Carmen went home early on Friday afternoons, and Alex had dinner ready when Sam got home, later than usual, at seven. She had already fed Annabelle by then, and he opted to wait to eat until Annabelle went to bed, which sounded good to Alex too. And at eight-fifteen, they were sitting in the kitchen eating fish and baked potatoes and salad, and he was telling her about his lunch with the Englishman, who had impressed him a lot more this time.
“You know, I'm actually feeling very positive about him. I think I was just worrying unduly. Larry and Tom are right. The guy is a whiz, and he could bring us some fantastic business from the Middle East. You can't ignore that, even if he is a little flashy.”
“And if he doesn't bring in business from the Middle East?” she asked cautiously.
“He will. You should hear his client list from Saudi alone.”
“And will they follow him here?” Alex was playing devil's advocate, but Sam didn't mind it. He felt comfortable now about the new man, and he had green-lighted the decision to take him in as a fourth partner. “Are you sure, Sam? You were so worried about him yesterday. Maybe you ought to trust that.”
“I think I was being hysterical. Honestly, Alex, I talked to the guy for three hours today …he's the real thing. I know it. We're going to make billions,” he said confidently.
“Don't be greedy,” she scolded with a grin. “Does this mean we can buy a chateau in the South of France?”
“No, but possibly a town house in New York, and an estate on Long Island.”
“We don't need that,” she said easily, and he smiled. He didn't need it either but he liked being the whiz kid of the financial world. It meant a lot to him. He liked the acclaim he had gotten from being brilliant with venture capital. His reputation and his success meant a lot to him, as well as his profits, which was why she thought he should be very careful about their new partner. But she trusted his judgment. And if the Englishman had convinced him, she was prepared to accept that.
“How did your meetings go this morning?” he asked her. “All set for your trial next week?” He took a strong interest in her work too. Until Annabelle had come along, it was what had energized their life together.
“As much as I'm going to be. I think we'll be okay. I hope so. My client really deserves to win this one.”
“He will, with you defending him,” Sam said confidently, and she leaned over and kissed him. He looked handsome in a red sweater and jeans. He always looked good to her, better and better lately.
“What did Anderson say, by the way?”
“Not much. We ran through all the possibilities again. Pergonal still scares me, Serophene still makes me nuts, and no one wants to do in vitro on a forty-two-year-old woman, although he said some will. We talked about donor eggs, which don't appeal to me at all, and he said we might want to try artificial insemination of your sperm next month. He says sometimes that makes all the difference. I didn't know how you'd feel about it,” she said it almost shyly, and he smiled.
“I can live with it if I have to. I can think of better ways to have fun than playing with myself and reading dirty magazines, but if that'll do the trick, let's try it.”
“You're amazing. I really love you.” She kissed him, and he kissed her hard. But the test still hadn't been blue that afternoon, so they couldn't go too far.
“What about this weekend?”
“He said go for it, whenever it turns blue. It hasn't yet, but I'm pretty sure it will tomorrow. It was almost there today. And he made me have a mammogram, just in case I get pregnant. Because he said that if I get pregnant, I wouldn't be having one for another year or two. It was a pain in the neck, and I had to have Carmen pick Annabelle up at school, but it was no big deal. It just seems so weird, and suddenly you realize that people do get bad results, and that scared the hell out of me.”
“But the results were fine, right?” He looked suddenly uncomfortable, and she smiled reassuringly.
“I'm sure they were. They don't tell you right there. They'll call him next week. They can only tell you if the radiologist is around, and he wasn't. But he had checked me for lumps and I didn't have any. It was just routine. High maintenance, as they call it.”
“Does it hurt?” He sounded curious, and somewhat horrified.
“Not really. They squash your boob in a machine, as flat as they can, and take pictures of it. There's something vaguely degrading about it, but I'm not sure why. You feel kind of vulnerable and stupid. I couldn't wait to leave. I'd never been so happy to see Annabelle in my life. I guess it's a reminder that things do go wrong, those things do happen to someone, and you're damn lucky when it's not you. The reminders of that are pretty scary.”
