Weeks passed since the accident, and things were just getting back to normal, mostly. The Doctor took Natalie off of bed rest, and Erin’s bones were healing. Erin took it like a champ. We suspected she enjoyed the attention and all the selfies she took of herself in her casts. Erin’s friends from ballet class came by the house most days. Natalie became very friendly with the mothers, and many of them offered her advice on her pregnancy and for when the baby arrived.
Erin attended physical therapy, and she was improving every day. Her injuries were minor considering it was an accident with two fatalities. The man driving the truck also died in the accident. Erin’s mother drove intoxicated behind the wheel. Eyewitnesses said she swerved all over the road, driving slow then speeding until she crossed over the divider. The police reported numerous people called into the station, but they were too late getting to her. The man she killed was only thirty years old. He wasn’t married, but he had a family destroyed by his death.
Natalie and I were thankful that Erin lived and that her injuries minor considering the loss of two lives. Natalie asked me to go to the young man’s wake and funeral since she the doctor had her on bed rest. I didn’t want to, but I did it for her. When it was over, I was glad I went. At an appropriate time, I explained to the family who I was, and I expected them to shun me, but instead, they embraced me. They expressed their sorrow but were so thankful Erin lived.
Having Erin living with us full time went easier than I expected. We cremated Erin’s mother, my ex, and we had a memorial service for her. I put her house up for sale and moved Erin’s things into ours. I thought Erin would’ve acted devastated by the loss of her mother but she’d yet to show signs of any severe emotional trauma. She talked about it with us, not so much talked about her mother but more about death. Natalie suggested we keep an eye on her and have her talk to a professional if we saw signs of denial, or any other unusual behavior.
Natalie had grown close with Pam, Erin’s other nanny, so one day Natalie questioned Pam about the relationship Erin had with her mother. The relationship suffered because Erin's mother was absent most of the time.
When Natalie approached me about this, I explained to her that Erin’s mom care more about herself and her drug addict boyfriend than her daughter. I knew my ex. She was a selfish woman who got pregnant to trap me for my money, and I knew she still dated that drug addict. That was why I had a court order against him. I wanted him nowhere near Erin.
Natalie remained in her room, and I gave her the time she requested. I worked from my home office and limited my business trips. I needed to be around for my daughter and Natalie. Guilt burdened my thoughts, and at night sleep eluded me. Three women needed me, and I failed them.
As soon as the doctor released Natalie from bed rest, she looked for apartments. I convinced her to let me buy her something since she was carrying my child. I assured her the condo would be in her name and I would never hold it over her head if she left me. There was one stipulation; our child would know its father. I expected to play a significant role in our child’s life. None of this was what I wanted, but I learned I can’t always have things my way and I can’t always control everything.
On the positive side of things, my relationship with Mrs. Ross had grown deeper. Since that day in the hospital when she spoke her true feelings for me, she’s acted more motherly towards me. I confided in her about my relationship with Natalie, and she gently advised me.
Unaware of anything being wrong, Erin thought Natalie slept in her own room because of doctor’s orders. Around the house, we acted normal. Natalie doesn’t allow me to touch her, not even kiss her but Erin hadn’t questioned us. I wanted Natalie more than ever. Since all of this happened, I’ve changed. I felt more present in my life, and I enjoyed the normalcy of everything around me. My need to express my love and affection for Natalie was stronger than ever, yet, I couldn’t. It was hands off.
She looked for apartments while I tried to convince her to stay. But she wouldn’t allow me to talk about it. Every time I attempted to she told me she’s not done processing what happened and the conversation will have to wait. We talked about other things. We talked about everything but our relationship.
Until one afternoon when something shifted.
“Noah! Are you home?” I heard the front door slam just as Natalie yelled out.
“In here, babe.” I still called her by the pet names I had for her and she hadn’t corrected me, yet.
Natalie came around the corner and took my breath away. She had a gray fitted dress that revealed a tiny baby bump. She stood profile in front of my desk and pushed her stomach out.
"Look Noah, a bump.” Natalie was a slender girl, so the slightest change in her belly was noticeable, but when I say the slightest change, that's all there was. Seeing the joy on her face, I knew a little white lie wouldn't hurt.
I came around and molded my hands to the tiny bump. “I see. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful!” I looked down at the baby bump then into her eyes.
Natalie did something she hadn’t done in two months; she initiated a kiss. “Let’s you and I go out for dinner, tonight… a date.”
“I would love to take you on a date. I’ll make the reservations.”
We sat at the bar while we waited for our table. Natalie looked beautiful. She wore a light peach flouncy sleeveless silk shirt with white slacks and white strappy high heels. Her toes matched the color of her blouse. Natalie's scent smelled like fresh air on a sunny beach day. Her golden honey strands twisted down her back and over her shoulders. She looked stunning! I couldn’t stop staring at her. It felt like the first time I saw her sleeping on the lounge chair by the pool.
I ordered Natalie mineral water with a lime and a Manhattan for myself.
“I’m starving. I hope the food is as good as the reviews say.” She said as she rubbed her belly.
I looked over to the hostess hoping she would move things along.
She approached us. “Mr. and Mrs. Westlake, your table is ready.”
I stood up and held out my hand for Natalie. “Come Mrs. Westlake. Let’s get food in you.” Natalie didn’t correct me and this time I glimpsed a smile on her face.
The table felt cozy covered in a white tablecloth with a short, squatty vase holding bright pink peonies in the center surrounded by tea light candles.
