“Grill me about what?” he’d naively asked. It wasn’t like he had criminal record or anything.
“Everything,” Pace explained. “Your parents, your siblings, your hometown, your goals, where you see yourself in five or ten years. Just don’t be intimidated.” Jason would never admit he’d been scared by the woman he still thought could wrestle secrets from third world terrorists. He’d never understood how his gentle, naïve wife had come from his mother-in-law.
Her dad had breezed in from the airport after a grueling session of Congress—Colin described every session as grueling—wearing a three-piece suit that probably cost more than Jason’s car. He’d wondered, not for the first time, what the hell Pace saw in a guy like him. He had nothing in common with her dad. Colin was slick, from his perfectly styled hair and manicured nails to his tasseled loafers. He still cringed whenever he saw a man wearing loafers. It just seemed so wrong.
They’d had dinner at a table for twenty, just the four of them, eating duck and a whole bunch of food he’d never seen before and couldn’t pronounce. He’d been politely cross-examined by Colin and Tori and probably written off as a phase.
Jason kept thinking about that night because it was a time in their relationship where a light bulb went off in his head. Before that night, Pace had been this petite girl with long, flyaway hair, big soulful eyes, and a really nice car. He knew her dad was a Senator, but he’d mostly blanked that out because he’d fallen in love with her sweetness. They’d made love like rabbits, eaten pizza for dinner twenty-two nights in a row, and she’d always kept him from taking everything too seriously. He’d loved her more than he thought he could ever love another person and then suddenly, after that night, he couldn’t look at her the same.
He never thought their differences bothered Pace until now, as he sat at his desk wondering why his wife would cheat on him. Could this be another light bulb moment where he realized he wasn’t enough for her? They hadn’t exactly burned up the sheets lately, with his work and travel schedule, but he couldn’t see Pace cheating for the thrill of cheap sex. And who the hell would it be? Someone in the neighborhood? Someone she met at school or at the grocery store? The gym?
Tarks called Jason into his office and, for once, he felt grateful for the distraction. He explained he was giving Jason another chance to prove himself. They’d been contacted by a prospect out of New York, a start-up company looking to build their headquarters, and he needed Jason to fly there next week and do the preliminary legwork. Jason couldn’t care less about a new account and the thought of proving himself, after five years, made him want to toss Tarks by the lapels of his very expensive suit out the twentieth-story window. A new project, however, might keep him from thinking about Pace with a bevy of men.
By three o’clock, knee deep in zoning research, he felt strange not having talked to Pace. He wondered if she hadn’t called because she felt guilty. He should feel guilty for not checking on Mitchell, but he still couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone and returned to his data on design constraints in the New York City suburb. Sometime later the phone rang. Jason answered without looking at the display and straightened in his seat when he recognized his wife’s voice over the line. She sounded awful and explained she’d caught Mitchell’s bug, but ecstatically announced she’d gotten her period. Overwhelmed with relief, Jason shoved files in his bag and left to go home early so she could rest.
* * *
Tori looked through the glass doors of Colin’s office and wondered again if she was doing the right thing. She could see her reflection as she stood in the hallway and, for a moment, she stared at her image. With the two inches her boots added and the way her white hair rose above her forehead to curl against her cheek, she looked like a lighter, thinner version of Elizabeth Taylor in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? How could she look so strong and yet feel so invisible?
The receptionist, an overweight and overeager employee, waved her through the door, jolting Tori out of her thoughts. “Mrs. Whitfield! What a nice surprise.”
Her nameplate reminded Tori of her name. “Hello, Beverly. You’re looking lovely today.”
Her quick blush revealed no one had complimented her in awhile. “The Senator is out to lunch right now…” she looked down at the calendar on her desk, “…but he should be back soon. Would you like to wait in his office?”
Tori glanced at her watch and twitched her lips, acting as if she were pressed for time when, in fact, this charade was all she’d planned for the day. “Sure. I guess I can spare a few minutes.”
