The Color of Hope (The Color of Heaven Series) (16 page)

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I suppose you’re going to give me all the dirt now.”

“Do you want me to?”

I considered it a moment, and decided that yes, I needed to know everything. Otherwise, curiosity would eat away at me forever, like poison in my blood, and I wanted to deal with this directly so that I could move past it. “Yes, I want to know.”

“All right, then.” She took a moment to gather her thoughts. “Rick told Adam that after Vegas, Nadia said she never wanted to see him again, so he drove off and let it go. You officially dumped him, so he dated a lot. Then around Christmas time, Nadia started seeing some guy she had dated once before. According to Rick, he was a real nut job, but Nadia gave him a second chance because he had joined AA.”

“Isn’t it a recommendation that addicts aren’t supposed to date when they’re in treatment?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she replied. “That should have been her first clue.”

I exhaled heavily. “Poor Nadia. She’s not the sharpest tool in the shed when it comes to men.” I thought about how she’d kissed Rick –
my
Rick – in an elevator, when she knew I loved him and wanted to marry him.

On that note, maybe I wasn’t terribly sharp about men either.

“Anyway,” Becky continued, “Rick said the guy stayed sober for about sixty days, then he got loaded one night and smacked her around. She didn’t know who to call, so she called Rick, and he came to her rescue.”

“Just like the last time,” I said. “I think that’s what started everything. It was after that when I began to notice an attraction between them.”

“To make a long story short,” Becky continued, “Nadia got pregnant right away, but Rick told Adam he suspected she did it intentionally, just to trap him.”

“I wouldn’t put it past her,” I said. “So where does it stand now? Please don’t tell me they’re getting married.”

Becky scoffed. “God, no. It sounds like they hate each other. Believe me, when Adam told me the rest of this, I was glad you caught Rick cheating on you. Trust me, Diana. You’re better off without him. He wasn’t worthy of you.”

Becky’s words were both satisfying and comforting. Ordinarily, I was not a cruel person, but there was a wounded part of me that took pleasure in the news that Rick and Nadia’s relationship had imploded. That they were not blissfully happy and in love and thankful that I got out of their way.

“They’ve already signed a legal agreement about their separation,” Becky continued. “He doesn’t want custody of the child, and he didn’t even ask for visitation rights. He wants no part of it.”

“He doesn’t want to know his own child?” I said.

“Nope.”

This was inconceivable to me. “Did Adam get the details of the settlement?” I asked. It was my area of expertise, after all, and I couldn’t stem my curiosity.

“Rick gave her his car,” Becky said, “plus a fifty-thousand-dollar lump sum.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re kidding me. That’s all she got?” I sat forward. “My God, what kind of idiot legal counsel did she have? I would have gotten her way more than that – not to mention some sort of regular support payment until the child reached majority. She’ll blow through fifty thousand dollars in a heartbeat. Eventually she’ll be living out of her car with her kid in the back seat, just like her mother. It’s mind boggling.”

“I guess it must have seemed like a lot of money to her,” Becky said, “and Rick’s car is nicer than anything she could ever afford.”

I let out a breath. “Yeah, but Rick was probably thrilled to get rid of it. He was always talking about getting a new one. Something sportier. He sure got off easy.”

Becky sighed. “Didn’t you once tell me that Nadia’s father stopped paying child support when she was young? Maybe she figured she’d be better off to get it all up front.”

“Maybe,” I agreed, and swiveled around in my chair to look out the window again.

“Was I right to tell you?” Becky asked. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Yes,” I assured her, “you did the right thing.”

We were both quiet for a moment.

“So, what are you going to do?” Becky asked.

“What do you mean?”

She paused. “I mean... That baby is going to be your niece or your nephew. Are you going to talk to Nadia?”

Becky and I were both adopted, so we shared an understanding of what it meant to meet a blood relative. We had so few of them.

But this was different. Nadia, my identical twin, with whom I had shared a womb, had re-entered my life and betrayed me in the worst possible way. I couldn’t imagine inviting her back into my world.

“No, I’m not going to contact her,” I said.

“What about when she has the baby?” Becky asked. “You’ll be an aunt.”

I watched a sailboat motor out of the marina outside my window. As soon as it reached open water, the crew began to hoist its mainsail.

“I think it’s best if Nadia and I live separate lives,” I said.

When I hung up, however, I experienced a strange, achy feeling in my heart. I laid my hand over my chest, and massaged my sternum with the heel of my hand.

Nadia

D
ESPITE ALL THE
mistakes I had made in my life, for the first time I felt I was doing something right – something wonderful and amazing, for there was a tiny person growing inside me. Everything else in my past – all the hardships, failures, and foolish errors in judgement – paled in comparison to the bright future I saw before me. I was going to be a mother, and this beautiful child would love me and depend on me forever.

