THE HOMECOMING


I'm waiting outside the security area for Will; he'll have only his carry-on and briefcase. He hates standing at the baggage carousel knowing everyone can watch him, especially when he's arriving home. Tired. Hungry. The limo is always available and he tells me not to come, but I don't want to wait that extra hour for him to get to our house. The five days of this trip have seemed very long, and I've missed him.

Coming down the corridor, he gives me a little smile; I know he's as glad to see me as I am to see him. During the eight years of our marriage, we've played out this scenario for what seems to be a hundred times. It's something I should be used to by now, but going through it as often as I have doesn't make his departures any easier. He's told me it's the same for him. However, his arrivals are always good. We share a quick hug, but no other displays of affection. Our privacy is very important to us; we will do nothing to contribute to gossip.

Leaving the terminal, he takes my hand and we cross the street to the garage. In the elevator a few people stare at him and give me a sideways glance. He's tall and handsome, so who wouldn't stare? Since we both know that his face has been seen countless times on TV and in articles written about him, the other passengers' scrutiny doesn't surprise us. When you own your own company, and do a lot of good for society, you tend to get quite a bit of recognition.

Upon reaching our car I expect him to take the keys from my hand, but instead he leans into me and murmurs, “I've missed you so much, Elizabeth. Can you please drive? I want to get home safely. I'm exhausted.”

My knees wobble when he quickly kisses my ear. I think it's going to be a very good night, and a very long ride home.

During the drive, we speak of mundane things. He wants to know what our sons did today.

“Just the usual chaos,” I joke, and then elaborate on the errands, squabbles, toys, and meals. Since we talk on the phone every day while he's gone, there's nothing major to cover.

When I tell him he can nap, he says, “No, I would rather get back to the normal time by tomorrow.” The traveling is rough on him, and I know he needs to adjust his internal clock.

There's some good news, though: he reassures me that the next trip is at least two months away. He has rearranged his schedule so he can be home for most of the summer! We'll be able to take Dan and Nick to the lake for an extended stay.

This is the best anniversary present he could give me. We love to get away, just the four of us. He'll have his calls routed through the office, and his personal assistant, Marge, will handle most everything. Our children and I will have him all—well, mostly all—to ourselves.

Arriving at the gate to our community, Will reaches over to squeeze my leg. I smile at him, knowing what's in store for me. As we wait in our drive for the door to lift, he leans over to kiss me. My pulse starts to race. After entering the garage, I turn off the engine and we sit for a moment in the silence.

He pulls me close, kisses me again, and says, “Just a couple more hours and we can be alone. Let's have supper and play with the boys. I'll do my best to tire them out. Does the babysitter need a ride home?”

“You need to ask her,” I reply.

He's very eager to see our sons; they are always so boisterous, knowing he is coming home.

Because our anniversary was two days ago, I have a little surprise for him. As we go into the hallway the house is quiet. There's a lamp on the table, barely lighting the room, and the grandfather clock is ticking. He looks at me, frowning.

“Where is everyone? Jenny didn't take them out, did she?” he asks, his disappointment clear.

I tell him that I wanted a private celebration, and that our children are with my sister, Jane. As his expression changes, my belly starts to quiver in anticipation.

He says, “I really must get her a present...” as he reaches for me. I know he has forgotten about being tired. It's only a matter of moments before he backs me up to the wall and lifts my skirt.

“Did you wear this just for me?” he murmurs between kisses, and reminds me how I used to wear skirts more often before we had children. He says how much it turns him on to know he can access my body so easily.

This is just what I was yearning for: the loving, the joining, the completeness of having my husband home.

We make love standing in the hallway, and when he pauses for breath he says, “Oh, Lizzie, I feel like such a teenager when I'm with you!” With a smile in my heart, I tell him that he's no teenager.

I used to be intimidated by his height and weight, but he's never been anything but gentle with me (well, sometimes not so gentle, but I've never been in any danger). Making sure I climax first, he then takes his own pleasure. Afterward, we're leaning against each other, holding each other up, trying to get our breath.

“The good old days, before we had to lock the bedroom door,” he sighs.

When I can speak again I ask, “Do you want to clean up before we eat?” and kiss him again while I stroke his back. I wish I didn't have to let him go.

Will heads into the bedroom as I go to the kitchen to pull out the salad and some chicken I grilled earlier. The shower is running and I go into the steam to ask him if he wants beer or wine.

He pokes his head around the glass block wall and responds, “Guinness, if we have any.”

Of course we do; it's his favorite. I take a minute to enjoy the view of him through the glass, what little I can see.

Over dinner we talk about his trip, and he gives me more details about his meetings. He knows I love to hear about everything; it makes me feel a part of the business. I have never regretted staying home with our children, and he wants to include me. Since I have a different way of looking at things, he says it helps him to talk it out.

The late news is on and of course there is a story about him.

“William Darcy has succeeded in his latest negotiations”…again.

In the interview a woman is standing next to him, looking up at him, enthralled. He laughs it off. I do not tell him that I'm jealous of that woman. She's there with him, even if only for a minute, while his children and I miss him and wait at home.

Our boys and I travel with him when possible, but for the longer trips we decided it was best if I stay home with them. It is less disruptive, now that Dan has started school.

The black-tie dinner they're showing on TV was similar to the one where we met years ago. We talk about how lucky we were that my church was helping with the donations. Where would we be if I were not an event coordinator and he a philanthropist? I shudder to think that I might have never met him.

He heads into his office to look through the mail. At about 11, we go up to bed.

Cuddling beneath the covers, he kisses the stretch marks on my breasts and the scar on my abdomen. He tells me I'm beautiful. I try to shrug off the compliment because he's focusing on the blemishes that I like the least on my body. A mole or birthmark, okay, but flabby, striated, scarred skin?

He says, “They remind me how much you went through to have the babies. Don't ever have anything done to get rid of them.” God, it is so easy to love him.

Tomorrow we will pick up our children and resume our normal lives, but tonight he is all mine. I am so glad he is home.

ONE DAY IN EARLY SUMMER

It's so pretty here on Lake Fontana. There are several houses along our beach, mostly owned by young families. We've already been here this spring for a few weekends, and we catch up with everyone's news when we can. Will and I have been really anticipating this vacation.

This property has been a good investment for us since we bought it four years ago. We already had our first son, Dan, and knew we wanted a place for extended vacations where we could have a small boat. A sandy beach was also important. When we were looking, we required it to be within a two hour drive, so if we wanted to go up spur-of-the-moment on a Friday it would be manageable. Thank God for the internet, ecause we could look at houses even when Will was out of town. Our realtor has since become a friend. She has certainly seen me at my best and at my worst!

The house is not large. It's about 2,500 square feet, one level, with half an acre of land. It has an attached garage and a large screened-in porch. We put a spa on the patio last month. Six adults can fit in it, but so far it has only held the four of us.

There's also a living room, eat-in kitchen, our bedroom, the boys' rooms, and two guest rooms. Dan and Nick wanted to share a bedroom, which works out well because the other kid's bedroom is where most of their playthings are kept. Our bedroom has its own bathroom, and there's also a hallway bath that the boys and guests use. We still might add another bathroom in one of the guest rooms if we decide we want visitors for longer than a couple of days, but for now this arrangement is working fine.

Stocking up on our favorite foods is one of the routine things I do before we leave. It's easier for me to shop closer to home; with our van I can bring just about everything we need. The store in the country is so much farther to drive to and it doesn't have some of the foods we like, plus, I don't like driving on those two-lane roads.

The first thing the kids usually do when we get to the house is check the toy room. I think they're afraid that someone will steal their possessions while we're away. If they only knew the security that Will's installed here! Since he's so well known, we need to always be aware of who is around us.

It's kind of difficult being suspicious of new people, but I was badly hurt by someone I considered to be a friend. She wormed her way into our lives and later sold pictures and her story to the local paper. We know we can't stop photographers when we're out in public, but Will wants to “let his hair down” when he isn't working. To us, that means trusting family and friends to keep our confidences, relaxing, and knowing everyone is comfortable and safe.

To be honest, I feel that our families and close friends are watching out for us too. I think they're aware that people might court them because of their connection to us. It's a real pain sometimes being married to someone who is a “celebrity.”

*******

Once we arrive, the boys are eager to help us carry everything into the house.

“The faster we unload, the faster we can go to the beach,” Will tells them.

Since it's nice and hot out, the beach sounds like a good idea. We ate lunch before we started out, and Dan and Nick napped for most of the drive. It was a nice quiet two hours.

After the car is unpacked and the toy inventory has been taken, Will helps them into their swimsuits and gets some towels while I change. The boys and I go into the kitchen to get some snacks ready, and after their dad puts on his suit we are ready to go. I carry most of the stuff because my three guys are racing to the water. They toss their towels on the grass as they near the beach.

The lake was too frigid for swimming the last time we were here, but Will plunges right in this time, while Dan stops at about knee level. Nick seems unsure about the water, mainly because his older brother is yelling about how cold it is.

Will is splashing around and daring the boys to get wet. I can tell from his smile that the water feels good, and he wouldn't encourage the kids to come in if he thought it was too chilly for them to be comfortable.

Putting all the paraphernalia down on a blanket, I walk down to see if I can persuade Nick to come in with me. I didn't bring the key to the shed to get his life jacket out, so he needs to stay close to the shore. He wades in a little more and seems to like it.

Dan has joined his dad and they are having a competition to see who can hold their breath the longest. I pick up Nick and we wade out to judge who is the winner, and of course it's Dan.

Over Nick's head I catch Will's eye. The look he gives me warms me right down to my toes. I'm already visualizing our time alone tonight. Knowing what I'm thinking, he gives me a smile and a wink, and heads off to swim with Dan.

Sitting at the edge of the water, Nick and I play in the sand. We can see some boats in the distance, and I hope we can go out on the water tomorrow. The last time we were here, Dan and Nick tried fishing, and I know Will told them that if they caught any fish on this vacation we would eat them for supper. With any luck, I might have some fresh fish to cook for tomorrow's dinner.

Stretching out in the sun seems like a good idea; it would feel wonderful to relax. I bet I could fall asleep in about a minute. How can I talk everyone into laying down for awhile? Maybe a contest to see if all four of us can fit side-by-side on the blanket? Will suggests that it might be time for the bathroom, so the three of them go back to the house.

Needless to say, the minute they leave I'm on my stomach, eyes closed, the heat warming me. It feels so good to drift off, but I'm awake just enough to hear them coming back. Will tells them to build another sand castle while he takes a rest.

He sits down next to me and rubs my back with some suntan lotion. His hand drifts a little bit lower, over my rear. The rush of sensation it gives me! When he uses more lotion on the backs of my legs, I'm in heaven.

He asks, “Elizabeth? Are you asleep?”

I just hum in response. hoping to fake him out, so he'll continue his gentle caresses.

“Elizabeth…” he whispers, and as he sees me look at him, “Ah, so you were pretending?”

I tell him not really; that what he was doing to me just felt so good I didn't want to move. His hair is drying and his sunglasses hide his eyes, but I can see them crinkling at the corners. He's gorgeous in the bright afternoon light. Lying on his back, he holds my hand. I can hear the boys arguing over the construction of the castle.

“I feel so drowsy. Why does the sun feel so different out here? I lay out in the yard at home, but it's nothing like this. Is it the smell or sound of the water so close?” I murmur.

“Just the fact that we know we're on vacation makes it different, I think...and I love it here…” he says, as his finger makes circles on my palm. “Wait till I catch you alone later, Miss Drowsy. I'll figure out a way to wake you right up!”

Oh, my. I am already “woken up.” Whatever pheromones this man gives off my body recognizes with no trouble. I know it's a chemical reaction, but good grief! I can't resist him, never could.

A few minutes later a new sound reaches us: a little girl's shriek. It's Julie, the five-year-old who lives two houses away. “Mommy, Dan and Nicky are here!”

Will gives me a rueful smile and we sit up, happy to see an old friend. Our neighbor Carol arrives, carrying her son Tom.

She laughs, “Sorry for interrupting, but I couldn't grab Julie fast enough.”

Carol's husband, Joe, plays professional baseball. He's at work for most of the summer now and has a lot of road trips. She and I can certainly sympathize with each other. Tentatively, we make plans with her for the last Friday we'll be here.

Knowing it will start cooling off soon, we all decide to get wet one more time.

Will invites Julie to come fishing with us tomorrow, after he'd already made sure it was okay with Carol. Julie is eager to join us, so we talk for a moment about what would work for all of us regarding time. Carol will bring her over at 10:30, and we'll eat lunch on the boat.

********

When we get back to the house I stop on the deck to hang up the towels. Dan and Nick need some assistance getting dressed, so when Will comes to help I can leave to clean myself up.

The shower is nice and hot; it feels good to get the lake off of me and wash my hair. After putting on my underwear, it's time for the hair dryer. Suddenly Will's in here with me, turning off the bathroom light.

“Don't worry; I locked the bedroom door,” he says.

He comes behind me to reach around to pull me close, and plays with my breasts. Unhooking my bra, he groans, “I've been thinking about you all day and it's driving me crazy. I warned you!” While one of his hands comes back to my chest, his other hand goes down my stomach and into my panties.

I gasp, asking him where the kids are.

“I started the DVD with the purple dinosaur; they should be okay for at least fifteen minutes.” Laughing, I tell him that I would like more than the fifteen minutes he has allowed us.

“Honey, I don't think I'll last even that long. I need you now… I can't wait…” This is growled as he bites my shoulder. My head falls back onto his chest, and I'm getting warm very quickly. Of course I would like a slow, leisurely lovemaking session, but two of the things I appreciate about my husband are his spontaneity and his sense of purpose.

He turns me around so I face him. He's grinding his pelvis into mine, pushing down my panties, kissing me, lifting me to the counter. He must have eight hands and they're everywhere, making me ready for him. When he enters me, we both groan with the pleasure of it. He rocks into me, fast and hard, and all I can think is how wonderful it feels.

“Oh God, Lizzie! You feel so amazing,” he gasps, and I know he is close to climaxing.

Leaning close to his ear, I whisper, “Go ahead, don't wait for me,” and he finishes with even more ferocity.

So here we are, still joined, sweaty, both gasping for breath. He's kissing my neck, stroking my arms and back, thanking me, and apologizing for not helping me more.

“Later… I'll make it up to you later,” he promises. I tell him that it was worth it, but tonight I want the bed. After a few moments he disengages from me and helps me stand on the floor.

“That might have been a new record for me,” he says sheepishly.

While I hug him, what can I say except, “I love you so much, Will.”

We aren't very surprised at how much we still want each other every chance we get. I've told him that I'm always ready for him, but we both expected that as time went by our needs would diminish. The stories we've heard about the highs and lows! After nine years I worried our passion would wane. We want what we have to be special, and we work hard to keep each other interested, but it is not work at all. How could I not want to be loved by him? Will tells me I'm the most important thing in the world to him. He makes me forget everything for a little while, and makes me feel wonderful in the process. I am so lucky!

*******

The burgers are ready to grill for supper. Will quickly checks in with Marge at the office; everything is fine there. I make the salad while Dan gets the plates and utensils and Will gets the drinks. Nick just stays by me, waiting for anything I have for him to do, so I give him the napkins to put on the table.

It's a pleasure to have Will home for a stretch of uninterrupted family time. His life is so busy and I know he needs this as much as we do. Just having him here helping with dinner is something special. Seeing him out on the patio, manning the grill, and knowing that he'll be doing the same things tomorrow, gives me even more to cherish about this day.

After we eat, Will decides to go check on the boat. Inviting Dan to join him, they head off with the keys to the storage shed. Nick and I stay at the house, rocking in the lounger on the patio.

He asks, “Hot tub?” and points over to it.

"Not tonight, sweetie, we've had enough water for one day." He's getting tired, so I read him a story until he falls asleep.

When Will and Dan come back, I carry Nick to his bed and then Dan requests a story, too. After giving Dan his goodnight kiss and hug, Will goes into the living room to use his laptop to check his email.

Once the kids are tucked in, I look for my husband. He's sitting on the couch with his feet up on the table, a tumbler of scotch in his hand. The computer is turned off on the side table.

Going into the kitchen, I pour myself a few sips of Lemoncella out of the freezer and then join him on the sofa.

“Anything interesting?” I ask.

He says that everything's fine. “Your parents say hello, and Jane and Charles want to know if we can fit their family in next week while we are still here.” We talk about whether or not we want company, and decide to tell them that next Tuesday and Wednesday would work the best for us.

“So, I guess you're feeling pretty mellow, aren't you?” I wonder.

“Only about as relaxed as is humanly possible, due completely to your wonderfully accommodating disposition, Mrs. Darcy,” he smiles at me, raising his eyebrows.

“Ooooh! I just love when you talk `executive speak' to me. You sound so masterful! Oh, Mr. Darcy, you are the handsomest man on earth!” Fluttering my eyelashes at him, I mock every female he comes in contact with in his workday life.

Crushing me to his side, his kiss is hard and his voice is deep when he replies, “You never have to worry. There's never been anyone else but you.”

“I know, Will. I know. The same is true for me.”

The thought of the women who think that they can get close to him bothered me at first, but since I don't doubt his fidelity it's a non-issue. Besides, no one has any idea what we've had to weather to develop our relationship.

When we first met, I thought Will was too much trouble on account of his schedule and because I didn't want to be in competition with all the women fawning over him.

He's said he never had to work so hard to persuade someone just to go out on a date with him as he had to do with me. He certainly put in the effort. Once I saw beneath his shell, I fell in love with him.

When we finally started on a relationship, we knew it felt right. I needed to wait six months to be sure I wanted to risk everything before I would make love with him. I knew he would be the man who would break my heart if I wasn't careful. Since he was patiently waiting for me (well, not without a lot of veiled hints and encouragement from him), when I was ready for that big step…fireworks! It's still fireworks.

Will asks if I'm ready to go to bed. Of course I am! There'll be a full body massage, and hopefully something even more pleasurable. I'm sure that he will keep his promise from before. He is very generous that way, and I know he's not looking at this as a way to gratify only himself.

