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Authors: Erica Spindler

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BOOK: Cause For Alarm
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11

J
ulianna sat on her bed, back propped by pillows, legs stretched out in front of her, the Citywide profiles stacked on what was left of her lap. She gazed at the typewritten words of the profile on the top of the stack, her vision blurred with tears.

I've loved Kate since the moment I laid eyes on her. She's my partner, my lover, my best friend. I can't imagine my life without her.

Julianna drew in a ragged breath, rereading the words, an ache of longing, of hunger, in the pit of her gut. She wanted that. To be loved and needed so ferociously. To be someone's everything.

She closed her eyes, her thoughts whirling. She had planned to pretend to have considered all the profiles and just randomly pick one of the couples. After all, she didn't want this baby, and Ellen had assured her that every couple had been carefully screened as to their worthiness for parenthood. Any one of them would have done.

Then, for no particular reason, she had begun to leaf through the first of the profiles Ellen had given her. Something about that couple had jumped out at her. A tone underlying the words, a kind of sanctimony. As if they thought themselves a bit too good for this whole thing. Too good for Julianna. And her baby.

Taking an immediate dislike to them, she had tossed the profile aside and selected another. The next couple had seemed nice enough. Sincere. Eager to be parents. She was a homemaker, he an accountant.

They had bored her silly. Their life-style, what they'd had to say about parenting, their hopes for their child's future.

She had tossed them aside as well.

Then, on Saturday, she had found Richard and Kate. Everything about them had called to her—their life-style, beliefs, hopes and dreams and plans. Theirs was the life, the relationship, she had always fantasized as her own.

Now, on Monday, after having read their profiles a hundred times, she realized she had found so much more than just a couple to adopt her baby. The man she had been waiting for all her life. The one she was meant to be with.

Julianna drew in a ragged breath, struggling to get ahold of her runaway thoughts, denying them even as she was drawn back to his words, ones she knew now by heart.

We met at the university. She was so alive, so bright and eager and smart. I looked at her and saw the future in her eyes. My future.

What had John seen when he'd looked into her eyes? A child who needed protecting? An innocent who could be molded to his liking? Julianna swallowed hard. What had anybody ever seen in her eyes?

At the answer, the tears welled and spilled over, trickling slowly down her cheeks. Her mother had treated her like one of her expensive accessories, no different than a Hermés scarf or Gucci handbag. John, too, had had a narrow space for her in his life. And although he had professed to love her and had treated her well, he had wanted her to conform to that space and fill no other.

She wanted more now. She wanted what Kate had.

Angry, Julianna swiped at her cheeks and lowered her gaze again to the profile on her lap. She read about Richard's childhood and family, his dreams and aspirations. He shared his hopes for the future; his views on love, marriage and parenting.

She turned the last page, realizing only then that she was trembling. His words were her thoughts. Her hopes and dreams and prayers. This man, though they had never met, had reached into her head and heart, touching her in a way no one ever had.

It was as if he knew her. As if they were connected somehow, one person separated by time and fate.

Brought back together by the same.

Richard. And Julianna.

She tested his name on her tongue, saying it aloud, mating it with her own. Their names sounded…right together. They felt right together. As she said them, repeating them over and over, it was as if a bell went off in her head, a sort of chime, ringing out the beginning of her life. The real beginning, one that had nothing to do with her physical birth. Nothing to do with her past.

She was new now. Reborn. All the pieces had fallen into place. It all made sense. This was why she had gotten pregnant. Why John had driven her away. This was what every event of her life had led her to.

She believed in fate. In destiny. She had found hers.

Richard. And Julianna.

Julianna laid the profile aside and picked up its accompanying photo album. She ran her fingers over the embossed leather cover, heart beating uncomfortably fast, almost afraid to open it, though she didn't know why.

Perhaps because what she was feeling was so potent, so new and frightening. Perhaps because of the feeling in the pit of her gut—that she had just run headlong into her future.

Her future. Theirs. Richard and Julianna's.

