Читать книгу The Pregnant Virgin - Anne Eames, Anne Eames - Страница 10

Back in her bed midmorning, Ali wiped away another tear. All the way home she had cried. She was surprised there was anything left.

Everything had gone well. Too well. More like coldly efficient. Her hand circled her belly and she wondered what was going on in there. Maybe it had happened already. At the clinic they had warned her not to get her hopes up too high, that it often took a few tries. But they didn’t warn her that she might feel so blue. In spite of all the facts she had collected, this wasn’t how she had imagined things would happen.

Yes, she had wanted a baby, but always in her dreams there had been this wonderful man who adored her, who she loved with total abandon, whose arms would be wrapped tightly around her at a time like this.

She never felt so alone in her life.

She closed her eyes and tried to summon up the blue eyes, the dimpled smile. Only a vague blur, nothing in focus.

The phone on the nightstand rang. She let the machine pick it up. Then she heard Lynne’s voice and she rolled over and grabbed the receiver.

“I’m just leaving the house. Pick you up out front in about twenty minutes.” When Ali didn’t respond immediately, Lynne said, “Are you all right?”

“Hmm? Oh…just a little sleepy.”

“Well, go splash some cold water on your face and wake up. It’s a beautiful day out. Wear something lightweight.”

Ali replaced the receiver and gingerly lowered her legs to the floor. She knew she was being overly cautious, but she dreaded standing and walking around. She had a mad desire to stand on her head in the corner. She’d heard somewhere that it helped increase your chances.

Suddenly she laughed out loud at her weird musings. This was a day to celebrate, not to be maudlin. She’d been taking herself far too seriously and it was time that changed. She opened the closet bifolds and stared inside.

Lynne and the game would be a fun diversion…as long as she didn’t tell her sister about this morning. No, before she talked to her sister about things again, Ali would wait until there was real news.

She found a short-sleeved maize pullover with University of Michigan stitched in blue over the breast pocket. She changed quickly and after tucking her top into a pair of jeans, she stood in front of the dresser mirror, meeting her eyes head-on.

Did she look different somehow? She told herself no and raced for the elevator.

But as she stepped into the lobby and strode out the door she felt as though a neon sign hung over her head announcing to the world what she had just done.

With two minutes left in the first half, Michigan was ahead by ten points. Ali turned to Lynne and said, “Think I’ll head up to the concession stand before the line is too long. Can I bring you anything?”

“Hot dog with mustard and a diet Coke. Want me to come along?”

“Not unless you want to. I can manage.”

“I’ll stay here, then. Not in the mood to fight the crowd.”

Apparently others had had the same idea as Ali; when she approached the concession all the lines were at least twenty deep. She queued up and scanned the crowd looking for familiar faces. With attendance exceeding one hundred thousand at every game there were many times she would never see a person she knew. It looked as if today would be one of those days.

“Ali?”

She turned at the sound of her name. Just behind her in the next line she spotted Michelle. She stepped closer and the two women embraced.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” Michelle said. “We could have driven together.”

“I’m with my sister Lynne. Is your husband here?”

“Somewhere in this chaos.”

“I’m glad he got some time off.”

“Well, he’s not totally off. He brought a couple of young doctors with him. He’s got his eye on one of them to sponsor as a surgical resident.”

The lines inched forward and they talked about the game and the beautiful weather, while all along Ali itched to tell Michelle about this morning. But the crowd had packed in tighter and there was no way their conversation wouldn’t be overheard. She had a fleeting vision of the whole area falling dead still at the exact moment she uttered something such as “sperm bank,” and she chuckled under her breath.

“If your sister isn’t in a rush to go home, why don’t the two of you join us for pizza after? We’re going to the State Street Grill. We like to eat first and avoid the worst of the traffic jam.”

“I’ll ask her. Thanks.”

Ali reached the head of the line and placed her order. Before she stepped away from the counter, Michelle said, “We’ll never find each other later, so why don’t you just come if you can. We’ll save two extra seats.”

“Okay. If we don’t show, let’s try for lunch early next week.” Michelle nodded and turned in the opposite direction.

