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That dampened his enthusiasm somewhat, because he would enjoy ribbing Todd about getting a middle-of-the-night call from one of his regular lays. Where women were concerned Todd was a cocksure bastard.
He pulled on a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, pushed his feet into a pair of sandals, and let himself out without waking Todd. He hurdled the foul-smelling moat surrounding the apartment building and followed the now-familiar and well-worn path to the girls’ building. He took the stairs two at a time, arriving at their door slightly out of breath. Mary Catherine opened the door before he could even knock.
“I was watching for you through the window.”
He stepped inside, trying not to give away how crestfallen he was by her appearance.
She didn’t even resemble the stunner she was when she peeled away the vestiges of her nun’s habit and stood in the spotlight gloriously naked, or even when she lay spread-eagled on the roof basting in suntan oil.
Her face was free of stage makeup. Her eyes and nose were red, as though she’d been crying. Her long, curly hair had been gathered into a scraggly ponytail. Most disappointing of all, she wasn’t dressed for seduction. She was wearing an unflattering, oversized Dolphins jersey and a baggy pair of plaid boxer shorts.
“I got you up, didn’t I?”
“I was writing,” he lied.
“Your lights were out.”
“I was plotting inside my head.”
“Oh.” She twisted the hem of the jersey in her fist. “I hate to ask you to do this, Roark, but…”
“Is something wrong?”
“I miscarried tonight.”
He gaped stupidly and speechlessly.
“A baby.” She flipped out her hand. “Well, I guess it wasn’t really a baby yet, just, you know… Anyway, I need some things, and I’m not feeling too good, so I wondered if you’d run down to the twenty-four-hour market for me.”
He swallowed what felt like a bowling ball, then reflexively wet his lips. “Uh, sure. Be glad to.”
“I’d really appreciate it.”
“No problem, but are you okay? Should you call a doctor or something? Want me to take you to the hospital? Have, uh, things checked out?”
“No, I’m okay.” Taking a deep but shaky breath, she said, “This isn’t the first time.”
He dragged his hand down over his mouth and chin. “You didn’t do anything crazy, did you? You didn’t cause it? On purpose, I mean.”
She shook her head and smiled weakly. “No. Nothing that dramatic. It just happened, Roark. An accident of nature. The first time, yeah, I went to a clinic and had it sucked out. But this time it came out on its own. I started feeling bad at work. Cramps, you know.”
He nodded sympathetically, although she could have been talking about ice sculpting, for all he knew about it. In fact he probably knew more about ice sculpting.
“I was invited out with the other girls to a private party. But it had all the makings of an all-nighter, so I begged off, came home, went straight to bed. Woke up about an hour ago in a… a mess.” She raised her shoulders. “No more baby.”
He saw tears shining in her eyes, but she quickly turned away and reached for a small slip of paper and several folded bills. “I made a detailed list. Name brands and sizes. Figured you wouldn’t know what to get if I didn’t.”
“You’re right about that,” he said, trying to sound goofily cheerful and failing miserably.
“This should cover it.”
He took the list and money from her. “Anything else?”
“I think it’s all on there. I’ll leave the door unlocked so you can just come in when you get back.” He nodded and turned to go, but she touched his arm and brought him back around. “Thanks, Roark. Really. Thanks.”
He patted the small hand resting on his arm. “Go lie down. I’ll be back soon as I can.”
* * *
