Chapter Twelve

After dinner that evening they sat on the porch and watched as the sun sank behind the hills. The night was quiet and still. Lights shone through the trees from other cottages. Replete and content, Audra watched as the sky darkened and the first stars appeared.

Mitch rose and walked to the edge of the porch. “I feel I ought to be doing something.”

“You are, you’re resting. Sit down and relax.”

“Easy for you to say. You did a lot today with that walk, you’re probably tired.”

“Not especially—I’m just comfy. You worked so you should be tired, too. Sit down. It’ll be full dark soon. We can already see some of the stars.”

He glanced up briefly, then turned around. “We could go for a walk.”

“We could sit here, quietly, and talk,” she countered swiftly. “Honestly, it’s no wonder you were exhausted when you crashed, you don’t cut yourself any slack. There is nothing pressing to be done, nowhere you have to be, so try to sit and do nothing.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and walked over, dropping down into the chair.

Audra would like to run her fingers through his hair and mess it up some more.

“What do you want to talk about? Why is it women always want to talk?” he grumbled.

“Why is it men don’t?”

“It’s a waste of time.”

“How so?”

She tried to see him in the growing darkness, but he was merely a silhouette.

“They always want to talk about feelings. A person feels as he feels, talking about it doesn’t change anything.”

“Sometimes it can explain things, open the door for communications.”

He rose again and walked to the stairs turning to look at her.

“I feel frustrated, angry I crashed, annoyed as can be that my brother, my doctor, my secretary and everyone else who knows me seems to think I need rest. Outraged you didn’t tell me about the baby as soon as you found out. And resentful that you left and that I still don’t understand what makes you tick. So does that foster communications?” he asked sardonically, glaring at her.

“You can’t let your job alone, it’s as if you are obsessed with it. You’ve made it plain you resent being forced to take time off. What would foster the beginnings of communications would be for you to tell me why you can’t let go and relax. Why can’t you put work aside for three short weeks, recharge and be even more enthusiastic about it when you go back?” Audra returned.

“We had this discussion on the dock the other night. I’ve agreed to do vacationy things with you. And we need to discuss us. I want to know your plans for my baby once it’s born.”

“One afternoon walk does not a vacation make,” she said, ignoring the last part.

“I feel fine. I’m rested.”

“Except for dizzy spells and times when your arm aches.”

“How did you know my arm aches?”

“I have eyes, counselor. I’ve seen you cradle it from time to time. And I know broken bones can ache when healing. Rest would help.”

“We’re back to that.”

“Nope. I’m going to bed. If we’re getting up early, I want to get a good night’s sleep. Or as much as I can with babykins.”

“The baby keeps you awake?”

Audra hesitated, then spoke slowly. “Sometimes he or she becomes very active at night, waking me up and then it’s a challenge to get back to sleep.”

He leaned against the railing and looked at her in the dim light spilling out from the front window focusing that attention right where she’d once wanted it.

“What exactly are you going to do when the baby arrives?”

“That’s one of the things I’m trying to decide on this vacation,” Audra said slowly. “I want the best for our baby.”

“As do I. Did I figure into your plans at all?”

“Do you want to?”

“You have to ask? Audra, I missed a parent growing up. I don’t plan to let any child of mine feel that loss. Yes, I want to be a part of this baby’s life.”

“How much? I won’t have my child make plans only to be let down and disappointed when things don’t turn out right. You’re welcome to come over as often as you like, but we’ll only expect you when we see you.”

He frowned. “I wouldn’t let the child down.”

“How do I know that? You let me down.”

The charged silence stretched on forever.

“I didn’t mean to,” he said softly.

“And you probably wouldn’t mean to disappoint the baby by making plans and then breaking them when work took precedence. But it would happen. And children grow too fast to let that happen. I want our child to have only happy memories of growing up.”

He was becoming angry again. Was that how she saw the future, him constantly disappointing his son or daughter?

“Give me some credit, Audra, I wouldn’t do that.”

Her silence let him know she didn’t believe it.

“A visit each week wouldn’t be enough. I want to see the baby grow, be a part of teaching him or her about life,” he said slowly, realizing it was exactly the way he felt.

He’d had a part in creating this child, he wanted a strong role in helping it grow to adulthood.

“So what are you suggesting, joint custody? Would you be there enough for that?”

“There are other ways.”

“Like getting back together?”

He stared at her, wondering if that was what he wanted. He hadn’t been the one to walk out. Not technically, though he gave nodding acknowledgment to her statement he’d left mentally before she left physically.