“Forget about it. Nothing like that is going to happen to you,” he said decisively, and helped her clear the table. They had a little wine, watched a movie on TV, and went to bed earlier than usual. They'd both had a hard week, and she wanted to get some rest before she became fertile over the weekend. And just as she had thought, she discovered that the kit had turned blue the next day. She knew before noon, and she whispered it to Sam over a late breakfast. Carmen took Annabelle to the park, and Sam and Alex went back to bed and made love. And she stayed in bed for over an hour after that, with her bottom propped up on pillows. She had read somewhere that that might help, and was willing to try almost anything. But she was still looking sleepy and satisfied, when Sam came back for a cuddle with her just before lunchtime.
“You going to stay in bed all day?” he teased her, nuzzling her neck with his lips, and sending another thrill through her.
“With that kind of incentive, I just might.”
“When do we get to play again?” He was as fervent about it as she was.
“Anytime tomorrow.”
“Can we try again this afternoon?” he asked huskily, and she laughed as he kissed her. “I think we need more practice.” But they both knew that they weren't “supposed” to do it again until the next day. “Anyway, just concentrate on making a baby,” Sam whispered to her, and then went off to shower and dress, while she dozed off again for a few minutes.
Ten minutes later, she joined him in the shower, and he was startled and aroused to feel her just behind him. It was agony forcing themselves not to make love again. The temptation was great, and they had always enjoyed each other's bodies. It was hard to restrain themselves now sometimes, just for the sake of maintaining his “sperm count.”
“Maybe we should forget all this and just become sex fiends again …” he breathed into her ear, as he held her close to him in the shower, feeling the warm water pelt down on them, as little rivers of it snuck into their mouths as he kissed her. “I love you so much …”
“Me too …” she said hungrily, as she felt him throbbing against her stomach. “Sam … I want you….”
“No … no … no …” he said, teasing her, in a hoarse voice, as he turned the cold water on full force on both of them, and she screamed in astonishment as it hit her, and then she laughed as they both leapt out of the shower.
They were wearing jeans and sitting sedately in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the paper when Carmen and Annabelle came home. Carmen made them all lunch, and Sam and Alex took Annabelle to the park that afternoon, and they all went to dinner at J. G. Melon that night. It was fun doing that sometimes on the weekends. And on Sunday, they rode their bicycles in the park, and Sam put Annabelle in the little seat on the back of his, as they rode around the reservoir. It was a beautiful warm day, and on Sunday night they all agreed that it had been the perfect weekend.
As soon as they put Annabelle to bed, and they knew she was asleep, Sam locked the door to their bedroom, and slowly peeled away Alex's clothes until she stood before him like a long, elegant flower, one perfect, exquisite lily. He made love to her as he had before, with all the force of his need, and his lust, and his passion. She was a woman who brought many things out in him, all things that only made him love and want her more. Sometimes he felt as though
he couldn't love her more, but there was always a surge, a moment, a floodgate that opened somewhere and drowned them both with his feelings.
“Wow …if I don't get pregnant after that, I give up …” she whispered weakly afterwards, as she lay with her head on his chest, and he gently stroked one of her breasts with enticing fingers.
“I love you, Alex …”he said softly, turning over to look at her. She was so beautiful. So perfect. She always had been.
“I love you too, Sam … I love you more …” she teased, and he smiled and shook his head.
“You couldn't.”
They kissed again, and lay entwined on their bed, not even sure anymore if it mattered if they made a baby.
Chapter 4
On Monday morning, Alex got up before Annabelle or Sam, and she was dressed when she woke them both up, and breakfast was already on the table, and in the oven. She helped Annabelle dress, as usual, but Sam had promised to take her to school. Alex wanted to get to the office early. She had a mountain of things to do, and final details to prepare for the trial on Wednesday. And she had also scheduled a meeting with Matthew Billings to discuss several cases. Brock Stevens was going to be working with her all day, along with both of their paralegals.
