Lightning (7 page)

She glanced absently at a magazine, looked at her watch several times, and ten minutes after she'd arrived, a woman in a white coat came to the doorway of the waiting room and called her name. There was something very loud and impersonal about the way she said it, but Alex followed her without a word. There was something strangely invasive about having people search you for disease, as though you were carrying a concealed weapon. There was an implication of guilt just by being here, and as Alex unbuttoned her blouse she realized that she felt both angry and frightened. It was terrifying. What if there was something there? What if they found something? But as her mind started to play tricks on her and convince her she was doomed, she forced herself to realize that this was just routine. It was no more ominous than her Pap smear. The only difference was that it was being performed by strangers instead of by people she knew, but other than that, there was no difference.

The woman in the white coat stood by while she undressed, and she offered her a gown, and told her to leave it open down the front, but other than that, there was no conversation. She pointed to a sink and some towels and told Alex to wipe off any deodorant or perfume, and then pointed to a machine standing in a corner. It looked like a large X-ray machine, and had a plastic tray and some shields somewhere in the middle. Having washed while the other woman watched, Alex walked to the machine, anxious to get it over with, and the technician rested Alex's breast on the plastic tray, and then proceeded to slowly lower the upper part of the machine down on her breast and squeeze it. The technician tightened the machine as much as possible, draped Alex's arm awkwardly, told her to hold her breath, and then took two pictures, and repeated the same procedure on the other side, and told her it was over. It was actually very simple and it was more uncomfortable than truly painful. It would have been nice to know the results then and there, but Alex felt confident that they would be fine when they called her doctor on Monday.

She left the office as quickly as she had come, grabbed a cab home, and was there in time to watch Annabelle finish her lunch and dress her for ballet. And for some odd reason, it felt better than ever to be there. One couldn't totally ignore the statistics that forced women to have mammograms each year. One in eight or one in nine women would be struck with breast cancer in their lifetime, depending on the source of the statistics. Even having been near them, having been tested for it, made one shudder a little, and be grateful for the simple blessings in one's life, like taking a child to a ballet class. And Alex couldn't help but think how lucky she was, as she stooped to kiss Annabelle's bright red curls as they left for Miss Tilly's.

“Why didn't you pick me up at school?” Annabelle asked plaintively. Alex picking her up at school on Fridays was a ritual she was used to and loved, and she resented any deviation from it.

“I had to go to the doctor for a checkup, and he took longer than I thought, sweetheart. I'm sorry.”

“Are you sick?” She looked suddenly worried and protective of her mother.

“Of course not.” Alex smiled. “But everybody has to get checkups, even mommies and daddies.”

“Did he give you a shot?” She looked intrigued, and Alex laughed as she shook her head.

“No,” but they squeezed my boob flat as a pancake … “I didn't need one.”

“Good.” Annabelle looked relieved as she skipped along beside her mother.

They proceeded to Miss Tilly's uneventfully after that, and after class they went out for ice cream, and then walked home slowly, talking about what they were going to do over the weekend. Annabelle wasn't too excited about going to the zoo. She wanted to go to the beach to swim, and Alex was explaining to her that it was too cold now to do that.

When they got home, Alex put on a video for her, and they lay down on Alex's bed and relaxed together. It seemed as though it had been a long day, preparing for the trial, and having the mammogram had left her feeling drained, and she was happy to stay home and relax with her daughter.

Carmen went home early on Friday afternoons, and Alex had dinner ready when Sam got home, later than usual, at seven. She had already fed Annabelle by then, and he opted to wait to eat until Annabelle went to bed, which sounded good to Alex too. And at eight-fifteen, they were sitting in the kitchen eating fish and baked potatoes and salad, and he was telling her about his lunch with the Englishman, who had impressed him a lot more this time.

“You know, I'm actually feeling very positive about him. I think I was just worrying unduly. Larry and Tom are right. The guy is a whiz, and he could bring us some fantastic business from the Middle East. You can't ignore that, even if he is a little flashy.”

“And if he doesn't bring in business from the Middle East?” she asked cautiously.

