“Oh. There,” she said, glancing at him. “Did you feel it?”
“Wait. That was—” The baby moved again. “That’s the baby? It feels like little bubbles bursting against my fingers.”
“That’s how it feels to me, too.”
John’s expression was incredulous as the baby kicked again. “Oh, my God, Sam. This is—” His voice caught. “Amazing.”
His eyes were smoky in the shade of the awning. His gaze held hers as his hand gently pressed against the life inside her. Some type of primitive current connected the three of them — mother, father, baby. And for a moment, Sam felt a sense of wholeness she’d never felt before.
Someone in the crowd jostled them and John’s hand fell away. “So, what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” he asked with a lazy grin.
God, it was good to see him, she thought with the same inner yearning she’d felt these past months every time she pictured him in her mind. “I’m headed to a dinner party later and needed to pick up some flowers.” She held up her bouquet. “What about you? Picking up something for dinner?”
He nodded. “Are you in a hurry, or can you walk with me to the fish counter?”
A few minutes later, they’d pushed their way through the crowded outdoor aisles and John studied the whole salmon stacked on ice. He pointed to one of the smaller fish and requested it be cut into steaks.
The young man behind the counter lifted the fish in both hands and tossed it high into the air over his shoulder, where a worker at least six feet away caught it. A smattering of applause erupted from the people mingling nearby, waiting for just this sight. The flash of a camera popped. Fish tossing at the Market was a huge tourist draw.
As the fish was cut and wrapped, Sam asked, “How is everything progressing with the center?”
“It’s coming along. We’re hoping to open in January.”
She smiled, happy for him and proud of him. “And the kids, how are they doing?”
“Fine. A few have dropped out, but most are still coming to the program.”
“And Brian?” She was interested in knowing these things, but what she really wanted to ask was, “Do you miss me as much as I miss you?”
“Brian’s doing great. In fact, he’s living with me now.”
“Really? How’d that happen?”
He told her how Brian called him for help one night after getting beat up by his mom’s boyfriend. “After he was examined by the hospital, Social Services was brought in. They sent someone out to talk to his mother, Earl was arrested, and… it just sort of happened that Brian moved in with me.”
“Wow. Is this a temporary thing or—”
He nodded. “I have guardianship of him while his mom goes through rehab. Despite what a crappy job she’s done as a mother, the kid still loves her. I make sure he gets over to visit her on a regular basis.”
Tears welled in Sam’s eyes. She figured John was probably footing the bill for Mrs. Carsten’s rehab. He was such a nice man.
“What’s wrong?”
She sniffed and waved her hands. “Oh, I get emotional pretty easily these days. Must be my maternal side.”
The young man behind the counter tossed John the paper-wrapped bundle of salmon steaks.
“Did you walk here from your office?” John asked as they left the covered aisles and stepped into the sunlight. When she nodded, he said, “You want company for the walk back?”
“I would, except I’m meeting a girlfriend down here — the one who’s hosting the party tonight. She’s giving me a ride.” She pulled her sunglasses from the top of her head, but before putting them on, asked, “Would— would you like to come along? I know Nina and Zach wouldn’t mind. In fact, they told me to bring a date, but it’s kind of hard to find one looking like this.” She thrust her stomach forward and pulled her dress taut over it, giggling.
He lifted the black sunglasses that hung against his chest and positioned them on his tanned face. “I’d love to, Sam, but… I can’t. I have other plans tonight.”
It dawned on her what those plans were. The vegetables, the fresh salmon. She swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “You have a date, don’t you? You’re making dinner for her.”
He looked embarrassed. “Well, I—”
“John, it’s okay,” she said, glad she sounded unruffled. She slipped her sunglasses onto the bridge of her nose. “It’s no big deal, I didn’t really expect you’d be free.” She forced a friendly smile, but her lips trembled at the corners.
“Thanks for asking though.” His voice sounded stiff.
“Rusty? Was that her name?” Sam asked, upset she couldn’t just drop the matter. His love life was his business. She and John hadn’t even spoken since the fundraiser; what right did she have to be jealous? None. Absolutely none. It was these hormones causing the Little Green Monster to rear its ugly head.
His brows furrowed. “Who? Oh, you mean ‘Dusty.’ No, she and I aren’t seeing each other any more.”
She cheered inside. The cheering faded. He still had a date tonight. Okay, dammit, she was jealous.
She forced a teasing grin onto her face. “Boy, you’re just a regular Don Juan, aren’t you, Mr. Everest?”
He grimaced. “Hardly. It’s not—”
“Well, I’m jealous.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise. “You are?” he asked.
“Yes. My social life has been nil lately. I’m sure you can imagine I don’t get asked out on many dates these days. It’s only going to get worse, too. I mean, look at me. I’m already four pounds ahead of where I should be. I’ll be a moose by the time this baby is born. I really should start walking or taking a pregnancy exercise class or something. I just hate formal exercise. I’d rather go hiking in the mountains or water ski, both of which are difficult when you’re pregnant. Of course, it would help if I didn’t eat for two at every opportunity.” She forced another giggle.