“Can I bring you some coffee or a soft drink?”
Tori walked down the hall toward Colin’s door. “I’ll get it,” she called over her shoulder.
She looked left and right over the tops of the cubicles and in the offices that lined the outer edges of the small space. Phones rang and people talked in muted voices, mostly men with their coats off and shirt sleeves rolled up to their elbows. She couldn’t see Heather’s dark head anywhere. She nearly ran into Trey while she scouted for Heather and didn’t look where she was going.
Trey grabbed her arms to avoid a collision. “Tori? I didn’t know you were here.” As he flicked the blond hair from his eyes, Tori couldn’t help but smile at his handsome face and think about how different her grandchildren would look and behave if he and Pace had married.
“Oh, Trey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be wandering around not looking where I’m going.”
“I don’t mind running into a beautiful woman.” He flashed a devilish grin and she wondered why he wasn’t the one bedding twenty-year-olds. Perhaps he did or perhaps he was too busy covering for Colin. “Were we expecting you?”
We. God, how the campaign made everyone feel territorial toward Colin. “I was in the neighborhood.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and led her down the hall toward Colin’s office. “He’ll be back soon. He’s having lunch with some folks from the Chamber.”
Tori couldn’t explain her presence. Why didn’t she think of an excuse before she came there? What had she planned to say if he’d been at his desk? “Is he worried about their support?”
Trey brushed off any suggestion of defeat. “He’s not taking anything for granted.”
She stopped him before they turned the corner and she wouldn’t be able see the reception area. From where she’d paused she could see when the elevators opened. “Are you concerned about the man who intends to run against him? Does he really have a chance?”
“Not much of one, no.” Trey excused himself after a woman poked her head out of an office and announced he had a call. “Make yourself comfortable, Tori. The old man will be back soon.”
She didn’t have to worry about loitering in the hallway, for as soon as Trey had disappeared, Colin pulled open the glass doors. She felt a weight lift off her shoulders when she realized he was alone. Tori knew the moment he saw her. His friendly grin turned serious and then snapped back into place as he walked toward her. He hadn’t quite made it to her side when the glass doors opened again revealing Heather, the young and perky college student who had obviously taken a separate elevator to cover her and Colin’s rendezvous. The way she looked, the confident way she carried herself, all but announced she’d had a productive lunch hour. The guilt on Colin’s face was unmistakable. She could no longer pretend her husband wasn’t having an affair.
“Tori?” Colin kissed her cheek when she turned her head away. “Did I know you were coming?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “I imagine you didn’t have a clue.”
Chapter 6
Pace called the doctor’s office first thing Friday morning and told them she’d gotten her period and didn’t need a follow up appointment. The nurse suggested she keep it, just to check things out. Pace felt better—she hadn’t thrown up in eight hours—so she decided it couldn’t hurt. Mitchell was back at school and, knock-on-wood, Dillon seemed to have dodged the bullet. The strain this whole ordeal had put on
her marriage made her want to strangle the doctor and she wished she had her mother’s bravado and could give him an earful at the appointment.
By the time the doctor arrived, Pace had waited over an hour in a freezing cold room wearing nothing more than a tissue paper gown. Her impatience, along with her meager temper, simmered at full boil. He swept in as if he’d graced her with his presence and glanced through her file.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelly.” He didn’t even look at her. “First trimester miscarriage is very common. Spontaneous abortion occurs in women aged thirty-five and older twenty to thirty-five percent of the time, so you shouldn’t feel as though this is a result of something you did.” He lightly tapped her shoulder instructing Pace to lie down on the table. The nurse entered as he pulled out the stirrups. “We’ll do a quick physical exam to check the womb.”
Before she had a chance to explain that she’d never been pregnant, she was staring at the ceiling and he’d inserted the speculum. Her throat clamped tight when he began the examination.
