Heartbeat (30 page)

“Around the same time, I think. I'm not sure of the exact date.”

“It might be nice if we could give Junior a name, other than Thompson,” her maiden name, and she was touched by the way he said it. He was offering to marry her, if only to legitimize the baby, and she leaned over and kissed him for what he had just said.

“Bill, you don't have to do that.”

“I know I don't. But I might want to by then. And so might you … if I play my cards right and get very lucky.” He winked, and she lay back and looked at the stars again. She wished she had all the answers. But he was willing to leave an open door for her, and she couldn't ask for more than that. In fact, it was much more than she had ever dared to hope for. She had envisioned herself alone and desperately lonely until the baby was born. It had never dawned on her that all of this would happen before she had the baby.

They left the lake the next day, and took their time driving down to L.A. They stopped in San Francisco again for one night, and then drove down Highway 5, and reached Los Angeles just in time for dinner. She made grilled cheese sandwiches at Bill's place while he got the boys ready for bed. And they ate dinner in their pajamas while Adrian told them silly stories about the newsroom, about the time a pig from a publicity stunt got loose and went berserk running all over the station, and the time there had been a food fight in the commissary that got so out of control, it took two weeks to scrape all the food off the ceiling. Adam particularly loved that story, and Bill grinned at her as she told it. They were all a little sorry to be home. And she particularly, as she had to go back to work the following morning. Bill was planning to take another two weeks off, so he could hang around with the boys, but she couldn't do that.

“Will we see you every day?” Tommy asked with worried eyes.

“I'll come by every night after work. I promise.” And then Adam. “Can we visit you at work?” “Sure, but it's not much fun.” And she was usually very busy, and Bill knew that. He suggested they go to Disneyland on the weekend and it gave Adrian something to look forward to as well. She was feeling depressed at not being with them every moment. She suddenly felt left out, and she was really sad when she helped put them to bed, and had finished reading them their favorite stories.

“I really hate to leave,” she said quietly to Bill, after they had cleaned up the kitchen. She still hadn't been to her own place, and her bags were still in his hallway.

“Then don't. You can sleep in our guest room.”

“The boys will think I'm a little strange. After all, I do have my own apartment to go to, and it's not exactly far away.”

“So what. Pretend you lost your keys.” He loved the idea, and so did she, and with a giggle, she agreed. And half an hour later, they were sitting on his couch, with her in her nightgown, and one of his bathrobes.

“This is fun,” she laughed, he had just made a huge bowl of popcorn. “It's kind of like being a kid again, and staying over at a friend's house.”

He smiled innocently at her. “They call it something else when you're as old as I am.” After all, he was almost forty.

“Do they?” She walked right into it. “What?”

“I think they call it marriage.” She fell silent then, and went on eating the popcorn, and when he came to sit down again, he smiled down at her. “It can be a happy thing, you know. Particularly between two people who know what they're doing, and happen to be very much in love. We might even qualify for both one day. We could even have a baby. Our own, I mean. Wouldn't that be something else?” He loved the idea of it suddenly, despite his many years of reservations. But he liked the idea of her baby, too, and he had been excited about it ever since he'd found out, and he kept telling her what she should be doing for the baby.

“What do you suppose the boys would say?”

“They'd be surprised certainly.” He grinned at her,and handed her a mouthful of popcorn. “Kids don't think about things like that. You could wait until you're seven months pregnant before you tell them, and you'd still surprise them. They would just assume you were fat, until you told them something different.”

“That's reasonable. That's what I thought, too …until I did the test.”

“Were you surprised?” He was curious about that.

“More or less. Maybe less rather than more. But at the time I told myself that I was shocked. But I think maybe I wasn't. I was just scared about Steven's reaction.”

“When did you tell him?”

“When he got back from a trip. And he wasn't exactly pleased.” Which was a major understatement.

She slept in his guest room that night, and in the morning the boys came in and pounced on her with delight. They were thrilled that she had stayed, instead of being shocked. And they wanted her to stay every night, but she said she had to get back to her own apartment. In fact, she had to go back that morning, to get dressed for work, and Adam and Tommy went with her. They were surprised to see that she had no furniture, and Tommy looked around with obvious disapproval.

“Why do you live like that?” he asked. “You don't even have a couch!” To him that was minimal, and Adam was upset for her. He thought that maybe she was too poor to buy one, and he thought that Bill should have at least given her one, but she was quick to reassure them.

“My husband took all that stuff when he left,” she explained.

“That was mean of him,” Tommy said, and she didn't disagree with him.

“Why didn't you buy more?” Adam inquired.

“I haven't gotten around to it. He didn't leave very long ago.”

“How long?” Tommy again.

“About two months …well, no …three, I guess.”

“You'd better get some stuff,” Thomas Thigpen advised her sternly.

“I'll do my best. Maybe before you come back again, I'll get this place looking decent.” She went upstairs to dress for the office then, and when she came back downstairs Adam whistled. She was wearing a simple black linen dress, but it was well cut, and it showed off her legs. They were about all she had left of her figure.

“You know, you ought to go on a diet,” Adam said. “My mom did. And she looks great. You could be really pretty if you lost some weight … I mean, you're pretty now …it's just that …you know, you'd just be better if you lost a little around the middle.” She started to laugh at what they'd said, but then pretended to take it very seriously, just as Bill came to get them.

“Well, we've solved all my problems,” she explained. “I need a couch, and I have to go on a diet.” She could hardly keep a straight face, and he looked at her two young friends with dismay.

