The Memory Child (9 page)

He liked the idea of moving into a house designed to be a home filled with childish laughter and even the barking of a family pet. Something softer. He shook his head at that thought. He couldn’t believe he used the word
soft
to describe his future home. Next thing he knew, he’d be looking at minivans and booking playdates with other stay-at-
home dads.

Brian swallowed hard. Where did that thought come from? Since when did he want to be a stay-at-home dad? He scoffed at
the idea.

“What’
s wrong?”

Brian glanced up to find Diane standing at the bottom stair in front of him, a concerned look on
her face.

He shook his head, hoping to dislodge the idea of him being
that
type of man, and forced
a smile.

“Nothing. Ready to eat?” He held out his hand and pulled her into his arms when she reached out. He loved holding her close, the feel of her body against his, knowing that in these small moments, there was nothing but them in th
eir lives.

She pulled back, her face scru
nched up.

“Brian.” She covered her nose with her hand and shook
her head.

“Oh, no, is it the garli
c bread?”

She nodded her head before running toward the bathroom. Guilt ate at him while he listened to her
retching.

Brian searched the kitchen, trying to think of what he could do to get rid of the smell. Obviously, all his hard work on the homemade garlic butter was wasted. He wrapped the bread in napkins since it was hot and threw it out in the garbage in their garage. He then went in and swung open the door off their dining area to their back porch, since there was a nice breeze. He hoped it would dispel the scent and Diane could at least enjoy the
spaghetti.

“God, I hate this.” Diane rubbed her face as she walked into the
kitchen.

Brian handed her the water he’d poured earlier. Her nose was still scru
nched up.

“I thought morning sickness only happened, well…in the
morning?”

The heated look Diane threw his way as she sipped her water told him
otherwise.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what els
e to say.

Diane slumped down on a barstool. “I’m sorry about t
he garlic
bread.”

Brian moved behind her and gently rubbed her back. She hung her head low and he worked at getting the kinks out of her neck and
shoulders.

“It’s okay. I burned it anyway,” he lied. “Is it this bad during
the day?”

Diane moaned. He took that
as a yes.

“You have some vacation time coming. Why don’t you take some d
ays off?”

“I can’t. Too many meetings booked in the nex
t month.”

Brian ground his thumbs into a tight spot on her shoulder. “Don’t you think you should slow down the pace
a little?”

Brian’s hands fell as Diane leaned forward and twiste
d to look
at him.

“I can’t. You know that. Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t give me any leeway
at work.”

Brian sat on the stool beside her. “I don’t want you to run yourself ragged, that’s all. It’s not good for you or t
he baby.”

Diane shook
her head.

“I’m just worried about you.” He knew she wouldn’t give herself any downtime even though she was
pregnant.

“Maybe once I’m further along and people know, but for now,
I can’t.”

He bit his tongue to keep from responding and instead focused on filling their plates with noodles, until he thought about what she’d
just said.

“Wait a minute.” His hand stilled above the pot of sauce. “You haven’t told
Walter?”

Diane shook
her head.

This surprised him. From the way Walter had spoken at the party, he figured she’d
told him.

“Does anyone know?” He waited to see if she’d have the decency to look at him, but sh
e didn’t.

Brian’s shoulders slumped. He didn’t understand why she was so
hesitant.

She got up from the stool and rounded the island to stand beside him. “I just want to wait. To keep this as our secret for now.” Her arms wound around his waist and she laid her head on
his back.

“For how long?” How long did she want to deny the changes coming their way? Pretty soon, she would start showing.
Then what?

“Until I know I
can cope.”

Brian linked his fingers through Diane’s. He knew in that moment that he really had no idea what this was doin
g to her.

Her fingers wrenched from his as she ran out of the kitchen, her words filling the silence in thei
r kitchen.

“God, I hate this,” she said, repeating her earlier
sentiment.

He couldn’t believe the amount of information available online for men with expectant spouses. Diane had barely eaten at dinner and then headed upstairs without another word. He knew when he heard the water going that she was having a bath. He had watched her visibly wilt during dinner and it worried him. After cleaning up the kitchen, he grabbed his laptop, sat down on the couch, and decided it was time for him to take some action. He did a quick search, narrowing down what he was looking for, and found a blog post on how husbands could support their pregn
ant wives.

Liste
n
. Check.

Help
. Diane wasn’t a woman who accepted help too easily. Besides, what was he supposed to do, hold her hair out of the way while she puked? No, that wouldn’t go over very well. The first time he had found her hunched over the toilet, she demanded he leave and then slammed the door closed with
her foot.

