by Sarah Gerdes
“What I really want to know is if you’re happy for me?”
“Happy? I’m freaking out for you, across all fronts. I don’t even know where to start.”
Danielle grinned. “Breath. That’s always good. You have meals to cook and dinners to serve. On a slightly downer note, we both know I may not keep it, so until I’m further along, I want the drama kept to a minimum. Can you do that?”
“Sure, sure.” Danielle promised to keep her in the loop when she had more news.
As much as she wanted to call her father, she decided to wait until after the doctor’s appointment. She didn’t want to give him a false high if the chances were low she’d keep it. Lars reluctantly agreed, relying upon her judgement.
The Monday night before her appointment, neither she nor Lars slept much. Danielle’s restlessness was due to nerves and excitement, while Lars was on a pure adrenaline high. He was convinced this time her situation would be different.
Danielle was in her office when the double-tap made her look up.
“Twenty minutes?” Lars asked her, and she nodded. The OB’s office was only a twelve minute ride by the metro. She expected the appointment to last an hour, so factoring wait time and travel there and back, two hours at most. “You will text me.”
“As I promised….repeatedly,” she said, amused and as thrilled as he was.
“Okay, I’ll leave you then,” he said, giving her a smile and a look that one should definitely never receive within the confines of an office.
Danielle left, firmly believing that when she returned, she was going to feel like a different woman.
Two and a half hours later, Danielle walked down the street in a horrified daze. She could barely focus on the steps in front of her, missing the metro that went by because she misread the numbers. Danielle wanted to go home and cry, but she’d have plenty of time to do that later. She thought about Lani, but her best friend would only make it worse. Her father was blessedly asleep, and this news might throw him over the edge.
On my way back she texted Lars.
Can’t wait came the reply.
Yes, he could wait, Danielle mentally shouted. Danielle wanted to lengthen the train ride and was tempted to stay on the circuit several times but mechanically got off at her stop. She paced herself, breathing shallow, as if she were already going through labor, trying to keep the blood flowing to her brain. She couldn’t even think of the words to say to Lars because there were no words that made sense.
Danielle noticed the clock on the way into the building. 11:42. Most of the staff who left for lunch would already be gone, and those who stayed, like Ulrich, would be in their offices, working and eating at their desks. Perhaps it would be best to leave the building with Lars, but then that would open up the door to potential conjecture about their relationship. Right now she didn’t want to subject them to any kind of gossip.
Danielle saw that Glenda was on the phone as she tapped lightly, letting her know she’d returned. She put her coat and purse in the wardrobe, and sat down, tapping out Lars’ extension when she looked up and saw him at the door. He didn’t wait for her to gesture him in. His eyes were on fire. He was a man being forced to contain his excitement from the world. He closed the door behind him then sat down, leaning back in the chair, crossing his legs as though he were having regular conversation.
“Well,” he asked, his lips pressed in the center, the corners up. “Was I right?”
Danielle tried to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth. “Yes,” she said a little too forcefully. “I’m pregnant.” Lars looked at her expectantly.
“And? What could they tell you?”
“A lot more than I imagined,” she said tentatively.
Lars looked smug. “Switzerland has some of the world’s best technology. I’m sure this applies to ultrasounds.”
“Yes,” she said slowly, praying for the strength to deliver the news she had to give him. “For instance, they were able to tell me the sex of the baby.”
Lars’ eyes fluttered, and he frowned slightly. “That’s impressive. This early?” Danielle nodded. He had already figured that the earliest she could have gotten pregnant would have been eight weeks prior, maybe nine.
“Do you want to tell me or leave it a surprise?” Danielle swallowed hard and reached for a piece of paper on her desk. She wrote GIRL, and then turned it around, sliding it towards him.
Lars observed her with interest then leaned over and read it. His face was absolute joy.
“She’s going to be extraordinarily beautiful. Just like her mother.” Danielle’s lower lip quivered. He tilted his head, another frown appearing.
“Something’s not right.” Danielle glanced up to the glass dividers, making sure no one was walking by. She nodded her head, unable to speak. “Bad?” he uttered, his face losing a little bit of life. She nodded again. Slowly, she retrieved the piece of paper. The tip of her pen hovered above the paper. It was shaking. With her left hand holding the slip, she wrote two words: seven letters that meant the end of her world as she knew it.
12 WEEKS.
She rotated the paper to Lars and watched him read the paper. He stared at it, his face draining of color.
Danielle’s shaking hand went to her lip, muffling a broken sob. Lars covered the paper with one hand, his fingers white as he crushed it. When he looked up, his eyes were ashen, his face filled with hurt. He said not a word as he opened the door and turned left, down to his office. Danielle stared at her screen, her fingers motionless. The baby she thought she was having with Lars wasn’t his at all. It was Andre’s.
At ten after nine, the security guard knocked on Danielle’s office and politely requested she leave so he could secure the space. Her eyes were on fire and her head throbbed but thankfully, it wasn’t a migraine.
