Having Nathan's Baby (5 page)

“We’d better get on
the road. Thanks for everything,” Nathan said. Giving the woman a broad smile, I took Nathan’s hand again and led him out of the courtyard.

We
were on the other side of the street before I had to stop. I leaned against the wall, still weak from my sickness. I let him test my clammy forehead with his cool palm, but my mind was elsewhere. “I can’t believe you were about to announce to that waitress…” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

Nathan
brushed aside my comment with a frown, his arms on my shoulders. “Who cares?”

“I do!”
I yanked away from his grasp. I felt anxious and desperate in the aftermath of the waitress’s keen observation. “You might’ve decided we’re playing happy families, but I haven’t made any decisions yet.” I put my face in my hands, breathing carefully to quash the nausea. “I don’t need anyone forcing my hand. I’m not ready to start announcing things.”

He walked away from
me, his tone grim. “You can’t treat this like it’s a bout of ‘flu indefinitely, you know.”

I
glared at him until my head started spinning again. It deflated my anger. A groan left me. “I can’t do this right now. I need to sit down somewhere quiet.”

“The car?” He was back at
my side, his arm around my shoulders.

“I want to stay outside,
” I said.

He looked around. “
There’s a river back there. We crossed the bridge on the way in.” He sighed. Despite whatever emotion was tensing his jaw, he pulled me close to him as he started towards the road again. “It’s pretty near to the market, so I can leave you alone for ten minutes while I pick up supplies. Let you get your head together.”

I
felt tearfully grateful, both for the physical warmth of his body next to mine and the emotional tact. I kept my body rigid and my head high, afraid he’d see how badly I was crumbling inside. Nathan actually wanting to be a part of this baby’s life was a game changer. The whole situation was spiraling out of control. It really was like discovering I was pregnant all over again.

He left
me on a bench close to the water, with promises to be back with the car in fifteen minutes. Alone finally, I exhaled a deep, tremulous breath. My heart rate slowed as I followed the view down to the gurgling water. It looked cold but vital. I breathed carefully, aware of the astringent chill in the air. I forced myself to stay calm, to resist the nausea. My eyes ran over the finely carved wooden hood over the bridge. I wondered how old it was; it looked like it had recently been lovingly restored if the glossy burnished red paint was any indication. I stared at it for a while, numb.

Somehow
my brain switched on again. I felt a stab of panic. Just two months ago I’d been a vital, capable member of society, charging around at fifty miles an hour wherever I went. I’d run the New York marathon and hosted a cocktail party for my friend’s engagement in the same week I’d been informed I was in the final two for the partnership at the firm. Now here I was, cobbled and weak, sitting next to a freezing river in the middle of nowhere. I was leaning on Nathan just to get one foot in front of the other. How had I gone from that to this?

I
swiped at my tears, too tired for anger. What was I going to do? As quickly as it took for a stick to turn pink, I’d gone from being in control of my life to watching from the sidelines. I sniffed, reaching into my pocket for a tissue. At least that was how it felt, especially now that Nathan had already formed a relationship with this small life inside of me. He’d made a connection … my eyes moistened again. How could he have made a connection, made such a bold decision, when I was still a jumbled mess? Of course he didn’t have to give birth, or nurse, or any of those other all-consuming things…

My
hands were cold and red; I imagined my nose was, too. I wondered for a second if the baby could feel all of this. Staring ahead, I took another deep breath and looked around at the woodland at the other side of the river. This would be a great place to bring up a child. New York was no place to raise children, with all the competitiveness and hierarchy and expectation placed on them so young. Children deserved time to play, to exist without concern for the past or the future. People were young for so little time and old for so long. Youth was something to be cherished. I’d been pushed through the entitled New York education system by my well-meaning parents, with all of its advantages and pressures, but I wouldn’t want that for my child.

That realization made something collapse inside of
me. I held the tissue at the inside corners of my eyes but it was soon soaked through. My throat ached as though the skin had been chafed. I knew what the right thing to do was. The right thing would be to have this baby and devote my life to it. Was it selfish of me to resent that? I might be pressured by my life in New York, but it was my life, and my choice! This all felt so ... I glanced around, trying to isolate the feeling. I felt – what? Cornered? Fearful? I just didn’t know if it was a programmed insistence on retaining my old life, or the scary unknown of a possible new life that was causing all of these emotions.

