The alarm blared and Jamie rolled onto her back, swung out one arm and flipped off the buzzer. The irritating noise was replaced with the gentle sounds of the soft rock station she listened to each morning.
The bed was warm and cozy and she didn’t relish the thought of crawling out into the dark, cold world, especially on a Monday morning. It was far more pleasant to linger beneath layers of blankets, thinking about the good things that were happening between her and Rich.
They hadn’t seen much of each other in the past week because Rich was involved in a defense project for Boeing. He’d worked three to four hours overtime every night, plus both days of the weekend. Yet he called her every day without fail, usually late in the evening.
He sounded so frustrated at not seeing her as often as he wanted. As often as she wanted. Jamie had done her best to pretend it didn’t matter, but it did. She missed him dreadfully, although their nighttime phone conversations went a long way toward making up for that.
They were like a pair of teenagers talking on the phone. There wasn’t really a lot to discuss, yet they often spent an hour or more chatting and laughing as if it had been weeks since they’d last spoken. Afterward, Jamie would spend the rest of the night swaddled in happiness.
Rich was exhausted whenever he called her. Although he’d never said as much, she had the impression he hurried out of the office and drove straight home just so he could talk to her.
Although they hadn’t actually seen each other since the week before, Jamie felt encouraged by the way their relationship was developing. They were close, closer than they’d been at any time since high school. It seemed natural for her life to be so closely entwined with his. Natural and right.
Everything was going so well for them, she thought again. Rich seemed pleased when she rescheduled her appointment with Dr. Fullerton. Jamie often fantasized about their child—boy or girl, she’d be delighted and she knew he would, too.
Stretching her arms high above her head, she yawned loudly and kicked away the covers. Although she’d prefer to laze the morning away thinking about Rich and their future, she had to shower and get ready for work.
Still yawning, she sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. The room started to sway. Jamie exhaled slowly and closed her eyes. The sensation worsened until she was forced to put her head back on the pillow. The dizziness was followed by a surge of nausea.
Apparently she was suffering from a relapse of the flu. Wasn’t she?
* * *
Jason called Rich at the office early Tuesday morning. “I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he said, giving the reason for his call. “I thought I’d check in to see how everything’s going with you and Jamie.”
“Fine,” Rich said, studying a design layout on his desk. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he worked. “I appreciated your words of wisdom the other night.” However, as Rich recalled, Jason had been more concerned with getting him out of his apartment than shedding any new light on Rich’s muddled marriage.
Rich had been more shaken that night than he’d realized. The mere mention of the word divorce had thrown him. It had also forced him to deal with the depth of his love for Jamie and had set his determination to do everything within his power to make their marriage work.
“So things between you and Jamie are better?”
“So far, so good.”
“No more talk of a divorce?”
“None.” Thank God, Rich mused.
“Then you’ve agreed to her terms?”
“More or less.” It was the terms they’d both agreed to—only he wanted to change the rules now. All he needed was a few days to convince Jamie how crazy she was about him. It shouldn’t be that difficult, especially when he was already so much in love with her, as long as he could get a few hours free from work. Which was difficult right now, with that defense contract gearing up.
“What does ‘more or less’ mean?” Jason wanted to know.
“It means,” Rich said, his words heavy with impatience, “that I intend to make this marriage real.” He glanced around to be sure no one in the office across the hall from him could hear. This wasn’t the way he wanted his fellow workers to learn he was a married man.
“How does Jamie feel about this, or—” Jason hesitated “—does she know?”
“She will soon enough.” Rich had never felt more frustrated. The defense project was taking all his time; knowing he’d volunteered for it didn’t help, either. He’d been single at the time, but his life had changed and he was a married man. Sort of a married man. One who longed to be a real husband to his wife.
“I don’t suppose you’ve considered telling Mom and Dad that you’re married, have you?”
Jason should’ve gone into police work, Rich mused. He certainly possessed interrogation skills.
“It wouldn’t hurt, you know,” Jason added.
Rich frowned. “Is there any reason I should tell them?”
Jason’s chuckle annoyed him. “Not really,” his brother said. “Just promise me you’ll let me be there when you do.”
Rich didn’t find any humor in his teasing. “I will when the time’s right.” That might take longer than he’d originally planned, thanks to all the overtime he’d been putting in lately. Informing his parents that he and Jamie were married, and had been for the past six weeks, wasn’t a task he relished. Of course, the longer he waited, the more offended they’d be.
“Talk to you later.”