Chapter 8
Taking the cup from him, she put it away and cradled his face between her palms. “But I was proven wrong," she whispered achingly. “You are super intelligent, what with those two degrees from Harvard, that you did nothing with for years–”She held fast when he tried to jerk his head away. “Beneath all of that spoiled, rich entitlement–”
“Oh please, you are making me blush with all the flowery compliments.”
She merely smiled. “You are romantic, loving and sensitive. A pain in the ass most of the time yes, but you are the man I love more than life itself. You make my heart beat faster; my body takes on a whole new dimension whenever I am with you.
As I was saying, we are blessed. We play together, laugh together, and we are happy.” Her expression wavered.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head.
“Baby?”
“It’s silly.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“Whenever people are this happy, when things are going your way, something is bound to go wrong.”
“You are waxing philosophical," he teased.
“Just–” She kissed him on the lips. “We are very happy, and this is a magical moment. We spent the holidays together, just us. Had sex, loads of it and we are going to have babies.”
He started in alarm when her eyes filled with tears and started to spillover. “Oh God! What is it? Are you feeling ill?”
“No. No.” She shook her head. “Hormones, raging hormones and they tend to take over. The awful side effect of being pregnant, just one of them, really. I am scared.
Oh God, Beau, I am scared that something bad is going to happen to upset this balance- this magical thing we have going on. The universe is going to turn against us and something–”The rest of her ramblings were curtailed by his lips.
The kiss was slow and erotic, filling her with life and love and something so potent she could hardly bear it. Her tears dried immediately, and warmth filled her to the core and threatened to brim over. It also made her completely forgetful of what she had been saying.
He filled her up totally. He was her man, her lover, her best friend and her husband.
Lifting his lips from hers, he stared at her with glowing emerald eyes that wandered over her face, taking in the sparkle of her dark brown eyes and lips swollen from his kisses.
“No matter what the universe as you put it throws at us, we will deal with it, because we are together," he invoked huskily.
“Promise me one thing.” Somehow, she had this impending doom inside her chest that she could not get rid of.
“Anything.”
“That no matter how hard this gets, we are going to stick together.” He stared at her with a frown, the flippant remark dying on his lips. “You are really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“I am.” She nodded. “I would like your promise.”
“I am here, no matter what. In sickness and in health–” he punctuated each word with butterfly kisses that started on her left cheek. “In good times…” Another kiss grazed the seams of her lips. “Bad, worse– impossible…”
His tongue caressed her full bottom lip. “Until death, which translates that you are stuck with me.” Tipping her chin up, he studied her exquisite face. “I am here, that’s something that has been decided for me since the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Beau," she whispered.
“I adore you," he whispered back before crushing her lips with his.
*****
But she could not sleep. Making sure her husband was, she settled in his arms and spent several hours in deep contemplation. They had made love again, before he declared that enough was enough.
“I don’t want to wear you out and I am still convinced that we did too much today. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to you.” So, he had made her some tea to quiet her slightly queasy stomach.
She was trying to tell herself that she was being silly. But the feeling persisted. She was pregnant with multiples. Three fetuses were growing inside her womb. She did the reading, extensively.
She was never going to carry all three to full-term. And as the pregnancy progressed, there would be bad moments. She had been reading about women who had gone through multiple births, and it was scaring her.
One woman, Linda from Long Island wrote that for the entire time when she was carrying her triplets, she could not leave the house.
“I was as sick as a dog. Everything upsets me at that time. I hated my husband, and was miserable the entire time. I could not eat for the first three months because everything tasted like crap.
I threw up constantly and had to be in and out of the hospital. My blood pressure was elevated. I got gestational diabetes, and my iron level was low. I am not saying this to scare anyone wanting to go the route of multiples.
I am just preparing you for the worst-case scenario. I almost lost all three babies twice and when I reached six months, I had to spend the rest of the time in the hospital. Ladies, it was a long and rocky road, and I would not do it again. I love my children, and they are a blessing, but the journey was arduous.”
Something was telling Georgie that her journey was going to be just as arduous and long. Turning her head slightly, she gazed at the handsome face of her husband. A lock of blonde hair had fallen over his forehead, giving him an appealingly boyish look.
His lashes were long, a slightly darker shade than his hair and she smiled at how embarrassed he would get when she mentioned how like a girl’s they were. His nose was straight, his lips sensuous. She felt her heart quicken as she continued to stare at him.
He was beautiful, a complete work of art and she loved him. Most people remembered him as shallow—a notorious flirt with not a care in the world, but she knew a different side. And she also knew why he portrayed that image before. He showed her a different side to the pretty rich boy. He had substance and his capacity to love was incredible.
She had no doubt that he loved her. He had shown her so many times and in so many ways. He was intelligent and articulate. He was also very competitive, they both were. Games of tennis and other sports took on a whole different aspect whenever they started playing.
He was her match in so many ways and she had been surprised to discover how much they had in common.
