Chapter 4

Rachel rode as Noah drove toward his condominium. He parked in a covered stall and they walked across the driveway to his unit. He unlocked the door and escorted her inside.

"This is very nice, Noah," she said. "It's so light and airy. I like the skylight over the stairs."

"There are two bedrooms upstairs and they both have skylights. I use one as a home office. Let's see that CD."

She retrieved it from duffel she carried. He switched on a Denon amplifier and pressed a button to open the tray of his CD player.

"There," he said and led Rachel to his sofa. "The sweet spot is right here." He handed her a remote. "You can adjust the volume here."

"This is amazing, Noah -- it really does sound like we're in a concert hall."

"And it feels like it, too. You listen while I take my shower."

He headed up the stairs. Noah shaved, showered and dressed in shorts, polo and a pair of Docksiders. As he descended his stairs he saw Rachel, standing behind his sofa and testing different listening locations. He regarded the backs of her legs and her shoulders.

Noah approached her from behind. He slipped his arms around her ribcage and kissed the base of her neck.

"You startled me!" she exclaimed and then giggled as he nuzzled her neck. "I like that..."

He ran his hands along her abdomen. "How's he doing this morning?"

Rachel grasped his wrists and lifted his hands from her. She spun around and looked him in the eye. "Please don't touch my belly like that."

"But Rachel -- I'm falling in love him, too."

Her lip quivered. "Don't say that!" She removed her glasses and wiped tears from her cheeks. "How can you say that? He's not yours!"

"He's half you, Rachel -- and that makes him special enough."

She buried her face in her hands and wailed. "Oh, God!" Noah put his arms around her. "Don't touch me!"

"Rachel," he said calmly, "we're in this together." He opened his arms to her and she relented, falling against him and sobbing on his shoulder. Noah held her tightly and stroked her back.

She calmed and looked him in his eyes, hers red from weeping. "I'm so sorry, Noah. That wasn't rational."

"It was emotion," he replied. "Pure emotion. I'm sorry I unleashed it."

She sniffled. "I have reconciled to carrying him and giving birth. I haven't reconciled myself to what happens after. I can't see myself as a mother. I'm deliberately trying not to bond with him."

"Have you felt him move yet?"

She shook her head. "No. Not undeniably, at least. I feel something sometimes but it might just be gas gurgling in my intestine or a muscle twitching. I started reading books on pregnancy. It's a bit early yet to feel him move."

"There's something primal about mothers bonding with their babies," he remarked. "It's built into the primitive part of our brains. It's essential for the species to survive. If it's any help, Rachel -- I think you'd make a good mom."

Her lip trembled. "That both helps and hurts, Noah. I know you're trying to be supportive and I appreciate it. I appreciate your sincerity. You are a good man, and good men are hard to find. You said you didn't want to influence my decision on the abortion. Please don't try to influence my decision about keeping him. Promise?"

"I promise."

"I've decided to defer that decision 'til later. When I'm ready for your opinion, I'll ask for it."

"Understood."

She composed herself and slipped on her glasses and adjusted them. "There," she said. "Well -- now that my spasm is over, let's go stock your freezer."

"Maybe you'd like to stop somewhere for lunch."

Rachel smiled. "You're reading my mind."

Noah steered a shopping cart toward the frozen foods section. He began filling it with various frozen entrees. Rachel stared at him. "THIS is how you eat?"

"I'm a miserable cook," he replied. "The last time I tried boiling water I burned it. I simply put one of these in the oven ... and I'm likely to burn it, too."

"That is pathetic," she said.

"I suppose you cook a nutritious meal from scratch every night?"

"Well ... no ... but I don't resort to those. Let's make something for dinner. What would be good on a Saturday evening?" Her eyes widened. "Burgers. Do you have a grill?"

"I have an old hibachi."

"That'll do." She took over steering the cart and headed for the meat department.

"Yes, mam," the counter man said.

"A pound of ground Angus," she replied. Then, she headed toward the produce. "We need some sort of a vegetable," she said.

"Does ketchup count?" She pulled back one corner of her mouth. "Just kidding. How about sweet corn -- on the cob?"

"Perfect." She picked a half-dozen ears. "What do you like on your burger?"

"Cheese ... onion -- a slab about three-eighths of an inch thick ... sliced tomato."

"Cheese in the dairy ... and we need rolls. Do you have charcoal?"

"We'd better get some."

"How about salt? Pepper? Garlic powder?"

"We'd better get those, too."

