Chapter 28: A Slip
Any hopes for a calm and relaxing day on Sunday, took flight early in the day.
Abigail, with Donald in tow, stopped in to visit shortly before nine-thirty. Now that Remington was firmly on the mend and she needn't be prepared to assume the role of mother of the grieving widow, there was a Junior League meeting on Monday that she decreed she simply could not miss. Yet, before leaving she could not help imparting her opinion on the young couple… she was Abigail, after all.
"Remington, I think it's time you and Laura consider a new line of work," she advised, as Laura scowled at the back of her head. "Now I know the two of you enjoy all the intrigue and excitement of being detectives, but there comes a time when you have to say enough is enough. The work's far too dangerous and the two of you aren't getting any younger, you know." At this Remington's brow quirked upward, while Laura lifted her eyes ceilingward praying for some divine intervention. "It's time for the two of you to start thinking of a respectable profession…" her eyes slanted towards Laura "… and of starting a family. Why, by the time Frances was Laura's age Laurie Beth was already here. It's one thing for a man to have children later in life, but it'll only be all the more difficult on Laura the older she gets and, certainly, she'll want to stay home once babies start arriving. Maybe you should start a nice little gallery. Daniel said you've always enjoyed art. Laura has that degree in math. I'm sure she could help a few hours a week, taking care of the books and such. Or investments. Donald's done very well—" Laura had finally had enough.
"Mother, we're not closing the Agency. Not now, not ever," she told her firmly.
"You say that now, but once the children start arriving—"
"Maybe Remington and I don't plan to have children," Laura retorted peevishly, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up, "Have you considered that? This is the eighties. Many couples these days prefer to remain childless so they can travel freely, work—" Remington's lips twitched with amusement, given Laura was already pregnant with their child.
"Now, darling, there's no need to be like that," she scolded then turned to Remington. "Don't mind Laura," she told him as though Laura could not hear. His eyes flicked to his wife and watched as her lips thinned, her temper building. Picking up his hand, Abigail patted it. "She's never been interested in the traditional values of home and family, but I'm sure you'll be able to change her mind. After all, you did manage to get her to settle down which I feared no one would manage to do since she ran off that lovely Jeffrey's boy. I'm sure she'll be a perfectly adequate mother, and as wonderful as you are with children, I'm sure you'll be able to make up for her shortcom—"
"Abigail," he interrupted at the last, his own temper pricked, wondering how the woman knew nothing about her daughter, at all. "Forgive me for saying so, but 'that lovely Jeffrey's boy' of whom you speak so fondly? He's not only a twit, but a man whom committed numerous wrongs against your daughter. Wrongs, I might add, that I spent the better part of four years paying for. Further, as far as Laura and I having a child—"
"Remington," Laura sighed. There was little point in dressing down her mother, as Laura knew from experience the woman was immune to it.
"She and I discussed the matter at length, months ago. She'll not make an adequate mother—"
"Remington," Laura said again, voice rising, as alarm began to set in, realizing too late her mother had genuinely affronted him.
"But an extraordinary one," he continued, oblivious to Laura calling his name. "Which is precisely why she is, at this very moment—"
"Mr. Steele!" Laura shouted. Short of throwing herself across the bed at him and slapping her hand over his mouth, she only stand by and watch as…
"Pregnant with our child. As for our business, we both—"
"Oh, God," Laura mumbled in horror, as she staggered to the chair next to his bed and sat down hard in it.
"Take a great deal of pride in helping people and immensely—" he continued.
"Laura's pregnant!" Abigail squeaked, turning to look at that very daughter who was by now burying her face in her hands.
"Oh, my God," Donald weighed in from across the room.
"…enjoy what we do. At no point do we plan to shut down the Agency—" He stopped his rant mid-sentence when Abigail leaned down and placed a joyous kiss on his cheek.
"I don't know how you did it, Remington!" she effused as Remington looked at her with confusion.
"Did what?" He asked, confused by both the woman's kiss and her enthusiasm given he was in the midst of calling her upon the carpet. He looked to Donald who stood grinning like a fool across the room then to his wife, who spread the fingers covering her face, only to close them again.