Be at her beck and call.
He doubted she’d be one of those women who woke up with a burger-and-milk-shake craving at two in the morning, but if she did, he’d get i
t for her.

Take her on a date.
What a great idea. Brian pulled open his calendar and checked to find a night when they would both be home. They used to schedule a date night every two weeks but somehow that idea fell to the side once things started picking up at work for both of them. He’d bring it up after her bath and see if maybe there was a movie she wante
d to see.

Be eager.
Brian sighed. He was more eager for this baby than she was. He was sure that would change; it had to. The motherly instinct would kick in and then he’d feel left out by the bond between her and the baby. He pictured her, how her body would change as the months progressed. Right now she was thin, working out religiously every morning before she headed into work. He couldn’t wait to see a little belly on her, and then watch it grow. Feel their child’s movement beneath his hands. She was going to glow, be even more beautiful than he ever thought
possible.

Show a little romance.
He’d show her a lot of romance, if it would make her happy. He used to buy her flowers weekly, but now it was once a month. He overheard her complain to a friend on the phone once that the thrill of receiving flowers waned when they arrived all the time. But maybe he could buy her other things, or even do other things. Romance wasn’t about how much money he could spend; it was about showing her he loved her. When they were first married, he used to be inventive, proud of himself for thinking outside the box when it came to being romantic. He used to write her little love notes and leave them lying around th
eir home.

Book a spa treatment for her.
She already did this herself. She had a weekly appointment booked for a massage, manicure, and all that other gir
ly stuff.

Help her relax.
That was the key. But how? She was all strung out, tense from everything happening at work. He’d almost flipped when he saw the bruising on her back and shoulders last week after her massage. Diane was used to stress and normally handled it well, but what would it do to the baby? It couldn’t be good for her body. He jotted down on the notepad beside him,
Look for relaxation techniques other tha
n massage.

Book a cleaning service.
Brian glanced around. Their house was spotless, thanks to a cleaning service Diane had had come in for the past few years now. Scratch that off
the list.

Treat her to some great maternity clothes.
Now, this one he could do. Diane loved to shop. There had to be some upscale maternity shops nearby.
Maternity gift card
,
he wr
ote down.

Let her know she’s beautiful.
Another easy thing to do. His wife was drop-dead gorgeous; always had been and always would be. Did he tell her enough? He thought he did. But knowing her, he probably could tell her more. It all depended on her mood swings. One day she’d accuse him of not being romantic enough and then another time tell him he’d gone o
verboard.

He shut the lid to his laptop and stood, stretching the kinks out of his back. Now that he had a list, something to work from to help Diane through her pregnancy, he could relax. He grabbed a beer from the kitchen and took a long swig, enjoying the cool sensation of the liquid flowing down hi
s throat.

Maybe he’d go up and see if Diane needed help drying off. He couldn’t think of a more perfect way to end the evening, especially one that didn’t start off as he’d an
ticipated.

CHAPTER NINE

T
he buzzing of a phone startled Brian from a dream full of crying babies. He rolled over and wrapped his arms around Diane, only to have her push him away. Brian snaked his arm over her waist anyway and snuggled up against her
backside.

“Hello.” Diane wiggled out of his grasp and struggled
to sit up
in bed.

Brian glanced at the alarm clock and groaned. It was three o’clock in the morning. Who on earth would call at this time? He plopped his head back down on his pillow and threw his arm over his eyes as Diane turned on her bed
side lamp.

“Walter, slow down. It’s to
o early.”

Brian lifted his arm briefly as Diane swung her legs out of bed and sat with her back to him. She leaned forward, her head in her hands, and thankfully blocked some of t
he light.

“Why is he calling?” Brian managed to mumble. Diane waved one of her hands in the air, her signal for him to leave her alone, so he rolled over and pulled the blanket over
his head.

“At least shut the light off,” he grumbled. She must have heard him, because moments later the light switched off. The slight shuffle of her feet and then the soft click of their en suite door left him alone in t
heir room.

Brian tried to listen, but Diane’s voice was muted so all he heard were whispers. Why was Walter calling her at this hour? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? Wasn’t it enough that he got her during the day; did he have to steal Brian’s nights with he
r as well?

Water ran from the sink and the door opened. A sliver of light shone into t
heir room.

“Okay, Walter. I’ll be right there. No, no, you don’t need to do anything. I’ve got it
covered.”

