If Only You Knew

by Carla Fredd

  A dull, throbbing pain in her abdomen awakened her. Anna May opened her eyes slowly. Pain was no stranger to her during this time. Relief would come within minutes after she took her medication. But there was no medication for the pain in her heart

  She wasn't pregnant.

  She knew the chances of getting pregnant so early in her marriage were slim, but she'd hoped and prayed she would beat the odds. She hadn't. Slowly she sat up, then groped for the prescription in the darkness.

  "Turn on the light" Ric said. He voice was deep and rough from sleep.

  "I didn't mean to wake you," she said and turned on the lamp.

  "It's all right," he said as he rubbed his eyes. "How do you feel?"

  "I'll feel better when I take this," she said opening the childproof cap.

  "Are you in this much pain every month?"

  Taking the pill then taking a sip of water, she replied, "No. I haven't felt this badly in a while. Stress plays a part of it, too. I guess the wedding and the move here was more stressful than I thought."

  "Is there anything I can do for you?" he asked as she placed the glass on the nightstand.

  Her heart melted at his words. Despite his Ice Man persona, he cares for me, she thought. But caring wasn't enough for her. She wanted his love. Her smile was tired but tender. "There's nothing you can do, but thank you for asking."

  "Are you sure?"

  She reached out and caressed his cheek. The rough stubble of his beard and the firmness of his jaw gave her comfort. "I'm sure."

  Ric placed his hand over hers. Their gaze met, and a sense of union—two halves of a whole—filled her. Her physical pain, her disappointment at not being pregnant waned, and for a brief moment, she felt as if they'd truly come together as one.

  He gently squeezed her hand before lifting it from his cheek. Drawing her forward, he kissed the palm of her hand, letting his lips linger as if he were savoring the tender moment. A comforting warmth flowed inside her.

  "Good night, Anna May."

  "Night," she replied and turned out the light. Darkness filled the room. Anna May pulled the covers over her shoulders and lay on her side. As she waited for sleep to overcome her, doubts and fears began to fester and multiply.

  Could she have a child? What if despite everything, she didn't get pregnant?

  She turned to the other side of the bed, trying to ignore the questions in her mind. But the questions kept coming. What would happen to their relationship? Could she pretend to be just his friend ever again?

  No, she thought. She had reached the point of no return. Her feelings toward Ric had changed, grown to the point where she could no longer hide behind the mask of friendship. She knew what it was like to love him mentally and physically.

  She turned back to her original position. So many things could go wrong. So many things were out of control in her life. What made her think this plan of hers would work? Was she fooling herself?

  She stiffened in surprise when he put his arm over her waist and curved his body to hers.

  "What's the matter?" he asked, his voice smooth and relaxed.

  "I'm scared," she replied in a shaky tone.

  "Scared of what?"

  "What if I don't get pregnant? What if those tests were wrong and there is something wrong with me?"

  He kissed her cheek tenderly as he caressed her arm and shoulder, then said softly, "There's nothing wrong with you. Didn't your doctor encourage you to have a child?"

  "Yes," she whispered.

  "Do you think your doctor would have said to have a child if you couldn't?"

  "No," she said reluctantly. "But what if I don't. I can't imagine not having a child of my own. I know it's old-fashioned, but I want to be a mommy. I want to have a large family. Bake cookies. Go to Little League or cheerleading practice. Sometimes when I'm baby-sitting Noriah, I pretend she's my little girl, and I don't really want her to go home when Marianne comes to take her home."

  "Give it time. It will happen." He squeezed her shoulder in reassurance.

  "I hope so."

  "Hey, you're not giving up, are you?" he drawled, pressing his lips to her temple. "We've just started. Don't you know that practice makes perfect?"

  "I know but ..." Her tone filled with doubt

  "None of that. It'll happen. You'll see," he said resting his chin lightly on the crown of her head.

  Anna May lay in his arms in silence, wanting desperately to believe him but fear, like a dark cloud on the horizon, cast a shadow of doubt on her hopes and dreams. She prayed for a miracle. She prayed for a family of her own.

  "The city of Atlanta awarded their bid today. Adam Wilson's company lost the bid," Warren Morgan said as he looked through the stack of papers in front of him.

  From the opposite side of the conference table, Ric listened to Morgan's announcement in silence. The weak winter sun broke through the clouds, sending beams of pale sunshine through Ric's office.

  The joy and triumph Ric expected to feel just wasn't there. He had the power to destroy his stepfather's company, and if Evan Wilson was still president, Ric wouldn't hesitate to do it. But from the information he'd gathered on his brother, Adam's style of management was nothing like his father's.

  "That puts Wilson in a rough spot. Without that bid, it's only a matter of months before he's out of business," Ric said.

  "True," Morgan agreed. "But he's generated more revenue since he's taken over the company than was raised in the past two years. If he had taken over a year earlier, he'd be making record profits. Adam Wilson is good—and with our backing, he could be great."

  "Being good isn't going to help his company. If he doesn't get our backing, he'll be forced to shut down."

  Morgan placed the papers he was holding on the table, then leaned back in his chair. "I thought we were buying his company. Have you changed your mind?"

