Two

Valentine’s Day. Art would make it home on time. Something told him it would be important to Josie. Days like this he wished he’d grown up with sisters. Maybe they would have taught him the important lessons on what gals expected. Maybe then he’d better understand Josie. She was an absolute puzzle to him. One he determined he’d solve.

Tonight he’d take her to dinner. Celebrate how much he loved her and how grateful he was she’d said yes. He started to straighten the ledgers and papers overflowing on his desk until they began to resemble piles.

“Ahem.” Art turned at the sound of a cleared throat.

“Yes, sir?” He stilled as he looked up at the stork-like man standing in front of his desk. He’d heard rumors that E. K. Fine II took bites out of employees with his words as he pecked away at them. The look on the man’s face puzzled Art. Why would the second Mr. Fine stand in front of his desk?

“Have you followed the news in England, young man?” Mr. Fine picked up the nameplate from Art’s desk. “Mr. Wilson?”

“It’s hard not to.”

“Yes, yes.”

Art squirmed in the growing silence as Fine looked over his glasses at him. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

“We have a small plant in England, you know. I’m concerned about our workers there. Their families.”

Art couldn’t imagine living with the threat of Germans bombing his home in the middle of the night. Here, the renewed aerial attacks punctuated the headlines. There, the shock of air raid sirens wrenched you from sleep.

“Terrible times.”

“I’ve never been more glad to live here.”

Mr. Fine nodded. “Any family in England?”

“Distant cousins, I think.” Art shrugged. “My mother keeps up on those family relationships.”

“Well. I’ll leave you to your duties.” The man ambled out of the accounting department. Art watched him leave and wondered what the conversation had really been about.

He cleared the surface of his desk and smiled. The workday was over. Art punched out and walked the mile home. The best feature of their apartment was its closeness to work. Most weeks, his vehicle sat off the alley. Josie could use it if she needed, though he didn’t think she ever had.

After sitting behind a desk all day, he enjoyed the feel of sunshine on his face, even as he hunkered inside his coat against the cold. He squinted at the sinking sun. Tried to imagine what it would be like to live with the fear that each time he glanced up he might see an enemy plane headed his way. And all he had to worry about was doing his job well and loving Josie. His Josie. His steps quickened at the thought of seeing her again. Their good-bye kiss this morning seemed days ago instead of mere hours.

❧

Josie pushed a hand into her stomach. It hadn’t stopped roiling all day. Well, there had been moments she’d felt normal. Then she’d smell something, and her stomach betrayed her again. She couldn’t think of anything she’d eaten that would make her feel this way. She should get supper started but grimaced at the thought and covered her mouth to still the nausea.

Maybe a salad would work. No scents involved there. She opened the icebox door and stared inside. Nothing appealed to her.

The apartment door groaned as it swung open.

“I’m home.” Art’s boisterous voice filled the small rooms.

Josie took a deep breath and steeled herself before turning around. Maybe if she was stern enough with it, her stomach would cooperate. “Hi, honey. Good day?”

“A fine one. But the best part is we’re going out for dinner. The cook gets the night off as we celebrate Valentine’s Day with a steak, maybe see a movie, then a kiss.” He waggled his eyebrows and smiled, the one that normally sent a flood of warmth through her. Instead, Josie clutched her stomach and tried not to groan at the thought of food. His face fell. “Don’t want to go out on the town? I thought you’d enjoy that. We can even see that cartoon Pinocchio if you want.”

The pout in his voice made her smile. “I would love it.”

The smile reappeared on his face.

Josie sighed. “But I haven’t felt very well all day.”

“Do we need to get you to the doctor?”

Josie laughed. “That’s not necessary. Just a touchy stomach. I bet I’m better by tomorrow. Do you mind if we stay in tonight? I’ll heat some soup, and then we can spend a quiet evening together.”

“As long as you don’t pull out one of your puzzles.”

“All right. I’ll let you read Gone with the Wind to me, instead.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee.” He pushed his hand against his heart and grinned. “Anything to make my lady feel better.” He pulled her toward him. “Just don’t tell anybody about this.”

“And who would I tell?” She snuggled next to him, close enough to hear the steady beat of his heart. “It’s our secret.” Josie wasn’t sure it would make her feel better, but it might distract her. If nothing else, watching all-male Art reading a romance would take her mind off her crazy stomach. And maybe tomorrow they could go out.

