скачать книгу бесплатно
Their gazes met, held.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Come on, Beth. You don’t really want to talk right now, do you?”
She swallowed her apprehension and said, “This could be for your own protection.”
He was shaking his head before she’d finished. “Protect me from what? Your family has a lot more money than mine. And it’s not as if you’re going to divorce me and hit me up for child support for a half-dozen kids.”
They both went still, the light from Christopher’s night-light stretching their shadows all the way into the hall. Beth was the first to find her voice. “You don’t need protection because I can’t have children, is that it?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Isn’t it? Barry left me because I couldn’t give him children. You can’t tell me it doesn’t bother you.”
“I married you, anyway, didn’t I?”
Beth took a step back as if she’d been slapped, and Tony drew in a loud breath. She remembered when he’d told her he didn’t want charity or a virgin sacrifice. Raising her chin in a manner she’d learned from her mother, she quietly said, “Who’s offering charity now, Tony?”
Tony started to swear. Realizing they were still standing in the middle of Christopher’s room, he clamped his mouth shut and whispered, “Beth, this isn’t coming out the way I intended. You caught me off guard, that’s all. What I’m giving you isn’t charity, not by a long shot.”
“What do you want in return?” she asked quietly.
Beth didn’t know what she saw in his eyes this time, but it was more than attraction and seduction. There was anger, and worry, and maybe a hint of sadness, and something else that scared her more than all the others combined, because it looked a lot like remorse. “I’ve already suffered one broken heart, Tony, and I’d really prefer not to experience it again.”
“I have no intention of breaking anybody’s heart, dammit.”
“But?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything. And neither did she. They stood perfectly still, staring at each other. She finally nodded, but nothing had really been settled. Neither of them seemed to know what to do to make things better.
“Look,” she whispered, “we’re both tired and overwrought.”
“Yes,” he said, jumping at the excuse so quickly it heightened her concerns. “We’re probably not thinking clearly. Let’s get some sleep. Everything will look a lot better in the morning.”
Beth thought about how many times she’d told a patient that very thing, and wondered if they felt as suspicious of it as she did right now.
She and Tony used separate bathrooms, then crawled into the same bed. He kissed her good-night, and then they turned onto their sides, facing opposite directions. Her body relaxed eventually, but her mind was more difficult to put to sleep. She reminded herself that she’d put in a grueling two days preparing the house and food for her family’s visit. Maybe Tony was right. Maybe they weren’t thinking clearly. Maybe the fact that he couldn’t talk about her infertility didn’t mean that he’d never accept it. Maybe bringing it up tonight hadn’t put an irreparable rift in their fragile relationship.
Maybe everything really would look better in the morning.
* * *
Morning didn’t bring any magical revelations or miracle cures to their dilemma. Tony woke up to his alarm and groggily got out of bed while Beth went to feed the baby. They came face-to-face in the hall, giving each other a wide berth as if by unspoken, mutual agreement.
Christopher had awakened every two-and-a-half hours throughout the night. Each time she’d fed and changed him, she thought about what would have happened if Tony hadn’t agreed to marry her, thereby giving this beautiful little boy a two-parent home, and her the opportunity to be his mother. Lord, how she wished she’d left the skeleton of her infertility in the closet. But each time she’d crawled back into bed, she was more convinced that she and Tony had to talk about this, to make peace with it, so they’d know where to go from here.
She’d believed Tony when he’d said he wanted to be a father to Christopher. He wasn’t going to divorce her before the adoption was final. But what about later? Could they build a real marriage on the legality of their union? Or would he always wish things could have been different? With another woman, they could be. Barry had certainly proved that. Her first husband had hurt her in nearly every emotional way, making her feel guilty for something that she had no control over. Barry had once said that it was her body that wasn’t functioning properly. It was her body that prohibited conception. And on a subliminal level, in some perverse way that wasn’t fair, Barry had believed that that made it her fault.
She’d come to terms with her own body’s inadequacies, had made peace with her fate. None of it had come without scars, or pain or resolutions. The most important thing was the promise she’d made to herself to be honest about her feelings, and to expect others to be honest in return.
Pipes rumbled overhead as the shower was turned off. She quickly started the coffee, then hurried to the back bathroom where she combed her hair, washed her face and brushed her teeth. By the time she returned to the kitchen, the coffee was done and her resolve was firmly in place.
