Baby On The Way by Sandra Paul Read Free Book Online Page B

baby and use the back room for a sitting room,” Libby told her friend.
    Chris smiled. “Sounds great. If you need more furniture, check the loft in the garage. I think there’s a bassinet up there.”
    “Thanks.” Libby looked fondly at the worn antiques around her—a tarnished brass bed, a mahogany dressing table with a clouded mirror, the broad rocking chair in which she was sitting. She loved the aura of timelessness surrounding the old furniture. Her mother’s taste had run to brash, modern pieces that looked “artistic” but never felt comfortable when you sat in them.
    Rocking absently, she gazed out the window at the oak leaves fluttering in the light morning breeze. The thought of the way the building had sheltered family after family charmed her. “This is such a wonderful old house,” she said softly.
    Christine made a face. “You think so? Personally, I’d rather have an apartment in a big city where there’s a chance of some excitement—and I will as soon as I snag another couple of promotions.”
    “Really?” Libby said in surprise. “You’d prefer an apartment to this?”
    Chris nodded. “Yep, give me a modern, low-care condo any day.” She wrinkled her small nose. “No matter what you do, old houses always smell likemusty books and lemon polish. I think Del feels the same but this house has been in our family for generations, so he’s hesitated to—omigosh!”
    She bolted up so suddenly that Libby squeaked in alarm, drawing her feet up beneath her off the wooden floor. “What is it! A mouse?”
    Chris looked at her in surprise and then laughed merrily. “Good gracious, no. I just remembered Del’s waiting for us in the parlor. He piled all your presents in there.”
    Bouncing to her feet, Christine headed for the door carrying Teddy with her, only to pause as a thought struck her. She looked back at Libby, who hadn’t moved from the rocker. “Why, have you seen a mouse lately?” she demanded.
    Libby nodded reluctantly. Chris declared, “I’d better tell Del,” and bounded down the stairs before Libby could protest that she didn’t mind a little mouse running around. Well, she did, but she certainly didn’t want Del to kill it.
    “Libby!” Christine called from the stairwell. “Are you coming?”
    “Be right there.”
    Setting her knitting aside, Libby forced herself to get up and went to the dressing table. Picking up her brush she ran it through her hair. She wasn’t anxious to see Del again. Already her stomach was twisting and turning and for once it wasn’t because of the baby’s antics. Thank goodness he was only staying a day or two. She didn’t have the energy for any more.
    She leaned forward, eyeing herself in the foggy glass. She did look a little peaked; she’d have to ask the doctor for a stronger iron pill or something. Butfor now—She picked up some cover-up and daubed the makeup on the mauve circles beneath her eyes. There! Surely Del wouldn’t notice them now.
    Del noticed as soon as she came in the parlor. He glanced away, pretending to examine a couple of gift boxes to hide his frown. He’d hoped a good night’s sleep would erase her air of fragility, but obviously it hadn’t done the trick. Libby moved slowly, without energy, settling into an armchair with an unconscious sigh.
    His lips straightened into a firm line. No doubt about it—he needed to accompany her to the doctor and find out if her tiredness was normal or not. She wouldn’t like his decision, he knew, so he didn’t comment on his plans, saying instead, “Chris says you saw a mouse.”
    “Only a small one,” Libby replied, as if the size of the rodent made a difference. “And just a few times.”
    “Or maybe you’ve seen several different mice one time each,” he countered dryly. “I’ll set some traps.”
    Ignoring the small sound of protest Libby made, he turned to his sister. “Better give me a list of everything else that needs to be done around this place and