Art leaned down until his forehead touched hers. He gazed into her eyes as if searching for her very heart. Didn’t he know he’d claimed it the moment he swept into the Dayton theater with his grandma on his arm? It had been Christmas time, a showing of the Nutcracker. Josie hadn’t taken her eyes off him as she watched him guide his grandma through the crowd. He’d been so chivalrous toward the woman. It didn’t hurt that his hair was the color of a dark chocolate bar and curled ever so slightly around his ears. Josie must have caught his eye, too, since he’d made his way to her side. That had been the first of their many interactions. Through them all, she’d learned while he was easy to look at, his heart was even better.

An easy smile reached his eyes.

She tried to catch her breath at his intensity. “Find what you’re looking for?”

“Um-hm.” He leaned in and captured her lips with his.

❧

The next morning, Josie struggled to get out of bed. The warmth of the comforter seemed to push her down. The pillow snuggled against her cheek, making it hard to lift her head. She’d wanted to see Art off to his job with a smile and a kiss, but couldn’t find the energy. Her stomach roiled at the thought of doing anything, and fatigue overwhelmed her. Ugh. She had to do something. Sitting in bed wasn’t a valid option. Her mother’s voice echoed in her mind, telling her idle hands are the devil’s tools. Josie had never liked the phrase, but since the move, she hadn’t worked hard to stay busy.

Maybe a job would help. Give her a schedule beyond getting dinner on the table for Art. An important task, but not enough to keep her mind engaged all day. Only a few days a week, though. She curled up in the bed and tugged Grandma’s quilt to her chin. Her fingers played with the edge of the soft fabric. Some of her earliest memories involved sitting on the floor, playing while Grandma and her friends stitched quilt after quilt. Josie had hoped one day she would receive one. Now she had the one that had graced Grandma and Grandpa’s bed for years. The wedding ring pattern testified to the hours of love Grandma had poured into its making. Each stitch was filled with the hope and commitment of the decades Grandma and Grandpa loved. Now, Josie and Art could add to that legacy.

Such a rich heritage.

Josie’s hand pressed into her stomach. She rubbed it in small circles, trying to ease the waves of nausea.

Her mind wandered through the reasons she could feel so poorly. It didn’t seem like the flu. She hadn’t had any fevers—just the uncomfortable sensation. A shivery feeling collided with the butterflies. A pulse of hope and fear. It couldn’t be what she thought, could it?

Well, only one way to know for sure. Taking a deep breath, she called the doctor and made an appointment. She considered walking the couple miles to the office, then opted for the trolley. After she climbed on, she decided the Packard would have been a better choice. The swaying and clacking of the trolley kept her stomach bobbing and weaving.

After a few stops, the trolley reached the intersection nearest the office. Josie hopped down and entered the office. Once checked in, she flipped through a stack of Saturday Evening Posts as she waited. Nothing distracted her from the only possibility that made sense.

What would she do if the doctor told her she could expect a baby to join her family? She took a deep breath and willed her heart rate to slow. She and Art wanted children. It would be wonderful news to hear that their family would start now. She’d push past the fear of what had happened to Aunt Gertie. If she’d been at a hospital, she and the baby would have survived, and that was years ago. Now things were different. And Cincinnati hospitals were much better equipped if an emergency arose.

“Mrs. Wilson?” The nurse stood at the door. Josie gathered her purse and coat. “This way please.”

Josie followed her, unsure why she felt so certain of the answer. Her mother would think she was crazy to come see the doctor over something as simple and routine as a baby. But she needed to know. Was she crazy? Or was her body trying to tell her something?

The doctor bustled into the area. “How can I help you?”

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“Congratulations. That’s great news.” He studied her. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes.” She took a steadying breath and matched his smile. “How can I know for sure?”

After the examination, Josie pulled her clothes on and collected her thoughts. Waves of excitement pushed aside her earlier fears. It wouldn’t be her and Art alone for long.

She returned home, trying to figure out how to share the news with Art. He’d been so eager to start a family, talking constantly about having children from the day he’d asked her to marry him. This moment should be one he remembered, but nothing came to her. It felt like her mind had turned into a blank canvas. She stood at the sink, trying to prepare something for dinner. The water dripped in the dishpan, but Josie didn’t notice until drops landed on her foot. She turned off the faucet, grabbed a dishtowel, and wiped up the puddle. The front door banged against the wall, and Josie jumped, cracking her head against the sink. “Ouch.”

