Close to Her Heart

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Close to Her Heart Page 2

by C. J. Carmichael

“I can’t remember the last time I had a glass of milk,” Eliot said after his first sip. “Not bad.” He was working on downing the glass, like it was a medicinal necessity, when his phone began playing the opening music from The Good Wife, a signal that this was a work call, probably one of his female clients.

  Eliot was one of the city’s top divorce attorneys, known for his ability to reach settlements without the need for courtroom drama. Dani had heard him on enough phone calls to know he had excellent behind-the-scenes negotiating abilities, and a sympathetic and charming manner with his clients. Though he claimed he hadn’t intended his practice to include only female clients, somehow most of them were. His boyish good looks probably had something to do with that. Not to mention, his incredible capacity for sympathetic listening.

  Though she knew Eliot was too ethical to actually get involved romantically with any of these women, the way he spoke to them, Dani was sure the majority fell at least a little in love with him.

  Eliot set down the glass and pulled out his phone, speaking in his professional you can count on me voice. “Eliot Gilmore. Hi, Christine. How are you doing?”

  Dani smirked. When he raised his eyebrows at her, she found a tissue then wiped off his milk moustache.

  Eliot succumbed to the clean-up, standing perfectly still. His eyes were on hers as he spoke into the phone. “How upsetting for you,” he said, sounding as if one-hundred percent of his concentration was on the woman on the other end of the conversation. Then, when Dani had finished wiping the film of milk from his upper lip, he turned, moving to the windows and the view of the Sound. “Did he really? Your husband is going to pay for that.”

  Once when she’d asked why Eliot had chosen to specialize in divorce law, he’d replied, in all seriousness, “We all have to follow where our talents lead us. You’re good at analyzing early childhood factors that lead to academic success in later years. I’m good at helping people split up.”

  He was a funny guy, Eliot. He always delivered lines like that with a straight face, so she could never tell if he was poking fun, or not.

  Leaving him alone to talk with his client, Dani went to her bedroom where she changed out of the slacks, blouse and jacket she’d worn to work that day, first undoing the safety pin she’d used to hold the waist band together. She had to go maternity wear shopping this weekend. Nothing was fitting anymore.

  Except her yoga clothes.

  She put on a pair of stretchy black capris, then a wine-colored, long-sleeved t-shirt that hugged the new curve in her tummy in a gentle, but obvious way. For a minute, she studied her profile in the full-length mirror at the back of her walk-in closet. She put a hand on the bump and told herself it was going to be okay. Her mother had delivered four healthy daughters. Her sister Mattie’s twins had been perfect, too.

  By the time she returned to the living room, Eliot was ending his conversation. But he hadn’t yet slipped the phone back into his pocket when it started ringing again, this time with the theme music from The Game of Thrones, their favorite show. Which meant it was Miriam.

  “Sweetie.” Eliot’s tone was brighter and more relaxed than the one he’d used with his client. He listened a bit then said, “I’m with her right now. Why don’t you—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Dani’s door was opened and Miriam walked in looking perfect, as usual, in a black skirt and lacy black top. Miriam only wore the one color—and why not?—it looked fabulous on her. She had smooth, delicate features, shiny black hair, and dark eyes fringed with thick, sooty lashes. Her parents had moved to Vancouver from Hong Kong before it reverted to Chinese control and Miriam had grown up in Canada. She’d gone to college at UW though, and claimed to have no interest in ever moving back to the northern country.

  After earning her masters in English Literature, Miriam had taken on a variety of vague internet publishing jobs. Though she never shared details, Dani gathered that she designed book covers and edited manuscripts for authors of self-published books. At least once a month she went to visit her parents in Vancouver but only for a few days.

  Her life plan, she’d told Dani and Eliot, was to meet someone half-way tolerable and have a Green Card wedding, so she could get her American citizenship. Miriam’s definition of “half-way tolerable” was probably more like Dani’s “close to perfect.” Miriam was always going for first dates with men she’d vetted on various Internet dating sites. Almost never, did she go on a second.