I
shifted my weight on the seat, and my hand automatically rested against my stomach. It felt comforting after the emotional trauma of the morning. All of this upset couldn’t be good for the baby. It might not feel the cold, but it must surely feel the rise in my heart rate, the adrenaline. I blew out a breath, forcing myself to relax. Why did Mother Nature make pregnancy so awful? Or was it only this awful when the woman refused to give into it? Either way, it seemed absurd to deny the vessel a decent breakfast. I realized I was suddenly ravenous again. The fresh air seemed to have cleared my head and taken away the worst of the nausea.

I
stood up carefully. Looking back up at the market, I wondered if Nathan was picking up any pickles. I had an overwhelming desire for a ham sandwich with lots of butter and pickles. Pickles probably weren’t on his essential supplies list. I blew out a long, shaky breath. I needed more time to think, but I was too cold to sit on this bench any longer. With slow, hesitant movements I stood up, looked around at the breathtaking view, and then started up the hill. I knew my face must be blotchy and red, but I didn’t care. I focused on the simple feeling of hunger. Hunger I could do something about. Hunger had a simple solution. I liked simple solutions.

I
stopped at the top of the hill by the roadside. My eyes ran down the length of the pretty street with its awnings and ornate benches and streetlamps. People bustled from store to store. My eyes searched the market across the other side of the street; I saw Nathan inside, through the glass, almost immediately. My eyes focused on him like a sponge soaking up water. He was laughing at something the woman at the till was saying. My heart rate slowed. It seemed to stop for a moment. I felt absolute calm inside as I watched him. His dark profile was handsome, yes, but it also held an indefinable male beauty that was singular. No other man, no other human being, evoked the same heady mix of emotional and physical yearning in me.

I
loved him. The notion arrived with a certainty I hadn’t felt for a long time. I loved him more than anyone else on the planet. Sure, if anyone had asked me before this, I would have admitted that, but as the kind of love one shared with a friend, with a lover. It was only now that I realized this love had been slowly expanding inside of me. It was populated with years of shared memories; of little disappointments and celebrations. It was strengthened by the care he’d taken with my hesitant intimacies. He’d given me so much of himself, too, shared so many of his desires and his fears with me. He’d always been there. He was my best friend, and the only lover I’d never tired of. He’d been my rock for nearly ten years. He was a constant in an otherwise ever-changing life.

Why was
I so terrified at the prospect of having his baby?

He looked up at that moment. His profile eased into hard, questioning features.
I smiled unconsciously. My heart contracted as I watched the relief spill into his features. He stared at me for a long moment, his dark eyes brooding. Even from this distance I could sense the tension in his jaw line. I felt the pull of his overwhelming masculinity across the meters between us; he was like a dark jewel shining in the rough. I was assailed by a fervent need to run across the street, into the store and straight into his embrace.  I was pregnant with his child, and he was happy. He wanted it. I realized I would probably never have this opportunity again.

Our
relationship was about to change. My decisions at this very moment would dictate which direction it went in.

The cash
ier distracted him; he turned away with a belated smile as he handed the woman something. Looking both ways, I took a step across the street and entered the store. The sound of laughter met me with bright welcome.

“
Here she is,” he said.

Meeting Nathan’s smile with one of
my own, I walked over to his side.

“Jayne
here,” he said, gesturing towards the cashier, “heard from Kristin at the cafe that you weren’t feeling so good.” His smile became pointed. “I was saying there’s a lot of ‘flu around at the moment-”

“You’d be best getting yourself along to the doctor just to be sure,”
Jayne interrupted.

I
felt very calm as I turned back to the woman. “I’ve already been to the doctor, actually. It’s not the ‘flu – I’m pregnant.” I felt Nathan stiffen beside me. I couldn’t turn, couldn’t look at him. The enormity of what I was doing was only just contained inside my tight chest. “We’re not quite at the three-month stage yet so we’re being careful.”

“Oh, well that’s wonderful news!”

The small market erupted in a volcano of congratulations. Nathan looked dazed, allowing his hand to be shaken by a myriad of well-wishers.

“I’m just going to pick up an
other couple of things,” I told him, feeling nervous now. Had I really just done that? “I’m guessing you didn’t get pickles, right?”

