If they’d had plans for that night, they didn’t attend to them. There was no dinner out on the town, no Broadway show nor walk through Time Square, but neither one seemed to mind. Instead, their night was filled with one another. Each one gave and took. Together they reunited as a couple and soul mates. They made love and talked about their uncertainties and discoveries. Claire shared her revelation about being alone, and Tony recognized his distress of being without her. Even after so many years, they shared and laughed, talked and cried, and when they were done, they made love some more, until sleep overtook them.
It wasn’t until the next morning that either one of them remembered the doctor’s recommendation for alternative protection. They reasoned that it was only one night, and the doctors had warned that with Tony’s age it might not happen the natural way. So what were the chances?
The water lapped over Claire’s body as she floated below the Iowa stars, lost in the memories of that night. It wasn’t only their journey that they continued that night; they’d also created the tiny being inside of her. With Claire’s eyes closed to the twinkling stars, she imagined her husband’s touch and the aroma of chlorine gave way to the intoxicating scent of cologne.
Her body electrified, as it only did in his presence. It was a connection they’d had for as long as she could remember. Words or touch weren’t necessary. When they were near one another, the molecules in the air stirred and energy transferred. The scientific result of thermodynamics was heat. Their result was no different. Despite the tepid water, Claire’s skin suddenly warmed. She opened her eyes to the sight of her husband: his jacket slung over his shoulder and linen shirt glowing with the colors of the pool’s lights. It wasn’t his Armani slacks or his shiny black loafers that caught her attention. It was the grin that tightened her stomach as his chocolate eyes sparkled.
“Good evening, Claire.” His baritone voice resonated through the country night.
TIME STOOD STILL as Tony watched his wife, first from the shadows and then from the deck of the pool. Although he had plenty to say, he hadn’t spoken a word; instead, he stood and observed as Claire floated near the surface of the colorful water. It was the whole picture that had him mesmerized: the warm, starry night, the way her hair floated around her beautiful face, her peaceful expression, and even the smile that graced her lips—on and off—as if she were remembering something that made her happy. She looked too beautiful to disturb. As the minutes passed and the water ebbed and flowed over her midsection, Tony began to think about their new baby.
He remembered the night, a few weeks ago, when he came home from work and discovered Claire in their suite:
It wasn’t like her to be away from Nichol, yet she was, all alone and lost in her thoughts as she stood at the railing of their balcony. His gaze went the direction of her stare, out toward their backyard, where he saw Nichol with Shannon on the play set. It wasn’t until he fully stepped beyond the glass doors that Claire turned. When she did, he saw her tearstained cheeks and his heart crumbled.
“Claire.” His voice quivered with uncertainty as he reached for her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head and melted against his chest. Tony’s mind swirled with possibilities, each one worse than the one before.
After a moment, he lifted her chin and stared deeply into her moist eyes. Even with the tears, he knew he could get lost in her emerald gaze. “Whatever it is,” he offered reassuringly, “we’ll fix it.”
Her body tensed. “Tony, you can’t fix it. I don’t want you to fix it.”
“What do you want? What happened?”
She took a deep breath. “Remember we promised the doctors that we wouldn’t try to get pregnant until this month?”
He nodded, wondering if maybe she’d changed her mind. If she had, he understood. He’d meant what he’d said about adopting. Hell, maybe they could hire a surrogate? He’d never thought of that before, but now that he had, he liked the idea. It was better than risking Claire’s health. Tony thought he’d read somewhere where they can use Claire’s egg and his sperm. Yes, that would be best. As the smile came to his lips, with his new idea, Claire’s ramblings began to register.
“…I know we didn’t mean to. I’m not positive it was that night in New York. I mean condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective. I just don’t know what they’ll say.”
The words weren’t making sense. “What who will say? It’s all right if you don’t want to try this month. Maybe it would be better if we waited—”
She took a step back as her eyes grew wide. “Tony, you’re not listening to me.”
“I’m trying. You said something about New York and condoms.” A devilish grin crept onto his lips. “I don’t believe we remembered to use…”
It wasn’t the same as when she told him she was pregnant with Nichol. That was sheer disbelief. For seconds—that seemed like days—he couldn’t wrap his mind around her words. This was different: the signals were mixed. He remembered that night in New York, their preoccupation with one another. Using protection was the furthest thing from their mind. They’d discussed another child at length. If she were pregnant, wouldn’t she be happy? Why was she crying?
Tony didn’t respond appropriately the last time she informed him of her pregnancy. He had no intentions of screwing up the moment again. Summoning his biggest smile and wrapping Claire in his arms, he lifted her off the ground. “Really?” he asked, his dark eyes glistening with excitement. “Already? You’re pregnant?”