Carmala waited.
“I’m, ah, infertile.”
“No!” She couldn’t believe he was admitting to this. What would it mean to Jane?
“I just found out. Remember the bad car accident in college?” He waited for her nod before continuing. “I evidently reinjured something internally from a mishap on the football field way back in college. Probably the impact from one too many tackles, and the accident aggravated it more, jiggling something down there.” He cleared his throat. “In short, I guess I’m pretty much shooting blanks.”
“How did you find out?”
“During routine blood work, I asked the doctor to check on the sperm count while we were at it. I never thought that a groin injury would have such an adverse effect. Truthfully, I wanted to know before we got married. Anyhow, it’s not one hundred percent, more like ninety. There’s still a chance, and with modern medicine, who knows, there may be ways to increase the production.” He kept twirling the butter knife on the table.
“How do you think Jane is going to feel about this?”
“Not good. She’s always talking about having children. And to her, it’s critical that she has them before some arbitrary age she’s come up with. You know how she likes to be in control of everything. But life doesn’t always go according to plan, does it?”
“You’re not going to tell her, are you?” Carmala asked the question but knew what his answer would be.
“No, I’m not. It isn’t necessary.” Bill ran his hand through his hair. “I mean, now I wish I hadn’t asked the doc to do the tests. But, like I said, there are methods to increase—”
“Then the doctor gave you hope?”
“Yes, ah…you can say that. Look, Carmala, I’ve waited long enough for this girl. She’s going to have to take me for better or worse, right?”
TMI—way too much information. She didn’t feel comfortable talking about it anymore, and if that was Bill’s decision, it was his to make. Yet she’d hate to see him going into a marriage without telling Jane about the critical issue. She thought he’d be setting himself up for a real letdown later. Better to change the subject.
“Why don’t you tell me how you plan to pop the question?” she asked.
A flash of relief appeared in his eyes. “I have a little surprise up my sleeve… in front on the Eiffel Tower. I’m going to tell her that the trip is her treat for passing her bar exam.”
“Are you sure she’s not going to think this proposal is coming out of left field?” Carmala still didn’t trust Jane or her motivations. Or Bill to read them right.
“Carmala, stop worrying. I’m purchasing insurance on the ring on the off chance she says no.”
Oh, good.
They finished their meal in a hurry and grabbed a cab to Tiffany’s. A single thought repeated in Carmala’s mind: Jane better not disappoint him.
Chapter Eight
The phone woke Jane from a deep sleep. She picked up the extension on her night table. “Hello?”
“Well hello, gorgeous.”
It was Bill. How nice to hear his voice, even if it was just eight o’clock in the morning. “I just woke up.” She stretched and arose from bed. “How are you?”
“I’m great! And how are you, Counselor?”
“I’m still exhausted.” Still decompressing from having taken the bar exam a couple of weeks ago. Thank God, she passed. The bar exam nearly killed her.
“Not too exhausted to celebrate, I hope.”
“I think I need a few more days to sleep.” But she hoped he had something fun planned.
“How about going away with me for a long weekend?”
“So soon?” Of course, she couldn’t wait, but it was important to keep him hanging in suspense. A little trick her mother had taught her.
“We haven’t seen each other very much since your graduation, and now that you’ve got the bar exam behind you, I thought it would be a perfect time to get away and celebrate.”
Ooh. They were going away. Where?
She padded to the bathroom down the hall, the cordless phone crooked to her ear. Gazing in the mirror, she noted her messy and slightly knotted hair. But worst yet, a damned zit decided to take up residence on her cheek.
Ugh! She couldn’t understand why she had to get the big red nuisance now. She wasn’t due for her period.
“What do you have in mind?”
“How about Paree?”
“What?” She backed away from the mirror. “You’ve got to be kidding…” She observed the shock in her own reflection.
Paris? Her absolute dream.
“I assure you that I’m not yanking your chain. I’ve already bought the plane tickets. We have a red eye to London on Friday night and will be returning home Tuesday night. Can you get away?”
