Chapter Two
By five PM, I was itching to abandon the paperwork for a case I’d just completed.
I’d tried to call Jessica Casey earlier in the afternoon but got her voicemail and left a brief message.
Although I was unsure about her case, I was willing to look into it.
One or two accidents could be an anomaly but six were suspicious.
If nothing else, I could give her peace of mind.
When Solomon walked through the door and paused, clad in black jeans and a V-neck, black T-shirt that revealed pumped biceps, searching for me, one of them gave an audible gasp.
It was understandable. My husband was smokin’.
I waved, smiled, and he walked over.
“Am I late?” he asked.
“Early. We’re due in at…” I lifted my wrist to check my watch, anticipating we still had a few minutes to wait.
“Mr. and Mrs. Solomon,” called the receptionist. As we stood, she added, “You can go in. First door on the right.”
“Thanks,” I said as we moved past the pregnant ladies.
“Hi, there,” said Dr. Markham as we entered.
She stood to greet us, her tumble of brown curls falling forward around her shoulders.
We shook hands and she pushed her hair behind her ears, then smoothed her white coat as she sat.
“I won’t beat about the bush. We have your results back and I’m pleased to say everything looks fine. ”
“Then why aren’t we pregnant?” asked Solomon.
“How long has it been?” Dr. Markham asked as she glanced at her computer screen. She shook her head and smiled brightly. “We’re still under a year of trying. Not even close to a year, really. We consider that a normal time frame when trying to conceive.”
“I thought we’d get pregnant quickly,” I said. “It doesn’t seem like a difficult thing to do, and we’re doing plenty of it, but it’s not happening.”
“Like I said, we’re a way off that year mark, which is perfectly natural. Even then, I wouldn’t be worried. With the tests I ran as a precaution, I’m happy to suggest you carry on as usual.” She paused, then leaned in and added. “That means continue trying to get pregnant the regular way.”
“As opposed to…” Solomon began to ask.
Dr. Markham grinned. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve heard.
I’m satisfied you’re both doing what you’re supposed to be doing, that you don’t need a special talk with diagrams to aid your understanding, and there’s no impediment to either one of you to stop Mrs. Solomon from getting pregnant. ”
“So… we just…” Solomon glanced at me.
“Keep at it,” said Dr. Markham.
“And the tests?” I asked.
Dr. Markham laced her fingers together and rested her forearms on her desk as she leaned in, smiling.
“Everything is in working order with you both,” she said.
“Of course, there are more invasive tests but I don’t recommend them until significantly further down the line.
They really aren’t necessary at this stage.
I hope the news takes a weight off your mind.
Sometimes, stress doesn’t help when trying to get pregnant.
If you ask me what I recommend, apart from the obvious, it’s go and do something nice for yourselves.
Reduce stress. Go on dates, take a weekend away or a vacation.
Don’t worry about things that will naturally take their course. ”
“We can go on a date,” said Solomon, glancing at me.
“And we could take a few days off,” I added.
Dr. Markham’s smile broadened. “That’s what I like to hear. Can I help you with anything else?”
“No, thanks. I think we’re relieved to know everything is fine,” I said and Solomon nodded.
“I’ll make a note for the office to contact you in six months,” said Dr. Markham. “But if you’re successful before then, please do let me know. I love good news!”
We agreed we would and by the time we’d pushed through the revolving glass door onto the sidewalk, I felt lighter.
“I thought she’d say something catastrophic was wrong with me,” I said, relief bubbling through me.
Solomon slipped his hand over mine, his fingers warm and comforting. “Why would you think that?”
“Because my mom had five children easily. My sister had no trouble either but…”
“You’re thinking about Lily?”
“Yeah. She lost her first pregnancy, then she got Poppy. She got pregnant easily and then lost it just as easily.”
“You’re not Lily.”
“I know.”
“You’re not even biologically related.”
My jaw dropped. “How dare you!”
“Best friends and sisters-in-law still aren’t bio… oh, never mind. I know I’ll lose this argument even though I’m right.”
I chuckled, and continued, “Serena had no problem having Victoria.”
“She had to divorce her husband afterwards though.”
“True, but she aced pregnancy and she aced divorce. She’s such an overachiever. I’m the underachiever. It took me years to find a career and I’m not pregnant either.”
“Do you want to lord not divorcing me over her?”
“I would but she married Tony Delgado so she’d just laugh in my face. She’s acing that marriage.”
