The Memory Child (20 page)

“I’m surprised you could say that, Esther. You’ve met my wife. She’s dedicated to her job and wouldn’t dream of leaving it to follow me halfway around the world.” He was surprised at how calm his voice was when inside he was
seething.

“Of course she wouldn’t,” William agreed. “But she’ll be on maternity leave, so consider it a family vacation for the first little while. Things tend to work themselves out if you just give it time, and who knows, her company might want to think about expanding their own business overseas. What a perfect oppo
rtunity.”

Brian grabbed his beer and downed it all, ignoring the way his hands shook. This was surreal. Diane was not going to leave her job, her company, and her life for him. He knew that. Tim knew that. It wasn’t even a
question.

“And if I say no?” He shouldn’t have said that. He should have asked for a couple of days to think about it, to see if he could figure out a way to make
it work.

Esther laughed, William smiled, and Tim shook
his head.

“You can’t,” Wil
liam said.

Of course he couldn’t. He had a family to think about. He had a career to
consider.

He could say no. There were plenty of other companies out there; he’d have a job in no time. Then he could do what he wanted to do the most—be at home with h
is family.

Standing up for himself wasn’t in his nature. He was a behind-the-scenes kind of guy. He preferred it that way. Which was why he should thank them for this opportunity and head home to
his wife.

Brian pushed back his chair and stood. He fingered his wedding ring, spinning it around his finger, and thought about the vows they’d made to each other outside of their ceremony all those years ago. Vows to never hinder each other’s dreams, to always be there for support and encouragement. Brian didn’t mind the thirty weeks each year that he traveled. Every time another project popped up on his task list, an expansion or an issue that required him to be hands-on, he got excited. The travel thrilled him. The jet lag never bothered him. The time away from home didn’t concern him, because he knew Diane had his back. It was one of the strengths of their marriage. It was also one of the many reasons they’d agreed to wait ten years before they had
children.

But times had changed. Now she was pregnant and he would need to be home more often. He took a deep breath. Family came firs
t. Always.

“I can and I will. And if it’s not acceptable to you, the
n I quit.”

He turned and walked away. He heard William call him back but it didn’t matter. With each step he took, Brian knew he was taking a step away fro
m his job.

He might need to consider being a stay-at-home dad. God knew they didn’t need his income. They could do fine on just
Diane’s.

He reached for the doorknob, his fingers tightening around it, and just as he was about to turn, a hand landed on his
shoulder.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

B
rian turned to find Esther b
ehind him.

“Don’t leave, please. That didn’t happen the way we’d thought it would. Come back to the table and let us
explain.”

Brian searched her eyes, surprised that she’d be the one to come and stop him. If anything, he would have expected Tim to be the one to talk him down from t
he ledge.

His body hummed with tension. He couldn’t believe he’d just offered to quit. What was he thinking? He’d never quit a job like that. Ever. The process of leaving one job for another had always been well thought out and
planned.

Back at the table, Tim stood as if waiting for him to return on his own accord, while William sat back in his chair with a shocked expression in
his eyes.

“Just hear us out,”
Tim asked.

Brian sat down in the chair he had just left, leaned back, an
d waited.

“We don’t want you to quit. What we want is to give you a promotion,”
Tim began.

Brian cocked his head. Did he hear him right? “A pr
omotion?”

“President of international operations and communication.” A slow smile spread across Ti
m’s face.

Brian coughed. “Pr
esident?”

William cleared his throat. “I’m very serious about trusting only you for this position. Please don’t make me bring someone in with less
talent.”

He was speechless. This wasn’t what he expected to hear. President? He never imagined he’d ever reach a position so high. He thought director of technology was as far as he could go. President. Him. How could he pass this up? How could h
e say no?

“I don’t know what
to say.”

“Don’t say anything. Not tonight. I know it’s asking a lot, and that it might not be the right timing, but talk to your wife and let us know.” William pushed his chair back a
nd stood.

“I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but on this I agree.” Esther stood as well, placing her hand on his shoulder and giving it a slight
squeeze.

Brian sat there speechless, the wind knocked out of him as if he’d been sucker
punched.

“I should have warned you.” Tim flagged down a server and ordered two mo
re beers.