When Ali sat next to Lynne, she told her about Michelle’s offer, and Lynne said it sounded like a good plan. They ate their hot dogs and only spilled half of their Cokes when Michigan scored again early in the third quarter. The band played another round of “Hail to the Victors,” and Ali and Lynne shouted out the lyrics along with the rest of the packed house.

It was just as far to the car as to the restaurant, so Ali and Lynne decided to walk. The sidewalks were teaming with fans, all regaling each other with highlights of another big win.

The excitement was infectious and Ali lifted her face to the sun and smiled. What a glorious day. Great weather, great game, great company. And most of all, she very well may have realized one of her life’s biggest dreams. Now she wondered why she had indulged in such a melancholy morning.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Lynne said just outside the restaurant.

“Oh, just enjoying this perfect day.” Lynne opened the door and Ali followed her inside. “Can’t wait for you to meet Michelle. I know you’ll like her.” And Ali couldn’t wait to meet Michelle’s husband. She’d heard so much about Kevin.

The room was elbow to elbow, televisions blasting replays of the game over the din of the crowd. In the back corner Ali spotted Michelle waving her arm and they inched their way through the press of bodies to the rectangular-shaped table along the wall. At one end of the table was a distinguished-looking man she assumed was Kevin. There was gray at his temples with smile lines at the corners of his eyes. His face was tanned, warm and very open. She could see why Michelle—

The two young doctors across from Michelle turned in unison and the air rushed out of Ali’s lungs.

Him! Oh, no. Not today.

Never one to be shy, Lynne had already slipped into the seat next to Michelle and was introducing herself, which meant there was only one seat left at the end of the table. Next to…him.

Michelle introduced her husband and the two young men, Craig and Brad. Ali smiled and choked out an appropriate response as she met each man’s eyes. But when she came to Brad she saw a hint of anxiety on his face, leaving her no doubt that he recalled exactly where they had first met. Thankfully her sister cut the awkward moment short.

“Ali tells me you two have twin preschoolers. That must keep you busy.”

Michelle looked at Kevin lovingly and then back to Lynne. “Yes, they do. But we’re lucky to have such wonderful sitters. Gives us a break now and then. Their grandmothers are probably spoiling them rotten this very moment.”

“Both of your mothers are at home with them?”

“Well, not exactly. My mother died before Abe and Abbie were born, and Kevin’s mom lives in Europe. We’ve sort of adopted a pair of elderly sisters as grandmothers.” Michelle laughed and took Kevin’s hand. “We met them on a cruise the same day we met each other, and they’ve been in our lives ever since.”

Kevin chuckled. “Millie and Hazel are quite the characters. They volunteer at the hospital. You’re bound to run into them someday.” He shook his head and chuckled again. “And believe me, you’ll know them when you do.”

Kevin and Michelle took turns telling about the relentless matchmaking efforts of the older sisters on their cruise, but Ali found it difficult to concentrate. She munched on pizza crust and stared straight ahead, feeling Brad’s eyes fixed on her. Mercifully the conversation drifted to work and he became engaged in a long discussion with Kevin. Finally she felt the tension ease.

With his face turned toward the other end of the table, Ali studied Brad’s pleasing profile. She loved how strands of unruly shiny hair fell across his forehead, giving him a relaxed, uninhibited look. And of course there were his eyes, every bit as powerful as she remembered. They were watching Kevin’s face now. Intense, thinking, processing, never drifting. She liked a person who kept eye contact while conversing. So many didn’t. She liked—

She liked everything she saw. And the nearness of him was driving her crazy. How absurd this whole thing was—her sitting here, acting calm, cool and collected, while at this very moment she may be carrying this man’s child.

Yet as absurd as it seemed, her imagination ran full steam ahead. She wondered if they might go out sometime…if he danced. If maybe—

If maybe she was crazy. She could hear it now. I’d like you to meet my date, Ali. She works at the sperm bank where I make donations.

The waiter came with the check and Kevin picked it up. Everyone had thanked him and they were finishing their drinks when Craig, who had been fairly quiet, looked at his watch. “Gee, it’s later than I thought.”