She turned at the sound of footsteps behind her. “Good morning,” she called as cheerily as she could manage.
“Good morning,” he replied, eyeing her cautiously.
“Are you ready to talk this morning?”
He lumbered past her on his way to the coffeemaker with a dark look and a mumbled “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Come on, Tony,” she cajoled. “You must have some idea in your mind of what you’ll be doing a year from now, or five, or ten. Am I there with you? Or do you see a faceless woman and more children?”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Is it? Can you look me in the eye and honestly tell me that you haven’t paused for a moment while we were making love, that you haven’t thought about the fact that you couldn’t make me pregnant?”
He set his mug down so hard coffee sloshed over the side. “What do you want me to say, Beth?”
“The truth.”
“I don’t know what I see in my future a year from now, or in five years, or ten. And that’s the honest-to-God truth.”
Beth closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she were more like Janet, who never rocked the boat, or made waves, or got herself into a situation that had no clear and easy way out.
“Look,” he said, running a hand through his damp hair. “This is getting us nowhere. Let’s forget about it and just go on the way we were.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because,” she said, imploring him with her eyes, “I thought I would die of hurt and heartache when Barry left me. But I didn’t. As time went on, I realized that my life with him had been a lie. What you and I are doing for Christopher and Annie feels good and honorable and right. It feels like destiny, but I need to keep the truth in front of me, so I know where I’m going, and why.”
He heaved a great sigh. “Where does that leave us?”
“Between the proverbial rock and a hard place. I’ll move my clothes back into the spare room later this morning.”
“What?”
She wanted to explain to him that if she continued to have sex with him, she was going to fall in love with him. And she just didn’t think she could live through being thrown away twice for the same reason. But she became tongue-tied and ended up saying, “I think it would be best.”
“Best?” he bellowed.
“Less awkward.”
“I think I should have some say in this,” he declared, his voice rising. “We’re married, and we should sleep in the same bed, dammit. If you don’t want me to make love to you, I won’t. I’m not some rutting teenager, you know. I’m old enough to control my own lust.”
When she didn’t answer, Tony stalked to the door and slammed it behind him.
He arrived at the hospital with his tie loose and his cuffs unbuttoned, wondering what in the hell had happened last night. One minute he’d been contemplating what he was going to do when he took Beth to bed, and the next thing he knew, they were talking about whether or not he saw her in his future. No wonder her mother didn’t understand her. Bethany Kent Petrocelli was one obstinate, contrary woman.
He buttoned his cuffs, thinking that wasn’t entirely fair or true. Beth was beautiful and smart and thoughtful. That was the problem. She thought too much. How was he supposed to know how he felt about the fact that she couldn’t give him kids of his own? Did she want him to say he was happy about it? He sure as hell didn’t believe it was a good enough reason to move her clothes back into the spare bedroom. What was he going to do about that woman?
He locked his car and headed for the hospital’s back entrance. At least he knew what he was doing at the hospital. Delivering babies and doling out prenatal vitamins and listening to unborn babies’ heartbeats was his forte. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what to do about his marriage. Not a stinking clue.
* * *
Later that morning, after she’d fed Christopher and had given him his bath, Beth called her brother-in-law and made an appointment to have a post-nuptial agreement drawn up. Then she walked upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Tony, staring at the king-size bed, lost in thought. She thought for most of the day. She came up with a lot of questions, but no revelations or resolutions.
Tony arrived home shortly after six. They shared dinner and made polite conversation. When he was called to the hospital to deliver a baby a few minutes before eight, they both breathed a secret sigh of relief at the reprieve.
By the time Tony returned home, it was after midnight. He took the stairs two at a time, pausing in the doorway of his bedroom, where Beth was sound asleep. She hadn’t moved her things back to the spare bedroom. Being careful not to make too much noise releasing another pent-up sigh of relief, he checked on Christopher, then undressed and crawled into bed.
There was absolutely no reason he shouldn’t have fallen asleep immediately. Beth didn’t jostle the bed. And he couldn’t smell her perfume or shampoo, or feel her warmth. She was too far away. But he knew she was there. And sleep was going to be a long time coming.
