“Not my seed.”
“You’ll be gone for two years and…we’d better not, okay?”
“I suppose you’re right.” Though he wasn’t so sure.
“You bet I am,” she said too quickly and with a forced smile.
He reviewed their plan. “No kissing, a little dancing, a little not dancing…I believe I have it. But one question. What exactly is salsa night?”
11
THE DANCE was under way when Stacy and Barrett stepped through the gate that encircled the pool. Streamers spiraled from the ceiling of the community center and muffled music penetrated the glass windows to encompass them in seductive Latin rhythms. The pool looked like a fluorescent gem with the faintest ripple across the surface of the water. The moon was still a sliver, but bright nonetheless. It was a bit like a fairyland, and that feeling was enhanced when Barrett took hold of her hand. They turned and looked at each other, and his fingers tightened. He’d called her beautiful, and she tried to forget her dumb response. As his gaze scanned her face, she knew he was thinking it again. He’d said he wanted to kiss her again. The way he was looking at her, he wanted to kiss her now.
The wavering blue light from the pool danced across his face. The way he looked at her with total focus sent warmth washing clear through her body. His mouth was slightly open, relaxed. Very kissable. She sighed.
“You are so beautiful,” he said in a soft voice.
Her instinct was to negate that. She wasn’t beautiful, after all. Okay, maybe she was pretty if she worked at it, like tonight. But not beautiful, not by any stretch of the imagination. It was the lights, the music, his gratitude because she was helping him out. She felt her eyes well up, and in a thick voice, she said, “Thank you.”
“Did I say something wrong?”
She laughed, though it came out all choked. “No, you definitely did not. It’s just that…no one’s ever told me that before. It made me feel really good.”
His head tilted. “But you’re crying.”
“I’m not crying exactly. I’m…don’t even try to understand it, okay?”
The perplexed expression never left his face. “You won’t start bawling if I tell you that you smell nice, too, will you?”
She laughed. “No, I won’t. It’s Euphoria.”
He inhaled softly and smiled. “Just about.”
“That’s the name of the lotion I use. Euphoria.”
“Oh. Sure, I knew that.”
Their gazes met, and a tickle bubbled through her veins. His blond hair was glossy under the wavering lights. She felt an overwhelming urge to see if it felt as silky as it looked. She found herself hoping he would kiss her palm again. And hoping he wouldn’t, since that would be way too romantic for people who were only pretending.
“Do you…” She tried to clear the flutters from her throat. “Do you remember when we were in the closet this afternoon?”
“Oh, yes.”
She did, too, the tension crackling between them, the way—She focused her thoughts. “When you asked if I’d ever done anything just for me?”
He nodded, giving her his entire attention.
“There is something I’m going to do that’s just for me. I’m going to have a baby.”
His fingers tightened on her hand, and he glanced at her stomach. “Right now?”
She laughed, though it came out a bit strained. Why was she telling him this? Maybe to put an end to any hope that she and Barrett could make a go of it. She pulled free of his handhold. “I’m not pregnant now. But soon. I decided that I wasn’t going to have a man in my life, and I can live with that. But I can’t live without having a child. That’s what my life has been missing. I’m almost thirty-two, and I can’t wait around forever.”
He looked shell-shocked. Hair had fallen over his eyes, and he hadn’t even pushed it back. “Who’s the father?” His voice sounded quivery.
“It’s no one I know,” she admitted, even though she’d been trying hard to convince herself that she did sort of know the guys those profiles represented.
“You don’t know the future father of your baby?”
If it weren’t such a serious moment, she might have laughed at the perplexity on his face. “I’m using a sperm bank and artificial insemination.”
“Oh.” Relief surged through his expression. “But why artificially? It seems to me that a woman could go out and find a man to impregnate her.”
“I suppose I could, but it’s easier this way. I can see a man’s attributes up front, the sperm is free from disease, and there won’t be any custody issues.”
She was touched by the concern on his face.
“You’re going to do it alone?”
“Sure, why not? A lot of women do. I mean, I wanted the whole shebang, but I’m not going to get that. So I’ve adjusted my life goal. I axed the husband and went right for the baby. I’m not sure I can do romantic relationships, but I’m good at taking care of things.”
His mouth was open, but nothing was coming out. She’d really knocked him for a loop. It didn’t matter. In another day he’d be leaving Sunset City, and in less than two weeks, he’d be off on another expedition and she wouldn’t see him for at least two years. Probably forever. She felt a pang in her chest at that thought. No, more like a yawning chasm of loneliness waiting for her to slip and fall in.
Uh-oh. She’d gotten more attached to him than she’d realized. And with him being so darned cute and sexy, and with his straightforwardness and honesty…Good thing she’d popped the bubble.
“Looks like they’re having a serious discussion.”
Those words hung in the air for a moment, suspended in the music she hadn’t realized had grown louder. Since she hadn’t said it, and Barrett hadn’t said it, that must mean…She turned. Faces were pressed to every window, so close their noses were smashed. The door was slightly ajar, and both Nita and Jack were squeezed into the small opening.
“You two coming in to dance?” Nita asked as though they weren’t all invading her privacy. In fact, no one made even the slightest move to not look like they were all spying.