He helps me up from the couch and stops to activate the security system. We go down the hallway to our bedroom. While lighting a couple of candles, he asks if I want some music. I would like to listen to “Piano Works,” because I find that CD particularly relaxing, so he puts it on and we begin to dance. Slow and easy, just how I like it. To dance with Will is the best foreplay because it means swaying in one place while he kisses me and runs his hands all over my body.

Eventually we eventually move over to the bed. He helps me take off my clothes and I lie down on my belly. The massage cream is in the bedside table, and Will warms some in his hands. He starts at my feet and moves up my legs. I can't help groaning with pleasure as he reaches my hips and rear.

“I love the shape of you,” he says. He gives me a lot of attention there before reaching up to my back. Straddling me, he finishes with my shoulders; I'm at his mercy and certainly feeling the bliss.

“Turn over so I can do your front,” he whispers.

Now the fun starts! Beginning at my feet again, he works on my calves and thighs, kisses my stomach, and finally reaches my breasts. To say he is a breast man would be an understatement. His massage techniques include kissing, licking, humming, and finally using his teeth on me. When he moves up to claim my mouth, I am so ready to have him give me what I really want. While kissing me, he reaches down to touch me intimately. Anxious and needy, my hips squirm as I seek the correct pressure.

“More, Will…God, don't stop!” I plead.

He's holding me close, not easing up at all. He knows my body so well, and takes advantage of everything we've learned about loving each other. Waiting for me to climax, he doesn't give up until I'm finished. As I shudder and tremble in his arms, he just holds me tighter and kisses my hair.

The music is still playing and I want him to love me more. Rubbing his erection through his shorts, I know he is waiting for an invitation.

“I want you inside me, please, Will…” I beg.

He struggles out of his briefs without letting me go. I do what I can to help free him, and then he spreads my legs to kneel between them. He should know to hurry; I can't wait for him to enter me. When he pushes in there is nothing but marvelous sensation as I begin to build again.

“Another one?” he asks. I nod my head, unable to speak. Watching me as I climb, he gauges his thrusts for maximum effect. In no time at all I have another orgasm. His eyes darken with passion, and he holds still inside me as he climaxes also. When he collapses on top of me, I hold him close and try to breathe.

It's so wonderful with him. I'm exhausted, satisfied, totally grateful, and already anticipating the next time. He rolls to his side so we can both cool down. When his breathing is normal, he says, “Vacation is good, yes?”

As we relax, we talk about what we'll do for the rest of our holiday. The first fishing trip will be tomorrow. There's also a county fair next weekend, and hopefully we can spend an evening with Carol and Joe. Next week the Bingleys will probably come for their visit. I would be content even if we stayed home and didn't have company.

I get up to pull on my nightgown and hand Will his shorts, and then open our bedroom door so the boys can come in when they get up tomorrow morning. As I get back into bed he pulls me against him, my back to his front, and whispers goodnight.

“I love you too, honey,” I say, taking his hand to pull him closer, and drift off to sleep, secure in his arms and secure in his love.

THE COMPETITION

It's another beautiful summer day. Thunderstorms came through last night and broke the heat wave. The temperature is in the low eighties, but in the shade it's probably ten degrees cooler. All the windows are open, and we're eating lunch on the screened porch.

This afternoon we'll go to Carol and Joe's to play Scrabble. We've done this twice before and it's nerve-wracking for me. Carol, Joe and Will are all very competitive players. I'm simply the fourth player, there for fun, and I don't mind losing. Although I'm certain I can beat all three of them at logic puzzles, that won't help me today.

After eating and cleaning up, I call Carol to see if they're ready to start. Then we collect what our family needs to make the trek over to their house: life vests for Dan and Nick, towels, snacks, drinks, Nick's special blanket, and—most important—Will's laptop. After loading everything in the wagon, Will pulls it over the grass along the beach. The boys are walking on either side, making sure nothing spills out as we take a shortcut through a friend's yard.

Our neighbors, the Winchester's, are an older couple who have retired here. Although it's very isolated here the winter, they feel the beauty of the area more than makes up for being a little further from their families. They're our friends and check on our house for us when we are gone.

********

Running over to see what we've brought, Julie is mostly interested in finding out about our snacks. Carol and I both try to do our best to discourage junk food, but it's an uphill battle, much like television. Will and I decided long ago not to let the boys watch TV unless it's something educational or a video we choose for them, and at least that cuts down on the commercials.

I've packed crackers and dried apricots, and the cooler has cheese, juice, and grapes. Of course there's also some frozen margarita mix in there for the adults. Julie whispers to Dan that they have ice cream in their house, and her mom said if everybody plays nice that she'll make ice cream cones later. Play nice? I wonder if that applies to the grownups' game also.

Will and Joe carry down the patio furniture so we can sit by the beach. They place it under the tree, a nice shady spot. When Carol asks me to help her, I follow her into the house and take Tom from her when she picks up his playpen. Tom will likely nap after lunch, and he can be near us at the beach. I have my fingers crossed that Nick will tire out also.

After the playpen is set up, I get Dan, Nick, and Julie into their life vests and Carol gets out the rest of the beach equipment: pails, shovels, plastic egg cartons, squirt guns, and a few smaller containers. The kids start playing in and out of the water. It's amazing how much noise and splashing those three small bodies can produce!

Joe and Carol leave to get the game, their dictionaries, and score sheets. I get out some drinks for us, and Will opens his laptop. When Carol and Joe come back, Will announces, “According to my chart, Carol has won the first two tournaments by quite a wide margin. Joe, it's up to us to take away her title!”

I notice how he doesn't include me in that statement, and he looks at me with an apologetic smile. I do not take offense.

The men should be worried: Carol does the New York Times crossword every single day in ink! Even Will still uses a pencil. Carol has told me that when Joe is on the road he's begun doing the puzzle whenever he can, and she thinks he's gaining on her. Time will tell…

There are some rules we all agreed on: cell phones turned off, no name calling, honesty at all times, and we don't hold grudges.

Losers… Don't… Whine.

We've survived and remained friends, so the rules must be working, but this is a cutthroat game—for three people anyway.

We begin, and in no time, I'm way behind. Will is doing quite well and is ahead for the moment. The dictionaries are being used constantly, and sometimes I need the computer to look up a word. Every once in a while I come up with something that surprises my fellow competitors. We're all regulating our language because little ears are close by.

When we break after an hour, Nick is quarreling with Dan and Julie, so I towel him dry and persuade him to lie down on the sheet we brought. He cuddles up with his blanket and after I rub his back for a few minutes, he falls asleep.

Dan and Julie ask us if they can now jump off the dock. They're never allowed to do this when the smaller children are with them. We all give permission, and will keep our eyes peeled for trouble.

After pouring more drinks for us, Carol brings an assortment of dips and fresh veggies from their refrigerator. It's a very pleasant way to spend the afternoon: fun with good friends, happy children, a beautiful day, and watching the boats out on the water.

We vote to keep the game going after supper, so I go home to grab a potato salad and drinks for the kids. Joe grills hot dogs and bratwursts, and after we eat Carol makes everyone an ice cream cone. We resume the game. The three older children are dressed and playing tag, while sweet little Tom is content in his playpen watching all the activity.

We finally call it a night when the mosquitoes come out. The rankings are: Carol in first, Will in second (hooray!), Joe in third. No surprise who is fourth, but I had a great time. Hugs and handshakes all around, and a promise to do it again soon.

*******

We load up the wagon and walk home. The weather is cooling off and feels wonderful. Pulling me close to him, Will whispers, “Can this be a `camping' night?”

After considering it for a minute, I ask, “Will they be alright? Not too cold?”

He says, “If we cover them up well, they'll be fine.” I agree.

When we get home, Will teases Dan a little by alluding to the last time we “camped out.” His eyes shining with excitement, Dan pleads with him. Will and I make a big deal of discussing the weather, while Dan jumps from foot to foot in his eagerness for a “yes.”

“We slept on the porch last time and it wasn't any hotter that this,” Dan tells us.

We pretend to give his argument serious thought, and then Will says, “Okay, we can do it tonight.” Dan jumps up and gives his dad a high-five, and then runs over to tell Nick the good news.

I throw the beach clothes, towels, and sheet into the washing machine, while Dan and Nick head to their room to get ready for bed. Will helps them clean up and brush their teeth, and tells them to put on clean clothes. They'll have to sleep in something warm.

Nick looks perplexed by this. He doesn't remember sleeping on the screened porch before, but he chooses some of his favorite animals to take with: an almost-bald monkey, a stuffed lion that we got at our church's Crazy Closet sale, and a rabbit that Will brought him from his last trip.

Dan is above all that baby stuff; he just carries his and Nick's pillows out and puts his on the wicker sofa and Nick's on the loveseat. Gathering some sheets and blankets, I meet them on the porch and make up their “beds” for them.

After they're settled, I help Will carry out the base of a futon we keep in the playroom. When he brings out the mattress, I make that bed up for us, and then go to wash my face and brush my teeth.

Coming back to the porch, it's dark except for the entry light. Nick has fallen asleep with his toys and Dan is talking to his dad about going fishing again. I lie down next to Will and listen to them. Eventually Dan is quiet also.

While waiting to see if they are both fully asleep, we talk quietly. Will finally says, “It looks like they're down for the count, and now I need to clean up. Want to come with?”

“No, I'll just stay here. I'm kind of tired,” I reply.

“Come on, Elizabeth, come with me.” He pulls me up and then reaches into the corner to grab the towels he has stashed there. “Let's go swimming.”

Now this sounds like fun! When we reach the dock, we strip off our clothes. I jump in first, and then Will almost lands on me when he cannonballs in.

“Shhh!” I tell him. He just laughs and tells me the boys can't hear us.

“It's chilly in here! I won't be able to stay in for long!” I'm shivering.

With the water at shoulder level, Will reaches for me. “I can keep you warm, Elizabeth. Let me help you…”

I wind my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He's like a furnace against me and something even hotter is bobbing against my bottom. His hands aren't needed to support me, so they are busy exploring all the parts of me that ache for his touch. Before I can even tell him what I want, he's inside of me. I hold on as he begins a slow, steady rhythm.

Lifting me up a little more to kiss my breasts, he carries me into shallower water. I clutch his hair and do my best to tighten around him so he gets the maximum sensation. Of course, this helps me get the best sensations too. Lucky how it works like that, I think!

In a very short time, I'm starting to reach my peak, and he's driving into me while making his own need obvious. I think this is another competition: I'm waiting for him and he's waiting for me.

“Come on, Elizabeth,” he groans. “Hurry up and do it!”

“No, you first; I'll wait for you,” I counter. I know I can drive him crazy like this.

“Why? What are you…? Oh, God,” he begs, “Please don't do this to me!”

I'm forcing him to move slower, and it's agonizing for me too. The slower we move, the more intense the feeling. We're barely moving now, looking deep into each other's eyes, and suddenly I can't fight it anymore. As I whimper and begin to quake around him, he lets himself go with a shout and we are in ecstasy together.

He staggers with me as his knees give out, and we splash down into the water. As I go under, I feel him grab my arms to pull me up and I cough and sputter as I stand.

The laughter bubbles up in my throat as I declare, “Well, we always thought we might kill each other with sex, but that's about the closest we've come!”

“I'm so sorry, Lizzie. I just couldn't stand up any more. Are you sure you're okay?” He's so worried about me. That's my man! I tell him I'm fine, just really cold now.

Reaching onto the dock for the towels, he wraps me up first and then dries himself off. We gather up our clothes and hurry back to the house; Will sets the security system and we jump into the shower. The hot water feels fabulous and it only takes a minute to rinse the lake water off.

After putting on some sweats and socks, I towel off my hair. Will is dressing warmly also, and I grab our pillows and a blanket for the futon. When we go out to the porch, I check on the boys and make sure they're still warm enough. Will sits behind me on our makeshift bed and helps me comb the tangles out of my hair.

There has been something on my mind recently, and I decide that now is the right time to talk about it. After taking a deep breath, I broach my question: “Do you think the time is right to try for another baby?”

Will's hands stop moving in my hair and I can't hear him breathing. I rush on, “I know it's easy with Nick now, but if we wait too much longer we might never do it.”

Will starts rubbing my shoulders and says, “Let me analyze this for a minute: I love getting you pregnant; I love it when you're pregnant; I love the birth, except for the operation; I love watching you nurse the baby; I love the two we already have. Is there a downside to this? Oh, wait…condoms!”

I can hear the dismay in his voice, but I'm laughing softly. I adore him so.

He is serious now. “I think I'd like to have another child,” he murmurs while he kisses me.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yes, really. How many months after you stop taking the Pill do I need to use condoms? One?” he asks hopefully.

“Sorry,” I reply. “You know we have to wait two months before trying.”

“Well, I can make the sacrifice for the greater good,” he says as he hugs me tighter.

“Let me finish out this cycle and we can talk about it some more,” I suggest. It seems like a good plan; it will give us more than two weeks to let the idea settle in.

Snuggling under the blanket with me, he asks, “Can you stand another Cesarean? I can't imagine how hard it was for you,” The concern and sympathy in his voice bring tears to my eyes. “…And if we have a daughter… well, you have to understand that I would never be able to say no to her. Look at how Julie has Joe wrapped around her finger.”

He's always said it is up to me to decide if I want more, since I'm the one who has to go through it. I think it's much more agonizing for him, simply because he is so concerned for the baby and me. I tell him I don't feel any pain during the surgery, but he still has a hard time dealing with it.

I wipe my eyes and reach up to kiss him. He has admitted he's okay with a third. As we settle into sleep, he says, “Looks like we are going to at least try, right? We can always find room for another baby. They don't take up much space.”

It doesn't matter even if I don't get pregnant again. My life is fuller than I could have ever imagined it would be. I'm happy with things as they are, but we've talked over the years about wanting a bigger family. Just the fact that he will accept another baby means everything to me. I smile to myself and wonder if the next one will be a boy or a girl. I just have to wait and see what happens.

AN ACCUSATION


It's Friday afternoon and I'm getting a pan of lasagna assembled for supper.

When the doorbell rings, Will calls, “I can get it, honey!”

Carrying a FedEx envelope, he comes back into the kitchen. When he opens it, and reads what's inside, he exclaims, “Shit!” He starts pacing around. “Shit! Dammit to hell!”

The boys are out on the porch with their coloring books; thank goodness they can't hear him yell.

Focusing on Will as the blood drains from his face makes me feel a terrible sense of dread; he looks absolutely murderous. I clean off my hands and lead him into the living room.

“What on earth is it?” I whisper, trying not to panic.

He waves the papers at me and I can see they are some type of legal document.

“This…this bitch is suing me for paternity! I can't believe this! How can she claim this?” He's trying to lower his voice but isn't successful.

“Do you know who it is?”

“Hell yes, I know who it is. It's that insane Jessica Bradley! I haven't seen her since that meeting in New York, and that was more than a year ago!”

“Shh, don't let the boys hear you. Please calm down, Will. You're scaring me," I'm anxious, but my pleading falls on deaf ears.

“She's the one I told you about: the consultant who I had to call hotel security on last year. I told the owner of her company that I wouldn't work with her anymore, and I haven't seen her since then. How on earth can she do this?”

Reaching out to him, I take the papers from his hand and read them quickly.

“Well, we can sort it out. Don't worry, everything will be fine.” I'm trying desperately to stay composed.

He looks at me as if I've lost my mind. “How can you be so complacent about this? Don't you see what she's doing? She's calling our whole lives into question!”

“Well, you didn't have sex with her, so that's not the issue,” I reason. “She obviously wants to be paid off, and you know people have tried before to get their hands on your money by any means possible.” It's difficult to control my anger as I contemplate the fallout from this. Part of me is so sad for him, but the other part is furious that he is a target.

Will is thinking along the same lines, and is appalled. “How can you be so calm? This kind of thing can go on for years! I could be forced to take a paternity test!”

“I can tell you that I sure don't feel calm!” My voice is rising also, as we both pace around the room, thinking, “but….wait a minute, Will. There's something here…something isn't right.”

While studying the papers again, I'm trying to figure out why those dates are frustrating yet oddly familiar at the same time.

My day planner from last year is in our bedroom, so I go to get it. When I return, I ask Will to give me the pertinent dates. Searching through my book, I begin to nod.

He peers at me suspiciously. “What have you got there? What're you smiling about?”

“You need to contact your attorney. We can prove you weren't with her when she says she conceived,” I say excitedly. “Look at these dates: when she claims you were with her at the hotel here in Chicago, that's the week we went to Disney World with the kids!”

“You mean the time we snuck away for a vacation?” he remembers.

“That's right! No one knew we weren't here; everyone thought you were working from home. Her error is that she's so specific about when you were supposedly meeting her, but we can claim otherwise.”

“Are you sure? Let me see that.” Taking my planner, he reads it for himself.

Will's anger starts to dissolve. “Could it really be this simple? If I remember correctly, I signed us into the hotel in Florida, so hopefully my signature will be enough. If not, I know I can track down credit card receipts and maybe even room service bills...”

“She's sworn in this affidavit that this is the week you had an affair. She has the actual dates and the name of the hotel, but she didn't know you had left town. Big mistake on her part!” There's great satisfaction in knowing that I can stay cool and help him solve this.

“I can get a private detective to start looking for where she really was and who she was with back then,” he says thoughtfully. Before my eyes, he is turning back into the powerful William Darcy, the man I fell in love with, and with whom I've built this incredible trust.

He has remained calm in the face of business disasters, but my heart aches for him when I see him this upset, because I know his anger and worry are for our family.

He gives me a hug that lifts me off the floor. “I can't believe it can be that simple. What would I do if you didn't have faith in me?” he asks before he kisses me.

“Well, I do have faith in you. You've never given me reason to doubt you. I want to be a part of this, Will. I can help you.”

“You've already helped tremendously,” he says. “I always need you in my corner, fighting for me.”