“I'll probably be home late,” she explained to Sam, and he understood, although Annabelle looked sad when her mother told her.
“Why?” she asked, with her huge green eyes turned up to her mother's. She hated it when Alex came home late, and Alex didn't seem to like it either.
“I have a trial to get ready for, sweetheart. You know, when I go to court and talk to the judge.”
“Can't you just call him on the phone?” Annabelle looked very unhappy, and Alex smiled at her, and gave her a kiss and a hug, and promised to come home as early as she could possibly manage.
”I'll call you when you come home from school. Have a good day, sweetheart, and have fun in school. Promise?” She touched her chin and turned the sweet little face up to her, and Annabelle nodded, her huge eyes looking into her mother's. “What about my Halloween costume?”
“I'll check it out today, I promise.” She felt so torn, so pulled sometimes, between her family life and her career. It made her wonder how she would manage two children instead of one, but other people seemed to do it.
She put on her coat and slipped out of the apartment quietly, it was only seven-thirty in the morning. And the cab ride down Park was speedy at that hour. She was in her office by a quarter to eight, and she felt a little tug at her heart as she thought of Annabelle and Sam having breakfast without her. But by eight o'clock, she was hard at work, and Brock Stevens had just brought her coffee. And by ten-thirty she was reassured, they really were fairly well prepared for Jack Schultz's defense on Wednesday.
“What about everything else?” she asked Brock distractedly, as she went down a list of other projects she needed him to work on. He had already taken care of most of them, but she had had a number of new ideas over the weekend. And she was just outlining them to him when Elizabeth Hascomb hesitantly opened the door to her office, and peeked in at them. But the moment Alex saw her, she shook her head and put up a hand to stop her. She didn't want any interruptions. Her phone was turned off and she had already told Liz not to come in or interrupt her.
Liz hesitated at the door, in spite of Alex's stern look, and Brock turned to see what was distracting Alex.
“Something wrong?” Maybe it was an emergency, but Alex looked very annoyed at the interruption.
“Liz, I asked you not to interrupt us.” Her tone was sharper than usual, but the pressure on her was enormous.
“I know …I …I'm terribly sorry but …” She spoke to Alex apologetically from the doorway.
“Did something happen to Annabelle or Sam?” For a moment, Alex looked terrified, but Liz was quick to shake her head and reassure her. “Then I don't want to hear it.” Alex turned away again, fully prepared to ignore her.
“Dr. Anderson called. Twice. He asked me to interrupt you.”
“Anderson? For heaven's sake …” Now Alex looked really annoyed. He had told her he would call her either way about the mammogram, and he was probably calling to reassure her. But asking to interrupt her was a real imposition. “He can wait. I'll call him when we break for lunch, if we do. Otherwise, I'll call him later.”
“He said he wanted to talk to you this morning. Before noon.” It was already eleven-thirty, and Liz was being a nuisance. But Dr. Anderson had insisted that it was very important, and well worth annoying Alex. So Liz had taken him at his word, and remained steadfast in her delivery of his message. But Alex looked anything but pleased. She felt sure that the call was just routine, and it wasn't worth throwing everyone into a tizzy for. For an instant, as she looked at Liz, she wondered if it could be bad news, but the idea of that was so inconceivable that she went back to being irritated instead of worried.
“I'll call him when I can. Thank you, Liz,” she said pointedly, and went back to the list she was explaining to Brock, but now he was looking distracted.
“Why don't you call him, Alex? It must be important for him to ask Liz to interrupt you.”
“Don't be silly. We have work to do.”
“I could use another cup of coffee anyway. Ill get you one too, while you call him. I'm sure it'll only take you a couple of minutes.” She was prepared to resist, but it was clear now that Liz had so unnerved everyone that none of them would get back to work until she called her doctor.