Beth opened her eyes and lay staring into the darkness, wondering if Tony would reach for her or whisper good-night. He did neither, tossing and turning on his side of the bed while she lay motionless on hers. The line had been drawn, and neither of them knew how to cross it.
MacKenzie worked her into his schedule on Tuesday, fitting her between a sticky divorce and a property dispute that was turning into a feud that rivaled the Hatfields and the McCoys. She thought her brother-in-law looked tired, but she didn’t tell him as much. In return, he asked her questions regarding the document she wanted him to draw up. As was their family’s way, he handled himself with a certain understated finesse and didn’t delve too deeply into her personal life or emotions.
Tuesday night seemed to take forever, as did Wednesday. Beth and Tony had dinner together both evenings. They talked about the baby, the weather, his work, but there were long stretches of silence when they faced each other, quiet and uncertain. They said good-night after crawling into bed together, but they didn’t kiss, and they didn’t make love.
Thursday morning, Beth picked up the legal document. After strapping Christopher into his car seat in the car, tears gathered in her eyes. They seemed to come out of nowhere with so much force she couldn’t stop them. Christopher stared up at her, his expression so serious she cried harder, promising him that everything would be all right all the while.
When the tears finally stopped, she dried her face and kissed the baby tenderly. And then she went to the Silver Gypsy to see Jenna.
* * *
Christopher was fascinated with the faint purl of wind chimes and the brightly colored scarves overhead. “Just look at him,” Jenna exclaimed. “He’s getting a double chin.”
Beth smiled. “He’s gained half a pound since we brought him home.”
“He looks healthy, all right. You, on the other hand, look like hell.”
Pretending to be interested in one of the new necklaces Jenna had designed, Beth shrugged. “In order for Christopher to put on weight, someone has to feed him. Often. I’m running low on sleep these days, that’s all.”
Jenna made a most unbecoming sound. “What a crock. You’re one of those people whose eyes become luminous when you’re tired, and you know it. Come on,” she said, swishing through the beads in the doorway leading to the tiny back room. “We’ll brew a pot of tea and you can tell Auntie Jenna all about what’s bothering you.”
Jenna was three years younger than Beth and looked about as auntlike as a sheikh’s belly dancer. Her long black hair swished when she walked, her strappy sandals showcasing small feet and narrow ankles. She was five three and had once said she’d been built low to the ground for easier maneuverability. Suddenly Beth found herself sitting at the tiny glass table in one corner, sipping strong tea and telling Jenna about her married life with Tony.
“We’re both miserable,” she said, nearing the end of her account. “We’re so fidgety and edgy and polite, I want to scream.”
“Of course you’re fidgety. You’re sleeping with a man who can’t touch you.”
“Do you think I should move back to the spare bedroom?”
Jenna snorted. “Few marriages work without sex, especially when one of the parties involved is nicknamed the Italian Stallion. I think you should take up where you left off several days ago.”
Beth shook her head. “That’s interesting advice coming from someone who hasn’t had a date in years.”
Jenna’s brown eyes twinkled like her Gypsy ancestors as she said, “We’re not talking about my sex life. We’re talking about yours. It’s a good thing, because I haven’t taken a man home in so long I hardly remember who puts what where. Be a pal and refresh my memory. Details would be good. Lots and lots of details.”
Beth threw a linen napkin at her and took another sip of her tea. “I don’t think I can go back to the way things were before.”
“Why not?”
When Beth didn’t answer, Jenna nodded knowingly. “Aaah. I think I’m beginning to understand. You’re afraid of getting hurt. But you can’t guard your heart against falling in love, Beth, no matter how hard you try. If it happens, it happens. You’ll have to accept it, along with the risks that go with it.”
Her best friend’s advice may have been well intended and sound, but Beth didn’t know if she could follow it. Maybe marriages couldn’t work without sex, and maybe she couldn’t protect herself from being hurt. But now that she’d thrown this up between her and Tony, she didn’t know how to get past it.
“I don’t know, Jenna. I want my relationship with Tony to be more than just sex between two consenting adults. I want emotion and passion.”
Jenna narrowed her eyes and lowered her chin. “Oh, my God. You want the fairy tale. Just remember how uncomfortable glass slippers would get in the long haul.”
