by Fran Louise
“Sleep okay?”
I stretched my limbs, unable to suppress a smile. “Yeah.”
“You look like you slept well,” he said, and his voice was warm. His eyes narrowed against the sun as he searched out my face. “I was going to head into town for supplies, but we can go together if you like. Maybe get some breakfast there.”
“Just now?” I brushed my tousled hair behind my ears.
His brows lifted as he considered my body again. “Unless you’d rather stay in bed. We can get supplies this afternoon.”
The loaded meaning behind his words caused a vacuum of air between us. Taking a shaky breath, my eyes widening on him, I took a moment to consider the offer. Like a ripple of delicious flavor in an otherwise plain ice-cream, illicit pleasure streaked through my waking mind.
He laughed, but it was light and strained. “Jesus ... don’t look at me like that, sweetheart. We’d better get some talking done before we complicate things any worse.”
Embarrassment filled me. God, I was an easy target. Where Nathan was concerned, anyway. He knew it, and I knew it.
He approached me. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than spend all day in bed with you. You know that, right?” he asked. Stopping by my side, he brushed a hand through my hair, clasping my neck and then pulling me into a hug. “I’m trying to be responsible.”
I smiled despite myself at his reluctant admission. I was supposed to be the responsible one, not that I’d been doing a great job of that recently. Burrowing my face against the fragrant softness of his sweater, I let my arms encircle his waist, felt them slide down and cup his bottom. “I know – I’m sorry,” I said. I breathed in his scent deeply. I wanted to stay right here forever. My voice was muffled when I spoke again. “You should know, before we go any further that I’m a hormonal mess.”
He chuckled. “But you smell good.”
“I need a shower.”
He smacked my bottom suddenly. Pulling back, he took me by the hand and pulled me towards the bathroom. “Okay – shower,” he ordered. “Get ready and let’s get out here before I lose this very vague sense of control.”
Half an hour later, hair-washed and body scrubbed clean under jeans and a padded jacket, I sat quietly in the car beside Nathan as he pulled out of the driveway. Quiet because I was stunned into silence by the beauty of the surroundings. I was content to sit back and just enjoy it, something I rarely did in life. All day I was on the go, out there in the world scrabbling around for what I needed as though a clock were ticking somewhere. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt this sense of timelessness. My eyes narrowed against the mistruth; actually, I could remember. It had been the last time Nathan and I were together.
I glanced at him. He was relaxed and yet distracted at the wheel. I marveled for a moment at how well he lived in the present; he always had. The rigid construction of my world just slipped away when I was with him. It had happened the first time I’d met him, straight out of my second year of college. He’d been on the campus managing a gig with the band as it had been then, and when I’d been introduced to him after the show, suddenly I’d forgotten about exams and expectations and competitions; I’d simply let go. I’d gone on tour with him and his band throughout the rest of the eastern seaboard, taking each day as it came. It wasn’t that he became my focus, but rather his outlook on life had become mine. I’d started living outside of my head for the first time, and it had been a miraculous discovery of the world around me. He’d opened up my life and made me appreciate what was there right in front of me, instead of always focusing on what I wanted. That was Nathan; it was the secret to his staggering success, a secret that very few people understood.
“What?” he asked, interrupting my weighty memories. He turned and his eyes were warm. His hair gleamed in the sun; he hadn’t shaved again that morning and his jaw was dark. “Are you looking at me or the view?”
I shrugged, deciding it was safer not to answer.
He inhaled and exhaled slowly. Eyes back on the road, he tapped the steering wheel distractedly with a tapered finger. “How are things at work?” he asked. He glanced at me again, more serious now. “Have you found out about this partner thing yet?”
“Not yet. Soon.” I swallowed and turned away. The familiar sense of anxiety returned, more painful than ever. I fought against it, trying to compartmentalize my thoughts. “I was thinking about selling my apartment, buying something on the Upper East, closer to the office.”
He considered this for a moment. “Not the cheapest part of town. Didn’t you just buy the one you’re in?”
