Baby Comes First (16 page)

Hannah felt a warm glow from his banter.
“Specifically?”

“All I want for Christmas is to sleep with my
wife.”

Hannah couldn’t resist teasing him a little.
“You already sleep with me.”

“Then let me be more precise. I want to have
sex with my wife.”

My wife
. The words sounded wonderful.
She stepped back, playfully, out of his reach. “As soon as Dr.
Armanzo gives me permission, I’ll let you know.”

Luke growled.

Hannah laughed.

#

“Everything looks fine,” Dr. Armanzo said, as
she scribbled a few notes on Hannah’s medical file. “Your incision
is healing nicely. It looks like there will be very little
scarring. How do you feel?”

“I feel great,” Hannah said. “I need a nap
now and then, but –”

“Welcome to the club,” the doctor said dryly.
“I don’t know any mother in the world that couldn’t use a nap now
and then.”

“Overall, I have more energy, and I’ll like
to start an exercise program.”

“That’s fine, but start slow. Don’t overtax
yourself. Pay attention to your body.” The doctor asked a few
questions about Hannah’s exercise routine, and made a few
suggestions of specific moves to modify. “Is there anything
else?”

Hannah said, “Yes. Sex. Am I ready, or do I
need to wait?”

#

Christmas Eve was cool and clear. Hannah and
Luke joined Margaret and her family for a midnight Christmas Eve
service. Rachel was quiet through most of it, then started crying
and needed to be fed. Hannah walked her up and down the empty
church hallways, until the service had ended, so they wouldn’t
disturb the others.

Margaret invited them to join her family for
an early breakfast, but Hannah shook her head, and cast a
meaningful glance at Luke.

“Maybe next year,” Luke said. “We need to go
home.”

She was glad he’d read her silent message
correctly.

They stood around saying, “Merry Christmas,”
for a few more minutes, their breath making clouds in the air, then
walked to their cars.

“I wish it would snow,” Hannah said, looking
up at the cloudless sky.

“I don’t,” he said flatly. “I don’t like
driving on icy roads. It wouldn’t be bad if everyone slowed down,
but there’s always some idiot going full speed, putting everyone
else at risk.”

“You’re right,” Hannah said, and restated her
wish. “I wish it would snow on the grass and trees and look
beautiful, and leave the roads alone.”

Luke shook his head. “You can’t have it both
ways.”

“Why not? Christmas is a season of miracles.”
She knew she was not being rational, but tonight was a beautiful
night, and she was so happy, so full of love for her new precious
family, she felt as if miracles could come true.

They came home and put Rachel to sleep in her
crib. Luke helped Hannah out of her wool coat. Underneath it, she
wore an emerald green satin blouse and a long velvet skirt. She’d
twisted her hair up high on her head and secured it with a
rhinestone studded comb. “You look very elegant tonight,” he told
her in a husky voice. “Very beautiful.”

Hannah took a deep breath, gathering her
courage. “Thank you. So do you.” He was beautiful to her in his
dark suit and tie.

He smiled at the compliment. “Do you want to
eat anything, or do you just want to go to bed?”

“I’d like to open presents first.”

He frowned. “Can’t you wait until
tomorrow?”

“Not all of them. Just one. I’d like you to
open a gift from me.”

“If you insist,” he said, humoring her.

They walked over to the lit Christmas tree,
and Hannah pulled out a flat gold rectangular box from the pile
around the base of the tree. She handed it to Luke.

He shook it and heard the rustle of tissue
paper. “A basketball,” he guessed, then started unwrapping it.

He lifted off the lid and unwrapped the
tissue paper to reveal a delicate blue nightgown with spaghetti
straps.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers.
“Does this mean what I think it does?”

She nodded, suddenly shy.

“Oh, Hannah,” he breathed, and pulled her
close. He kissed her, then pulled the comb from her hair, so her
curls fell to her shoulders. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long
time.”

Her hands tightened on his shoulders. He
kissed her until her legs felt like melted butter. Just when she
thought she’d collapse against him, he scooped her up in his arms
and started carrying her to their bedroom.