“Oh for heaven's sake. This is ridiculous. Okay …get me a fresh cup, please. I'll see everyone back here in five minutes.” It was eleven thirty-five, and eleven-forty by the time he and the paralegals cleared the room. They were wasting precious minutes. They had work to do. She watched them close the door behind them as they left, and she quickly called her doctor, anxious to get the conversation over quickly.
His receptionist answered the phone, and promised to put her right through to the doctor. The wait seemed interminable, as much because she had other things to do as because she was suddenly nervous. What if it was bad news? She felt foolish for even thinking it, but it was possible. Lightning had certainly struck others before her.
“Alex?” Dr. Anderson was on the line, and he sounded as busy as she did.
“Hi, John. What's so important?”
“I'd like you to stop by at lunchtime, if you could.” His voice gave away nothing.
“That's impossible. I'm going to trial in two days, and I have a stack of things to do. I've been in my office since seven forty-five this morning, and I probably won't leave here till ten o'clock tonight. Can we discuss it on the phone?”
“I'd rather not. I really think you should come in to see me.” Shit. What did this mean? She found that suddenly her hand was shaking.
“Is something wrong?” She couldn't bring herself to say the word, but she finally knew she had to. “Is it the mammogram?” She didn't have any lumps, so how could it be? But he hesitated for a long time before he answered.
“I'd like to discuss it with you.” It was obvious that he didn't want to do this over the phone, and she was suddenly afraid to force him.
“How much time do you need?” She was glancing at her watch, and trying to assess how much time she could afford. At lunchtime, even the traffic would be against her.
“Half an hour? I'd like to spend a little time talking to you. Could you come right now? I just saw my last patient of the morning. I've got a woman at the hospital, and I have a patient in early labor. This would probably be as good a time as any.”
“I'll be there in five or ten minutes,” she said tersely, standing as she prepared to hang up. Her heart was suddenly racing. This couldn't be good. But now she wanted to know, whatever it was. Maybe they had confused her results with someone else's.
“Thank you, Alex. I'll be as quick as I can.”
“I'll be right over.”
Alex sped past Liz, carrying her handbag and her coat, Brock and th
e others weren't even back yet. “Tell them to get something to eat, I'll be back in forty-five minutes.” She was halfway to the elevator by then, and Liz shouted after her down the hallway.
“Are you all right?”
“I'm fine. Order me a turkey sandwich.” And as Liz watched her disappear down the hall, she wondered if she might be pregnant. She knew they wanted more kids, and John Anderson was her obstetrician.
But Alex knew full well that it wasn't that, as she rode uptown in a cab, agonizing over why he had called her. It had to be the mammogram, and then suddenly she thought of it. It wasn't the mammogram, it was the Pap smear. Shit. She had cancer of the cervix. How would she get pregnant now? Although she had a number of friends who had had treatments using freezing techniques or laser beams applied to precancerous conditions, and had still managed to get pregnant. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she feared, all she wanted to know was that her life wasn't in danger and she could still get pregnant.
The cab reached his office in record time, and she hurried inside to the empty waiting room. They were expecting her and they waved her straight through to his office. He was wearing a suit, instead of his white coat, and he looked unexpectedly serious when he saw her.
“Hi, John, how are you?” She was a little out of breath from hurrying and from the anticipation of seeing him, and she sat down in a chair with her coat on.
“Thank you for coming. But I really thought you should. I wanted to talk to you myself, in person.”
“Was it the Pap smear?” she asked, feeling her heart speed up again. And the palms of her hands were damp as she clutched her handbag. But he was shaking his head.
“No, it isn't. It's the mammogram.” But it couldn't be. She had no lumps, no bumps, no problems. He reached down then and put a piece of film on the light box behind him. He pointed to a frontal view, and then put another film up with a side view. It all looked very mysterious to her, like a weather map of Atlanta. He turned then to look at her, with a look of painful importance. “There's a mass there,” he pointed to it, and only because he showed her where it was could she see it. “It's very large and quite deep. It could be a number of things, but the radiologist and I are very worried.”
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