“Don't worry, I'll be there. Any time, any place. I want to claw Ms. Bradley's eyes out for trying to destroy you!” Finally, I can let the anger I feel at her accusation show. To think that someone would try to ruin Will's reputation and to do it in such a horrible way! Of course, I realize how fortunate we are that she was so sloppy.

Seeing that Will has regained his composure, I make an attempt at normalcy: “Should I keep working on dinner? Will you be able to eat anything?”

He gives me another kiss and says, “Go ahead. I need to call Roger and get him working on this. I'll see you in a few minutes.”

*******

Supper is a subdued time. Will lets me know that his attorney is on the case, so I relax a little. After dessert, the boys pick one of their favorite movies from the cabinet and I put it in the DVD player. This will keep them occupied so I can talk to Will some more.

The boys settle in front of the TV and I come back to the kitchen, where I pour some scotch for Will and another glass of wine for myself.

“What's the next step?” I ask, loading the dishwasher.

“Roger's getting his best investigator on it. He says we should be able to shut her down in a day or two, or by the start of work on Monday at the latest. She'd better not still be in contact with my company in any way, or I'll fly down there myself and throw her out in the street.”

“Hmmm….not the best way to keep a low profile, honey.” I'd hate to see him arrested for assault!

He shrugs and says, “I can't help it, Elizabeth. I could strangle her! I never led her on. How could she want to go after us like this?”

“It doesn't matter what her motivation is. What's important is that we defend this and not tolerate accusations, now or in the future. We don't submit to blackmail, right?”

Reaching his hand out to me, he nods his head. “Come over here for a minute, Elizabeth.”

He needs my comfort, and after I move around the table he pulls me onto his lap. As he begins kissing me, he says, “I meant it before - what would I do without you? You're everything to me. To see you stay calm during those horrible minutes makes my heart…” he struggles for words. “I love you, Elizabeth.”

*******

The boys have their baths and stories and are asleep. Will was able to concentrate on what they needed, and now we can relax in the living room. I can still sense the tension in him, though.

“Can I do anything to help you, Will?”

“No, just be here with me for a little bit,” he replies, patting the couch next to him.

Deciding to see if I can persuade him out of this worry, I move to stand in front of him. He watches me as I come toward him, and reaches up to balance me as I straddle him. Putting my arms around his shoulders, I pull him close.

“Together forever… right, Will?” I whisper.

He groans and crushes me tighter. When he kisses me it feels like he is trying to climb inside me. Enjoying his roughness, I run my fingers through his curls and wish there was a way to erase the past few hours.

Pulling his shirt out of his shorts so I can get to his chest, I admire his body. I love how he has kept himself in shape. The dark hair swirls up toward his neck. I have a favorite spot right there. When I start to nibble on him, he stretches his head to the side so I can do more. “Heaven, Elizabeth. Absolute heaven.”

He's eager now. I can tell because his fingers are moving under my shirt and unhooking my bra. Tossing it to the floor, his eyes are full of desire as he looks down at me. He takes one finger and traces circles on my breasts, while his other hand is reaching behind me and going down into my pants, massaging my lower back.

“Can we make love right here?” he murmurs.

“Sure we can, Will. We can do anything you want.”

I stand up and take off my shorts and panties; now I am nude before him. The bright light makes me feel self-conscious, but I'll do whatever it takes to make him feel better. I hope he likes what he sees.

He twirls his finger and gives me one of his tried-and-true “devil” smiles, and I turn around for him. When he lets out a low whistle of appreciation, I smile and point to his pants. He unzips and exposes himself to me. When I try to whistle back, my mouth is too dry.

Mounting him, I begin a slow ride. Before too long he's hastening the pace and I'm going along with him. This time I let myself be taken over by my love for him - no fighting it, no games. When he knows I'm almost there, he reaches down to stroke me and makes me cry out with the joy of it. He pumps into me and we are done.

As I lay in his arms, I wonder if this is the time I will get pregnant. It would be nice to have something good to remember about this day.

*******

It's Sunday afternoon and I'm sitting in a chaise on the patio while the boys play in the yard. Will is out here with us, talking on the phone with his attorney. When he hangs up he says, “Okay, Roger says it's over and done with.”

Will begins holding up his fingers while he explains:

“One: He has all the airline receipts and necessary bills from our week in Florida. Plus, they can get security camera footage if necessary.

Two: Roger found someone who will testify that she was really pissed when
I wouldn't accept her advances, plus she lost her job after I complained. She was looking for a way to get back at me.

Three: She had begun an affair with a married executive from the Dallas office right around the time she claims I was with her.

Four: The father of the baby is going to own up to the affair, take a paternity test, and do the right thing financially.”

Watching Will standing here, I think that this is what I saw when I fell in love with him: a person who can handle anything, who is sure of himself, who is respected by his relatives, friends, and business associates, and who has the power of authority in his own world.

He is also a man who can be vulnerable and afraid when it comes to his family.

I say a little prayer of thanks for having the good judgment to let myself fall in love with him all those years ago. I am still amazed that he is mine.

TASTE OF CHICAGO


Our village has an annual street party; Heritage Fest is what it's called, and for three days, we can enjoy dozens of food vendors, an arts and crafts fair, and plenty of live entertainment.

Will and I take the boys every year. It's very crowded but we wouldn't miss it for anything. We meet various friends there, sample a lot of food, watch the people, and walk along the antique car display.

One of the reasons we enjoy Heritage Fest so much is because it reminds us of one of our happiest memories: our first date, at the huge celebration called Taste of Chicago.

Standing in line for food reminds me of that day. I had just turned twenty-five years old…

*******

He'd been hounding me to go out with him, calling me every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, for the past four weeks. When I came out after work one day to find him waiting on the sidewalk, I thought, “Great, now he's here in person. Let's see what his sales pitch will be today.”

With his hands clasped behind his back, he said, “You need to give me a chance, Miss Bennet. I want a date with you. Name the time and place, and I'll be there.”

William Darcy always spoke so formally. I couldn't envision him ever having any fun, or getting down and dirty. Additionally, his request sounded like a dare. To amuse myself, and satisfy my curiosity, I decided to see what he was made of.

“Okay, Mr. Darcy: Saturday, one o'clock, Buckingham Fountain.”

The look on his face was priceless! I'd just told him to meet me at the Taste of Chicago, one of the biggest gatherings the city has the pleasure to host. Hundreds of thousands of people gather each day in Grant Park to sample the food of the restaurants that participate.

I figured that it would be enough to scare him away: a man who wears a suit that costs a thousand dollars and eats in only the best restaurants wouldn't humble himself to mix with the “common folk.”

He looked at me with a challenge in his eyes and said, “See you Saturday, Miss Bennet.” Hailing a cab, he waved to me as he got in.

*******

The last Saturday of June, at a quarter to one, I was standing by Buckingham Fountain. I'd made a bet with myself that he wouldn't show. The temperature was ninety-two degrees with high humidity, the crowd was so dense I could barely push my way through to get near the fountain, and the smoke from the grills was thick and oily.

“He'll never come,” I thought, and a part of me was relieved that I wouldn't have to deal with him anymore.

I'd heard his name for years: you couldn't live in Chicago and not hear about him. He was thirty-one years old, and always on the “most eligible bachelor” list.

On the positive side, he was known as an executive who was concerned about his company and his employees, and did a lot of work for local charities. However, I still had my doubts about his personality. William Darcy seemed so detached and cold: a businessman though and through. On the phone, he always sounded so haughty and above-it-all.

Another drawback was that in most of the articles that had a picture of him, he was escorting a variety of beautiful women: all of them model-gorgeous, with long blond hair and long lean legs. Since that was the type he preferred, I couldn't figure out what he wanted with me.

When I was introduced to him at a charity event a month ago, I thought he was just another rich, pretty face. If you would have told me that he would be “pursuing” me, I would have probably just laughed at the improbability of it. Never, ever would I have believed I'd be going on a “date” with him.

I searched for him as it got closer to one o'clock, and to be generous I decided to wait until one-thirty because of the traffic and the crowd. Looking around at the food vendors, I decided to get something to drink.

Hearing a shouted, “Miss Bennet! Over here!” I began to scan the crowd. He emerged suddenly from the sea of bodies, and my breath caught in my throat. I could only see him from the waist up; his shirt was damp with sweat and plastered to his body. Every defined muscle was quite visible.

Lord, what a man! He obviously took good care of himself, and it was interesting to see what was hidden beneath the suit.

He made his way over to me: face flushed, wearing designer sunglasses, nearly a head taller than everyone nearby.

“You never thought I'd make it, did you?” he grinned. He seemed pretty smug about it, too.

“Since you're ten minutes late, I was beginning to wonder! Did your limo drop you off on Michigan Avenue, so you wouldn't have to walk so far?” I asked sweetly.

“Are you nuts? My driver would probably quit if I asked him to take `his' car into this mess. Besides, I walked over from my condo. It's only a couple miles.” He was so handsome as he smiled, with his dimples showing. “Actually, I've been here since 12:30, but I've been circling the fountain, trying to find you.”

Giving him points for being on time, I thought, “Well, here is a more appealing version of Mr. Darcy.”

He asked me to come with him while he bought tickets for the food vendors, so I followed him as he forged a path for us. At one point I was separated from him, so he reached back for me.

His hand was surprisingly soft. He led me gently, and when we got in line at the ticket booth, he pulled me near and asked, “How many will we need?” Due to the Cryin' Shames' performance on the stage behind us, he needed to lean down close to me, so I could hear him.

"Probably about thirty dollars' worth.”

When it was our turn, he spent fifty. I took the opportunity to admire his physique during the few minutes he was turned away from me.

“Okay, now what do you want to eat?” he asked.

We looked at the list, and decided to get pizza, some ribs, corn-on-the-cob, and a couple of beers. Laughing, I pointed out that neither of us chose from the “Healthy Foods” column.

“Junk food junkies today, right, Elizabeth?” As he said my name for the first time, he made it sound so…intimate!

“What exactly is going on here?” The thought popped into my head, frightening me a little. When I considered it for a minute, it didn't seem as horrifying as it would have a couple hours ago.

As we walked through the crowd of sweltering humanity, going to find the booths we wanted, he seemed like a different person. The fact that he was wearing khaki shorts and jogging shoes added to the illusion that I was with a normal man. I was surprised at how comfortable I felt with him.

After arguing about which pizza to get, we ate our slices as we looked for beer. William got the ribs from a restaurant we both liked, and I got the corn. For dessert we chose an elephant ear, and then we found a low concrete wall to sit on, and shared the food.

He talked about how he missed the country fairs that his parents used to take his sister and him to when they were young. “Not that this is a country fair; there isn't any livestock, and I don't see any apple pie,” he grinned.

I couldn't stop looking at him. I was sure he could feel my scrutiny. “I can't be taken in by his handsome face,” I thought. “He is not for me,” but God, he was easy on the eyes: those dimples, a shadow of a beard, and a lower lip I could imagine biting.

When we finished eating he asked, “What's next?”

Feeling very relaxed in his company, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt, and wanted to do something that would please him. I led him through the swarm of people, and eventually we came to a sign that read:

AUNT DEB'S COUNTRY PIES.

“Will this work for the `apple pie' part?” I asked, smiling up at him.

Hesitantly, he said, “I want to kiss you, Elizabeth. May I?” William had pushed his sunglasses up on top of his head, and the look on his face was something I would never have expected.

There was desire in his beautiful brown eyes. I was surprised by his request, but intrigued at the same time.

When I nodded yes, he leaned down and touched his lips to mine. He was very gentle, and took his time. He smelled like very expensive aftershave mixed with sweat. Not bad at all. I became interested, as simple as that. I went from seeing no future to wondering if there could be a future.

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” he said softly, and squeezed my hand. I started to pull away, but he didn't let go.

I needed to take a few deep breaths to collect my thoughts. The taste of him lingered, and his hand felt comfortable in mine. “How had he won me over so quickly?” I mused. “What am I getting into?”

We studied each other for a few extra seconds, smiled at the awareness of similar thoughts, and then turned back toward the booth.

William got a piece of pie, and looked for an Italian ice for me. I spotted a mounted policeman, pointed to the horse and said, “Livestock!”

Grinning down at me, he put his hand on my back to guide me past the horse. After strolling - pushing, jostling, bumping - through the crowd for a little while longer, it was four o'clock and I told him that I needed to meet a girlfriend. He looked disappointed but handled it well. I was a bit disappointed also, because now I wanted to spend more time with him.

“Thanks for lunch, William. It was fun being here with you. I had a good time,” I said.

“Good enough to give me your home number?” he asked. “…and, please, call me `Will'.”

I was delighted to have seen a different side of him that afternoon. I thought about how many misconceptions I had about him, and that I wanted to know more about the real man. I gave him my number and said I hoped to hear from him soon.

“I'll call you later,” he promised.

By the time I got home that night there was a message giving me his home and cell numbers, and thanking me for going to the Taste with him. He asked me to call him back that evening, so I did, and the next morning I put on my best summer dress and met him for Sunday brunch at the Sheraton. We were pretty much inseparable after that.

*******

Will brings me back to the present by squeezing my shoulder and saying, “You look like you're a hundred miles away.”

I turn to him with a smile and say, “No, I was only about thirty miles away.”

He looks at me quizzically for a minute and then he grins as he figures out what I'm talking about.

“I'll never forget that first time we went to the Taste of Chicago, either. You had me so worried that I wouldn't pass the test. I remember wondering where it would lead, and I was hoping that it would be a start for us.”

“Why don't we try to go to the Taste next summer? The boys are big enough to last the whole day, and they would enjoy the train ride. We could make it a family tradition,” I suggest.

“Sounds like a plan to me, but let's pick a cooler day!” he teases.

Will takes Dan by the hand and I push Nick in his stroller, and we go through the crowd, lingering in our happy memories awhile longer.

LUNCH DATE


Will's working overtime this week because of several extra meetings. He comes home very late at night, so other than a “quickie” now and then, there's no time for us to just relax. I miss him. It's almost like he's traveling out of town again—except for the sex.

Before leaving for work this morning, he told me that he might have a break in the middle of the day, so I call him and ask if he's available for lunch.

“I have two hours because one of the meetings was moved to five o'clock,” he says.

“If I take the train in, can I meet you somewhere? How about the Silversmith? I love the dining room there. Would you make a reservation for us?”

Agreeing to take care of it, he then offers to send a car to meet me when I get off the train.

“Thanks, honey, but it's so nice today I'd like to walk,” I reply. It's an easy distance to cover on foot, and I like to see what's changed along the way. Checking the train schedule, we decide to meet at 11:30.

After choosing a green tank dress and a lightweight sweater, I put on my makeup and drop Nick off at my neighbor's. There's plenty of time for my drive into our village to park in the commuter garage, and go into the station to buy my ticket. When I get on the train, I see an empty window seat, so I grab it and settle in for the ride.

The train clatters along, not making many stops because it's an express after Hinsdale. Looking out at the fall scenery, I feel my body start to relax. The leaves haven't begun to change; being the middle of September, the only colors are the oranges, reds, and burgundys of the late-blooming perennials. The grass looks dry and brown, but that's normal after a hot summer. I enjoy looking at many homes with their beautiful landscaping, before the train goes through the inner city.

When we pull into Union Station, I exit the train and walk along with my fellow passengers to take the escalator up to street level. Coming out into the sun, I'm glad I brought my long-sleeved cardigan, because it's at least ten degrees cooler here by the lakefront, and I need its warmth.

As I walk along Adams St., I'm searching for one of my favorite stores: Chico's. It's up ahead and I stop to look in the window. Their clothes are so feminine, and make up a good portion of my wardrobe. I like to have something comfortable on when Will is due home after work, and the softness of the fabrics feels sexy on my skin to both me and - later in the day - to him. After lunch, if there's time, I may stop in and browse for a minute or two.

Turning the corner onto Wabash, I can see the hotel up ahead. Will is already there, waiting for me at the entrance. He walks to meet me, and gives me a quick kiss and hug.

“I'm so glad you wanted to make the trip in,” he says as he takes my hand.

“Were you able to get a reservation on such short notice?”

“No problem at all,” he replies.

After holding the door for me, he follows me into the lobby. I turn toward the restaurant, but he steers me to the elevators.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

Will gives me a wink. “I thought it would be more comfortable to eat our meal in a private room. Since we've never stayed in this Crowne Plaza hotel, it will be a good time to see what the room service is like in case my company ever needs another place to recommend.”

As we wait for the elevator, I'm thinking about which underwear I'm wearing—something silky and light blue, if I remember correctly.

When the doors open, we get on and ascend to the eighth floor. The elevator is elegant and very quiet. I know Will is taking inventory of every little detail.

Reaching our room, Will inserts the keycard into the door and pushes it open. The suite is huge; past the sitting area I can see the bedroom and bath. The view of the lakefront and downtown area is unbelievable. While I'm looking out the window, Will turns on a radio station with classical music. Making himself more comfortable, he folds his jacket over a chair and loosens his tie.

A dozen long-stemmed roses are in a crystal vase on the dining table. Leaning over to smell them, I comment, “Well, if this is a welcome gift, it's so much prettier than a fruit basket!”

Then I see a card attached to the bouquet. Will massages my shoulders as he says, “Open it, Elizabeth.”

I take the card out of the envelope and read, “Thank you for wanting to be with me today. Love you forever, Will.”

My heart… melts.

Turning to kiss him, we embrace for a minute. This feeling of being adored began back when we started dating, and he's made sure I'll never forget it.

When we let go of each other, he sighs, “I called ahead for our lunch. We'll see how they do.”

I sit down on the couch and kick off my sandals. Taking off his shoes, Will sits next to me and grabs a couple of pillows so we can rest our feet on the coffee table. We talk about plans for the weekend, and Will asks who's caring for Nick.

He puts his arm around me; I lean into him. It's so comfortable like this, and reminds me how I used to meet him for lunch when I worked in Chicago after we were married. We “evaluated” every hotel in the downtown area at least once. It always felt like we were getting away with something, meeting to make love and then heading back to work.