  "I'm going to buy Wilson and Wilson," he said with conviction. "The question is when."

  "When? Are you thinking about waiting until he goes under before you buy the company?"

  "That is an option."

  "Why? Wilson's proposal is fair. If you bought him out now, you'd spend about the same amount as you would when he goes bankrupt, and the employees of Wilson and Wilson would probably stay now. If you wait, some of the best employees might look for another place to work."

  "There's no guarantee they'll stay after I buy the company, either."

  Morgan studied his employer. "You've made your decision already."

  "Send a letter to Adam Wilson. Tell him the Justice Company has declined his proposal," Ric said.

  Morgan folded his arms, and the pristine white cotton shirt stretched tightly across his chest. "I don't get it, Justice. If it was Jamison we were talking about, I'd agree to wait, but Wilson is a smart businessman, and he has the potential to do excellent work and earn millions for the company. I think you're making a mistake on this one."

  "We'll see. What's next?" Ric replied.

  Realizing he'd come to a brick wall, Morgan dropped the subject. "That's all I have for now on Wilson. I've heard Jamison is getting nervous now that we've backed out of buying his company."

  "Jamison should be nervous. If we found out he embezzled funds, then criminal charges should be in store for him soon," Ric said.

  "His stockholders are dumping their shares on the market, and there are rumors out that the remaining stockholders plan to audit the finances of the company. Jamison wasn't happy when we started questioning his company's accounting practices."

  "I'm glad we're not in that mess," Ric said.

  "We may not be completely out of it because we were negotiating to purchase his company. It's a case of guilt by association. The legal department has copies of every piece of documentation we've received and sent to Jamison. Any additional letters need to go through legal first. I have a feeling we're going to have to prove we're not involved with Jamison. Jamison seems to be the type to take people with him if he's going down. I would
n't put it past him to try to get us involved with his dirty dealings."

  "Keep me posted on it, and keep me posted on Wilson, too."

  "Of course. I still think you're making a mistake by not accepting Wilson's proposal," Morgan said as he gathered the papers in front of him.

  Ric smiled then said, "Let's agree to disagree on this one, Morgan."

  Morgan rose from his chair. "Would you care to make a small wager on Wilson and Wilson? If I remember correctly, the last time we agreed to disagree, I won the bet."

  "That was sheer luck," Ric said as he stood.

  "I prefer to think of it as skill. Your box at the Dome is first class."

  Ric raised a single brow. He'd wagered and lost his box seats for three Atlanta Falcons home football games the last time they disagreed. Watching the Falcons play football in the Dome was one of the few indulgences he allowed himself. Missing those last three games had been difficult. "I'm glad you enjoyed the seats, but they're useless now that football season is over. Besides, what is there to bet on? Wilson is going to be mad when I buy his company."

  "True. But it would have been nice to get your tickets to the Falcons games," Morgan replied as he walked to the door.

  "Better luck next time," Ric said.

  Morgan opened the door. "Not luck, skill," he said then walked out, closing the door behind him.

  Ric walked to his desk. The corners of his lips curved slightly. Morgan could afford to buy box seats in each city that had a professional football team, but it was the thrill of winning using his own skills, and not money, that motivated him. Those traits were perfect for his position as senior business manager.

  They had disagreed on a few occasions, and over the years, they'd come to respect each other's opinion. Compromise was usually how they resolved the difference of opinion. However, he couldn't compromise on the subject of Wilson and Wilson. So much of his life had been shaped by decisions made by Evan Wilson. Now it was time he shaped Evan Wilson's life.

  "Mr. Justice?" Mrs. Jones called from her position in the doorway of his office.

  "Yes," Ric answered, placing his pen on the desk. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the carefully wrapped gift in her arms. Another secretary stood behind her also bearing gifts.

  "The employees wanted to get you and your new wife a wedding gift," Mrs. Jones said.

  "That wasn't necessary," he said as the women placed the boxes on his desk.

  "We know it's not necessary, but we wanted to," the other woman said.

  "Thank you," he said feeling slightly uncomfortable accepting gifts from his employees.

  "Don't open them now," Mrs. Jones said. "Take them home so that you and your wife can open them together."

  "I'll do that," he replied.

  "Well, have a good evening, Mr. Justice. We'll see you tomorrow." The women walked out of his office.

  Ric looked at the gifts on his desk. He could almost see the expression on Anna May's face when he brought them home. Her brown eyes would light up with excitement like they had a few weeks ago when they were married.

  Although he felt uncomfortable receiving gifts from his employees, he hoped they would take her mind off the pain she was in. Last night for the first time, he'd seen firsthand how much pain she suffered. How she'd kept that from him all these years, he didn't know. He thought he'd known almost everything about Anna May, but he realized he'd only seen a part of the total woman.

  He glanced at his watch. If he left his office now, he could beat the traffic. Ric cleared his desk, gathered the gifts, and walked out of his office. Mrs. Jones looked up from her computer when he stopped at her desk.

  "I'm going home now. Thank you again for the gifts."