“I’ll be able to afford something better once they make me partner.” The anxiety fluttered stubbornly against my throat. “There’s only me and one other associate partner left in the running. He’s less experienced; I’m pretty sure I’ve got it in the bag.”
“Not a great time to be having a baby, then,” he said.
I glanced at him. My throat was tight. “No.”
He took his eyes off the road momentarily. They were dark on me, unreadable.
Turning away, I stared out at the trees. They flitted past in a blur. I could feel the waves of ambivalence crashing against me. There was nothing I wanted more, nothing I worked for harder in my life, than this partnership at Hindley & Jones. So why, if that was the case, did I experience a jagged anxiety every time I thought about it?
I analyzed the feeling, trying to pin it down. It was just yearning, surely? Everything was so nearly in my grasp! This partnership would be the culmination of fifteen years of hard work and sacrifice. I didn’t even want to begin to think of the things I’d already given up to get this far. I’d fought bitterly to push aside the competition. I’d worked hard, sure – harder than the competition – but I’d also had to outmaneuver them, and sometimes that had meant doing things that went against my values and beliefs. I’d rationalized it all knowing that I was aiming for a greater good. It was inconceivable to imagine I’d worked this hard, and come so close, only to slip back down the ladder. To step back now… how could I justify the sacrifices I’d made if I didn’t get the partnership?
The car stopped. Jolted out of my own headspace, I turned to him in surprise. We were parked in a wooded lane, just off the winding road. The silence was only punctuated by a smattering of birdsong and the rustling of dry leaves.
Nathan blew the hair from his forehead with a sharp breath. “We need to talk,” he said. He turned his stern profile away from me. He seemed to be searching for words in the densely packed trees.
I waited, scarcely able to breathe. I had no idea what was coming, but the sense of forbidding was incapacitating. He was leaning one elbow against the window, his other arm draped across the wheel. His whole body was angled away from me. He looked as though he would bolt from the car if I as much as touched him. Tension snaked down my neck, forcing me to turn to the front and take a deep breath.
Was he going to suggest an abortion? Did he think that was what I wanted? He’d never given any indication of wanting a family, not once in all the years I’d known him, but it occurred to me I had no idea what his position was on that at this stage in his life. I glanced at him. What did he want?
What did I want?
My nerve endings clattered like tin cans against concrete. I needed to get my life back; Nathan needed to get his life back. We weren’t destined to be together, or we would have decided this a long time ago. I could be back in the office, back to my old life, within a couple of weeks. I could be partner within six months. It was all there for the taking, and all I needed to do it properly was Nathan’s unsolicited consent. Why was I so terrified, when it was all within my grasp?
He turned back to me. The frown across his eyes could have cut steel. His gaze bore into me, pinioning me to the seat. Even though he was looking at me, his body remained stiff and angled defensively away. He was regarding me as though I was something dangerous, something that might suddenly attack him. Bewilderment filled
me, and hot on its heels, a scalding flood of guilt. It was so strong, and so unexpected that I experienced a wave of tearful emotion.
“I want to have this baby.”
Chapter Four
The air in the car seemed to suck the words up like a vacuum. The inside of my head rang deafeningly loud. I wasn’t even sure who had said the words, so I said, “What?” into the ringing silence.
“I want us to have this baby,” he repeated.
The now clear words clanged inside my head like a gong. Their implication caused a crashing aftershock. Dumbfounded, I stared at him. All of the questions I couldn’t quite form creased my expression. A flicker of panic vibrated low in my stomach.
“We can do this,” he said. His tone and expression gave all the signs of composure, even if his body language was still on the offensive. “I realize we’ll have to make sacrifices-”
“We?” The word blasted from me like a bullet from a gun.
He flinched and recovered. “Yes, we,” he said, his tone reasonable. “I realize you’ll be carrying the baby, but we’ll both be raising it-”
I jerked the seatbelt out of the buckle and yanked the door open. Cool air swarmed around me as I fought the sudden onset of nausea.