John’s hand grazed her cheek and stopped her laughter like a cork in the mouth. “This is hard on you, isn’t it?” he asked quietly.
“What?” She maneuvered away from his gentle touch, not liking how good it felt. “What are you talking about?”
He took off his sunglasses. His blue eyes were intense. “The only time you ramble on like that is when you’re angry or nervous about something. It bothers you that I have a date.”
John was too perceptive for his own good, his voice too gentle for her own good. She was glad for the cover her sunglasses provided because tears welled in her eyes. He reached for her glasses and plucked them from her face. Sam was mortified when a fat tear fell onto her cheek.
She swiped it away. “I’m just hormonal, John. I get emotional at the littlest thing these days.” She stepped backward. “The other day I went to Nordstrom to buy shoes. When the salesclerk told me they didn’t have my size, I started crying. Isn’t that silly? The poor woman even offered to order my size from another store. It ruined my whole afternoon.” She sniffled and rooted through her purse for a tissue. Finding one, she blew her nose. She looked up at John. “Honestly, it’s just these hormones.”
“You’re sure?” He stepped closer. He looked like he wanted to touch her. And Lord how she wanted him to touch her.
She took another step backward, away from him, nodding stiltedly, pretty sure she had her emotions back under control. But without warning, another batch of tears cascaded onto her cheeks. “God, what is wrong with me?”
John pulled her into his arms. She was aware they attracted considerable attention — a pregnant woman bawling in the arms of a gorgeous hunk. But she didn’t care. It felt so good to be held again. It felt so good to be held again by him. She leaned into him, his arms solid bands around her, until this silly episode passed. Finally, she giggled. “I’m sorry,” she murmured into his shirt that bore the dark stains from her tears.
The rumblings of a deep chuckle inside his chest vibrated against her ear. “Hey, what are friends for?”
Stepping out of his embrace, she reached for her package of tissue again. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Wordlessly, he handed her sunglasses over. She didn’t immediately put them on.
She stared at the ground, focusing on a crack in the pavement, watching an ant stagger across it carrying a crumb three times its size. John inadvertently crushed the insect with his left foot as he shifted position. For one ridiculous moment, Sam thought she would cry again. Over an ant.
She squinted her eyes in the bright sunlight. “Do you ever wish our situations were different, that we’d met long before I decided to get pregnant?”
The question caught John off guard. He didn’t quite know how to answer it. She spoke again before he could figure it out. “I mean, I think we might have been good together, you know?”
“Even had we met earlier, you’d still have hated me on sight and would’ve refused to go out with me. The only reason you agreed this time was because you had an ulterior motive.”
She blushed and giggled. “True. Although you’d have pestered me until I caved in.”
“True.” He chuckled. “But to answer your question — yes, I’ve wished that and yes, I think we would’ve been great together.” He paused. “I know we would have.”
He didn’t tell her how at times he resented that little life inside her for putting a stop to their relationship. But seeing Sam’s radiance, her obvious joy at being pregnant — besides the occasional hormonal outburst as just witnessed — erased his selfish resentment. He’d never seen her so full of life. On one hand, that made him happy, but on the other hand…
Sam sighed. “But I guess it wouldn’t have worked in the long run. Because I’ve always wanted kids and you…” She glanced away.
John didn’t deny her statement. She was right. But as if to contradict his thoughts, a vivid image of him holding Sam’s baby — his baby — in his arms, flooded his mind. Unlike other times he’d inadvertently conjured up this mental picture, this time he didn’t get all nervous and light-headed. The feeling he had right now was more like the warmth in your gut after downing a slug of hard liquor. Not an unpleasant feeling. Before he could begin to interpret what this might mean, she spoke again.
“I guess I just miss you, John. I’ve lost a friend. You and I shared some special times and I—”
“Sam. We had to part company. We both knew it. We… were getting too close, too emotional.”
“I know,” she said quietly. “But it’s been nearly five months. I know it would be foolish to begin a romantic relationship again, but…” She met his eyes. “It’s just so good to see you, and I can’t imagine going another five months—” Her voice caught.
John couldn’t imagine it either. But could he stand to see her on a regular or somewhat regular basis knowing a platonic friendship was as far as their relationship would go? Probably not. Then again, not seeing her at all…
He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, and she closed her eyes. “Play with fire and you’re going to get burned,” he murmured, and dropped his hand.
Her eyes drifted open. “Not if we’re smart about it,” she said. “I’m not saying we see each other every day or anything, or even every week — that would be too hard.” She glanced away a moment and cleared her throat. “But we’re adults. I think we can handle it, don’t you?”
No, he thought. “Sure,” he said.
Sam put on her sunglasses. “If we feel like seeing each other, we should see each other.”
But he felt like seeing her every day. Every night. But he didn’t think that’s what she had in mind, he thought. “You’re right,” he said.
“Our offices are so close. It would be easy for us to meet for coffee or something every now and then.”
Easy for her. She wasn’t the one crazy in love, he thought. “Very easy,” he said.