"Oh, God," she bemoaned again.
"Now, Laura, maybe I should just cancel my flight—"
"No," Laura all but shouted in her horror, as she launched herself to her feet. Taking a quick breath, she continued much more calmly. "Really, Mother, that's not necessary. Remington should be coming home in just a few days—"
"Exactly my point," Abigail proclaimed. "In your condition—" Remington sat up straighter at those words and rewound his lecture in his head.
"Oh, God," he fairly moaned, swiping at his face, as he realized what he'd done.
"You can't be expected to take care of Remington while he's recovering. I'll just cancel my flight home and stay a month or—"
"Mother, we'll be fine," Laura insisted, her voice going up an octave, as her husband now appeared close to panic. "Remington and I really need time to ourselves right now, and if we need any help, the Androkus's are here, Thomas and Catherine—"
"And Frannie and I will be more than happy to lend a hand," Donald interjected. Laura turned her head and looked at him gratefully.
"See, Mother, we'll be fine," Laura told her, trying to sound reassuring.
"Well if you're sure. I really need to be at my meeting tomorrow. We're planning the Spring charity auction…"
"I'm sure. We'll be fine." She fought back the urge to sigh with relief. Abigail clasped Laura's face between her hands.
"Now, I don't want you to worry. In time, you'll be happy about this, dear." Laura's brow furrowed.
"I am happy, Mother." Abigail patted her on the cheek then with a quick hug, released her.
"Of course, you are. Just don't blame poor Remington while you sort your feelings out. Remember," Abigail gave her youngest a long look, "It took both of you, not just him, to make this happen." Laura threw her hands upwards and looked to the ceiling in frustration when her mother turned back to her husband.
"Remington, dear, we're all so very happy you made it through." Bussing him on the cheek, she turned to Donald. "If we don't hurry, I'll be late for my flight, Donald." Donald rolled his eyes at the implication it was he making them late, and stepped to Laura to press a kiss on her cheeks and give her a hug.
"I'm so happy for you, Laura," he told her sincerely. Leaning back she smiled at him.
"Thank you. Donald, would you mind bringing Frances back here around…" she glanced at her watch and did some quick calculations, "…one? I want her to hear the news from me."
"Absolutely. We'll be here with bells on. She'll be thrilled."
With those words, he and Abigail departed. Remington warily watched Laura's back. The longer she remained still, quiet, the more nervous he became. You've really stepped into it this time, old sport. Lifting hand, he worried his thumb nail with his teeth, having no choice but to wait her out and hope he could soothe things over once she blew. Finally, as minutes ticked by, he couldn't stand it any longer.
"Laura, I'm sor—" She held up a hand and turned to face him.
"It's fine," she sighed. He stared at her as though she'd grown a second and third head. Is this my wife? Laura Holt Steele? It's fine? Her response left him thoroughly baffled.
"You're not upset?" He said the words before he could stop them. Jolly good move, old sport. Encourage her to get angry, then.
"I'm not thrilled. But even more so, I'm determined that Kerr's going to release me from his care today. Getting angry runs contrary to that goal," she answered logically. "Now, we just deal with it. What time are you expecting Thomas today?"
"If he keeps to the schedule of the past few mornings, I imagine within the hour."
"Alright. Elena said the family will be here at noon with our lunch, so we'll tell them then. I'll call Mildred and have her stop by at…" she frowned, then nodded, "…two. Call Monroe, ask him and Jocelyn to stop by for a visit at three, I'll do the same with Murphy and Bernice."
"Laura, are you sure?" he asked, still gnawing at the thumb.
"Remington, we might not be able to control when it gets out, now, but we can certainly control how. We have any number of family and friends who will be hurt if they find out through the grapevine instead of from us." She rolled her head, trying to release the tension in her neck. "I'm going downstairs to see Kerr. If Thomas gets here before I return, wait until I get back." Walking to the side of the bed, she brushed away his hand and tapped her lips to his. "I'll be back shortly."