“Got a hot date waiting?” Brad teased.

“As a matter of fact, yes. But that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking it’s going to be dark before we get home.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll protect you from the boogeyman.”

“Gee, thanks. But it’s your old lady I was thinking of.”

Ali felt everything inside her go rigid and cold. And Craig’s explanation to Kevin and Michelle did nothing to ease her disappointment.

“Sally will be sitting in the window watching for him when you drop him off. Just wait and see.”

“You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home.” Everyone laughed as they stood and gathered up their belongings. Everyone except Ali and Lynne, who was looking sympathetically at her sister.

Ali stood, feeling numb, and pushed in her chair. She hated men calling their wives “old lady.” It showed no respect. At the very least Brad could have corrected Craig by using a more endearing term. She sighed. Who was she kidding? It wasn’t what he’d called his wife that bothered her most. It was the fact that he had one.

She lagged behind the others as they made their way to the exit, not wanting anyone to see her face. Tears burned at the back of her eyes. Why had she assumed he was single? The clinic certainly didn’t require it. She swallowed hard and told herself it shouldn’t matter that he was married. She had never planned to have a relationship with the donor anyway. He was strictly a face for the father.

Yet as everyone said their goodbyes and walked their separate ways she realized how much she had hoped for more.

“Wouldn’t you know?” Lynne said, stepping up the pace back to her car.

“What?”

“Brad. I was getting all excited for you, thinking maybe here was a good one. Then the ‘old lady’ remark. I’m feeling frustrated for you, sweetie.” She put her arm around Ali’s shoulder as they walked.

Ali shrugged, trying her best to seem unfazed. “Easy come, easy go.”

They got into the car and Ali found a classical radio station and reclined her seat-back. After twenty minutes of talking about little Keri, Lynne fell silent and Ali was relieved. She was tired of sounding lighthearted. She didn’t have to pretend with Lynne; she could have told her the truth about the source of her emotional pendulum today. But she felt too vulnerable to hear any reproach in her sister’s voice. Besides, she had her pride. If she gave voice to her sadness right now, it would be tantamount to admitting she’d made a mistake.

She hadn’t, she lectured herself. She would be a good mother and surround her baby with love and affection. That was what this morning was about. That was all it was about. If she had made any mistake, it was in letting her imagination run rampant with thoughts of Brad.

If only he’d remained a stranger. But sharing a meal with him, knowing each other on a first-name basis, having mutual friends…

No! She’d just have to put him out of her mind.

But after Lynne dropped her off and Ali was alone in her apartment, she stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window facing the Detroit River and wondered if after today Brad would continue coming to the clinic. She wondered if his wife knew he was a donor. She wondered if he had been as uncomfortable tonight as she had. But most of all, she wondered what he was thinking now.

With Saturday night traffic slowing to a crawl just outside Greektown, Brad and Craig thanked the Singletons and said they would walk the rest of the way.

Brad lived closest, in a bare-bones, one-room walkup just off Monroe, a couple of blocks straight ahead and less than a mile from the hospital, which was convenient since he couldn’t always count on his old clunker of a car to start. Most days he preferred walking home, anyway, a chance to clear his head. It wasn’t always possible to leave work behind, especially when there were critical or terminal patients.

But today he’d been lucky. Morning rounds were uncomplicated; everyone was stable. He’d been able to enjoy the game and for once not worry. Everything had been perfect—the weather, the game, the company. Until after, when—

He shook his head and tried to clear thoughts of Ali from his mind. What a sick twist of fate that she would keep crossing his path this way. First at the clinic last Monday, which had provided him with enough stimulation to get the job done, and then later in the week in the cafeteria. It had been hard to take his eyes off her both times. Now again today. Each encounter with her added another layer of unwanted attraction.

“Hey, you got that stressed-out look on your face again. It’s Saturday night.” Craig punched his shoulder. “Lighten up, guy. Let’s go find us a party.”

“Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

“Negative. You?”

“Some of us have to keep the place going.”

They walked a ways without talking, stepping around slower moving pedestrians, and Brad thought he was home free. Craig hadn’t mentioned Ali once.

