about it the surer she became. Why not get married? Neither of them had looked forward to a regular marriage someday; this wouldn’t get in the way of a future relationship.
She realized, too, that matrimony seemed so much safer without the complication of romantic love. So much less disturbing.
The idea of having a child already disturbed her enough—more than she could ever acknowledge out loud. It scared her. The fear wasn’t rational. It was deep and instinctual. Sometimes she thought she’d simply seen too much at work and in her own family not to be aware of the risks of losing people. Of the potential for devastating pain. Despair that took away your ability to get through the day. Your will to live.
How many times had she had to tell people their child or spouse had died? Enough to know she didn’t want to be on the other end of that conversation.
And it never got any easier. Sometimes it even got harder—when one of her patients somehow got under her skin. Like last July.
And now, because of that day, she would be a parent after all. She would accept the risks because abortion and adoption were even less acceptable to her. And she might marry Kyle, too—if she could talk him into it.
“All right,” Kyle finally said. “Let’s sleep on it. Maybe you’ll come to your senses by morning.”
“Maybe not,” she said.
A minute later he pulled up outside their destination, a small, avant-garde theater in southeast Portland, and cut the engine. “This place is creepy looking,” he said, grinning. “Like it might not be good for a pregnant lady.”
“Oh, please. Don’t start coddling me.” She didn’t want him to treat her any differently because of her breakdown tonight. It had only been temporary. She was still a strong person. She didn’t need to be sheltered from every little thing.
“Right,” he said, and exited his blue Toyota.
But he circled the vehicle and helped her out. And all the way into the theater his hand rested between her shoulder blades. It could have been a simple, friendly, gentlemanly gesture. But it felt like more. It felt both protective and possessive.
They ran into Barbara Purcell in the lobby.
She stared at them for a long moment. “You two okay?”
“Sure,” Kyle said. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Something’s going on. Want to let me in on it?”
Melissa forced a smile. Oh, Barbara. You’d be stunned if we did. I’m still stunned. “It’s no big deal. We’ll tell you about it later, okay?”
As soon as we figure out what to do. What to say. Whether we’re going to be husband and wife.
And we’ve got to make the decision soon. Before we talk to my father on Sunday.
Kyle placed that possessive hand on her back again as the three of them went to find their seats. She was pretty sure Barbara noticed, though the other woman made no comment.
WHAT WAS WRONG WITH HIM? He couldn’t keep his hands off her, Kyle reflected as he pulled out of the theater parking lot after the performance. He told himself to cool it. He didn’t want them to do anything physical again. Yet tonight his body had ignored his brain’s commands. He’d even kissed her.
Beside him Melissa stared thoughtfully out the window.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, wanting distraction from his own ruminations.
“Barbara. I didn’t realize we were so obvious. No one noticed anything before.”
“Last summer, you mean.” No one had noticed anything different between them after they’d made love.
She nodded.
So now they were no longer able to act normal together—the way they had for months.
They were having a baby. Unlike the single night they’d shared, this wasn’t a discrete event that could ever be finished, ever be ignored. The shape of Melissa’s body would soon reveal what was going on inside her. In the spring she would give birth. And their child would remain in their lives.
The knowledge had to affect their behavior. If Barbara had perceived a change, others might, too.
“Maybe my eyes were red,” she said. “Maybe that’s what caught Barbara’s attention. She could tell I’d been crying.”
“I don’t think so,” Kyle said. “Your eyes looked fine…You still think we should get hitched?”
She nodded. “You?”
“Nothing’s changed in the past hour or two. I still can’t see it.”
“Not to mention you’re a confirmed bachelor.”
“Not to mention that.”
He couldn’t believe Melissa had come up with the idea. She’d always been even more terrified of marriage and having a family than he was.
Even more self-protective.
And he didn’t blame her. Who wouldn’t be after what she’d gone through? The accident, losing her mother and brother, surviving when they hadn’t. And afterward her father’s grief, his longing to kill himself. Kyle didn’t know how Melissa had found out about it—he hadn’t had the heart to ask—but he’d often thought about what that knowledge would do to a kid.
His own experience with suicide made it easy for him to imagine.
And now Melissa worked in an E.R. Not a place to let her forget about human tragedy—or make her give up her emotional defenses.
Kyle frowned as he stared at the road in front of them. Perhaps her idea wasn’t so surprising after all, he told himself.
A marriage of convenience, she’d called it. Not a regular one. A much less messy kind of partnership. No unruly emotions, no romantic love to complicate the arrangement.
Oh, Mel. Only you.
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