Hannah gasped. “Be careful. I’m heavy.”

“Not too heavy.”

“I don’t want you to drop me.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, tightening his hold.
“I’ll take good care of you.”

Afterwards, Hannah lay with her head resting
on his bare chest. Over the years, she’d had so many dreams, so
many fears, and nothing she had hoped for could have lived up to
these moments with Luke. He was her husband, her own, and she
belonged to him completely. “I love you,” she whispered.

He stiffened. Had she embarrassed him?

He smoothed her hair with his hand. “Hannah,”
he said gently. “There’s no need to wrap it up in pretty
words.”

She propped herself up on one elbow. “What do
you mean?”

“People confuse great sex and love all the
time. We should be happy for what we have without pretending it’s
something more.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

His words cut through Hannah like a razor.
Was that all he thought they’d shared?
Great sex?

Suddenly she remembered what he’d said when
he told her what he wanted for Christmas. He didn’t want to make
love to her, he wanted to have sex with his wife. There was a world
of difference between the two, and she’d been too naive, too
blinded by her own emotions to see it.

Hannah blinked to hide the tears that
threatened to spill down her cheeks. She refused to let him see her
cry.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

That was one of the stupidest questions she’d
ever heard. No, she was not all right, and it was all his
fault.

But she should have known better, she told
herself. He had never promised her love, and he had never asked for
hers, either. He wanted a contractual partnership, nothing more. He
wanted to be Rachel’s father, with benefits.

She sat up, and strove to keep her voice
steady. “I’m fine,” she lied, keeping her voice steady. “I’m a
little chilly. I’ll go get something else to put on.”

She changed into a flannel nightgown. Luke
frowned and tugged at the voluminous gathers. “I’m not sure I’ll be
able to find you under all this,” he teased.

Just what I intended
. Hannah purposely
yawned. “Good night, Luke.”

“Merry Christmas,” he said, giving her one
last peck on her cheek.

“Merry Christmas,” she repeated quietly. She
lay still with her eyes closed, until his steady breathing let her
know that he was asleep.

She shifted out of his embrace and stared at
the ceiling, thinking.

She was married to a man that she loved so
much she ached with it, and he didn’t want or appreciate her
love.

Could she live with him, keeping her love
secret, going through the motions of their businesslike
arrangement? Did she have a choice? She’d be miserable with him,
not able to tell him how she felt, but she’d be even more miserable
without him.

Half a loaf was better than none, she told
herself.

She watched him, admiring his thick dark
hair, the curve of his jaw line.

He thought all they had shared was great sex,
but she didn’t think the sex would have been that great if there
hadn’t been some emotional closeness on his part. He had to feel
something for her, didn’t he?

But men were different from women. They
didn’t equate physical intimacy with emotional intimacy.

Perhaps it was a matter of semantics, she
told herself. Luke had made it very clear that he didn’t believe in
love, but if she looked at his actions – spending time with her,
offering to help her mother, his many kindnesses - it looked like
love to her, or at least the beginnings of it. He might consider it
friendship, but it could blossom into something more.

And he adored Rachel – wasn’t that a form of
love, too?

She thought of what Christine said about
loving her husband more as the years passed. Perhaps she and Luke
would do the same. He might not call it love, but over time, his
feelings for her could grow to approach it. And until then, her
love for him would be sufficient for both of them.

Hannah rolled over onto her side and shifted
her pillow. She wiped her tears and smiled. Luke was half in love
with her already, and he didn’t know it. She could live with
that.

She was a patient woman.

#

“Which do you like better?” Hannah asked,
showing Luke two light green paint chips. “Peaceful glade or
Serengeti Mist?”

Luke sat in his office, with his computer on,
and papers scattered all over his desk. He’d started working more
from home in the evenings, but that meant Hannah could interrupt
him. He usually enjoyed the interruptions, but he was in the middle
of drafting his opening argument.

He squinted at the colored squares. They
looked exactly the same to him. “Peaceful glade,” he said finally.
He wasn’t sure the Serengeti had mist, and even if it did, he
didn’t want his den to look like an African water hole.