“Uh, sure,” Stacy said off key and headed toward the door.
It wasn’t until they stepped through the open doorway that everyone resumed their dance positions as though they’d been doing that all along.
“Ah, here’s the happy couple,” Betty said, waving them inside.
“Come in, come in,” Frieda said, pulling them into the melee of dancers. “Punch and cookies are over there. But first, you must dance!”
The rhythm pulsated through Stacy as she faced Barrett. “Shall we?”
Frieda tapped their shoulders. “Don’t worry about following the form. Just let the rhythm move you. And Stacy, dear, try not to crush his toes.”
“I know, I know.”
Frieda sauntered toward Nita and Jack and in a singsong voice said, “Arms, Nita. Untidy feet, Arlene!”
“How do we do this exactly?” Barrett glanced at the other couples and positioned his hands accordingly.
“Remember how we kissed? Like that. Don’t think about it, don’t analyze. We’ll do just fine.”
Amazingly, neither stepped on anyone’s toes. Magic. Almost as though they were meant to be together.
Which they weren’t, she reminded herself as they moved to the beat. With Barrett’s arms holding tight to her waist and her dress swishing pleasantly with each movement, it was getting harder to convince herself. It was just the moment, the music…Barrett.
Oh, boy.
Betty and Mary danced by—they were both widowed—and gave them a thumbs-up. Frieda and Ernie winked as they went by. Even Nita gave a nod of approval.
“I think we’ve finally convinced them,” Stacy said.
“We’re finally aroused enough, huh?”
She sputtered a laugh at that one. “Oh, yes, I believe so.”
Even though they laughed and twirled around the edge of the dance floor, something had changed between
them. She could feel it in the way he looked at her. It wasn’t horror, thank goodness, though the disbelief lingered. He who was afraid of babies was probably glad he was on his way out of her life before any of that business could begin.
“What do the people here think of…your plans?” he asked during a slower dance.
“I’m not telling them until I’m pregnant. I know they’d talk me out of it, tell me I was crazy to do it alone. But I’m not alone, not really. I have them, and…well, them. Once they get over the shock, they’ll support my decision, I’m sure.”
His fingers tightened on her waist. “I’m the only one who knows?”
“Well, you and Ricky, but that was an accident. He saw the profiles of the donors on my dresser mirror, the nose bag.”
“He was in your bedroom?”
“He was fixing a leak. Anyway, he’s been sworn to secrecy, though I’m not sure how long he’ll hold out. But it doesn’t matter since I’m having it done in two days.”
“Two days?” He nearly yelled, causing a couple of people to turn and look.
She whispered, “Let’s not talk about this anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because it doesn’t really concern us, and you’re giving me funny looks now. I liked it better when you thought I was beautiful. Now you’re looking at me as though I’m one degree off crazy.”
He purposely looked away. “I don’t think you’re crazy. I think I understand why you’re doing it. And I’m…glad for you. Really, I am,” he added at her skeptical look. “At least you know what your life goal is. That’s important.”
She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “Here’s to life goals. A baby for me, rain forest regrowth for you. May we find happiness therein.”
ONLY BARRETT wasn’t happy. It was two in the morning, he was trying to put some touches on the conclusion of the tree snail environmental study, and he was having a hell of a time concentrating on anything but Stacy. Papers cluttered the dining room table, and his computer hummed gently, reminding him of the work to be done. And reminding him that he was never, ever late. But here he was, running late, and still not focusing on the project at hand.
He glanced at Elmo, who was asleep in his lap. Content. Satisfied. Mere days ago, the thought of a dog lying in his lap would have given him hives. Now…well, now it gave him a warm feeling in his stomach. That warm feeling evaporated when he realized he was going to leave this place, Elmo…Stacy. He was committed to two years in a Bolivian rain forest. He tried to remember how excited he’d been when he’d been awarded the financially rich grant. It would pay his bills while he immersed himself in the kind of study that fulfilled him. Maybe even his life goal.
Stacy’s news had completely thrown him off. He envied her that she knew what her life goal was and that she was flexible enough to change it. But to have a baby by herself? He’d been looking at her as this fun, cute, unselfish person, and here she was a whole different person inside—a woman who yearned for love and family.
A woman.
He’d changed out of the frilly shirt and put on a cotton button-down shirt. The frilly shirt was lying on the chair next to him. He rearranged it until it resembled a nest and carefully set Elmo in the center of it. The dog stirred slightly before settling back to sleep.
Barrett walked outside, hoping the cool night air would knock some sense into him. After all, most sane people were asleep. Stacy, for instance, would be snuggled in her bed having baby dreams.
Then why was her living room light on? That didn’t mean she was awake. It didn’t mean he should go over and knock on her door.
Or maybe it did, he thought as he did just that. As though he’d lost his will.
It only took a minute for the door to open. She was wearing pajamas with sheep and clouds floating against a sky blue background. She’d only buttoned the center two buttons, which left a bit of her collarbone and stomach showing.
“Barrett? What’s wrong?”