“I can see the womb opening is closed and,” his fingers pressed on her abdomen, “I can tell by the size of your uterus you’ve successfully miscarried. You can expect to bleed for a few days to a week.” He extracted the speculum and instructed her to sit up. “That’s good news, Mrs. Kelly. Your body’s done the best it can with an improbable situation.”
“Dr. Hidel,” she finally managed to interject. He either had a tee time or a hot date for lunch. “I wasn’t pregnant in the first place. There was some kind of mistake.”
He made eye contact for the first time since he’d entered the room and whipped off his gloves before flipping open the file. “Nooo.” He spoke to Pace like a toddler. “I’m looking at the blood results drawn just two weeks ago. Positive pregnancy.” He flipped the file closed, discussion over. “There’s no use beating yourself up about this and wondering why it happened. The most common cause of miscarriage is chromosomal abnormalities, which means the baby couldn’t have survived outside the womb anyway. If you and your husband want to have another baby, give it at least six months and try again. Just be sure to take prenatal vitamins and folic acid.”
“Dr. Hidel.” Pace tried to use the same condescending tone he’d used with her, but only ended up sounding whiney. She couldn’t believe the man who’d delivered her two children would speak to her that way. Didn’t he remember how she and Jason cried when Dillon was born? Jason had hugged him in that awkward way men do and pumped his arm up and down so much the doctor kept slapping him on the shoulder to end the torture. Pace had watched the scene, blurry eyed, with her legs spread eagle, waiting for Dr. Hidel to stitch her back up, still reeling from having seen the whole delivery through the glare of his glasses after she’d declined the mirror.
“I wasn’t pregnant,” she insisted. “My husband had a vasectomy three years ago and, because of this scare, he had his sperm checked earlier this week. He’s sterile. Which means there had to have been some kind of mistake.”
“Mrs. Kelly…” He turned to look at the nurse, who, until moments before had been engrossed with straightening the counter, now listened raptly. “I don’t know what happened between you and your husband, but you were pregnant when you came to see us…” he flipped open the chart again, “two weeks ago.”
“No, I wasn’t.” Pace couldn’t believe she’d recommended him dozens of times to friends for his compassion. “I came to see you because my periods were erratic and I’d been feeling tired and occasionally dizzy. But I wasn’t pregnant, no matter what your test said.” She tightened the tissue gown around her waist in order to muster some dignity. She felt glad to be sitting on the raised examination table because she wouldn’t project much authority standing at her full five-feet-two in bare feet. “I want you to run another blood test and prove to me and my husband that I was never pregnant in the first place.”
It seemed she’d finally gotten his attention, because of her request or the near hysterical tone it was delivered in she’d never know. He sat down on the stool and swiveled in her direction. “We can re-test the blood we drew at your last visit, but if we draw a sample today it will come back negative, as my physical examination confirmed. Would you like us to re-test the original draw?”
Was he an idiot or just hard of hearing? “Yes, I’d like you to re-test the original blood sample. As soon as possible, today, STAT, or whatever you people call it. I can’t begin to tell you what this has done to my marriage.”
“Okay, Mrs. Kelly. You can get dressed and I’ll order a retest of the sample and put a rush on it.”
Pace sighed and nodded her head. “Thank you, I appreciate it.” He and the nurse left the room quickly, eager to discuss the lunatic patient with the rest of the staff she felt sure. She didn’t care that she’d raised her voice. With the level of incompetence they’d displayed, she’d have to find a new doctor anyway.
When Pace came out of the room, back in her jeans and a sweater, the Doctor informed her that the lab had destroyed the initial specimen, as was their standard procedure after seven days.
“So there’s no way to do a retest?” she asked in disbelief.
“Not on the original sample. And as I told you before, any blood we draw today will come back negative.”
“So you can’t tell me whether or not I was pregnant?”
