"So, how is it we're now looking at this?"
"It was a little late and very light. And I've since learned that can sometimes happen when you're pregnant, but I was hoping it wasn't the case, that it was light because of stress. But now the second period is late."
"How late?" The bluish outline of a vein pulsed in his temple.
"Two weeks."
"Why haven't you told me?"
"Because I don't know yet. Because you were celebrating your freedom. Because you don't need the worry."
"And you do?"
"I don't have a choice. And I don't have your obvious fear of commitment."
He shook his head, his expression scathing. "You don't know anything about me."
"I know enough."
He wasn't to be sidetracked. "Were you going to tell me?"
"Yes. If it turned out that I was pregnant, I would have told you."
He gave an almost imperceptible shake of his head. As though he doubted even that. His doubt cut her more than she'd thought it would. Maybe because it was at least partially deserved, or had she started liking him again, liking that respect and recognition she'd discerned in his gaze?
She had to be stronger, more insular. "It doesn't really matter now whether you believe me or not. This whole argument could be pointless. I may not even be pregnant. This is exactly what I was hoping to avoid."
"When are you planning on taking the test?"
"I thought I'd wait a few more days. Maybe a week." Keep waiting and keep hoping. As if hope alone would make her period come.
He studied her for long seconds. "Take it now."
She looked at him horrified, took a step back. "I can't."
Nick's chair scraped across the floor as he stood and strode into the kitchen. "Why not?"
Callie backed up against the counter. "I'm not ready."
"What do you have to do to be ready?"
"Nothing. I meant that I'm not ready to be a mother. To deal with that news."
He took a step closer. "And you think I'm ready to be a father?"
She looked up at him. "But you wouldn't have to-"
"Wouldn't have to what?" The sudden edge to his voice sent a chill along her spine.
"To deal with anything for a good few months yet. Everything would change for me from the moment I found out. If I was pregnant."
"Let's find out then."
"But-"
"You're not ready?"
Callie, usually eloquent, fell silent.
"I'll tell you what. You take the test. I'll look at the results, and I won't tell you what they are. That way you won't have to deal with anything. When you are ready to know, you'll only need to ask."
"You know I'm not going to do that."
"That's just it, Callie. I don't know anything of the sort. I don't know you. I mean, here I am assuming that if you're pregnant then I'm the father. Is that a valid assumption? Has there been someone else before or since me?"
Her temper rose. "How dare you? If you want to deny paternity go right ahead. I won't fight you."
"But I will fight you if you try to deny me what is mine."
"A child is not a possession."
"I didn't suggest that. I'm talking about a child's right to a relationship with both its parents. And a parent's right to a relationship with that child. And you still haven't answered my question."
"What's the point? You clearly have trouble believing anything I say."
"Tell me, Callie. This is no time for playing games."
She met and held his gaze. "You're the only man I've slept with since I broke up with Jason. In fact, you're the only man other than Jason I've ever slept with. If I'm pregnant, then you are the father."
The accusation in his eyes eased. "Thank you." He said it so quietly she almost didn't hear the words. He dropped his gaze and turned the box over in his hands. In the stretching silence she heard the quiet crackle of the cellophane wrapper. Finally he spoke. "You need to take this test." He looked up. Held her gaze.
Callie swallowed. "I passed every test I ever took in school. I think this one's going to be a positive result, as well."
"You've had other symptoms?" His anger had been replaced by a kind of resignation.
"No. At least no morning sickness or weird cravings, and I don't even think my breasts have changed size." They both looked at her chest, then looked up again. "Although I have gone off coffee, and I'm sleeping more than usual."
"You're procrastinating."
She nodded. "Wouldn't you?"
"No. I want to know, so that we can deal with whatever we need to deal with. I like to face my … I like to face things head-on."
He'd been going to say "problems," she knew it. But he wouldn't be so very wrong, a pregnancy would definitely create problems. In business she told herself that problems also always presented opportunities, and if the big "if" was true, she knew in time she'd see the opportunities, that there would be a definite plus side to all this.
Nick picked up her good hand and surprisingly gently pressed the angular package into it. For a few seconds his hands, large and warm, cradled hers as she held the box. Then he released her and stepped back. "Take the test."
Six
I t felt like a lifetime later when Callie stepped onto the veranda where Nick waited. The night air, warm but cooling rapidly, closed around her. A half moon hung low in the sky, only a handful of stars able to compete with its glow. She was reminded forcefully of that other night not so very long ago when it had been just the two of them on a darkened balcony.
New beginnings, new lives. They'd certainly achieved that, though not in the way either of them had imagined.
Nick stood with his back to her, staring out into the night. At first glance his stance, as he leaned against the railing, appeared relaxed. A closer look revealed tension in the muscles of his shoulders. She waited for him to turn. The beat of her heart was a slow, heavy thump.
He remained immobile.
Numb, she walked to stand beside him, followed his gaze into the blue-black night. The song of nearby cicadas filled the air. "When I was little," she said, "I used to lie in bed at night listening to the cicadas, pretending I was Pocahontas. I thought if I listened hard enough I would hear secrets they were trying to tell me."
He turned at last and studied her. "You're pregnant."
She nodded. That blue line still seemed imprinted on her retina.
"Could it be wrong?"
She shook her head. "Not three times." She turned away as tears suddenly welled. Weren't children supposed to be a joy? All she felt was overwhelmed and more than a little frightened. She didn't know how to do this alone, to be a mother, to raise a child. Especially when her relationship with its father was so fragile.
She glanced over her shoulder at Nick, saw him still studying her. She could read nothing in his gaze, no anger, none of the fear and uncertainty she felt. She wanted to say something, but no words came. For the second time he took her hand in his, interlacing their fingers. His touch again gentle, warmth seeped into her, a physical manifestation of that unseen connection they now shared. Slowly he led her to the cane couch on the veranda. They sat down wordlessly, shoulders touching, and looked out into the night.
Drifting clouds had obscured the moon when he finally spoke. "I want what's best for our baby." His voice revealed no emotion, gave no clue as to what he thought or felt for himself.
"So do I. But I'm frightened that I don't know what that is or how to give it." In an instant her life had been turned upside down, and being pregnant felt so … huge, that it put everything she'd done before into a new perspective.
It was a long time before Nick responded. "Do you want me to take the child?"
Callie shot up from the couch and whirled to face him. "Of course not."
"I don't expect to be that bad a parent. And I can get help. A nanny?" He was still too calm.
"How can you think for one minute-"
"I was just asking." The facade cracked and frustration seeped out. "I need to know how things stand, what you want."
"I want this baby." Callie held her hands protectively over her abdomen.