“So what did you think?”

Damn. “About what?”

“Ali, man. You do have a pulse, don’t you?”

Brad shrugged and hoped he looked unimpressed. “She’s okay, I guess. I don’t know. She didn’t have much to say.”

“Who cares? Did you look at her? I mean really look at her?” Craig let out a low wolf whistle. “The way that old alma mater lettering stretched across her breast pocket. I thought the stitching was going to pop any second. Wow. And what a face! That blond hair looked like it could be natural, too. And those eyes! Elizabeth Taylor, eat your heart out. I’ve never seen such violet eyes.”

Brad laughed in spite of himself. “Maybe you should ask her out.”

“Huh. I don’t think she knew I was there. She only had eyes for you, my man. Sad, but true.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I watched her watching you all through the meal. She barely ate, poor girl.”

“Give me a break.”

“I’m serious. She was really checking you out. So why don’t you ask her out?”

“Don’t even start.”

“What are you? Some kind of monk? I can’t remember the last time I saw you with a woman. Third year med school?”

Brad walked faster and ignored the question. They both remembered how that had worked out—an ambitious redhead with eyes on the brass ring.

“Give me one good reason why you shouldn’t give Ali a call.”

“I’m too busy.”

“Never stopped me. I work as many hours as you do.”

“Then I don’t have your energy.” Nor your money. A simple fact that Craig had never had to face. Dates cost. Still, he knew neither time nor money was the true reason to avoid Ali.

“Come on, man. Ya gotta have some fun.”

“I do. Today was fun.” Most of it.

Craig stopped at the intersection and faced him. “I could find out where she works. Maybe you could—”

“It isn’t going to happen, so forget it.” He turned away and eyed the traffic light impatiently.

Craig didn’t move when the light changed. “I detect there’s more to this story. Am I right?”

Brad stepped off the curb and Craig stopped him.

“Well? Am I?”

Brad let out a long breath and backed up onto the sidewalk. There was only one way to shut Craig up and that was to tell him the truth. “Okay. But I don’t want to hear ‘I told you so.”’

“What? What?”

Brad leaned closer and whispered, “She works at the clinic.”

“What clinic?” Craig said loudly, catching the interest of a passing couple.

Brad gave him a bugged-eyed stare and a few seconds to figure it out.

“No! You don’t mean—”

Brad nodded, wishing this would be the end of the subject, but knowing sooner or later Craig would bring it up again.

Craig just stood there shaking his head, until finally he said, “Sure you don’t want to hang out with me tonight?”

“Positive.”

The light turned green again and they crossed the street. “What a waste,” Craig mumbled under his breath.

Brad wished he could disagree. But he couldn’t. It had been a long time since he’d been attracted to someone. All through dinner he had felt an undercurrent of something going on between them. And the one time he had accidentally brushed her leg under the table he’d felt his pulse quicken. The mere closeness of her had generated more heat than his rusted radiator on the coldest night. Strange. They had barely spoken to each other, yet—

Craig stopped in front of Trapper’s Alley. A few nurses from the hospital standing just inside saw him and came running out. Brad called good-night over his shoulder and kept walking, glad to be alone with his thoughts. If he was going to spend the evening debating what to do about Ali—

Wait a minute. What debate? Was there a choice?

Okay, maybe. In either case, he much preferred the quiet privacy of his Murphy bed to sort things out than on some ear-splitting dance floor.

He rounded the last corner to his building and had a sudden image of dancing with Ali. He could almost feel her—

A wino staggered out of an alley and Brad nearly knocked him down. After righting the guy, Brad apologized and went on, telling himself to get a grip.

Across the street, framed in the first-floor picture window, he saw his landlady rocking away, watching the world go by. When she spotted him she smiled a gap-toothed smile and waved a gnarled brown hand. Her door to the hall was open, so he called out to her as he climbed the stairs.

“Good night, Sally.”

“You in for the night?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled.

“That’s a good boy.”

The old lady could sometimes be a pain, but he knew she cared about her building and her tenants.

There was a lot to be said for that.