Today, however, there's an added benefit of him getting a room for us: I'm still trying to get pregnant, and it's the middle of my cycle.

“Did you know, Will? About my calendar?” I ask.

“You mean `Let's make love on the 15th, 16th, 17th, and 18th?' That calendar? I was worried I wasn't going to get the job done this month, and then you called. I get another chance? Great!” His demeanor is serious as he says this.

I smile at his solemn expression, but then he begins to kiss me. He hums with satisfaction, and just as he starts touching my breast there is a knock on the door.

“Later, lover…” I whisper.

The waiter wheels the cart in and places the food on the table. Will checks his watch and gives him a generous tip.

“Extremely prompt service…” he compliments him.

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” the waiter replies.

“…and a very polite staff,” Will says to me after the waiter leaves.

Removing the lids, I see that he has ordered salmon with dill sauce, one of my favorites. He always chooses something I like. The fish is done to hot and flaky perfection, and the salad of baby greens with balsamic vinaigrette is delicious. Will also seems happy with his meal.

“This is wonderful. Five stars, right?” I comment, taking another tasty bite.

“Not until after we try out the bed,” he says softly.

Well, that certainly gives me a visual. I look at my watch and see there's an hour and a half before I need to catch my train.

“I think I'm getting full,” I say, putting down my fork and pushing my half-eaten dish away.

Watching me with those bedroom eyes of his, he nods toward the doorway.

“You go first. Let me know when you're done.”

I use the bathroom and brush my teeth with the hotel's supplies. When I come out he's standing in the bedroom, and goes into the bathroom after me. I wander around the room, appreciating the luxuriousness of the furnishings.

There's a mirror above the desk, so I stop to look at myself. I still wonder what he sees when he looks at me. I am no beauty queen. I think I'm reasonably attractive: dark curly hair, brown eyes, and curvy in a mature way. Real breasts, narrow waist, and good hips. There are millions of women prettier than me.

I'm in front of the mirror when Will comes up behind me. His shirt is unbuttoned, and he stands head and shoulders above me.

Looking at me in the mirror, he says, “You are so gorgeous, Elizabeth.” He puts his arms around me and pulls me back against him, kissing my neck.

He touches me through my dress, weighing my breasts in his hands. He says, “Remember how full you get when you're nursing?” I groan with the memory, and with his touch.

Lifting my dress over my head, he takes my slip along with it, and tosses them onto a chair. As I reach back to touch his face, he unhooks my bra and raises it, exposing me.

“Look at you…” he murmurs.

I glance up to see his eyes on me in the mirror. I'm on fire and he hasn't even kissed me yet! I feel so protected and safe in the cage of his arms. Sliding his hand into the waistband of my panties, he begins to fondle me; I lose the feeling in my legs.

“Watch me love you,” he demands, holding me tighter. I can't take my eyes off the mirror: the dark hair on his arm, and his hand hidden beneath the sheer material. I can see the movement of his fingers, though.

Glancing up, I see the flush high on his cheeks and know it will be wonderful for us again this time. I moan as he slips a finger inside of me.

“Come for me like this, Elizabeth.”

His left arm is holding me up and his hand is kneading my breast. Both of my hands are on his arm; his erection presses against my back. Stroking me, he hits the right spot every time.

It's too much for me, almost painful. I'm wriggling against him; he's struggling to keep contact.

“I can't!” I cry. He asks me what else can he do; what will make it happen for me?

“Inside…come inside me, Will,” I beg, and he strips off my panties.

He quickly takes off his slacks and briefs; then uses his thigh to force my legs further apart. I bend over the desk onto my elbows and he slips into me.

Every push lifts me up on my toes, and when he reaches down to touch me again, it's perfect. He's whispering dirty, suggestive words in my ear: how hot and wet it feels inside me, how much he loves my submission, and how he'll never stop needing this. Letting me hear his most carnal thoughts, he arouses me to the point of breaking.

Sobbing, “I'm coming! Oh Will, oh, please,” I feel myself building to an orgasm, then shattering into a million pieces.

In the next instant he carries me to the bed and is now back inside me, face-to-face, kissing me, touching my breasts, straining against me, pushing me up toward the headboard.

He exclaims, “Lizzie, oh, God!” and climaxes. He's shaking above me, trying to not crush me into the bed. Holding him close, I want everything he gives me.

“Stay with me for a minute, Will,” I murmur, kissing his heaving chest. “I like it like this.” Relaxing down onto me as I rub his back, he's still trying to catch his breath.

“Jesus, what you can do to me! Unbelievable!” he gasps, his face in my hair.

We're quiet for a moment, and then he says, “Think this time might've done it? If not, just call me tomorrow and we'll have lunch again, okay?”

I love how he can make me laugh so easily. That's one of the things marriage gave us: the comfort of everything not needing to be so serious all the time. The act of love is a deliberate thing, but the joy and happiness I feel each time is immeasurable.

After awhile we agree that the bed is perfect, and we get up to help each other dress. There's still a lot of kissing going on until we actually have to leave the room. I take the vase of roses with me.

Will stops at the front desk to speak to the manager. Business cards and handshakes are exchanged. As we exit the hotel, the doorman signals for a cab. I expect Will to shut the door after me, but he gets in and tells the driver, “Union Station.” He sits with me and holds my hand.

“I just wanted a few more minutes with you. They can wait for me if I'm a little late.”

We kiss as I leave the cab, and I walk down to my train. It will be more than eight hours until I see him again. On the ride home I look out the window again, but it's all a blur. I reflect on the time we make for each other, and how he makes me feel so necessary to his happiness, as he is to mine. I wouldn't trade this afternoon for anything.

ALL-STAR CHARITY BALL


Tonight we're going to a formal party! This is one of the biggest fundraisers in the Chicago area. Will's bought a table of tickets and we'll have several friends sitting with us.

Every year we support this event. The timing is great, being after Thanksgiving but before Christmas. It's usually held on the first Saturday of December. Everybody who is anybody attends this party: all the sports teams, politicians, actors and actresses, TV personalities, and the wealthy patrons of the city. Basically, all of our town's movers and shakers are expected to be there.

Our babysitter, Jenny, is already here. We need to leave in half an hour and she's taking care of the boys so I can get ready. I can hear them playing hide-and-seek downstairs. It'll be easy for her tonight since I told her that she could let them eat anything they want while we're gone. That way she won't get an argument when she feeds them.

She asks, “They won't throw up or anything, will they, Mrs. Darcy?” and then, philosophically, “No problem, I've had to clean up after them before, right?”

Will had a good laugh when I told him about it. He's done with his shower and is now shaving, while practicing his speech in his “executive voice.” I love that voice.

My new dress is hanging on my closet door and I hope Will likes it; it's sleeveless, red, with sequins on the bodice, and I have a matching wrap to wear over it. I bought new shoes, too, with two-inch heels that match the color of the dress.

I'm in my underwear, hooking my stocking to a garter, when Will comes in from the bathroom. I smile at him over my shoulder.

“Boy oh boy, Elizabeth. I wish I had a picture of you just like that…” he compliments me, leering.

“Hold that thought, sailor. We'll be back here in about six hours and you can board the ship then.”

Sitting on the bed, he watches me put on my other stocking, and I know it's turning him on. I try to remember the last time I wore garters; I think that I might have to do this more often. Which would he like more: the putting on, or the taking off?

Will sighs when I'm done, and gets up to put on his shirt.

A knock sounds on our door; Dan is asking if he can eat popcorn tonight. I open the door just a little bit and respond, “Is popcorn food?”

Thinking about it for a minute, he says, “Well, we eat it, so it must be food.”

“Right, there you go. You can have popcorn.”

Before I'm finished speaking, he is running down the steps yelling, “Mom says popcorn is food!” I pity Jenny tonight.

“You need to give Jenny a bonus when you take her home, Will.”

“What? Okay,” he says as he fiddles with his tie.

The bathroom is less humid now, so I can put on my makeup. When I'm done, Will is wearing his tux and looks like the handsomest man alive. He zips my dress for me and squeezes my shoulder when he's done.

“Pretty dress, Elizabeth,” he says, looking me up and down.

Reaching into my jewelry, I take out my gold earrings. Will goes to his dresser and takes out a box. He comes back to me and holds it out.

“This is for you, honey, an early Christmas present.”

Inside, I find a beautiful ruby necklace, five gems set in a gold choker.

“Oh, Will! You didn't have to do this. Thank you so much!” Overwhelmed, I run my fingers over the stones. He takes the necklace and helps me put it on.

“One for each of us, plus one to wish on for a baby,” he smiles.

“Don't make me cry! I just did my makeup!” As I look at him in the mirror, I'm so overcome with desire that I can barely stand. I imagine how, when we go to bed tonight, I'll wear this necklace and nothing else.

When I turn to hug him, he kisses my cheek. Checking myself in the mirror one last time, I think I look great: the dress is perfect, my hair and makeup are just right, and the necklace…well, what can I say? In addition, I have the best accessory of all, my husband, Mr. William Darcy.

*******

Once we're at the party, there are so many people to greet: old friends and acquaintances, executives that Will has had business with, and of course, the women.

At one point Will winks at me, and offers, “I'll give you fifty bucks if you protect me.” There are so many of them flocking to say hello, it's a losing battle. I'm sure that most of them are happily married, but the lure of shaking his hand or getting a picture with him is too powerful. You would think he was a famous movie star! They would kill to have a chance to kiss his cheek.

“If you want to raise a lot of money for charity, and do a humanitarian service, why don't you offer to take pictures with them and charge a hundred dollars for each one?” I suggest. To myself I think, “Dream on, ladies, he's going home with me.”

When the Master of Ceremonies announces dinner, the eight of us assemble at our table: my sister Jane and her husband, Charles, Will's assistant Marge and her husband Fred, Joe and Carol, and Will and I.

It's a fun group, with lots of good conversation and remembrances. It has been two months since we've seen Carol and Joe, so we talk about our families, his baseball season, and what was going on the last time they were at Lake Fontana. Marge and her husband are only half listening, because they're in awe of all the television and sports people they recognize.

Jane and Charles are always good company. I try to get together with Jane a couple of times a month. She's the sister I'm the closest to and I'm lucky to have her nearby. Most of the time when we see each other it's with all of our children around, so it's nice to be out for an “adult” evening.

The table settings are lovely, with tall candles and a beautiful centerpiece. The champagne and wine flow freely, and the hum of the crowd is all around.

While Will engages Charles in conversation, he slips his hand under the table and squeezes my leg. I enjoy the way he pays attention to me, even when he's talking with someone else!

Over the next hour, we consume a delicious five-course meal, including tomato basil soup, field greens salad, prime rib, new potatoes, roasted vegetables, and ending with a chocolate raspberry cake. The meal goes quickly; our table is filled with lively discussion and inside jokes.

Once we're done eating, it's time for the speeches. Will is a great speaker; he never gets nervous about it and he's told me it's just another job. If I had to give a speech in front of five hundred people, I'd be a wreck!

When it's time for Will to go to the podium, he says, “Wish me luck,” and strides through the tables to the stage.

All eyes are on him as he begins by thanking everyone for coming. He talks about the generosity of the Intercontinental Hotel for hosting this event, the wonderful meal, and reminds everyone about the silent auction. He makes his pitch for the charities, and when he's finished, he leaves the stage to deafening applause. My cheeks flush with pride as he walks back to me.

“How'd I do?” he whispers.

“Terrific!” I tell him. “I'm sure your speech is encouraging them to donate more right now!”

We listen to the others, some as good as Will, and others who are doing their best to just get the job done and get off the stage. At last, the speeches are over.

The orchestra tunes up for the dance portion of the evening. Will and I have an agreement: we dance every other dance with each other and that way Will can schmooze the ladies and hopefully get them to increase their contributions. There are probably a few gay men here who would like to dance with Will also, but I doubt he'd be willing to do that even if it meant more money for the charities.

It's a lot of fun dancing with Will and all those other men. I do my part to talk up the charities and try to get additional donations. I dance with the mayor, two news anchors, and my favorite weather man.

However, some of the sports players make me feel old. They're so young and handsome, and every one calls me “Ma'am or “Mrs. Darcy.” All that exuberance at age twenty-one is starting to wear on me.

When it's Will's turn again, he takes my hand and we move in sync to a fast song. The crush of bodies seems oppressive, and I suddenly feel light-headed.

“I'm really warm, Will.” I'm unsteady on my feet, so he guides me toward a balcony and we go out into the cool air.

As we stand outside, he says, “Are you okay? What's wrong?”

After a few deep breaths and a moment's thought, I pull his head down close so he can hear me.

“I think you might need to start another college fund, Will.”

He looks at me in confusion, and I can tell he thinks I'm talking about the charity. As the light begins to dawn, the smile he gives me warms my heart.

“Oh, Elizabeth, are you sure? How long have you known?”

“I don't know for sure, but the way I just felt in there's familiar. You know I'm not one to swoon. I'll buy a test tomorrow.”

He hugs me close, kisses me, and whispers into my hair, “God, I hope you're right. Do you want to leave? I'll make our excuses if you do.”

I tell him no, that just being in the fresh air is helping. We go back inside so he can work the room some more. I sit at the table to watch him and every few minutes he looks back at me. The connection we feel for each other has never been stronger. We have a secret!

*******

The drive home takes forty-five minutes and Will holds my hand almost the whole way. I'm so tired, but I can't help being excited by the almost-certainty of being pregnant. When we pull up in front of the house, I go in and send Jenny out to the car so Will can take her home.

I give a cursory glance towards the kitchen. It seems to be clean, and I wonder about what Dan and Nick ate tonight. They are sound asleep, so if their food choices bother them, I'll probably find out about it around four in the morning.

In our bedroom I change into my robe, and after my teeth are brushed I undress and lie down on the bed to wait for Will. He's taking longer to come back than I expect, so I cover myself as I begin to doze off. The alarm system wakes me with the bell that lets me know the garage door is going up.

“Good, he's finally here,” I think. I throw off the covers and arrange myself in what I hope will be a seductive pose.

He comes running up the steps and when he enters our room, I see he's carrying a bag.

“Sorry I took so long. After I dropped Jenny off I went to the 24-hour pharmacy and got some pregnancy tests. Can you do one now?” He is totally focused, a true man on a mission.

“Sure, I'll do one now,” I sigh, humoring him, as I get up and saunter over, wearing only my necklace. Taking the bag. I go into the bathroom. There are two boxes in the bag. I shut the door, and can hear him pacing and muttering.

“You're making me nervous, Will!” I call to him. Even though I know the test should be done first thing in the morning, I hope for his sake that it'll work now.

“Sorry,” he says. “I'll get undressed while you're in there.”

After finally relaxing enough to take the test, I go back into the bedroom, and tell him we have to wait three minutes. Will sets his watch alarm. I put on my robe to keep warm, because Will is pacing in his underwear and I can tell there won't be any cuddling until we have a result.

Every time he passes the bathroom door, he peeks in to check the test stick.

“A watched pot…” I tell him.

“Okay, okay,” he says.

His timer lets him know the three minutes are up and he brings the stick out, frowning.

“Two pink lines…Does that mean we're having a girl?”

“No,” I tell him with a big smile, “but it means you're going to be a daddy again!”

“Well, isn't this good news?” he says happily, reaching out with both hands for me. We do a slow little dance, while he murmurs, “You were naked when I came in here, weren't you?”

“Except for my necklace,” I remind him.

“You were wearing your necklace? I didn't notice; all I saw was my beautiful wife.” He's such a charmer.

When we begin to make love, he's as gentle as I can ever remember him being. I try to persuade him to give me more, but he says, “Now that I know there's a baby on board, I want to take it easy.”

“You know you don't have to worry, Will. The baby will be fine. I may not be as limber as I was four years ago,” I remind him as I blush, “but I like your moves.”

“You're sure?”

“Come on, Will. Please don't hold back!” I encourage him.

He is suddenly serious, and very passionate. He possesses all of me: heart, mind, and soul. I delight in knowing that I'm able to captivate him also.

When we're resting afterward, he fingers the jewels as he looks down on me and says, “There's nothing in the world as pretty as you, Elizabeth.”

I bask in his admiration. I know he's exaggerating, but it makes me so happy when he says romantic things like that.

“You are truly the best husband. I love you, Will.”

We relax into sleep, wondering about whether this baby's a boy or a girl. It feels like my body isn't my own anymore; now there are two of us here under my skin. I tell him I think our lives are blessed; that I'm grateful every single moment for what we have. It's the perfect end to a perfect day.

A FRIEND'S DILEMMA

Charlotte calls and asks if she can come over. I tell her to wait an hour, so I can take quick shower, and then I check in the fridge to see what I can make us for lunch.

I'm always glad to get together with Charlotte; she and I are in tune with each other and we can usually find something to laugh about regarding our past.

Charlotte Collins and I have been friends since college. We shared an apartment for a year after we graduated, and it was such a comfort to have her there when it was scary being out in the real world. She also married someone who travels and we talk about that a lot. Her two daughters are both in school all day and she works part-time in a doctor's office.

Seeing her pull into the driveway, I go out on the porch to meet her.

As I give her a hug, she says, “Lord, Elizabeth, it's good to see you!” She examines my belly, asks how I'm feeling, and tells me that she's glad it's me and not her who is having another baby.

I ask her how her daughters are and where her husband is this week.

“The girls are fine, both are doing well in school this year. Bill's in Amsterdam, and will be home in two days.” She seems somewhat sad, and I can't help but wonder if there's a problem. I hope that if she needs to, she'll talk to me about it.

Going into the house, she comments, as she always does, on how cozy it feels here. I'm glad our guests know they can put their feet up and relax. There are some toys in the living room and Will left his books on the kitchen counter. Nick is building a fort under the dining room table and has several of his army guys and stuffed animals with him.

As I heat water for tea, Charlotte asks if we can sit here in the kitchen so Nick won't hear us. Something must be gravely wrong, because her whole demeanor is so serious.

“Charlotte?” I prod, as I set the sweeteners in front of her.

