“Just wait and see,” she teased. “I kind of like you not having all the answers for a change.”
“Gee, thanks.” The casual affection in his tone belied his words. “Have you been taking brat lessons from Ari?”
“I’m hanging up on you now,” she informed him. “Show’s coming back on.”
Half an hour later, he called back during another commercial break trying to remember where he’d seen one of the guest actors before.
“You know, that’s the sort of thing you could find in about thirty seconds on the Internet,” she pointed out, holding her breath. Would he tell her that the calls weren’t just about the show? Perhaps he looked forward to talking to her the same way she was looking forward to seeing him again on Saturday.
“Yeah, but if I go online, I’m going to look up the episode and see how it ends. I have no willpower.”
She snorted, thinking of his dedicated jogging regimen and the way he pursued goals with determination. “What a crock.”
“Well.” His voice went lower. “I have more self-discipline when it comes to some things than others.”
She sat a little straighter on the couch. “Really?”
“Really. I keep entertaining these thoughts that I tell myself are inappropriate, but it hasn’t stopped me from thinking them.” He paused. “Anything like that ever happen to you?”
Only whenever she saw him. Or heard his voice. Or thought of him. “Yeah, as a matter of fact.”
“Any tips on how to handle it?”
Oh, sure—the one time David asked for advice from her, she was clueless what to tell him. “You got me.”
“All evidence to the contrary.” He said it lightly, but there was a noticeable undercurrent.
He misses me. Whether his feelings were spawned by learning about the baby or by the fragile new peace between them or by nostalgia from the preparations for the upcoming wedding, she didn’t doubt that the emotion was legitimate. It wasn’t fair that they were getting along better apart than they had together. Was it because they were both so happy about the baby? It was easier to get along when things were going well, but would their renewed friendship withstand future hardships? That’s where they’d stumbled before. For better or worse. The latter was clearly the more difficult to master.
The blaring notes of some show’s theme song jolted her attention back to the television, where opening credits were rolling. She reached for the remote. “We missed the rest of Lost.”
He groaned. “Okay, now you have to tell me how it ended.”
Once she’d obligingly filled him in, they said their good-nights. With the television off and David gone, the house was more hushed than ever. Unable to get back into her scrapbooking groove, she decided to get ready for bed. And sleep where?
The logical choice was probably the larger quality mattress in the master bedroom, but she hadn’t slept there in over a month. Pondering, she flipped on the hallway light and walked to the would-be nursery where she’d spent her most recent nights in the house.
The room looked different even though nothing discernible had changed. It seemed bigger, somehow, not a place where she felt trapped anymore but a space of infinite possibilities. She thought back to her time on the phone with David, and optimism bubbled inside her. Was there a chance that, by the time they learned this baby’s gender, Rachel would be living in the house with him? She imagined sitting next to him in bed, poring over magazines together, eyeing pink teddy bear motifs or sports mobiles with soccer balls and baseballs.
“I can’t wait,” she said aloud. Was it strange to talk to your belly? “I can’t wait to meet you. We already love you so much.”
Having struggled through the tough decisions—whether to take the drugs, when it was time to stop, whether they should try again—she was exhilarated by the prospect of making the fun decisions. The nursery theme, buying cute little outfits, adding cartoons to her movie collection and finding copies of beloved children’s books. She decided not to sleep in here, whether because of superstition or because she wouldn’t get any rest staring at the walls and trying to picture how different borders and stencils would look, but she took one long last look before turning off the light.
Infinite possibilities. A phrase that suddenly seemed to apply not just to this room, but her life.
“THANKS AGAIN for agreeing to this,” David said, his grateful smile making him so appealing that Rachel lost her breath for a minute.
I want to kiss him. She turned toward the door under the pretext of trying the handle and making sure she’d locked it. “Don’t mention it.”
She hadn’t done any Christmas shopping and, like everything else in her life, she had a lot of catching up to do. Plus, she truly adored Tanner and Lilah. It promised to be an enjoyable day. For all that one heard about pregnancy mood swings, in a way, she was more serene than she had been in months.
“How are you feeling this morning?” David asked as they walked down the driveway. “Everything all right with you and the little one?”
“We’re great.” She broke into a wide smile as a thought struck her. “Just think, if all goes well, this time next year junior will be experiencing his or her first Christmas.”
David grinned with her. “And we’ll get our first shot at playing Santa. I’ll bet …” He trailed off, his smile fading.
“It’s a year away,” she said gently. “A lot could happen.” She didn’t want to make false promises or rush to any decisions, but she was going to keep an open mind.
Even if she and David parted ways as planned, she had every intention of making this split amicable and working out the best possible custody situation for all three of them. Still, the harsh truth was that no method of sharing birthdays and divvying up holidays could replace living together, having both parents there for every milestone. Her heart stuttered. What if she missed the first time their baby rolled over or slept through the night, what if she missed the first step? She couldn’t bear the idea, but she couldn’t begrudge David those moments, either.
His manner subdued, he opened her door for her.
“So, your mom came by to get the key from you?” she asked, fishing for conversation.
“Yeah. I told her we both really appreciated it.”
Susan, who’d once been Winnie’s Sunday-school teacher, would let the dogs out around lunch. Rachel had asked Tanner and Lilah if they could have an early dinner and return from their day of shopping in time for someone to give the pooches adequate attention this evening. David had promised to take them for a long walk if it wasn’t too cold.
It was only a short drive to Lilah’s. Tanner had his own apartment for the time being, but would move in with Lilah after the wedding while they waited for their house to be finished. After some weather delays and switching contractors in the middle of construction, Lilah had grumbled that the next time they had the bright idea to build their own house, she was buying stock in aspirin. Nevertheless, Rachel thought it was romantic that Lilah and Tanner had put such effort and thought into planning their future together, starting from the steel-reinforced concrete foundation and working their way up.
Lilah opened the front door before they even had a chance to knock. “Hey, guys.” She hugged both of them. “Tanner just ran back to the kitchen to grab a cookie tin.”
“Road-trip provisions,” her husband-to-be called.
“We’re not going to be on the road that long,” Lilah reminded him, smiling indulgently. “Thank heavens for Tanner. This might be the first year I don’t gain ten pounds from the holiday treats my students bring in.”
Tanner appeared in the hallway behind her, twirling his car keys. Tucked under his other arm was a blue tin painted with snowflakes. “So, are we all set to hit the road?”
Just as David was saying yes, Rachel interrupted, “Actually, Lilah, would you mind if I use your bathroom first?”
“Be my guest.”
There was nothing remarkable in Rachel’s request—the first time—but she was sure Tanner and Lilah were surprised when she asked him to pull over for their third pit stop before they reached the shopping megaplex.
“Feeling okay?” Lilah asked as she held her hands under an automatic dryer.
Rachel rubbed her own hands together under the water. “Absolutely. Just a small bladder.” With a tiny person growing on top of it.
“I was thinking, when we get there, we should split up—guys and girls?”
“Yes!”
Lilah laughed at Rachel’s eager agreement. “Guess you’re not done shopping for David, either, huh?”
More like she hadn’t even started. They were spending Christmas Day with the Waides, opening presents together as they had for the past four years. She didn’t have the first clue what to get him this year. Everything felt wrong.
“I know it’s hypocritical,” Lilah was saying, “my always admonishing the kids not to procrastinate when I’ve put off almost all of my shopping until a week and a half before Christmas, but I’ve been so preoccupied with the wedding.”