“Five minutes,” she told him, as she started to shut down her computer. Ulrich would be pleased with her output in the last five hours. Lars wouldn’t notice, unless he was also sitting at his desk, trying to ignore the horrific turn of events.
Danielle felt like she was on autopilot as she put on her thick coat and changed her shoes from heels into her fur-lined boots. The snow had been coming down since four and hadn’t stopped.
She shut off her office light and said goodbye to the guard who was waiting at the front desk. She’d been able to maintain the appearance of normalcy today by rigidly avoiding thinking of her life. Now that she was in the quiet metal shell of the elevator, thoughts of ‘if’s’ and ‘what if’s’ began rapidly chipping away at her composure.
Danielle walked out the large glass doors, turning to her left when she heard her name.
“Ms. Grant, this way.” It was Dominic, standing on the sidewalk. Through the snow she saw the black Range Rover behind him, and she shook her head.
“Thanks, Dominic, but I’ll take the metro to my place.”
The back door of the Rover immediately opened and Lars stepped out. He was still in his suit.
“Danielle,” he said, his voice cracking. “Please.” Danielle hesitated. Without waiting for her answer, approached and put his arm around her shoulders, propelling her towards the car. She was quiet when he sat beside her and Dominic took the wheel.
“I could have taken the metro home.”
“I’m not taking you to your apartment. I’m taking you to our home.”
“How long have you been down here?” she asked quietly.
“Since three thirty.”
Danielle’s chest ached with love. He’d been waiting for her, ever since he thought she’d leave at her usual time. His gaze was fierce but not angry. He was emboldened, like he’d been shown a mountain to climb and was unwilling to give up a lifelong dream just because the weather had turned bad.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered.
“I’m not,” he said clearly, holding her tightly. “I don’t want you out of my arms. It’s where you belong.”
Talking began the moment they entere
d the apartment.
“I have had all afternoon and evening to think about this Danielle, and I’m not going to throw away what we have, or walk away, because of this.”
Lars held her and divulged all that he’d considered. Every angle, every feeling, worry, hope and thought for their future together.
“And the future of our baby,” he said, emphasizing the last word. Danielle closed her eyes against the tears. According to Lars, the baby growing inside her had been his since he learned she was pregnant. That the little girl was from a different father wasn’t going to stop him from being with her. For a moment, Danielle had hope. A hope that she could have love, a baby and a family, here in Zurich.
Then she heard his plan. Long after the Lars had fallen asleep, Danielle’s tears continued to stream down her face. All that she wanted with Lars, all that she believed she could have, was now an impossibility.
CHAPTER 50
Danielle went to work the next day on autopilot. She shut the door and called her father, waking him up. They had a long talk before she took his advice and placed another call. Georgy was surprised to hear from her, but when she told him she needed to talk and that it was important, she got exactly what she wanted.
“Come over after work. I’ll be here.”
Danielle still felt a pang of unrelenting nerves as the large, iron gates retracted. But by the time she was out of her car, Georgy was already walking towards her. He held out his arms and she nearly fell into him, her tears already flowing with the light snow.
“Let’s go inside.” He led her into his stately den where a fire was burning in the great hearth. She sat in a red leather couch and held a pillow in her lap.
“Georgy, I’m here because I want to make sure I’m making the best decision. Andre and I stopped seeing one another right before I went to Oregon for vacation. Approximately two months later, I started seeing Lars.” Georgy nodded. He’d known. “Georgy,” she paused, “I’m pregnant, and it’s Andre’s baby.” Danielle told him that she’d had no signs at all, other than being more tired than normal.
“Layda was just like that. Some women are just lucky. Does Lars know?”
She nodded her head. “That’s why I’m here. Lars was exuberant until yesterday, when we learned the baby wasn’t his. But, Georgy, he wants to remain together. He thinks highly of Andre and has no problem the baby is his.”
“Lars wants to marry you?’ Danielle nodded. It was one of the things he’d said as he held her in his arms.
“But Georgy, he has one condition. He wants no involvement between your family and the child. He doesn’t want issues of having two fathers, and the child running from one to the other when it gets tough. That means you could not be recognized as the grandfather, and your granddaughter would never know you.”
Georgy’s thick eyebrows lowered. “A girl?”
“I can’t bear the thought of keeping this little girl from knowing her father or her grandfather and grandmother.”
“That’s well-intentioned Danielle, but it’s not convenient to travel to and from Oregon with a young child.”
“I have no intention of doing that. Even if Andre doesn’t want his child in his life, I will raise my daughter here, in Zurich, and my father agrees with me. He is now terminal. It’s unlikely that he will make it to the New Year. I’ll have no more family in Oregon.”
Georgy continued to watch and assess her, just he’d done during their very first meeting. “Lars won’t accept it.”
Daniele nodded sadly. “I know. But Georgy, what I really need to know is if you want me to be a part of your life? I made a huge assumption by believing you would.”
“My dear girl. I would welcome you and our granddaughter into my family. It would mean the world to me.” He paused, his face turning soft with compassion. “But what you are suggesting is a very hard life.”