“Oh, Elizabeth, what am I going to do?” she asks, obviously upset. I sit quietly with her while she takes a few deep breaths and then she says, “I want to ask you some questions, but they might be too personal.”

“Well, we've talked about almost everything over the years; I can't think of any taboo subject.”

“How do you handle it, really, with Will being on the road so much? You seem like his being gone doesn't bother you. Is it all an act?”

I frown at her, not sure where she's heading with this. “You mean how do I deal with his traveling?” I thought she and I both handled the demands of our husbands' jobs well.

“Not really. It's hard to explain: I almost wish Bill was away from home more. I know you go to the airport to meet Will sometimes, but why bother? You have enough to do, don't you? I mean, I couldn't find an extra hour or two for something like that! Plus, most of the time Bill doesn't even act like he's glad to be home.” Her voice cracks as she looks so sad.

I'm stymied by her outpouring of emotion. Charlotte's normally a person who is controlled. She sounds angry and hurt, and I'm trying to understand where this is all coming from. I don't even know what questions to ask because I had no idea she had these problems in her life.

“You…you're life with Will seems so perfect, but it's not really like that, is it? It can't be like that all the time, right? Don't you ever get mad at each other?” she asks.

“Well...sure, but…,”

Cutting me off, she says, “Here's an example: I was waiting for Bill to come in after the limo dropped him off and he didn't come into the house! I opened the door to the garage to see where he was and he was on his phone, standing next to our cars, still doing business! I thought, `He's been gone for a week and still can't take a few seconds to just say hello and let me know he's home?' Like I'm nothing to him. I just shut the door and kept making dinner.”

The hurt is apparent in her voice, so I take her hand - imagining the times that Will's almost crashed through the door in his haste to get to us - and say, “Charlotte, I didn't know you were this unhappy. You never said anything before. Can't you talk to him about it?”

“I've tried talking to him, but it doesn't do any good. It's always been like that with him; business always comes first. Do you remember the time we were supposed to go on vacation with you and we had to cancel? Well, Maggie wasn't sick. Bill got a call from work and needed to take care of that instead. I lied to you because I was embarrassed.”

“Does he know how much this bothers you, really? Would he be willing to go to counseling?”

“He's `doing this for us, for our future',” Charlotte says sarcastically. “That's what he says, anyway. I know that the real reason is that he feels so important at work. He could slow down and take a different position that required less traveling if he wanted to. We don't need the money that badly, but he still doesn't want to make any time for us. It's like the girls don't even notice if he's home or not anymore.”

“Do you let him know he's `needed' by you, too?” I ask.

“It's not my fault! Why should I be the only one who's trying?”

“No, it's not your fault. It doesn't have to be anybody's fault! You're a very self-sufficient person. What I'm asking is do you think Bill believes you don't need him?” I pause to regroup and better express myself. “Can I ask you a question? When did you decide to give up on him? He wasn't always like this, was he?”

Pondering my question for a minute, she then says, “You know, he really was like this before we got married. He said he would make more time for us, but it never happened. I should've known going into a relationship with him that his work was the most important thing, but I ignored it and hoped he would change.”

“People can't change what they don't recognize as a problem,” I observe.

“That's true…,” she says thoughtfully.

I think that this realization is her first step forward. “Charlotte, all this time I've thought you were fine. You never let on how unhappy you are. I don't know how you've been able to deal with his traveling when you've had to wonder about his dedication to your family. It must have been very difficult.” I think of the phone calls I get from Will, and how he always makes me feel that he wants to stay connected to me.

“I don't know what to do. I still love him, and I just want him to love me back, but I feel like I'm alone in our marriage. I'm to the point of leaving because I'm so unhappy.”

“Can't you give it one more try? He's not physically abusive, is he?” I never in my life thought I would have to ask her something like this.

The anguished look she gives me causes my stomach to drop.

“He doesn't hit me, but he's mean. He's usually tired when he comes home, and he doesn't take it out on the kids, but his whole attitude is just so nasty. His dinner isn't cooked right, he needs me to hurry up and do his laundry, he has to check his email, and he needs to call his aunt. I could just scream because all I want is to feel loved!”

Charlotte's life is so far removed from my reality, that I don't know where to start. I'm certain that our children and I are the most important things to Will. He doesn't need to say it; he shows us all the time. Moreover, he's never ill-tempered when he comes home. Sometimes I don't know how he finds the reserves of strength to deal with everything; there are the house problems, health issues, appointments to make and keep, and all the trivia of life that he has to spend time on when he's home.

Then she says something with such pain in her voice, I want to cry. “How do you really know that Will is faithful, Elizabeth? How can you trust him when he's away so much?”

My first thought is to defend my husband, but I don't think she means this as an accusation. Taking a deep breath, I guess that she's asking about me, not him.

“I couldn't be married to him and not trust him, Char. I have to trust him. It's just how we agreed to live our lives when we first got together.”

“Come on! When he had that paternity suit, didn't you ever wonder if that could be true?” She brings up a very painful subject for me and I start to get upset.

“Never. He has never given me one reason to doubt him! It's a two-way street though: do you think my husband spends any of his time worrying if I'm having an affair? Of course not, but I get lonely, too. Now I have a question for you… do you think Bill has been unfaithful? Do you have proof?” I ask her.

“No, I don't have proof, but he doesn't even want to have sex anymore. I feel all he needs me for is to be the housekeeper, scheduler, cook, nurse, and mother. What I want is to be a wife! I want to feel loved,” she cries, and I can tell she's on the verge of breaking down completely.

“Well, aren't all those things part of being the wife? You know we get all the crap loaded on us because we're the wives! Even if Will was in town all the time, I would still have to do everything you mentioned! I don't look at it as if that's bad or unfair; it's what marriage and having a family is. I'm tired at the end of the day, but I knew what I was getting into when I married him.”

“I'm sorry I brought the paternity suit up, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to. Forgive me?” she says, with tears in her eyes.

“I know you're upset; don't worry about it,” I tell her. “There's something else, though, that I've learned over time. When things between Will and I are going great, even the biggest problem doesn't seem too bad. However, when things aren't going well, then it seems like even the smallest problem is insurmountable. Is there any chance that you're only looking for the bad in Bill? Can't you find anything positive to focus on about him?” My heart is breaking for her because she never let me know how trapped she felt for all these years.

Charlotte stands up and walks over to the window, sniffling. After a few minutes, she remembers, “He used to bring me a book or candy when he came home. He also used to invite me on his trips, but I didn't go. First, because of my job, and then because I didn't think I could leave the girls. Maybe early on he was trying harder. I had forgotten that.”

“Can you ask him if you can go with him on his next trip? Maybe you can give it another chance. The girls can stay here with us,” I feel hope for her, especially if she can remember some good times.

“What if he doesn't want me to come? What if my being there would only make things worse?” she asks, tearfully.

“You'll never know if you don't try. What's the worst that can happen? He says no? Well, in that case, you might have to make plans to change your life, but he might say yes. I think if it ever comes to the point where you're making a decision to leave him, wouldn't you feel better knowing you tried everything before you gave up?” I have to wonder if I'm giving her good advice to stay and give it one more try, especially if he's so hurtful. “Either way, you have to do what's best for you and the girls.”

Nick comes in, hungry, so I suggest eating something, but she holds out her hand to stop me.

“I'm not going to stay for lunch. I need to think about things. I'm sorry I unloaded all this on you, but you've been such a big help. Please don't worry about me; I need some time alone before the girls get home.” She hugs me tightly and gives Nick a kiss before she leaves.

Watching her drive away, I contemplate how everything I believed about her marriage was based on false information. Charlotte kept so many secrets, but I can't blame myself for not knowing how critical the situation is.

Sometimes things have to get as bad as possible before a person will look for a solution.

*******

As I tell Will about Charlotte when we get ready for bed, I shed a few tears, and wonder if I was any help to her at all.

“Well, you listened and maybe that was all she wanted,” he comforts me, rubbing my back as we lie down. He's very charitable in not mentioning his oft-repeated opinion of Bill Collins. “You know that she'll make the right decision for herself and the girls. She's a smart woman.”

His kind words of support and love help me settle down. We talk some more, about how his day went, our sons, how BabyThree and I felt today, and the coming weekend. I say a quick prayer for Charlotte and her family, and acknowledge once again how fortunate I am to have this peacefulness and security in my life.

SNOWBOUND


This New Year's Eve is a private celebration for us. Due to the blizzard, our plans to get together with my sister Jane and her husband Charles had to be cancelled. They were going to come to our house, but the roads are impassable.

Since we're not having company, we can be casual tonight: I'm in my fleece pajamas and Will's wearing jeans and his Harvard sweatshirt. The kitchen is cluttered from making hors d'oeuvres, and I'm cleaning up while Will tucks our sons into bed. Our favorites are on the counter: nachos, Swedish meatballs, chicken and bacon roll-ups, raw veggies, and ranch dip. A chocolate cake and champagne will be our midnight dessert.

Just like my previous pregnancies, there's nothing wrong with my appetite. Will always says our kids will eat anything because “Their mother ate everything while she was carrying them.” I also consider myself fortunate to have never been a victim of morning sickness.

Coming back into the kitchen, Will gets a beer out of the fridge and offers, “Do you want more sparkling cider, Elizabeth?”

“No thanks, I'm fine for now.”

Filling our plates, we go into the living room. Will lit the fireplace an hour ago, and the warmth makes the room nice and cozy. Sitting next to each other, our feet up on the ottoman, we watch the storm. At 11:30, we turn the TV on for the Chicago countdown and celebration.

Will and I are looking forward to 2007. Our baby is due in July and Will's cutting down on his travel.

When it's midnight, we celebrate in the way we love: naked in front of the fire. The two of us are cocooned in our own world, cut off from everyone. I love any time alone with my husband because it reminds me of what it was like before we became parents.

At close to one in the morning, we go up to bed. As he rubs my back and I start to fall asleep, I remember the first time we were snowed in…

*******

We'd been dating for six months. After I was done working on New Year's Eve, Will met me at my apartment so we could have a celebration of our own. He told me then that he loved me, and I was sure I'd also fallen in love with him and that he'd become essential to my happiness.

Now he was about to return from another trip, and I was anxious to see him. We had grown very close, and I knew he wanted more than the light petting we'd indulged in. Because he could be quite persuasive, and my own passion was aroused, there were several times I was on the verge of giving in.

My hesitation—oddly enough—stemmed from the fact that I knew in my heart he was the right one for me. If this didn't work out, I didn't know how I could survive. The intensity of my feelings scared me, and there were several other issues I needed to address. I was trying to hold off the inevitable, though, because I knew I wanted to make love with him.

Will had been in Dallas for the last four days. When he was out of town he kept in touch every night, and I tried to adjust my schedule to have as much free time as possible to spend with him when he was home. Since I worked from my home office, it was easy to do.

Phoning me late on Friday night, he let me know that he'd arrived home. As a Chicagoan, I knew these early January blizzards could be brutal, and the weather might delay him.

On Saturday morning, he called me at nine. There were more than six inches of snow on the ground already, and the storm was still going strong. We had planned to go to the zoo today, and he asked if I still wanted to meet him in Lincoln Park.

“I'll come over if you don't want to go out.”

“Do you really want to spend time in this horrible weather?” I asked.

He laughed, saying, “We can do whatever you want, Elizabeth. The cold won't bother me at all!” He always made me feel as if he would do anything to be with me.

Since a little bit of exercise sounded good to me, I told him I would meet him at the zoo entrance at eleven o'clock.

Tramping through the snow, I couldn't help but notice the beauty of the park. There were some families with sleds; the children laughed and screamed as they flew down the hills. The tree branches were hanging low, weighed down by the heavy snow. I could see the footprints of animals - probably from rabbits and squirrels - but they were quickly obliterated by the constant snowfall.

No cars drove by, and no airplanes flew overhead. In the distance I heard the snowplows scraping along the street.

Will was already at the gate and he waved at me, looking like a very handsome snowman. Reaching him, I brushed off his hat and coat. We stomped our feet to temporarily clean off our boots, and then he kissed me on the cheek and took my hand as we walked through the gate.

A small tractor cleared the paths, so we followed it. We spent an hour touring the zoo and had it mostly to ourselves. The polar bears enjoyed the cold; it was one of the only exhibits where the animals were outdoors. We ducked into the reptile house to warm up, but the heat and humidity drove us back out almost immediately. In the few minutes we were inside, though, Will stopped me with an arm around my shoulders and gave me a lengthy kiss.

As we walked back to my place, we talked about business. Will told me about his past week, the schedule for his next trip, and an acquisition he was working on. I was worried about one of my clients who was being difficult. She wanted a St. Patrick's Day party, but kept changing her mind every day about the details. At my door, he cleaned the snow from my coat and hat and I did the same for him.

For lunch, we had coffee and sandwiches. There were some cookies left over from the holidays, but he didn't want dessert.

“I ate way too much at those business meetings, so I need to cut down,” he said. We talked about renting a movie later, if Blockbuster was open.

When I was cleaning the dishes afterward, he came behind me and rubbed my shoulders.

“I missed you so much, Elizabeth. I thought of you every free moment I had.” He hugged me and kissed my cheek, and I leaned back against him, enjoying his touch.

Grateful that he hadn't tried to pressure me when I couldn't let myself go all the way, I now thought it was time for me to take the next step.

“I missed you too, Will. I've wanted to go further with you, but my feelings scare me. I just can't picture how our future will work. You're gone so much and women are always around you...” I'd never before expressed my doubts about being able to handle his lifestyle.

He squeezed my shoulder one more time, and then, dropping his hands, he stepped back from me.

“Maybe someday I can cut down on the travel, but I can't do that now. As far as those women go… do you know what I call them? Parasites! That's what they are. They just want their picture on TV or in the paper. If it's not me they're after it would be a football player, a movie star, or a politician,” he said, putting more distance between us. “Don't you have faith in me?”

“I…I do have faith in you, but I can't pretend I'm not bothered that you're gone so much!” I was upset and needed to defend myself.

“You don't have to anything to worry about!” He was losing patience with me and I didn't know what to do about it. “Didn't you believe me when I said I loved you? After all the time we've spent together, you don't trust me? These separations are hard for me, too.”

He was pacing back and forth, running his hand through his hair, closing off from me. Panic spread through me, and I knew I needed to explain myself better.

“I don't know if I'll ever be able to deal with it all: your schedule, the traveling, your wealth and lifestyle. All of it scares me,” I said, hoping he would try to understand. I had never told him all of my uncertainties before, and I realized they were concerns he hadn't guessed I had. He'd obviously thought everything was fine, while I'd managed to hide those feelings from him, and now I was botching the job of trying to clarify them.

It was as if he'd pulled a curtain over his emotions. The haughty Mr. Darcy was talking to me now.

His voice was low and controlled when he said, “I'm sorry my life is such a problem for you. I thought we had something good here.”

The raw disappointment on his face made me feel guilty for not having faith in him.

Putting on his coat, he opened the door and walked out, saying, “I'll call you later; right now I need some time to think about this.”

“Wait! Please don't go!” I was crying and thought, “That's it; I'm too much trouble for him. He won't even try to understand,” but I couldn't let him leave like that, hurt and upset.

I ran out into the hallway, calling his name, hoping I could stop him, desperate to catch him and repair the damage I'd done.

Rushing down the stairs, I pushed through the entry, and he was right there, coming back up the steps.

Hugging me tightly, he said, “I'm so sorry, Elizabeth, I shouldn't have left; please forgive me. I don't want to argue…I want to be here with you. We can work it out, I know we can, and we have to stay together.”

As I pulled him back into the warmth of the foyer, I thanked him for coming back, and led him upstairs. After hanging his coat in the closet, he simply held my gaze for a few seconds.

“Well, what do you think we can do about this?” he asked. His voice was gentle and concerned, and I couldn't believe my good fortune that he was leaving himself open to me after what I'd said.

“I can't figure out why I'm so worried about everything,” I cried.

“If you'll just tell me what's really bothering you, maybe I can help find a solution. Is it my being gone, or something else?” he asked. “Come on, Elizabeth, please, talk to me.”

I gave it some serious thought as I reached for a tissue.

“It's my fears about where we're headed. All those things I mentioned, I need to know how to deal with them so we can go on.”

“Well, you should just tell me when something happens that you have trouble with. That way maybe I can help. Otherwise, I won't know what's bothering you. What's the main thing?” he asked, and his calm, analytical tone helped settle me down.

When I tried to think with my head instead of my heart, I could see the problem.

“I miss you so much when you're gone. I wish I could be with you all the time, and I know that can never happen. We'll never be coming home after work each night, eating supper, having that normal `togetherness'…”

Sensing my hesitation, he grasped my hand.

“Okay, I understand that, but what else?” His confidence in our relationship encouraged me to state my deepest misgiving.

“I feel funny admitting this, Will,” I said. “I think it's the fact that I'm jealous of those women. They get to be around you when I'm not.”

“But I don't even notice them! You're the only woman I want. Please believe me.”

“I do believe you, Will. I can't believe how I've messed everything up! I wanted today to be special, to show you that I love you. Instead, I caused you to be hurt, and I'm so, so sorry.”

“Today's special anyway, Elizabeth, just because we're together.” He stroked my back, comforting me as I sniffled against him.

“I started on the Pill a month ago, and it was going to be a surprise for you.”

“That's a great surprise!” I could hear the smile in his voice as he began kissing me. “Everything's going to be fine; you didn't mess anything up.”

Putting my arms around his neck, I whispered, “I do love you, Will, and I want to be with you. Make love to me, please; I don't want to waste any more time.”

He held me close, telling me how happy he'd been since he'd met me, how much he loved me, and how he was going to make sure I would never ever be able to live without him.

Responding to him with the same thoughts and feelings, I knew this was worth the risk. I could feel his heart pounding, and my own was fluttering in anticipation. Leading him into the bedroom, I knew that this was one of the best things I would ever do in my life.

I didn't bother to close the curtains, because the snow was falling so thickly that I couldn't see the building across the street.

