Now he looked purposeful as he came up to them. “Mrs. Summers,” he said with a half smile.
“It’s Carrie, Everett. I don’t think you’ve met my husband, Brian.”
The two men shook hands. Afterward Everett shifted on his feet as if he were uncomfortable, but then he began, “I don’t want to hold you up. But Nancy told me you and your husband were thinking about adopting a child.”
Their intentions to adopt weren’t a secret, and Carrie had told Nancy about them a few weeks ago.
“We just finished with the final interview,” Brian said. In his voice, Carrie could tell there was curiosity as to why Everett Baker was interested in what they were doing.
With a quick look over his shoulder to the adoption agency offices where no one was visible, Everett continued. “I know how long the adoption process can take. When Nancy told me you were seriously interested, I thought I might help out. I have a friend who knows a lawyer and he can make private adoptions happen faster. If you’re interested in adopting out of the system, it would be something to think about.”
One look at Brian’s face and Carrie knew what he was thinking. Her husband was a by-the-book kind of guy and would have made a great police officer as he seemed to separate black from white easily, much more easily than she could.
Speaking for both of them, Brian handled the offer casually. “Carrie and I will think about it. This is an important step in our lives. Thank you for trying to help us.”
Although this discussion was serious, Carrie almost smiled. Brian was so good at handling delicate situations. He’d managed to give Everett Baker a don’t-callus, we’ll-call-you message without being rude.
“I know adoption is serious,” Everett agreed. “Babies are serious.” He looked troubled, and then the shadows passed from his eyes as he handed Carrie a business card. “You can reach me any time at that number.”
“Thank you.” Carrie tucked his card into her purse.
As soon as Everett walked away, Brian shook his head. “I don’t like the idea of going outside of a reputable adoption center.”
“I agree…for now. Let’s just see what happens in the next few months. If it goes a really long time and we haven’t heard anything or been chosen by a birth mother, maybe we’ll want to call Everett then.”
When Brian turned to face her, Carrie could see he’d already dismissed the encounter with Everett as well as the idea of a private adoption. “You asked me if I’ll be home for dinner. I won’t be. I have a meeting at the Hilton.” Apparently she couldn’t hide her disappointment because he went on, “I’ll try to be home before midnight.”
Carrie knew if Brian said he’d be home before midnight, he would be.
Her husband looked as if he wanted to say more, maybe do more. Public displays of affection had gone the way of holding hands and kissing in the car at stoplights. But as if he needed some type of contact between them as much as she did, he slid his forefinger along a wave of her auburn hair that had gotten caught under her coat. Gently he pulled it free and then stepped away.
“I’ll see you tonight.” His voice was low and husky, making her wonder if the pictures running through her head were running through his.
“Tonight,” she murmured.
A few moments later, Brian strode toward the parking garage, and she headed for the hospital. She loved reading stories to the children in pediatrics and today was her day to volunteer there. The time would pass quickly, and maybe at the end of the day she’d look at baby furniture before returning home to her big, beautiful empty house. Soon it wouldn’t be empty.
Soon, she and Brian would have the family they’d always wanted.
At eleven forty-five, Brian entered his kitchen after resetting the security system. Carrie was obsessive about it. If he slid into bed without waking her, he often heard her in the middle of the night going downstairs to check it. The few times he’d questioned her about it, she’d simply said she felt safer when she was sure it was on.
Striding down a hall, Brian bypassed the first floor spare bedroom and stopped in his den. After he set his briefcase on his desk, he hit a button on the computer, saw that he had no pressing e-mails, and headed for the second floor.
The house he’d bought after he and Carrie had married projected traditional charm. When he’d shown it to Carrie for the first time, she’d just kept saying, “It’s so big!”
It wasn’t that big. The two-story foyer opened into a dining room on the right and a living room on the left. A corridor to the left of the stairs led to his den and a guest bedroom. Pocket doors separated the living room from a great room, and beyond the great room’s French doors, outdoor floodlights beamed along a path leading to a gazebo-enclosed hot tub. He’d always envisioned three or four kids playing in the family room and in the yard. His gut still twisted when he thought about not being able to have kids of their own. Yet watching those babies in the nursery today…
He mounted the stairs, remembering the two-bed-room box house he’d grown up in. His father had lived there until he’d died two years ago, refusing to let Brian move him anywhere bigger. Carrie’s background had been even poorer than his own because her father had been disabled from a logging accident and her mother was unskilled. They’d been on and off welfare until Carrie had begun modeling. After Carrie’s mom had sent her daughter’s picture to a contest in a magazine, their lives had changed drastically.
The first night he’d met Carrie, he’d been bowled over by her—her beautiful long, wavy auburn hair and porcelain skin, her big brown eyes that seemed to see into his soul. She’d looked so sophisticated and been so poised and well-spoken that he’d never suspected her background had been similar to his.
Moonlight flowed through a skylight in the hall as Brian reached the top of the stairs. Their bedroom door was invitingly ajar and a dim light glowed within. When he stepped inside the master suite, his gaze didn’t sway toward the graceful columns that separated the sleeping area from a sitting room with its own fireplace. Rather it swerved unerringly toward the huge, king-sized bed. Although Carrie was five foot eight, with long graceful legs, she still seemed small and fragile in that bed.
Their triple dresser and the almost ceiling-high armoire were simply blurs as Brian quickly undressed and hung his suit in the closet. His wife was sound asleep. He could tell. When she curled on her side like that and tucked her hands under her cheek, she usually didn’t stir. Why should she? It was midnight.
He’d already been at the top of his game when he’d met her and had invested and saved more money than he could ever spend. His first successful land development deal had been followed by another and then another. He’d worked hard, used his intuition as well as his wit. He’d found, bought and sold land from Hawaii to Alaska to the coast of Maine. Although he’d always worked long hours, Carrie had understood the business he was in, knowing his pager could go off at any time or he could be bothered by an international conference call in the middle of the night. Still, during their courtship and the first year of their marriage, they’d had more time for each other. He’d taken her to Aruba and the Caymans. He’d introduced her to Tuscany vineyards and the moors of Cornwall. Sometimes trips were work-related, others they’d stayed in bed as much as they’d seen the sights. But then something had happened.
They couldn’t get pregnant.
Finally they’d both been tested and found Carrie’s tubes were blocked. Knowing how much he’d always wanted a real family, she’d been heartsick. The doctors had offered hope that had withered rather than materialized when the procedure to correct the problem wasn’t successful. Then the in vitro failed, too.
In the past few years, work had taken