Could he change? Could he cut back on work and still stay on the fast track?

Audra hesitated near the door and gazed out over the dark expanse in front of her.

“Never mind, Mitch. I really have it all planned out. My boss has agreed to what I think is a perfect situation. I can work several hours a day and then spend the rest of the time with my baby. There is on-site child care, so I know he or she will get good care while I am working. You and I will work out visitation.” She opened the screen. “We can talk about it further another time. Good night.”

He was alone on the porch. For a few seconds he could hear her on the stairs, then—nothing. Just the soft wind in the tops of the trees, and the silence of the mountains.

She’d mentioned getting back together. Was it even an option?

Early the next morning, Mitch knocked on Audra’s bedroom door. He waited a minute then knocked again, louder.

“What? Who is it?”

Her sleepy tone flooded him with memories. She took a little while to become awake. They had joked about her not being a morning person. Yet many mornings, he’d awakened to find her watching him. For a moment he was tempted to throw open the door and wake her properly with a kiss. His hand paused over the knob. Did she still wear sheer nighties, or had that only been for him? He knew her hair would be tousled initially, but it was cut so it fell into its short layers with little effort. He ached to see her when she first awoke.

She’d be warm and desirable.

Pushing away the disturbing thoughts, he focused on why he was at the door, dropping his hand to his side.

“Audra, are we on for the fishing expedition?”

“Oh, sure. What time is it?”

“A bit after five. It’ll be dawn soon. We want to be on the lake by then.”

“I’ll be ready in ten minutes.”

He could hear activity and slowly, reluctantly, turned from the door. He was dressed and ready to go. He could help her. Pick out something for her to wear, watch her dress.

Her door opened and Audra almost ran into him.

“Oh. Good morning. I’ll just be a sec.”

Bundled in her arms were her clothes. She hurried down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Mitch watched her, bemused to discover she slept in a long gown of some soft material that seemed to follow the curves of her body. He took a breath, shocked to discover just seeing her vanish down the hallway had him desiring her. He wanted to forget the fishing trip, take her to bed and make love with his wife all day long.

Frowning, he went downstairs to the kitchen and tried to occupy himself by making coffee. Before long the fragrant aroma filled the air. Taking time to find the herbal tea she drank, he prepared her a cup.

“Ah, a man after my own heart,” Audra said as she entered and made a beeline to the mug he held out. “I know I said I wanted to go fishing, but think I need a bit more time to psych myself up for this early rising. I am on vacation.”

He leaned against the counter and watched her bustle around. She sipped the hot beverage and gave a blissful smile. Quickly she prepared bagels and cream cheese and handed him one.

“This will hold us. Will we be out long enough to need a lunch?” she asked, taking another sip of tea.

“No, we’ll come back by then. Ready?”

Mitch felt irritated with the feelings he was experiencing. It seemed right to share chores in the kitchen. They worked well together—he wanted to share more than chores. He wanted to be back in Audra’s life.

“I’m ready,” she said as she swallowed another bite of bagel. “I can take this with me and finish by the time we reach the boat.”

The morning was cool, the sun just rising above the hills to the east. The sky was already changing color. The air was hushed as they took the pine needle strewn path to the lake. None of their neighbors seemed awake.

Mitch carried the fishing gear while Audra finished eating her bagel.

There were two boats moored at the dock. Mitch chose one and dropped down into it, steadying himself as it rocked a bit. He placed the fishing poles to the side and reached up to help Audra in.

He reached for her waist, encountering the swell of baby. She laughed and the sound warmed him. He liked her laughter. Something else he’d missed over the past months.

“I feel like a sausage,” she said as she rested her hands on his shoulders and lightly stepped down into the boat. It rocked wildly and he held her tightly.

“Whoa, don’t capsize us.”

“I wouldn’t dare. That water is freezing.”

Sitting gingerly on one of the bench seats, she looked up brightly. “This is a great idea.”

Mitch stepped to the stern and checked the small trolling motor. Seeing the gas tank was full, he pulled the cord and it started immediately. The soft hum of the motor sounded loud in the early-morning stillness.

“We’re going to wake everyone up,” Audra said, turning to watch him cast off and guide the little boat away from the dock.

“It’s not that noisy. None of the boats on the lake woke you on other mornings, did they?”

She looked around. There were at least a half-dozen boats scattered around the glassy surface. She had heard none of them.