I stared across as Natalie perused the menu. Her eyes were aglow as she read through each meal. She couldn’t decide between a pasta dish and the chicken, so I ordered her both. “We’ll take the leftovers home for tomorrow.” I insisted when she fought me on it. “Trust me; it won’t go to waste. Someone will eat the leftovers.”
Our conversation lingered around Erin’s progression, how great Pam was with Erin, Erin’s incessant chatter about the new baby, and various projects I worked on in my companies. This kind of conversation was the only conversation Natalie would engage in with me, but all I wanted to talk about was us.
I wanted to discuss moving her into my room instead of her moving out. I missed the talks we had right before one of us fell asleep and our intimacy. I needed to hold her while she slept and I missed the warmth of her body and how when I lay naked with her with our bodies touching I felt comfort deep in my soul. I missed her playfulness and all the things she let me do to her when we were intimate. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms, take her home and show her all the dirty things I wanted to do to her and all the different ways I wanted to please her, but instead, like a broken record, the word time played in my head. I promised Natalie time, and time was what I gave her.
“Noah, are you okay?” Natalie asked between bites.
“Yes. Why do you ask?” I stopped staring at her and pushed the food around my plate.
“You’re looking at me funny.” She answered.
“How so?”
“I don’t know. You look deep in thought.”
“I was just thinking how beautiful you look.”
Natalie cried. I reached for her hands, but she reached for the napkin on her lap. She shooed me away, “Noah, don’t worry about me, it’s just my hormones.” With the napkin, she blotted the corners of her eyes.
“Baby, are you sure you’re okay? Should I take you home?”
“I’ll be okay. Let’s finish our meal. I’m enjoying myself.”
I threw my head back and laughed. “I’m glad to hear it because the tears threw me for a minute.”
“I’m sorry, Noah, I’m just a little weepy, but I’m happy to be here with you.”
I reached across the table, and Natalie slid her hand in mine. I held back from saying what I needed to say and only said, “Natalie, I love you.”
Natalie said nothing back at first. She smiled, slid her hand out of mine then picked up her fork. That’s when I became paranoid. I hadn’t expressed my love for her since the first night I brought her home from the hospital. Terrified it would push her away; I kept my feelings to myself. But in the past if I told Natalie I loved her, Natalie always said she loved me back. Even when my behavior was cruel and unforgivable, the words I love you came easily to her. Maybe that’s why she cried. She needed to tell me she no longer loved me. I felt sick, and I tried to continue eating, but I lost my appetite. I watched as Natalie ate. I looked for any sign from her that told me she was about to drop a bomb on me.
“Noah, I was thinking.”
“Yes.” I braced myself and waited for her to continue.
She pushed her pasta around her plate as she spoke. “I was thinking about our baby’s nursery.”
She made no eye contact with me, so I waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, I realized she waited on me to respond.
I placed my silverware down on either side of my plate. I took a sip of my Manhattan while I gathered my thoughts.
Why hadn’t I thought of that? She changed her mind, and the baby needs a nursery. This wasn’t an “it’s over” moment; this was a new starting line moment.
I gathered my enthusiasm and put on my best poker face then responded. “Yes, what about our baby’s nursery?” I kept my voice steady though I loved the way saying “our baby” sent a flush of warmth through my body.
She became shy as she continued to push her pasta around the dish still not making eye contact with me.
“I thought, maybe, this weekend we could move my things out of my bedroom. I can call a decorator to come in, so the room will be ready when the baby arrives.”
There it was, my glimmer of hope, but I dared not assume, so I continued to play along. “Okay.”
“Okay!” She sparked up. “I thought it would be nice for Erin and the baby to have adjoining rooms.”
“I’ll call my decorator.”
“If you don’t have the time, I’ll call her.” Natalie offered.
“I’ll give you his number if you’d rather call him.”
“Him?”
I pondered “him” for a moment. “Yes, him, but I say it loosely.”
“He’s gay?”
“I think so, definitely effeminate, if not gay and he wears heels and has long painted nails. He’s a nice guy, easy to work with, and talented. You’ll like him.” I took another sip of my drink. “Have him do the front room on the main floor, as well.”
“Oh, Noah!” Her expression animated.
“Yes, it’s time.” I knew the downstairs room bothered her every time she walked past it. If it weren't a ridiculous idea, I’d have a crew come in and remove that whole half of the house just to make Natalie feel better.
“Thank you, Noah!” She took a bite of her pasta.
Relieved by the long-awaited breakthrough in our relationship, my appetite returned. She still hadn’t suggested she’d sleep with me and I had other rooms she could move into but the fact it wasn’t an it’s over speech put me at ease.
There was a long silence while we continued to eat until Natalie broke the silence. “Noah, we’ll move my things into your room.”
Relief took over as the words I waited for washed over me. I sat back in my chair and exhaled. “Does this mean you are not moving out?”
“Yes.”
“And does this mean…” She didn’t let me finish my sentence.
“Yes.” Now take another sip of your cocktail. I’m hoping to get lucky tonight.”
The valet pulled up in my car, and Natalie stepped into the driver’s side. Her successful attempt to ply me with alcohol left her as the designated driver. I had every intention of making sweet love to Natalie all night long, but after three Manhattan’s I should not be behind the wheel of a car.
I sunk back into the soft leather seat and looked over at the woman I loved. Her tiny belly protruded just a little more after her meal. There were leftovers but not as much as I assumed there’d be. I couldn’t believe this was my life. I had my daughter back living with me one hundred percent of the time. The woman I loved carried our child and gave me a second chance.