He sighed, clearly ready to move on. With a quick glance at the nurse by his side he said, “According to your earlier test, and today’s examination, I’d have to say you were pregnant and suffered a spontaneous abortion, otherwise called a miscarriage.” He placed a conciliatory hand on her shoulder. She gripped her hands together to keep from flicking it off. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Kelly. If your bleeding persists for more than a week, please don’t hesitate to contact the office.”
Pace stared at him until he smiled weakly and turned away.
* * *
Jason thought the rough designs he dabbled with on the New York client looked good. The zoning laws for the area were strict, but forgiving and, after some research and a phone conversation, he learned the company founders liked cutting edge stuff. The project, as well as his relief at knowing Pace hadn’t cheated on him, made him remember why he’d gotten into the business in the first place. He made arrangements to head to New York the following week to do an initial pitch and gather more information. He hated leaving town again, but he felt excited by the challenge of the deal.
Tarks checked on his progress during the day, but he didn’t show him the preliminary work he’d done. Now that there wasn’t a baby on the way, his plans to leave were back on track. The New York client could become his if he decided to go ahead with his plans to leave by spring. Thank God Don had talked him into accepting the offer on the farm.
After he returned from a quick trip to the sandwich shop in the lobby, he found the office humming. The Chicago client had called and committed to using their design, prompting some serious celebration amongst Tarks and the other partners. It seemed like the black cloud that had hung over Jason’s head the last two weeks had disappeared and made him think of Pace. She didn’t answer when he phoned, so he left a message for her to get a sitter and meet him for drinks and dinner when she could.
She e-mailed around three and said she’d meet him at The Barister, their favorite bar in Midtown, just around the corner from the office. Jason was anxious to tell her about work and to bounce his plans off her for the millionth time. They’d discussed his leaving and starting his own firm in the abstract, but he wanted to do it now, buoyed by the Chicago deal and his forthcoming bonus check. He needed Pace’s support because a new firm would mean longer hours and a lot less money for awhile.
His usually punctual wife didn’t arrive on time and just as Jason pulled out his phone to call her, she walked in, her cheeks a rosy pink from the cold. She didn’t see Jason at first and wandered around the bar, flipping her head from side to side while her big brown eyes scanned the crowd. Jason watched her, his beautiful wife, and
noticed a few heads turn in her direction as she weeded her way through the crowded bar to find him. She wore a red silk blouse, his favorite color on her, and he assumed she’d deliberately worn it for him.
He reached a hand out to grab her arm as she almost passed him by. “I didn’t see you,” she said with a breathy giggle.
He kissed her as she attempted to take off her coat and, with her arms stuck behind her, she stumbled into his chest. He didn’t know why, but seeing her out at night, he felt like the young co-ed he’d once been, grateful to be in her sunny spotlight. He bit her bottom lip as he pulled back and her eyes widened in surprise. He had a sudden urge to press her against the bar and make out. “You look good, Pace.”
She sat on the stool beside him, grinning. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
They smiled at each other like a couple of teenagers. “Crown and ginger,” he told the bartender. He reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear. He could feel the cold air on her skin.
“You’re in a good mood.” She took a sip when her drink arrived. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well,” he began with a laugh. “I know you don’t want to hear this, Pace, but I’m just so damn relieved you’re not pregnant.” He watched her face fall and quickly added, “Not that I wouldn’t have loved our baby. That’s not what I mean.” He shook his head, dropped his forehead to hers. “Let me start over. I went a little nuts when I thought you’d cheated and I’m sorry.”
She jerked back from him and knocked the guy behind her. “I didn’t cheat on you, Jason.”
“I know that, I know that now.” He pulled her stool closer and leaned into her ear. “I couldn’t stand the idea, the possibility…”
“There is no possibility. I wouldn’t do that to you or to us.”
“Exactly. So knowing that, and the fact that we secured the Chicago account today, puts me in a pretty good mood. And there’s a prospect in New York that could be a big deal and one I could take with me to my new firm—now that you’re not pregnant.”
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