The Visitor: Alien Hunger Special Edition (21 page)

Unsettled, she studied the unfamiliar
medical name. He seemed so healthy it was hard to imagine what he
might need pills for. He couldn’t be sick, she assured herself. It
didn’t make her feel any better, though, to think he might be
popping pills to keep going because he was working too hard to
manage it without something.

She hesitated, chewing her
bottom lip, and finally straightened and carried the bottle with
her to the living room. Grabbing a note pad from her satchel, she
wrote the name of the medicine down. She hesitated again when she
took them back, but she was more than a little uneasy. As guilty as
she felt about it, she decided to check to see if he had anything
else in the bag. He’d left it open. It wasn’t as if she’d
really
invaded his
privacy.

Ok, so it was, and she felt bad about
it, but it was going to worry her to death to think he might have a
drug problem!

Thankfully, she didn’t see anything
else, but then she had another problem. She didn’t want Garryk to
know she’d been snooping when she shouldn’t have. Straightening the
contents of the bag the best she could, she dropped the bottle in
and then gathered the clothes she’d intended to wash and tried to
arrange them like they had been before, half in and half out of the
bag. She would just pretend she’d overlooked them, she decided,
surging to her feet and grabbing the laundry basket.

She’d just put the basket in the trunk
and closed it when she heard the rumbling growl of a motorcycle.
Straightening, she looked around until she saw it coming along the
street. She nearly had heart failure when she discovered Garryk was
on the damned thing! He pulled along beside her car and cut it off,
pulling his helmet off. Chelsey stared at him, fighting the urge to
shriek at him as if he was Larry’s age and she’d just caught him
doing something that could get him killed.

“
Where you
headed?”

She blinked. “I didn’t know you had a
motorcycle.”

His dark brows rose. He shrugged.
“It’s reliable and good on gas.”

Chelsey bit her lip, but she couldn’t
stand it. “And dangerous to drive in city traffic.”

He studied her a long moment. “There’s
risks with everything,” he drawled.

And more risks with some things than
others! She wished she’d never found out about the motorcycle! She
wasn’t going to be able to sleep a wink, knowing he was out on the
thing! What else didn’t she know about him, she wondered abruptly?
Pills in his duffle bag and a motorcycle?

“
Did you just get home?”
he prompted.

She shook her head. “I was going to do
the laundry tonight. Larry’s supposed to stay with me this weekend
and I didn’t want to spend all the time doing chores.”

He nodded. “I guess you’ll want me to
disappear.”

Chelsey felt her heart clench.
Impulsively, she moved toward him and slipped her arms around his
waist. “Of course not! I mean—if you don’t want to come, that’s
another story and I completely understand if it would be
uncomfortable for you.”

His expression lightened. “Maybe we
can just play it by ear? It I hit it off with him, I’ll hang
around. If not ….” He shrugged. “Maybe the three of us could do
something together. Or if you decide you want some time with just
of the two of you, that’s alright, too.”

Chelsey slipped her arms around his
neck and kissed him. “You’re a wonderful man, Garryk
Sinclair.”

He grinned at her. “You think
so?”

“
I do,” she said, smiling
back at him. “Be careful on this thing. I’ll worry.”

“
I
worry,” he retorted wryly. “I’ll be careful. I’ve got to grab
my bag. I’ll see you later tonight, baby.”

The reminder of what she’d found in
the bag made her uneasy. “If you’ve got a little time, I’ll hang
around until you have to leave,” she offered
tentatively.

He shook his head. “If you’re doing
laundry tonight, I’d rather you got it done and got back to the
apartment before it gets much later. It’s Friday night. There’ll be
drunks on the road.”

“
You just keep that in
mind for yourself.”

* * * *

Chelsey was tempted to leave the
clothes at the laundry-mat and head for the nearest computer to
look up the drug. She knew from experience, though, that one had to
guard the machines. As she paced restlessly, waiting for the
washers she’d appropriated to finish their cycles, however, she
spotted a drug store across the street. Wondering if the pharmacist
was still on duty, she checked the washing machines and calculated
how much longer she had on the wash cycle.

Deciding she ought to be able to get
the information she wanted and get back if the pharmacist wasn’t
busy, she strode quickly to the door and went out, heading for the
drugstore at a brisk walk. The store was nearly empty, she
discovered, and the pharmacy at the back still well lit. Bracing
herself, she headed that way and waited for the pharmacist to
finish what he was doing and notice her.

“
Can I help
you?”

She hadn’t prepared a story, damn it!
“I was just wondering if you could tell me what this is?” she asked
hopefully.

He took the piece of paper and studied
it. She couldn’t help but notice he looked a little uncomfortable.
He cleared his throat, sent her a sharp look, and finally handed
the paper back. “It’s a fertility drug.”

Shock suspended Chelsey’s thought
processes for a handful of moments. She blinked at him, trying to
get them going again. “Fertility?” she echoed.

He nodded. “For men.”

Her jaw went slack. Her mind scrambled
around in another shocked circle. She felt her face heating. “You
mean … uh … like when I guy can’t … uh ….”

“
It isn’t for erectile
dysfunction. It’s to build the sperm count.”

She felt perfectly blank. “It isn’t
used for anything else?”

“
No.”

Pivoting on her heel abruptly, Chelsey
headed out of the store faster than she’d headed in. She reached
the laundry-mat without any recollection of the trip from the store
and looked around blankly, as if she’d been teleported. She might
have stood like a statue longer except she saw someone unloading
her washers. Surging forward abruptly, she confronted the
woman.

“
These are my things,” she
said tightly.

“
The washer
stopped.”

