MARCO WOKE IN such a good mood the next morning that Eleanora almost couldn’t stand his chipper tone.
When she walked into the kitchen area, still wearing her pajamas, he grinned at her, raced around the center island and pulled her to him for a kiss.
She swore she was light-headed when he finally released her.
“I’m sorry.”
She frowned. “For?”
“For some of the things I said last night. For whatever it was that made you sleep in your own bed.”
“Exhaustion.” She winced. “Honestly, Marco, I went to that room out of habit and just stayed there.”
He laughed. “You were just confused?”
“And tired.”
“All that stuff you said about me moving and visitation that was you being tired?”
“No. Most of it was the way I feel. We have to remember that our baby isn’t a football we’ll be tossing across the Atlantic. It’s a tiny person.” She took a breath. “And the one good idea we’d thought we’d come up with, actually means the nanny will be the constant in his or her life. We have to decide if that’s what we want.”
“For our baby to know the nanny better than he or she knows us?”
She nodded. “Exactly.”
He fell to one of the chairs around the kitchen island.
“Don’t let this overwhelm you.” She caught his gaze so he could see her sincerity. “But really think about it. Even if it means you getting less time with the baby, wouldn’t you rather have him or her know who their parents are, rather than being closer to the nanny?”
She could almost see that situation settling in his brain. As he thought through what she’d said, she helped herself to some breakfast. “It’s weird for me to be eating breakfast.”
He turned on the stool. “It’s good for you to be eating breakfast.”
She took her plate of scrambled eggs, fried ham and toast to the island and sat beside him. “I have to wonder if I’m making habits that I won’t be able to break.”
He sniffed a laugh. “You gaining weight is the least of our problems right now.”
“Says the guy who isn’t watching his careful eating plan go to hell in a fried ham sandwich.”
He laughed and rose. “I’ve already said I wished I could be more involved. But there are some things I can’t do.”
“Yeah.”
“Are you working from home today?”
“I shouldn’t. I know the rumor about me being pregnant is all over Rome by now and it’s probably bobbing around the corporate office.”
“My executive staff brought it up at a board meeting. It’s definitely bobbing around the corporate office.”
“I should go into the office, looking not pregnant—”
“Not looking pregnant...yet,” he reminded her. “People aren’t dumb. When you start to show, they’ll be doing the math in their heads. But right now, it’s all just speculation.”
She conceded that with a nod. “Staying home is the better idea, then. Plus, I seem to get so much more work done here.”
“Then work from here.”
“You can make all these decisions easily because you’re the boss. I’m just a coworker to all these people who are talking about me being pregnant.”
After a few seconds, he calmly said, “I never thought of it that way, but I see what you’re saying.”
“Maybe the best thing to do would be for you to tell your dad so we can break the news at the office. It might cause rampant rumors for a few weeks but then it would be over.”
His calm cracked a little. She could tell he forced a smile. “Okay.”
Her comment about breaking the news at the office followed Marco out of his penthouse and to work.
He’d barely had time to slip out of his overcoat before his personal phone rang. A quick glance at caller ID showed it was his dad. A video call no less.
“Hey, Dad!”
“Hey, Marco! Look at this.”
His dad flipped the phone around to show him a quick visual of the cabin. “What do you think?”
The camera hadn’t been on the cabin long enough for Marco to see if his dad was asking for Marco’s thoughts on something he’d done or for his suggestions on what should be done.
“I don’t know, Dad. I’m going to leave all cabin decisions up to you. Look, there’s something I have to tell you—”
His dad’s eyes widened. “What? What happened?”
The guy who had gone to the cabin to rest and get things ready went from happy and calm to panicked in the blink of an eye.
“Every year something happens to ruin our holiday.” Joshua shook his head. “I honestly thought this year would be different.”
“It will be.”
“Then what’s the crisis?”
“No crisis,” Marco assured him. He took a beat to consider what would happen if he told his dad Eleanora was pregnant. A man who didn’t have a grandchild should be thrilled at the possibility of getting one.
But the issue was Eleanora. Not getting married. Trying to raise a baby when they lived on different sides of the Atlantic. In that beat of time, he realized he had to have answers to these questions or his discussion with his dad might turn out no better than the discussion they’d had with the DeLucas.
Meaning, he couldn’t tell the staff at the corporate office until they had answers enough that they could tell his dad.
He finished the call with his dad, emphatically promising him that he would be at the cabin the twenty-third because that was the one thing Joshua was holding on to.
Right now, he and Eleanora had to come to some concrete decisions for what would be the best for their baby. Once they did that, he was sure they could get her parents and his dad to look away from their dislike of Marco and Eleanora not getting married and to the fact that they were getting a grandchild. And not be concerned about the other issues involved, like who’d be traveling across the Atlantic.
Realizing how true that was, he relaxed. He and Eleanora would talk again that night and the next night and the next night, until they figured this out.
He returned to the penthouse after work ready to talk. Unfortunately, his phone rang before he even took off his coat. There was an issue in one of their West Coast hotels and he had to leave Manhattan for two days. When he finally returned, Eleanora had already left for Rome.