Will took off his shirt and helped me lift off my sweater. He ran his fingers over the cups of my bra while I undid his belt. I was mesmerized by his touch. We had gone this far before, but I shivered as he caressed me through the sheer material.

When I touched his chest, he raised his arms and flexed his muscles, posing for me.

“Like what you see, Elizabeth? It's all yours, honey! There's something even better down below…,”

His playfulness helped me relax, and he stood still while I took all the time I wanted just to run my fingers over his exposed skin. The hair on his chest was soft and curly, and there was an arrow of hair directing my gaze down to his jeans. I could see the impressive bulge behind his zipper.

He broke out in goose bumps as I touched his nipples, and when I walked behind him to study his back, he groaned, “I'm timing you: you get five minutes, and then I get to touch you.” He was standing ramrod straight, and I teased him a little because I knew I could.

“But I might want to do this for hours, Will…,” I purred against his back while I gently massaged him. “You smell so good, your skin is so smooth…and your muscles! You really keep yourself in great shape.”

This was so different from the other times I had touched him, because I knew that this time I was going to learn the ultimate about him: how he looked naked, how he would feel inside me, and how I would feel when he was inside me.

Still standing behind him, I put my arms around his middle and slowly let my hands drift down his stomach until they reached his waistband. I debated silently with myself: should I go under the material, or stay outside awhile? I decided to prolong my pleasure by keeping something for a surprise.

“Three minutes, Elizabeth.”

He was made of iron, standing there with his hands clenched at his sides. Feeling the tension in him, I was excited by the thought of him wanting me so much. I knew he would be magnificent when he finally lost control.

“Is it okay if I do this for a minute?” I murmured, running my hands down over the material to fondle him while I licked his back. I gripped him, and he jumped in my hands.

“That's it!” he said as he turned in my arms to kiss me. “Now you stand still!”

He reached behind me to unhook my bra while he kissed me. His lips were firm and so perfect, and he tasted like paradise when he licked into my mouth. Now I was the one quivering in anticipation, not knowing what he was going to do.

“So many choices,” he whispered into my ear, as he slid my bra down over my arms.

I was shy in the daylight, but he begged me to let him look, that he'd wanted to see me for so long, and that he'd dreamed about what my breasts would look like. He was gazing down, gently stroking, watching as my nipples contracted. I felt a rush of feeling - such an amazing thing to be so exposed and yet trust him completely.

Unzipping my pants, Will knelt down to pull them off. I lifted each foot to help him and balanced myself with a hand on his shoulder. He stared at my panties and kissed me through them. Running one finger under the elastic, he peeked in a little bit. I wanted to watch what he was doing to me, and when he glanced up, I thought I would faint from the naked desire in his eyes.

He reached up to touch my breasts and then kissed them.

“Mmmm, Elizabeth, you taste so good…” he said, as his tongue came out to stroke me.

“Please, Will, please,” I was begging as he massaged my bottom, so far gone in passion that I didn't know how to ask for what I needed. He was still on his knees, kissing me everywhere he could reach. I held onto his head, trying to draw him up for a kiss.

“I want you, right now,” he pleaded, and it gave me such a sense of power. The realization hit me that he was taking a chance, as much as I was.

When we climbed onto the bed, Will nudged me over so I was on my back. He just looked down at me for a minute and I held my breath, waiting to see what he would do.

“I have imagined what you looked like, but nothing compares to the reality of you like this,” he whispered as he slid off my panties and then took off his briefs.

I reached out to stroke him, to feel him for the first time. My lust had quickly overcome my anxiety and it was exhilarating to know what he had “down below.”

Stretching out beside me, he kissed my breasts, explored my body, and made me feel like a goddess. He acted as if he had all the time in the world, which I imagined he did. He could take hours if he wanted, as long as he kept looking at me like that.

I was amazed at the feel and smell of him: how he took up so much room on my bed, how his chest didn't have a lot of hair, but the hair on his groin was so thick and dark, and how he groaned—such a sound—when I kissed his penis. It felt so right to be naked with him like this.

Before too long I was frustrated and moaning and he was begging to be inside of me. I hoped he would be gentle this first time we were together.

When he said, “I need you...I can't wait another minute!” I was more than ready; then he was lying over me, guiding himself in.

I needed time to adjust, so he held still above me and waited, his breath coming short pants. Sensing how difficult this was for him, I tried to relax.

After a few deep breaths, when I could feel my body easing to accommodate him, I murmured, “I think I'm alright now,” and he began a gentle rhythm.

He was watching me, making me feel connected to him with an intensity I never expected. I thought, “I want him for the rest of my life.”

Trying to find the right pressure, I began to move more quickly. Will was strong, and he controlled the way he moved in me. I could imagine him gauging his thrusts depending on what he thought I needed, and suddenly it was on me: the pleasure building, the anxiousness, the need for release. I cried and called his name, pleading with him to keep going, that I was close, that I needed more.

He wrapped his arms tighter around me and ground himself against me. “I won't stop; I'll never let you go. You are mine!” he said roughly, and then he was in heaven with me and his hips thrust quickly as he finished.

I rested there under him, tried to catch my breath, and listened to Will as he calmed down. It was a revelation to feel the weight of him on me—the knowledge I had of his body as he relaxed.

After the tumultuous last few minutes, I felt his loss when he rolled away. We rested together, needing time to become normal again. Feeling safe and secure, I curled up against him.

He stroked my back, kissed my hair, and sighed, “Ah, Lizzie, Lizzie…I never knew that making love could be so…” He hesitated, wondering with me at the extent of our emotions.

“Yes, Will, that's what I felt, too. It's nice, isn't it?” He grasped me tightly for a moment, and then we relaxed again, certain of our feelings.

We stayed in bed for another hour, talking, petting, and making plans for our future. It was still snowing out, and I will always remember that afternoon as a magical time. Nothing could intrude on our happiness.

As the room darkened, I wondered at how quickly the day had passed, and thought about all that had happened. Eventually we both wanted supper, so I called one of our favorite restaurants to see if it was open. It was, and the owner said we could have our choice of tables. We got dressed and went out to eat, and then trudged back to my place.

The snow was finally easing up, and when we got back inside my apartment Will asked if he could stay the night. Of course I said yes.

Over the next few weeks, Will moved some of his clothes into my closet, and I did the same with my things at his condo. He kept his word; he always answered my concerns and never made me feel silly for having them. As time passed, the security I felt in our relationship helped me overcome my misgivings, and I learned to trust completely. It was a lesson that served me well throughout our marriage.

Valentine's Day


On Valentine's Day, Will and I are going out for dinner. It's become a tradition for us to go to Narcisse, the restaurant where he proposed to me nine years ago, to celebrate this special day.

At four months into my pregnancy, I need a new loose-fitting dress. Will says he loves to see me wear red, so red it is. I don't wear maternity clothes yet, but anything with a waist is too tight. BabyThree is starting to move, and each flutter gives me a rush of emotion. The sex of the baby doesn't really matter, but I'm secretly hoping for a girl this time.

At least the snow has melted and the roads are dry. When Will gets home from work, he'll clean up and be ready to leave by seven o'clock. Our babysitter, Jenny, is coming over in about half an hour to take care of Dan and Nick.

This whole day has been great, starting with the card Will gave me before he left. Flowers arrived this morning, and a phone call from him telling me he loves me rounded out my day. To say Will is a romantic at heart would be an understatement.

Hearing the garage door go up, the boys start calling, “Daddy's home!” to each other. Jockeying for position, each one wants to be the first that he notices when he comes in the door.

I go downstairs to greet him, and he sweeps me up into a hug.

“Who's got the best mom in the world?” Will asks them.

“We do, we do!” they exclaim, and then show him the valentines they made for us that are on the front of the refrigerator.

“Those are great!” he says to them, and to me, “Do I need to get Jenny?”

I tell him that Jenny's mother will bring her in half an hour.

“Okay, let me take a shower and I'll be ready to go when she gets here.”

Nick grabs hold of Will's trousers and says, “Shower, Daddy, shower!”

“Not tonight, buddy,” Will says, as he pats Nick's hair. “We'll do it tomorrow night.”

Following him up the stairs, when we get to the bedroom he grabs me in a quick embrace.

“I don't suppose you can take a shower with me, can you? I can see you've already fixed your hair.” His disappointment's real, which I absolutely love.

After hanging up his suit jacket, I help him unbutton his shirt, and then kiss his chest, just because it's there.

“Mmmm, tomorrow morning, definitely,” I promise him.

While he showers, I get dressed, and when Jenny arrives her mother and I chat for a few minutes. Will comes down in his best blue suit, and after we kiss our sons goodbye we go out to our car.

On the drive downtown, I think back to the first time we went to Narcisse. The night was exceptional, from start to finish. Will has a way of making every day and night special for me.

*******

Will wanted to take me out for a special dinner, but because of a commitment to plan and oversee a party, I couldn't go out on Valentine's Day. He offered to take me out on the day before or the day after. I chose the day after because I knew I could relax and enjoy myself then.

On Feb. 14, Will dropped by during the afternoon so we could spend a little time together, since I had to work starting at four o'clock. He brought me a beautiful bouquet of red roses, and after exchanging romantic cards we had some champagne and caviar.

When he kissed me and stroked my breast, I couldn't stand the thought of letting him go.

“Will, can you please stay a while longer? I want to be with you today.”

“Did you think I wanted to leave without making love with you?” He whispered as he kissed me again.

In bed, we discovered even more pleasure in each other, and as I teetered on the brink of ecstasy, I could barely stand the emotions I was feeling. After the fervor, and the love, he held me close and told me again how much he adored me.

Eventually I had to get ready for work, so he kept me company while I got dressed in my business attire. Leaving my apartment, he kissed me goodbye and wished me success. After he walked away, as I drove to the party, all my thoughts were of Will.

Life was truly more wonderful than I ever could have imagined it being, as every day I fell more deeply in love with him. We had been dating for seven months and the last month had been the best yet, due to our new level of intimacy.

********

The next evening, Feb. 15, I waited restlessly in my apartment for Will to arrive. He was taking me to a new restaurant that had been highly recommended by a friend.

When the intercom beeped, I pushed the button and heard Will's voice.

“Hi, Elizabeth. Are you ready?”

After buzzing him in, I checked out my red spaghetti-strap dress in the mirror, and went out onto the landing to wait for him. As he came up the steps, wearing his tux, he looked so handsome. Giving me a big smile when he saw me, he warmed my heart like always. He could tell how happy I was to see him, too.

Reaching me, he said, “I don't know how you do it, but you look more beautiful every time I see you! That color makes your skin look lovely.”

Ah, compliments…the man was a master, and I loved it when he was so focused on me. He really did make me feel like I was the prettiest woman in the world!

Entering my apartment, he kissed me hello. He was also good at that. Wanting more, he very kindly obliged me. Not caring that I was going to have to redo my lipstick, I laughed when I realized he had some of the color on his lips and face.

“Here, let me help you,” I said, and got a tissue to clean off the lipstick and reapply my own. He was looking at me intently, and I asked, “What?”

“Are you sure you want to wear that necklace tonight?” He reached into his overcoat pocket and took out a blue box. “Maybe you could wear this instead?”

A gift! I opened the box and gasped when I saw the beautiful diamond pendant on a gold chain.

“Oh, Will, this is lovely! Thank you so much!” I removed my necklace and took this one out of its box.

“Do you need help putting it on?”

Giving it to him, he fastened it around my neck. I thought I looked like a princess when I saw myself in the mirror.

“I have never worn anything as exquisite as this, Will. You have wonderful taste!”

“I have good taste in women, too, don't you think?” he smiled, making me glad he felt that way. “We should probably be going. Can I get your jacket?” he asked as he went to the hall closet. He took out my black wool coat and held it open for me; then he kissed me again before we left.

When we went outside, his limo was double-parked in front of my building. After his driver opened the door for us, Will helped me in and then sat close to me, holding my hand. As we cruised through the city streets, I thought about how easy it was to adapt to this luxury.

Pulling up in front of a restaurant called Narcisse, we walked through the entrance, and Will took my coat to the counter to check it.

Escorting me over to the hostess, he said, “Darcy. I have a reservation.”

She led us into the dining room, to a booth that was against the back wall. The table was set with a small bouquet of fresh flowers and beautiful china and crystal.

While Will and I sat next to each other in luxurious comfort, she pointed to the draperies hanging on either side and said, “This is one of our `personal' booths. These curtains can be closed if you would like privacy. Just let your server know what you prefer.”

When the waiter came, we ordered our drinks and then I reached into my clutch to take out a tiny wrapped package.

“This is for you, Will. Happy Valentine's Day.”

“Why, thank you, Elizabeth. Whatever can this be?” he asked, looking eagerly at the gift.

Deciding what to give him had been difficult. What can you give a man who can buy anything he wants? I hoped he would like it.

After unwrapping the present, he just looked at it for a few seconds.

“I don't know what I expected, but you've given me the best gift ever!” he said softly as he held up the set of keys.

The keys to my apartment were on a gold key ring that was engraved with “E and W.”

“This is great! Now I can get in and ravish you anytime I want! No more pretending you're not there when I ring the bell!”

We both smiled, because he knew I would never refuse him. Putting the keys in his pocket, he leaned over to kiss me.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

Our drinks came and we toasted each other. After we ordered dinner, I looked around at the other diners. Everyone was dressed so elegantly and seemed to be having such a good time. I wondered if any other couples were here for a late Valentine's Day celebration.

Each table had a single long-stemmed red rose in a vase. Our table was unlike the others, with its small arrangement.

Pulling the flowers closer to me so I could inhale their scent, I said, “These are different from everyone else's, Will. Did you get these especially for us?”

“Well, I got them for you. Do you like them?”

“Very much,” I said, examining them.

There was a narrow red ribbon tied on one of the stems, and when I looked closer I could see something sparkling in the candlelight. I looked up at him, and the anticipation on his face made my heart pound. He took my hands in his.

“I love you, Elizabeth. I want you to be with me, always. I promise to take care of you, and I'll do the best I can, every day, for you and our family. Will you marry me?” His voice was anxious, but his expression was hopeful.

He was the only man I would ever want, and my heart was bursting with joy. Whatever I'd done in my life to deserve this, I would do even more in the future to keep his love.

Untying the ribbon, I pulled it out of the bouquet. A beautiful diamond and sapphire ring was attached to it. The ribbon fell to the table as I held the ring up to the light.

“My mother wanted me to give that to my wife,” he said.

The emerald-cut diamond shone beautifully, and the sapphires on either side glittered in the candlelight. Taking it from me, he put it on my finger.

“Does it fit? Do you like it?” he asked.

“Will, you are the most wonderful man! Yes! My answer is yes…I want to marry you, too! Forever! This is gorgeous,” I said as I moved my hand back and forth to see it better. “I didn't think anything could be as perfect as the diamond you gave me earlier tonight, but this…! This was your mother's?”

“Yes, my father gave it to her on their tenth anniversary. She wore it all the time after that.”

When he leaned over to kiss me, and it was a lengthy kiss, I thought, “I am the luckiest woman alive!” I held his cheek in my palm as he drew away, appreciating the trouble he had gone to in order to arrange this.

His loving display in full view of the other diners surprised me, but he seemed content to sit against the backrest, holding my hand and looking at the ring until our dinner came. We talked about the future and how soon we could get married.

“Next month?” Will suggested. His eagerness was infectious.

“May?” I countered, thinking I must be out of my mind to try to organize it so quickly. “We could do it in May…”

“I know it takes a lot of work to put a wedding together, but I don't want to waste any time,” he said.

“I don't want to wait either...Alright, May it is. We can do this—I have connections!” My job was certainly going to come in handy, and the thought of the two of us planning our own wedding was exciting!

Knowing the only place I had toured overseas was London, he asked me where I wanted to go for our honeymoon. I'd been too busy earning and saving money to splurge on vacations. I said Paris or Rome, or anyplace else he loved would be fine with me.

On the subject of children, I told him I'd like to wait a year or two so we could have time to ourselves. Will agreed, hoping that I might be able to go on some of his trips after we were married.

We began eating, and my filet mignon was delicious.

Studying him, I marveled that I didn't know him at all ten months ago. I especially didn't know his sense of humor, or how quickly he could shed his business persona and relax.

There were some other things that I didn't even know until the last month: how easily I could make him moan by kissing his chest, how he would gasp and beg when I kissed his “treasure trail” down over his belly, how his morning beard felt on my thighs, or how deep his voice became when he called me “Lizzie” as we made love.

When he looked at me with his eyes showing his desire, I said, “I wish we could pull these curtains closed so I could climb onto your lap, Will.”

His voice was low when he said, “I don't think that would work for me, Elizabeth. Tonight I'm going to want hours of you.”

He took my breath away! I studied him seriously for a minute, imagined what might be in store for me later, and then tried to lighten the mood before I burst into flames.

“Is that a deejay?” I asked, seeing someone moving onto the small stage. “Can we dance?”

Will was a very good dancer, with a natural rhythm that I knew also came in handy for other things. He truly was a man of many talents.

“Yes, I want to dance with you tonight. Should we have dessert a little later?”

When the waiter came back, Will ordered the chocolate soufflé, and as the music began he took my hand and led me to the dance floor.

People were whispering as we walked past:

“Isn't that Darcy?” “Who's that with him?” “He's so handsome in person!” “Look at that necklace!” and “God, he's a dream in that tux!”

Dancing along with everyone else, we had a great time. At one point Will excused himself to talk to the deejay, and when he came back he said, “I made a request.”

Before the next song started, the deejay announced, “Please congratulate William and Elizabeth. They just became engaged! This song is for them.”

Will waved at the room, the crowd applauded, and some of the men shook his hand. The song started, and Will took me into his arms:


It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart
Without saying a word, you can light up the dark
Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall
And you say it best, when you say nothing at all

All day long I can hear people talking out loud
But when you hold me near, you drown out the crowd
Old Mister Webster could never define
What's being said between your heart and mine

The smile on your face lets me know that you need me
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me if ever I fall
And you say it best, when you say nothing at all


We danced slowly, surrounded by the other couples, but it felt like we were in our own little world. His arms were around me, and he bent his head down low so our cheeks could touch. I was amazed that he had brought this attention to us.

