Chapter 7

It didn't happen that night. Of course there was no way to know that immediately, so we just carried on as if we were doing it to have fun.

Around a month and a half later, I arrived with more paperwork to review. Actually, it wasn't paperwork. Everything was electronic with appropriate security and encryption. What do you call it? "digiwork?" Not really the point, I guess.

When she opened the door, Karen looked different. She was relaxed, but then she was always relaxed with me. She seemed very happy, but then she always did in our personal moments.

I could tell. I broke into a big smile and she knew.

A man who focuses on his woman's pleasure usually reaps big rewards. I could certainly score points by doing the accepted thing here - waiting for her to tell me.

But she already knew that I knew. If I said it, that would show how well I had learned my lessons about reading people. What better compliment could I give her?

All right, the truth is that we had been one upping each other with our insights and I didn't want to give up the opportunity.

"When did you find out?"

"This morning."

"Home test?"

"A couple days ago."

"That's fantastic." I moved forward to take her in my arms.

"You bastard. You just couldn't resist, could you?" She said it with a smile.

"No, I couldn't. And I hope to be not resisting for a very long time."

"You're happy, aren't you?"

"That's rhetorical, isn't it?"

She leaned back, looked at my face and nodded.

"You're happy."

It's hard to keep happy off your face. I realized that because of the number of times I heard, "Randy, you look so happy. What's going on?" over the next few months.

I worked up a standard answer. "Life is good. Business is good. I'm healthy. What's not to be happy about?"

And, for the most part, it was true. Being happy also made me realize I had not been entirely happy; I had been portraying it. My performance was so convincing, it convinced me.

I knew I had been happy except for the black cloud following me around. I just had not recognized the enormity of its dimensions.

I spent time with Karen when I could. It was quality time; it wasn't rushed; it wasn't furtive. We talked. We laughed. And we created orgasms, just in case the baby needed them to grow, or perhaps because it was a lot of fun. I'm a little hazy on what we were thinking at the time.

I also spent an appropriate amount of time with my family. The thing I hadn't figured on when I was planning all this was that I didn't get any time to myself. I'm sure it added to my level of stress.

Karen's place was roomy enough for the two of us and a baby, perhaps two. We didn't have the pressure of finding and purchasing a place to live during the time I spent with her.

And we agreed completely on accommodating my decorating needs as well as hers: she had carte blanche. I didn't care if she chose to accent the décor with suits of armor or paintings of those poker-playing dogs.