The feeling of being alone swept over him as he sat with Sunrise and Sunset eating dinner in front of the TV. He expected her to call—hoped for her to call—but she didn’t. Even work seemed oddly empty. Which confused him so much that when his dad called again, he almost broached the subject of Eleanora being pregnant, but he remembered his plan. Until he and Eleanora knew what they were doing, he wouldn’t tell his dad. He wouldn’t tell anyone else. Instead, he listened to his dad ramble on about drywall and priming before painting.
When Eleanora returned the week before Christmas, he was so happy to see her that he grabbed her by the shoulders and kissed her soundly before wheeling her suitcase back to his room. He was not taking any chances on her mood tonight.
She laughed. “I wasn’t going to go to the wrong room.”
“Just a precaution,” he said, trying to sound light and friendly.
“Well, I slept on the plane. I have my full thinking capacity and tons of energy.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “Now that sounds promising.”
“It is.”
The smile in her eyes told him she had missed him as much as he missed her, and he reached another level of relief.
They ate a leisurely dinner, then made love in the shower and again when they finally went to bed.
A feeling of perfect peace settled over him. “I got a call from my dad today.”
She raised herself to her elbow and smiled down at him. “You did?”
“Yeah. He’s going nuts at the cabin. Fixing things. Painting things. Showing me videos on my phone.”
She laughed.
Suddenly, everything clicked back to normal with the two of them talking like the good friends that they were—
Of course, they weren’t discussing custody or visitation or sharing a nanny—
He stopped his thoughts. He had to. He’d been so damned lonely for her while he was gone, then while she was gone that he’d come to an important conclusion. If all the time he’d get with her were the months until she had the baby, he wanted them to be perfect. They would decide some broad and general things now so he could tell his dad. Then they could argue and fight out the things that popped up after the baby was born—
But that was really the point. He wanted to remember—and he wanted her to remember—that they liked each other and were a team. The best way to do that would be to be a team for the last week they had together.
Right at this moment, with her nestled against him, calm and content, they were a team who liked each other.
This was what he had to keep—this mood, this sense of cooperation and liking each other and trusting each other. Good friends that they were, they should make wonderful parents.
They fell asleep spooned together. His vow of keeping their closeness intact, even after the baby was born, no matter what he had to do, ran through his brain as if on an endless loop. He did not want to say or do anything wrong.
His conviction shook a bit on Saturday when she went Christmas shopping alone. Sunday, she walked out of her bedroom dressed in joggers and told him she was going for a walk. He expected her to take the cats. Instead, she went alone.
After the elevator doors closed behind her, he cursed. “How the hell am I supposed to prove to her that we’re a team when she never stays home?”
Sunrise and Sunset looked at him.
“Hey, she’s the one being weird, not me.”
Both cats stared at him, condemningly.
He sighed. “Okay, let’s think this through. Let’s figure out how to get her to warm up again.” He thought for a second, then said, “She’d come out of her bedroom dressed for her walk. She hadn’t had breakfast.” He snapped his fingers. “I’ll make breakfast. I’ll have everything ready but the eggs when she gets back.”
Sunrise tilted his head as if he thought any idea that involved food was sound. Sunset rose and trotted back to his sunny spot on the floor by the window.
Regardless of what Sunset thought, Marco gathered the things he would need to make breakfast, but he stopped. Her favorite food was toasted cheese sandwiches. He would make toasted cheese sandwiches for breakfast. That would make her laugh and make her happy. Hopefully, it would also dissolve whatever reason she had for always putting distance between them.
Feeling like the smartest guy on the planet, he buttered bread, grated cheese—for easier melting—and was ready when the elevator bell signaled she was back.
She walked out of the elevator pulling her gloves from her fingers and her knit cap off her head.
“How was your walk?”
“Freezing! We might not have snow for Christmas but it sure as hell is cold enough that we could.”
“How about a nice warm toasted cheese sandwich?”
She looked at him for a second, then joyfully said, “I’m not hungry.”
She sounded so relieved he would have laughed had she not spoiled his romantic gesture.
“Oh, thank heaven! I feel like my stomach is returning to normal.”
He eyed the grated cheese and buttered bread. “That’s great.”
She finally saw that he’d already started the process. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to mess up your plans. You can still make a sandwich for yourself.”
“Or we could eat them for lunch.”
She winced. “I have plans.”
Words failed him. It was the last thing he’d expected she’d say. But why wouldn’t she have plans? She’d gone from being a penthouse homebody to someone who raced out every chance she got.
Something had to be wrong.
Really wrong.
“One of my friends is coming into town to shop. We’re going to grab lunch.”
He pulled away from the kitchen island. He was going to have to do more than make her a sandwich to bring her back around. Except she didn’t seem angry with him or even upset. She actually seemed happy.
“Okay. Enjoy your lunch.”
She smiled. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Yeah.” He batted his hand. “I wanted to get some work done this morning anyway.”
“Okay.”
She walked back to the bedroom.
He suddenly considered joining her, maybe tempting her into making love so she could remember that she liked his company, but he was back to being miffed at her. Why? Because she was happy? He wasn’t that shallow.
Because she was happy without him? Again. Not that shallow.