Danielle’s eyes blurred with tears of resolve. “I know. I’m consigning myself to raising this little girl here, alone, in Zurich. But it’s the right thing—the only thing—for me to do.”
There was nothing left to say. “Please don’t tell Andre anything, yet. I haven’t figured out exactly how I want to communicate this to him.” Georgy complied, but Danielle could see he wasn’t happy about it.
He walked her to the front door. The snow continued to fall, the pure white removing the greys of the streets, brushing it with the happiness she associated with the holiday season.
Georgy gently touched her arm. “Danielle, you will never be alone. You are family.”
Danielle willingly accepted his embrace as that of her own father, and she cried again at what she was losing. He walked her to the car and waited in the driveway until the gate closed behind her.
Danielle went home, intent on staying there. At six, she hovered in the living room, wandering to the window and back to the couch. In silence, she looked at the water, sensing the cold breeze off the grey liquid despite the thick walls of glass and steel around her. By this time, Lars would usually have called her, or she him, confirming when she would be over and if he were going to come get her.
She felt her senses deadening, an invisible callous growing around her, meant to insulate her like the fluid that was protecting the little entity inside her womb. She went into the bedroom, staring at the phone when it rang. She picked it up and went back into the living room.
“Hello?” she answered, even though she’d seen the caller ID.
“We missed our call,” Lars began.
“I know. I’m sorry.” She was sorry. Sorry for the pain she was going to inflict on both of them. Sorry that this had happened at all. She was also mad. Mad at Andre for not staying with her. Mad that he hadn’t waited. All of this…none of this had to happen. What had she been thinking? That enduring the pain to find love again with Lars, and then to be torn apart like this was worth it? It wasn’t.
“Do you miss me?” he asked, his voice soft. She nodded in the fading light.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to come over?”
She nodded again, her hand running through her hair. “Yes.”
“Then come.”
“Lars…I…don’t know if that’s the best thing. I need to think about what you said, and I can’t think when I’m with you.” Danielle pushed her eyes shut. It was a lie. She didn’t need to think—not about his proposal. She needed to think about how best to tell him the truth.
“No, you don’t,” he said. “You need to be with me, where you belong. I’m coming to get you.”
Danielle knew it was futile to argue. Despite all that was turning upside down in her world, she loved him so completely, wanted his arms around her, holding her—for one more night. One more week. Instantly, she realized these were the exact emotions she’d had for Andre just before the end of that relationship.
This is different. I was ready to have a family with Lars and he with me. And it wasn’t forced due to a deadline or potential job loss. It was natural and perfect. For a few more hours at least, she wanted to keep that feeling.
She agreed to get her things together and before long, he was at her door, holding her in his arms. On the drive back to his apartment he was quiet but held her hand.
Once they arrived at his apartment, he pulled her forward. “Come here,” he said, drawing her to the couch. “Any more thoughts about us?” Danielle tried to breathe steadily, nodding her head up and down. “And?”
“I know I love you, and this is really hard. All I can think and say is that I’m sorry.” Lars hugged her carefully, kissing her forehead.
“I told you not to say you’re sorry again. It invalidates our relationship, and all that preceded it.”
Danielle knew what he was telling her. She and Andre needed to be together and then break up so she and Lars could be together.
Danielle nodded, closing her eyes. She didn’t want to talk anymore. Danielle lifted her chin up, finding his eyes, adoring everything about him—even the part that wanted her t
o shut off contact with Georgy’s family. It felt good to be loved, to be needed and protected.
She wanted to make love, to be as close as possible to him for as long as she could. Lars knew what she was seeking and gave it to her. Throughout the night, she felt for Lars again and again, each time gripping him harder, feeling him do the same to her. Yet as the hours passed, an ache grew, deep in her core. By the time she fell asleep, the dominant emotion wasn’t comfort, it was loneliness.
Tuesday morning she called Lani and asked if she needed a substitute waitress.
“I need to be busy,” Danielle told her. Lani immediately said yes, but then cautioned against it.
“You sure you should be on your feet?”
“I’ve been okay this far Lani.”
At two, Danielle dialed Lars’ extension and told him Lani needed the help at the restaurant.
“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” she said, hedging, although she knew Lars was too smart for such a response. The only question was whether he’d let the comment go.
“So you’ll be staying at your place tonight?”
“Probably.”
“Please Danielle. Don’t push it.” His tone of voice gave her stomach an uncomfortable squeeze. He wasn’t talking about just her physical health.
That night, after returning home Danielle went straight to bed. No research. No calls. Wednesday morning she went to work, completed her day at four and went back home. She called Lars to tell him she’d be staying home and got his voice mail. When he called her back, he was kind, but to the point.
“Are you going to do this every night?” he asked. Danielle had long since promised herself she’d never lie to this man. She loved him too much and respected him even more.
“Tomorrow I promised Lani I’d help again. But Friday…” her words trailed off. Lars was silent for a few moments.
“Friday what?”
“We can see each other,” she said lamely. The intervening quiet was crushing.