Sometimes she thought Kevin spent more time at their house than he spent at his own. They had sold her home in Glen Ellyn and settled in Cal’s condo until they decided where they were going to live permanently. For some reason, Cal had insisted on participating in every decision about paint color and furniture purchases, right down to throw pillows. He and Kevin had assembled the baby’s crib together, and put up bright yellow shutters in the sunny second-story bedroom that was to be the nursery.
Even Kevin didn’t know that Cal was going to announce his retirement at the end of the season. Cal wasn’t entirely happy about it, since he still didn’t know what he would do with himself, but he was tired of fighting his injuries. He also said he’d learned there were more important things in life than playing football.
“Women are not supposed to fly when they’re nine months pregnant,” he growled. “It’s a wonder they didn’t arrest me for bringing you on that plane.”
“They wouldn’t have dared. You celebrities can get away with anything.” She gave him the pouty lip that made her feel so deliciously like a bimbo. “Yesterday I realized I couldn’t stand the idea of having our baby in Chicago. I want to be near family.”
He was a sucker for the pouty lip, and he nipped it between his own before he went on with his complaint. “You could have decided that a month ago, and I’d have sent you out here while it was still safe to travel.”
“Then we’d have been split up, and neither of us could have stood that.”
It was true. They needed each other in more ways than they could ever have imagined. Not only had they found passion together, but they’d found contentment, as well as an energy that had spilled over into their jobs. Cal was well on his way to breaking his all-time passing record, and her work had never gone better.
Just after they’d returned to Chicago, she’d been awarded the Coates’ Prize in Physics for a paper she’d done on duality. Unbeknownst to her, the rumors about the prize had been circulating for weeks, making Jerry Miles’s vendetta against her look foolish. In August, he’d been dismissed and replaced with one of the most respected physicists in the country, a man who had convinced Jane to take a permanent position at Preeze. He’d even gone so far as to bribe her with several eager young physicists to serve as her staff.
At that moment, however, Cal didn’t have his wife’s blossoming professional career on his mind, but her physical well-being, and she tried to ease his worries. “Be logical, Cal. I talked to Dr. Vogler this morning. She knows my medical history, and she’s perfectly capable of delivering this baby.”
“I still say you could have made up your mind about this a long time ago.”
Her desire to have their baby here had grown stronger as her pregnancy advanced, but she wouldn’t even consider leaving Cal behind in Chicago. His injury over the weekend had given her the chance she needed.
The baby twisted, and her spine felt as if it were being clamped by a giant fist. He’d go ballistic if he realized she was in this much pain, and she barely bit back a gasp.
It was gradually occurring to her that Cal was right, and getting on that plane had been a stupid thing to do. Still, first-time labor took forever, and Jim and Lynn would be waiting for her. Her father-in-law would tell her if he thought she should call Vogler.
Luckily, Cal was distracted and didn’t notice anything wrong. “What’s that on the inside of your wrist?” He picked up her hand.
She could barely catch her breath. “Uh . . . It’s nothing.” She tried to snatch it away, but he held fast. “It’s just a little pen mark. I must have marked myself accidentally.”
“Now that’s real strange. This looks a lot more like an equation than an accidental squiggle.”
“We were coming in for landing,” she sniffed, “and I couldn’t get to my notebook.” She caught her breath as the baby scored a 9.7 with a triple axel double toe loop. This time her back pain hit along with a fierce contraction that seemed to last forever, but might still only be a Braxton-Hicks. She swallowed a groan, which would really upset him, and distracted herself from the pain by trying to start a quarrel.
“You don’t fight with me anymore.”
“That’s not true, sweetheart. We’ve been fighting ever since you told me we had to go on this trip.”
“We’ve been arguing, not fighting. You haven’t yelled once. You never yell anymore.”
“I’m sorry, but I just can’t seem to work up a good mad at you.”
“Why not? Even I can’t stand myself!”