Judy Christenberry - When The Lights Went Out...

Then he was listening to a dial tone. He slammed down the receiver. What now? What was he going to do? Should he ask Maggie to—no, he didn’t want to explain this problem to her. Maggie was his incredibly efficient assistant who was as strict with him as she was with herself. He couldn’t see himself confessing to Maggie that he’d been careless with his sperm!

Okay, so he’d have to handle this himself. He’d—he’d look at the women among his employees and find out who was pregnant.

And ask them who the father was?

He couldn’t ask a question like that. No, he had to have a reason.

After a knock on his door, Maggie entered. “Are you going to lunch?”

“Yes, uh, yes, but I—” Suddenly inspiration struck. “I have a question for you. Do we have any women employees who are pregnant?”

She stared at him, then nodded and said, “Yes.”

“I see. Do—do we offer any benefits to them?”

She blinked, her cheeks turning pink.

“We offer medical benefits.”

“Ah. I was wondering if we should do more. Like—like create an on-site child-care center? I was reading an article about the benefits to a company that meets its employees’ needs.

“Really?”

“Yes. So—so tomorrow, I’m going to do some questioning of our pregnant employees. I’ll need a list of them.”

“Very well.”

“You can get me a list?” he asked, always amazed at Maggie’s efficiency.

“I’ll do my best.”

She laid some papers on his desk and turned to leave.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he’d find out who was having his baby.

Sharon Davies approached the bank of elevators, pretending her life was perfectly sane, calm, happy.

She had a good job with Kane Haley, Inc., a growing accounting firm in Chicago. She loved her work, she had a great family, the sun was shining…and this morning she’d taken a home pregnancy test.

The elevator door opened, and she didn’t move. Someone pushed her from behind. “Come on, lady, I got deliveries to make.”

“Sorry,” she muttered and stepped to one side. “Go ahead. I’ll take the next one.”

The messenger, along with several other people, entered the elevator. Then he looked at Sharon. “Come on, there’s room.”

“No! No, I—I can’t.” She took another step back.

He stared at her as if she were crazy. Maybe she was. Not many sane people could claim to have gotten pregnant in an elevator. That elevator.

The door closed and Sharon stared at her image in the mirrored doors. She didn’t look like a loose woman. She was wearing a conservative gray sheer wool suit, a plum silk blouse with all but the top button closed. Her skirt was slim but of moderate length. Her shoes were low heels. She wasn’t trying to catch a man’s eye.

She hadn’t been trying two months ago either. But she’d been late to work after a terrible morning when everything that could go wrong had. She hated elevators, but she certainly hadn’t been tempted to use the stairs to walk up sixteen floors. She enjoyed exercise, but she wasn’t crazy.

Another elevator opened. Drawing a deep breath, she entered it, crossing her arms over her chest so no one would notice her hands shaking. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Jack’s face filled her head, only today it didn’t have a calming affect.

Her eyes filled with unshed tears. They popped open and she blinked several times to dry them. She wasn’t going to cry.

The door slid open on the top floor, her floor, and she quickly stepped out. Pasting a smile on her lips, she greeted fellow workers as she hurried to her desk. She felt—safer behind her desk. It wasn’t as if anyone could see that she was pregnant…yet. The first thing she had to do, however, was make a doctor’s appointment.

She was the only member of their department at work, so she grabbed the phone and dialed her doctor’s office. A couple of minutes later, she hung up the phone. Tomorrow morning at nine. At least that little errand was taken care of.

She stepped to her boss’s office. Andrew Huffman was the closest thing to a father-figure she’d had since her own father had walked out on her mother, leaving his five children. Sharon was the oldest.

The struggle that ensued, still ongoing, had reminded her every day that men—at least some men—couldn’t be trusted. Now, with her mother’s hard work and her own contributions, starting when she’d gotten a part-time job at fourteen, all her siblings were getting a college education.

When she’d started at Kane Haley Inc., fresh out of high school at eighteen, she’d come to Andrew Huffman’s department. He’d encouraged her to learn and grow, using the company training as well as her night classes, to take on more and more responsibility.

She’d completed her degree this August and Andy had been as excited as her. Now, she rapped on his door, knowing he’d be at his desk. He was nearing retirement age and worked from a wheelchair, but he had the energy of men half his age.

“Come in.”

“Andy? I have a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow morning, so I won’t be in until ten or ten-thirty. Is that okay?”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

“Yes. Just something I need to take care of.” She certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone about it until she had her pregnancy confirmed by a doctor. She wasn’t sure if the home tests were really reliable. Or maybe she was just hoping.

“Okay. I may have some good news for you next week. Your very own project,” he exclaimed with a boyish grin.

She tried to look excited. “Really? Any details?”

“Can’t tell you yet. But keep up the good work.”

She retreated to her desk. She and Andy had talked about her heading up her first project. Without her degree, he couldn’t let her take that responsibility, but he’d promised she’d get the chance now.

Yesterday, she would’ve been thrilled.

Now she wasn’t sure she could handle it.

The temptation to call Jen was hard to resist. One of her friends, Jennifer Martin, was the Health Benefits Manager. It was Jen who had inspired her to buy a home pregnancy kit. When Sharon had complained over lunch about fatigue and occasional nausea, Jen had commented that it sounded like pregnancy to her.

Sharon had laughed, along with Jen, because Jen would know. She’d discovered her own pregnancy a month after her fiancé had died in a car wreck.

Jen didn’t know she was the inspiration, because she didn’t know about the elevator incident. No one did except her and Jack.

If only she knew who Jack was.

“Yes, the test was correct, Miss Davies. You are approximately eight weeks pregnant. Your baby is developing nicely. I foresee no difficulties. I’ll write you a prescription for prenatal vitamins and set you up for an examination schedule of every six weeks until you’re six months pregnant. It will be every two weeks then, until we’re down to the last month. I might change to every week then.”

The older woman in the white coat beamed at her as she made notes on the new chart. “Now, who shall I list as the father?”

Sharon stared at her. She’d been coming to Dr. Norman since she’d started working at Kane Haley, Inc., eight years ago. The doctor was on their company plan and was in the same building, convenient.

“Uh, I’m not listing a father’s name,” she said calmly, folding her hands in her lap.

“You don’t know who the father is?” Dr. Norman asked sharply.

“I know who he is, but I don’t want his name on the records. It’s my baby and I’ll provide for it.”

“Ah, a married man,” the doctor muttered, her lips flattening out as she pressed them tightly together.