"Do you like it?" she asked and slowly whirled around showing off the dress to full advantage. "Lindy bought it for me. She said she found it on sale and couldn’t resist. It was the craziest thing because I’d tried on this very dress and loved it, but decided I really couldn’t afford to be spending money on myself. She gave me a silver baby rattle, too. I have a feeling Aunt Lindy is going to spoil this baby."
"You look… marvelous."
"I’m getting so fat," she said, and chuckled. To prove her point, she scooped her hands under the soft swell of her abdomen and turned sideways to show him. She smiled, and her eyes sparkled as she jerked her head toward him and announced, "The baby just kicked."
"Can I feel?" Steve had done everything he could to convince himself this child was his. Unfortunately he knew otherwise. But he loved Carol, and he’d love her baby. He would learn to – already he truly cared about her child. Without this pregnancy there was no way of knowing if they would ever have gotten back together.
"Here." She reached for his hand and placed it over the top of her stomach. "Feel anything?"
He shook his head. "Nothing."
"Naturally she’s going to play a game of cat and mouse now."
Steve removed his hand and flexed his fingers. Some of the happiness he’d experienced earlier seeped out of him, replaced with a low-grade despondency. He wanted her baby to be his with a desperation that threatened to destroy him. But he couldn’t change the facts.
"I checked the paper and the movie starts at seven," Carol said, interrupting his thoughts.
He glanced at his watch. "We’d better not waste any time then." While Carol opened the entryway closet and removed a light sweater and her purse, Steve noted the two gallons of paint sitting on the floor.
"What are you painting?" he asked.
"The baby’s room. I thought I’d tackle that project this weekend. I suddenly realized how much I have to do yet to get ready."
"Do you want any help?" He made a halfhearted offer, and wished almost immediately that he hadn’t. It wasn’t the painting that dissuaded him. Every time Carol so much as mentioned anything that had to do with the baby, her eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. His reaction was just as automatic, too. He was jealous, and that was the last thing he wanted Carol to know.
She closed the closet door and studied him, searching his eyes. He boldly met her look, although it was difficult, and wasn’t disappointed when she shook her head. "No thanks, I’ve got everything under control."
"You’re sure?"
"Very."
There was no fooling Carol. She might as well have read his thoughts, because she knew and her look told him as much.
"I’m trying," he said, striving for honesty. "I really am trying."
"I know," she murmured softly.
They barely spoke on the way to the theater and Carol hardly noticed what was happening with the movie. She’d witnessed that look on Steve’s face before when she started talking about the baby. So many subjects were open to them except that one. She didn’t know any man more blind than Steve Kyle. If she were to stand up in the middle of the show and shout out that she was having his child, he wouldn’t hear her. He’d buried his head so deep in the sand when it came to her pregnancy that his brain was plugged.
Time would teach him, if only she could hold on to her patience until then.
Steve didn’t seem to be enjoying the movie any more than she was. He shifted in his seat a couple of times, crossed and uncrossed his legs and munched on his popcorn as if he were chewing bullets.
Carol shifted, too. She was almost six months pregnant and felt eight. The theater seat was uncomfortable and the baby had decided to play baseball, using Carol’s ribs for batting practice.
She braced her hands against her rib cage and leaned to one side and then scooted to the other.
"Are you all right?" Steve whispered halfway through the feature film.
Carol nodded. She wanted to explain that the baby was having a field day, exploring and kicking and struggling in the tight confines of her compact world, but she avoided any mention of the pregnancy.
"Do you want some more popcorn?"
Carol shook her head. "No thanks."
Ten minutes passed in which Carol did her utmost to pay attention to the show. She’d missed so much of the plot already that it was difficult to understand what was happening.
Feeling Steve’s stare, Carol diverted her attention to him. He was glaring at her abdomen, his eyes wide and curious. "I saw him move," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. "I couldn’t believe it. He’s so strong."
"She," Carol corrected automatically, smiling. She took his hand and pressed it where she’d last felt the baby kick. He didn’t pull away but there was some reluctance in his look.
The baby moved again, and Carol nearly laughed aloud at the astonishment that played over Steve’s handsome features.
"My goodness," he whispered. "I had no idea."
"Trust me," she answered, and grinned. "I didn’t, either."
Irritated by the way they were disrupting the movie, the woman in the row in front of them turned around to press her finger over her lips. But when she saw Steve’s hand on Carol’s stomach, she grinned indulgently and whispered, "Never mind."
Steve didn’t take his hand away. When the baby punched her fist on the other side of Carol’s belly, she slid his hand over there. She loved the slow, lazy grin that curved up the edges of his mouth. The action caused her to smile too. She tucked her hand over his and soon they both went back to watching the action on the screen. But Steve kept his fingers where they were for the rest of the movie, gently caressing the rounded circle of her tummy.
By the time the film was over, Carol’s head was resting on Steve’s shoulder. Although the surgery had been weeks before, it continued to surprise her how quickly she tired. She’d worked that day and was exhausted. It irritated her that she could be so weak. Steve had mentioned getting something to eat after the movie, but she was having difficulty hiding her yawns from him.
"I think I’d better take you home," he commented once they were outside the theater.