Leave it to Stacy to instantly think something was wrong and want to help him rather than chastise him for knocking on her door at this late hour.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She stepped aside, running her fingers through her hair as she walked into the living room. The television was on, but the sound was turned down. Lucille Ball was shoving a conveyor belt’s worth of chocolate candies into her mouth.
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I couldn’t get to sleep.” She glanced at him. “Why is your shirt on inside out?”
“Oh, I—” She was right. No wonder he couldn’t get the buttons to button right. He’d given up, so not only was his shirt inside out, it was unbuttoned. “Sorry, I just threw it on.” She was waiting for him to explain himself, and not even impatiently. Darn it, she was such a good person. A caring person. Someone who would make a good mother. “I couldn’t stop thinking about what you told me earlier.”
She ruffled the hair she’d just finger combed. “I shouldn’t have told you. I hadn’t meant to, and then it was coming out of my mouth. Just forget about it, okay?”
“I figured you didn’t want to talk about it when you said you wanted to turn in as soon as we returned from the dance. But I can’t forget about it, Stacy. That’s not the kind of thing a man can forget. I can’t rewind the tape and erase the words.”
She dropped down onto the couch, which he noticed also held her pillow and a blanket. An empty mug sat on the coffee table with marshmallow fluff sticking to the insides. Gooey chocolate puddled on the bottom.
“But it doesn’t concern you, Barrett. You’ll be tromping through the forest long before I even start showing.” She met his gaze. “That is what you want to do, right? Your life goal?”
He sat on the coffee table in front of her. “I think so. But I have to go through with the project regardless. I’m committed, and I’ve never backed out of anything in my life.”
She smiled, though it wasn’t a happy smile. “And you’re never late.” She hugged the pillow to her stomach. “This has nothing to do with you. I’m the crazy one who’s going to be doing this. I have a lot of people around me to help out.”
“Will they let you stay here after the baby is born? It is an older persons’ community, after all.”
She shrugged. “Probably. If they don’t, I’ll move. No biggie.”
“But where will you go?”
“I’ll figure something out. Even if I can’t stay here, the folks will still help me. They’re like family.” She laughed softly. “Barrett, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. You…are worried about me, right? That’s what this is about?”
“Yes, I’m worried about you.” He didn’t like the idea of her moving into a strange neighborhood without her friends close by. “But how will I know what’s happened to you?”
“I can send you letters, pictures even. We can get together when you come back.”
“Two years is a long time.”
“I know.” The words came out like a soft sigh. “Everything will be different then. We’ll be different, and the baby will be Lynsey’s age, if it takes the first time. There’ll be toys all over, The Little Mermaid playing on the television for the hundredth time, laughter, crying and dirty diapers. I’ll be crooning over every little thing the baby does. It’ll be chaos, a perfectly wrong place for a research scientist to concentrate on a proj—” Her eyes widened. “Let’s not pretend we’ll get together then. Let’s not even go there.” She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t come here to talk me out of it, I hope. I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you were going to do that.”
He ran his hand over his mouth, reminding him of their kiss, which was something he definitely shouldn’t be thinking of at that moment. “I would never try to dissuade you from your life goal. I don’t know why I came over. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. “I’ll be fine, really. This is what I want, right here in
my heart.” She removed one hand to rub her heart.
He nodded. “I’m happy for you, Stacy. You’ll make a good mother.”
She beamed at that, and he couldn’t help notice a gleam in her eyes. “Thanks.”
“I didn’t make you cry again, did I?”
She shook her head, but her voice was thick when she said, “It was just nice to hear. Sometimes I feel like such a failure. But this is something I’m going to excel at. I can tell already.”
He gave her hands a squeeze. “Me, too.”
“Do you think it’s selfish of me, though, to bring a baby into the world without a father? I wonder about that sometimes…all the time, actually. Is it fair to the child?”
“You deserve to do something selfish. As long as you have your friends here, you’ll manage. Look at all that you do now. And I’ll bet you have enough love to make up for a lack of father.”
“Oh, my yes.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Thanks for saying that.”
It was a good time to leave. Two in the morning, a nice end to their conversation, and the project to finish at his place. Instead, he caught himself saying, “Can I see the profiles? I’d like to see the men who might father your baby.”
“Actually, you’re sitting on them.”
He jumped up and saw the three sheets of paper on the coffee table. “Sorry about that.”
“They didn’t feel a thing, I promise.” Her smile warmed him deep inside. “You really want to see them?”
“Yes.”
“Well, okay, I guess.”
They both leaned forward over the profiles he set on his legs. Their hair mingled in a light, tickling sort of way, and their knees pressed together.
“I’ve narrowed it down to three men, but I’ve been having a hard time figuring out which one I want. Maybe you seeing them isn’t such a bad idea. You can give me a new perspective.”
“How long have you been deciding?”
“Two months. I know, a long time, but it’s an important decision, and I can’t seem to nail it down. If I could combine them into one person, they’d be perfect. I can’t put it off any longer. I’m making the decision tonight, and Monday I go in. This guy is the leading candidate, I think,” she said, pulling out the bottom sheet of paper. “One-one-six-seven-two-five. He’s smart, has his own software company, good entrepreneurial genes—”
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