  Dani knew all about wanting to escape the place you came from. It was why she was where she was, a successful academic at one of the best universities on the West Coast. Otherwise, she’d be cleaning horse poop from stalls back in Montana.

  Okay. Maybe not the fairest way to describe the work that her sisters Callan and Mattie loved so much. But still. Not for her.

  “So the party is on?” Miriam asked, looking puzzled. “I thought it was going to be at your place?” She glanced at Eliot when she said this. Then her attention went from him to the half-full glass of milk still in his hand, and the second, empty but filmed glass on the counter.

  “So what are we drinking tonight?”

  Before either Eliot or Dani could say anything, Miriam took Eliot’s glass and had a swallow.

  “Eww. What is this?”

  This time Dani had no trouble getting the joke. She and Eliot both laughed so hard, neither one of them could answer for about ten seconds. Finally Dani managed to say, “m-milk,” which only made Miriam frown more deeply.

  “Why the hell are the two of you drinking milk?”

  Eliot glanced at her, raising his eyebrows with theatrical significance. Obviously this was her news to spill. Dani took a deep breath, then splayed her hands over her tummy and turned so Miriam could see her silhouette.

  “Oh. My. God.” Miriam put both hands to her face.

  Dani stood there, feeling self-conscious as both her friends stared at her tiny baby bump.

  “So,” Miriam spoke slowly. “This is why you’ve been avoiding us? And here I thought you were offended by my Christmas gift.”

  The gift had been a bit of a sore spot. A T-shirt printed with the slogan: I could be social. Or I could read. (I’m going to read.)

  Dani had wanted to protest when she opened it. “What do you mean? I’m social. Aren’t I?” But she supposed by some standards, she wasn’t. And she did have to admit that she had a reputation for refusing to go along on Miriam’s shopping trips and Eliot’s afternoon matinees when she was in the middle of a good novel.

  Still, the t-shirt’s indictment had hurt. Especially when Eliot had hooted with laughter after reading it.

  “I haven’t been avoiding you. I’ve been avoiding alcohol.”

  “There’s a difference?” Eliot deadpanned.

  “Exactly.” He’d made her point. “Since we always drink when we get together in the evenings, what choice did I have?”

  “You mean other than the truth?” Miriam shrugged one of her petite shoulders. “You could have told us you were pregnant.”

  Dani let out an exasperated sigh. How many people were going to be pissed with her that she hadn’t shared her news sooner? Fortunately, Eliot saved her from having to respond this time.

  “She needed time to process. To re-vision her life. And yes,” Eliot looked up from his phone, which had captured his interest for the third time that afternoon. “She’s going to keep the kid. Who happens to be due mid-September.”

  “Thank you for the brief,” Miriam said.

  “It’s what we lawyers do best.” He hesitated. “Actually, second-best—” a wolfish grin left them with no doubt as to what was first on the list.

  “So what does Adri—?”

  Again Eliot cut in. “He doesn’t know.”

  “Oh?”

  The disapproving arch in Miriam’s eyebrows was even more condemning than that one worded question. Dani reacted by turning her back on the both of them, filling her watering can and going to tend the plants lined up like refug
ees on her windowsill.

  One thing she’d loved about growing up in Montana, was working with her mother in their large vegetable and flower gardens. She didn’t have a yard in her condo, obviously. But she collected houseplants from people who didn’t have green thumbs. Her collection included an English Ivy from Eliot, a Jade plant from Miriam and several African violets from Mr. Boswell down the hall. Usually by the time people gave her their plants, they were almost dead. But she watered, fertilized and pinched them back to health, like a fussy mother hen.

  Gently, Dani touched one of the velvety leaves of the plant she’d just finished dousing with water. Two years ago, this delicate violet had been flowerless, with only a half dozen green leaves still on the stem. Now it displayed a profusion of pink flowers. She found this very satisfying. And calming.

  “Okay. Enough avoiding the subject,” Miriam said firmly. “Have you really not told Adrian that you’re pregnant with his baby?”