Shaking her head at Jenna’s terminology, Beth said, “I don’t know how you’ve made it this long without meeting a man who can match you wit for wit.”
“There are none out there. Believe me, I’ve looked. Just remember the reason you got married in the first place.”
“For Christopher,” Beth said quietly.
“For Christopher,” Jenna seconded.
Propping her chin in her hand, Beth said, “How is it that you always seem to be able to keep sight of what’s important?”
Jenna flicked her hair behind her shoulders and busied herself at the tiny sink. “It’s a curse. And that’s exactly what I’m going to put on you if you don’t get out of here and let me get some work done.”
“You’re the best, Jenna.”
Jenna rattled off something in another language. With a mild shake of her head, Beth settled Christopher in the crook of her left arm and reached into the gigantic purse she carried these days. Fumbling around for a diaper and an extra bottle, she drew her hand out. “Here,” she said, pressing a tissue into Jenna’s fingers. “You missed a tear in the corner of your eye.”
It took a lot to render Jenna Maria Brigante speechless. Beth rather enjoyed it, but since she didn’t need a hex added to her list of problems, she and Christopher went home. She spent the rest of the morning wondering what she would do if she actually allowed herself to fall in love only to have Tony decide he couldn’t live with the fact that he was never going to bring a child of his own into the world.
It’s what Barry had done, she thought, rocking Christopher later that afternoon. The baby turned his face into the crook of her neck and sighed as if he had everything he needed. In that instant she realized that this situation was very different from her situation with Barry. When he’d left her she’d had no one. Now she had Christopher, and as soon as the adoption was final, nobody would ever be able to take him from her. Jenna was right. No matter what happened between her and Tony, Christopher would always be her son.
Chapter Nine
Tony entered his house the way he always did, via the back door. Trudging into the kitchen, he dropped his jacket over a chair and glanced around for a sign of Beth. She was nowhere in sight, but the kitchen was immaculate. In fact, the only things out of place were an empty baby bottle and a used teacup by the sink. A legal-looking document on the table caught his eye. With a sense of dread he understood all too well, he strode on over for a closer look. He scanned the top page and scowled. He’d been doing a lot of that this week, so much in fact that the people at the hospital had started steering clear of him. He could handle their furtive glances and obvious sidesteps, but the next person who asked him if he’d been taking ornery lessons from Abigail Horton was going to get a piece of his mind. As per Florence Donahue’s instructions, he’d rearranged his work schedule so he could be here to care for Christopher while Beth worked. Normally she worked on the weekend, but this time she was working the Thursday afternoon shift. A quick glance at his watch told him he’d arrived home with a few minutes to spare. Deciding that Beth was probably still getting ready, he headed for the stairs.
The entire house was quiet, except for the occasional note of a home-sung lullaby filtering down the open staircase. He’d heard her sing to the baby before, but he’d never known a lullaby to be desire-inducing. Man, he had it bad.
Following the sound of that low, sultry voice, he strode to the doorway of Christopher’s room. Beth was waltzing the baby around the room in a dance so slow and graceful it made his lungs feel too large for his chest. Christopher’s eyes were open, but Beth’s were closed, the expression on her face dreamy and full of maternal love.
She was wearing her nursing uniform. The material looked soft, as if it had been washed a hundred times, the fabric following the graceful contours of her slender body. A shudder went through him, a direct result of all the days of watching her, of wanting her and not having her.
She placed Christopher on the changing table, completely oblivious to his presence and to the chaotic turn his hormones had taken. “Whoever said there was no such thing as love at first sight?” she crooned, unfastening the baby’s tiny pajamas. “I took one look at you, and I was lost, yes I was.”
Tony stood motionless, listening to the lull of her voice. Her smile enticed, her eyes danced. He’d never seen so much emotion, had never heard so much tenderness, had never witnessed so much pure pleasure in another woman’s features. That tiny baby brought Beth to life as a mother, and in a way Tony had never thought about before, Chris brought her to life as a woman, too.
The desire Tony had been fighting changed subtly, only to be replaced with something he liked a lot less. Jealousy. He ground his teeth together, calling himself every name in the book. What kind of man was jealous of the attention his wife paid to an innocent child? A man who hadn’t made love to his wife in almost a week, that’s who. If that didn’t change soon, he was going to go out of his mind.