Because she was clearly picking up her old life, looking forward to making a new life—without him—
Yes. That was the winner.
He stalked to the office, where he brooded instead of working. Around eleven, she opened the door and poked her head inside the room.
“I’m leaving now.”
He forced a smile. “Have a good time.”
“I will!”
Okay. They were going to have to talk. For real. Unfortunately, he had no idea what to say. He had no right to stop her from having a life.
Eleanora left the penthouse and stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, looking both ways to see if she could find her rideshare. She spotted it and got inside.
The driver, a young woman with yellow braids and a bright smile, put the car in gear and took off. After a few seconds she said, “I’m Mandy.”
Eleanora smiled. “I’m Eleanora.”
“Going shopping?”
“No. Having lunch with a friend who is going shopping.”
“That sounds fun.”
It sounded like a desperate woman, faking fun to Eleanora, but she kept her smile in place. “Thanks.”
They reached the restaurant where Eleanora met her friend. Bootsie Montgomery had become a nurse and married a man who owned a plumbing business. They were the normal, average couple that Eleanora had always aspired being part of. Instead, she had become an executive, gotten pregnant with a man who didn’t believe in marriage and now had plans to turn herself into a woman who raised her child alone, had passionate but brief affairs and traveled.
It would have been perfect if she hadn’t fallen madly in love with Marco.
Particularly since she’d have to pretend that she liked him, as a friend, while she tried to fall out of love with him, as they raised a child together.
Sure. Piece of cake.
She returned home to find him sitting on the sofa with the cats. Sunrise was on the back of the couch, rolled in a ball behind Marco’s neck. Sunset slept on his lap.
She suddenly envisioned him ten years from now, working Sunday, and sitting with his cats watching a movie to relax.
At least her future had travel and passionate affairs in it.
Of course, if she wasn’t here right now, pregnant with his child, who knew? Maybe he’d be having a passionate but brief affair?
The image didn’t cheer her. She went back to envisioning him as a forty-two-year-old bachelor who lived with his cats.
“How was lunch?”
“Great. Bootsie is still Bootsie.”
He laughed as he rose from the sofa. “Come here. Let’s talk.”
“Actually, I’m kind of tired.”
“Okay. Get a nap. We’ll talk after. I know, while you nap, I’ll look at take-out menus and get us a great dinner, and we’ll talk while we eat.”
“Marco, I had a big lunch. I probably won’t even want dinner.” She motioned down the hall. “And I’m at the good part of my book. I think I’m just going to read.”
She walked back down the hall and he heard his bedroom door close. He took a second to appreciate that she was still in his room, but it didn’t stop that weird feeling that bubbled up.
They hadn’t had a real conversation since she’d told him how she pictured his involvement after their baby was born—No. They hadn’t had a real conversation since she’d basically admitted she expected him to bolt.
Here he was, trying to fix things, to show her that he might be a busy executive, but he intended to be a good father, and she wasn’t giving him the time to do it.
He made the toasted cheese sandwiches that he’d started that morning and they were delicious. He had a moment of pure happiness even if she’d refused to enjoy the best sandwiches he’d ever made, but it didn’t last long.
He liked her. She liked him. Their relationship wasn’t supposed to go through dips and valleys like this. They understood each other.
At least he’d always thought they did. Until her dad made his comment about him giving orders and Eleanora doing all the work.
A hockey game came on and he and his boys sat on the sofa to watch it. Others might say the cats didn’t actually watch the game, but they seemed to like the action as their eyes darted right and left following the players on the ice.
His team won and he swore Sunset wanted to high-five. His world felt righted until he went in the bedroom and found Eleanora sleeping. She’d once laughed about him sitting by the bed, watching her all night. But as he walked to her side of the bed and sat on the mattress at her hip, he realized he could do that.
With her face nestled into the pillow and her pretty red-brown hair billowing around her on the white case, she looked absolutely content and peaceful, as she rested. He thought about the difficulties of pregnancy, her tiredness, her desire to eat, the uncertainty of her future, and again he felt distanced from it all. Left out.
He thought about when she returned to Rome January 1. She’d be alone. He’d be alone. Their baby would be raised in a never-ending sea of two different houses, two different sets of family friends, two different cultures. The child of people who loved each other but were at odds.
Sitting beside her in the silent bedroom of his silent house, he knew that was the part that wasn’t right. Making love the night of the grand opening had been perfect. Discovering she was pregnant had been shocking but now seemed—as she had said—like their logical next step.
Not being able to come up with custody or visitation terms, not liking the idea of his child bouncing between two continents, not liking the fact that their living arrangements did give him a way to skip out on the important things of raising their child?
Those were the things that felt wrong.
An arrangement like this might work out perfectly well for two other people, but he and Eleanora weren’t two other people. They were Marco and Eleanora, best friends, who wanted to do things together.
The truth hit him then.
They wanted to do this together! She involved him every way she could. If she bailed on spending time with him, had lunch with a friend, it had nothing to do with their pregnancy. Nothing to do with their baby. In the end, anything, any decision that had to do with their baby, she involved him.
Because they wanted to raise this baby together.
And they should.