The morning sickness started not long after I returned home, and I decided it was time to see a doctor and confirm what I already knew. The tests came back positive—I was pregnant. With the baby of a man who wasn't at all what I'd thought he was.
I sat at home one afternoon with his number punched into my phone, working up the courage to hit 'send.' I normally wasn't a girl to be shy about calling a man, but this was a call I'd never had to make before. Finally I let out a long sigh and hit the button, then held my breath while I waited for him to answer.
“Camille,” he said as soon as he picked up. “How've you been? I've been waiting to hear from you.”
“I'm...I'm good,” I said, nervously picking at the threads on my shirt. “Listen, baby, you and I need to talk.”
“That's good,” he said. “Talking is good. We've got a lot to talk about.”
“Honey, you don't know the half of it.”
He was quiet at that, and his voice was hesitant when he spoke. “Camille, is everything all right? Listen, I know this was a crazy situation...”
“We'll talk in person,” I said. “This ain't something to discuss over the phone.”
“All right,” he said. “How about dinner? Something quiet. Intimate.”
“That sounds good.” We worked out the details and I hung up the phone, trying to ignore the churning in my gut. I wasn't sure if it was nausea from the pregnancy or from my nervousness, but either way I felt like I was going to throw up.
Jack picked me up later that night. He brought flowers, though I refused to give him any brownie points for that. We went to a restaurant with a private dining hall. There wasn't another soul there besides the staff. I wondered if Jack had bought out every table in the place in order to give us more privacy.
Once we were settled in and we'd decided on what to eat, Jack uncorked a bottle of champagne and poured us each a glass. “I'm glad for the chance to see you again, Camille,” he said, raising his glass. I raised mine and tapped it gently against his, then set it down without taking a sip.
“So, how have you been?” He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. He still looked like the same old Jack. He was dressed simply, in slacks and a black t-shirt, and to look at him you never would have guessed that he was a billionaire.
Billionaire. I couldn't get my head around how much money a billion dollars really was. I'd grown up poor and worked my way through college to earn my archaeology degree. I was still paying off my student loans.
“I'm fine,” I said, my voice tight. I'd planned out everything I had to say, but it was getting all jumbled now that I was here. “Listen, Jack, we need to sort this out. About us. If there is an us, I mean.”
“I'd like there to be,” he said. “I know you must still be mad at me, but can you at least understand why I did what I did? I mean, it's not like I can travel under my own identity. You saw what happened...those men somehow figured out who I was, and they came after me.”
I hadn't thought about that before. It's likely the terrorists didn't just want to stop us from violating their holy grounds. Jack Tremaine would have been a valuable hostage. Even if they didn't care about money (most extremists didn't), they could have made a public example of him. Killing a rich American industrialist would raise them up in the eyes of those that supported their cause.
“I understand,” I said. I took a sip of my water, wishing I could try the champagne so I could calm my nerves. “But what happens now? It ain't like we can have a normal relationship.”
“Why can't we?” he asked. “I don't live a high society life. I prefer to travel. You can come with me. There's got to be plenty of places around the world you'd like to see. We can scout locations for future expeditions, and see the world while we're at it.”
“That isn't going to work,” I said. I couldn't see hauling a baby around the world, jetting from one country to another. I couldn't set up a crib at the edge of an excavation site while I was on a dig. “I need to settle down for a while. I'm thinking about teaching.”
“Teaching?” He arched an eyebrow. “That works too. I have some contacts at quite a few universities. I can help set you up with something.”
“I don't need your help.” I shook my head. “I can get by on my own merits.”
“Of course.” He gave me an apologetic smile. “I didn't mean to imply otherwise.”
We were quiet for a while as we ate. I couldn't figure out how to say the things that needed to be said, or ask the things that needed to be asked. I couldn't just come right out and tell him I was pregnant. He'd want to get married and take care of the baby, just because it was the right thing to do. But then I'd spend the rest of my life not knowing whether he actually wanted me, whether he loved me, or whether he was just saddled with me because he'd knocked me up.
Damn, I wished I hadn't gone and gotten myself into this mess.
“So what about the future?” I asked him.
“Our future?” he asked. “I hope it will be a bright one.”
“But have you actually thought about it?” I put down my fork and peered at him from across the table. “We had a fun few weeks out there, sure. But did you ever stop to think about whether it was going anywhere?”
“Actually,” he said, “I haven't been able to think about much of anything else.” He wiped his mouth with a cloth napkin, then set it on the table. “Listen, Camille. I'm not going to make any promises. This is just the beginning, right? We've got time to figure things out. I just want to get to know you more, to become a part of your life. And we can figure out the rest as we go along, can't we?”
“No,” I said, tears welling in my eyes. “We can't.”
“Why not?” He looked so distraught, half rising from his chair as if he thought I was about to run out the door and he'd need to catch me.
“Because I'm pregnant.”
He stared at me for a long moment. He settled back into his chair. He cleared his throat, then took a sip of his champagne.
“Oh,” he said.
“Oh?” I stared at him, leaning forward with my palms on the table. “Oh? Is that all you have to say? God damn it, Jack, I'm having a baby. Your baby. Don'tcha have anything more to say about that?”
“Have you been to a doctor yet?” he asked. “I can find you the best OBGYN in the state. And don't worry about the cost, I'll take care of everything.”
I sat there and stared at him. “That...that's it?” I grabbed my napkin and threw it at him. “You want to know about the damn doctor?”
He caught the napkin and set it aside. “I'm not sure what else to say. I'm a practical person, Camille. Your health, the baby's health, that's the most important thing. The first thing I thought of.”
I let the tension release from my shoulders. It was actually sweet, when I thought about it. He heard that I was pregnant, and his first instinct was to take care of me.
“What else do we need to talk about?” he asked. “Living arrangements? We've got time until the baby is born, so maybe we—”
“I want to talk about us, Jack.” I clenched the edge of the tablecloth in my fists. “I wasn't ready for this. I don't know what's going to happen. And before you even think it, don't go popping the question on me now. I want to focus on doing what's right for this baby, first, before we consider whether we want to get married or something. But we need to figure 'us' out. Figure out where this is going, how we're going to manage things.”
He smiled and rose from his chair, then circled around the table and knelt beside me. He took my hands in his and gave them an affectionate squeeze. “Don't you worry at all, Camille. We're going to take this one day at a time. We've got months before the baby is due, and we can spend that time getting to know each other more. Growing closer to each other. I'll make sure the baby is provided for, you have my word on that. And we'll figure 'us' out. The important thing is moving forward, right? We'll make a great future together. And when the time is right, when we have all the pieces in place and we know we're doing it for us, and not for the wrong reasons, then we'll talk about marriage, and the future, and all of that. Okay?”
Tears welled in my eyes. All I could do was nod. I leaned over and kissed his lips, glad that he was here for me, that he wasn't going to try to push me into something before I was ready. It was going to be a strange life, raising a baby with a daddy who was a billionaire and an ex-Navy SEAL. And a white boy, on top of that. My mama wouldn't bat an eyelash at the rest of it, but when I brought a white boy home to meet her, she was going to blow her top.