He loved to read and so did she. His tastes were eclectic, and he was more into history, of which he had an astounding knowledge of the different wars that had been fought, not only in America, but in Europe as well.
She loved him and was comfortable in his love for her. What she was afraid of was that his love would not be able to sustain and endure what is to come. Her fingers curled into the hairs on his chest and caused him to shift slightly. Holding her breath, she waited to see if he was going to wake up and when he relaxed, she breathed a sigh of relief.
He was also intuitive and sensitive to her moods and always knew when she was trying to cover up something. She would not want him to know that she was worrying about something she could not put her finger on.
*****
Her problems started right after the holidays, when her husband went back to work. Suddenly, she woke up that same morning, feeling as if her stomach was being turned inside out. He had kissed her goodbye and left her sleeping, with the promise that he would try and make it home early.
“We do have that wretched dinner party to attend, and I am certainly not looking forward to it," he complained.
The Lawsons were very prominent in society and were hosting this year’s medical convention which included dinner, and a fundraiser all rolled into one. This year’s theme was: “Fighting the good fight and winning the race against incurable illnesses.”
It was a worthy cause and as very important people in the pharmaceutical business, the Anderson’s were obligated to attend. It was a long and boring deal with long and tedious speeches, but it was an obligation that had to be met.
That meant, rousing herself and having Barry come over for a shampoo and deep conditioning.
Sliding out of bed, she went straight into the bathroom and stared at the pillow marks on her face.
Her hair was a mess, something she was going to have to hear from the finicky and ridiculously dressed stylist who usually spends ten minutes oohing and aahing about the state of her hair and the split ends he discovered. She was not looking forward to it.
Scrubbing her hands over her face, she decided to get it over and done with. He was typically in high demand, because of his expertise, but he had a fondness for her, which made it easier for her to get an appointment where others failed.
Taking a quick shower, she slipped into lounge pants and a black sweater before going downstairs to make a pot of tea. Mrs. Greene was still away for the next few days, which meant they had to fend for themselves.
A smile touched her lips as she went into the kitchen to see that the kettle was already filled with water and a pouch was placed inside a cup. It just left for her to turn the knob on the stove and wait for it to boil.
He thought of everything, she mused whimsically.
Placing a hand on her stomach, she rubbed absently as the queasiness persisted. It had woken her up earlier and it had gotten worse. A spot of tea would certainly do the trick, she decided.
And a slice of toast. Over the holidays, she had had no problem eating and her tummy had behaved surprisingly well.
Pouring the water over the pouch, she added honey and waited for her toast to be done before taking it with her into the solarium where the sun was already bathing the plants with light.
Sitting on a comfortable velvet sofa facing the east side of the property, she sipped her tea and watched the snow which had formed ice overnight, dripping off the palm and oak trees. Everything looked so still and beautiful. Nature in all its glory, she thought whimsically.
She never thought she would be comfortable, just staying at home without worrying about a career. She had fought so hard to be noticed and to get her online account up and running, that it shocked everyone when she announced that she was giving it up.
Her fans – my God! It had taken her a while for her to accept that she had become a celebrity who had fans. They had protested and demanded that she change her mind. But she was adamant. She was a wife, and her goal was to be a mother as well. She was not going to shortchange her husband and eventually her children.
She had proven to herself and to everyone else that she could make it, now it was time for the next chapter of her life.
She had taken the last sip of tea and finished the toast, when she realized that her stomach was still not settled. Deciding that a second cup would come in handy, she rose and headed for the kitchen.
*****
“Honey, are you sure you are, okay?” Barry clucked his tongue solicitously as he twirled his curling iron. “I have been here in your beautifully appointed house for half an hour, and this is the third time you have been to the powder room. What’s going on?”
“Holiday leftovers," she told him lightly, settling back down so he could finish curling her hair. “Too much rich food and cake. Lots of cake.”
He laughed in delight, momentarily distracted. They were in the solarium where he had arrived armed with all the tools of his trade and had started berating her for not taking care of her skin and hair.
“Not that your skin is anything except flawless and that’s fortunate for you. Are you even using the cream I recommended?”
She could hardly tell him that since becoming pregnant, the scent of it was upsetting her stomach. “Of course.”
Now he was regaling her with stories about his other clients. Barry was flamboyant and unapologetically gay and proud of it, but he was also the worst gossip in the world and could never keep a secret. Beau disliked him intensely, not because of his sexual preference of course, but because of his inability to refrain from talking about his clients.
“I have friends who are gay, Justin Moncrieffe is one of them, but they have a lot more class. That hairdresser of yours is too much.”
So, to keep the peace, Georgie always scheduled her appointments whenever Beau was out of the house. And there was no way she could let Barry know she was pregnant, let alone carrying triplets. It would be buzzing around town by the end of the day.
If she had known she would be feeling this sick today, she would have canceled the appointment and done her hair herself. She had done that before. But now it was too late and she was praying that he would finish up and leave before she had to go to the bathroom again.
She ate toast and some soup before he came, but her stomach was not settling.