“Is the loveliest bride in the world home?” Art’s voice teased as he strode into the kitchen.

Josie rubbed her head and tried to clear the fog.

Art leaned in for a kiss. He stopped before he claimed her lips. “How was your day?”

“Wonderful.” A purr slipped into her voice, and she watched his face contort in hopeful confusion. Hmm, maybe she needed to work on how she welcomed him. “But probably not as exciting as yours.” If only he knew. . .

“Another day marshalling pages of numbers into order. Love the routine of getting them to line up and flow across the pages.” He rubbed his hands together and then stepped back to lean against the table. He sniffed the air. “Want to go out to celebrate tonight since nothing’s started?”

A burning sensation squeezed her throat. No. She swallowed and smiled. Tonight they would celebrate the beginning of their dreams. And somehow she’d manage to keep the food down. In time, this too would pass, replaced by the other sensations of a baby. Inside her.

His thumb brushed her cheek. She leaned into his hand. “I’d love to celebrate. Give me a few minutes, okay?”

He nodded and pulled his hand away. She felt a chill and hurried to the bedroom. Josie eased to the vanity and brushed her hair, then touched up her makeup. A fresh light shone from her eyes. She couldn’t wait to hear Art’s reaction. Something in his only child upbringing made him hungry for the patter of little feet. She couldn’t imagine a better gift to give him. After they pulled on coats, he escorted her down the stairs and to the Packard. “Where would my lovely lady like to eat?”

Josie shook her head. “Oh no. You get to surprise me.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes as the Packard rolled over the streets. Art stroked her hand with his thumb. She almost purred all over again. The car slowed, and she opened her eyes. Warm lights spilled from a storefront, surrounded by others shrouded in darkness. The light played off the snow drifts along the sidewalk. Art helped her from the car and led her to the door. A woman met them as they entered.

“Right this way.”

Josie settled into a chair that Art pushed in for her. The small dining room was filled with bistro tables and patrons. A spicy aroma wafted from the kitchen. A waitress walked by with several plates of food, and Josie’s stomach flipped as the scent got stronger. She swallowed and pressed a hand against her stomach, urging it to cooperate.

Art looked at her, a question in his gaze. “Are you okay?”

Josie nodded but kept her lips sealed, afraid to speak.

“Maybe you need to see a doctor?”

“I did.” Heat eased up her cheeks at the thought.

“What?”

“I saw a doctor this afternoon.” Josie took a breath. How to make this moment everything he wanted?

Art worried his lower lip between his teeth. “You’d better tell me, Josie. Nothing can be as bad as all this.”

“No, this is wonderful news. Art, know how you always talk about wanting to be a dad?” A glimpse of hope flashed on his face. Josie didn’t want to hide her smile any longer. “I’m pregnant.” Art’s mouth dropped, and a big grin cracked his face.

“Really?”

Josie nodded as tears slipped down her cheeks. Her dream of becoming a mother, having children to dote on, was coming true.

He reached toward her as if to pull her into his arms but couldn’t reach her around the table. “That’s wonderful news, Josie.”

Josie swiped at her cheeks. “I know. I thought we could have some time to be us, but God had different plans. I’ll be more excited when I don’t feel sick.” He shared her excitement, and Josie loved Art all over again. This baby came straight from God’s hand. The thought stilled her racing heart. God had decided this was the time for her to be a mommy. Excitement escalated inside her. “I’ve always loved babies.”

Art scooted his chair around the table and pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her head. “Wow. It’ll be great. And you’ll feel better soon, right?”

“Yes, Dr. Nathan said likely in a few weeks.” That was definitely good news. She couldn’t wait for her stomach to settle. The sooner the better. Yesterday would have been great. A smile spread on her face. Soon she’d walk the baby in a carriage. And the cradle could fit in the corner of the bedroom.

“We’ll be great parents to the little guy.”

If the giddy look on Art’s face served as any indication, then she had nothing to fear. The bubble of excitement expanded. They were really going to be parents. She couldn’t stop her grin. “What’s that about a little boy? It might be a girl.”

Art leaned back and looked into her eyes. “Either will be fine, as long as the little girl looks like her mommy.”

“I’m going to be a mommy.” Her voice shook on the words.

“You’ll be wonderful.” A feather soft kiss touched her brow.