THE MOMMY MIRACLE
Silhouette Special Edition
August 2011 US

“I don’t think she’s ready yet.” The words floated up through Jodie’s open bedroom window from the back deck.

“Oh, I agree! She’s not!”

No one in the Palmer family ever thought Jodie was ready. She sat on her bed, struggling to raise her left arm high enough to push her hand through the strap on her summery, sparkly, brand-new tank top. The hand wouldn’t go, which meant she couldn’t start the long journey down the stairs to join the July Fourth family barbecue as the – not her idea - guest of honor.

She pushed again, the feeble muscle refusing to obey the muddy signal from her brain. It was noon, time for everyone to start arriving. “So I guess they’re right. I’m not ready,” she muttered, but she knew this wasn’t what her sister Lisa’s comment had meant.

It had meant Not Ready, capital N, capital R, and during Jodie’s twenty-nine years had covered everything from her learning the shocking truth about the Easter Bunny at the age of seven, to going out on her first date at fifteen. She vaguely remembered from last summer, about a hundred years ago, that Elin had even questioned her readiness to see Orlando Bloom’s wedding photos in a magazine – and, admit it, she had been a little envious of the bride.

What wasn’t she ready for this time?

It could be anything. Going back to work?

Well, yes, she knew she wouldn’t be doing that for a while, since she managed and taught at a riding barn for a living and spent hours in the saddle every week at Oakbank Stables.

Reading the police report on the accident scene? Might never be ready for that one. Fixing her own coffee? Wrong, sisters. She’d been practising in rehab and, not to sound arrogant or anything, she was dynamite when it came to spooning the granules out of the jar.

“Guys?” she called out to her sisters. “Can I have some help up here?”

From down on the deck she heard an exclamation, voices, the scrape of chairs. Lisa and Elin both appeared half a minute later, flinging the bedroom door back on its hinges with a slam, wearing frightened looks to complement their red, white and blue patriotic earrings.

“It’s okay,” she told them. “You can put the defibrillator down and cancel the 911 call. I just can’t get my arm into this top, that’s all, and I know people will start arriving any second.”

“Maddy and John just drove up,” Lisa confirmed. “And Devlin was right behind them.”

“Devlin’s coming?” Jodie’s heart bumped sideways against her ribs. Dev. Every time she saw Dev…

There was an odd little silence. Possibly there was. It ended so quickly that she wasn’t even sure if it had happened.

“He’s been so great, hasn’t he?” Lisa said brightly. “How many times did he go in to see you, while you were in the hospital?”

“You tell me,” Jodie joked. “I was unconscious for most of them.”

“Do you remember anything from that time?” Elin asked, hesitant. At forty, she was the eldest of the four Palmer girls, and managed to be both the bossiest and the most nurturing at the same time. “The doctors said you might retain some memories, even from when you weren’t responsive.”

She and Lisa both stood there waiting for her reply, almost holding their breath. Jodie fought a bad-tempered impulse to yell at them to stop the heck worrying about her so much, dammit!

Instead she said carefully, “I wouldn’t call them memories…”

“No…?” prompted Lisa.

“But let’s not talk about it now. Help me downstairs. I’m so slow. My brain sends the instructions but bits of my body don’t respond. I’m thrilled I managed to get into the jeans.”

Thirty-eight year old Lisa, sister number two, hugged Jodie suddenly with a warm, tight squeeze, and planted a smacking kiss on her cheek. Of the four Palmer girls, she and Jodie were physically the most alike, blonde and athletic, outdoorsy and lean. Lisa liked tennis and the beach and it had started to show in her tanned skin. She didn’t take care of it the way she should. Hugging her back, Jodie decided she’d have to give Lisa a sisterly lecture about that, soon, because Palmer over-protectiveness could cut both ways.

The slight, strange tension in the room seemed to have gone, chased by the hug. “Honey, forget slow, we’re just so happy you’re okay,” Lisa said. “Talking. Walking. Getting better every day. Home.”

“I know.” Jodie blinked back sudden tears as they let each other go. “Me, too.”

Devlin Browne was standing on the deck when she reached it, his dark hair showing reddish glints in the sun, his body tall and strong, no evidence of the accident that had injured the two of them in such different ways, nine months ago. He grinned at the sight of her, from behind his sunglasses. “Look at you!” She wished she could see the expression in his blue eyes. He ran his life with such quiet confidence and certainty. She loved that about him, wished right now that some of it would rub off on her.

“Yeah,” she drawled in reply, “All the grace of a ballerina.”

With a walking frame for a dance partner. The doctors and therapists had promised that if she worked hard, she’d be rid of it soon. She planned to astonish them with her progress.

“Don’t knock it,” Dev said. “Compared to how you were even a week ago.”

“I know. I’m not knocking it, believe me.” She felt so self-conscious in his presence, so aware of the strong length of his body. Nine months and more since those three explosive nights of love-making, but to her they felt like yesterday. The way their bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly. The smell of him, warm and fresh and male. The words he’d whispered to her in the dark, naked and blunt and charged with sensual heat. Did he ever think about it?

Lisa helped her to sit down and took away the frame, while Elin handed her an ice cold glass of tropical juice. The deck was dappled with sun and shade, and there was a breeze. It was a perfect day. Dev pulled up an Adirondack chair to sit beside her. He leaned against the wooden seat back, casually stretched his arms. But his mood wasn’t as casual as he wanted her to think. His gaze seemed intently focused behind those concealing sunglasses, and she didn’t know if his sitting so close was significant.

Were they dating?

Could she ask?

Um, excuse me, Dev, I was in a coma for nearly eight months, and rehab since. Can you just catch me up on the current status of our relationship?