“Wait till the cravings kick in good and proper!” Jayne warned on a laugh.
She turned to Nathan. “You won’t want to be visiting the market without getting her to make a list first. Otherwise you’ll be back and forth like a pizza delivery boy.”

We
finished up the shopping and got back to the car within ten minutes. Once the bags were stowed and we had both buckled into the front seats, I sat waiting for the car to start. It didn’t. I turned to find Nathan staring out at the view of the river.

Heart hammering,
I extended my hand to touch his and then retreated. I wanted to reassure him. I wanted to apologize for my erratic behavior. I wanted to explain a million things, but they were all too confusing to understand in the first place. Instead, I said, “Looks like we’re having this baby, then.”

He made a sound that could have been laughter. But when he turned to look at
my, a frown furrowed his brows. “Do you want to? Or is this just for me?”

I
realized I was biting my lip when the pain signaled in my brain. Releasing it, I turned back to the view. The bridge loomed steady and constant, timeless. Everything had seemed a lot clearer when I was on that bench. “I’m not sure,” I said.

“What about your job?”
he asked.

“What about everything?” It was
my turn to utter a laugh. “We don’t even live in the same city.” Anxiety shut down the humor suddenly. “I haven’t worked out all the details.”

“But you
definitely want to have it?”

I
turned to him. “I won’t change my mind, if that’s what you mean. I am having the baby. I’m just not sure if I’m always going to feel this good about the decision,” I said. The continued anxiety forced honestly from me. “I might get back to New York and think ‘what the hell have I done?’ but I won’t go back on my word. I promise.”

A long breath left him. He smiled, looking dazed again as he turned back to the view. The silence was counted for a moment by the ticking of the dashboard clock. “Looks like we’re having this baby, then,” he echoed finally.

Chapter Five

Back at the house, I ate a sandwich and then retreated to the sunroom. I lay on the sofa near the windows, staring out at the lake. Nathan was in his studio, finishing up some calls. On the other hand, this would be the first day in around fifteen years that I hadn’t worked. I’d spent most of my adult life lost in work: Thanksgiving; Christmas Day; birthdays, weddings, funerals ... I always had to make a call or send an email or finish a report. My phone went off in the middle of the night regularly. I’d once cut a holiday short to come back to New York for an impeachment hearing; not because my boss had requested it, but because they’d moved the date and I hadn’t wanted to miss it. It felt very strange to be lying here doing nothing. 

My
life was about to change. I still couldn’t really believe it, even if I knew it was going to happen. Like night and day, my life was going to flip from being focused on my job to being focused on ... what? I ran a hand across my stomach. I had no plans to kick up my heels and retire from professional life to be a stay-at-home mom, even if I had all the admiration in the world for women, like my sister, who did. I had to work, but I also had no idea how to do my job at a slower pace. I had no idea how to live at a slower pace. How did people manage? I couldn’t imagine coming home from work at six every night and not working weekends. My inbox would overflow and my brain would implode through frustration. I needed to work; it was my lifeblood. But clearly I wouldn’t be able to do eighty-hour weeks once the baby arrived, or even in the years that followed, not when I saw how exhausted my friends with young children were. They were lucky to manage forty hours a week on top of everything else in the first few years.

I
turned on my back and blew out some air. The partnership ... a tight feeling constricted my breathing, like my chest was in a vice. What was it: regret? Absolute longing for something I’d worked so hard for, something so close and yet so out of my reach? I shifted my position and rubbed my eyes tiredly. I would just have to see how the chips fell after I announced my pregnancy. There was no sense in doing it yet; it would be best to wait and see how the race heated up over the next few weeks. Some part of me still hoped I could find way, even if right now it seemed impossible. Whatever the outcome, I wasn’t quite ready to give it up. I’d just decided I was going to have a baby, and as decisions went, that one was big enough for this month. I couldn’t deal with everything else today as well.

Lifting up
my legs, I crossed one ankle over my knee. I stared at the elegant design around the hanging light in the centre of the room for a moment, trying to distract myself from the tight feeling in my chest. I wondered how much of this work Nathan had overseen. It was so unlike him, this house. I guessed he hadn’t been around much while it was being decorated. His band’s last tour had covered the globe. I could remember the first few gigs over a year ago because he’d invited me to Tokyo for Thanksgiving. I’d had a deposition to do, so I’d requested a rain check. I felt a twinge of sadness as I thought about that now.