“You don’t think it’s too yellow?”

“No, it looks just right.”

“All right, then. We’ll paint the den in
Peaceful glade. And the kitchen, we’ll do over in yellow.”

“Yellow? I thought you didn’t want too much
yellow.”

“That was for the den. We’re talking about
the kitchen, now.”

He frowned. “Are you going to paint the
cupboards yellow?”

“No, I’m leaving the cabinets and counters as
they are. I’m just going to change the wallpaper, to liven up the
room.” Hannah handed him two samples of wallpaper. “Which do you
like better?”

Luke had a feeling that if he didn’t speak
soon, he would never get back to his work. “It doesn’t matter. You
pick what you want. I trust you.”

Hannah looked at him closely. “You really
don’t care?”

“No, I told you. Whatever you choose will be
fine with me.” He turned back to his notes, skimming them.

“That explains all the cream color,” she
murmured.

He looked up. “What was that?”

“Nothing.” She smiled. “I’ll do what I want,
but then you can’t complain if I paint your office fire engine
red.”

It was impossible to know from her poker-face
whether she was joking or not. “Are you planning to redo this room
as well?”

“Why not?”

He sputtered. “But it’s my favorite
room!”

“Then you do notice some things.”

“And I like it just the way it is!”

Hannah beamed and leaned forward to kiss him
briefly. “Then I’ll leave it alone.” She walked out of the room,
with a sexy sway to her walk.

Luke shook his head. She delighted in teasing
him, and he must like it too, or he wouldn’t have changed his work
habits. He enjoyed her company.

He also enjoyed the sexual frisson between
them, knowing that when the day was done, they could be together
again. Hannah was a warm, vibrant, generous woman, and he had never
felt so alive. Sex had been good with Gloria in the beginning, but
with Hannah, it was even better.

He was a lucky man.

For the first time in years, he looked
forward to coming home at the end of the day. He’d even gone so far
as to rethink some of his career plans. Now that he was a family
man, with a child, he’d like a more reasonable work load. Perhaps
it was time to cut back on his billable hours. Or at the very
least, he should take all the vacation hours that he earned instead
of letting them accrue.

When his current trial was over, he and
Hannah should go somewhere for a month. They could take a real
honeymoon. Hannah wouldn’t want to leave Rachel for that long, and
neither would he, but they could find a beach somewhere, and
relax.

But work came first, he thought, and returned
to his notes.

#

Instead of going out on the town, Luke and
Hannah celebrated the new year quietly at home, and went to bed
early. Hannah helped her mother relocate to a new nursing home, and
Luke finished the preparations for his trial. Rachel, two months
old now, could lift her head and chest off the floor if she was
lying on her stomach. She turned her head to follow sounds and
began smiling. Hannah was enchanted.

She bought new brightly colored linens with a
jungle motif for the nursery and hung up new curtains covered with
giraffes and tigers. She folded the frilly white curtains Gloria
had bought and put them away in the linen closet. As she did so,
she saw a round striped hat box on the highest shelf.

It must have been one of Gloria’s hat boxes,
because she didn’t own any herself.

Hannah stood on her tip-toes to reach it.
Luke had given away most of Gloria’s belongings, but he must have
missed this. She was curious to see what sort of hat Gloria would
have worn – black with a veil, or a flirty blue number with
flowers. She’d heard bits and pieces of information about Gloria,
and had seen a few photographs at Margaret’s house -- Gloria was a
pretty woman with short dark hair and a clean, classic dressing
style -- but she still knew very little about her.

The box was heavier than she expected and it
tipped, slipping out of her hands.

The box landed with a thud while envelopes
and papers fluttered to the ground.

She picked up a card and recognized Luke’s
handwriting.

“My dearest Gloria,” she read and dropped the
card as if it were radioactive.

She considered shoving everything back in the
box and putting it on the shelf. Out of sight, out mind. But she
knew that if she did that, the hat box would be like Bluebeard’s
locked room. She would never be able to get a sheet or a towel
without remembering it, wondering what he’d written to his first
wife.