Becca's Baby

Phyllis Langford, it turned out, was interested in the psychology professorship. She called, sent her materials and, at the request of the Psychology Department, flew out the last week of May for an intensive set of interviews. She received a unanimous vote and was offered the position before she left town.

During his interview with her, Will found her to be not only a well-educated applicant worthy of hire, but a sensitive listener, as well. She seemed to hear things that weren’t actually expressed. Things people felt but didn’t say. He was sure she’d be a real asset to the university.

Without his even asking, she’d reassured him that Christine was fine—and greatly looking forward to living in Arizona.

She also explained her own reasons for wanting to make such a drastic move. Not only was it a step up for her professionally, as Todd’s position was more senior than the job Phyllis currently held, but she knew it was time to make a break from Boston—and the ex-husband she found difficult to let go of completely. She was looking to Shelter Valley for a fresh start. A new life.

Will figured she was looking in the right place.

The first Saturday in June, with the university between sessions, he and Becca went into Phoenix to pick out nursery furniture. The job was surprisingly easy as Becca knew exactly what she wanted and they both liked the same things. Even down to the rocker she chose for the nursery.

“We should have one for the family room, too,” Will said, testing the chair for himself. His feet on the footstool, his body cushioned by the soft leather, he could fall asleep in it—perfect, he decided, for when he was taking his middle-of-the-night sleepless-baby turns.

Becca gave him an odd look when he said something of the sort to her, and he realized that his thoughts had carried him someplace he hadn’t yet decided to be. Into the future. Still living with Becca.

Her eyes filling with tentative hope, she silently asked him if he’d made a decision, if he’d figured out whether he was in love with her, or if their life together was really just a sham.

He couldn’t give her an answer. An answer he needed just as badly as she did.

And still, in that silent communication they’d been sharing since they were banned from passing notes in junior high, she let him know that his time was running out. He’d better come up with something, or she was going to take his choices away from him.

It was the first time he realized that he wasn’t the only one who could end their marriage.

BECCA LAY uncharacteristically awake that night. She didn’t feel sick. Didn’t have any physical aches, no sharp pains—no numbness, either. Her stomach just felt odd. Like she had little champagne bubbles trapped there.

She’d been having this strange indigestion, or whatever it was, for most of the week.

Will, sleeping restlessly beside her, turned his head. She closed her eyes, hoping that if he awoke, he’d think she was asleep. She couldn’t face any intimate conversation just then—and intimate was all it could be, with the two of them lying side by side in the bed they’d shared for almost twenty years.

They hadn’t both been awake in that bed at the same time in months. Every night Will waited until she was asleep before climbing in beside her, and whoever woke first in the morning didn’t linger long enough for the other to wake up.

Hearing his deep, regular breathing, Becca relaxed, her eyes popping open again. Will was facing her, his strong features softened with sleep. She took advantage of the rare opportunity to study him, to look her fill, to stare avidly at the man she’d been in love with forever.

Will mumbled in his sleep. And moved. A leg. An arm. Once, just his hand along the mattress. But with every restless move, her body felt another jolt of heat. She wanted him so desperately. Needed to feel those hands on her body, wanting her.

Becca turned over, pulling the covers carefully over her shoulders, staving off the shivers that were coursing through her body. She wished she was wearing more than the thin silk sleeveless gown she’d pulled on in deference to the one-hundred-degree weather they’d been having.

And remembered how he used to tell her that no matter how many times he touched her breasts, their softness still amazed him.

Becca started to cry, slow tears that trailed quietly down her cheeks.

Back in those early days, in spite of their harried schedules, they’d had sex twice a day. So how was Will managing with nothing for more than four months? An image of Todd crept into her mind. He hadn’t needed his wife to find sexual satisfaction.

Becca was scared to death that Will might have found someone else, too. Especially after her talk with Martha, who’d had no idea that Todd had been fooling around.

Could Will be fooling around on her? Was that the real reason they hadn’t made love for so long?

Will moved again, resettled himself, and desire for her husband consumed Becca, in spite of her fears.

A sob escaped before she even knew it was coming. Throwing back the covers, she started to sit up, to escape the bed that was far too crowded.

“Becca?” Will’s hand shot out, grabbing her arm.

“You okay?” he asked sleepily. He might be only half-conscious, but his grip was strong.

“Fine,” she said quite normally, considering, and then ruined the effect with a big sniffle.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sitting up and switching on the bedside lamp in one movement. He turned her to face him. “Are you ill?”