“Are you ill?”
“I’m-” I turned to face him at the other side of the car. “No, Nate: I’m pregnant! I’m…” I was what? Lost? Confused? Dealing with this pregnancy afresh now that Nathan had suddenly made it all terrifyingly real?
I stared at him, unable to believe this was actually happening. The same, familiar handsome face stared back at me, but there was a strange gravity behind it that I hadn’t noticed before. It rendered him almost unrecognizable.
He shut his door and came round to my side of the car. He didn’t approach me, but instead leaned against the hood. There was maybe a meter and a half between us. “This has happened, Chloe,” he said slowly. “You can’t pretend it’s a minor blip you can shove under the carpet and forget about. I want to have this baby-”
“But why?” I was almost wailing. “You were as shocked as I was yesterday!”
“And I’ve given it some thought since then. It’s made everything else seem...” He sighed. “... inconsequential, that’s why.” His tone was defensive. “Now that I’ve really taken the time to think about it, I realize this is what I want. It’s more important than anything else I can think of. I don’t understand why you don’t feel the same way-”
“My life isn’t inconsequential! That’s why!” I said.
“That’s not what I meant.” He crossed his arms tightly over his chest. Still his gaze bore me down. His expression looked almost pained as he searched for a way to express himself. “This isn’t a sacrifice at all. It’s a gift.”
Humorless laughter bubbled hysterically in my chest. “A gift?” I cried. I felt my expression crumble. “This isn’t some movie of the week! Or a stupid greeting card! We’re talking about bringing a real, live human being into the world.”
His expression told my very clearly that he was aware of that. It didn’t faze him.
Acid rose in my throat; I felt anger or desperation, or maybe both. “I’m the one who has to put my career on hold to have this baby, not you!”I said, trying to control my quaking voice. “I know enough about pregnancy to know I won’t be able to keep the hours I’m doing just now when I’m six months gone. And they’ll be expecting a hell of a lot more from me once I’m a partner. How am I supposed to juggle that with a newborn?” I turned away on a gasp of frustration. “Forget that! I’ll be showing long before the final decision is made. As soon as they find out, I’ll be off the partner track.”
“This is a baby, Chloe – not a dog you can decide to take or leave at the pound,” he said, still aiming for reason with his tone.
“I’m aware of that! I’m also dealing with the fact that my whole life has just turned upside down! I’ve been on this partner track for the best part of a decade, and I’m this close to getting it.” I pressed my thumb and forefinger together tightly. “Do you think they’ll want a partner in their firm who’s going to be AWOL for the first few months while she’s nursing? Who’ll be obliged to leave the office to attend PTA meetings and doctor’s appointments and school recitals?”
“We’ll get a nanny-”
“What’s the point of having a baby if we leave it with a nanny all day?” I said. I swung back around, my voice rising. “I work eighty-hour weeks, Nathan. Eighty.”
His expression remained as flat as his tone. “You’re telling me there are no other female partners with children in your firm.”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you!”
“What do the men do?” he asked. Refusing to be convinced, he settled into a rigid pose. “They have kids, too, I presume-”
“They have wives at home to take care of everything!” I said, my tone accusing.
“Well, it’s not like I’m not going to be around!” he countered hotly. “I have a lot more free time than you-”
“You live in Los Angeles. I live in New York.” This time the laughter did escape. “I mean, what are we supposed to about that? Fly the baby back and forth by courier?”
There was a noticeable offbeat of silence before he said, “Maybe the baby could live with me.”
The words were delivered nonchalantly, but I felt their impact like a knife to the gut. Something inside me roared like an injured animal. A feeling of possession gripped me; if I was having this baby then I wasn’t sending it half way across the continent.
An icy realization chilled me. Did that mean Nathan wanted the baby, but didn’t want me? Was that his real motive here?