It wasn’t long before their occasional lunch dates became a weekly habit. During their time together, they talked about everything under the sun — the youth center, politics, their families, movies, books. Anything and everything. And sometimes they talked about the baby. Whenever the subject came up, Sam would get a dreamy, goofy expression on her face and she’d look nothing like the sexy siren she’d been when he first met her. Of course, he still thought she was sexy. He wished he didn’t think so. It would make seeing her easier on his heart. Because every time he saw her, she looked even more beautiful and he loved her a little bit more.
If he was smart, he’d stop seeing her altogether. They could both get on with their lives as planned.
Apparently he wasn’t smart.
Except for talk of the baby, they never spoke of the future. Ever. It was like neither wanted to admit they were being stupid, that they couldn’t go on like this forever. She didn’t want a serious relationship, he didn’t want a child. And, oh yeah, he didn’t want to marry again. It was fairly simple when you thought about it.
So he tried not to think about it.
Something else he avoided thinking about was his growing preoccupation with Sam’s unborn child. Her excitement about the baby was contagious and he actually found himself looking forward to its birth. He and Sam never talked about what would happen to their friendship once the baby was born. Would they continue to see each other on occasion, or would it be smarter to cut things off? Again, it was easier not to think about. So, he didn’t. Much.
It was an unseasonably hot Thursday in late September as John drove through downtown Seattle, the air-conditioning going full blast. Sam waited for him in front of Cavanaugh Brothers Coffee, holding two iced drinks. She looked great as usual, making pregnancy look fashionable with her pretty, sheared top that hugged her belly and showed off her chest, over knee-length leggings and low-heeled sandals.
“Whew! It’s an oven out there,” she said as she slid onto the leather seat, her hair swirling and settling into place on her shoulders. She handed him his drink then took a long sip of her own.
She was positively glowing, and it wasn’t from the heat. Pregnancy was good to her. Not only did she look more beautiful, but she was also more relaxed, more serene. A sense of pride welled up inside him. He was the cause of that. Well, the baby inside her was, but he’d put it there.
“John?” Sam peered at him curiously. “You have a weird smile on your face. Did I get you the wrong drink? Iced coffee, black with—”
He shook his head in a jerky motion, snapping himself back to reality. “Sorry, I— No. The drink is perfect.” He searched his mind for an explanation. He settled on the truth. “Pregnancy agrees with you. You just—” He cleared his throat. “You look great.”
She smiled and blushed.
As he pulled into the thick lunchtime traffic, his cell phone rang. Answering, he listened a moment and frowned. “Okay. I’m on my way.”
Hanging up, he turned to Sam. “That was Alex. He was supposed to meet with one of the contractors out at the center, but got tied up. So I need to run by there. Shouldn’t take me long if you want to come with.”
She smiled. “Sure. I’d love to see how it’s coming along. But you still owe me a lunch.” As if to affirm her words, her stomach growled. They both laughed.
Fifteen minutes later, John left her to wander the first floor of the center while he went upstairs to consult with the plumbing contractor.
The air in the building was stifling, what with the ninety degree temperature outside combined with the lack of air conditioning inside, not to mention all the concentrated smells that went along with construction: paint, plaster, sawdust, glue and a bunch of other unhealthy inhalants.
Sam fanned herself with her hand. She stood in the middle of a huge room that looked to become a basketball court. The center was progressing quickly. John had told her they were ahead of schedule with the construction. He and Alex were hoping to open sometime in December. Right about the time the baby is born, she couldn’t help thinking. She rubbed her belly and felt a resounding kick.
“Hey there, little
one,” she whispered, having gotten into the habit of talking to the baby when she was alone. Somehow it seemed to be aware when she spoke to it. If it was active, it would suddenly cease when she spoke. If it was still, it would suddenly kick or turn over. It did the same thing whenever John—
She immediately intercepted that thought. She’d heard that babies sometimes recognize voices they hear in the womb. But there was no way it would recognize John’s voice. It wasn’t like they spent that much time together, once a week at most.
Thrusting out her lower lip, she blew upward onto her face while wiping away sweaty wisps of hair from her forehead. She knew what it was. The few times she’d managed to squeeze in an exercise routine in the past few months, the baby had reacted similarly. It was probably responding to her accelerated heart rate.
The thought made her feel better only momentarily. Because she’d just admitted to herself that her heart danced faster whenever she was with John. When she was by herself at night, lying in her bed, she thought of him often. Sometimes in erotic ways that left her too wired to sleep, but mostly just in loving ways.
Loving ways? Don’t go there.
She frowned and searched through her purse for something to use as a fan, almost tripping over a two by four. The closest thing she found was an ATM receipt. She stuffed it back inside and continued to fan with her hand. Her stomach growled again. She needed food and hoped John would be done soon.
Sam was glad they were friends again. Being with him just felt so comfortable, so right.
Loving thoughts.
Good God!
Feeling lightheaded — from the heat and hunger, obviously — she headed for the exit, needing fresh air. She passed a scaffolding with two men working near the ceiling. She nodded to them before pushing through the swinging glass doors encrusted with a fine white dust and splatters of paint. A blast of hot air radiated from the sidewalk. Humidity formed beads of perspiration along her upper lip and nose. Glancing across the street, she saw the sidewalk over there was shaded.
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