The House on Olive Street by Robyn Carr Page B

with Beth. She did everything around the house except bill paying; Jack’s “chores” would consist of upkeep on his Mercedes sports car, boat, lake lot, investments, et cetera.
    “Maybe I could go to the lake with you?” she suggested.
    “Naw. I’m just going to change the oil on the boat motor, maybe cut down the shrubbery on the lot, stuff like that. This is really good, babe. You sure are good at screwing up a chicken.”
    “I wouldn’t mind going with you even if you’re justdoing that stuff. Jack, I’ve been so lonesome lately. Since Gabby died.”
    “Who? Oh, you mean that woman you knew?” He shoveled in another mouthful.
    Beth had become a master at overlooking all the little painful things Jack did or said, but on this subject it was hard. Could he really not remember who Gabby was? Or how important she’d been to Beth? “Gabby was a very, very close friend of mine. I loved her very much.”
    “Oh-ho, careful, babe. You’re starting to sound a little, you know, lezzie….” He laughed at himself. Beth was insulted. Hurt. And it caused her to be a bit reckless.
    “You know, I’ve been thinking. I’m ready to have a baby.” His fork stopped moving but he didn’t look up. Beth forged ahead bravely. “I’ve decided it doesn’t really matter much that you’re not ready. What difference does it make? I’m alone here all the time anyway. I can’t even go to the lake with you. All I want is to be a little less alone. I want to have a baby.”
    “We’ve been over this,” he said. The humor and playfulness was gone from his voice.
    “You knew when we got married that someday I’d want a baby. You said we’d talk about it later and we’ve been putting it off for seven years. I’m thirty-two. I’m an aunt more times than I can count. I’m—”
    “Not now, Beth. I’m tired.”
    “I’ve always gone along with what you want so we can have all this time to ourselves, but there’s no we. No our. It’s you going places, having fun, having friends, and I don’t do anything but stay home and write. I’m almost a total recluse. Gabby was one of my only friends. And she’s dead. Can’t you even imagine how I might be feeling?”
    “Look,” he said, putting down his fork, picking up hisdrink. “I’m sorry about your friend, but it doesn’t mean it’s time to have a baby. That won’t help you get over it any faster. And I’m not ready.” He drained his drink.
    “You’ll never be ready,” she said while he was drinking. “You can’t control everything, you know.”
    He lowered the glass to the table with threatening slowness. When Beth looked into his angry eyes she jumped, but she kept telling herself not to back down this time. She was going to get what she wanted for once. It was her money, after all, that paid for most of his expensive toys. And trips. And hobbies. And probably friends.
    “Just what do you mean by that?” he asked.
    “I could stop using birth control and you’d never know the difference,” she told him. “I’m getting a little tired of working all the time, never having any family life, never having any fun, never having any… I could have a baby and he’d be here six months before you even noticed!”
    Jack pushed himself away from the table. “Didn’t I tell you I was tired? Didn’t I tell you I hardly had the energy to eat a meal? But you have to yammer at me about this now?”
    Seeing such anger in his eyes caused her own to well up with tears. It was hard to stop and start things with Jack, especially when she never knew what to expect from him. She’d been planning this discussion for days, precisely because he was due home at four and should be rested. He’d been flying a San Francisco-New York-London pattern with a long layover in New York before the last day of flying. That should help him unscrew his body clock and get on U.S. time again. Then, after a five-hour flight in the midday from the East Coast, he should be able to sit down