enough trouble dealing with his half of this situation. But he wasn’t the one who would be carrying a baby to full term, and while his life was about to change significantly, it wouldn’t change as profoundly as Charlie’s.
He tried to find something to say that would bridge the gap between them. But there were no words that could undo the child that was growing inside her, and there was no magic wand he could wave to change their relationship. It was what it was.
Imperfect. Inconvenient. Unconventional.
Beside him, Charlie yawned, one hand lifting to cover her mouth politely. “Sorry.”
He put the car in gear. “Let’s get you home.”
CHARLIE’S “EVENING SICKNESS,” as Rhys soon dubbed it, was not a one-off occurrence. As she entered her tenth week she became far too familiar with the queasy, uneasy feeling that gripped her like clockwork the moment the sun went down. It didn’t take her long to learn that from approximately 6:00 p.m. onward she was good for nothing but lying on the couch with one of her many baby books, nibbling on dry toast or a banana.
She told Rhys as much when she canceled their second get-to-know-you dinner and he insisted on swapping out for a lunch so she would have her evenings free to wallow in her misery—his words, not hers.
“That’s very generous of you,” she said.
“Thank you. I thought so, too.”
She didn’t need to see him to know he was smiling. She leaned back in her chair and put her feet up on the corner of her desk.
“I think a really generous person would volunteer to swallow several tablespoons of syrup of ipecac, to show his true solidarity,” she said.
“An interesting idea. Let me think about it for a few weeks and get back to you.”
“Some women believe the human race would have died out long ago if men had to have babies, you know,” she said. “What with all the varicose veins and morning sickness and episiotomies.”
“I would totally be up for it if it was possible. But, sadly, it isn’t.”
She liked the way his voice got a certain note in it when he was teasing her.
“You’d better hope they don’t make a huge leap in reproductive science in your lifetime,” she said.
“No kidding.”
She was still smiling when she ended the call a few minutes later, and the next day he made her smile some more when they met in Surry Hills to try the Mexican restaurant she’d read about. They discussed the biography of Steve Jobs she was reading over bowls of fresh guacamole and crispy corn chips, sharing a pitcher of fruity nonalcoholic punch. Conversation shifted to his family as they shared a platter of fajitas, with Rhys filling her in on the various romances and courtships that had led to his siblings’ marriages.
“I still think it’s weird that you’re the only one who isn’t married yet,” she said as she used the last of her tortilla to mop up her plate.
“Just as weird as you not being married.”
Her response was out of her mouth before she could think it through. “It’s not the same. Not by a long shot.”
“Why not?” His gaze was direct and questioning.
She shifted, regretting her unthinking words. “I’m really thirsty. Do you want some more punch?”
Rhys cocked his head. “Am I missing something here?”
“No.” He didn’t need her to point out how good looking he was and how average she was and how that affected their respective chances for attracting the opposite sex. The man had eyes in his head.
The topic changed and she heaved a silent sigh of relief and made a mental note never to discuss Rhys’s marital status again. It was none of her business, anyway.
Still, she found herself wondering about his love life as he settled the bill at the bar. Probably because the waitress was pouring on the smiles as she served him.
There was no way that a man like him didn’t have a woman in his life, even only on a casual basis. Every time they’d gone out together he turned female heads—yet he’d never mentioned another woman in her presence.
So what? He doesn’t have to offer his whole life up to you on a platter. And you don’t have to offer everything up to him, either.
Not that there was much to hold back. But the principle was sound.
The following week Rhys couldn’t make lunch, so he compensated by coming to her place on Friday night with a bunch of bananas and a DVD. She was more