No!
I bolted upright, swinging my legs from the sofa. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do this. If I had this baby, I wasn’t going to make it a yardstick in my life that I measured everything else against. Sure, I worked too much. Sure, I’d missed out on a lot of things because of that. Just because I was changing horses for a while didn’t mean I was out of the race. This decision didn’t render everything that had come before meaningless, or ‘inconsequential’, no matter how Nathan had decided to view it. He was a man with ten houses all across the world, houses that he’d never decorated himself or spent any length of time in. He had two hundred friends and no confidantes. He lived for his job every bit as much as I did, but he wasn’t in danger of losing his now that he had a baby in his life. He had the luxury of deciding to change because he was already successful.

Fear eclipsed
me for a moment. Was I doing the right thing?

“You’ve got that look on your face again.”

My eyes flicked towards the door. He was strolling towards me, a bottle of water in one hand and a drumstick in the other. Throwing the drumstick on the opposite sofa, he sat himself down next to my and propped his feet up on the table.

I
frowned. “What look?”

“That, ‘oh
my God, what am I doing?’ look,” he said.

“I can’t imagine why.”

He took a swig from the bottle, watching me carefully. “Adam invited himself over.”

Adam was the bassist in the band. He and Nathan had known each
other almost as long as I had known Nathan. We were friends, Adam and I, but I didn’t consider him a close friend. I’d seen Adam destroy himself with alcohol too many times to have any cohesive relationship with him. “Is he clean and sober?” I asked.

“He certainly is.” Nathan’s brows lifted. “Clean, sober, and in love, I think.”

I let the proclamation settle without comment. The happy news didn’t deserve to be spoiled by my skepticism.

“He’s bringing
her with him. Rosalind,” Nathan said. “She’s a model.”

This,
I couldn’t let pass. “How original.”

Nathan laughed. “It’s biology. Men like pretty girls. They aim as high they can.”

“Is that why you decided to manage a band? To get girls?” I tucked my legs up underneath me, amazed that I’d never asked him this before.

“No.” He shook his head. “I had no problems getting girls before I started managing a band.”

I laughed aloud.

Restless, he clasped
my hand in his and played with my fingers. “Don’t pretend you didn’t get off on the whole band thing. You were in full groupie mode when you arrived backstage on campus-”

“I was looking for my coat and Jack
– Jim - ‘whatever-his-name-was’ introduced us!” I stared at him, open-mouthed in amused indignation. “I was too square and studious to be a groupie. I thought you were cute, but not because you were with a band. I wasn’t even there for most of the time they were playing.”

“You weren’t?” He frowned in disappointment before his gaze narrowed with mistrust. “You know, all the groupies say that. They pretend to be nonchalant about the band thing.”

“Can we not talk about the groupies?” I snatched my hand back.

His expression remained narrow on
me. “I don’t sleep with groupies, you know,” he said.

“You told me last night you hadn’t been a saint on tour. What did that mean?”

He sighed deeply. “It didn’t mean anything. Other than ... occasionally I get bored.”

I
played with my hand where he’d been touching it, weighed down by thoughts. “I just want to know ... these things will matter, after the baby’s born.”

“You said you weren’t really seeing someone. What did that mean?”
he asked me.

I
looked out of the window. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“
There’s been no one?”

I
shook my head.

“Except me?”

“I’ve been busy,” I said. I exhaled slowly. How did I tell him that sex with other men paled in comparison to the degree where it was hardly worth it? The short answer my brain arrived at was that I simply didn’t tell him. Things were messy and complicated enough.

His hand, undaunted by
my earlier rejection, slowly traced a line across the inside of my forearm. He was distracted again, frowning as his finger made a pattern on the sensitive flesh. I shivered despite myself, aware of a rash of goose bumps crawling across my skin. Pulling my arm away, I rubbed it harshly.

“W
hy are you so prickly today?” His smile was dark; I realized he was, if not yet aroused, thinking about becoming aroused. He looked like he wanted to seduce me; I could recognize that look from fifty paces.

I
wet my lips with my tongue, feeling that my mouth was dry. Hell … how could he do that to me so easily? “My head’s not in a great place,” I told him.