With those words she departed, leaving Remington staring at the door when it closed in her wake.
"He cried, Laura," Remington contemplated, as he and Laura lay in his bed that evening. "My father actually cried."
And he had. It had been an emotional day, all around.
When Laura had arrived back on Remington's floor, she'd found him walking the hallways, leaning a bit heavily on the PCA stand for support. Even her concern that he was pushing himself too hard, too fast, could not suppress the smile on her face. Taking his arm, she wordlessly guided him back in the direction of his room.
"Good news, I take it?" he asked, noting the dimple flashing in her cheek.
"Very. No more visits."
"Ah, two Steele's given a clean bill of health, may the third soon follow," he said heartily.
"Right now, I'd be happy just to get you home. So, let's not overdo it, Mr. Steele," she admonished lightly, unable to help herself.
"Mmmm, might have done just that this go round," he admitted, even as his legs wobbled a bit. Quickly hooking his arm around her shoulders, her eyes narrowed with worry.
"Maybe we should find you a wheelchair. What do you think?" she suggested. He cast an appalled look in her direction.
"It's bad enough I'm tottering about in my pajamas and robe, Laura, where anyone might see me, despoiling the image we've carefully cultivated over the years, but to be seen as unable—" She let out a long suffering sigh, ending his diatribe.
"Alright, but when all three Steele's are lying on the floor because you can't stay on your feet," she warned, even as he wobbled more substantially this time, "It'll be even more embarrassing to the very image you're harping about."
"Might I be of assistance?" Thomas asked from behind the couple. As he'd arrived to visit his son, he'd witnessed Remington's unsteadiness and his petite wife's attempts to keep him erect. Normally, an implication she was unable to handle a task would have her hackles rising but in this particular case, Thomas most certainly had a size advantage.
"By all means," she agreed, ducking out from under Remington's arm, as Thomas took the place in her stead. "And maybe you can talk some sense into your hardheaded son."
"Not hardheaded, Lau-ra," he drew out her name. "Determined."
"Determined to fall on your—" She didn't finish the sentence when Remington tsked at her.
"The image, Mrs. Steele, the image," he censured, as she pushed open the door to his room. She threw up her hands.
"Why? Why do I put up with you?" she grumbled.
"You know the answer to that question," he smirked, as he lowered himself with some effort to sit on the couch. She couldn't help her snort of laughter or the smile that appeared on her face.
"Keep it up, buster, and I may regain my sanity," she retorted, as she sat down next to him, reaching for his hand and tangling their fingers. The thought that only a few days before she didn't know if they'd ever be able to engage in such quips again, left her blinking her eyes for a moment and rubbing the back of his finger… where his ring should be. He squeezed her hand acknowledging he'd noticed the reaction and signifying they'd take care of that matter later when they were alone. With an answering squeeze of her hand, she turned her attention to the man seated across from them.
"Thomas, your son has some news for you," she told him, opening the door for her husband. Remington wiped his free hand at his face.
"Forgive me, I don't think I've ever been quite this nervous," Remington apologized. Thomas noticeably tensed at his words.
"Has… Has something gone wrong in your recovery?"
"No, no, not at all. A bit of good news, actually," Remington assured the man. Taking a deep breath, he decided on a whim that if he were going to make this type of announcement, he may as well bite the bullet on another matter. "It seems you'll be a grandfather come October, Father." Laura's head jerked towards him, that dimple appearing again as she squeezed his hand in approval. They then both watched as Thomas first held a hand to his mouth, then reached for his handkerchief and wiped at the moisture which fell from his eyes.
"Pardon me. I'm sorry," Thomas apologized. "It's just I thought I'd never…" With a sharp nod of his head, he fought to regain his composure, then pushed to his feet. Taking Laura by the hand, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in an embrace before bussing her on the cheek. "Congratulations." Releasing her, he leaned down and gave Remington a hug, made awkward by their positions. "Truly wonderful news."
Now, as he and Laura lay in bed together, Remington continued to ruminate on the moment.