“Get away…Bill, I…ah, don’t know what to wear.”
“Ha! Just like my girl to want to make a fashion statement. I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Now you have an excuse to do some shopping. And pack your dancing shoes, because we’re going to party. How about it if I pick you up at six Friday night?”
“Ah, sure. But, wait, I need some details. What’s on the itinerary? Where will we be staying?”
“It’s all a surprise. Just be packed and ready. See if you can stick to one suitcase.”
“Okay, I’ll try. See you then.” She disconnected the phone and brushed her teeth. Still in her pajamas, she ran down the stairs to the kitchen.
Her mother was at the table, already fully made-up with coffee cup in hand. She looked up at Jane and smiled. “Good morning, dear.”
“Mother, you won’t believe this. Bill is taking me to Paris. Can you imagine? I’ve wanted to stroll along the Seine and dine in a Parisian café ever since I can remember.” Jane glided over to the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter, grabbed a mug, and poured a cup. She held the cup under her nose and breathed in deeply. She added a smidge of sugar and took a sip. Her mother made the strongest, most delicious coffee she’d ever tasted.
Life was exquisite, delightful.
“Darling, this is exciting! The City of Lights…” Her mother looked wistful. But she quickly recovered and smiled brightly “Bill has sheer class. I wouldn’t expect anything less from him. Tell me all the details. Where will you be staying and touring?”
“I don’t know. It’s all a surprise. He just told me to be ready by Friday night, and that’s only three days away. I have no idea what clothes to bring. He wants me to keep to one suitcase. How will I ever do that?” She drank down half her coffee. “Will you go shopping with me? Should we go to New York?”
“Where else would we go?”
“Right. Well, I want a cocktail dress, a formal dress, some new Louboutins—”
“This is going to be great fun for you, dear. You need to let loose finally. You’ve had a long, hard ride. I’m so proud…” Her mother’s eyes filled with tears, but Jane could tell they were happy tears. “Of the hundreds of relatives we have, you’re the one and only attorney in the family.”
“I’m just relieved the hard part is finally over.”
Her mother shook her head. “No, the hard part now is deciding where you’re going to work and what you’re going to do about Bill Cicieri.”
Jane rolled her eyes. When she graduated from law school, she moved out of her apartment in D.C. and back into her childhood home in Cinnaminson, New Jersey. It was meant to be temporary, until she’d passed the bar exam. Living once again under Mom’s roof made her feel like as if she were back in high school. It was amusing and annoying at the same time.
“Mother, please, let’s not go there again.”
Her mother tapped her coffee mug on the table for emphasis. “You aren’t getting any younger, Jane. You’ve completed your schooling. Now you have to think about the family you wanted.”
“There’s plenty of time for that. Let me bask in my success a little, huh? I’m tired.”
“Sorry, dear. You’ve always been the overachie
ver of the family, and you’ve more than proven yourself. It couldn’t have been easy to stand out among your seven brothers and sisters. But you did it!” Her mother got up to pour herself more coffee and stared into space again.
Darn. Jane must have caught her mother during a menopausal moment.
“When I was your age, I’d already had my third child,” her mother said. “There were four more after that. My beauty-queen figure was going to be gone for good, even then.”
Definitely menopausal. “You look fantastic, Mom. What woman can still sport those short dresses and stilettos to the ladies’ auxiliary lunches? And how many women your age make time for the spa, tanning, and massages like you do?” In fact, Jane was relieved her Mom was aging so well; it meant she should as well.
Jane examined her mother. Jane favored her more than her dad, thank God. With his craggy, lined face and extended stomach, he certainly didn’t age well at all. He’d lost all his to-die-for looks of his youth. On the other hand, Jane shared her mother’s luminous green eyes, beautiful skin, and thick, blonde hair.
“Let’s not discuss age. Anyway, we’re talking about you, dear.”
Jane went to the pantry to pull out a box of cereal. Using a half-cup measuring cup, she poured the appropriate amount of cereal.