With trembling fingers, Julianna opened the photo album. She went from one page to the next, turning them almost reverently, breathless at the enormity of what was transpiring, how her life was changing.

He was as she had pictured him through his words. Tall and dark-haired, with broad shoulders and an enticing, boyish smile. He looked strong and confident. A man a woman could lean on. One who loved deeply, passionately.

The man she had been waiting for.

Richard and Julianna.

And Kate. A problem.

Julianna drew her eyebrows together. She bore the woman no ill will. How could she? After all, she was a part of this, too, one of the pieces that had drawn them all together. If not for Kate's desire for a child, how would Julianna have found Richard?

Julianna skimmed her gaze from one photo in the album to the next, reading the accompanying inscription. Richard and Kate skiing in Aspen. Sailing on Lake Pontchartrain. Vacationing in the Tropics. Arms around each other. Smiling and gazing into one another's eyes.

Julianna stared at the photos, a knot in her throat. Kate wasn't gorgeous. She wasn't even beautiful, not really. But she looked smart. She looked classy. Not like a little girl. Not dependent. Not an over-sexed glamazon.

She touched one of the photographs, stroking her finger over Kate's glossy image. Kate was someone a man like Richard would fall in love with, she thought. Someone who would be this man's lover and partner.

Someone who deserved all the good things that had come to her.

Julianna frowned. At the tug of jealousy she felt. At the pang of insecurity.

She shook the emotions off. Those wouldn't do. She was prettier than Kate, younger and sexier. Class could be acquired, education feigned.

If she chose, she could be everything Kate was, have everything Kate had.

If she chose.

Julianna returned her attention to the album, to the photos of Richard and Kate. As she gazed at them, Kate disappeared and Julianna became the woman on Richard's arm, the woman he looked at with such love. The one to whom all the good things had come.

Yes, she thought. She chose to become the woman Kate was. To have what she had; to live her life.

All she had to do was make it happen.

12

T
he Saturday morning crowd at The Uncommon Bean consisted almost exclusively of college students and singles. The former came to visit with friends or to study, the latter to meet other singles, a healthy alternative to the bar scene.

This was the double-cappuccino, café-mocha crowd, and business had been brisk. Neither Kate, Blake nor Tess had been away from the counter except to bus tables since they opened up.

“We're out of scones,” Blake announced, placing the last one on a plate. “And if this crush keeps up, we'll be out of croissants and muffins, too.”

“What gives this morning?” Tess tucked her blond hair behind her ear. “Is it a holiday, or something? I've never seen it quite this busy.”

“The weather, I think,” Kate replied, smiling and thanking a customer as she counted out her change. “Everybody wants out of the house when it's this pretty.”

“Not me.” Tess passed a hand across her eyes. “I'd love to be home, in bed, the curtains drawn. I'd sleep 'til at least three, I swear I would.”

Kate shot the other woman a part sympathetic, part exasperated glance. From the looks of her employee this morning, she had been out partying the night before, no doubt stumbling in sometime around dawn.

Tess smiled at the couple who approached the counter, took their order and called it back to Blake, who was manning the espresso machine. She glanced at Kate. “I met a guy last night. I think I'm in love.”

Here we go again.
Tess, an art student at Southeastern Louisiana University in Hammond, was pretty, vivacious and smart—but an absolute dope when it came to men. She believed every line she was tossed and fell for every guy in a tight pair of jeans. Blake, not the most sexually conservative himself, said Tess had the morals of an alley cat. Kate was of a different opinion—she felt Tess used men and sex as a way to feel good about herself.

That kind of thinking and behavior was not only self-destructive, it was downright dangerous, and Kate used every opportunity to try to counsel the girl. If only she could see how terrific she was. She didn't need a man, or anything else, to validate her.

Kate shook her head. “Oh, Tess.”

The young woman frowned. “I don't know why everyone always says that to me.”

“Honey,” Blake drawled, his back to them as he frothed milk for a cappuccino, “consider your track record. You fall in and out of love daily. Like a rabbit.”