When I mentioned it to him, he said, “I want everyone to know you're mine. You've made me so happy, Elizabeth.”

“I'll remember this night for the rest of my life, Will. I love you.”

When he kissed me, the other dancers began cheering and clapping again. After the song ended, as he led me back to our table, we were stopped along the way by other well-wishers.

Our soufflé was delicious, but after we had coffee, I was ready to leave. Wanting to have him all to myself, I'd had enough of other people's scrutiny.

“No more sharing,” I thought.

“Can we go home, Will?” I asked. “I want to dance with you in private.”

The look he gave me made desire pool low in my belly.

He waved to the waiter and paid the check, called his driver to tell him we were ready to leave, and then got our coats and hustled me out of there.

As we approached the limo, Will told the chauffeur, “Congratulate us! We're getting married!” The driver shook Will's hand and offered me a wish of happiness.

On the ride back, Will kissed me and kissed me until I sagged against him with unrequited lust. He sent his driver on his way and used his new keys to open the entry doors and then my apartment.

Shrugging off my coat, I said, “I lied to you before, Will. I don't really want to dance. I want to make love with you.”

While I was speaking, he led me to the bedroom, and he didn't need any more encouragement. It was only moments before we were naked, and as he began making love to me he whispered, “Forever, Elizabeth. I'll love you forever,” and then he showed me: with tenderness, passion, and so much emotion, I could hardly bear it.

“I can't believe you're mine!” I cried with joy, knowing that this was so right; that I would have him with me for the rest of my life.

*******

Approaching the restaurant, I think about how much I enjoy this yearly tradition. Narcisse is still the same, and we always ask if “our” waiter and “our” booth are available.

Once I even asked that the draperies around our booth be closed, and I gave Will a “special treat” that night. He refers to that interlude as the best—and only—sex in a public place he ever had. I was so turned on by my own brazenness, with the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes and silverware all around us, that I thought I would spontaneously combust along with him!

“Showers me with jewels” is a familiar term used in books or movies. It's my reality now, because every Valentine's Day—or as close as we can get—he has given me something wonderful at Narcisse: a ring with two opals representing our two children, bracelets, earrings, a diamond hair clip, and a gold ring engraved “Five Years Together” on the fifth anniversary of our engagement. There are always special flowers on the table, too.

Some people might not think these things mean all that much, because he's so wealthy. I could have anything I want, but the time and effort he puts in is not something money can buy. He tells me I'm worth it, but it's his love that makes me want to be worth it.

LYDIA'S CHILDCARE WOES


Tuesday morning


My sister Jane calls with a big problem. Lydia wants to go back to work and she's asked Jane to baby-sit full time for her two preschool-age daughters.

“Why did she ask you, Jane?”

“She's been investigating daycare near her house, and she doesn't like the facilities.”

“Did you ask her why?”

“She says there are too many kids there, and she's afraid they won't get good care,” Jane explains.

I chuckle, “Come on! Lydia is suddenly worried about how her children are taken care of? If Mom didn't have them over, they'd probably never even get a bath!”

“Yes, I know, but what if she's right? I worry so much about them anyway. Maybe it would be best if I helped her out.”

“Don't get sucked in if you don't want to do it. Have you talked to Charles about this?” Hopefully, Charles will be her salvation.

“No, I was going to talk to him when he gets home.”

“Well, do you want to take care of them? Permanently?” I ask.

“Not really, but how can I say `no' to her?”

“You just say `NO'! If you don't want to, then that's your answer. `No' is a complete sentence,” I encourage her.

After we hang up, I wonder if she can live with herself if she doesn't help with Lydia's girls. Jane has such a kind heart, but she easily gets taken advantage of because of it.

This day is going to be a long one, because once Lydia gets started, she's not happy until everyone is involved in her problem.

Sometimes Tiffany and Amber come here to spend the night. They're very spirited, and I like to see them enjoying themselves. Since I don't have a daughter, I like to spoil them with “girly” things, like nail polish and hair clips. They are always polite, and grateful for any little thing I do for them.

Maybe I just expect better behavior from them when they are here, since they know we have “rules.” Even when I give them small jobs like putting the toys away or emptying wastebaskets, they're happy to help out.

While Nick's playing at a neighbor's house, I use the next hour to nap. My belly is getting bigger by the day, and I relish each little bit of time I can steal for myself before BabyThree comes.



Later Tuesday morning

My mother calls, upset about being told she needs to become a full time babysitter.

“Why did she ask you, Mom?”

“She said Jane can't help her, and Lydia really wants to get a job and get out of the house. Since the girls are usually here a couple mornings a week, Lydia doesn't think it will be hard for me to have them here longer.”

“What about daycare? Isn't there one near where she lives?” I remind her.

“Oh, but she'd have to pay for that! She doesn't want to do that! Then she wouldn't have as much money from working!”

“You mean she didn't offer to pay Jane either?” I can't believe the way Lydia tries to take advantage of everyone. She could have made the offer, even though I'm sure Mom and Jane wouldn't take anything.

“Well, you know, Lydia and George don't have any extra money, but I don't think I can help her. Those two girls of hers are a couple of wild ones, like you were when you were young, Lizzie,” she complains. “I don't think I have the energy to keep up with them.”

“She should be grateful for what you've already done for her and her daughters, and not impose on you for more.”

“But what if she gets mad at me if I don't help her? What if she won't let me see the girls at all?” my mother worries.

“Well, if that's what you're concerned about, you'll never be able to say no to her. Anyway, Lydia needs you because of the help you give her so it's doubtful she would ever keep her girls from you, but don't get roped into something you don't want to do, Mom.”

“I'll think about it, but how can I say `no'?”

“You just say the words, and stay firm,” I encourage her.

Hanging up the phone, I make the decision to check out the daycare centers near Lydia's and see if any of them look good. I'll wait a few days to see how this plays out, and I can offer to pay for the childcare if Lydia is truly intent on getting a job. That would help Jane, my mother, and Lydia.

Nick and I eat lunch, and I put him down for his nap.



Tuesday afternoon

Mary calls from New York, and says, “Lydia called me, crying, and she says everyone's against her. What's going on?”

“She doesn't want to pay for daycare and Mom and Jane don't want to do it for any amount of money,” I inform her.

“What? Lydia wants to go to work? I can't believe it! How on earth does she think she can handle a job?” Mary wonders at Lydia's daydream.

“You're asking me? All I've been told is that she wants to go back to work, and she doesn't trust the daycare center near her house.”

“Hmmm, all I can say is that I'm glad I'm not close enough for her to ask me. She can be very persuasive, you know.”

I know.

“She seems very adept at being able to make everyone else responsible for her girls.”

“Well, I hope you can keep Mom and Jane from doing something they'll regret,” Mary responds.

“I've pretty much done what I can, already. If they can't say no, then I'll see if there's anything I can do to help.”

“Okay, well, at least they have you telling them that much. Talk to you later,” she says, hanging up.

It's hard to know where to draw the line between concern and interference. I'm still going to wait a couple days to see if anything changes. I don't want to impose my standards on Lydia, because she can parent however she wants, but my concern is for her two little girls.

Dan will be home from school in a few minutes, so I call Nick to help me make a snack for the two of them. I also get out the chicken I'm going to prepare for supper, and straighten up the house before Will comes home.



Later Tuesday afternoon

Kitty calls from Indianapolis, “Lydia says everybody hates her and her daughters, and you all hate George. What's up?”

I explain the problem—again—and Kitty says, “She didn't say anything about that. All she did was cry and say George is forcing her to go to work if she wants a new couch and TV. She doesn't think it's fair that Mom has all kinds of free time and Jane stays home and neither one of them will help her out.”

“Oh, so now George is forcing her to work? Her story changes every five minutes! Doesn't she think we talk to each other?”

“I didn't give her any advice, since I was sure she wasn't telling me the whole truth. The part about George I believed, but the rest of it seemed just like Lydia playing everyone against each other.”

Kitty's had a hard time of it, wanting to be close to Lydia but growing distant from her as she lives her own life, and I'm glad she's away from Lydia's influence.

I tell Kitty thanks for letting me know what's going on and get off the phone. If I don't hear from my family for a week, it will be just fine.

As Dan and Nick are busy at the table, I think about how blessed I am to have a good husband and security for my children. They have advantages, but mostly what we have is the love of a wonderful man, whose first priority is taking care of us.

I look at the homework Dan has completed, and then read a story to them. I'm enjoying this little bit of quiet time with my two boys, and they ask if they can watch a TV show when we're through.



Tuesday evening

Jane calls again. “Well, it looks like Mom and I are going to take care of Lydia's daughters. We can divide it up so Mom does it three days a week and I do the other two. We both feel like we should help, and if Lydia really wants to get a job, then that's a positive thing, right?”

“If you and Mom feel comfortable doing it that way, go for it,” I tell her.

“It seems like the only way, so we won't worry about the girls,” Jane admits.

“I'm sure Lydia appreciates it.” I hope for all their sakes that Lydia will appreciate it!

“I'm going to look into the daycare centers tomorrow,” I think. The garage door goes up, so I know Will is home. Sanity!



Later Tuesday evening

Will and I are relaxing after dinner, our feet up on the coffee table, eating apple pie.

“I notice Lydia didn't call you,” Will observes.

“Well, I'm farther away than Mom and Jane, plus she knows that I think she and George should work out their own problems,” I remind him. “There are a few daycare centers near her house, and I'm going to start investigating them tomorrow. If I can find one that Lydia approves of, I'll pay for it so Jane and Mom don't have to give up their time. I'm glad you started those college funds for her girls, though. They'll need it when the time comes.”

“I've often wondered why George got married at all. He never seemed like a man who wanted to be tied down, and neither one of them are happy. Her daughters are a couple of spitfires, though, aren't they?” Will grins.

“Now you know what Lydia was like, as a child. She's getting a taste of what she put us all through when she was young.”

Will puts his plate down and hugs me. “I'm just glad I ended up with the best sister.”

“Thanks, but I can't help but worry about Lydia's girls, though,” I sigh. “She seems to muddle through, day by day, and George seems satisfied with how his daughters are being raised.”

Feeling baby start to move, I set my plate on my belly, and we watch it bounce up and down for a few minutes. “I think I've got a football player in here, just like the last two!”

The phone rings, and Will grabs my arm.

“Please don't answer it!” he begs.

We wait for the answer machine to pick up, and hear my father's voice.

“Hi Elizabeth, Will. How are the kids? Just wanted to tell you that I decided to give a disbursement during July; I'll let you know when we send the checks out. Love you!”

We both think about the message for a few minutes, and shake our heads over it.

“So, Lydia isn't going to have to go to work after all,” I observe. “I can't believe my mom talked Dad into doing this again. He's said he wants us to give us part of our inheritance while he's still alive, but I'm afraid they're going to run short eventually.”

“If that's ever the case, you know we can help your parents. Financially, I mean. But please don't ever ask to let them live with us!” He has a look of horror on his face.

“You'd just about have to consider me insane to live with my mother,” I reassure him. “Having them two hours away is close enough.”

After watching the late news, we check on the kids, and walk into our bedroom. It's a nice way to end the day: no drama here, no pressing problems, just a quiet contentment that we both enjoy.

SHOWER TIME


I promised Will that I'd make myself available this afternoon to “wash his back.” Dan's at a birthday party for a couple of hours, and Will is putting Nick down for his nap.

Waiting in the bedroom for Will to join me, I look at my dresser to see my favorite pictures of the three men in my life. The photos are framed together, with the top one showing Will as he's sitting in the bathtub holding a tiny Nick. Dan is about three years old, and is spraying his dad with a squirt gun; all three of them are smiling at me as I take their picture. The other picture is one I took within the last few months, and it shows the three of them standing in our shower, their naked posteriors on display, arms raised, each shampooing their own hair. Big, medium, small.

*******

We stayed overnight with my mother and father last Thanksgiving. While sitting at my parents' dinner table, Dan asked his burning question: “Can we take a shower here at Grandma's, Daddy?”

Before Will could answer, my mother said, “Of course you can take a shower here, Dan. You know the bathroom is upstairs.”

“No, Grandma, I mean together. Nick and Daddy and me. Your shower is small.”

With my mother's horrified exclamation at the thought of children seeing their parents naked, Dan looked at her and stated, “We're all men, Grandma. Daddy is a big man and we're the little men. We all have the same parts, just like every other man, and we have to keep our whole selves clean.”

Will barked out a laugh and tried to cover it by coughing into his napkin, while reaching over to ruffle Dan's hair. Rolling my eyes at Will, he knew he was going to owe me big-time when I was through explaining this to my mother, who looked like she was going to faint.

My father winked at me, and our meal continued. I told my dad years ago that this was something Will did with our sons and he said, “Maybe I could have done that if I'd had a son, but I don't think we should tell your mother about Will and your boys. She's so…sensitive, you know?”

My sisters and mother cornered me later and peppered me with questions: “Do they do it naked, really?” “Aren't you worried that they would take their clothes off in front of just anybody?” “What if a stranger asks them to take their clothes off? Would they do it?”

My mother was the most unpleasant of all. “Isn't that perverted?” she asked, always expecting the worst. “How can you allow it? What if you have a daughter?”

I explained that Will always told them this was only something to do with him, that if any other adults asked them to take their clothes off they should never do it, and they needed to tell their dad or me immediately.

Most of all, “No, I don't think it's perverted, Mom. Be very careful what you say about Will. If we have a daughter, I will probably bathe with her, just us girls. I'd want a daughter to feel comfortable with her body, and mine.”

*******

This little tradition started when Dan was a baby. Once a week or so, Will would take a bath with Dan. He would fill the tub, strip down, undress the baby, and climb into the tub with him. I would make sure Will had the baby shampoo, and then leave them alone.

As Dan got bigger, Will started taking showers with him. When we had Nick, it was back into the tub until Nick could stand reliably on his own. Will installed grab bars on both sides of our shower in case one of the boys needed them for support.

He said if we have another son he's going to move bath time into the big tub in our bathroom.

I liked the way Will taught them the proper words for their body parts and that the boys seemed unfazed by their, and their father's, nudity. Also, I appreciated the fact that our sons were being raised to think their bodies were normal and that being nude was okay—at times.

********

As I grew up, my mother never talked to my sisters and me about anything to do with our bodies, except the old “always wear clean underwear, you never know if you're going to be in an accident” sermon. Until I reached adolescence, and became friends with the older sister of one of my girlfriends, I was fairly innocent. Jane was a year older than I was, but knew even less than I did.

When Ginny started explaining things to Katie, Jane, and me when I turned twelve, I didn't really believe her. The thought of my parents doing that was repulsive, mainly because I didn't think my parents even liked each other. Thank God I had Ginny to talk to when my period started!

Over the next few years, Ginny was also a font of information regarding tampons, condoms, pregnancy, sexually transmitted diseases, and anything else we wanted to know. I realize now that some of the “words of wisdom” she shared weren't quite the way things really were, but her advice, especially about the mechanics, was invaluable.

As I got older, I observed the warm relationship between my favorite aunt and uncle. I could begin to imagine a married type of love that had the physical aspect as something that added to a marriage, drew the partners closer, and kept them connected through the turmoil of life.

Years later, I asked Ginny if her information was based on any personal experience, and she said, “Are you kidding? Most of what I told you was stuff I heard from girlfriends or read in my Mom's magazines. I was as innocent as you three were!”

I told her how much it helped to know there was someone I could talk to and that she made me feel that no question was too stupid to ask. After scouring books for the information I wanted to know, I asked her things that I couldn't find or was too embarrassed to inquire about at the library or in Health class.

When I began dating in earnest, evaluating husband material, there were no men who seemed focused on anything other than getting laid. It was a big disappointment to find out that my possible Prince Charmings were merely frogs.

In my early twenties, I had sex with my only serious boyfriend, but then he met someone else and broke up with me. After that experience, I didn't date much, and I didn't have much hope because I had a long list of what I didn't want. I wondered if Mr. Right would ever come along.

Fortunately, I wasn't involved with anyone else when I met Will. I was free to decide to go out with him, and the way he behaved with me made me realize the difference between boys and men. Will treated me with kindness and respect, and he let things develop naturally. There was no need to rush, just time to get acquainted and learn about each other. He called when he said he would, showed up when he said he would, and didn't ever break a date with me because something “came up.” He also listened to me and didn't agree with me just because he thought he could get lucky that way. He also was generous with his lovemaking and saw the benefit of making sure I got as much pleasure out of it as he did.

*******

Will comes into our bedroom and says, “Finally! I didn't think Nick would ever go to sleep!” Seeing me looking at the pictures, he reminds me of the ruckus last Thanksgiving, and laughs about it.

I'm already in my robe, so he takes his clothes off and we go into our bathroom. He steps into the shower to turn on the hot water and then hangs up my robe as we wait a minute for the heat to come. When we go in, I sit on the bench so I can shave my legs while he soaps up and washes his hair, and then I go under the spray with him and he helps me wash.

BabyThree is due in about six weeks, so my belly's starting to get in the way of normal activities. Will rests his hands over my stomach for a while so he can feel the baby move, and kisses me. His touch is a balm to my soul.

“Your breasts seem to get bigger every day,” he whispers, telling me how much he loves my pregnancy breasts and that they're a huge turn-on for him.

He motions for me to sit on the bench so he can wash my feet. As he kneels before me and lifts my leg, I stroke the curls away from his forehead. He finds the places to massage on my foot that send a flush of sensation to the part of me that's yearning for him.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me.

When Will lifts my other foot, I see him gaze between my legs. He's rubbing my arch, but his focus is elsewhere. Looking up at me, the heat in his eyes makes my insides quiver with longing.

“Will…?”

“What do you want, Elizabeth? What can I do for you?”