“Is he a better husband than me?” Solomon glanced at me, but I could tell from the sparkle in his eyes that he wasn’t asking seriously.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been married to him.
You can probably answer that better than I can.
He’s practically your work husband.” Solomon and Delgado had been best friends and colleagues, for years.
Solomon might be the boss at work, but on our own time, they were now brothers-in-law, thanks to my sister and me.
Mostly me. I set Delgado up with Serena.
Accidentally, but that was beside the point.
When I sent him to overhaul her home security, I didn’t expect her to marry him.
“In all the time I’ve known him, he’s never tried to be my husband,” said Solomon.
“That’s a relief. I was wondering if a skeleton were about to come out of the closet.”
“The way your mind works is a beautiful mystery.”
“I only heard you call me beautiful.” I beamed.
“You are, and just so we’re clear, I’m your life and work husband.”
“Want to go on a hot date right now?” I asked, wondering what two Solomons would be like. Exhausting probably, but I was not a quitter.
Solomon’s phone trilled and he reached for it.
“Hold that thought,” he said, sliding his fingers from mine to wrap his arm around me and pull me in.
While my face was smooshed against his chest, I listened in to his half of the call.
“Gotta go,” he said after disconnecting.
“Fletcher and Flaherty ran into a problem and I’m going to provide some muscle. ”
“Sounds dangerous.” Fletcher and Flaherty were a formidable force, and two of my favorite colleagues.
“No, it’s literal muscle. Their perp caught wind of the tail and has barricaded himself inside his ex’s place. We’re going to encourage him to leave.”
“How are you going to encourage him?”
“Best you don’t know,” said Solomon, kissing the top of my head. “Plan a date for tomorrow night and we’ll do whatever you want. How does that sound?”
“Partly emotional labor, and partly like you don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for.”
“Dinner, drinks, movies, moonlit stroll… Or we could go to a spa day at that hotel you like.”
“Last time we did that, a lady fainted in the hot tub from looking at your chest.”
“She got too hot.”
“You bet she did.”
“I hate to dump the planning on you but I have to go. I’m parked right here,” he added, pointing to the end of the block. “Are you parked nearby?”
“A block away. I’m good. You go!”
After Solomon drove away, I headed to my car. It would have been easy to go home, raid the fridge, and turn on the television, but since I still wasn’t pregnant, I figured it was best to enjoy my unencumbered post-work relaxation by dropping into Lily’s Bar.
Happy hour was in full swing by the time I arrived and Lily and Ruby were both busy serving at the bar. I hopped onto a bar stool, between a pair of laughing women on one side and a guy in a suit on the other. He looked up as I sat and smiled. “Hey, there,” he said.
“Hi.” I reached for the bar specials menu to peruse while I waited as Lily gave me a quick wave before returning to filling the extensive order a woman in a blue pantsuit was reeling off.
“What brings a beautiful lady like you out this evening?” he added, toying with his empty glass.
I preened and fixed him with my best smile. “I’m trying to get pregnant,” I said.
“Okay,” he said, sliding off his stool, his eyes wide. “Have a good night.” He disappeared into the crowd.
I snorted and returned my attention to the menu.
“What can I get you?” asked Ruby. Her dark hair was tied up in a ponytail with a big bow, and red lipstick gave her the perfect Cupid’s bow. As always, she wore a Lily’s Bar T-shirt. “Something to drink now you’ve finished snacking on that man’s ego?”
I pointed to the top item on the specials. “A passion-fruit daiquiri, please. With a cherry and one of those little paper umbrellas.”
“Are you celebrating something?”
“My ability to get rid of men PDQ.”
“Respect,” said Ruby, fist-bumping me before reaching for a large glass. She poured my drink, added a shiny red cherry, a blue umbrella, and a striped paper straw, and slid it across the bar to me.
“Cheers,” I said and took a welcome sip of the icy cocktail. “How’s your dating life? Met anyone nice here?”
Ruby shrugged. “Let’s see,” she said, counting on her fingers.
“I had two dates lined up for last week and both of them were no-shows. I was having what I thought was an innocuous conversation on a dating app and suddenly he unmatches me — right in the middle of a conversation! — then I start chatting to another guy and after asking what I thought of dogs, and I said I really wanted a poodle one day, he sent me a dick pic. Like, how do we go from poodles to that? The bar is in hell.”