Brian laughed, a sudden sound that came from deep in his chest. Yeah, he should have been warned, but would it have made a difference? He still couldn’t take the job. He could never ask Diane to give up the life she’d worked so
hard for.

“You know I can’t take it.” Defeat filled him at the thought. It was harder than expected to accept this new reality. The perfect job for him was within arm’s reach and he had to tur
n it down.

“See, that’s what I don’t get. You’re not even giving it a chance. Diane might surprise you,”
Tim said.

Brian shook
his head.

Tim shrugged. “Okay, okay, you know your wife better than anyone else. But I still think you deserve to give yourself the chance. It’s not like you need to stay there year-round. You can come back every month if you need to. We can make
it work.”

The server arrived and set the beers down in fron
t of them.

“William wants to make it work.” Tim raised his mug and waited for Brian to do
the same.

Brian hesitated and he didn’t know why. Knowing Tim supported him, that he thought it possible, meant something to him. But all he could think about was his wife and that baby he couldn’t wait to meet. His entire life had changed the moment he found out Diane was pregnant. His priorities had been forever altered in that on
e instant.

“Would you leave your wife and kids and be content seeing them a few days each month?” Brian already knew how Tim woul
d respond.

Tim lowered his glass and rubbed his face. “We lead different lives, you and I. This has been your goal for so long. It’s not mine. I’m content being home and seeing my kids for an hour or so a night before they go to bed. Quality versus quantity. And let’s be honest—a newborn really doesn’t need the father. Hire some help for Diane, get a nanny to help with the diaper changes and night feedings. Are you honestly going to give up your dream job
for that?”

Brian shrugged. “This caught me of
f guard.”

“I know. William didn’t expect you to react this way, obviously. He’s been planning this for a wh
ile now.”

Brian dropped his head back and groaned. “You couldn’t have given me a hint or so
mething?”

Tim shook his head. “I was under orders to kee
p quiet.”

Brian took a long drink of his beer and enjoyed the rush of liquid as it trailed down his throat. He glanced at his watch and winced. He needed to get home. Diane had an ultrasound today and he had wanted to have dinner started before she arrived. That wasn’t going to happen now. Might as well just
order in.

“Let me think about it.” He got to
his feet.

Tim did the same. “Do more than just think about it. Talk wit
h Diane.”

Brian nodded in agreement. Sure, he’d mention it to her. But hell would freeze over before she left her job just so he could take this adv
ancement.

It wasn’t until he was walking toward the train station that he realized he’d gone from knowing he wouldn’t take the job to hoping Diane would give him the okay
to do so.

B
rian entered the kitchen through the garage door and dropped the bags in his hand on the
counter.

“Sorry I’m late,” he called out. He’d texted Diane earlier, only to find out she was already home. When he asked what she was in the mood for she responded with one word: Chinese. It surprised him, especially after last week, when her feet, fingers, and legs started to swell right after eating it. She swore she wouldn’t eat Chine
se again.

“Are you hungry?” he called out. When there was no response, he went to chec
k on her.

Diane sat on the couch, her feet propped up on the coffee table, with a box of Kleenex to the side. When she looked up at him, her red eyes were rimmed with unsh
ed tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He sat down beside her and wrapped her in his arms. She laid her head on his chest and gave a
deep sigh.

Diane wasn’t one to cry. He could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen tears fall, and when she did, she made sure she was alwa
ys alone.

She’d had her appointment today, but she hadn’t said anything about it. Did somethi
ng happen?

He gently rubbed her arms, hoping to calm her, unsure of what to do or how to do it. He tried to convince himself not to worry, that maybe she’d read a sad book or something. But when she snuggled into him, he knew it had to be something else. Something beyond pregnancy
hormones.

“Are you okay? Is the baby okay?” He pulled back slightly to watch her face. She wouldn’t raise her eyes. “What’
s wrong?”

He’d read stories online about complications during pregnancy, and years ago one of their friends had lost their child weeks before she was due to give birth. Every time the thought would try to creep in that something could go wrong, he’d quash it down. It wasn’t possible. Not to them. Not to their child. Something like a fist formed in his chest, blocking his windpipe. No, damn it, not to their child. Not to
his wife.

“Diane, speak to me.” His hold on her t
ightened.

“Remember how we thought the swelling was from the Chinese last week? We were wrong.” Her voice
was dull.

