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“Either. But Shelby thinks it’s time to talk to a fertility specialist and consider IVF. International adoption is also a possibility.” Both options are inordinately expensive, but I won’t moan about that, or she’ll offer money she needs for retirement.
“You and Shelby talk about this a lot, don’t you?”
“Of course, we do. We love you, and this is important to you.”
“Yes, but it’s…” Personal is what I want to blurt out. “I promise if I have any news, you’ll be the first to know. But even then, the miscarriage rate for women my age is high.” And sometimes you don’t even get past the forty-eight-hour mark.
“And you live in that backward state. You’d better not tell anyone if you get pregnant. You don’t want some nosy body questioning if as a single woman you had an abortion. I swear, I don’t know how you live there.”
She’s not wrong. And given my career, I cakewalk with a horde of nosy bodies every single day. I can’t imagine anyone would actually try to turn me in for an investigation, but you never know. Religion and self-righteousness can do funny things to a person. Not to mention a ten-thousand-dollar bonus.
Headlights flash in my driveway. Ian.
“You still there?” Aunt Nora asks.
“Yeah. I need to run.”
“He’s there, isn’t he?” Somehow, her smile carries through the line.
“I love you, and I’ll call tomorrow to wish you both a Merry Christmas.”
“Video.”
“Yes, video. Love you.”
By the time I open the front door, Ian stands behind his car with an overnight bag over one shoulder and a shopping bag.
“You need to wrap presents?” I call out from the stoop.
“What do you take me for? Someone who buys unwrapped presents?” He mock shudders, and I smile but pull the shawl around me more tightly.
“Did you get dinner?”
“Yeah, I did. Sorry I’m so late. I needed to swing by the hospital to check on someone who is having some post-surgical complications.”
“I thought you had off. Didn’t you say today officially counts as vacation?”
“It’s Christmas. Super light staff.” His trunk closes, and a beep sounds.
“Did you get all your shopping done?”
“Yeah. Remind me to not wait to buy all the gifts on Christmas Eve next year.”
“You didn’t.” I shake my head at him in disbelief. He has a large family.
“It used to not be a problem, but I didn’t have somewhere I wanted to be before.”
He saunters up the steps in jeans, brown dress shoes, and a light crewneck sweater. His tousled hair is a sexy mess. Several days’ worth of growth along his jawline gives him the beginnings of a short beard. Ian Duke is one handsome man. My stomach flutters and pulse quickens.He’s here. Finally.
As he approaches, I notice the skin below his golden-brown eyes seems slightly sunken and discolored.
“Are you tired?”
“Eh, I’m fine.” He dips his head and brushes his lips across mine, then steps past me into my home.
“I have some lasagna I can heat for you. I also have a Christmas roll I made. But if we don’t cut into it, I can bring it to your parents’ in the morning.”
“Why are we doing brunch? Everyone’s going to get in after lunch. We should just go over for dinner.”