Brian rose up on his elbow and winced as Diane opened the doo
r farther.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I just need to grab some
clothes.”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Brian rubbed his eyes a
nd yawned.

He heard her rummage through her drawers and then the slight clink of hangers from the closet as she grabbe
d clothes.

“Walter n
eeds me.”

That caught Brian’s attention. It was the inflection in her voice, as if his needing her were all that mattere
d to her.

“So he just snaps his fingers and you come
running?”

“Brian.” She sighed heavily. “There’s an emergency with one of our overseas clients. The server is down, no one can get ahold of Neil, and so one of the front desk workers called Walter in
a panic.”

“And you’re his go-to gal even at”—Brian glanced at the clock again—“this ungodly hour. Must be nice. Do you need help?” If no one could get ahold of Neil, maybe he could help troubleshoot. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d helped i
n a pinch.

“No, Neil showed me what to do if something like this h
appened.”

“Are y
ou sure?”

“If I wanted your help, I’d as
k, okay?”

Brian kept his mouth shut. She didn’t need to bite his head off; all he did was offer to help. She’d been like this
all night.

He’d come up earlier to help Diane dry off, only to be told to leave her alone. So, he’d gone back downstairs, poured himself another glass of merlot, and watched television until he knew she would be asleep. Every time he’d tried to cuddle with her in the night she pul
led away.

He was surprised when she sat down on the edge of the bed and played with
his hair.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate the offer, I really do. But the last time you came in and saved the day for Neil, Walter held it over his head for months.” She leaned down and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Try to get som
e sleep.”

“Only if you will. You need it more than me.” He rubbed at his eyes, knowing she’d say no, and considered his options. His alarm would go off in a few hours. He could try falling back asleep or he could get up and head to the gym a bit earlier tha
n normal.

“You know
I can’t.”

Brian sighed. “Of course not. You would never think of saying no to Walter. Doesn’t matter that you’re pregnant and that it’s time you maybe put yourself first instead of him. No, you’ll just suffer, while he gets all the glory from your hard work.” He rubbed his head. “God, sometimes I hate y
our job.”

“What is wrong with you?” Diane pulled back and threw up her hands. “What happened to the caring and supportive husband who also gets three a.m. phone calls from his boss and has to go into work? I’m not an invalid, Brian; I’m not made o
f glass.”

Brian blinked. What was wrong with
him
? She really h
ad to ask
him that?

“No, but you’re pregnant, Diane, or have you forgotten that? It’s not just you that you have to worry about anymore; it’s our baby growing insid
e of you.”

“That doesn’t mean my life has to change.” Diane turned her back on him and left their
bedroom.

He couldn’t believe she’d walk away from him like that. He followed her, throwing on a pair of boxers, and grabbed his robe from the hook on
the door.

“I can’t believe you’re even arguing with me about this,” he said once he reached th
e kitchen.

Diane stood at the sink where she was drinking a glass of water. She put the glass down on the counter and turned toward him, hands on
her hips.

“Me? You’re the one being a Neanderthal. What do you expect of me? I can’t rearrange my life just because I’m pregnant. I know it’s what you think I should do, but I won’t. I can’t. That’s not who I am. I’m a businesswoman, Brian, with a promising career ahead of me, one that I’ve worked really hard for. I’m not going to allow this”—she placed her hand on her stomach for a split second—“to change w
ho I am.”

Her eyes blazed with fire as she spat out the words Brian couldn’t believe he was
hearing.

“Cha
nge you?”

Diane’s hand shot up to cover her mouth as her eyes widened. “I’m scared, Brian. I’m just scared. I don’t want…” she
whispered.

“This? Our baby? Is that what you don’t want?” Brian shook his head. He didn’t believe that. He couldn’t believe that. She was responding ou
t of fear.

“Brian, I didn’t mean that. You know that.” Stricken, Diane stepped toward him, but Brian continued to shake his head. He held out his hand, as if to
stop her.

“No. You did. We both know that. You’re just being honest about it. That’s…” He was about to say it was okay, but it wasn’t. It really wasn’t okay. He’d known in his heart that she felt this way, but he’d hoped he was wrong. Brian breathed deeply and struggled to clear his thoughts. The last thing Diane needed from him was judgment. He couldn’t push her away; there was too much
at stake.

“I know it’s a shock and that it means things are going to change. But we talked about this. We wanted this, remember?” Brian dropped his hand, his shoulders sagging as Diane shook
her head.