"It's been an emotional week for him… month, actually," Laura reminded him. "First, he's finally able to claim you as his own, at the risk of losing you all together because of the deceptions. Then… Anna. Now, not only finding out he's about to be a grandfather, but to hear his son call him 'father' for the first time? He loves you, Mr. Steele." She tilted her head back to look at him, while tracing his jaw with two fingers. "I imagine you'll feel much the same the first time our child calls you 'Da.'"
"Laura, you act as though I'm a sentimental fool," he admonished lightly. Pressing up on her elbow, she leaned down and caressed his lips with hers. When she ended the kiss, her eyes met his.
"You? Never." Moving his right arm tentatively, he hooked his finger through the chain at her neck, so her locket and his ring rested against his hand.
"I think it's about time we return this to where it belongs, eh?"
Sitting up, she unhooked the necklace and dropped the ring in her hand before refastening it around her neck. When the ring rested at the base of his finger again, she pressed her lips to his palm. His hand slipped away, to bury itself in her hair. Come here, he mouthed silently. Smiling, she leaned down and lay her lips against his, allowing him to take lead. She tasted his contented sigh as he settled in to nibble, then brush his lips against hers, gradually increasing the pressure, deepening the kiss. He hummed, contentedly when she willing opened to him after a teasing touch of the tip of his tongue to her lips and her fingers threaded through his hair. Memories of the years when she'd rarely permit him such latitude, combined with her sweet taste and gentle touch, left him clutching her to him, taking the kiss into dangerous territory. Laying her hand against his chest, she pried her lips away, her breath coming in short gasps, eyes dazed by desire.
"Do you remember what you told me on the plane when we were flying to Greece?" she asked him breathily. He frowned, trying to recall what specifically she was referencing, then his mind clicked on it.
"You're not in any condition for what you're setting in motion, love."
"Awww," he grunted.
"Sorry, big guy." Patting him on the chest, she lay down again, this time on her back. Lifting his hand, she traced his palm with her fingertips.
"Mmmmm," he hummed. "It's been some time since you've done that." Her brows raised in surprise and she looked at him.
"Has it?"
"It has." He shifted slightly, trying to ease the ache in his side a bit. "Frances was happy with the news, eh?" She gave a sharp bark of laughter. Frances had, in fact, been beside herself.
"Oh, my. Are you kidding me, Laura?" She'd stared at her little sister, then the tears had started. "You're going to have a baby? I just can't believe it! I'd all but given up on you ever getting married and now this! What have you done with my baby sister?"
"Frances, I don't know why you're so surprised," Laura answered, shaking her head ruefully as the two men sat by and watched. She held a hand out, palm up. "Just last year I told you I'd like to have a family of my own someday." That caught Remington's attention.
"Don't you think I'd like to have a family of my own someday? I'm just like any other woman out there, trying to make the pieces fit."
"Oh? And exactly who were you thinking of having this mythical family with, dare I ask?" Laura turned her head and looked at him as though he'd gone mad.
"You don't really think I'll give you the satisfaction of answering that question, do you?" she asked, dismissing the question.
"Honestly, I thought you were just trying to placate me," Frances answered, before turning on the waterworks again. "A baby!" She grabbed Laura and gave her a hug, nearly yanking her off the bed where she sat next to Remington. "You're going to let me host your baby shower, aren't you, Laura?"
"Baby shower?" Laura repeated, giving Remington a wide-eyed look, a silent request for help.
"Ah, yes," he cleared his throat. "There is one more thing that needs to be mentioned. Or should I say a question that needs to be asked." All eyes turned to him. "We were hoping you do us the honor of agreeing to be the guardian of our child should anything…" He let the rest of the question stand for itself, given recent events. Donald cleared his throat, while Frances began to cry in earnest.
"It would be our privilege," Donald answered for the two of them, reaching across Laura to shake Remington's hand, then kissing Laura on the cheek before taking Frances in his arms and trying to calm her.
Now, as they lay in bed, a single finger tracing the lines in his palm, the couple laughed. It had certainly been a chaotic day, but it had felt good… very good.