“I wouldn't talk, Mr. Monogamy.”

“Yeah, but I don't call it love.”

“Okay children,” Kate murmured, using the sudden lull to refill the pastry trays. “Let's not fight.”

“Besides this is different. He's different. Special. Older, more sophisticated.” She looked pleadingly at Kate. “You believe me, don't you?”

“It doesn't matter what I believe, Tess.” She crushed an empty bakery box and stuffed it into the trash. “It's what you believe that matters.”

“See?” She made a face at Blake, who only shrugged and went to chat with a couple of the regulars. Tess leaned against the counter, her expression dreamy. “You know how you can just look at someone and
know?

“Know what, Tess?”

“That they're special. Different. That they're the one for you.”

An image of Luke popped unbidden into Kate's head. As he had been that first time she saw him, standing outside the student loan office, looking defiant and proud, yet somehow vulnerable, too.

Kate shook her head, as much, she realized, to expel his image as to differ with Tess. “But can't that feeling translate to friendship? Just because someone is attractive to you, or thinks you're attractive, or makes you smile or whatever, that doesn't mean you have to fall in love with him. It doesn't mean you have to become sexual with him.”

Because sometimes when you do, it ruins everything.

“It doesn't work that way.” Tess drew her eyebrows together. “I only know how I feel, you know? It's like…” She hesitated before beginning, as if to gather her thoughts. “It's like, if I don't have him I'm going to go crazy or die. And when I get that way, I'll do anything to be with him.”

“Do anything to be with him?” Kate repeated, arching an eyebrow. “Even lie? Even cheat or hurt someone you care about? Even lose your self-respect?”

Tess met Kate's eyes, her cheeks pink. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I would.”

Kate was taken aback. She hadn't expected that answer. Truthfully, she was shocked by it. “You can't mean that, Tess. And if you do, don't you think that's a problem?”

“A problem? No.” The younger woman looked dumbfounded at the suggestion. “Why should I?”

“Tess, you're telling me you'd lie to be with a man. That you'd hurt yourself or a friend. In my book, that's a problem. It's not healthy.”

“You don't get it. It's because the feeling's so strong. And that's love. I know it is.”

“How?” Kate challenged. “You've been in love dozens of times in the past year, it's never lasted. If it were really love, it would.”

Blake finished with his customer and crossed to where they stood. He nodded his head. “I've been in love like that. The way Tess is describing. A couple of times.”

“Really?” Tess turned to him. “What happened?”

He was quiet a moment. “Let's just say, I never want to feel that way again.” Kate opened her mouth to console him, but he shook his head. “I'll clear the tables.”

Kate watched him walk away, heart breaking for him. Blake had not had an easy life, she knew. He'd had to battle discrimination and intolerance, even from his own family. He longed, like all people did, for love and acceptance, yet had had his heart broken time and again. And despite his acerbic sense of humor and oftentimes sarcastic tongue, Kate knew that deep down he was a softy with a heart of gold.

“Don't you feel that way about Richard, Kate?”

Kate turned back to the other woman, thinking back fifteen years, to her first meeting with Richard. To how she had felt during the first weeks and months of their love affair. Giddy. Flushed. Over the moon.

She smiled at the memory. “I suppose I did. Once.”

Tess looked so disappointed for her, Kate laughed. “Nobody died, Tess. What you don't understand yet is that love and marriage are about so much more than what you're talking about. They're about commitment. And sharing. And trust. They're about working together to build a good life. And a family. What you're describing is new and exciting. But it's fleeting.”

“That makes me so sad for you.”

“Don't be. It's incredibly rich and satisfying.” Even as she said the words, meaning them with her whole heart, she felt a tug of dissatisfaction, as if indeed, something were missing from her life.

The feeling unsettled her, and she reminded herself that there was something missing from her and Richard's life—children. But they were remedying that.

“You'll see, Tess. It's good. Really good. I promise.”

