All She Ever Wanted Read Free

Lunch with friends. She probably had time to read books and soak in the tub with those amazing scents.
    â€œOh, look at you!” Val fussed. “Such a beautiful baby, and you know it, too! Yes, you do.”
    Chelsea didn’t think Annabelle was so beautiful, with her flaky cradle cap and chubby jowls. Why did people always say that?
    â€œAnd with your pink little booties I can tell you’re a girl. What’s her name?”
    â€œAnnabelle.”
    â€œA name almost as pretty as you.”
    Annabelle’s eyes opened wide in response to Val.
    â€œOh, aren’t you yummy?” Val shot Chelsea a look. “Do you mind if I hold her? It’s been so long since I had a little one.”
    Chelsea nodded and stood back as the woman lifted her baby in her capable arms. Sometimes it reassured her to see other people give her baby the love she couldn’t find in her own heart. She imagined Annabelle’s senses coming alive to the sweet perfume, her fears and muscles easing in the nest of warm, capable arms.
    â€œYou are cute as a button,” Val cooed. “But you don’t belong in this big doctor’s office. Mommy needs to get a sitter.”
    â€œBut it’s just an office visit,” Chelsea said. “A consultation. I’m not due for an exam.”
    Val shrugged. “He doesn’t want the babies in here. Next time, you really need to leave her with a sitter.”
    One more expense that wasn’t in their budget. Since Chelsea had left her job at the magazine, they were living on one salary and there was no room for any extras now.
    â€œWho’s the cutest baby here?” Val cajoled. “Who is? Who is?”
    Annabelle’s eyes lit with interest as she pressed a little fist to a chubby cheek. They seemed to like each other, Annabelle and Val. And Chelsea was the outsider, watching them through binoculars. Why was she a million miles away from her own baby?
    The door behind them opened and a nurse appeared, chart in hand. “Chelsea Maynard?”
    â€œThat’s me.” Chelsea’s back ached as she took Annabelle from the woman and leaned down to place her in the stroller.
    â€œDon’t forget to buckle her in,” Val said. “We don’t want any mishaps.”
    Like the baby slipping out, her head thumping as it hit the floor.
    No, that wouldn’t happen . . . but she might bump it on the wheel.
    Or if she fell out in the parking lot, the impact on the concrete might draw blood.
    Chelsea closed her eyes against the horrible images that flooded her mind. Why did she let herself go there? Such sick, horrifying scenarios of the terrible things that could happen.
    â€œLet me help.” The nurse reached down and clicked the clasp on Annie’s seat belt. More a means of moving Chelsea along than an act of kindness, but Chelsea nodded gratefully, then pushed the stroller inside.
    The office was a tired room that aspired to be a paneled library in an English manor house. Only here, the paneling was the prefab kind and the built-in shelving was no more than kitchen cabinets with a walnut stain. Chelsea assessed the quickest and cheapest way to make the room over as Dr. Volmer went over her chart, grunting out a few questions now and then.
    A coat of paint could open this room up and give it a more modern look. A buttery yellow, or a more neutral pearl gray. Silver mist. Were there decent walls under the paneling? Chelsea’s fingers itched to pry one loose and take a peek. If necessary, the paneling could be painted. . . .
    She hadn’t expected that she would miss her job at the magazine, but it was hard to back away from an occupation when you knew you were so damned good at it. Granted, she had plenty of projects of her own waiting back at the house, and the managing editor was hoping she would freelance for the magazine, either by editing or turning one of her projects into a “how to” feature. But that