  She raised her brow in surprise. "You're welcome. I hope Mrs. Justice enjoys them."

  With a nod Ric strode out of the office and headed home.

  Music greeted him as he entered the kitchen. Ric hoped this meant Anna May was feeling better. He placed the gifts on the dinette table ready to go search for his wife when she walked in. Her cream silk blouse molded to her soft form, and the navy skirt hugged her hips. Her business image was shattered when he noticed the bright pink polish on her toenails.

  "Oh, you're home early," she said.

  "What good is being the boss if you can't come home early every once in a while? I didn't think you were going to work today," he said as he studied her face for signs of pain.

  She waved away his concern. "I felt better, so I went to the office. What's this?" she asked pointing to the boxes on the table.

  "Wedding gifts from my employees," Ric said.

  Her eyes brightened with anticipation. "Oh, that was nice of them. Let's open them now."

  "Go ahead," he said as he took off his jacket then leaned against the counter.

  "Here. Read the card," she said giving him the small envelope.

  Ric pushed away from the counter, draped his jacket over the chair, then took the envelope. "It says: To Mr. and Mrs. Garrick Justice from the human resources department. Best wishes on your recent marriage."

  Placing the card on the table, he watched as she literally tore into the gifts. Long, ragged strips of wrapping paper were removed in quick succession. Within seconds, she'd opened the first gift.

  "How pretty," she said removing the delicate figurine from the protective bubble wrap. The man and woman stood side by side dressed in their wedding garb. The primitive yet simplistic style of the piece was the mark of an internationally acclaimed African-American artist. "This will look perfect next to our wedding picture."

  Ric studied the figurine. "It's too valuable to leave unprotected. We should put it somewhere safe."

  "No, don't do that. We would never enjoy it if it's locked up someplace."

  "We'd never enjoy it if it's broken," he replied.

  "Why don't I move our wedding picture from the end table in the living room to the mantel in the den. The statue would be less likely to be knocked over if it's on a mantel than the end table."

  "I don't see how the mantel is any safer than the table. The statue should be behind glass somewhere, protected."

  "Your car is more valuable, and you don't put it behind glass."

  "That's different."

  "How?"

  "My car is a tool. A means to an end. The statue is decorative."

  "The statue is like a tool. It builds memories and evokes feelings. Your car gets you from point A to point B. Art like this statue takes you from emotion to emotion. I think the people in your office gave us this gift so we could enjoy it not hide it."

  Ric held up his hands in surrender. "All right, we'll keep it in the den."

  "Good," she said. Anna May set the statue on the table and picked up the next gift. After she removed the wrapping paper and opened the box, she smiled. "I think this is for you."

  It was a gift certificate for the local do-it-yourself store and a Honey-Do List notepad. Anna May opened the card. "It's from the security guards," she said.

  "I always liked those guys," he said as he held the gift certificate.

  "Why don't you buy stock in the store? You're in there all the time."

  "I've got stock already," he replied.

  She smiled. "I should have known you would."

  "I know a good company when I see one."

  "And I know good people. The gifts are really nice, Ric. I'd like to personally thank them," she said.

  "Why don't we have lunch one day this week, then I can introduce you to everybody."

  Anna May rubbed her lower back in an attempt to ease the tension. "That sounds good."

  "Does your back hurt?"

  "It doesn't hurt exactly—my muscles are tight. It will go away by tomorrow."

  "Do you want a back rub? It might help," he added when he noticed her skeptical expression.

  "It might hurt."

  "Just try it. If it hurts, I'll stop."

  She thought about it for a few seconds, then shrugged her shoulders.
"Okay, give it a try."

  "Let's go to the den. I need you to lie on your stomach," he said.

  "This isn't sounding good, Ric. My stomach hurts," she replied as she stood.

  Ric stood beside her. "If it hurts you to lie on your stomach, then I won't give you a back rub."

  "Okay."

  The warmth of the fire in the fireplace filled the den. Pictures of her family were scattered around the room, and her knickknacks seemed to have a spot on every available surface.

  She stretched out on the sofa with her cheek resting on her folded arms.

  "How do you feel? Does that hurt?" Ric asked.

  "I'm okay."

  He kneeled on the floor beside the sofa. Slowly he massaged her shoulders, using the tips of his fingers and the palms of his hands to soothe and release the tension. Anna May felt the warmth of his hand through her thin silk blouse. "Ah," she moaned as he unraveled the knot of tension between her shoulders.

  His hands became still. "Did that hurt? Do you want me to stop?" he asked.

  "No, don't stop. It feels good."

  He smiled then continued to stroke her taut muscles. Her eyelids fluttered then closed when he reached the small of her back. No drug could make her feel the way she felt at this very moment. Cherished, relaxed, and if she let herself dream, she felt loved.

  Chapter 12

  Anna May slowly opened her eyes. Still groggy from the medication, she wondered why she was on the couch. The dull ache in her stomach reminded her.

  She wasn't pregnant.

  No matter how many times she told herself not to expect to get pregnant so soon after her marriage, she had still wished, she had still prayed that she was pregnant. Her wish had gone unfulfilled.