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He ended the call and looked at the stack of papers on his desk. He had made the right decision to sever their relationship. But for a moment, he enjoyed hearing her voice.
It had been a pleasure dating Cath. He missed the easy way they could talk about everything, or remain silent for long stretches without any awkwardness. He liked the fact she enjoyed similar activities. The way she jumped on and off the cable car like a native. Her love of crab cocktails at the Wharf. Her delight in watching kites flying at the marina.
He rose and paced to his window. Glancing out on Montgomery Street, he remembered the Sunday afternoon they’d walked along the deserted thoroughfare peeking into some of the windows of the closed shops and businesses. They had made up stories about who owned them, the kind of businesses they were and the dreams of the future the owners were likely to have. Then they’d hiked to the wharf to have crab cocktails and sourdough bread for lunch. That had been two days prior to the discovery that she worked for Signals, Inc.
His own code of ethics had demanded he stop seeing her. For once he wished he wasn’t so good about following his own rules.
He walked to his office door and opened it. Ellie was working diligently on her computer.
“Order some flowers for Cath Norris,” he said. “Have them delivered today.”
Ellie looked up in surprise.
“Sure thing. Is she worse?”
“No, but she is going to stay home a few days to get over the flu.”
“What shall I put on the card?” Ellie asked.
“Best wishes from your friends at Signals, Inc. ,”
Trace said. He didn’t want to give rise to speculation with the rest of the staff. But he wanted some flowers to brighten her apartment.
He returned to his desk better able to focus on the work. But always in the back of his mind was the image of Cath he had seen last night in her warm pink fleece robe and fluffy slippers.
He felt a tightening in his stomach any time he thought about her. Why wasn’t she as easy to forget as other women he’d dated over the years? Was it only because they were forced into proximity from now on?
Or was there something particularly special about Cath Norris? He could almost feel her soft skin under his fingertips. Smell her special scent. Hear her laughter and see the sparkle in her eyes.
He’d need a cold shower if he didn’t stop daydreaming about her. Turning, he plunged back into work finding relief in the myriad of facts to be absorbed.
Cath spent the next few days lounging around her apartment, sleeping as much as she could. She’d been delighted with the bouquet of flowers from the office the day she’d learned her news. She took them as a positive omen. A celebration—though only she knew why. The lavish arrangement of colorful fall flowers with chrysanthemums and other blossoms raised her spirits whenever she looked at it.
When not resting, she went on the Internet to search sites about pregnancy and newborns. She studied housing listings for Brussels. She had so much to think about. First to make it through the pregnancy. She’d follow the doctor’s orders to the letter. Any risk would be ruthlessly dealt with. She yearned for this baby with all in her.
She needed to find a flat in Brussels larger than originally planned. She’d have to furnish a room for a child. Perhaps she could hire a live-in nanny or au pair to help out with the baby once he or she was born. That would require an even larger place—especially if she wanted room for her family to stay when they came to visit.
Would it be a boy or girl? She had no preference. Daydreaming about either, she let her imagination soar. A tough little boy like Trace, charging ahead, learning things fast, making a difference. Breaking hearts.
Or a little girl. Would she have dark hair like her daddy? Sparkling eyes full of mischief?
Either would be loved to bits. She prayed it would be healthy—and that she could deliver her baby safely into the world.
She also had to decide when to tell people. Because of the high risk of miscarriage throughout the pregnancy she didn’t want to tell anybody until the doctor gave her some encouragement things would work out.
How cruel to be granted this precious wish and have it snatched away if she miscarried. Once again she searched the Internet for high-risk pregnancies and ways to get around the problems. There was no getting around the scarring; the rest she’d do her best to minimize.
She would tell her family at Thanksgiving. They’d all rejoice with her news. And be there if the unspeakable happened.
She knew the exact day they made love—it wasn’t everybody who could say exactly when a child was conceived. She was not quite two months along but after Christmas the first trimester would have passed.
If she were still pregnant, and had her doctor’s blessing, she’d tell friends then. She wanted everyone to know before she moved to Brussels. It was so much better to hear it in person rather than via e-mail or a letter.
Though she still had the problem of how to tell Trace. And when. She couldn’t imagine his reaction—she suspected he would not be happy. The last thing he wanted was to get tangled up with anybody. Dating was fine—even having a steady relationship for a few weeks fit his game plan.
She’d have to make sure he knew she expected nothing from him. Should she wait to tell until right before she left for Europe? Or maybe waiting until she was in Brussels would be safer.
Safer? What did she expect, he’d change his mind about her transfer?
