“So, can you help me?”
“Can I? Yes. Should I? I have no idea.”
“Why?”
He blinked at her as if she’d missed something incredibly obvious. “Because I— You and I— Because we—”
She grinned. It had always been fun to make Mitch sputter. She’d found that out in sixth grade and had used the knowledge to torment him on a regular basis.
“What are you smiling about?”
“It’s good to see you, Maitland.”
His shoulders relaxed visibly. “It’s good to see you, too. I think.”
“Hey, you remember the time capsule?”
His brows furrowed for a moment, and then it came to him; she could see it in his face. “God, I haven’t thought of that in years.”
“I found it.”
“No.”
She nodded. “Right where we left it.”
“What’s in it?”
“I don’t know. I figured we’d better open it together.”
He leaned back in his chair. “I’ll be damned. We buried that…when?”
“Nineteen seventy-seven. September. Right before school started.”
“Right.” He nodded. “We’d read that book.”
“Yeah.”
For several minutes, he didn’t speak. He’d locked his gaze on a stack of folders on his desk, but she didn’t think he was really seeing them. Instead, he was looking at the past, just as she had the moment her shovel had hit the tin lunch box buried under the juniper bushes at the Kendricks’ house.
She wondered how long it would take for it to become the Taylor house. Certainly all the people she’d grown up with wouldn’t be able to call it that. But her daughter’s friends… Or her son’s. She wasn’t picky.
Mitch caught her eye as he leaned forward again. “What does your mother have to say about this, uh, plan?”
“I guess you haven’t heard. My mother died eight months ago.”
Again, she’d managed to shock him. “What? I would have heard.”
Darcy shook her head. “She was in a nursing home in New York. She’d been sick for a long time.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
“So it’s just you, now, huh?”
Darcy nodded. It was just her now, but not for long. Not if she could help it. Not if Mitch would cooperate. He looked as if he wanted to ask her something. Something awkward, if the doodles on his desk blotter were any indication. “Go on,” she said.
“Pardon?”
“Go on and ask me whatever it is. It’s all right.”
He grinned his acknowledgment at being caught. “I was just wondering…. Is there a donor?”
“No. There isn’t.”
“What about that veterinarian?”
“You knew about that?”
He nodded, somewhat guiltily. “It was kind of hard to miss.”
“Swell. I just love having my personal tragedies broadcast on national news. But no. We’re not together anymore. We got divorced almost two years ago.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s much better this way.”
“What— Never mind.”
“What happened is that he was more interested in using my connections to make himself a movie star than he was in being my husband.”
“Ouch.”
“Damn straight, ouch. But one good thing came out of it. This decision.”
Mitch nodded. “I understand. But I’m still not sure I’m the guy to help you.”
“Why not? And don’t stutter around it. Just say what you’re thinking.”
“Same old Taylor.”
“Same old Maitland.”
His expression turned serious. “Darcy, this isn’t going to be easy. There’s only a twenty-five-percent chance that it’s going to work. Even if we do everything right.”
“I understand.”
“No, I’m not sure you do. We’ll be a team, you and I. I’ll have to know very personal things. Like when you’re ovulating. And I’ll be the one examining you.”
She bit her lip to hide her smile. “You’re embarrassed.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m thinking about you.”
“No, you’re not. I can read you like a book. You’re thinking how weird it’s going to be if I’m your patient.”
“Aren’t you?”
She nodded. “Sure. It’s going to be weird, but only for a little while. Then you’ll get involved in the work, and I’ll be just another patient.”
“You’ll never be just another patient.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“I’m not so sure about that, either.”
“Come on, Maitland. This is the scariest thing I’ve ever done. I’m leaving everything I know behind me and starting a completely new life. It would mean a lot to me to have a friend there to help. I’ll go to a stranger if you want me to, but I’ve thought long and hard about this. I trust you more than I’ve ever trusted another human being. Despite…” She didn’t want to go there. Not now. “We have a lot of history together. We’re the brain patrol, remember? Who else is going to care more?”
He stared at her for a long while, his face expressionless. All she could do was wait, prepared for either answer. If it was yes, she’d have some work ahead of her. Not with the baby, but with Mitch. They’d need to talk about what had happened all those years ago. Clear the air. If he said no, then she’d leave him be. She’d find a good doctor and go on with her life. She’d still have Beth’s friendship to bolster her. And perhaps, in time, she and Mitch would be able to talk. She sure didn’t want to open that time capsule by herself.
“Can you give me some time?” he asked finally. “There’s a lot to consider.”
“Sure. Of course. Take all the time you need. As long as it’s in the next few days.”
“Gee, how generous.”
“Not to get too personal or anything, but remember that ovulation we talked about?”
He held up his hand to stop her. “I get it.”
“Good. Oh, and Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
“Can you keep this under your hat? I don’t want the press getting wind of any of this.”
“You know I’d never say a word.”
She nodded. “Yes, I do know that.” She stood, took a step toward the door, then turned to him. “I was wondering if you had time to give me a little tour of the place before I go?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I’ve got a patient waiting. But maybe tomorrow….”
“No, it’s okay. Really.”
“Hold