Letting my head loll back against the tile wall, I close my eyes. His breath is warm on my leg, and when I moan he begins kissing the inside of my thighs.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs. I know how much it arouses him to hear me say it.

“Your mouth, on me, there,” I gasp, as he obliges me.

He uses his lips and tongue, and when he inserts a finger and begins to stimulate me from inside, it's the best feeling ever, as if he can read my mind. Playing in the moistness, he stirs my passion with a gentleness I appreciate. He's watching me, judging how much more I need, listening for the little sounds and pants I make, reading me as he always does, and letting me know that he knows me.

I want to watch him but my eyes keep closing with concentration. My every thought is “More, more, yes, there, yes,” and when I beg him, “Don't stop, please don't stop!”, he says hoarsely, “I'll never stop, Lizzie, you know I won't…”

When I finally—after what seems like forever—reach my peak, he moves up to hold me and kiss me. Reaching down, I stroke his erection and urge him to stand. As I take him into my mouth, he braces his hands against the wall above me.

Concentrating on him, I need to give him the same pleasure he gave me. I'll do whatever it takes: mouth, teeth, tongue, hands, words, anything to show him how much I enjoy doing this for him.

It doesn't take him long to surrender to my ministrations, and when the turmoil is over, he sits beside me on the bench and lifts me onto his lap. We kiss and caress while relaxing against each other.

With the steam swirling around us, I reach up to turn the water off.

In the quiet that follows, Will says, “Christ, I needed that. You okay?”

“Mmmm, I'm fine. That was wonderful—I'm so relaxed I could take a nap, I think.”

In the afterglow of lovemaking, my body's satisfied and pulsing with contentment.

“There's more than an hour before Dan comes home and Nick wakes up. You should rest now if you can,” Will suggests, knowing I don't sleep well because BabyThree's very active. “I'll take care of things here.”

Going into the bedroom, I pull on a nightgown and climb into bed. Will joins me, and as I drift off he rubs my back, low down where he knows it gets achy during the last month of my pregnancy.

Drifting off, I murmur, “I love you, Will.”

“Love you, too, honey,” he says as I fall asleep.

MEETING MISS DARCY

During the last week of June, Will's sister Georgie arrives to help us get ready for BabyThree. She teaches middle-school English and is on her summer vacation. Her husband, Matt, will fly out for a long weekend while she's staying with us. It's a treat for all of us to have her here, and I'm so grateful for her help.

Will's going to be working from his home office, so he'll be here most of the time once the baby arrives. If everything goes according to schedule, I'll have the c-section next week, be a few days in the hospital, and then come home. That first week could be tough, but with Georgie helping take care of Dan and Nick, I can concentrate on the new baby and get plenty of rest.

I've been on a cooking spree lately, so our freezer's filled with some of my favorites for when we come home from the hospital. Will says I'm in “nesting mode,” and he's probably right.

My final doctor's appointment is this afternoon. Her office is in the professional building next to the hospital, which makes it very easy if I need to get a blood test, x-ray, etc.

I've been feeling great during this pregnancy, no problems at all. Sometimes my feet and ankles get swollen, but that's normal for me during the last month. Since I'm just as big as I was the previous times, and with only a week to go, I'm fairly certain we'll have another son.

Having decided not to have any more children after this, my doctor knows that I want a tubal ligation after this delivery.

Will and I chose the “rooming in” option for my hospital stay, so the baby can be in the room with us for as long as we're there. It worked out well both times before, but I always feel sorry for Will. How he manages to sleep anywhere he lands amazes me. He told me that since the fraternity house at Harvard, and then his job, he can sleep any time he needs to, no matter what is going on.

*******

After dropping me off in front of my doctor's office, Will goes to park the car. Turning to go inside, I trip on the curb, and fall down onto the pavement.

Thinking, “Boy, that hurts,” I rub my hip. Will's running to me, and I feel a strange pain in my abdomen.

“Elizabeth, what happened? Jesus, don't try to move!” he shouts as he runs into the office.

I feel so drowsy and very warm all of a sudden. Knowing I'm about to pass out, I pray for the baby to be all right.

Vision fading, I can hardly see the nurse hurrying back with him, while he's yelling, “Where's the ambulance? She's bleeding! Hurry, please hurry!”

He kneels next to me and grips my hand. “Don't worry, Lizzie, you're going to be fine. Help is coming.”

The nurse says into her cell phone, “…and there's a positive sole sign. She will come directly to the operating room… Elizabeth Darcy. ”

“Will? I think I'm in labor…” I hear a siren, and then lose consciousness.

*******

There's a beeping in my head, and I want it to stop so I can go back to sleep. Struggling to fight through the haze, I open my eyes a little, and when I move my hand a tiny bit, Will's face comes into focus.

He says, concerned, “Lizzie? Are you in any pain?” Closing my eyes, I drift off again, no pain…

*******

Suddenly awake, I'm able to determine that the hospital room is blue, and quiet. Will's standing with his back to me, and when I say his name, he turns around. He's cradling our baby against his chest, but I can't see anything except the tiny baby bottle he's holding.

“Hey, Elizabeth, look who's here…” he smiles as he bends down so I can see a little face surrounded by dark curly hair. “...we have a girl, Sweetheart! You did great!”

He leans further to kiss my lips, and then he presses the call button.

A girl, I think happily, my brain barely able to grasp the thought. As I look at our baby, I can't believe we have a daughter!

“She…okay?”

“Perfect, absolutely perfect. How do you feel? They can give you more pain meds if you need them.”

“What happened?” Whispering because my throat is dry, I point at the plastic cup.

After Will hands me the cup with ice chips in it, I manage to get a few pieces into my mouth.

“When you fell, the placenta separated, and you needed emergency surgery. Your doctor was fantastic; she had the baby out in a matter of minutes.”

“What are you feeding her?” The ice tastes delicious, so I have some more.

“This is sugar water. They said she'll be able to nurse as soon as you're fully awake,” Will says, jiggling the baby bottle a little. He gently sits down on my bed so I can watch my little girl as she drinks.

“What time is it?” I ask, reaching to move the soft flannel blanket so I can see more of our baby. She's pink and wrinkled, and making those soft “newborn” sounds.

“About seven at night. You've been asleep for a few hours.”

“Does she look like a `Rose'? Have you seen all of her?”

“Well, I've been calling her Rose, and I think she likes it. I've changed her twice, and everything I see of her is perfect. Ten fingers, ten toes. You don't have to worry.”

Coming in, the nurse starts her routine: pulse, blood pressure, checking on the IV, and asks if I'm having pain.

“No pain, but I think I need to sleep some more,” I tell her.

“Go to sleep, Elizabeth. I'll be right here,” Will says.

*******

When I wake again it's ten o'clock. Will's sleeping in a chair next to me with his head on my bed, and I can touch his hair. After pressing the call button, I crane my neck to see into the bassinet. Sleeping on her side, Rose is content, lips moving: absolutely beautiful.

Will starts to wake up, and I run my fingers through his curls, massaging his head. Opening his eyes, still sleepy, he asks, “You awake now?”

“Yes, and I need the nurse.” Pressing the call button, I ring for assistance, and then reach down to rub his whiskers, thinking that the day has turned out so different from what we expected. It's hard for me to believe that I'm here, and our baby has been born.

When the nurse bustles in she says, “So, Elizabeth, how're you doing? You have a beautiful baby,” and begins to check my vitals again.

When I tell her the catheter is bothering me, she says it needs to stay in until the morning, and then I'll be able to get out of bed.

“I can take out your IV, though, after you try to eat something. How about some crackers and jello? If you tolerate that, and can drink something, I'll take the IV out tonight. Remember to drink plenty of fluids for your milk production.”

The pain is starting again, so she nods and says, “I can take care of that for you right away. Let me see what your doctor prescribed.”

I ask about nursing the baby when she wakes up.

“No problem, honey. You can raise the head of your bed if it's more comfortable, and you don't have to worry about the pain medication affecting your baby. Do you want me to help you get started? Just call me when your baby wakes up.”

Will sits up, stretching and yawning. Exchanging a look with him, I know he can help me; we've been through this before. I thank the nurse and tell her we can handle it.

She comes back several minutes later with my medication, and I swallow the pill with a sip of water.

“I'll be back in about fifteen minutes with your food,” she says as she leaves.

Will closes the door after her, and we just gaze at each other for a minute.

“It's a miracle,” I reflect, looking at our baby girl. “How are the boys? Did you tell them they have a sister?”

“I called Georgie as soon as you were out of surgery. She couldn't believe it; she thought we were still at the doctor's office! I talked to Dan and Nick and told them you were sleeping,” he says. “She'll bring them over for a visit tomorrow morning. I also called our family and friends whose numbers I had.”

“So what happened? I don't remember anything except tripping outside the doctor's office.”

“When I saw that you'd fallen, I went inside and got the nurse. Someone from the office called an ambulance and the doctor said she'd meet us in the emergency room. The paramedics got there right away, and it was just minutes until they brought you up here for the c-section.”

“Were you there for the birth?”

“No, they wouldn't let me in because you had to be put to sleep. There was no time to wait for an epidural. Longest ten minutes of my life, I can tell you, until the one of the nurses came out and told me the baby was fine and they were taking good care of you.”

Rose begins to whimper, and I can see her wiggling around in her wrapping.

Will turns to check her diaper, and chuckles, “I forgot how much a newborn tries to stay all curled up. I can hardly get the diaper fastened around her because she doesn't want to straighten her legs!”

I raise the head of my bed so I can sit up a little bit. The IV line is on my left arm, so it isn't in my way.

Opening my gown, I get ready to hold my daughter for the first time. Will lays her against me, and he puts his arm under mine to support her weight so she doesn't lay on my incision.

“Is this okay? Not hurting you?” he asks, and when he sees I can hold her with no trouble, he turns to pull the chair closer to the bed.

After I inhale her scent and kiss her a few times, she begins rooting around so I guide my nipple to her mouth. She latches on fully and begins to suck. Such a powerful mouth and tongue, our Rose has, and I glance up to see Will's rapt attention on her. We both watch our daughter as she takes nourishment from my body for the first time.

The pain pill is working, so I relax and enjoy this experience. Will rests his head against my shoulder; we are both enthralled with our new little angel.

Rose has had enough after only a short time, so I burp her and then watch her sleep. She feels so warm against me, and I know I will cherish these first few minutes forever. Gently undoing her wrap, I examine all of her: tiny arms and legs, fingers and toes, wrinkled neck, the umbilical clamp, and all of her soft baby skin.

There's a soft knock, and then, “Elizabeth?”

My doctor, who's making her final rounds of the evening, pokes her head around the door and then comes in.

Smiling, she says, “Well, you sure surprised me today. How are you all doing?” She studies the baby, “Even after all this time, it's still a thrill for me.”

While wrapping Rose back up, I chat with my doctor. She stays for several minutes, checks my incision, and asks if I need anything.

“The tubal ligation is done, and you shouldn't have any problems from that. The sleep chair should be delivered in the next half hour or so,” she says, telling me she'll come back again in the morning.

As the doctor leaves, the nurse arrives with a tray of food.

“Here you go, Elizabeth. See how much you can eat, and I can get you more in an hour if you want.”

She turns to Will. “Mr. Darcy, I brought you a turkey sandwich and some chips. I didn't know if you were hungry.”

Thanking her with a smile, Will says, “Yes, I am hungry. I didn't feel like it before, but I can definitely eat now.”

After she leaves, he puts Rose into her bassinet, and we eat our food. The quiet in the room is soothing, just the three of us here, at the end of what turned out to be a very surprising day.

Another knock sounds on the door; the chair, pillow, and blanket for Will are brought into the room. Pushing the chair next to the wall, Will releases the back so it can lay flat. It's a comfort to know he's here with me, and when Rose wakes up, he'll let me know.

After brushing his teeth with the supplies the nurse left for him, he kisses me and turns out the light. I can hear him settling in the dark, positioning his pillow, covering himself with the blanket.

“Need anything, honey?” he asks.

I'm already halfway to sleep, and can't say much except, “Love you, Will. Thanks for taking care of me today.”

“No problem, Elizabeth,” and then softly, “God, I can't believe it! A daughter…”

*******

The sun is coming through the drapes, and Will is sound asleep, snoring. I've been woken several times during the night, sometimes by a nurse checking on me—once thankfully to take the IV out of my arm—and a few times with Will telling me Rose needed to eat. Letting him sleep, I press the button to call the nurse.

When the nurse comes in, she sees Will and Rose both sleeping, and whispers, “What can I do for you, Elizabeth?”

“Any chance I can get the catheter taken out? It's really bothering me.”

She tells me she'll see what she can do and asks if I'm in pain. I tell her there is some pain, a five on a scale of ten, and she says she'll get me something for it. I'm also hungry, and wonder when breakfast is coming.

When she returns, she takes out the catheter and checks the incision. Even with the light turned on in the room, Will and Rose sleep through the procedures.

After helping me sit on the edge of the bed so I can dangle my feet over the side, she says, “You'll have to get up from now on when you need to use the bathroom. Do you want to try to get up with my help?”

“Sure, but I don't think I can go very far.”

As I stand for the first time, clutching my abdomen, I can't believe how unsteady I feel; my first steps are shaky. We walk slowly to the bathroom in my room and back to the bed, about ten paces total. She cautions me never to get up alone and to always call for help. I let her know that I understand, and my husband will stay here and he can help me.

She looks over at him, shakes her head, and says, “Funny how they can sleep through anything, isn't it? It's us moms who have to do the getting up.”

“Well, this dad's been getting up all night, and he'll be taking care of us at home,” I say, letting her know how much I can count on Will.

Just as I finish speaking, Rose lets out a cry and Will begins to stir; he struggles to sit as I tell him, “Try to go back to sleep, Will. The nurse is here with me.”

He lies back down and asks, “Are you okay?” as he pulls the blanket over his shoulders.

I tell him I'm doing fine and that the nurse will help me with Rose.

After changing the baby, she hands her to me. Rose nurses eagerly; each time she's awake a little longer. My strength is coming back, and holding her close is a pleasure. As she suckles, the strength of the connection I feel amazes me, as it did with our previous children. The letting down of my milk, the pulling sensation, the act of feeding my daughter, fills my heart with joy once again.

“Ring for me when your baby's done nursing, and I'll come back to put her in her bassinet,” the nurse says.

“I can do it,” Will says. “I'm awake now.”

“Okay, Mr. Darcy, call me if you need me.”

My stomach growls, and I hope my breakfast is coming soon. During the night I filled out the menu for today, and for breakfast I chose an assortment of food: eggs, toast, fruit, a muffin, and tea, all which should be arriving shortly.

While Will's in the bathroom, breakfast is delivered. Rose is done feeding, and after she burps, Will puts her into the bassinet. I give him the muffin from my tray, and he shares the fruit with me. It's very tasty for hospital food, but not up to what I can make at home.

“Want to sneak in a piece of grilled salmon for me later?” I suggest, joking with him.

“Or a pizza?” he asks, knowing one of my weaknesses.

The doctor comes in to check on me, does a quick examination, and tells me that if everything goes according to plan I can go home the day after tomorrow.

Later in the morning, Georgie brings Dan and Nick. They ooh and aah over the baby, and Dan is surprised by how small she is. I hug them all, and Nick climbs up on the bed to sit closer to me. Will chats with them for a few minutes and then goes home to shave, shower, and change clothes. Georgie says they'll stay until he returns.

Dan stands next to the bassinet, curious, and I tell him, “It's okay, go ahead and touch her.”

He tentatively puts a finger on her cheek, whispering “Rose,” and she instinctively turns her head toward him. He takes his finger away, and Rose starts crying. He looks to me, thinking he has done something wrong, but I let him know everything is okay.

“She's noisy!” he exclaims, and obviously doesn't remember when Nick was a baby.

Georgie picks her up, and Rose immediately quiets. “All she wanted was some attention,” she tells Dan.

“Will she cry again when you put her down?” he frowns.

“Not if she's sleeping,” Georgie tells him.

Nick gets down from my bed and whispers something to Georgie.

She says, “Thanks for reminding me. Look what the boys brought!” and then hands Dan and Nick something from her bag.

They've made cards for the baby! I exclaim over them, complimenting their printing and drawing. I promise to read them to Rose when she wakes up. Georgie tacks them to the bulletin board so everyone can view them.

It's wonderful to have my three children here with me.

*******

Two days later I'm sharing the rear seat of our car with Rose, who is in her baby seat. Will's driving; it seems like forever since I was in my home, without doctors and nurses examining me all the time.

As we pull onto our street, I see pink up ahead. Georgie and the boys have blown up ten pink balloons and attached them with string to our mailbox. I love it!

Will stops the car in the driveway, and I wonder why we're not going into the garage.

He says, “You and Rose have to go in through the front door. I'm not supposed to tell you why, just let me help you walk over there.”

After he opens my door, I hand the baby out to him. He waits for me to stand and then escorts me up the path. Walking slowly, holding onto his arm, I can see papers covering the front door. We stop to read the ones taped around the edges.

Each one has “Rose” in red crayon, printed by Nick. The middle has two large sheets on it.

The top one says:

THIS IS OUR HOUSE!

And the bottom one says:

YOU LIVE HERE, ROSE!

“Oh, Will, did you know about this? You've got to get the camera!”

The front door opens and Dan, Nick and Georgie come out.

“Mommy, did you see the signs I made?” Dan asks excitedly, pointing to the center of the door.

“Yes, I did, and you've done a great job! I want a picture of you and Nick standing here, so we can show Rose when she's bigger.”

Dan is bursting with pride and Nick is jumping around us.

“We got the bedroom all ready for you and daddy and Rose! We helped Aunt Georgie and we moved all of Rose's new toys into her bed,” Dan says.

“I even shared my brown dog with her,” Nick exclaims proudly.

“Let's go inside, and you can show me,” I say, looking around our neighborhood. I expect that some friends will be calling soon, asking when they can come over to meet Rose. I'm happy to be back here, safe and sound. We go through the door to begin our life with our new baby, the five of us together. I have never been so glad to be home.


THE END

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