“I’ve been proud of you even way before you made cheerleading squad captain in high school. The only thing that almost killed me was when you broke poor Bill’s heart. You know, Beth Cicieri hasn’t spoken to me since?”
“How could I have kept up a relationship when I was going so far away to school? I worked hard to get into William and Mary and fought many distractions to get my good grades. I needed to focus on my studies, not Bill.” She spooned some cereal into her mouth and chewed it slowly and thoroughly. A little trick she had adopted in high school. If she ate slowly, the necessary twenty minutes would pass for her stomach to think she was full.
“I know school was important to you. But now that you’ve been admitted to the bar, you can get a job as an attorney anywhere. You should consider Manhattan.”
“Mother, Dean Rasmussen had to pull some strings for me at City Hall in Philadelphia. They are seriously considering me for the assistant DA position. And I really want that job.”
Her mother cringed. “I don’t think my daughter should have to work with those Philadelphia low-rent criminals. They’re all guilty as far as I’m concerned. They don’t need to squander your talent to put them behind bars.”
Really, her mother shouldn’t be so judgmental. “Remember, people are presumed innocent until proven guilty.”
“I don’t care. The crime rate is so high there. And you’ll be moving away again.” She feigned a pouty frown. “I was looking forward to you staying in the area and maybe…becoming Bill’s mother-in-law.”
“Mother-in-law? Come on, Mom. If you keep pushing, you’re going to turn me off on him, like you did ten years ago.” She finished her cereal and pushed the bowl away. “Actually, he’ll never know it, but he’s been on my mind ever since high school.”
“That’s right, dating one-oh-one. Keep them guessing.”
Jane got up, rinsed her bowl, and searched through the refrigerator to come up with a fat-free plain yogurt.
One-quarter cup with fifteen blueberries should do.
“Mother, I love him and dread him. Because he represents everything I want. And it’s a little scary. I’ve got the degree I sought, and I want the assistant DA job, but I also want children. However, I have to have them before I’m twenty-eight. Two kids, if possible. Then we should be done, and I can get back into my skinny jeans. No matter what, I’m so not going to lose my shape over the kids.” Jane sat down at the table and ate her yogurt.
“Children. That’s music to my ears. But make no mistake. Bill is the one. You don’t want to lose him. He’d give you the world. I’d bet he’d move back to Philadelphia for you if you insisted on that DA job.”
Her mother was right. But Jane didn’t need to be reminded, and the fact that her mother felt the need to do so made Jane want to rebel. “Maybe. I don’t know. Still, I just passed the bar, and I should be celebrating and starting my career. I can work in marriage and kids later, right?”
“Well, sure. I don’t think Bill is going anywhere.” Her mother sipped her coffee and paused, still holding the floor. “Did you know that when you broke things off with him, he came to talk with your father and me?”
Jane stopped with a spoonful in midair. “You never told me that.”
“We knew your mind was made up. But we advised him not to give up hope. If you didn’t want the distraction of a relationship, he didn’t have to worry that you’d have one with someone else.”
“You were right. Nothing would have stopped me from going to law school. Remember when I use to play court in the playroom and have Billy, Thomas, and Bert play the judge, criminal, and opposing counsel?”
Her mother chuckled and shook her head. “Your brothers hated it, but since you were older, you had the upper hand.” She nibbled at her barely eaten bran muffin.
“I want marriage, kids, and the white picket fence. Believe me, I do. It’s just, Bill and I are not talking about marriage at this point. And I think he might be afraid to ask me, since I disappointed him before. But I’m not going to be the one who suggests it.”
“I could hint to Bill that you’re ready, if you like.”
“No! Absolutely not. If he doesn’t have it in his heart to ask, then I’ll move on, that’s all.” Jane lifted her nose in the air. The hell with him. If he didn’t ask her by Christmas, she’d break it off and find someone else.