“Did you say that to Adrian?” he asked Tommy.

“No,” she covered quickly for them, “we came to the conclusion together. And they happen to be right.” Naturally she didn't tell them that she had to put the apartment on the market in two months, and she was going to have a baby.

She left for work then, and the day seemed endless without them. She was thrilled to come home that night, but she slept in her own apartment, because she thought Bill needed time alone with them, but she spent as much time with them as she could. And they had a wonderful time in Disneyland, and their last day together came too soon. Bill took all of them to Spago again as a special treat, but it was a mournful dinner. Bill and Adrian were so sad to see them go, and the boys were heartbroken to be leaving them. Both boys cried when they went to bed that night. And Adrian went to the airport with Bill the next day so he wouldn't be quite as lonely. And after they were gone, she felt as though someone had died, and he looked it. Their little faces had looked so sad, they had waved till the last moment when they got on the plane. And they had promised to call the minute they got home, and often after that, and Tommy had whispered thanks to her again for saving him as he left her. They had both kissed her good-bye, and she had cried as much as they had.

“I've never gotten used to it,” Bill said as they walked back to the car. They had driven to the airport in his beloved woody. “It used to almost kill me when I said good-bye to them. And it still does.” And when they got in his car, he turned to her and put his arms around her for comfort. But there was nothing she could say to take the hurt away, nothing she could do that would bring them back before Thanksgiving. “That's why I never wanted kids again. I never wanted to lose them.” And yet … he was willing to share the baby with her …and give it back if she went back to Steven. Bill Thigpen was truly amazing.

T
HE SILENCE IN
B
ILL'S APARTMENT WAS DEAFENING
when they went back to it once the boys were gone. And Bill looked as though he'd lost his best friend, while Adrian tried desperately to distract him. She even volunteered to cook him dinner.

“Why don't you watch television, while I whip something up,” she suggested, and he stared mindlessly at the tube, thinking about the boys, while she clattered around his kitchen. He was listening to her with one ear, and then finally he realized that she was dropping everything. First she dropped the metal mixing bowls, then there was the clatter of pans, the slamming of cupboards, and he started to smile to himself. Adrian was extremely capable everywhere, except in the kitchen.

“Do you need a hand in there?” he inquired above the din, and her voice came back sounding a little distracted.

“No, I'm fine. Where do you keep the vanilla?”

“What are you making?”

“Lasagna,” she answered, dropping three more bowls and slamming the oven door again, and then he appeared, smiling broadly, in the kitchen doorway.

“I hate to tell you this, Adrian. But there's no vanilla in lasagna. Not in my recipe anyway. You must do something different.” He looked highly amused and she looked completely flustered. She had every bowl, every pot, every baking pan, and what looked like every frying pan sitting on the counter, but he refrained from making comment.

“Oh, shut up,” she said, glancing at the look on his face, and pushing the hair out of her eyes with her forearm. “I know there's no vanilla in lasagna. I'm making brownies. For dessert,” she explained. “And a Caesar salad.”

“It sounds lovely. Would you like a hand?”

“No, actually I'd like a cook.” She grinned sheepishly. “How about a sandwich?” He was laughing by then, and walked into the kitchen and put his arms around her. He had never been alone with her, not really, not since the boys had arrived and he told her he loved her. The boys had been with him for a month, and a lot had happened in the time they'd been there.

“Would you like to go out?” he asked, enjoying the smell of her shining dark hair as he held her. “We could go to Spago.” He was one of the few people who could get in almost anytime he wanted. He was one of Hollywood's elite, and most people would have killed to get into Spago. “Or I could cook for you. How about that?” He liked the idea of staying home with her, and he had been looking forward to a quiet evening. It was Saturday night, and all the restaurants in town would be too crowded.

“No,” she said stubbornly, looking at the mess she had made. “I said I was going to cook you dinner, and I'm going to.”

“How about if I help you? I'll be the souschef.”

“Okay.” She grinned mischievously at him. “Just tell me how you make lasagna.” He laughed openly at her then, and started putting things away. And together they made a salad, and he grilled some steaks, and they chatted as they worked, about the boys, and the show, and the new season. He was less affected by the seasons than the evening shows, because his show didn't go into summer reruns, and it was live all year round. But he had to make it lively, and jazz it up to keep it fresh, and he was currently working on developing new subplots, and they had spent a lot of time talking about it together. He liked her ideas and she had given him some notes she had made, and he was impressed with them. And they were discussing them again when they sat down to dinner.

“I agree with you, Adrian.” She had just made an interesting point. “But first we have to get Helen's baby born,” he explained, countering her viewpoint. “But after that, I kind of like the idea of a kidnap. The baby disappears … it turns out that it's someone who hates John, and it has nothing to do with her,
or
… “He squinted while he thought, penciling it all in his head, “Or …it's actually the baby's natural father who takes it …there's a tremendous chase across numerous states and through all kinds of problems …and when we find him, and the baby, of course, then we know the identity of the baby's father.” He looked pleased and she looked at him in fascination. She wondered how all these people constantly existed in his head, but she was just beginning to understand it.

“Who is the baby's father, by the way?”

“I haven't figured that out yet.”

Adrian laughed at his answer. “She's already pregnant and you don't know who the father is? That's awful!”

“What can I tell you? This is modern romance.”

“Extremely.”

“Actually, I like the direction you suggested yesterday, because if I make it someone plausible and nice, whom the audience likes, we could get a lot of mileage out of it.”