  Dani folded her arms defensively over her chest. “I’m telling him on Sunday. We have lunch plans.”

  “You mean he actually slotted you in on the weekend?” Miriam gave her a thumbs up.

  “Only because Ava’s been invited to a neighbor’s birthday party.” It was ridiculous, but sometimes her relationship with Adrian felt almost illicit. They were two unmarried, consenting adults. It shouldn’t be this difficult.

  “Are you afraid he’s going to ask you to terminate?” Miriam asked.

  Dani stared at her, astounded. Miriam was always blunt. But this was a bit much—or was it? Maybe the reason she objected to the question was because she was afraid it might be true. “I have no idea how he’s going to react,” she admitted. “I’m hoping—he’ll feel the same as me.”

  Miriam and Eliot exchanged a quick glance. The flash of doubt in their faces told Dani that they were worried she was going to get hurt. But they didn’t know Adrian. And they’d always been prejudiced against him.

  “Well, whatever Adrian says, this is exciting news.” Miriam crossed the room and offered her arms. Dani had to crouch a little to hug the petite woman, but it did feel nice all the same.

  “If you need someone to take you maternity clothes shopping, I’m your girl.”

  Dani smiled her gratitude. “That’s exactly what I need.”

  “But first a Rumi Cube tournament,” Eliot said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “And some real cocktails. Give me a minute to hunt down the ingredients for virgin mojitos. I have some fresh mint in my fridge.”

  “Virgin? You guys don’t have to stop drinking alcohol because of me.”

  “Consider it an act of solidarity.” Eliot flashed her a smile before taking off on his mission. As he closed the door, Miriam let out a groan.

  “When did you say your baby is due?”

  “October first.”

  “That’s a long time to go without alcohol.”

  Dani put a hand on her stomach. “Tell me about it.”

  *

  Happy Hour parties usually lasted well past midnight, but by ten o’clock that evening, Dani had her home to herself. Eliot had taken his iPod with him so the place was quiet. Her blender was soaking in the sink. She wasn’t sure if the green scum would ever come off. Eliot’s concoction of virgin mojitos had actually tasted great—and had even looked pretty when served in her fancy margarita glasses.

  But the lack of alcohol had definitely put a damper on the evening. Miriam, in her usual forthright way, had said it best.

  “I’m not sure I like you guys when you’re sober.”

  Was that the problem? Were they all dull when they weren’t drinking?

  It was a sobering—ha-ha—thought.

  But not, Dani suspected, the truth.

  It was her news that had taken the fizz out of the evening. Eliot and Miriam weren’t sure how to treat her now. And they were apprehensive about her decision to keep the baby, Dani could tell.

  Which made her just the smallest bit angry. Just because they couldn’t imagine raising a child, didn’t mean they should automatically assume she was incapable.

  On—maybe she was? Especially if the baby was born with—…extra challenges.

  All night she’d been avoiding thinking about what the ultrasound had shown. But the worry had planted like a seed in her gut and it was growing larger with every hour. She’d studied Down Syndrome in a Life Span Development course when she was getting her masters. She understood the science, knew that the congenital defects were the result of an extra twenty-first chromosome.

  In practical terms, a baby with Down Syndrome was going to have both cognitive and physical challenges, of varying degrees of severity.

  Dani went into the room she used for her office, custom designed with built-in bookshelves and drawers she used for her files. The long desk faced an oil painting of Paradise Valley, her long-ago Montana home. There were no ranches or buildings of any kind in her painting. Just nature. Mountains and sky that took on different hues depending on the amount of light coming in the window. That was true in real life, too. Depending on the time of day, and even her mood, she always saw something different when she was driving the long road that curved along the floor of that valley. The painting reminded her that while she hadn’t enjoyed growing up on a ranch, she’d been lucky to be surrounded by so much beauty.

  She sat in her office chair, then swiveled to face the filing cabinets. It took only a few minutes to locate her old notes from the Life Span course. She had a very organized filing system.

