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The last thing in the world he wanted was a baby. He had his own reasons. And, like Susan’s, they came from examples set by his parents. To Michael, having a child meant his life was over.
He’d felt that even before the meeting with Coppel.
“Have you talked to anyone else about this?”
“Just Seth.”
“And?”
She was silent. Her eyes fell for a moment and then returned to his. “Seth’s hardly one to understand.”
Based on her brother’s bachelor life-style, he supposed not. But Seth had always championed his big sister, had walked in her footsteps as long as Michael had known him. Michael had even begun to wonder if maybe Seth was still alone, married to his career, because he was following Susan’s example.
“He thinks you’re crazy?”
Susan shrugged, shocking Michael when her eyes filled with tears. “He doesn’t think I’m mother material.”
Seth’s lack of confidence had shaken her. “He’s nuts.” Michael heard the words before he’d even realized he’d had the thought.
“Really?” Her beautiful eyes glowed with uncertainty in the dusky room.
“Just look at Seth if you need evidence,” Michael said. “You practically raised him.” Which was one of the reasons Michael had thought she’d never want children. With three younger brothers, she’d had more than her share of babysitting and housework and driving her brothers to practices and games. Her mother had needed her at home, so her high-school years had been rife with missed opportunities.
Somehow she was back in his arms and Michael soaked up her warmth, her soft feminine scent. The evening washed over him—the good and the bad. Was her need to have this child so great that she’d be willing to give up her job? Move to Chicago?
The thought wasn’t as displeasing as it might have been. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d wished he’d never had to divorce her in the first place. The number of sleepless nights he’d spent lying beside her, trying to convince himself that a long-distance relationship could work. Instead, he’d been tortured with visions of needing his wife at some important function and her not being there, or vice versa. He’d imagined them wearing themselves out trying to be together every weekend out of obligation to each other. And he’d thought of what marriage meant, of the expectations it brought, of two people being one unit—and just couldn’t picture the link between him and Susan stretched across two states. Visions haunted him of the damage they’d eventually do to each other by trying to hang on when they kept disappointing each other, when expectations couldn’t possibly be met. He’d tried to imagine himself being a good husband to Susan from Chicago and knew that he’d had no choice but to let her go. He’d finally had to face the fact that they couldn’t possibly be true to themselves, to their own needs and desires, and to each other, as well. There wasn’t room in either of their lives for anyone else’s expectations.
But that was before he’d known she wanted to have a baby.
“You want us to get married again,” he summed up.
She didn’t say anything right away. “Nothing’s changed for us, has it Michael?” she finally asked, frowning.
“How do you mean?”
“Our reason for divorcing. Your career needing you one place, mine needing me another.”
So, she wasn’t planning to move to Chicago? “Not for me, it hasn’t.”
“Then why would we get married again?”
“So you can have your baby.”
“This is almost the new millennium, Michael.” Her voice was a little arrogant as she settled back against him. Hard. “You don’t have to be married to have a baby.”
He was apparently too damn tired to think straight. “Do you mind telling me then, what exactly you do want from me?”
“Your sperm.” Susan grinned up at him. And he saw in her eyes, in the cocky tilt to her mouth, the woman he’d fallen in love with so many years before. The one who always made everything sound so easy.
ALMOST FOUR DAYS LATER, Susan couldn’t believe how relieved she was to have asked the question. She knew there was a good chance Michael was going to say no. But she couldn’t ignore the fact that he hadn’t already done so. And couldn’t help but hope that he wouldn’t.
She’d spent the rest of the weekend in Chicago, and it had been just like old times. He’d taken both days off in deference to her birthday and they’d played to their hearts’ content. In bed and out of it
They’d done the city, gone to the zoo, walked along the skydeck of the Sears Tower, taken a walking tour through downtown Chicago to view the skyscrapers. They’d been sidetracked before they’d actually seen many skyscrapers, however. The cold and their hunger had driven them inside. After an hour and a half spent stuffing themselves at Michael’s favorite restaurant down by the lake, Michael had driven her through the Lake Shore Drive Apartments—glass houses he called them—and out to the Widow Clarke House, the oldest survi
ving building in Chicago.
And not once, throughout the entire weekend, did they mention Susan’s baby—or anything else remotely serious.
