and the lone visitor chair.
“I guess decorating isn’t in the budget,” she said.
“We’re still settling. Currently, it’s just Dakota and me. We had more people working in the summer, but they were mostly up at the camp. I wanted room to expand.”
“Apparently. It’s nice. I would have expected a few football posters on the wall.”
“They’re not unpacked yet.”
“When you do get them out, they’ll add plenty of color.”
He motioned to a square folding table in the corner.
Once they were seated on the plain chairs, she withdrew a file folder from her bag and set it on the table. She was aware of him sitting close to her but was willing to pretend she wasn’t. One crisis at a time, she told herself.
“In case you haven’t heard,” she began, “Fool’s Gold is the festival capital of California. We have a major event every single month. By major I mean we draw in over five thousand people and we fill at least fifty percent of the hotel rooms. The result is a nice influx of cash for our city.”
She paused. “Do you want this level of detail?”
“Sure. Information is never bad.”
She thought about some of the very tedious city council meetings she’d sat through—especially the budget ones—and knew he was wrong. But she kept that thought to herself.
“Currently tourism is our largest source of income and employment. We’re working to change that. In addition to the existing hospital, we’ll soon have a new facility that will include a trauma center. We also have the university campus. Those three sectors provide a lot of employment, but in this town, service jobs rule. One of the long-term goals of the city is to bring in more high-paying manufacturing jobs, so we’re not constantly exchanging the same tired dollar, week after week. But until that happens, the festivals bring us both jobs and money.”
She opened the folder she’d brought. “In addition to the major festivals, we have smaller events that draw a regional crowd. No ‘heads in beds,’ as the chamber of commerce likes to say. As in no one spends the night. That’s less money for the town, but also less work.”
Raoul took the list of festivals and scanned them. She’d marked the ones that would get the most family interest.
“If we can come up with a good angle, say a famous football player headlines the right event, we can draw some media attention,” she said. “I’m guessing we can get TV here based on your celebrity, but it would be nice if we could find a good tie-in and maybe get on one of the morning shows.”
“Bringing money to the town and donations and sponsorship to the camp?” he asked.
“Exactly.”
This was good. Focusing on work helped her stay calm. Because if she thought about that morning…
Without warning, the trembling began again. Her chest got tight and she had to consciously deepen her breathing.
Raoul glanced at her over the papers. “You okay?”
She nodded because speaking seemed iffy at best.
He dropped the sheets. “What’s going on?”
“Could I have some water?” she managed.
He stood and crossed to a small refrigerator. After collecting a bottle, he returned to the table and handed it to her.
“Thanks.”
“What’s going on?” he asked again as he settled across from her. He took her free hand in his and lightly pressed his fingers to the inside of her wrist.
The contact was light, yet warm. She felt something. A little tingly sensation. Right. Because she had time for that now.
“Your pulse is way too fast,” he announced. “You’re upset about something.”
The tingling disappeared. She snatched back her hand and opened the water.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing.”
He didn’t look convinced. “Is it about the embryos?”
She closed her eyes and nodded. “I went to see them this morning.”
“How?”
“I drove to the lab and asked if I could see them.” She opened her eyes and sighed. “They said no.”
“Did that surprise you?”
“A little. I knew they were small but I thought maybe I could peek at them through a microscope or something.” She shifted in her seat, trying not to remember the incredulous look the lab guy had given her. As if she were an idiot.
“Apparently that’s not possible without thawing them. And if they’re thawed without being implanted, they die.” She drew in a breath. “When I explained why I wanted to see them, he gave me a bunch of info on IVF.”
“You told him about your friend?”
“Uh-huh. Then I read the material.” She pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to ward off another wave of nausea. “Apparently the body has to be prepared.” She set the bottle on the table and used her fingers to indicate air quotes. “Which takes a whole lot more than a stern talking-to. An assortment of hormones are sent into my body. After that, there’s the implantation procedure.” She swallowed. “I won’t get into detail.”
“I appreciate that.”
She managed a slight smile. “Then you wait. Or I wait. In two weeks, I take a pregnancy test. With luck, there are babies.”
She felt the panic surging inside of her again. “I don’t understand. Why would she trust me with her children? Do you know that Jake can purr? He gets all fluffy and relaxed and purrs.”
“Jake’s a cat?” Raoul asked cautiously.
“Yes. I’ve had him over two months. He never purred for me. He barely even looked at me. Then he goes to Jo’s and purrs like his life depended on it. Which maybe to him it did.”
She shook her head. “I don’t get it. Crystal wanted those kids more than anything. After her husband was deployed to Iraq, she talked about getting pregnant when he got home. I went shopping with her and we looked at nursery furniture. She was so excited. After Keith died, she was still determined to be a mother. But that didn’t happen. Now I’m supposed to raise her children? And the whole in vitro thing. It’s not a hundred percent. Some or all of the embryos might not take. Which is a polite way of saying they’ll die. What if that’s my fault? What if there’s something wrong with me? What if they’re the same as Jake and they just plain don’t like me enough to hang on?”
She could feel herself slipping past panic and into full-on terror. She glanced at Raoul to see if he’d completely freaked out, only to find him staring at her. Intense staring, she thought, feeling a little awkward and exposed.
“TMI?”