He pushed off the edge of the car and paced away from me. One hand snaked up to his neck; he kneaded the muscles, a sigh escaping him. The chaotic colors of autumn looked garish around him. When he turned to me, his mouth was set in a thin line. “You’re not giving me much of a choice here, Chloe,” he said, his voice a rasp. “If you don’t want the baby, then let me raise it.”
I sounded winded when I spoke, even to my own ears. “I said I didn’t want to give up my career. I didn’t say I didn’t want a baby, specifically.” I tried to make sense of my reasoning, while all the while I was imagining Nathan and this … my child half way across the country. “Even if I have it and you take it ... I’d lose the partnership anyway.” Confused, I turned away from him and walked a few meters through the crackling leaves. “I can’t just give it up.”
Tears overflowed and streamed down my cheeks. My hands were shaking. I realized this whole situation had just taken another massive step towards becoming very, very real. We weren’t talking about pregnancy anymore. We were talking about a child: our child, which Nathan wanted to raise.
“You shouldn’t be getting upset,” he said.
Cold laughter gripped me again. “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what it was like to have these hormones raging through you twenty-four-seven.”
Behind me now, he touched a hand to my shoulder. It felt large, warm and comforting. “I shouldn’t have brought this up here. I should have waited until we were back at the house,” he said. His hand slid around my neck as he moved to my side. Pulling me into him, he kissed the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Chloe. Do you want to go back?”
“I’m okay,” I reassured him, feeling desperately hollow inside. Allowing my head to drop sideways on to his chest, I swallowed back another wave of sorry tears. He sighed. Taking my shoulders in his hands, he turned me around to face him. His eyes were concerned on what I could feel was my pinched expression.
He leaned down to kiss me almost as though it were an automatic gesture, something we’d been doing for years like a married couple. The shock of the intimate sensation awoke in me a savage need for comfort. As his face moved back fractionally, I felt a chasm open in my chest, aching with need. He studied my pained expression for a moment. His hand lingered at the back of my neck, his finger gently stroking the sensitive skin there. W
eak with yearning – a yearning that wasn’t sexual, but emotional – I placed a hand on his chest, letting my head fall there, too. I rested my forehead on the cool, soft material, aware of the vital heat of his body underneath.
This was a mess, I thought helplessly. I wanted him – needed him – and yet every fiber of my being told me that he was the last person I should be leaning on right now. He wanted this baby, but not necessarily with me as part of the package. He was biologically incapable of objectivity; suddenly there was a being inside of me that was more important to him than I was. The notion struck me as warped on every level.
His hand continued to stroke my neck. Before long, his other arm slid around my waist, bridging the gap between our lower bodies. I held on to him as though I were drowning. His scent filled my lungs and I breathed it in hungrily. I so badly wanted to lift my head, to feel his warm mouth on mine, obliterating the pain. I wanted to feel his body come alive under my touch. He might not need me emotionally, but he wanted me physically. I knew I could control that aspect of him better than anyone else in the world. That was why we were in this mess in the first place.
The thought was like a bucket of cold water over my senses.
Wiping my eyes, I pulled out of his embrace and met his gaze evenly. “I just want to forget about this for a while,” I said. My breath exhaled in a shaky stream. “Let’s go into the village.”
“Are you sure? Just say the word and we’ll go back to the house.”
“Do I look horrendous?”
He laughed. “No. You look beautiful.”
My laugh was subdued. “You really do wear rose-colored glasses,” I said. His thumb grazed under my eyes gently, wiping away the moisture. “Anyway, there’s only beer in the fridge back at the house,” I grumbled, recoiling inside from his affection suddenly. I twisted away. “I’m starving. Let’s go.”
He took a deep breath. He seemed reluctant to move away from me, but he did. We got back into the car and the subject was dropped, for the moment. I felt subdued as we wandered the village’s quiet streets on foot some fifteen minutes later. I held his hand because it would have seemed churlish not to. Inside I was quaking. If he really wanted this child, could I refuse him? Was it in me to abort a healthy, wanted baby?