 

The conversation with Tess nagged at Kate for the rest of the day and into the evening. Even during dinner with Richard at their favorite restaurant, she had found herself going over each part of the conversation in an attempt to figure out what had triggered her melancholy. She had found herself thinking back, remembering their courtship, her feelings. Attempting to analyze his.

From their first date, Richard had made her feel like a princess. Like the poor, plain stepsister who had somehow won Prince Charming. He had taken her places she had only dreamed of, had shown her a way of life so far out of her league she had been left wide-eyed with wonder. She had fallen madly, wildly in love with him. He had seemed to be just as in love with her.

Seemed.
She shook her head at the thought. Like all young couples, they'd had their troubles. He had been young, used to getting his way, to being the center of attention. He had been something of a ladies' man; when they'd begun dating, he had been up-front about that. He didn't plan to get serious about one girl, he'd said. But they had become serious. And when they had, she'd demanded he choose.

He had chosen her. And even though a half dozen times he had broken up with her to date someone else, he had always come back.

“Kate?” Richard waved his hand in front of her face. “Did you want coffee?”

She blinked, then flushed, realizing that she had been so engrossed in her own thoughts she hadn't even noticed the waiter approach their table. She smiled at the young man. “Yes, coffee. Thank you.”

“Bad day?” Richard asked as the waiter walked away.

“Not really.”

He arched his eyebrows. “Then why so quiet?”

“Have I been?”

He smiled. “Let's just say, the coroner keeps livelier company.”

She laughed. “Sorry. I guess I'm not much of a date tonight.”

He leaned across the table and covered her hand with his. “Want to talk about it?”

“It's silly.” She laughed again, this time sheepishly. “You'll laugh, I know you will.”

“Try me.”

So she did, relaying her conversation with Tess. “The way she looked at me, as if she felt sorry for me, as if she thought our marriage was bloodless—” she lifted a shoulder “—it's left me feeling strange all day. Out of sorts.”

Richard made a sound of disbelief. “You're not letting her dingy notions about love bother you, are you?”

“No, it's just that…” She looked away, then back. “Did you ever feel that way about me? Like you couldn't eat or sleep for thinking about me? Like you would die without me?”

“Kate, listen to yourself. Tess is what? Nineteen? Twenty? From what you've told me, she's never even had a committed relationship.” He leaned closer, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Face it, when it comes to love, she's clueless.”

“I suppose.” Kate gazed out at the lake a moment, then looked back at him. “But did you? Ever feel that way about me?”

“I still do.”

He leered at her, and she frowned. “Stop it. I'm serious about this.”

He sat back. “I can see we're having one of those kinds of conversations.”

“And what kind is that?”

“One where no matter what I say, I'm damned.”

“That's not true. I'm trying to be serious and you're clowning around.”

“Serious about what?” Richard leaned toward her, catching her hand and drawing it toward him. “Tess has more mileage on her than the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile, and you're letting her opinions on love, on our marriage, bother you? You don't think that's just a little irrational?”

Amused, Kate curled her fingers around his. “When you put it like that, it is pretty silly. Great image, by the way. The Wienermobile.”

“Thanks.” He flashed her a smile. “Ever have one of those little wienie whistles?”

“What kid didn't?”

“Tess, probably. That's why she keeps looking for Mr. Good Wienie.”

Kate grinned despite the flash of sympathy she felt for her employee. “As simple as that, you think?”

“I do.” He brought their joined hands to his mouth, kissed her knuckles then released them. “Just think where you might have ended up if not for the Wienermobile visiting your local grocery store.”

“Just think.” She sobered. “Richard?”

He glanced up from perusing the bill. “Hmm?”

She ran her finger along the edge of the table. “You don't…there's nothing missing in our marriage for you, is there? I mean, you're happy, aren't you?”

“What a question.” He shook his head as he dug his wallet out of his inside jacket pocket. “I'm completely happy, Kate.”

“Me, too.” She made a sound, part contentment, part relief. “I just wouldn't want anything to happen to us.”

“Nothing will, love.” He tossed his credit card onto the bill, then smiled at her. “That I can promise you.”

BOOK: Cause For Alarm
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