“Darling, did you hear?”
“Hear what?” She forced herself to appear interested in his tale and wished he would hurry up and go. But Barry was always a perfectionist and would not be satisfied until he had achieved a work or art as he tends to call his creations.
“Linda Crandall is going through a very bad break up.” He practically licked his lips at the news. “Apparently, that husband of hers was caught with his pants down.” He twirled his curler expertly and stepped back to view his work.
“Beautiful. Anyway, it appears that he has been diddling his stepdaughter. Can you believe it? But that happens when you marry a man who is half your age.”
“Are you almost finished?” She was going to be sick again and was so tired, she felt as if she was falling asleep.
“What’s the rush, darling?” he chided. “I am almost finished with your beautiful hair, but you need a facial.”
“No," she eased her tone when he stepped back in surprise. “I have an appointment in town in a few minutes. I will take care of my face when I am getting ready.”
He looked like he was about to disagree when she rushed on. “The last time you were here, you left tons of products for me to use. I promise you won’t be disgraced.”
His smile flashed brilliantly. “Of course, not darling. Like I mentioned before, you have one of the most beautiful skins I have ever had the privilege of attending to. Just let me spray this in your hair to keep the curls. Ah, there you go. Wonderful!” Capping the bottle shut, he slid it along with the other things he used and zipped his bag.
“I am including a very generous tip along with my usual amount," she told him, barely looking in the mirror in front of her. “I called you on such short notice.”
“I would expect nothing less. But I have to admit that you are one of my faves, so whenever you call, I come running. Now I must be on my way. That dreadful Anabel is demanding my presence, and you know how she hates to wait. That diva is such a royal bitch, I don’t know how I put up with her.”
“It must be for the money," she said with a straight face as she saw him out the front door.
His laughter tinkled out. “You are such a bitch. Well bye, darling, and keep a net on that hair until you are ready to leave.”
“Of course. Thanks Barry.”
She had barely secured the door, before she had to rush into the powder room.
*****
He eyed her critically as she stepped into the ivory gown she had chosen to wear. “Are you up to going?”
“Why do you ask?” Turning her back, she silently asked him to do up the three pearl buttons. He did not need to know that for most of the morning and afternoon, she had been sick to her stomach.
Almost everything she ate had come right back up. After Barry had left, she had retched inside the bowl and sat there on the floor, feeling so miserable and weak, it had been a chore for her to stumble to her feet.
The chicken noodle soup had soothed her somewhat and enabled her to climb into the bed. She had slept for three hours, waking up just in time to take a shower and get rid of the telltale signs of her being ill.
“You look a little peaked.” He turned her around to face him, a slight frown marring his brow. “When I called you this afternoon, it took a while for you to answer.”
“That’s because I was napping.” She touched his face lightly. “That’s what pregnant women do; you know. What do you think? The pearl or the emeralds?”
He was still not convinced that she was okay. “We don’t have to go.”
“Why Beau Colin Anderson, is there some reason why you are reluctant to show your face at this particular function? We already know several of your exes with be there and that does not bother me anymore. Not as much as it did before.”
“I am being serious Georgie.” He was not smiling. Was it his imagination or did she seem frail? “Were you nauseous today? Did you throw up?”
She knows she promised that she would not hide anything more from him, but she knew her husband and if she told him about her difficulties today, he was going to overreact. “I did and I am fine now," she assured him lightly.
“I made some soup, drank enough tea to sink a ship and ate crackers. I even managed to consume a garden salad just before you came. I also ate some watermelon and some grapes.”
His hand tilted her chin to study her face. Her makeup was flawless, and he didn’t have to know that she had to avail herself of the products Barry had sold her some time ago.
Nor the fact that she had used a heavy hand when applying her makeup. Her skin tone did not require any enhancement at all, but after the day she had, it had been necessary. “You are wearing foundation; you hardly ever do.”
Her husband never misses a thing, she thought wryly.
“I had sleep lines after the nap.” Tugging her chin away, she went over to her vanity.
“Pearls or emeralds?”
“Diamond and pearls," he said promptly. “Your hair looks nice. Pity I am going to have to undo all that effort when we come home.”
“I paid good money for Barry to achieve these curls.”
His mouth tightened at the mention of the man’s name.
“No doubt, he was regaling you with the latest gossip in society.” He was slipping the diamond cufflinks though the sleeves of his immaculately cut dark blue jacket.
“Linda Crandall’s husband is having an affair with her daughter.” She grinned at the look of distaste on his handsome face.
“That goddamned fairy.”
“Darling–”
“He makes me sick the way he feeds off people’s misery.” Taking a deep breath, he dispelled it in a puff of air and came behind her to secure the clasp of her necklace. “I hate gossiping. I dislike the fact that we belong to a society whose main pastime is delving into other people’s private lives and loving it when they find dirt.”
Turning to face him, she pressed her hands over the lapels of his jacket. “That sets you apart from the rest of them. Thank God.”