LITMIR.BIZ

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are other ways of being an unfit mother.”

      “Sure there are.”

      “A child knows when she isn’t wanted. That kind of emotional abuse is just as bad as getting used as a punching bag, don’t you think?”

      Now Annie’s eyes were suddenly sharp. And focused on her.

      Rae realized she needed to cover her tracks. “I mean, that’s what I think. But you’re the expert. I’d like to know your opinion.”

      “Being loved is the most important thing. You’re absolutely right about that.”

      “Exactly. And some women just don’t have the maternal makeup to deal with a crying baby or a snotty-nosed toddler.” Or a chubby, school-age child who turned into a gangly, awkward adolescent.

      “Some women don’t.” Annie’s tone was completely nonjudgmental.

      “Did you have children, Annie?”

      “No. Funny, isn’t it? I was too busy helping other women delivering babies to have any of my own. Never met the right man to have them with. Most wanted me to give up my career and I would never do that.”

      “Me, either.”

      Annie reached across the table to pat her hand. “My career provided me with a very full and satisfying life. Are you sure that yours will be enough for you?”

      “Of course it will. Before I found out I was pregnant, I was very happy.” Okay, “happy” might be a bit of an exaggeration.

      Once, before she’d met Aidan, she’d been close to happy. Satisfied, actually. Her mother’s death had released her from a lifetime of guilt and melancholy, and her career had been taking off. As for men, she’d dated occasionally, but she’d felt no emotional connection to any of them.

      She assumed the flaw was hers. She had something missing in her, emotionally. Given her childhood, that wasn’t surprising.

      But then she’d met Aidan, and for the first time in her life she’d experienced it all: emotional ups and downs, the thrill of seeing him walk into the room and dizzy joy when he actually smiled at her. Suddenly, all the romantic songs she heard on the radio made sense to her. She had rented a DVD of The Way We Were and actually cried.

      “It’s your life, Rae. Just make sure that you focus on the things that are important to you.” Annie’s attention shifted back to the farmhouse. “Aidan is waving at us. I think it’s time for you to go.”

      Rae looked over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was Aidan, walking with Jennifer by his side. They looked so relaxed and easy together.

      What would it be like to have a friend like that? A friend you’d known forever, someone you could really talk to?

      As a child, she hadn’t been good at making friends. The closest she’d come was the next-door neighbor. Effie had been gray-haired and plump. She had a large extended family in Greece, but she’d lived alone since her children had grown up and her husband had died. She’d seemed to enjoy Rae’s visits.

      Rae would drop over for a piece of honey-soaked baklava, or one of the sugar-coated kourabiedes Effie baked for Christmas, and Effie would talk. Effie always had something to say, usually anecdotes about her childhood in Greece, and Rae would sit and listen, feeling wonderfully safe and warm.

      Yes, those afternoons she had felt happy.

      But when Rae was sixteen, Effie had decided to move back to Greece. Her house was sold to a family with three young children; a couple of times the mother asked Rae to babysit, but she always claimed to have too much homework.

      “Ready to head home?” Aidan asked.

      She nodded, then sighed and untangled her bulk from the picnic bench. Once she was standing, she held out a hand to Jennifer’s aunt.

      “It was really interesting talking to you, Annie.”

      Annie took hold of her hand as if she didn’t intend to let go. “I have more stories to tell you. And cream for your belly. You come back and see me soon.”

      “I will,” Rae promised. To her surprise, she really wanted to.

      AT TWO IN THE MORNING, Rae woke up. She needed to pee. This was getting old, not sleeping through the night.

      And the floor was cold. Where were her slippers? Her housecoat was on the chair where she’d left it, but the slippers were missing in action.

      Rae opened her door and headed down the hall. A night-light had been plugged into one of the wall sockets, probably for Autumn’s benefit, but Rae was grateful for it, too.

      From the far end of the hall, a line of light glowed beneath the door to Aidan’s room.

      Why was he up at this hour?

      Probably he couldn’t fall asleep. Rae could understand. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she hadn’t slept at all for several nights. It wasn’t her fault that Aidan had discovered the news so late, and Rae refused to feel guilty about it. If Aidan hadn’t deliberately isolated himself from her, he would have known.

      She slipped into the bathroom, took care of business, then headed back to her room. She’d almost made it, too, when Aidan’s door opened.

      He was still wearing the jeans and shirt he’d had on earlier in the evening.

      “Having trouble sleeping?” he asked her.

      “That last glass of water was a big mistake.” She tightened the sash on her bathrobe. Which was another mistake, since she only ended up emphasizing the roundness of her stomach. She saw Aidan’s gaze go there. Linger there.

      Hey, buddy. I have a face.

      “What about you?” she asked, grudgingly. “Need a sleeping pill?” She couldn’t use them in her condition, but she had them in the travel bag she always took on business trips.

      “I’ll pass. One sleepless night won’t kill me.”

      Despite her determination to stay tough, she felt a twinge of sympathy for him. “You’ve had a bit of a shock.”

      “I’ll say.”

      She waited for him to upbraid her again, for not sharing the news sooner. And if he even tried, she was more than prepared to fight back.

      But in his eyes she saw more resignation than outrage.

      “So,” she said. “Will you be leaving in the morning?” On the drive home he’d made it clear that he wouldn’t be staying any longer than necessary.

      “That’s what I’ve been thinking about.”

      He leaned a hand on the door frame and she tried not to notice how good he looked. He skied to stay in shape—skied and mountain biked. Clearly his regimen worked, because he had not gained an ounce since their night together in Philadelphia.

      It wasn’t fair. If babies couldn’t be produced simply with test tubes and incubators, couldn’t the process at least require the man to gain weight, too?

      “So,” she prodded. “The results of all this thinking are…?”

      “For eight months you’ve been dealing with this—” he cleared his throat “—this pregnancy, on your own.”

      “True.”

      “It’s time I did my share.”

      “Great.” She cupped her hands around her belly. “I’ll just slip this off and hand it over.”

      His grin was the first sign she’d been given that he still had a sense of humor.

      “I’ll bet you wish you could.”

      “You have no idea.”

      He realized she’d been leaning against the wall. “I’m sorry. I’m

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