Brian laid his hand over her protruding stomach and was relieved to feel a t
iny kick.

“What is
it then?”

“Preec
lampsia.”

From the flatness of her tone, to the way her face blanched, Brian took it to mean something as bad as death. Was she dying? Was their ba
by dying?

“What
is that?”

She twisted out of his embrace and tucked her legs beneath her. Brian let her withdraw, more familiar with this side of his wife than the cr
ying one.

“It means my body is rebelling. My placenta isn’t working properly and it could affect the baby. My blood pressure is too high and I’ve been placed on bed rest. Bed rest! Brian, I can’t do that. So what if there’s iron in my urine. So what if my blood pressure is too high. Do they honestly think it’s going to go down if I stay in bed
all day?”

“So you’re okay then? The baby is okay too?” Brian’s head dropped back and he closed his eyes in relief. He had thought they were dying, for Pete’s sake. Bed rest? High blood pressure? That
was all?

“Yes, I’m okay. The baby is okay. Well…everything is fine for now. This is a precaution. An unnecessary one, if you ask me. I don’t do bed rest, Brian; you know that. I tried explaining it to him, but he threatened to put me in the hospital otherwise.” She rolled
her eyes.

Brian wanted to shake her. This was their baby they were talking about. She should want to do everything she could to ensure their child was okay. So what if she had to spend a few weeks in bed. It might actually do her
some good.

“I’m sure you don’t have to actually be in bed. Just relaxing
.
Right?”

When she didn’t respond, he opened his eyes to catch her glari
ng at him.

“What?”

“This isn’t a good time for me. We just landed a contract I’ve been working on for months, Walter wants to go on vacation before I need time off, and I haven’t found someone to fill in for me while I’m out. I’m not ready for this.
Not yet.”

Brian
snorted.

“Don’t be rude.” Diane’s lips pinched
together.

She was right. He was being rude. But then again, s
o was she.

“You’ll never be ready for this. This”—he rubbed her belly—“will never come at a time that works for you, because your life revolves around work. And that’s okay. It’s who you are. But adjustments have to be made on both sides. Now that we’re going to have a baby, we need to realize we’re not just living for ourselves anymore.” The realization hurt as it hit him. What he wanted, what he longed for, dreamed for, didn’t matter anymore. Sure, for one brief moment he thought he could make things work—his home life and work life. But not the way he wanted. Not with him being halfway across
the world.

“I’m trying, Brian. I re
ally am.”

He reached for her hand and held it, his thumb lazily stroking
her skin.

She was trying. He was being too hard on her and it wasn’t fair. He noticed a bunch of pamphlets on the coffee table. He picked one up and turned the pages. There was lots of information on preeclampsia and how to handle the stress of
bed rest.

“What’s this?” He held out a pamphlet with the image of a baby with the title “Rebo
rn” on it.

Diane reached for the paper and shook her head. “Just something Walter gave to m
e today.”

“But what is it?” He vaguely recalled something about these dolls from reading it somewhere, or maybe it was on a television show. Dolls that looked
lifelike.

“Reborn dolls. They’re quite popular for those who collect dolls a
nd such.”

“But you don’t.” Diane with a doll? What was Walter
thinking?

She rolled her eyes. “Of course I don’t. This is a personal friend of Walter’s. She has a unique way of making these dolls and works
with different medical practices in the city whose patients suffer miscarriages or sti
llbirths.”

“And he gave this to you why?” He went to grab the pamphlet out of her hand, but she caught his movement at the last second and held it out of
his reach.

“She can create a doll from one of the 3-D ultrasounds I’ve had.” Diane stared off into the distance as a soft smile appeared on her face. “I thought it was cute. The thought of holding our baby, even before he or she is born…I kind of like t
he idea.”

“Seriously, Diane? That’s the craziest thing I’ve heard.” He shook his head in
disgust.

She shrugged. “You’re probably right. It seemed neat at the time, but…it is weird,
isn’t it?”

“Just a bit. What was Walter thinking? No”—he held up his hand—“don’t answer that. The less I know about Walter’s thought process the better.
Hungry?”

“Starving.” Her lips quirked as she rubbed h
er belly.

“Well, then, how about I take care of that for you.” He pushed himself up from the couch, leaned down, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I’ll do everything I can to make sure you and our baby are pr
otected.”