  Once she’d scanned through that information, she still had questions, so she turned to the Internet. She searched for books and downloaded a few. She devoured several of the stories about children and their families and found them reassuring. Many of the less-severely affected children eventually reached the same milestones as “normal” children. They sat up and crawled, learned to walk, and eventually to talk as well. Some were able to graduate high school, hold a job, and in many respects live a so-called “normal” life.

  It’s going to be okay. If it happens—I can handle it.

  But. There was a good chance it wouldn’t happen. Her research had reassured her that Down Syndrome couldn’t be identified accurately via ultrasound at sixteen weeks. She wasn’t going to panic. After all, she was under the age threshold of thirty-five years, at which point the chances of a mother having an affected baby went up.

  Yeah. But only one year under that threshold…

  Eventually, she went to bed. And eventually she also fell asleep.

  *

  Damn it, this was stupid. Eliot rolled over in bed frustrated that he was still awake. He never had trouble sleeping. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Dani and the fact that she was pregnant. How could she have let that happen? Bad enough that she was dating—or sneaking around with—that self-absorbed bastard from her work. Eliot had been waiting for her to come to her senses and realize she deserved more from a man than occasional dinners and romps in the sack.

  But this was a big setback to that plan.

  Finally, he fell asleep, but only fitfully. When dawn came he was happy to give up on a lost cause and go out for his morning run. Often Dani joined him, but today it was too early to knock on her door and ask her along.

  Just as well. Eliot needed some thinking time. He set a pace faster than usual, but not fast enough to escape the basic facts of the situation. Dani Carrigan, the woman who was supposed to soon realize that Adrian Carlson was a jerk and break up with him, now seemed to be in more in love with the cad than ever. And was having his baby.

  That last one was the zinger. Eliot had stick-handled enough divorces to know that it wasn’t marriage certificates that kept couples together. It was children. This baby would forever tie Dani and Adrian together, which he was sure was not in Dani’s best interests.

  Not that Eliot was in love with Dani himself. But he did like her and consider her one of the loveliest women he’d ever met. She was brainy, but sweet, and despite her so
phistication in many areas had remnants of country charm that he found completely disarming.

  A woman of Dani Carrigan’s calibre deserved a man who placed her at the center of his world. Not in a corner.

  After his five mile route, Eliot showered and tried to read the morning paper until he judged it was late enough to call on Dani. He went out first, to pick up flowers and a take-out breakfast sandwich from B.B.’s. He bought one for himself, too, and downed the delicious egg, cheese and spinach sandwiched between halves of a warm buttermilk biscuit, in four bites.

  Yum. Apparently his sleepless night wasn’t affecting his appetite.

  It was just after ten when he tapped on Dani’s door. As soon as he saw her he could tell she’d had a restless night, too.

  “Trouble sleeping?”

  “Yeah. I mostly read and watched old episodes of The Big Bang Theory.”

  He didn’t admit to his own insomnia, because the underlying causes had to be concealed. If he confessed her predicament had rendered him sleepless, too, she might jump to some wrong conclusions about his feelings for her. For instance, the urge he had to pull her into his arms right now was merely friendly. But since that, too, might be misconstrued he merely kissed her lightly on the forehead before presenting her with the spring blossoms.

  “For the mother-to-be. Miriam and I were in shock yesterday. Forgive us if we weren’t appropriately congratulatory.”

  “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” She added water, then placed them on the low table in the living room. As she padded back to the kitchen table, she focused on his soft leather loafers, then glanced up past the pressed blue jeans to his striped shirt and linen blazer, both rolled up at the cuffs.

  She shook her head. “You look so good. And you’ve already showered, which means you’ve been out for your run. And been shopping. What time did you get up?”

  “Six.- Ish.”

  “I used to have energy once, too. I think. Back in the days when I could still drink caffeine.”

  “You do look tired. And aren’t those the same clothes you were wearing yesterday?” He hadn’t thought Lycra could wrinkle. But hers certainly had. That didn’t stop her from looking beautiful. Dani was always beautiful. And so gorgeously unaware of the fact.

 

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