“You sp
end too much time in your head,” he said.

He was right
, but I resisted him nonetheless. “It’s probably the safest place for me right now.”

“But not the best place.” Pulling himself up, he leaned an arm across the back of the sofa. He gave
me his full attention. “You had sex with me last night before the gig. Why was it any different then?”

I
inhaled involuntarily. “I wasn’t thinking straight,” I said. “I’d been stressed for about two straight weeks without anyone to talk to except my sister. I was ...” I looked down, feeling the empty words for what they were. “... tense.”

“You’re still tense as far as I can s
ee,” he said, and he was amused now.

“I don’t think we should sleep in the same bed tonight.”
I rushed the words, feeling my body begin its slow, mutinous journey away from my mind.

Nathan’s smile deepened. “Sleeping in separate rooms isn’t going to stop us from having sex with each
other. You know that.”

“No, but all of this is confusing enough, and I’m not sure we should be so casual about our relationship. I think we have to set boundaries-”

“Chloe, I like touching you.” As if proving his point, he disturbed the escaped tendril of hair by my ear with his finger. “I feel affectionate towards you. There’s nothing casual about it.”

Casual affection … I tossed my hair back out of his reach, assailed by frustration suddenly.
“But we’re not in a committed relationship,” I said, my voice low with control. “People won’t understand-”

“What people?”

“The baby for a start.” I said. I frowned. “My family.”
Me
, I wanted to add. “We’ve got seven months to get used to the idea of becoming parents together. I don’t think having sex every time we feel like is going to help.”

He sat back, sighing heavily. “God forbid
we should actually try and enjoy this,” he said. His glance on me was distrustful. “Who cares about other people’s ideas of what a committed relationship is? This suits us. You told me yourself it suits you, your lifestyle, our setup. We’ve got a better relationship than anyone I know-”

B
etter or just more convenient for him? My brows lifted. “It’s not difficult to have a great relationship when you never ask anything from each other because you’re only in the same city a few times year.”

He looked as though he were considering being offended, but he didn’t take the bait.
“What do you want to ask me for?” He turned towards me, his interest pricked.

I
stilled. “I don’t want to ask for you anything specifically-”

“Non-specifically, then,
” he said.

I
floundered for a moment. “Couples ask things of each other. Like –” I shook my head. What did couples ask each other for? “Time with each other, and support with things. With problems.”

He was silent for a moment. Considering
me, he placed the bottle on the table and then turned to face me. “I’m going to support you with the baby, Chloe. You know that, right?” he said.

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
I felt a rise of fuzzy confusion; why was he twisting my words like this? “This isn’t about you and me. I’m talking about normal relationships-”

“Okay, but I want you to know you’re going to have my support. And my time. Whatever you need.” His tone was low with sincerity. “You promised me
earlier you wouldn’t change your mind about this. So I’m promising you that I won’t, either.”

Perplexed,
I decided it was probably best to take his words at face value. I hadn’t needed him to say that; I hadn’t been worrying about it. Why had we started discussing this anyway?

A smile lifted some of the heaviness from his eyes. “You’re really bad at this stuff, you know. Relationships and emotions. I thought I was bad.”

I rolled my eyes. “I am not.” He chuckled at my sullen, childish retort. I regarded him for a moment, my emotions falling serious. “This sex thing ...” I said. I paused in wry contemplation. “I don’t think we’ve ever spent more than a few hours in each other’s company without it. I think it’ll be good for us. Force us to develop other interests together.”

“You think?” His dark gaze caught
mine and pinned it down. “We’ve played strip poker; strip chess, strip baking, strip pong; strip everything. Are there any other interests out there we have already sexualized in some way?”

I
was laughing even before he reached the strip baking part. “My God, those blueberry muffins. They were awful.”

“I guess we could go for a walk, but we’ve done the outdoor sex thing, too. And then
there was the pool sex. And the lake sex-”

“We’ve also had a few conversations in the last ten years, as far as I remember-”

“And sofa sex,” he said, his voice close to my ear.

I
shifted my weight. Last night had been sofa sex. It probably would have been bed sex, too, if we hadn’t arrived so late. Maybe he was right about this being an objective we were set to fail. I was glaringly aware of the sofa under us right now. The house was empty; there was no one to witness us breaking our own rules.