“No. You wanted this. I didn’t. I never have, not really. I’m happy with our life. I’m finally where I want to be professionally; we’re good, we’re happy and successful, and I don’t need anything else in
my life.”

Brian tried really hard to read past her words, to hear hope that she was afraid to admit in her voice. “You don’t mean that. I know y
ou don’t.”

Diane tugged at her lip with her teeth. “What if I do? What if I really do
mean it?”

The weight of her words, the hesitation in her voice, it knocked the wind out of him. His knees gave out and Brian was forced to grab hold of the island counter for support. She couldn’t possibly be saying what he was
hearing.

Diane stepped close and laid her cold hand
over his.

“Think about it, Brian. Having a baby now complicates things. I can’t be a stay-at-home mom, you can’t leave your position at work, and I don’t want someone else raising our child. And what if…” Her voice dropped till he could barely make out the words. “My mother was in her early thirties when she had Christopher. I’m the same age as her.” Her voice, meant to be soothing, only grated on his nerves until she whispered those l
ast words.

He didn’t know what he could do or even say to ease that fear. She was not her mother. What happened back then wasn’t going to happen now. History would not repeat itself. He wouldn
’t let it.

He gathered his strength and stood. Now wasn’t the time to discuss this. He forced himself to relax, to not visibly respond to what she was s
uggesting.

“Let’s talk about this later, okay? What if we meet at Luigi’s for a dinner? I’ll leave work a little early. If we get there as they open, we’ll have the place to ourselves, nice and quiet, and we can relax and really talk about what is happening to o
ur lives.”

Diane softened, her shoulders relaxed, and a soft smile appeared on her face. “We haven’t really talked about this,
have we?”

Brian shook
his head.

Diane stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. “Okay, that will
be good.”

Brian held her close as she laid her head on his
shoulder.

He had a day. A day to figure out how to soothe his wife’s fears, ease her mind, and prove to her that they could have their happily e
ver after.

Brian sat at the table and fiddled with the si
lverware.

Diane was late, but it didn’t help that he’d arrived earl
y either.

Today had been a complete waste. He wished he could blame it on being tired, but he was used to receiving calls in the middle of t
he night.

He just couldn
’t focus.

It didn’t take him long to realize that when it came to their baby, Diane’s needs and wants were all that mattered. She was going through an adjustment period. It was normal. It had to be. He couldn’t imagine it would be easy on any woman who was career focused. But he knew his wife. She might balk and struggle with the idea that their lives were about to change in a drastic way, but she’d eventually a
ccept it.

Once she accepted it, there would be no stopping her in ensuring their entire life revolved around makin
g it work.

And yet his stomach was
in knots.

“Mo
re wine?”

Brian nodded at the server while his cell phone buzzed. He glanced over at the front door but so far he was the only customer in the r
estaurant.

He turned over his phone that he’d laid on the table and saw a text message from Diane.
Running late. Be there soon. Order my usua
l, please.

He read that again. Her usual consisted of a glass of red wine, an order of bruschetta that they would share, and the Tuscan chicken penne. He wasn’t going to order her the wine and he’d be shocked if she could eat the bruschetta, especially after how sensitive her stomach was last night with his garlic bread—and that was after only sme
lling it.

“Can I get a glass of sparkling water with lemon and an order of your Parmesan bread, light on the garlic, please.” Brian waited for the server’s nod before he sat back and reached for his
wineglass.

“It’s been a while since you were last here.” A hand slapped Brian on the back and almost made him spill
his wine.

“Marcello, I didn’t think you were in
tonight.”

Brian set down his glass as the jovial Italian man sat down in the seat ne
xt to him.

“As soon as my Sara told me you were here, I came right over.” He smoothed the linen and readjusted the flowers in the vase in the center of the table. “Where is that lovely wife of yours? I’ve missed her smile and l
aughter.”

“She’s runni
ng late.”

“That woman needs to learn the art of relaxation. She needs to learn f
rom you.”

It was rare that someone would criticize Diane’s work ethic, but Marcello rarely minc
ed words.

They’d discovered Luigi’s when it first opened a few years ago. From the moment they entered the restaurant, they’d felt like they’d stepped into another time and place. Marcello had transformed an old cowboy-boot factory into a rustic Italian eatery, with exposed beams, a fireplace, black-and-white photos of the “old country,” and a few areas to sit comfortably on the leather sofas and chairs that ran alongside the din
ing area.