By the time they stopped, and Mitch cut the motor to allow them to drift slowly, the sun had risen. Some of the chill abated and he settled back.

“I’ve never been fishing before, so you have to show me what to do,” Audra said, shifting, rocking the boat. “Oops. How do we move around?”

“We don’t. Hand me that blue box, it has the flies. I’ll get you going.”

A few minutes later both had lines in the water—on opposite sides of the boat. Audra looked relaxed, blissfully gazing over the water, anticipation evident.

Mitch was amused. Obviously she expected to land a fish instantly. As the minutes ticked by, he watched her. Her anticipation waned as frustration mounted.

She glanced at him, frowned.

“What’s funny?”

“Nothing.”

Narrowing her eyes, she glared at him. “You’re definitely amused.”

He nodded.

“Why?”

“You look as if you expect the fish to just jump in the boat. Fishing is a slow, longtime process. Relaxing, remember?”

“I don’t feel relaxed. I’m afraid the boat’s going to tip over if I don’t keep a constant balance. Or I’ll drop the pole or the fish will yank it out of my hand. And one thing I don’t think we took into consideration was the frequency with which pregnant women need a rest room.”

His lips twitched. So much for a relaxing morning on the lake.

“Should I head for home now?”

She shook her head, now glaring at the fishing pole and the line. “No, I’m good for a while yet. But I thought we’d have a fish by now. I thought we could have a fish fry today like the Carmichaels did. Return their hospitality so to speak.”

“Relax. Given enough time, we’ll probably catch as many as Mr. Carmichael did.”

“Oh great, the workaholic himself is telling me to relax?”

Mitch laughed aloud at her disgruntled tone. When she looked at him, her eyes sparkled and she grinned. Suddenly he no longer felt like laughing. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her again. Feel that warm weight of her body, the new shapes and contours he was growing to know. Wanted to taste her mouth, breathe in her special scent. Wanted that feeling of connection he felt when they embraced.

Frowning at his thoughts, he turned away just as he felt a tug on his line. Setting the hook, he let the fish play a bit before reeling him in.

Audra was so excited he was afraid she would capsize them. “Sit still,” he said, pulling a bit more on the rod, swiftly turning the reel.

“But you have a fish! Get it! I want to see.”

“Pay attention to your pole. You could get one soon and lose the rod if you aren’t paying attention,” Mitch warned.

Just then she gave a yelp. “I have a fish. I have a fish!” She almost bounced on the seat.

The boat rocked again and he just knew he was going to end up in the water—cast not withstanding.

His fish came out of the water, gleaming in the sun. He swung it into the boat.

“Eech, don’t let it touch me,” Audra screamed, moving as far from the floundering fish as she could. Her own pole was forgotten momentarily as she stared at Mitch’s fish. She moved her feet to the other side of the bench and looked around. “What are you going to put it in? You can’t just leave it at the bottom of the boat!”

“We have a creel, that’s the big brown wicker container in the bow. Hand it back.”

Gingerly she reached for it and tossed it to him.

“How’s your fish?” he asked as he deftly unhooked his catch and dropped it into the creel.

“Oh, I don’t know!”

Audra turned back to her rod and began to reel it in. In only a moment she had a fish dangling from the end, swinging back and forth.

“Bring it into the boat,” Mitch said, almost laughing at the perplexed look on her face. Fishing with Audra was nothing like fishing with Thomas had been.

She turned and the fish almost whacked him in the face. He ducked, then reached up and nabbed the dangling creature. In only a second, he had it free and in the creel.

“I need to go back,” Audra said, placing her rod in the boat and turning to face the bow.

“Tired of fishing already?”

She shook her head. “But I think I need to do my fishing from the dock. I need to go back, Mitch and right now.”

Mitch took them back and had barely nudged the dock before Audra leaped up and hopped onto the wooden pier.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” she said and almost ran up the path. He sat in the boat, watching her.

Now what? Was that the end of their fishing expedition? He looked at his watch—it was still early. Looking over the lake, he noticed more boats.

Suddenly he realized he wanted to go back out. Wanted to laze away the morning bobbing on the water, listening to Audra talk, watching her fish.

Teresa would be arriving at work soon, but for once the urgent need to check in was missing.

Audra was right, the legal system of Boston would not come to a halt because he wasn’t there. He’d check in later, maybe when Audra napped. She’d never know.

Not that it mattered if she knew or not. Yet somehow he didn’t want to disappoint her.

He watched the path. How long would she be?