“
Well, if you’ll move I’ll
unload it.”

The woman glared at her, but she
backed off just far enough Chelsey could squeeze between her and
the washers, throwing glances around to make certain nobody tried
to sneak up and grab the washer before she could.

Her irritation held her until she’d
loaded the clothes in the dryers. Shoving coins in to get them
going, she wished she’d been in a better state of mind when she’d
been going through her divorce and had had enough sense to demand
custody of her washer and dryer. She missed them a lot more than
any of the other things she’d lost—even the house.

When she’d finished inserting coins,
she found a chair, checked it for nasty deposits and sat down when
she saw it was relatively clean, staring at the tumbling clothes
while she grappled with what she’d discovered.

Why would Garryk be taking something
to build his sperm count up? Was he sterile? Was that why he hadn’t
worried about using the condoms?

If he was sterile, she couldn’t be
pregnant!

Should she be relieved?

Would fertility drugs work if a man
was sterile, though?

Maybe he wasn’t sterile, just
infertile?

That made more sense in one way, but
she still didn’t understand why he’d take them when he wasn’t even
married.

Planning ahead?

She considered that. She didn’t think
Garryk had been any more inclined to plan ahead when he was a kid
than any other teenager. They all thought they had forever and were
invincible. Now—well he’d been working two jobs for a while from
what she could tell. That was the MO of somebody with plans that
they were willing to devote a lot of time and effort to, so she
thought she could safely say he was definitely a planner now. And
maybe he’d always had the inclination?

What was up with the fertility drugs,
though? Did he think it would work like a male enhancement drug? Or
help him with stamina?

His name had been on the bottle,
though. A doctor wouldn’t have prescribed them without a reason—or
explaining it. So that meant he actually needed them … or thought
he did.

She frowned. She’d read somewhere in
one of the studies always being conducted that men were as inclined
as women to reach a time when they felt a ‘nesting’ urge. Garryk
was twenty seven. Maybe he’d just decided it was time to settle
down and have a family?

She might have been
thrilled at the idea except Garryk had to know she wasn’t a very
good candidate for that sort of plan. She was thirty four and
she’d
had
her
family. Larry was nearly grown.

She felt guilt swamp her the moment
the thought congealed in her mind. Garryk hadn’t had his family. It
wasn’t fair to expect him to give that up even if he was willing
to.

And she didn’t know that he was. He’d
seemed perfectly happy to settle in with her as if he meant to stay
awhile, but how long would that last if she couldn’t, or wouldn’t,
give him a baby when he clearly wanted a family?

Not long, she thought wryly, and he
wouldn’t be happy even if he tried to make it work.

So—maybe he wouldn’t have
a heart attack and die or take to his heels if it turned out that
she was pregnant? She thought
she
might have a stroke, but would Garryk take it as
badly as she’d feared he would?

It occurred to her pretty
forcefully that she couldn’t count on that. He might not know
exactly how old she was, but he had to have some idea and he also
knew she’d only had one child. He’d probably assumed she was either
too old to worry about or that she’d had her tubes tied, she
thought unhappily. He might be
very
upset to find out he was wrong if he had plans
already.

He’d worked so
hard
, too! God only knew
how long he’d worked two jobs—just about worked himself to
death—just to save up the money to start his family! And he’d never
caught a break, poor baby! He’d had to fight every step of the way
to try to make something of himself.

She couldn’t do that to
him! She couldn’t
bear
to think that she’d ruined his plans when he’d worked so
hard!

What was she going to do,
though, if it turned out she
was
pregnant?

She knew the moment she
considered abortion that she couldn’t do that. It made her hurt for
it to have even crossed her mind. If she was pregnant, it was
Garryk’s baby and whether he wanted
her
to have his baby or not, he
obviously wanted
a
baby if he was taking fertility drugs. What if it was just a
fluke and the pills didn’t really work for him and he never got
another chance? She’d never be able to forgive herself if she
‘disposed’ of his only child because it was inconvenient to her and
she knew Garryk never would.

Beyond that, she loved Garryk. She’d
tried really hard to convince herself that she was just very fond
of him, and admired him, and thought he was cute and sexy, but all
it had taken was considering for a moment how she would feel if
anything happened to him and she knew exactly how she felt. She
might be able to lie to Garryk, but she couldn’t lie to herself.
She loved him with a sense desperation she’d never felt for
Lawrence—as if the world would end without him. She couldn’t
consider it. She just couldn’t. She didn’t know what in the hell
she was going to do. She just hoped she was wrong and she didn’t
have to figure that out.

She felt like kicking her
ass all over the place that she hadn’t dashed down to a clinic and
gotten birth control right away when she’d realized the danger. It
was all very well to say she hadn’t actually
expected
him to come back for
seconds, let alone thirds—or to hang around for any length of time,
but the truth was she’d just been too damned busy making hay while
the sun shone to give it another damned thought! And she was too
old to behave so recklessly and excuse herself!

Chapter Twelve

Garryk noticed the note on the mirror
the minute he stepped into the bathroom. It had occurred to him to
wonder several times during the day if she’d grabbed a test on the
way to work and used it there. Pleased to discover she obviously
hadn’t and that he still had the chance to see the results himself,
he proceeded to the shower and turned the water on to warm up,
glancing at the note several times thoughtfully.

After a moment’s thought, it occurred
to him that he might have misinterpreted the note. He didn’t think
that was likely, but he didn’t see any sense in getting his hopes
up for nothing. She was a teacher. She might’ve just left the note
as a reminder that she had brought work home for the weekend. He
didn’t think so, but he couldn’t rule out the possibility unless he
could find a kit.