No one had ever depended on me before.

I would no longer be alone, without family.

This time, I was determined not to make a mess of things. What was happening to me was too beautiful. Surely, everything in my past had led me to this moment, this place, this calling. This was my chance. I was finally experiencing a hope and optimism I’d never known before. Whenever I touched my belly or felt my baby kick, joy spread through me like a warm breeze through an open window.

My world was about to change profoundly, and I was determined to be the best mother in the world.

At five months, I was progressing well. The baby was gaining a healthy amount of weight, as was I. Each time the doctor checked my blood pressure, it was normal, and everything looked good on the ultrasounds. I was even able to learn the baby’s gender.

She was a girl.

Then, one Monday morning, my boss called me into her office for the annual performance review. I always hated these things and braced myself to hear all about my shortcomings, in meticulous detail, and then be told I was on thin ice.

“Come in and have a seat,” Ida said, gesturing to the chair on the opposite side of her desk. “How have you been feeling?”

It was a question I was asked often, whenever someone noticed my belly. “Great, thanks.”

“You were lucky not to have any morning sickness,” she said. “I was sick for months with both my children.”

“That’s rough,” I politely responded.

She sat back and looked at me for a moment, warmly. “Have you given any thought to how long of a maternity leave you want to take?”

I cleared my throat. “I’d like to take the maximum amount of time I’m allowed, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” she kindly replied. “Those first few months of your baby’s life are so important. You’re smart to take as much time as you can.”

Pleasantly surprised by the sincerity in her voice, I began to relax a bit.

“And when you come back,” Ida continued, “there’s an excellent daycare right here in the building. Have you gone to visit it yet?”

“I went a couple of weeks ago.”

“Did you put your name in?” she asked. “You should do that right away, because they have a waiting list.”

“I will. Thank you.”

She opened my file, and my body tensed up again as she read over her notes in silence.

“So tell me, Nadia,” she said, sounding more businesslike. “How do you think things have been going lately?”

I swallowed uneasily. “Good. I’m very happy here.”

She folded her hands together on top of my file. “I’m glad to hear that, because we’ve all been pleased with your performance. You’re dependable, courteous, responsible, always on time, and the clients find you friendly and helpful on the phone. We all feel we’re in very good hands with you on the front lines.”

For a moment I thought I was dreaming, because this never happened to me. I had never been a star student in school, nor was I singled out for my winning smile and personality at any previous job. Rarely in my life had I been given such praise.

“Thank you,” I shakily replied.

“I know you only have a few more months before you go on leave, but before then, I’d like to start training you to take on some extra responsibilities with office management. I’d like to feel that I have a back-up, someone I can trust and rely on to take over my duties when I’m on vacation, and with that, I’d like to promote you to assistant office manager. Would you be interested? It would come with a raise, of course. I’ve already discussed it with the partners, and they suggested ten percent.”

I felt like I’d just had the wind knocked out of me. Slightly giddy, I slapped a hand against my cheek. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Ida replied with a laugh. “I’d like to start training you next week if you’re willing, and of course, the position will be waiting for you when you come back from maternity leave.” She paused and leaned over the desk. “We really want to make sure you come back, Nadia. We don’t want to lose you.”

I smiled at her. “I’m thrilled. And yes, I’m very interested in the promotion.” It all sounded like a dream.

She sat back and sighed with relief. “Excellent.” Then she closed my file. “I’ll start training you next week, and I’ll put the raise through right away. You should see it reflected on the next paycheck.”

We both stood up. She came around her desk and shook my hand. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you.”

I felt a tickle in my nose and sneezed.

“Bless you,” Ida said, picking up the box of Kleenex on her desk and offering it to me before she escorted me out of her office.

By the time I arrived home, my sinuses were completely plugged, and my throat felt like it had been scrubbed raw with sandpaper. Every time I swallowed, it burned.

I dropped my oversized purse on the floor, slipped out of my heels, and went straight to my bedroom to change into my pyjamas.

A short while later I was wrapped in a soft fleece blanket on the sofa with a roll of toilet paper in front of me – I needed to blow my nose every five minutes. I could do nothing but click sleepily through TV channels, searching for something good to watch.

I had no appetite, but I knew it was important to keep eating for the baby, so I managed to get some strawberry yogurt down. Later, I warmed some canned soup in the microwave, but the heat stung my throat, so I decided to stick to yogurt and popsicles.

That night, the uncomfortable pain in my throat and sinuses prevented me from sleeping, but I didn’t dare take anything to relieve my symptoms because I didn’t want to risk hurting the baby.

When I rolled out of bed the next morning, I took my temperature and discovered I was running a low fever. I called in sick at work, and Ida told me to take care of myself.