“He will. You should hear his client list from Saudi alone.”

“And will they follow him here?” Alex was playing devil's advocate, but Sam didn't mind it. He felt comfortable now about the new man, and he had green-lighted the decision to take him in as a fourth partner. “Are you sure, Sam? You were so worried about him yesterday. Maybe you ought to trust that.”

“I think I was being hysterical. Honestly, Alex, I talked to the guy for three hours today …he's the real thing. I know it. We're going to make billions,” he said confidently.

“Don't be greedy,” she scolded with a grin. “Does this mean we can buy a chateau in the South of France?”

“No, but possibly a town house in New York, and an estate on Long Island.”

“We don't need that,” she said easily, and he smiled. He didn't need it either but he liked being the whiz kid of the financial world. It meant a lot to him. He liked the acclaim he had gotten from being brilliant with venture capital. His reputation and his success meant a lot to him, as well as his profits, which was why she thought he should be very careful about their new partner. But she trusted his judgment. And if the Englishman had convinced him, she was prepared to accept that.

“How did your meetings go this morning?” he asked her. “All set for your trial next week?” He took a strong interest in her work too. Until Annabelle had come along, it was what had energized their life together.

“As much as I'm going to be. I think we'll be okay. I hope so. My client really deserves to win this one.”

“He will, with you defending him,” Sam said confidently, and she leaned over and kissed him. He looked handsome in a red sweater and jeans. He always looked good to her, better and better lately.

“What did Anderson say, by the way?”

“Not much. We ran through all the possibilities again. Pergonal still scares me, Serophene still makes me nuts, and no one wants to do in vitro on a forty-two-year-old woman, although he said some will. We talked about donor eggs, which don't appeal to me at all, and he said we might want to try artificial insemination of your sperm next month. He says sometimes that makes all the difference. I didn't know how you'd feel about it,” she said it almost shyly, and he smiled.

“I can live with it if I have to. I can think of better ways to have fun than playing with myself and reading dirty magazines, but if that'll do the trick, let's try it.”

“You're amazing. I really love you.” She kissed him, and he kissed her hard. But the test still hadn't been blue that afternoon, so they couldn't go too far.

“What about this weekend?”

“He said go for it, whenever it turns blue. It hasn't yet, but I'm pretty sure it will tomorrow. It was almost there today. And he made me have a mammogram, just in case I get pregnant. Because he said that if I get pregnant, I wouldn't be having one for another year or two. It was a pain in the neck, and I had to have Carmen pick Annabelle up at school, but it was no big deal. It just seems so weird, and suddenly you realize that people do get bad results, and that scared the hell out of me.”

“But the results were fine, right?” He looked suddenly uncomfortable, and she smiled reassuringly.

“I'm sure they were. They don't tell you right there. They'll call him next week. They can only tell you if the radiologist is around, and he wasn't. But he had checked me for lumps and I didn't have any. It was just routine. High maintenance, as they call it.”

“Does it hurt?” He sounded curious, and somewhat horrified.

“Not really. They squash your boob in a machine, as flat as they can, and take pictures of it. There's something vaguely degrading about it, but I'm not sure why. You feel kind of vulnerable and stupid. I couldn't wait to leave. I'd never been so happy to see Annabelle in my life. I guess it's a reminder that things do go wrong, those things do happen to someone, and you're damn lucky when it's not you. The reminders of that are pretty scary.”

“Forget about it. Nothing like that is going to happen to you,” he said decisively, and helped her clear the table. They had a little wine, watched a movie on TV, and went to bed earlier than usual. They'd both had a hard week, and she wanted to get some rest before she became fertile over the weekend. And just as she had thought, she discovered that the kit had turned blue the next day. She knew before noon, and she whispered it to Sam over a late breakfast. Carmen took Annabelle to the park, and Sam and Alex went back to bed and made love. And she stayed in bed for over an hour after that, with her bottom propped up on pillows. She had read somewhere that that might help, and was willing to try almost anything. But she was still looking sleepy and satisfied, when Sam came back for a cuddle with her just before lunchtime.

