start anew. Maybe moving on was more of an effort than a reality.

He stole another glance at Samantha, saw her willowy shape, as well as a whisper of sadness in her eyes. Again he was struck by her beauty and the waiflike aura that seemed to envelop her, and something tugged at his heartstrings. She was expecting a baby and didn’t have the support of either a husband or a mother, like Yolanda had.

So he would do whatever he could to make things easier for her, especially until the baby was born. At that point, her life would be full of wonder and awe, rather than grief and loneliness. Then he would back off.

“Well,” he said, “I really ought to get moving. I’ve got a meeting first thing.”

“Thanks for all your help, Hector. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem.” He carried her trash and recyclables to the curb, then returned home and got ready to head to the office.

Life was short and unpredictable, he supposed. People divorced, spouses died and loved ones struggled to carry on.

Maybe Yolanda had been right. Maybe he needed to find a nice woman and settle down. But he had no idea where to look—or when he’d find time to do so.

A car engine started up, and Samantha backed her Jag out of the garage and into the street. Then she hit the remote to lower the door.

As she spotted Hector, she waved, and he gave her a nod.

No doubt she was a nice woman. And if a man got involved with her, he’d certainly have to settle down. After all, he’d soon have a little one underfoot.

But taking on a ready-made family?

Hector wasn’t up for the task, especially when it meant raising another man’s baby.

Samantha had decided to get the visit to her mother out of the way early, since she’d be thinking about it all day if she didn’t.

So after Hector came by and offered to take out her trash, she’d driven twenty-three miles to Hastings, where her mother had been born. Then she continued on to the little cemetery on the outskirts of town.

She parked and purchased a bouquet of pink roses from a vendor who sold flowers and pinwheels for people to place on grave sites. Then she made the short walk to the grassy knoll where her mother had been buried. Once she reached the familiar marble stone, with its carved cherubs, she took a seat on the lawn, which was still damp from the morning dew. There weren’t many people out and about yet—just two women bearing a container of red carnations and a lone man in front of a double-size headstone, a baseball cap in his hands and his head bowed.

Birds chattered in the treetops, and a family of ducks swam in the nearby pond, reminding Samantha that life went on.

She sat in pensive solitude for a while, basking in the loving memories she had of her mother.

She remembered the day they’d spent at the seashore when she was fourteen. The picnic lunch they’d eaten, their romp in the waves, the sandcastle they’d made. The chat they’d had about Samantha remaining a virgin until the right man came along, a man who would treat her with love and respect.

Several years later, while in her first year of college, she’d found that man in Peter Keating, a graduate student. He’d fallen for her quickly—and hard. With time and patience, he’d eventually convinced her that they were meant to be together.

Peter had adored her in a way most women only dreamed about, and at times she’d felt guilty for not quite loving him as much as he deserved. She’d talked about it to her mother once, about feeling as though there was something missing.

But her mom insisted it would come with time. And she’d gone on to ask, “Do you know how many women would give their left arms to be loved by a man like Peter Keating?”

Her mom had been right; it had come with time. Not the spark, but contentment and the realization that she’d done the right thing by marrying him.

She thought about her wedding day, when Mama had sat in the front row at the church, wearing a blue designer dress Peter had purchased for her. She’d looked every bit as elegant as the Keatings and their wealthy, high-society friends.

“This is the happiest day of my life,” her mom had said, her glimmering eyes the same shade as her dress. “You have no idea how relieved I am to know you’ll never want for anything.”

And she hadn’t. Peter had made sure that her life was picture-book perfect. And thanks to her quick thinking at his bedside five years ago, he’d even provided her with a family.

“Just think,” Samantha said softly, hoping her words would somehow reach her mom’s ears. “In less than five months I’m going to be a mother myself.”

Or sooner than that, she realized, as she recalled what Dr. Demetrios had said about triplets coming early.

A monarch butterfly fluttered by, as if carrying her mother’s happy response, and eventually landed on a dandelion nearby.

“I wish you could be here to see the babies when they come,” Samantha said. “We would have had so much fun fixing up the nursery, shopping for baby clothes and waiting for their arrival.”

She had Peter’s mother, though. But somehow she couldn’t imagine Marian Keating in a grandmother role, rocking the babies or changing their diapers. She’d be more apt to offer to pay for a nanny—one she interviewed herself and hired based upon credentials and references.