Page 20 of Madly Deeply

As they walked the long hallway of their Spanish style home, she traced her fingertips on the textured walls. It had taken so long to find this place. Large enough for kids without being gaudy. Though now, there would be only one child.

"Must be the hormones," she whispered, wiping her eyes.

"What is, love?"

"All these tears. I'm not sad, not really. I have everything I need here."

"Not everything you want, though."

She swallowed hard. "I hate that we can't touch."

"I know." His form wavered slightly. "I hope ye'll not regret coming home. We could have stayed in Scotland, with the others who understand..."

"This is where we belong." She reached for his hand without thinking.

He reached back, their fingers nearly meeting. Nearly, but not quite.

He grimaced as if in pain and let his hand drop to his side. "Turn out the lights, love. I always feel closer to ye in the dark."

She flipped the switch, and in the shifting of shadows, she could almost feel him against her.

It didn’t matter if it was all illusion. She’d experiencednothingalready, and illusion was a thousand times better.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The OB/GYN's waiting room was full of new leather furniture in pastel colors. The whole place smelled like new paint and sawdust, the perfect ambiance for making a new start with a new little life in their future.

The wall of baby pictures promised the doctors were not as new as the building. Beaming mothers, swaddled bundles, proud fathers and grandmas nearby. Alex couldn’t help looking forward to her own big day—and knowing only she and her baby would be visible.

“Well, Grandma, you wanted me to find magic…”

“What’s that?” Since all the seats nearby were taken, Spreag stood halfway across the room and read a magazine over another man’s shoulder.

Alex held her phone to her head, like she often did in public. “Just talking to my grandma.”

“As long as ye’re not really speaking with the ghost of her,” he said, then went back to reading. He pretended to be calm, but behind him, his fidgeting hands gave him away.

Actually, Alex couldn’t think of anything she wanted more at that moment than to speak with the old woman, to get a little comfort on such a big day. In a minute, she expected to hear her baby’s heartbeat.

Hopefully, that’s all she’d hear. If the “gifted” child sat up and started talking to her, they’d be picking the doctor up off the floor.

Her hand drifted to her middle and she silently prayed her appointment would be normal and boring.

Then she went back to filling out forms. Family medical history. Father's side unknown. She wondered what genetic surprises might come with having an 18th century Highland ghost for a father.

"Alexandra Tulloch?" A nurse held the door open, clipboard in hand.

Alex gathered her purse and followed her down a cheerfully decorated hallway, with Spreag beside her.

"First baby?" The nurse asked as she took Alex's blood pressure.

"Yes."

"Are we waiting on the father before we do the ultrasound?"

"Passed away." The words still hurt, but not as sharply. Not with him standing right there, watching the numbers on the blood pressure cuff as if he understood what they meant.

"I'm so sorry,” the nurse said with genuine sympathy. “Do you have family nearby?"

---