“You going to stay in bed all day?” he teased her, nuzzling her neck with his lips, and sending another thrill through her.

“With that kind of incentive, I just might.”

“When do we get to play again?” He was as fervent about it as she was.

“Anytime tomorrow.”

“Can we try again this afternoon?” he asked huskily, and she laughed as he kissed her. “I think we need more practice.” But they both knew that they weren't “supposed” to do it again until the next day. “Anyway, just concentrate on making a baby,” Sam whispered to her, and then went off to shower and dress, while she dozed off again for a few minutes.

Ten minutes later, she joined him in the shower, and he was startled and aroused to feel her just behind him. It was agony forcing themselves not to make love again. The temptation was great, and they had always enjoyed each other's bodies. It was hard to restrain themselves now sometimes, just for the sake of maintaining his “sperm count.”

“Maybe we should forget all this and just become sex fiends again …” he breathed into her ear, as he held her close to him in the shower, feeling the warm water pelt down on them, as little rivers of it snuck into their mouths as he kissed her. “I love you so much …”

“Me too …” she said hungrily, as she felt him throbbing against her stomach. “Sam … I want you….”

“No … no … no …” he said, teasing her, in a hoarse voice, as he turned the cold water on full force on both of them, and she screamed in astonishment as it hit her, and then she laughed as they both leapt out of the shower.

They were wearing jeans and sitting sedately in the kitchen drinking coffee and reading the paper when Carmen and Annabelle came home. Carmen made them all lunch, and Sam and Alex took Annabelle to the park that afternoon, and they all went to dinner at J. G. Melon that night. It was fun doing that sometimes on the weekends. And on Sunday, they rode their bicycles in the park, and Sam put Annabelle in the little seat on the back of his, as they rode around the reservoir. It was a beautiful warm day, and on Sunday night they all agreed that it had been the perfect weekend.

As soon as they put Annabelle to bed, and they knew she was asleep, Sam locked the door to their bedroom, and slowly peeled away Alex's clothes until she stood before him like a long, elegant flower, one perfect, exquisite lily. He made love to her as he had before, with all the force of his need, and his lust, and his passion. She was a woman who brought many things out in him, all things that only made him love and want her more. Sometimes he felt as though he couldn't love her more, but there was always a surge, a moment, a floodgate that opened somewhere and drowned them both with his feelings.

“Wow …if I don't get pregnant after that, I give up …” she whispered weakly afterwards, as she lay with her head on his chest, and he gently stroked one of her breasts with enticing fingers.

“I love you, Alex …”he said softly, turning over to look at her. She was so beautiful. So perfect. She always had been.

“I love you too, Sam … I love you more …” she teased, and he smiled and shook his head.

“You couldn't.”

They kissed again, and lay entwined on their bed, not even sure anymore if it mattered if they made a baby.

Chapter 4

O
n Monday morning, Alex got up before Annabelle or Sam, and she was dressed when she woke them both up, and breakfast was already on the table, and in the oven. She helped Annabelle dress, as usual, but Sam had promised to take her to school. Alex wanted to get to the office early. She had a mountain of things to do, and final details to prepare for the trial on Wednesday. And she had also scheduled a meeting with Matthew Billings to discuss several cases. Brock Stevens was going to be working with her all day, along with both of their paralegals.

“I'll probably be home late,” she explained to Sam, and he understood, although Annabelle looked sad when her mother told her.

“Why?” she asked, with her huge green
eyes
turned up to her mother's. She hated it when Alex came home late, and Alex didn't seem to like it either.

“I have a trial to get ready for, sweetheart. You know, when I go to court and talk to the judge.”

“Can't you just call him on the phone?” Annabelle looked very unhappy, and Alex smiled at her, and gave her a kiss and a hug, and promised to come home as early as she could possibly manage.

”I'll call you when you come home from school. Have a good day, sweetheart, and have fun in school. Promise?” She touched her chin and turned the sweet little face up to her, and Annabelle nodded, her huge eyes looking into her mother's. “What about my Halloween costume?”