Leigh Michaels - The Husband Project

She sank into a booth not far from the front door and asked the waitress for a glass of seltzer water with a slice of lemon. As Alison waited for the drink to arrive, she leaned her head against the tall back of the booth and closed her eyes, focusing her attention inward. Though the pain was a little worse than it had been before, it was following the same basic pattern—starting off like the worst stitch in her side she’d ever felt, and gradually diminishing as she sat still. This time it seemed to be concentrated on the left.

She was so intent on analyzing the discomfort that she didn’t see the waitress bring her drink, and she didn’t realize her partners had arrived till she heard Susannah’s voice coming toward the booth. “It’s perfectly awful, that’s what it is.... Are you taking a nap, Ali?”

Alison opened her eyes and sat up a bit too suddenly; the dim little bar , seemed to revolve for a moment, and Susannah’s face, full of concern, swam before her eyes. “I’m fine. What’s so awful, Sue?”

Susannah flung herself into the seat beside Alison. “The single most valuable piece of art the Dearborn Museum owns was vandalized this afternoon.”

“The Evans Jackson painting?” Alison was startled. “How could anybody vandalize it?”

Across the table, Kit choked and started to laugh. “You sound almost like me, Ali. I wanted to know how anyone could tell it had been damaged. It was nothing but smears of red paint on a white canvas in the first place, so—”

“That was not what Ali asked,” Susannah said firmly, and turned to Alison. “Somebody sneaked a can of spray paint into the museum and made a few additions.”

“Maybe it’ll actually increase the value,” Kit murmured.

“You have no appreciation of modern art.”

“Neither do you, so don’t be a hypocrite, Sue.”

Susannah looked stem for only a few more seconds before she burst into giggles. “That’s true. And actually, I have to admit—only to you guys, of course—that it did look better. At least there’s some variety now. However, when anything that’s insured for half a million gets damaged, it’s.... Why aren’t we in our usual spot, Ali?”

“Fresh air.” Alison waved a hand toward the propped-open door. “Fall’s coming fast, so we’d better enjoy this while we can.” That wasn’t bad for thinking quickly, she told herself. She wasn’t about to admit that ten minutes ago she hadn’t felt like walking another step.

“It is warm in here,” Kit agreed. “Though you look a bit pale, Ali. You didn’t walk all the way back from downtown, did you?”

Alison shrugged. “It’s rush hour. If I’d tried to get a cab I wouldn’t be here yet.”

Susannah slid to the far end of the bench seat, turning to stare at Alison with her eyes narrowed. “If it was the walk, she’d be flushed instead of pale, Kit.”

Kit’s eyebrows rose. “You’re right. Then—”

Susannah picked up the glass of wine the waitress had set before her. “And it’s not just today, either. Ali’s been pale for a couple of weeks. I’ve always thought she looks sort of like an old-fashioned china doll, all shiny black hair and porcelain complexion—but there are limits.”

“And one of my limits is when you talk about me as if I’m not here,” Alison reminded. “Anyway, I’m fine. I’m just a little tired from a long week.”

She didn’t think she’d been terribly convincing, for Kit’s eyebrows remained elevated and Susannah’s blue-green eyes watchful. But to her relief neither of them pushed the question.

Kit drew circles on the table with the base of her soft drink glass and said, “Sue and I have some great ideas for getting the singles club up and running, Ali.”

Alison sighed. “Look, guys. I’m sorry, but you know very well I’ve been no more than lukewarm on the idea of the singles club since Sue first came up with it.”

“You’re the one who suggested getting a restaurant to sponsor it,” Susannah pointed out. “And that’s the key to—”

“One suggestion hardly makes me a fan. And I can’t do a good job on a project I think is ludicrous.”

“Oh, really?” Kit murmured. “What kind of public relations person are you, anyway? We’re always doing something ludicrous. If you think I want to brag about creating a bunch of dancing ducks to promote the new water. park—”

“But you believe in the water park,” Alison reminded.

- “Doesn’t matter. Besides, you can’t expect either Susannah or me to do it You’re the only one of us who can, Ali.”

Alison sighed. “Because I’m the only one of us who’s still single.”

“Exactly.” Kit murmured.

“That is completely illogical, you know. It’s like saying I can’t make a good video welcoming newcomers to Chicago unless I’m a newcomer, and that’s just—” There was no warning this time, and the pain which racked her was by far the worst she’d ever experienced. Alison clutched at her abdomen. She’d have doubled up, but there wasn’t room in the narrow booth.

Susannah’s gaze met Kit’s. “An ambulance, do you think?”

“No!” Alison struggled to sit upright. Almost automatically she said, “It’ll pass.”

“Sure of that, are you?” Kit sounded skeptical.

“It always has before.”

“Oh, that’s reassuring! How long have you been feeling this way, Ali?”

“Weeks,” Susannah said darkly. “Remember, Kit? Clear back when you started having morning sickness, Alison was—”

If she hadn’t been feeling so wretched, Alison would have burst into laughter at the sudden suspicion in Susannah’s eyes. “I’m not pregnant,” she managed. “It’s just...cramps or something. A little worse than usual, but—”

“I’m relieved to hear it, Ali,” Kit said crisply. “Excuse me for missing the occasion, but just when did you get your medical degree?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “We’re going to check this out right now. If you’ll go get your car, Susannah...”

Susannah didn’t move. “Are you sure I shouldn’t call the paramedics?”

“I’m not sure of anything,” Kit said. “But we can’t ride with her in the ambulance, so we’ll need the car anyway.” She dug her cell phone from the depths of her handbag.

Susannah nodded and hurried toward the door.

“Oh, for heaven’s...” Another wave of pain swamped Alison’s voice.

Kit Hipped madly through her address book. “I knew I should have put this number on auto-dial.”

“I don’t want an ambulance, Kit.”

“I’m calling a friend.”

Alison, taken aback, could only stare at her. A friend?

“A friend who also happens to be my obstetrician.”

“I told you, I’m not—”

“—Pregnant, I know. Well, obviously there’s something wrong, and the way you’re clutching your tummy makes it a good bet that you’ll end up consulting somebody in that field. Besides, Logan’s the only doctor I can think of who’s likely to still be in his office after six on a Friday night...” She turned her attention to the telephone. “Hello, is Dr. Kavanaugh in? I see. Will you page him and ask him to call Kit Webster? It’s an emergency.”

- The worst of the wave had passed, and Alison could get her breath again. “I’m too busy for this. I’ve got a video to finish...” She was startled by the high, tight pitch of her voice and the panic which clutched her throat.

Kit put the phone down. “Exactly. And if you’d stop to think about it, Ali, you’d realize that I’m only doing this because I’m darned if I want to get stuck finishing your video.” The words were tart, but her smile was warm and reassuring.

Alison’s panic eased a little, but the lump in her throat suddenly felt as big as the Sears Tower. “Yeah, right,” she said. “Kitty, I don’t deserve you and Sue.”