Noah stood with Rachel in the checkout line. He touched the back of her hand and they locked fingers. "It's a good thing I had lunch before coming here," she said. "Otherwise I would've gone wild."

"You looked pretty wild as it was. You looked like a woman on a mission."

The patron ahead of them departed and Noah began unloading the cart onto the belt. A woman straddling the territory between middle and old age was running the register. She regarded Rachel. "When's it due?" she asked.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "December."

The cashier addressed Noah. "It's a risky question to ask and with some women you don't know if it's a baby or a spare tire. She's so svelte otherwise, I was ninety-nine percent positive. Congratulations, you two. You look like a lovely couple."

"Thanks," Noah said as he scanned his Visa to complete the transaction.

He placed bags into the cart and wheeled it out of the store and to the parking lot. "I HATE it when strangers congratulate me," Rachel said.

"Get used to it. Would you rather be fat or pregnant?"

"They way I'm eating I'll end up both."

Noah stepped into his unit's tiny back yard and dumped charcoal into his hibachi. He doused it with starter fluid and touched a match to it.

"That'll take a while to get going," he remarked as he stepped back into his condominium. He stripped off his shirt. "I'm sweating ... It gets hot in the back this time of day. I'd like to have a picnic table with an umbrella but there's no place to put one. I'll take the corn outside and husk it -- that's a messy job."

He returned with the peeled ears. "Put them in the pot," she said pointing to a Dutch oven filled with water at a rolling boil. "You have a nice kitchen. It's too bad you don't use it."

"The oven gets plenty of use." Noah watched her form the ground meat into balls and flatten them with a spatula. "Did you put something in the burgers?"

"A touch of salt and some garlic powder -- to give them some depth."

"I think the grill is ready. Do you trust me to cook them?"

"With some supervision, perhaps."

Noah brought the finished burgers inside. He picked up his polo and wiped his face and neck with it. "It is hot out there," he said. "I'm glad the A/C is working. I'll run upstairs and put on a clean shirt."

Rachel split rolls and assembled the finished product. "Don't on my account," she said. "You have a nice physique, Noah. I don't mind looking at it."

They sat across from each other at his kitchen table. "This is the best burger I've had in years," he said.

"The corn's good, too."

"Do you need something to drink? I was going to get a beer. I have some Sharp's."

"That would be good," she said.

Noah set a glass before her and another at his place. "It was a busy day," he remarked.

"Yes. I enjoyed myself. I enjoy myself when I'm with you. It doesn't seem to matter what we're doing."

"Don't you think that's a sign, Rachel?"

"You keep asking me that."

"I'm falling in love with you."

"You keep telling me that," she replied.

"Don't you think that ... maybe ... just maybe ... the feelings might be ... just a little bit ... mutual?"

"I have feelings for you, Noah."

"But, not love?"

"I'm not ready to admit it. I thought I was in love last time. I was swept off my feet in love." Her lip trembled.

Noah held up his hands. "I'm backing off, Rachel. I'm backing off..."

"I'm sorry -- I'm really fucked up in my head." She reached across the table and took his hand. "You are sweet and attentive and interesting ... and quite good-looking. I feel the love you have for me. A woman would be nuts not to reciprocate. But, some times I feel crazy insane."

He stroked her hand. "I understand."

Noah stood by his shelf of CDs, looking through them He felt Rachel's hand on his bare back. "You collect CDs like I collect books," she remarked.

"Not quite -- but I do have a lot. Some I've listened to only once."

"The used bookstore where I shop also sells used CDs. Maybe we could go over there sometime."

"Maybe, sometime." He opened a case and took out a disc. "If you enjoyed that Pro Musica disc, maybe you'd like this." He placed it in his player's tray and pressed the start button.

He led her to his sofa, sat and coaxed her onto his lap. With his finger he caressed her cheek and traced her lips. They kissed and kissed again, their tongues probing each other's mouths. Noah smoothed his hand along her leg, caressing her knee and her thigh.

Rachel placed her hand on Noah's shoulder and caressed his arm. She ran her fingers through the patch of hair in the center of his chest and smoothed her palm along his breast. Then she rested her face on his shoulder and kissed his skin.

He gazed into her eyes and caressed her shoulder and arm. Watching for a signal to stop, he traced the scoop neck of her tank. Then, he traced from the shoulder strap, down and along the outline of her left breast.

Noah could feel her breath on his face, but he saw nothing he regarded as a red light. With the back of his index finger he caressed the underside of her breast, then on the return stroke he smoothed his finger across its center.