“I wouldn’t worry. He’s not going to let you go. A woman puts off a certain vibe when she’s ready, and I’m sure you do that. Be patient, it’ll happen.” But the look her mother gave her, over the rim of her coffee cup, said hurry up. “I would like to see your grandchildren before I turn sixty.”
There it was. All she really cared about. She’d have them soon enough.
****
The week sped by and before Jane knew it, Friday had arrived.
She ran through her shopping checklist. New dresses, pop-up bra, lingerie, strappy Louboutins, makeup, passport…Oh God, she almost forgot birth control. She grabbed the pills from her dresser drawer and tucked them inside her suitcase. No, on second thought, who needed them? She threw the pills back in the drawer. If she got pregnant, Bill would have to marry her. There. She was done.
“Janey, Bill is here.” Mom’s familiar voice echoed up the stairs.
It so reminded her of the nights, many moons ago, when a young and anxious Bill had shown up on her doorstep to pick her up for dates.
She put on a little black day dress with matching stilettos and accessorized with a black leather Chanel bag. She’d be flying to Europe in style tonight. Jane had curled her hair, making long loose waves. As always, she put on her signature pink lipstick.
They’d fly overnight and snooze on the plane. She would freshen up before they landed. Then when they’d arrive, they could enjoy some day touring and go to bed at a normal hour to catch up to the time change.
Once she reached the bottom of the stairs, she saw her mother leave the room with a smile. Jane put her luggage down, and Bill pulled her into a tight hug. God, he felt wonderful in her arms. It’d been a long hard summer. Heck, it had been a tough eight years.
He kissed her deeply. It was so hot, so nice. Their tongues intertwined and instant passion sparked. The telling wetness formed between her legs. Oh yeah, she was definitely hungry for him. And he shared the same sentiment, as indicated by hardness pressed against her.
“Mmm, I could get used to this.” She sighed, sinking into his arms.
“Get used to it because I don’t plan on stopping.” Bill cupped her face for another kiss.
She wriggled out of his arms. She didn’t want to mess up her hair and makeup before the trip. “Don’t we have a plane to catch?” She grabbed her coat from the hallwa
y closet. “You know how nervous I get at before flights.”
“We have plenty of time, don’t worry.”
The flight was long, but Jane used the time to get through some mindless reading for a change and nibble on some delicious snacks served in first class.
****
Jane entered the huge reception room of their five-star hotel in the heart of Paris, within walking distance of the Grevin Museum.
“Wait until you see the room,” Bill said.
Two bellhops greeted them with a luggage cart and loaded their bags. They went to the registration desk, checked in, and rode the elevator up to the tenth floor, bellhops in tow.
The fragrance of fresh flowers filled her senses as soon as she entered their rooms. Vases with elaborate floral arrangements sprinkled their suite. The décor was an interesting combination of classical and avant-garde. Relaxing but elegant at the same time. She glided over to the opened French doors of the terrace which overlooked the piazza. She inhaled the sweet aroma of fresh-baked goodies from the bakery on the street below and instantly dreamed of sinking her teeth into a fluffy croissant.
The pop of a cork distantly resounded through the room. Jane spied Bill opening the champagne on ice the staff had provided for them. Jane opened a hand-written welcome letter detailing the many amenities offered: a free minibar on the first night, free Wi-Fi, free video on request, iPod station—only, there would be no use for that because Jane would designate the hotel room a no-device zone—bathrobes and slippers, and a complimentary breakfast in the lobby.
She didn’t think they’d be watching much TV, regardless of the impressive high-definition sixty-inch flatscreen.
Jane slinked to the bed and ran her hand along the goose-down duvet and pulled it back to reveal natural linen sheets.
Suddenly, she wanted to take advantage of the inviting bed. Bill was carefully pouring the bubbly into long crystal flutes but froze still when he got a look at Jane. A second later he ripped her dress off in one sweeping motion. Her body writhed in anticipation. She unfastened her bra, hurriedly threw it to the ground, and then removed her underwear, stockings, and shoes while he stripped his clothes off.
Having Fun with Mr. Wrong Page 8
